The guitar

Joy Ryan, President/CEO

Joley wants to die. Every day she wakes up wanting to die and goes to bed wanting to die. She has taken pills, run out into traffic, swallowed pieces of glass and metal, and banged her head until it was bruised.

She is 14.

Her past is so heavy, it weighs down her ability to look forward. She hasn’t been able to imagine a life she actually wants to be in. She fantasizes about “Colorado,” but can’t describe what she would like to find there.

As I write this, I wonder two things: First, how does anyone, much less a child, endure all she has gone through? Second, will you, as the reader, even believe her story? I start to wonder if I should leave things out so it is not so difficult to tell.

That wouldn’t be fair to Joley.

Joley’s parents have never been together in her lifetime. Both of them are alcoholics. Mom was a methamphetamine addict but has settled on alcohol as her drug of choice. Joley has been in and out of her mother’s home, father’s home, relatives’ homes, and foster care. She was sexually abused multiple times by an adult male relative. She has witnessed horrific domestic violence where she thought her mother was going to be killed. Joley was beaten by her father. Her stepfather never hurt her, targeting her mother instead. She rarely attended school, and when she did, she was way behind and tormented by bullies. At one point, she was in a home with her five younger siblings. She was their primary caregiver who took care of them, fed them, washed them, comforted them. In addition to her desire to die by suicide, Joley has flashbacks, nightmares, emotional numbness, hypervigilance, and an unrelenting sense of danger. She never feels safe. She becomes violent easily.

I would, too.

When I saw an email from Spiritual Life Coordinator Deaconess Kelly Bristow to Joley’s treatment team, I was concerned it was another incident of aggression. The whole team has been working so very hard to help Joley learn she is safe at the Ranch. She is in therapy, receives medical care, does wellness activities… but 14 years of trauma do not disappear in a month or two.

This email was about a guitar. In addition to all her spiritual life duties—running groups, attending treatment team meetings, providing music for chapel, praying with the children—Deaconess Kelly also teaches music lessons. She had asked Joley if she would like to learn to play guitar. Joley, surprising even herself, I think, said “Yes.”

From Deaconess Kelly’s email, “Joley was approved to have a guitar in the cottage. The black guitar and red music folder will be stored in the staff office. She is allowed to play it in the common area with staff supervision. Joley has been enjoying our weekly lessons and has already shown improvement in the last two weeks with it! Thank you for your assistance in helping to provide this normalcy activity and positive pastime for Joley!”

I am not suggesting that guitar lessons heal a lifetime of trauma. I am suggesting that the amazing folks I work with keep on and on and on to find any opening that will allow a small bit of hope to seep into a child who has had none.

If, for Joley, it starts with guitar lessons, I’m all in.

Please keep the children and staff of Dakota Boys and Girls Ranch in your prayers.