The Boy Who Acted Out of Heart

Earn CE Credit

• Meeting Shadow
• Meeting the Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD
• The Plan
• Meeting the Boy Who Acted Out of Heart
• Follow Up
• The Reading
• Fast Forward
• The Interview
• Next Steps
• Change Story Framework
• Interviews
• The Reading
• Wrapping Up
• Epilogue
• Final Thoughts
• Acknowledgements

Meeting Shadow

I was about six weeks into my practicum experience when I met Shadow (a name he chose to use). I had spent the last year of my master’s program learning theory and practicing in role plays, and I was excited to start working with actual clients. Alongside the excitement of this new role, I couldn’t help but feel nervous, wondering how, and even if I would be able to help the young people and families I would be working with. I remember this same mix of feelings as I looked over Shadow’s referral and called the family to set up our first appointment.

Shadow came to our office with his father to begin my agency’s assessment process. He was nine years old at the time and a few months into his 4th-grade year. I saw his eyes widen as he entered my site’s playroom for our session. He moved slowly to the couch, taking it all in, before he perched on the cushion next to his father, continuing to study the mountains of toys and games the room held. You could almost see his mind racing through the possibilities, making a list of all the toys he wanted to play with. As soon as he was given the okay, he eagerly began the process of digging through the bins of toys, marveling over and exclaiming about each of his new finds.

As we went through the assessment process, Shadow’s father painted a picture of the struggles that Shadow and his family had been facing. He described his son’s tantrums, which would happen several times a day, last for extended periods of time, and include quite a bit of screaming, cursing, throwing things, and slamming doors. Shadow was not doing any schoolwork, was getting into fights with classmates, and had been suspended multiple times. He had a habit of running from the classroom and hiding from school staff in the bathroom. Shadow’s school seemed to be on their last straw and had asserted that Shadow needed to be on ADHD medication. Shadow had repeatedly told me that he had no friends and would make comments about wanting to kill himself.

While his father shared these concerns, Shadow continued to move around the room, digging through the bins of toys, occasionally stopping to play with an item briefly or to show his father what he had found. He was so focused on his exploration of the room that it would have been easy to think he was distracted by the toys, but Shadow made it apparent that he was taking in every word. When certain matters were discussed, Shadow responded with protests, attempting to overrule the discussion by yelling over his father and begging him to stop speaking. At some point in the session, he discovered a toy accordion and quickly learned that, if he played it loudly enough, the ruckus this instrument created made it almost impossible for the discussion to continue. He used this strategy several times when the topic seemed to become too much.

Shadow’s response suggested to me that he had heard these lists of concerns many times before, and his embarrassment was such that he didn’t wish for me to know his father’s concerns. When questions were addressed to him, they were often met with a simple, “That’s classified.” Despite some of these challenging topics, when the session ended, Shadow didn’t want to leave. I felt confident that, if nothing else, he would be back for the toys.

As a novice clinician, I wondered if I might be able to help Shadow and his family in some way. Fortunately, I already had some ideas in mind.

Meeting the Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD

In my coursework, I had been drawn to the practice of “externalizing conversations,” primarily those I had read in Michael White’s book, Maps of Narrative Practice. I remember being moved to tears by the story of Jeffrey, featuring a young boy who had been diagnosed with ADHD (1). I was excited about the possibility of trying out this practice with Shadow, but I found myself feeling nervous to jump right into such a conversation. To remedy this, I decided to simply share the story of Jeffrey with Shadow. I had a feeling that Jeffrey’s story might resonate with Shadow in some way, and that it might help me figure out what I wanted to do next.  

I knew Shadow was a big reader, so in our second session together, we settled in with some Legos, and I started the conversation by asking if he had read anything interesting lately. This question led to me receiving an interesting lesson regarding a story Shadow has read about spiders that can breathe underwater. Then, I took my opportunity.

Katie: You know, I was just reading a cool story (I actually had).

Shadow: What was it about?

Katie: It was about this kid named Jeffrey.

Shadow: Jeffrey.

Katie: And he was probably about your age.

Shadow: Oooh.

(While Shadow continued digging through a large bucket of Legos, I could tell that I had his full attention - or at least most of it.) 

Katie: And he had- Actually, kind of some similarities.

(Here I acted as if I had just realized the connection to add some intrigue. It seemed to work.)

Shadow: Really? (Shadow sounded surprised.)

Katie: He had been diagnosed with ADHD.

Shadow: Does he go crazy like me? (Shadow laughed mischievously and then as if to make sure I got the joke, repeated himself.) Does he go crazy like me?

Katie: I would not say that he goes crazy. He goes to see this therapist. And the therapist asks him what kind of ADHD he has. And it turns out that-

Shadow: No way he says the same thing as me.

(Shadow was fully invested now.)

Katie: The same thing as you? Well, what would you say? We can see if it’s the same.  

Shadow: No way. A Mega Ultra Lot Ton Crazy ADHD or something like that.

(Shadow said the name slowly, seeming to wonder how many adjectives he could string together to accurately describe such a powerful entity.)

Katie: Okay, can I write that down? (Searching around for my notebook and pen) That’s really good. Okay.  

(I brought attention to my notes intentionally, as this is an important practice I had learned in Narrative Therapy. I wanted to bring attention to the importance of the specific words that had just been shared. I also had not expected us to get to this point so quickly, but in what came to be a common experience I had with Shadow, he was way ahead of me.) 

Shadow: Mega Ultra Crazy Mega ADHD? Well, that’s what I call it.

(I noticed how quickly Shadow had taken the role of an expert about his ADHD.)

Katie: That's what you call it?

Shadow: Mhm. (Still workshopping the name.) A Mega Ultra ADHD.

Katie: Okay I gotta get it exact.   

(With my notebook and pen finally in hand, I began saying the name slowly, and as I wrote, Shadow began repeating the final version just ahead of me.)

Katie: Mega… Ultra…

Shadow: Crazy… ADHD (Shadow giggled). Wait, why are you writing this down? I'm confused.  

