PUTTING PRIDE ASIDE TO BE A BETTER ROLE MODEL
Stamford educator wants adults to get comfortable with discomfort
STAMFORD — Barry Woods has been working with kids and young people for so long that he knows when something is wrong.
Often, he says, he sees his own difficult adolescence reflected in the young people he works with in Stamford.
“Because I’ve been through so much stuff, I would see it clear as day, where they’re about to go,” said Woods.
At Stamford’s alternative school, the city’s high schools, the Boys & Girls Club — anywhere that kids need help — Woods has taught the value of a strong support system and resilience.
Now, with a newly released book in hand and years working in Stamford under his belt, the longtime West Side fixture has a new mission in mind. He wants to turn his attention to adults and teach them how to be the role models young people need.
“If I’m going to hold a young person accountable, you better believe I’m going to hold an adult in their circle who is supposed to be supporting that young person, fully accountable,” he said.
Time and time again, Woods said he sees the same overarching themes while working with young adults: Kids with complicated home lives fixate on big dreams — breaking into the music or sports industries — as a way to escape from their day-to-day struggles.
Woods was no exception. He dabbled
in both worlds before starting his career in social work. He played basketball at Southern Connecticut State University in the late 1990s and later worked in the music industry. Eventually, Woods pivoted away from the high life and started working with young people instead, he said.
“I try to get kids to understand that there’s so much more to life than that,” he said.
And for those who still want to pursue their passions, whether it’s sports or music or making money, Woods becomes their biggest advocate.
Terell Middleton, 26, met Woods as an elementary schooler with basketball on the mind. He would watch his older cousin’s basketball showcases, which Woods coached, and bask in the glory of it all. He was young but talented and eventually started playing with the older kids. At the same time, Middleton said his bond with Woods became unbreakable.
“We have a love-hate relationship. One day, I can curse him out filthy, and he knows he just gotta take it,” Middleton said. “One day, we’ll just be laughing and giggling.”
Woods said he thinks that kind of emotional give-and-take is the bedrock of successful relationships with young people. But all too often, he sees adults run away from turbulent discussions and cast them aside as disrespect.
“If you don’t run into no cracks, if you don’t run into no bumps in the road, if you don’t run into anything that makes you unnerved — you’re doing nothing. Point blank. Period,” said Woods. Getting into emotional spats with the kids he works with, at this point, is just an occupational hazard, he said.
Instead of calling the moments rude, Woods said he wants other adults to use them as a way to build stronger emotional connections. In his newly released book, “Reasons Why Youth Don’t Give a Damn,” he encourages educators, mentors and parents to put their egos aside at these moments, too.
“If you wanted to be celebrated or praised for your efforts, then you should have chosen a career in politics,” he wrote. “It’s your job to go all out and support youth in completing their education and preparing them to be productive in life so they can contribute to our society in a positive way as self-sufficient adults.”
Building solid relationships with young people involves putting pride aside, communicating honestly and meeting them where they’re at — wherever that may be, he said.
The young people Woods has worked with say they think he has mastered the methods.
“He’ll randomly just call me out of nowhere and say ‘yo, what’s good? I haven’t heard from you in a while,’ ” said Middleton. He and Woods will stay on the phone for an hour, sometimes two, just catching up. For more than 15
years, he said, Woods has always been there to make sure he’s feeling solid.
The support went beyond periodic check-ins. In high school, when Middleton got seriously injured while playing basketball, Woods’ mentorship was a constant.
Woods would pick him up and drive him to basketball games and tournaments, even though the younger man was hurt. They both understood that being at those games was important to Middleton, to remain part of the community.
Denisha Thomas said she remembers meeting Woods at the ARTS program, the alternative school now called SPS Anchor, her sophomore year of high school. Fresh off an expulsion from Stamford High School, she said she felt apathetic toward
what came next in life. By senior year, Thomas still hadn’t found her stride. After two years in the program, she missed classes, showed up late and left assignments incomplete.
Now, as a 24-year-old, she credits Woods with helping her correct course.
“You’re better than what you’re doing,” she remembers Woods telling her, “So show me. Nobody’s going to believe it. You know it and I know it. So show them, too.”
During the pandemic, Woods took on yet another mentorship group. Through a program sponsored by former New York Knicks player Allan Houston, he’s started working with yet another group of boys, teaching them basketball and staying involved in their lives.
Through the Boys and Girls Club, Woods has been working with the Houston-funded FISLL Program for years. He’s an exacting basketball coach — some of his mentees have signed professional contracts abroad — but FISLL is just another way to connect with young people wherever they may be, he said.
“I don’t help kids for kudos,” he said. “I help kids because I love kids. I help kids because I used to be one of them. I help kids because I know how it feels to have nobody care about you. I help kids because I know what it feels like to be lied to by adults. I help kids because I know what it feels like to be left standing at the bus stop.”