Chris Williamson

"My parents tried everything, but it ultimately came down to, ‘Here is our son, he is completely out of control, and he is disrupting our home,'" Chris Williamson, now 25, said.

As a teaching parent at a KEYS home in Olathe - one of seven homes harboring more than 60 teenagers - Williamson says he sees much of himself and who he was in the boys who go through the program today.

His history reads like the prototype design of a teen riddled with behavioral disorders, though he was never diagnosed.

Chris had been kicked out of school so many times in Wyandotte County that public schools were no longer an option.

"I was doing anything to get negative attention - when I went to the principal's office, I would just laugh at the guy," he recalled.

By 13, he had already paid two visits to the Juvenile Justice Authority, gotten kicked out of middle school altogether and was sent to a living-learning treatment facility in Pittsburg for one year.

No change.

Ultimately, Chris' seemingly unalterable behavior landed him in Kansas state custody, where he was shuffled from one group home to another.

At 14, Williamson found himself with literally nowhere else to go.

"I was really rough around the edges at the time," Williamson said."I didn't comprehend the ramifications of my actions."

In retrospect, he says, the implications of his behavior were crystal clear: Soon, he would be heading directly to jail, without passing ‘go.'
...
"He had such an overwhelming willingness to change," recalled Gonzalez, who served as Williamson's ‘teaching parent' from his first day at KEYS.
...
Through KEYS, Williamson discovered that beneath his shell of destructive defense mechanisms was a boy with a precocious intelligence and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge.

"Once I started learning, I could not stop," he said."I loved reading about science, I loved writing loved the quest for knowledge."

He also made the determination that there was indeed nowhere else for him to go - but up.

It was then that Williamson met Brian Haskell, another KEYS resident, who became his best friend after a lifetime of problems building relationships.
...
Williamson also credits his success to the unfettered support of his late grandfather George Hawkins.
...
The second year, Williamson said, "was the best year of my life - there was a huge ‘growth ring' for me."
...
Today, Williamson is finishing his core classes at Johnson County Community College before starting a bachelors' degree program at the University of Kansas.

Most important, Williamson said, is that he is now giving back to KEYS what was given to him 10 years ago.

"It's like a continuum there are these people that gave so much to me, and now I am going to be the person that gives so much to them," he said.

Having ‘been there' gives Williamson an inevitable advantage in relating to the kids.

"I'll see the ADHD kid, for instance, and I'll think to myself, ‘I know how to teach this kid a healthy coping mechanism.'"

But Williamson says he has made a conscious decision not to reveal to the boys that he, too, is a product of KEYS, though they do know that he was in state custody.

"I am always thinking about them - I just want to maintain the focus on them," he said.
...
More than anything else, Williamson says, he wants to raise awareness and increase support for KEYS in the community.

"My parents tried everything, but it ultimately came down to, ‘Here is our son, he is completely out of control, and he is disrupting our home,'" Chris Williamson, now 25, said.

As a teaching parent at a KEYS home in Olathe â€" one of seven homes harboring more than 60 teenagers â€" Williamson says he sees much of himself and who he was in the boys who go through the program today.

His history reads like the prototype design of a teen riddled with behavioral disorders, though he was never diagnosed.

Chris had been kicked out of school so many times in Wyandotte County that public schools were no longer an option.

"I was doing anything to get negative attention â€" when I went to the principal's office, I would just laugh at the guy," he recalled.

By 13, he had already paid two visits to the Juvenile Justice Authority, gotten kicked out of middle school altogether and was sent to a living-learning treatment facility in Pittsburg for one year.

No change.

Ultimately, Chris' seemingly unalterable behavior landed him in Kansas state custody, where he was shuffled from one group home to another.

At 14, Williamson found himself with literally nowhere else to go.

"I was really rough around the edges at the time," Williamson said."I didn't comprehend the ramifications of my actions."

In retrospect, he says, the implications of his behavior were crystal clear: Soon, he would be heading directly to jail, without passing ‘go.'
...
Through KEYS, Williamson discovered that beneath his shell of destructive defense mechanisms was a boy with a precocious intelligence and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge.

"Once I started learning, I could not stop," he said."I loved reading about science, I loved writing loved the quest for knowledge."

He also made the determination that there was indeed nowhere else for him to go â€" but up.

It was then that Williamson met Brian Haskell, another KEYS resident, who became his best friend after a lifetime of problems building relationships.
...
Williamson also credits his success to the unfettered support of his late grandfather George Hawkins.
...
The second year, Williamson said, "was the best year of my life â€" there was a huge ‘growth ring' for me."
...
Today, Williamson is finishing his core classes at Johnson County Community College before starting a bachelors' degree program at the University of Kansas.

Most important, Williamson said, is that he is now giving back to KEYS what was given to him 10 years ago.

"It's like a continuum there are these people that gave so much to me, and now I am going to be the person that gives so much to them," he said.

Having ‘been there' gives Williamson an inevitable advantage in relating to the kids.

"I'll see the ADHD kid, for instance, and I'll think to myself, ‘I know how to teach this kid a healthy coping mechanism.'"

But Williamson says he has made a conscious decision not to reveal to the boys that he, too, is a product of KEYS, though they do know that he was in state custody.

"I am always thinking about them â€" I just want to maintain the focus on them," he said.
...
More than anything else, Williamson says, he wants to raise awareness and increase support for KEYS in the community.