Katie: I just like to remember when you say cool things.

Shadow: That’s cool? (He sounded surprised, but excited.)

Katie: Yeah, Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD. That's pretty cool.

Our conversation took many twists and turns, but I found opportunities to weave Jeffrey’s story into our discussion and to see how Shadow might resonate with certain aspects of Jeffrey’s experiences, while also taking the time to see the differences that came with Shadow’s Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD.

Katie: So anyways, this therapist and Jeffrey, they find out that this ADHD is making all these problems for Jeffrey-

Shadow: That’s what my ADHD is doing! Dumb, stupid ADHD. 

(Shadow’s face scrunched in anger as he muttered his condemnations.)

Katie: Yeah? You think it’s causing problems? Well, do you want to know what Jeffrey did next?

Shadow: What?

(He asked this casually, perhaps as his attention moved from the story to his Legos. But his interest was about to peak again.)  

Katie: So, Jeffrey and this therapist, they worked together. And they figured out all the things that Jeffrey’s ADHD was doing to cause problems and it was things with his parents, things at home, things at school… And they realized that they could outsmart ADHD because they-

Shadow: They what?

(Shadow looked at me like I had just said something absolutely preposterous.)

Katie: They realized they could outsmart ADHD.

Shadow: That’s cap.

Katie: That’s cap?

Shadow: Mhm.  

Katie: That means that’s cool, right?

(My slang was wrong. Luckily, Shadow corrected me.)

Shadow: There’s no way.

Katie: There’s no way?

Shadow: It's impossible.

(He said this with conviction, almost scoffing at such an unfathomable possibility.)

Katie: It’s impossible?

Shadow: It's zero point zero zero zero zero chance.

(He emphasized each zero, adding more and more conviction to his strongly held idea that an ADHD was unbeatable.)

Katie: Well, what if I told you they did it?   

(I said this with a hint of challenge, wondering what Shadow would think about the possibility that another boy, somewhere, had once outsmarted an ADHD.)

Shadow: No that's- that's- no way.

I had noticed this theme of near defeat in Shadow’s perspective several times. It seemed he believed this Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD to be all-powerful and insurmountable. I was sure that he had good reasons for believing that this was true, and I was curious to find out what those reasons were.

Katie: So, can I ask you about this Mega Ultra- What was it- Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD?

(I took a moment to check my notes, giving Shadow one more chance to confirm that this was the exact right name. It seemed we had found it.)  

Shadow: Yup.

Katie: Do you think it- (I stumbled a bit with my words, realizing I had countless questions about this Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD. I settled on one.) What do you think it’s like?

Shadow: (Responding quickly and rapidly) It just takes control of me and then I don't know what happens.

Katie: Oh, it takes control, it like steals your memory? Wipes it away?

(This addition included a guess from something he had said earlier in our conversation.)

Shadow: Yep. And I don't remember anything after.  

Katie: Yeah? (asked as a question, as if to say, “Really?”)

Shadow: Well, sometimes I do…

(Shadow trailed off. I noted his willingness to not let the Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD take all the blame.)

 Katie: So, it takes over and what kind of stuff does it do when it takes over?

Shadow: Uhh... get mad and stuff like that.

Katie: Your ADHD gets mad? What does it look like when it gets mad?

Shadow: Starts screaming and stuff like that.

Katie: Yeah.

Shadow: Sometimes I do it without the ADHD.

As our conversation continued, Shadow laid out the misdeeds of the Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD for making him do “bad stuff,” like screaming, yelling, getting mad at his parents, and running away from his classroom. We also learned that the Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD loved TV and “has so much fun that he never wants to stop,” often refusing to give back the remotes no matter what consequences they might face or how much his parents pleaded with him to do so. Shadow told me that his parents “would give him the world, if they could,” but that the Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD was getting in the way of that by always getting him in trouble. When I asked Shadow what the Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD’s goals were, Shadow said, resolutely, “To make my life miserable.”   

The Plan

As I walked away from our session, I knew we would need something powerful to counter this particularly strong Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD and the problems it was causing for Shadow. I had learned about wonderfulness interviews in a narrative therapy seminar course and had been both moved and impressed by their potential. Among other things, wonderfulness interviews can have the effect of restoring a child’s “reputation” and move them into the position where they are an agent of change, capable of responding to situations with intention (2). A wonderfulness interview “replaces ‘the generalizable child,’ who can be spoken of in the broadest sense…with a young agent who lives according to a particular set of values and is capable of responding to events by specific means” (2).

 had a suspicion that this might be just the thing we needed to learn a little more about other sides of Shadow, without the Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD getting in the way. With my next steps in mind, I made a mental note to work with the family to plan a time so that both of Shadow’s parents would be able to attend such a session.

Two sessions later, when I opened the door to the lobby for my next meeting with Shadow, I was surprised to find Shadow sitting with both his parents (Or, more likely, playing basketball with our wicker basket and whatever other items in the lobby he deemed throw-able.) No scheduling needed. Before they saw me, I hurried back to my desk, found a small sticky note with the steps of a wonderfulness interview I’d prepared, and went back out to greet them, asking if Shadow’s parents were willing to join us. They happily agreed.   

Meeting the Boy Who Acted Out of Heart

Once everyone had settled in, with Shadow’s parents on the couch and Shadow kneeling on the floor, diligently working on a Pikachu coloring page, I opened up the conversation. As this was my first wonderfulness interview and first time asking such a question, I struggled a bit with my words, but was able to get to the heart of what I was asking.

Katie: So, what I wanted to ask you guys is, it’s kind of a little bit different than the assessments. We’ve already done, It's a different approach from that. It’s to tell me a little bit about Shadow’s wonderfulness- meaning, what makes him so wonderful. And one way that you can talk about this is thinking about if I was trapped on a desert island with Shadow, what would be the thing that I would come to notice about him or would rely on him for? (One of the practices I have taken up as I’ve learned about narrative therapy is asking this question in several ways and taking up some time so that by the time I’ve finished forming the questions, parents and caregivers are ready to answer right away, typically with a long list of ideas. Before I had even finished the question, Shadow jumped in with what I’m guessing is a comment he’d heard more than once.)  

