THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, July 28, 1995 TAG: 9507270195
SECTION: VIRGINIA BEACH BEACON PAGE: 10 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: SENIORS
SOURCE: BY PAM STARR, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 125 lines
The teenage girls who live at Seton House, a crisis shelter, don't always relate to adults in a positive way.
Most of them are victims of abuse and don't trust anyone older. The last thing they want is someone telling them how to live their lives.
But when retired military officer Al Mitchell visits, as he has regularly for the past 10 years, the television shuts off and gabbing stops. The girls sit quietly on the couches in the cavernous family room of the shelter, eagerly awaiting his words. Mitchell, 82, gives the girls the right mixture of motivation, career advice, pep talk and grandfatherly wisdom during the hour or two he will spend at the shelter.
Program coordinator Tricia Leveille said that Mitchell helps the girls empower themselves to take control of their lives. Seton House is a short-term crisis intervention shelter, where girls can stay for between two weeks and two months.
``It's good for the girls to have a role model of an older male - it helps them break some of the stereotypes,'' said Leveille. ``Al's a wonderful volunteer. He has done a lot of different things here - he helps with fund-raisers, golf tournaments, yard sales, arts and crafts.''
Mitchell's primary purpose at the shelter, however, is career counseling. He's a former guidance counselor at Ryan Academy in Norfolk and wanted to continue helping children when he retired several years ago. He lives by himself in Southern Points and travels abroad frequently, usually lodging in youth hostels.
``I lost my wife over 10 years ago, and I had a very good marriage,'' said Mitchell, a Boston native who talks with a trace of an accent. ``This and traveling have made my life very happy. I've adopted these girls - I love them and they like me.''
That was evident last Wednesday, when Mitchell addressed the six girls who presently are staying at the shelter. He asked their names and what they wanted to be when they grow up. Most had pretty high goals - a doctor, a lawyer, a counselor, a cosmetologist. Mitchell started his talk by passing around a picture of a pretty Chinese girl, Joon. Joon spent a summer with Mitchell at the request of her mother.
``This girl came to the United States four years ago and could hardly speak English,'' Mitchell said. ``But since then, she graduated first in her accounting class, got a good job, got married and has a baby. I'm real proud of her.
``The higher your aim, the further you're going to go,'' he added. ``What I'm telling you will work. Never give up your goals.''
As if to prove his point, Mitchell pulled out a piece of paper from his folder. A short essay called ``Thinking'' was printed on it. Mitchell read part of the composition to the girls:
If you think you are beaten, you are;
if you think you dare not, you don't;
if you like to win but think you can't
it's almost a cinch you won't.
If you think you'll lose, you're lost,
for out in the world we find
success begins with a fellow's will
it's all in the state of mind . . .
``You can do it - it's all up in your head,'' said Mitchell after finishing the rest of the essay. ``But you've got to do some planning. It's sort of a step-by-step process.''
He stopped for a moment and looked around at the girls, who ranged in age from 13 to 16.
``Why have high goals?'' he asked.
Two of the girls answered ``to better ourselves.'' But one 16-year-old slumped further in the couch before replying.
``All my life I've been on the honor roll and done good,'' she said. ``Now my life is so bad. All my chances got shot because my parents abused me and now I might be pregnant. Why even have goals?''
Mitchell looked at her tenderly.
``People have misfortunes all through life,'' he said softly. ``I really believe that the worst of your life is when you're a teenager. You can't let anybody get you down. I'll talk to you more tomorrow when I come back.''
Satisfied, she sat up straighter and smiled.
``OK, thanks,'' she said.
The career talk resumed. Mitchell asked the girls how they could get a job with security and prestige. They all answered ``a good education.'' He told them that the last two years of high school are the most important if they want to go to college.
``School counselors can see if you goofed off,'' he said. ``They'll look at your class standing and extracurricular activities. You have to get involved with stuff at school.''
Paying for college is another matter. But Mitchell had an answer before it was even asked - scholarships. The National Scholarship Research Services reported that $7 billion is available from corporations, but that only $400 million is used.
``If you go to the library and do a little research, you'll find something that fits you,'' he said, pulling out another paper. ``For instance, if you want to be a mortician you can get a scholarship. John Gatling developed the gun; if your name is Gatling, you can get a $7,000 scholarship at North Carolina State.''
The girls laughed.
``If an ancestor signed the Declaration of Independence, you can get $1,000,'' he continued. ``If you have a relative that competes in harness racing, you can get a $3,000 to $5,000 scholarship. There's a way to do this if you put in an all-out effort.''
After discussing jobs and employment opportunities, Mitchell concluded his talk by asking them to say his favorite expression. Only one girl knew it by heart because she had heard Mitchell talk the last time she stayed at the shelter.
``Winners make it happen, losers let it happen,'' she recited.
Mitchell beamed.
``That's right, honey!'' he said. ``I believe in that 100 percent. If you're a loser, you don't care what happens. All you girls are winners.''
They smiled and thanked Mitchell for his time. He stayed and chatted for a few more minutes. Two girls said they enjoy spending time with Mitchell because he shows them that he cares.
He promised to go back the next day to speak with each girl individually.
``He's the only older person we get to see,'' said one girl. ``He's like a surrogate grandfather. It's nice.'' ILLUSTRATION: Staff photo by CHARLIE MEADS
``This and traveling have made my life very happy. I've adopted
these girls - I love them and they like me,'' says retired military
officer Al Mitchell.
by CNB