Empathy For Our Young People
Empathy, for me, starts with remembering that their struggles are real.
(Psalm 27:7–14)
As a 24‑year veteran teacher with experience at all grade levels in a variety of different schools, I’ve taken a final position, and I am closing out my career in a small rural public school. This is my second year at this school, and it has been one of the most challenging yet rewarding places I’ve ever taught. It has opened my eyes in ways I didn’t expect. I can honestly say the kids I work with now face more hardships than any group I’ve ever taught. Some of them carry more on their shoulders at 12 or 13 than many adults do.
And the thing is — they don’t complain. They don’t ask for special treatment. Most of the time, they just try to get through the day the best they can. It’s not always pretty or pleasant. But if you pay attention, you can see the weight they’re carrying. You can see it in their eyes, or in the way they look at you like they’re trying to figure out if you’re safe.
I have students who sleep through class because home is too chaotic, and they don’t get any sleep there. I have students who act out and won’t let me get to know them because their wall is so thick, and they trust no one. I have students raising siblings and having to be the parent in the home. If I didn't know their stories, I wouldn't understand their behaviors.
And on top of all that, today’s young people don’t always look like we expect. They have piercings, colored hair, clothes we don’t understand, and slang that makes us feel old. But none of that tells the real story of who they are. We didn’t look like our parents either, and we pushed boundaries in our own ways. These kids are trying to figure out who they are in a world that feels loud, fast, and confusing. They don’t need us judging the outside. They need us to remember what it felt like to be young and unsure.
When I read Psalm 27, especially the part where the writer is basically saying, “Lord, I need You. Please don’t turn away from me,” I think of kids like that. Kids who are trying to be strong, trying to be brave, trying to hold it together when life keeps throwing things at them. David sounds desperate for God to hear him — and I believe many of our young people feel that same desperation, even if they don’t have the words for it.
A lot of our youth today feel alone, even when they’re surrounded by people. They’re dealing with anxiety, family struggles, financial stress, and the pressure to grow up faster than they should. And sometimes, the adults around them forget how heavy that is. These youth are growing up in a technology era that most of us cannot understand. As an adult, the social media world is more than I want to deal with. It causes me anxiety. What must our young people be feeling?
Empathy, for me, starts with remembering that their struggles are real — even if they don’t talk about them. It means slowing down long enough to notice. It means listening without jumping in to fix everything. It means showing up consistently so they know they have at least one adult who won’t give up on them.
Psalm 27 ends with a reminder to “wait on the Lord” — to be strong and take heart. But waiting is hard when you’re young and hurting. That’s why they need us. Not to preach at them or tell them everything will magically get better, but to sit with them in the hard moments and remind them that God hasn’t forgotten them.
Sometimes the most Christlike thing we can do is simply be present.
These kids don’t need perfect adults. They need steady ones. They need people who see them, who hear them, who believe them, and who remind them — gently and consistently — that they matter.
And if we can do that, even in small ways, we’re giving them something real. Something hopeful. Something that reflects the heart of God.