Shadow: Most annoying person in the whole entire world.

(Fortunately, his Mom was quick to counter this.)

Mom: No. You would be so brave. You’d see a thing and you’d say, “Mommy.”

Shadow: I would shoot it. Pew pew.

Mom: No, you would probably be, you know, ready to save me. Right?

(Shadow’s Dad was also ready to jump in with a theme that would come up again and again.)

Dad: He likes to share.  

Shadow: Really??

(Shadow sounded shocked - as if his father had just made a truly absurd claim.)

Dad: Yeah.

Mom: Yes you do.

Shadow: (Sounding almost incredulous) No, I’m the opposite!  

(It appeared Shadow had taken on some unfavorable views about the person he was.)

Dad: No, Pa. (Shadow’s parents often referred to him with this nickname.)

Mom: No, you do.

Shadow: When was the last time I shared?  

(Shadow threw out this question like a challenge as if he knew without a doubt that he had just stumped his parents with an impossible task. He had also taken the words right out of my mouth. I waited with anticipation to hear what example they might come up with, and I was excited to find that they had no difficulties conjuring up stories of Shadow’s generosity.) 

Mom: When your cousins come- like, Ethan. You always like to share your toys.

Shadow: Yeah, but that’s because if I don't he’s gonna start crying and then Javier will get mad at me.

Mom: (Sounding skeptical) Oh, really?

Dad: That’s not true, Pa.

Shadow: Yes, it is!

(Shadow wasn’t convinced. He appeared to be ready to debate this characterization of his generosity to the bitter end.)  

Mom: No, you have always shared and you even give him some of your toys.

Shadow: Because he keeps begging and begging and begging…

Dad: Or when we go to Costco and get a big thing of ice cream.

Mom: Yes, of ice cream or something- You're always offering us.

Dad: You offer.

Shadow: Because you always ask me to. (Shadow’s dad laughed)

(It seemed that at each turn, Shadow had a reason to believe that these actions he’d taken were not of his own volition, that he was simply doing them because someone would be upset if he didn’t. I set out to find an undeniable example.)  

Katie: So there are times when you do share even when you haven’t been asked?

Dad: Yeah.

Katie: Could you tell me about one of those times? Of the many that you could choose from?

Shadow: (Still unconvinced) A million years ago.

Mom: Oh, like I said, always when he gets something like food or something, he’s like, “No Mommy you have it, you have it.” Right?

Dad: Yeah.

Shadow: Yeah, whenever there’s like a last piece of something I’m always like, Mommy you have it, have it.

(Shadow seemed to find this example indisputable and was forced to concede this point.)

Mom: No that’s at the beginning, Pa.

(Shadow’s mother was unwilling to let Shadow downplay his generosity.)

Shadow: Oh, yeah. Because you never eat.   

(Shadow has a knack for quick comebacks.)

Mom: Oh, that’s why you offer me? (Mom and Dad laughing)

Shadow: And well, because I have to be nice.

Dad: No, he does. You could tell that he’s doing it out of-

Mom: Out of heart.

Dad: Out of heart.

(Shadow’s parents seemed to settle on this description easily, refusing to declare Shadow’s generosity as anything but pure-hearted. But Shadow couldn’t help but throw out at least one more contradiction.)   

Shadow: I sometimes do it for the iPad...

Dad: Oh so he’s telling us everything now (chucking) so I guess he’s disclosing.

Mom: Which I don't really believe that.

Dad: No.

Shadow: (Speaking a little softer) Yeah, Imm trying actually.

(As much as Shadow loved the debate, here he again had to concede.)

Mom: You’re always being so sweet.

Dad: Yeah, he’s very sweet.  

This is it, I thought. I had been told all the mayhem and struggle surrounding this boy, but now I was hearing about another side of him. We had a boy who cares deeply about his toys yet shares them with his cousins. A boy who loves food yet offers the first bite to his mom. And he does it all out of his heart.

Hearing his parents share these stories, I started to view this young man in a different light, but I could also tell that Shadow wasn’t fully convinced. We needed to learn more. I continued to search for a story that would be undeniable. At one point in our conversation, his parents shared a story about Shadow at a recent flag ceremony in his Young Marines program, reporting how he was focused and disciplined, marching with his flag and standing at attention. Shadow filled in some details, revealing that he was making faces with a friend when no one was looking, though it seemed most people didn’t notice, as they thanked him for a job well done. Then, he got to help with boxing donations for Veterans, and his dad had a lot to say about Shadow’s love of helping others.

Dad: They were doing community service. And he loves doing that. He enjoys helping. Like when we ask him to do stuff and he’s pretty good. “Can you help us with cleaning the tables outside or can you help us with...?” And he also offers some, some things he wants to do but it's-

Shadow: Why are you saying such nice things about me when I barely even do any of that stuff?

(I jumped in.)  

Katie: Well, I’m hearing a lot of cases where you do it.

Shadow: (Sounding shocked) Really?

Katie: Yeah.

(And again, Shadow’s mom swooped in with a story.)   

Mom: Remember when we went to Father Owen’s birthday?

Katie: What happened there?

Mom: (To Shadow, prompting him to tell the story) What happened? Remember? After the party?

Shadow: Nope. (Pauses, thinking) Uhh...

 Mom: What were you doing there? You were one of the first kids to help do what?

Shadow: (Still thinking) Uhh...

Dad: Remember?

Mom: You were picking up what? And they were heavy.

Shadow: (With enthusiasm) Oh yeaaah! Oh my god! And I encouraged everyone. There were like these cardboard big piles. They’re like this (gesturing with arms), this wide and then like up to here, and they were like so heavy. They're like- Oh, let's see… (searching for the right words).

Dad: It was flooring.

Shadow: As big as this (gesturing to the large coffee table he’s coloring on).

Mom: Bigger than that.

