SNWJ: The Beautiful Mess Series, The Mario Jumper

The Super Mario Jumper

John Paul Derryberry

The Beautiful Mess Series: Not everyone beats cancer but we rightfully celebrate the fact that everyone fights the diagnosis. Not everyone wins their battle with mental health, but we only praise the people who overcome.  

Remember we are using the pronoun “They” in these blog in an effort to shield revealing details about the people I’m writing about.

The Introduction blog http://jpderryberry.com/blog/mess

The Mario Jumper

They would wail about how unfair life was when asked to hit the pause button on the video game. A barrage of cuss words always flew around the living space and often times the staff would play rock-paper-scissors to figure out who had to get them off the game. Not our most professional moment, but three days in a row of being called every name in the book lowers professionalism. Plus, we were new, and there wasn't a handbook about how to help someone overcome significant abuse issues. 

When they were prompted to get off the game, the kid would growl at us first, next bargain, and when that failed, launch a  full-on assault. Arms went flying, kicks came out of nowhere, and teeth munched. They struggled with the transition to the real world. It was understandable. Their real world sucked with a capital S and elongated -ed. Abandoned by actual parents, tossed aside by a bunch of foster families and, having been subjected to many programs, they had lost faith in humans. Depression and anxiety were tough to manage in the real world, but within the rules of video games, solace was blissful. 

In that world, there were no crazy twists, no rule breaking and, if you didn't like the game, start over. They longed for that in the real world. And, since they couldn't find it there, they retreated to a place of comfort, a place that could not hurt them. The reason why we tussled with them was that, when they were off the video games, they were funny, engaging, and not afraid to be entirely themselves. In a room full of people trying to be anything but themselves, they were refreshing. 

They loved doing the trash but only if granted permission to complete the chore exactly at bedtime. They liked to steal the extra five minutes and brag about staying up late. We loved issuing this request because it led to the best moment at the end of the day. As we gathered the trash bags and walked them back and forth to the dumpster, the youth would run and ask us to watch them. They would jump up in the air, mimicking the pose and sound of Mario jumping in the Super Mario video game.  They would ask us to copy them and we would do it wrong purposely, just so they would show us again. They would laugh and smile the entire time and we would laugh and smile. 

Years later, after they left our program, we would tell the new staff about old clients. The Mario Jump would always come up. We would end up mimicking their every moment. We would laugh and smile as we talked about about taking out the trash and how, when we were done, they would run through the unit, and complete two Mario jumps on the way to bed. It became a tradition in our program. When taking out the trash, everyone learned the Mario Jump. The initial Mario Jumper was one of the first clients to leave the program after I started working there. Years after they went, we were still Mario Jumping and using it as a tool to teach staff that every kid has a behavior that will tug at your heartstrings. We used it to explain to subsequent kids about learning to be yourself. 

Looking back, I understand the pull of entering a world that has concrete rules that cannot be broken. Life can be confusing because what should be hard, sealed rules, such as your parents staying in your life, are often ignored. Yet, when Mario Jumper successfully transitioned from the video game world to the real world, they created a tradition, a tradition out of their messy life that informed the lives of staff and other kids' struggle. Be yourself, always. Such a simple life lesson we hear all the time, yet one so many are afraid to live. Take out the trash and Mario jump. I promise you will smile and think of my jumper every time. It somehow makes life more full, which always makes it feel more beautiful.