Just a Thought …
People who are brought up to believe they are the center of the universe seem to have a hard time finding their place in the world.
One Talk Won’t Do It
A radio ad tells parents how important it is to talk to their children about drugs. In the conversation, a father timorously approaches his son, to have “the big drug talk,” only to find that the boy already knows all about them. The father’s attempt is obviously too late.
When Dad asks how the boy knows so much about drugs, he replies, nonchalantly, that he learned everything from his friends. The message of the ad is, of course, that he would have been better off hearing it from his dad, had Dad made the effort and done so in time. Throughout the dialogue between the two, it is obvious the son knows a whole lot more than Dad about drugs, and the implication is that it is probably knowledge born of experience or, at least, from direct observation.
It is true that the issues of substance abuse and morality in general should be adressed by parents, but they are not topics that can be covered in one well-timed chat. A parent cannot simply call Junior into the den, have a timid ten-minute conversation and expect it to prepare him for today’s world. Read the rest of this entry »
12 Step Forgiveness
Several years ago a man came to the probation office to see me. He was in a twelve-step recovery program for substance abuse, and said we had some unfinished business from when he was on my caseload, three years earlier.
He apologized for how badly he had behaved and admitted that, at the time, he would go to any extremes to use alcohol and drugs and couldn’t have cared less about how he treated people, especially me, his probation officer. He wanted to beg my pardon and make right the wrongs he had done. He added that I was only one of many people he had to face. He also made it clear that his success in coming to grips with his past did not lie with my willingness to receive his apology, although that would be nice. The important thing in his recovery was to make the effort.
The fact is, I didn’t remember how he had behaved toward me. Oh, certainly I accepted his apology and was thrilled to praise him for his current efforts, but he was only one of an entire caseload, many of whom had been rude, had consistently lied to me or been manipulative. Probation officers eventually come to grips with the fact that it isn’t our fault and we try not to take it personally. Read the rest of this entry »
Can You Pledge to be Compassionate?
According to a “Mail Online” article of March 6, 2010, an 11 year old boy died of dehydration in a South London hospital due to neglect by hospital staff. The article states that, at one point, the boy was “so desperate for a drink that he rang police to beg for their help.” When the police responded, they were told the boy was fine.
The article ends with, “This week a task force called on nurses to sign a public pledge that they will treat everyone with compassion and dignity.” I find that interesting and, frankly, it makes me shake my head in wonder. Do they really think that will take care of any problems?
Among other things, it is possible that the staff is overworked or that there are severe administrative problems, in which case a pledge won’t address the real issues. But, more importantly, if any of those staff members don’t have a true enough grasp of compassion — enough that it demands expression in their behavior without a pledge - signing their names won’t accomplish anything. That’s because the ideas themselves may have no intrinsic meaning. How can you pledge to do something you don’t truly “get”?
On the other hand, those who do have a genuine grasp of compassion, and who sincerely respect the dignity of others, don’t need to sign a pledge. They will naturally demonstrate such virtues because they are essential to their character.
Donut Dollies Re-Unite
Surely it hasn’t been almost 40 years since I returned from Vietnam. Surely the intervening years didn’t disappear like smoke from a summer campfire. Surely the very real events of my youth haven’t already been relegated to the unreality of history. Surely not, yet I have in my hands a piece of paper that suggests otherwise. This week I received an invitation to another Red Cross Donut Dolly reunion.
The term “re-union” is particularly appropriate in this case because, as Red Cross recreation workers in a war zone, we were very much united in spirit and in purpose. We were a team. We were there for each other. We cared and we were welded together by a once-in-a-lifetime experience that could never be forgotten. Read the rest of this entry »
Those Inner Conflicts
I think I was in college when I realized that some of my inner conflicts — you know, those little arguments we carry on within ourselves — were the conflicts my parents had with each other.
The Bud half of me would do something to embarrass or annoy the Esther half, and vice-versa, leaving me feeling I was wrong, no matter which “side” I chose. My parents’ disagreements had somehow been fused into one personality trait that was now mine, too. I was able to carry on the discord, all by myself. By default it had become necessary for me to try to solve their issues.
Maybe this is just another way to “inherit” family traits. Talk about genetic warfare …
A Name Is Not A Legacy
We were sipping coffee in Starbuck’s when I noticed “Luis” etched into the surface of our table. Luis no doubt believed he was making a meaningful statement, but I suspect he didn’t think it through.
Besides the mark in the table, Luis left a more telling impression. He left evidence of someone who has no respect for other people’s property and who doesn’t analyze his own behavior. Had he done so, he might have realized such a temporal mark would, in the long run, mean nothing. It is not a positive legacy to willfully damage something, and leaving one’s name on an object that will, within a relatively short period of time, either be refinished or discarded as junk, does not impart immortality.
As far as I’m concerned, graffiti is the human equivalent of dogs marking tires and fire hydrants. For animals, it is a useful act based on instinct. For people, it’s senseless, wasteful and demeaning. Besides the inappropriateness of this particular act, however, I was struck by something else with regard to the general human need to be noticed and remembered. Read the rest of this entry »
What’s “Self Esteem” Got to do with Probation?
I think our fixation on “self esteem” has affected the way probation officers approach the problem of crime and has even contributed to our lack of success.
The primary job of sworn peace officers, including probation, is to keep the community safe. Period. Assisting offenders is secondary to that mission. However, because we believe in treatment, we tend to think our primary objective is to transform and renew the nature of those on our caseloads. We assume that we must make offenders see themselves and their world differently before they can alter their antisocial conduct.
The truth is, in order to change how we feel, we must first change what we do, and the same applies to felons. Waiting until they “feel” different before we expect them to act differently usually doesn’t work. It’s too much like postponing a religious conversion until we feel worthy—it never comes about because it’s too difficult to accept grace when you feel so bad about yourself. Read the rest of this entry »
O Christmas Tree …
Christmas 1969 was probably my most memorable holiday, but it was definitely not the most enjoyable. Still, what began as a depressing experience was somehow transformed by a fairly insignificant symbol.
I was stationed at Camp Enari, near Pleiku, in the Central Highlands of Viet Nam, one of four Red Cross Donut Dollies whose mission was to provide mobile recreation within the Fourth Infantry Division. I can’t say our job was particularly easy, especially for me, because my personality has never been what one would call “bouncy.” I was more taciturn – less effervescent. So, no matter how much fun it might be in the end, I found it difficult to overcome my natural reserve and gather grown fighting men into groups, to play games.
Christmas was just another workday for us. As usual, we climbed aboard a helicopter and headed out to the forward units. The difference, that day, was that we all wore bright red dresses made for us in Hong Kong, and we hauled along a small pump organ for one of the girls to play. With her music, we hoped to urge the men to sing carols. Read the rest of this entry »