(I watched as the discussion changed from a debate between Shadow and his parents to the family working together to tell me a story of Shadow’s altruism. They were rightfully determined that I comprehend the magnitude of his contribution.) 

Shadow: No no no, yeah, bigger than this (still gesturing).

Dad: Twice as big.

Shadow: It was as heavy as this (gestures again to the coffee table). It was as heavy as this.

Mom: And what were you doing?

Shadow: Only, I was like... there was only like adults doing it.

Mom: Mhm. And you were helping, right? Yeah. And until everything was gone.

Shadow: Yeah. Some kids came over because they were like, “Hey, you want some help?”

Katie: Wow so you were setting an example for them, huh?

Shadow: Yep.

This story continued, adding details about how Shadow inspired the other kids to help, began breakdancing and entertaining the crowd, followed by a story about how he and his mom would hide behind corners and jump out to scare each other.  

We spent the full hour sharing stories of Shadow’s many wonderfulnesses. Much of our conversation was centered around Shadow’s generosity and care for others, but the family also told stories of Shadow being almost fearless in the ocean, of everything except manta rays, and riding roller coasters over and over again. However, Shadow explained that sometimes his instincts would kick in and tell him that something was either too high or too dangerous.

I collected these stories, taking notes and bookmarking thoughts. I knew we had struck on some powerful themes and felt honored to have these stories shared with me so that I could get to know Shadow in this new light.

Follow Up

Thanksgiving break was coming up, and it would be a few weeks before I would see Shadow again. In the meantime, I spoke with Shadow’s dad on the phone. He reflected on changes he had seen since our last session, and how things were somewhat smoother at home. He mentioned that, since the interview, Shadow would often exclaim, “Look I’m sharing!” and “Look I’m helping!” Instead of working to debate his wonderfulnesses, Shadow was now invested in promoting them so that he and others wouldn’t miss them.   

In the meantime, I started work on a therapeutic document for Shadow and his family to share in our next session together. The practice of creating and sharing therapeutic documents with clients has a rich history in Narrative Therapy. I first learned of this practice through the many amazing examples featured in the book, Narrative Means to Therapeutic Ends. Then, through the work of Sanni Paljakka and the Calgary Narrative Collective, I learned about the practice of poetry writing as a therapeutic document (3). In this practice, the therapist crafts a poem from the session, pulling themes, using clients’ words, and adding elements to build on in the next session.

I had seen countless examples of this powerful practice and I decided I wanted to attempt something similar. I was excited to see how Shadow might be affected by hearing his story in this way.   

The Reading

In our next session together, I met with Shadow first. I wanted to surprise him, so I caught his attention by telling him I had read an interesting story and wanted to share it with him. He settled in with a coloring page while I began reading him the following poem, entitled, The Boy Who Acted out of Heart.

I heard a story
The other day
About a boy with special powers.  

The story tells of a boy who acted out of heart,
One who shared whenever he got the chance
Offering the first bite of his Costco ice cream
Or the last piece of his coconut donut.
With little ones, this boy was gentle and sweet
Sharing his toys and video games
And helping the little ones beat the big boss.

This boy had a love for entertaining,
Often breakdancing for a crowd
And telling his jokes whenever he could.
If you didn’t watch out, this joker might scare you
When he jumped out from around a corner
And yelled “Boo!”
Just like his mom.  

But this boy could be serious too -
Military Serious.
In Young Marines, he would get in position
Standing at attention
Marching his march
But, when no one is looking,
You might catch him entertaining,
Pulling faces with his friend,
Before snapping back in position.  

I heard this boy had a special skill for helping.
When it came time to help around the house
He would often jump up, without hesitation
Once at a birthday party he was even the first kid to help out
Moving heavy panels until everything was gone
Encouraging everyone,
So that the other kids wanted to help too.

Rumor has it that this boy was brave.
He was always on the lookout for spiders,
Protecting the rest of his house.
In the ocean, he showed no fear.
If it weren’t for the manta rays,
He would go all the way in.
And on roller coasters, he wouldn’t hesitate
He’d run right back up to get on the ride again.  

But even this boy,
with his special powers,
Knew his limits.
His instincts were strong
And would let him know when to stop
When it was dangerous
When there was something he didn’t like.   

I heard this story,
And it made me wonder what else this boy,
With his strong instincts,
His helping and sharing,
His skill for entertaining,
His bravery and heart,

Might be capable of.   

A few stanzas into the poem, Shadow exclaimed, “This sounds exactly like me,” with a tone of voice that suggested he was a little confused but also invested, and later, again with surprise and interest, “Wait, this is actually good!”

When I’d finished reading, I passed the paper over to him. As I started to ask a question, he picked up the paper and quietly read the entire poem out loud again to himself. He said, “This story is actually really good. You should publish it. (Thank you Shadow, for this idea.)

Later in the session, Shadow’s parents joined us. Shadow readily agreed with my suggestion that his parents should hear the story as well, and asked me to read it to them. They were clearly moved by the poem and were excited to show Shadow’s older sister. Shadow’s mom told him that she would put it in a box where she kept all of his childhood memories.  

Fast Forward

Shadow and I continued to meet every week or so and shared many interesting conversations. It wasn’t long into our work together before I started to hear about changes in Shadow’s life. Just before the Christmas holidays, Shadow’s parents told me how their home was becoming more and more “tranquil,” and how Shadow and his family were able to “enjoy each other’s company again.” While there were ups and downs, I repeatedly witnessed Shadow making huge bursts of change over and over again.

As the months went on, Shadow regularly provided evidence that things were changing in his life as well. In one session, he delighted in how he had “shocked” his classmates when he reacted calmly to matters that would have provoked a more explosive response just a few months before. He started doing schoolwork again and was excited about math. In one meeting, he told me that he had exactly one thousand friends.

As the summer approached, it was becoming clear to me that Shadow would soon be ready to graduate from therapy. Now that he was more connected to his special talents and abilities, he seemed more than capable of continuing to make changes to his life on his own, to go out and live the life he wanted to lead. But I also knew this readiness might be somewhat more apparent to me than it was to Shadow and others in his life.

