I spent a few hours with the staff and youth of Jewison House, an intake unit at our Pilot Butte campus. The intake houses are where youth initially live; it’s where they learn about us and we learn about them.

While the experience was admittedly awkward (observing strangers all day), it did change my perception and thoughts of what group home living and working is all about.

To my surprise, it was very “normal”. The house was similar to any other house (albeit with 10 bedrooms); the kids acted like any other kids; and the staff stuck to schedules and fulfilled responsibilities as they worked their shifts.

There were no crises, no meltdowns, and no emergencies (although I’m told these do happen, sometimes more frequently depending on the group).

When I first walked through the door the unit manager (kind of like the head of the household) was speaking to a family there visiting their son. The adults spoke about the boy’s progress while he and his sister stood nearby catching up and chatting away.

The rest of the kids were getting ready to go to the rink. We walked across campus where the boys could hit the asphalt to shoot some hoops, play some soccer, and toss a football. The staff joined in, playing with the kids.

As noon-hour neared, the group headed back to get ready for lunch.

The house mom (whose job title pretty much defines her role) was in the kitchen preparing homemade pizza buns and mushroom soup. One staff and youth parted ways to set the table while the group sat in the living room. Some kids huddled around the table to play cards, a couple built Lego, and another played some kind of Bop-It game (way more advanced than the one I had).

The house was quiet considering there were seven boys, six staff, and a handful of visitors inside. When I looked around I saw a family’s home – photographs hanging on the wall, games lining the shelves, and the kitchen busy with activity. But despite the hominess, I was snapped back to reality when I heard the whispers of staff taking head counts and listened as kids asked permission to leave the room.

One thing I noticed early on was how the staff really gelled. They were constantly letting each other know what was happening, how someone was feeling, who was coming or who was going.

The other thing I noted was that kids were always busy. The staff made a huge effort to keep the boys engaged. They weren’t sitting on the couch staring at the wall, they were asked to play a game, do an activity, or finish a chore.

Before we sat down to lunch at our assigned seats, all the staff and youth gathered together in the living room for a group meeting. The youth care leader (YCL) started off the group by asking how the day was going, and if anyone had any questions, concerns or issues. After the boys made their introductions to me, they got up one by one to wash their hands and sit at the table.

As the kids munched on their pizza buns and sipped their soup, they talked to each other and to the staff. Hunting, facial hair, and their upcoming camping trip came up in conversation, a request for chocolate milk was also made but denied (because that’s a weekend treat).

After their plates were clear, the boys asked permission to leave the table. They put away their dishes and went to brush their teeth. They slowly funneled back into the living room where they took their places on the couch. I couldn’t help but notice the smallest boy who stuck by the YCL, hanging off of him, giggling and joking around- something like brothers would do.

Plans for the afternoon were rehashed and the boys were asked again if they had any questions, concerns, or issues. Everything was kosher. Two boys and one staff headed to the Science Centre for the afternoon, two other staff and four boys headed out for games, and I tagged along with a staff and youth to shop in preparation for a camp trip.

The three of us jumped into the vehicle. The teenage boy sat in the front seat as requested (for supervision reasons, although that wasn’t explicitly explained). The staff handed her iPod to the boy who was DJ for the ride. After a few minutes of driving, and some 15 song previews later, we arrived at the big box store. We stuck together and looked through the racks for jeans, t-shirts, and shorts. We were shopping for the one boy with us, and a few others back at the house—it was no problem though, the staff assured me, she knew the boys’ style and sizes off the top of her head.

Looking in as an outsider, you would never know the staff and youth were from the Ranch. You wouldn’t know that he was an “at-risk” child or that she was a youth care worker. The two laughed over trendy t-shirts, and asked for each other’s opinions when it came to the wash and size of jeans.

After grabbing some gear we headed to another store to pick up some socks and underwear. It seems teenage boys go through a lot of these, especially when camping. Some $170 later the bags were stuffed full of boxers and socks, and we were on the road ‘home’.

When we arrived back to the house, the group was laughing and talking over a game of cards; one staff was knelt on the floor with an explosion of camping equipment nearby (presumably packing); and the staff I arrived with had moved on to sorting receipts and tallying the budget.

All in all I was surprised by the day. I wasn’t shocked for the amount of dishes, the number of activities, or for the expensive shopping but for the ease at which the boys got along with each other and with the staff.

It’s clear that relationships are the thread that sews this place together. Without that thread the whole thing would fall apart.