I started to come up with an idea for a special therapeutic document to highlight the ways Shadow had chosen to live his life and to share those changes with those connected to him. In order to make this document, I would need to gather testimony from some eyewitnesses to Shadow’s changes. Witnessing interviews is a powerful practice in narrative therapy (1, 2, 4) and can serve many functions, including strengthening and connecting people to preferred stories. I decided to start with an interview with Shadow and his parents that would serve as a follow-up to our wonderfulness interview. This time, we would focus on changes Shadow had made since our previous interview, about his stronger and deeper connection with The Boy Who Acted Out of Heart. I prepped some questions and ideas in advance and invited Shadow and his parents for a special session.

The Interview

When Shadow and his parents had all settled in for our interview, I told them that I would reread the poem, The Boy Who Acted Out of Heart, and gave them the following instructions:   

Katie: I thought we could kind of go through it (the poem) a little bit and think about some times that we’ve seen The Boy Who Acted Out of Heart recently. I think we've been seeing a lot more of him lately.

Shadow: Oh wait I went to Knott’s Berry Farm (This is an amusement park a few hours from San Diego with many large roller coasters.)   

(I didn’t realize it until later in the session, but Shadow was already answering my question. He had clearly remembered the section of the poem that told of his bravery on rollercoasters.)

Katie: You went to Knott's Berry Farm?

Shadow: Yeah. You know how the Manta Ray always scared me? (Shadow had mentioned this rollercoaster at SeaWorld in San Diego a few times in previous sessions.)  

Katie: Uh huh.

Shadow: That's like a baby ride for me.

Katie: Oh, because we talked about roller coasters in this right? (gestures to poem)

Shadow: “If it weren’t for the manta ray he would go all the way.” Something like that.

(Here I realized that Shadow was quoting a line from the poem that I had read to him over six months before, a line about his bravery. I was amazed that the details of the poem had stayed with him in this way, that the poem had made this strong of an impression.)   

Katie: (sounding impressed) You remember that part? Okay. Okay, so I'll go ahead and read it. And as I’m reading it, just kind of think of any times that you might have seen this or if there's anything else we've learned about the Boy Who Acted Out of Heart.

(Shadow, rightfully, wasn’t quite done with his story.)  

Shadow: (Speaking rapidly) Oh wait, I went on the fastest roller coaster and every single roller coaster and I wasn't even screaming at all. We even did the scream one when we were, at least like 100 feet in the sky. And my mom was the one that was screaming.

Mom: I was screaming for who?

Shadow: Me.

Mom: Yes. (In mock screaming voice) “My Shadow, ohh.” (they laugh)

I began to read Shadow and his family the poem. As I went, Shadow interjected here and there, with comments like, “Dang that rhymes,” “It’s so catchy,” and “That’s actually true.” With the final line, where I had wondered what else he might be capable of, I once again presented my question.

Katie: So that last bit was the part that I was kind of thinking of. I think when I first met you, we could see all these things that you might be capable of. And I feel like now we've gotten to see you actually enacting a lot of those. So I'm curious, I think we'll start with your parents, if there's anything in particular, looking back at that (gestures to poem) and kind of where we've come from and where we are now, if there's anything that stands out to you of recent stories where you saw The Boy Who Acted Out of Heart or saw some of the things that he was capable of? Does anything come to mind?

(Shadow’s mom answered immediately.) 

Mom: Capable now of getting onto the scariest roller coaster. Once he got on the first one. He couldn't stop. Right? (Dad nods in agreement)

Shadow: Dang I went on the- I went on the second fastest one that almost made me throw up. And then I went on it again.

Mom: So brave now, right?

Katie: So is this something, what's this- Is that the Manta Ray? At Sea World?

Mom: No, at Knott's Berry Farm.

(It was the story Shadow had been trying to tell me at the start.)

Katie: At Knott's Berry Farm.

Shadow: And you go like upside down…

Mom: Scream. The Scream.

Katie: Oh okay.

Shadow: And you go like upside down and everything.

Dad: That was the first one he got on-

Shadow: (becoming more and more excited about his story) The orange one, wait wait wait, and then the orange one and then the other one that you keep on going upside down and upside down and then vroom vroom vroom. And they go super fast. And we were in the front.

Katie: Ohh, okay.

Dad: Yeah, the first one I think that finally broke or made- I guess… broke his fear of getting on a roller coaster. The scream, that's like, I don't know, like an 80-foot drop.

Katie: Oh, yeah, I think it's 205.

Mom: It's like a free fall. Or something like that. And then all of a sudden, Pew!

Dad: They drop you… Anyway, he got off and he ran over to me. He’s like, "Daddy, Daddy, I got on and I'm not scared of roller coasters anymore."

When it felt like we had moved through the story of Shadow breaking his fear on the biggest roller coasters at Knott’s Berry Farm, I went back, seeking more stories.

Katie: Okay, so- We have the story of Knott’s Berry Farm. Any other times where you feel like you’ve seen some of his special powers or any new powers that you might have seen?

Mom: Oh, yeah. At school.

Katie: At school?

Mom: He’s doing a lot better. He went on a field trip on Tuesday. And the teacher said it was a pleasure having him.

Katie: It was a pleasure having him?

Mom: Yes. (To Dad) We were kind of worried, right?

Dad: Yeah, we were.

Mom: They went to, um...

Dad: Cabrillo National Park. In Point Loma, yeah.

Mom: And I was like oh my god. He’s gonna jump over or something…

They took some time to set the scene for me, sharing how the park sits on a hill overlooking a view of the bay and downtown San Diego. Then they continued the story.

Mom: So yeah, the teacher was like, “I’m so excited,” and, “It was a pleasure having him.” We were, like, “Oh my God they’re gonna call us to pick him up.” But they didn’t… And I guess she took a lot of pictures. And he was in a lot of them. Which before we wouldn't see him that much in pictures.

Katie: Oh, like he’s too quick for them or…?

Mom: No because I guess he's always like, Oh, go do this, you know, like over here, you know, but...

Katie: But he was in... in the mix.

Mom: In the mix.

Dad: He was in the mix.

Shadow went on to tell me more about his field trip, excitedly sharing the history of the park and the monument there, as well as all the cool lizards he’d seen, particularly one that was green, blue, and yellow.

Throughout the rest of the session, we spent time on more stories about The Boy Who Acted Out of Heart. Shadow and his parents talked about him making friends at math tutoring and being sweet with his cousins. They shared how things were different at home and how other people in their lives had commented on the changes they had witnessed in Shadow.

Next Steps

Before I could begin the therapeutic document for this session, I had some other interviews to do. Throughout our work together, I had spent many sessions discussing Shadow’s changes with him and his parents. In these interviews, they mentioned comments from many other important adults in Shadow’s life, even the staff on lunch duty, who commented on his leadership abilities. In particular, I heard a lot about his 4th-grade teacher, who had been a witness to all of the changes I had been hearing about in our many months together.

I was able to experience some of these comments firsthand when, a few months into our work together, Shadow joined the art group at our office. After a rocky first session, the clinicians who ran the group started telling me about the changes they saw in him. Over and over, they caught me in passing moments, excited to tell me new stories. They shared how Shadow would jump in to help other group members, without being asked, as well as how he showed kindness and empathy, especially to those younger than himself. I was moved by these stories and quickly realized that, as much as I loved hearing them, it was more important that Shadow heard these stories.

I wanted to make sure that the stories held by these witnesses would not be lost, that Shadow would have a way to stay connected with them, even after leaving therapy and moving on to the next grade. I refined the questions I had prepared for the interview with Shadow’s parents and set up interviews with Shadow’s group leaders and teacher to create an archive of these stories. The questions took the form of the following interview framework, which I began to refer to as Shadow’s “Change Story.”

Change Story Framework

Change Story Framework

Identifying Changes

• What changes have you noticed in (name) in the past (period of time)? (a few weeks, months, since you met him, since starting therapy, etc.)

Storying Changes

• Can you share a story that illustrates the changes you have observed? (name specific changes that have been shared, ask for multiple stories as needed)

Effect on view of the person / Landscape of Consciousness Questions

• What do you think inspired (name) to make these changes?
• What have you come to know about (name) that has helped to make these changes possible?
• What effect, if any, have these changes had on the way you view (name)?
• What do these changes show about what (name) cares about or values?

Effect on view about the world

• What has been the effect, if any, of (name)’s changes on your own life?
• Have their changes had any effect on what you know/believe about the world/what is possible?
• If (name) has made these changes, what do you think that shows about the world/what people are capable of?   

Interviews

Over the next couple of weeks, I interviewed Shadow’s art group leaders and his teacher using this framework. They readily and excitedly shared stories of Shadow’s amazing strides. His group leaders spoke to his values and growth, as he helped others in the group, especially with other members he may have clashed with in the past. They talked about how working with him helped them feel like the work they did was meaningful, which was a sentiment I certainly shared.

His teacher spoke of how their relationship had grown over the school year and how he had started making meaningful connections with his peers. I even got to hear her glowing review of their field trip day firsthand. I couldn’t help but notice her bringing up the same green, blue, and yellow lizard Shadow had been so excited about.

I took these amazing stories and created a special therapeutic document, a newspaper article I I compiling eyewitness accounts of Shadow’s changes over the last nine months of his life into one clear and coherent story. (The idea for this particular format came from a couple of places. Shadow had once told me in an earlier session that I was interviewing his parents “like a reporter.” I also had worked on my school newspaper in undergrad, writing feature stories about students with interesting stories. And Shadow’s story was definitely an interesting one.)

The Reading

he reading of this article just happened to fall on Shadow’s last day of 4th grade, meaning we had been working together for about 8 months. When I saw him and his mom in the lobby, I couldn’t wait to share the story with them.

Always wanting to keep the element of surprise, I told Shadow I had an article to read to him and quickly flashed him the document so he could see that it looked exactly like a newspaper. After Shadow joked about how we were “going back to the dark ages” to “invent the lightbulb,” I began reading the following article printed in the (fictitious) Viewridge Times: 

    Recently, there has been an increase in reported sightings of The Boy Who Acted Out of Heart all across Southern California. Last week, The Boy was seen riding all of the scariest and biggest rides at Knott’s Berry Farm, over and over again.

“Once he got on the first one, he couldn’t stop,” his mom reported. “He wasn’t scared.”

Eyewitnesses report that The Boy broke his fear when he rode The Supreme Scream, which, according to the Knott’s website, takes riders a whopping 256 feet in the air, before they face a 50mph downward drop.

After exiting the ride, The Boy was heard exclaiming, “I’m not scared of rollercoasters anymore!”

Later that week, reports poured in as The Boy was spotted again at the Cabrillo National Monument in La Jolla, California. During a field trip, The Boy was seen identifying a rare yellow, green, and blue lizard.

“He just thrived,” his teacher and group leader, Ms. Clara, told reporters. “He was so excited to be outside and wanted to talk to me about all the lizards.”

“We came home and there was a lizard in the front of the house, his father reported. “He was really looking at the shapes and the patterns of the lizard…and making associations with the lizards over there (the Monument)... and saying how beautiful they are.”

Rare photographs of The Boy were captured, as he followed all directions and always came right back to the group.

Upon further investigation, it appears these sightings have been more and more common in recent months. In the Viewridge art group, The Boy has been seen comforting group members, making connections, and jumping in to help those in need.

“He’s definitely blossomed into being a big helper to everybody,” Ms. Nancy reported. “He's not shy about volunteering himself now to be the support person for somebody else. He’s really great to have in group.”

His helping skills were also seen by Ms. Emma, who reported seeing him comfort another member who was in distress.

“He was trying to include them and talk to them more.” Ms. Emma said. “He complimented them and just made them feel normal.”

These skills have also been seen at school, where The Boy has been taking part in Morning Meetings and Free Think Fridays. He will even follow up with his teacher about things they discuss.

“He loves hearing stories about my dog, Rose.” Ms. Clara reported. “He asks for a story every day.”

The Boy has also been seen using his skills for entertaining, whether it’s telling jokes at PE or bopping and dancing to the music while other kids performed at a talent show.

Fans of The Boy Who Acted Out of Heart may be wondering, how does he do it? How has The Boy been able to show up more and more?

Some speculate that it may be related to growing up. “I know he’s trying hard,” his mom told reporters. “He said to me, ‘Oh I turned 10 so I grew up. I think I have to start behaving.’”

“Going to Knott’s Berry Farm, I felt a lot of maturity there,” his dad added. “There’s a point of growth where you’re not deathly afraid of those scary rides. Because you have your mind set.”

Others wonder if it has something to do with his wants and values. “He definitely values helping others,” Ms. Nancy speculated. “And he wants to learn. He wants to be better at things. It’s like ‘I can do better and I want to be better.’”

Other reports are that he might be pulling from personal experience. “He’s empathetic and knows how to be caring,” Ms. Emma told reporters. “He’s been through it and knows how to make others feel safe. He uses his own experience to help other people.”

Whatever the reason, witnesses seem to be confident that we have not seen the last of The Boy Who Acted Out of Heart. We are all left to wonder - What will he do next?  

I had barely gotten through the first sentence of the article when Shadow jumped up from his chair and came to look over my shoulder at the article. He quickly exclaimed, “I know what you did!” And, to his mom, “Oh my- she put a lizard photo right there and a Knott’s Berry Farm photo!” I couldn’t help but laugh when it dawned on him that the document was all about him.

After Shadow and his mom had settled in with their own copies to read along, I started again. Luckily, there were more surprises in store. When I came to the first quote from one of Shadow’s group leaders, Shadow stopped me with a, “Wait what?” and I simply replied, “Sounds like she got interviewed too.” With each introduction of one of the important adults in Shadow’s life, he was shocked, and his biggest reaction came when he realized I had interviewed his teacher.

After reading Shadow’s article to him and his mom, I passed them an envelope with over 30 extra copies to share with anyone they deemed fit. (This idea also comes from reading about therapeutic documents in Narrative Means to Therapeutic Ends. It is a way to share these stories with other important people in clients’ lives in cases like these when there are many people who may need to hear these stories in addition to Shadow and his parents.)  

Shadow immediately exclaimed, “I know exactly who I’m giving these to!” and began naming all the other kids in his art group, which he would be attending after our session. I later saw that one of Shadow’s group leaders had pinned a copy above her desk.

Wrapping Up

Shadow and I only met a few more times before my internship ended. At one point, he told me that the Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD was gone. Though, in our next session, our last session, he amended his previous comment to say it was still there, but only when he needed it, “Like when I need to talk really, really fast, like this!” he said at top speed as he rushed out the door to meet his friends for his final group.

Epilogue

A little over a year later, I got the opportunity to meet with Shadow and his family again. Shadow had completed his 5th-grade year and was getting ready to move on to middle school. I had sent them the paper and wanted to hear their thoughts on the journey we had taken together. I was excited to have Shadow’s older sister, Grace, who was 14 at the time, with us as well. Shadow’s parents had already read the paper, but Shadow and Grace had not yet read it.

First, we spent some time discussing how things were before Shadow had made these changes in his life. The family shared details of their experience and the steps they had taken, going back to when Shadow was in 3rd grade. They shared details of Shadow’s suspensions and isolation at school. Below are summaries from Shadow and his mother.

Mom: One of the days he ran out of class I came to pick him up and they said to keep him home the next day. That was the first time he got suspended. Another time they had me keep him home for a week. Then the next week they said to keep him another, and then another, and it went on like that until the end of the school year. It got to this point where anything that happened was seen as his fault. Teachers and staff were seeing his progress, but he still had this reputation. This past school year, they started to realize when other kids were causing issues, not just Shadow.

Shadow: Back then I wasn’t allowed to do recess for two months straight and had to eat lunch by myself. I was so sick of it, but it was also normal for me at that point. Then I got to do lunch and recess again and now it’s all unsupervised.

I then asked the family what had happened after reading the newspaper article about The Boy Who Acted Out of Heart. They had told me they had shared the article with extended family, but I was curious to hear what effects the article might have had.

Mom: We shared it with his grandma, his teacher, and my sisters. They see it in him too, that he’s growing up. They’re so proud. His grandma got teary-eyed.

Dad: My mom was so happy. And I was talking with my brother-in-law this weekend and he was saying how much Shadow has grown up.

I then took advantage of the fact that we had Shadow’s sister, Grace, with us for the conversation. She had never been to a session with us before but I asked her to speak to her experience of watching Shadow go through this change and how it had affected her. She was immediately ready with answers.

Grace: He’s much calmer now. He still gets mad but not as much. If he does get upset, he’ll catch himself and apologize right away. Before when I would say something to him he would get mad, but now I can just talk to him. There’s no screaming or yelling. He used to say that he hated school and didn’t want to go but now he’ll say, “Oh I can’t wait to go to school. I can’t wait to see this person or that person.” And on Fridays he’ll say, “I can’t wait to go back on Monday.” Sometimes now he’ll want to be close with someone too, like he’ll just get up close to Mom. He used to not be as cuddly. He hugs me more and sticks up for me. He’s like my bodyguard. As soon as he’s calm he’ll want to play with you, almost to the point that it’s annoying but in a good way. You can tell that he used to have anger issues and struggle in school, but now he can do everything the other kids do. He’s not singled out anymore.

I then asked the family to cast their minds into the near future, perhaps the next school year, and think about what might happen in terms of his continued maturation.

Mom: I picture him going to school and getting his work done. I’ve seen that he’s able to do it. He’s smart and intelligent and has the ability to even get ahead.

Dad: There will be some challenges going into middle school, like needing to change classrooms every period and keeping things organized. But he really enjoys the work now and is excited to learn more about Math and History.

Grace: All my friends at middle school can’t wait to meet him. And I’ll be there to show him around. I think it’ll be easy for him. We have these awards they give out for when you’re doing well and you get gift cards and stuff. I feel like he’ll be good at getting those awards.

As we wrapped up the session, I prompted the family to reflect on some of the things that were different now at home. The family had been sharing Shadow had started singing all the time.

Dad: He’s been singing a lot lately - in the living room and his room. Or he’ll be in the car, singing.

Mom: I heard him singing in the shower. I love his voice.

Grace: Sometimes he’ll be in his zone and he’ll just start singing. We’ll just listen and let him do his thing. At first he was kind of embarrassed to sing, but he’s been doing it more and more. He’s happier now.

I wondered aloud to the family, thinking about how before the home was filled with yelling, screaming, and slamming doors, and now it was full of singing. Shadow’s mother said, “Yes, exactly. That’s exactly it.”

I had asked Shadow some questions during the session about what advice he might give to a 4th grade boy who was up against some of the obstacles he had faced in his fourth-grade year. At that time, he was not ready to answer. However, a few weeks later, after he had read the article, I met with him one-on-one and posed the questions again. This time, he had a little more to say. Below is a summary of our conversation.

Katie: So if you were to meet a 4th grader who was up against similar things that Shadow was up against, what do you think you would say to them?

Shadow: I don’t know… Be like me. Read my paper. And then I’ll give you my autograph.

Katie: So you would think that they should read your story?

Shadow: I guess.

Katie: And then you’d autograph it.

Shadow: And sell it for 50 bucks. (We laughed.)

Katie: If they were to read your paper, what would you want them to see or get out of it?

Shadow: I don’t know.

Katie: Do you think it would have any effect on them?

Shadow: Not really. Who says they would listen to an 11-year-old. They wouldn’t listen. I know kids.

(A fair point. I tried another angle.) 

Katie: Last time we met, you and your parents were sharing a little bit about what your school situation was like at the time. They were saying how it was almost like people were at this point where if even one thing happened, you’d get in trouble. Do you remember us talking about that last time?

Shadow: Yeah.

Katie: If they were to read it and see that there might be a way out or an end to what’s going on in that moment, what do you think that would be like for them?

(Here, Shadow took my question to be about if teachers read this article, which turned out to be a much more interesting conversational route.)  

Shadow: They’d believe in their students.

Katie: It would help teachers believe in their students?

Shadow: Yeah. They would.

Katie: Do you think your teachers saw that side of you much?

Shadow: No. Only Mr. E because he was like me as a kid. (Shadow told me previously that his 5th grade teacher, Mr. E, had shared that he also has ADHD and related to Shadow’s experiences.)

Katie: He was able to see that side?

Shadow: Yeah.   

Katie: So, for teachers who haven’t had that experience and don’t know what it’s like, what do you think the effect of reading it would be for them?

Shadow: That students have a hard time… and you need to give them a break.

Katie: It would have the effect potentially of them understanding that kids deserve a break and have a hard time?

Shadow: Yep.

Katie: So, the story could have an effect on teachers in that way. And if there were a 4th or 3rd grader that was having a hard time, what effect would reading that paper have on them?

Shadow: They’d maybe want to be like the kid.

Katie: They’d want to be like Shadow? In what ways?

Shadow: In every single way.

As we had been talking, Shadow had invented a new game using a fidget cube as a die. We went on playing this game for a while before wrapping up our session.

Final Thoughts

As I reflect back on the time I was able to share with Shadow and his family, being now just a few months shy of completing my third year as a therapist, I am filled with gratitude for their time, their wisdom, and their openness. When we met, I had only big ideas I was eager to try, with no way of knowing what the result might be. Shadow taught me countless lessons about what is possible in this world. I carry these lessons with me to the young people I continue to meet, who benefit again and again from his expertise. In sharing this story, I can only hope that his influence will spread even further. I share these experiences, these first attempts, with the hope that other therapists, especially those at the beginning of their journey as I was, may be inspired to take up the practices that speak to them - that they may also be moved by what Shadow has to show us about what is possible.

Acknowledgements

Thank you to Tom for guidance before, during, and after this work, as well as continued guidance to this day. I would not have thought this paper possible without your confidence in me.

Thank you to David for all of your feedback and your close attention to every word - I have learned greatly from this attentiveness and from your mentorship.

And of course, thank you to Shadow and his family for all that they have taught me and to Shadow alone for sparking the possibility of this paper with the comment, “You should publish this.”

References

(1) White, M. (2007). Maps of narrative practice. W.W. Norton & Co.

(2) Marsten, D., Epston, D., & Markham, L. (2016). Narrative Therapy in Wonderland: Connecting with children’s imaginative know-how. W.W. Norton & Company.

(3) Green, S., Luhtanen, T., Morton, C., Paljakka, S., Saxton, T., Szlavik, L., & Vincent, C. (2021). On the pedagogy of poetics. Calgary Narrative Collective Special Release Journal of Contemporary Narrative Therapy, 5. https://www.journalcnt.com/uploads/9/4/4/5/94454805/3._on_the_pedagogy_of_poetics.pdf

(4) White, M., & Epston, D. (1990). Narrative means to therapeutic ends. W.W. Norton & Company.  

Author’s Notes:

Some sections of the transcript have been edited slightly for readability, though I have tried to stay as loyal to their original version as I can.

During sections of the transcript, I use (brackets) and italics to symbolize thoughts interjected in real time, while the regularly formatted text means that I have moved forwards in time in the transcript.

Upon watching the recording of the session, I realized that early on in our work, I had missed an opportunity to say “The Mega Ultra Crazy ADHD gets mad” here, rather than “Your ADHD.”   

Editor’s Note: This article first appeared in the Journal of Contemporary Narrative Therapy, May 2025 Release, p. 29-62, and is re-printed here with the explicit permission of the author and publisher.