Mark and Jim. Those were curse words at Dogwood Center in September 1986. After a couple of days of on the job training from Mary, I was in charge. Whatever that means. Second shift. Dorm counselor for a group of emotionally disturbed children ages 6 to 12. That was the term used then. Was that politically correct? No clue. There was no such thing back then. Just reality.
Mary was leaving to take a job in the local school system. She was good at her job. She knew how to handle the problems that came up without missing a beat. Mary became a behavioral specialist in the school system. She got cancer. Beat it. Still doing her thing with emotionally disturbed children. A gift? You better believe it!
I am ready for this. Piece of cake! Got my psychology degree from the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga where the Director of psychology was Dr. Green. A direct descendent educationally from the teaching of B. F. Skinner, a genius in the field of behavioral psychology.
I’m working the evening shift. Conduct some afternoon activities, teach social skills, take the dears to supper or is it dinner? In the south, we always eat supper. But how can that be if Jesus had the last supper?
After supper, we take the kids outside to play four squares, tether ball, maybe some hoops, or some flag football. Then it’s time for showers and a snack. The kids live in dorms at the facility from four weeks to six months, depending on the severity of their condition. After showers, they get to watch a little TV, then it’s bedtime.
Bedtime is determined by how many points they have earned during the day. A token economy system is employed from the time they get up til the time they go to bed.
Token economy. Behavior management. Little 6 to 12-year-olds snots. Piece of cake! Just what Dr. Green’s psychology department prepared me to do. After all, my 495 individual studies project was to manipulate the behavior of a lab rat. Fixed schedule of reinforcement, interval schedule of reinforcement. First reward the rat with a food pellet every time he looks at the food tray lever. The pellets were very tasty. Well, that’s what Dr. Ralph said the day I got a new shipment of rat food. I walk into the psychology department office. Dr. Ralph is standing there. I looked at the secretary and ask about my food pellets. Ralph picks up the box, opens it, takes out a few of the pellets and pops them into his mouth. Needless to say, my mouth, as well as that of the secretary’s, was wide open. Not bad! About like a pretzel. That rat will love these. Dr. Ralph closes the box and hands it to me.
Put a little cheese on the lever that drops down a Dr. Ralph rat food pallet. Rat. That’s what I named my lab rat. Inventive right? Rat touches the lever with his right paw to get the cheese off the lever. Darn it. He’s right handed. If he was a lefty, a southpaw, man I could teach him to be a heck of a pitcher. Hurl those pellets and hit Dr. Ralph in the side of the head! A pellet drops down. I began to give him a pellet every minute. Rat would beat the daylights out of the lever the whole minute until the pellet dropped. Rather quickly learned to patiently wait and, almost on cue, would tap the lever after a minute past. Then it became five minutes. Get the picture? Teach a lab rat with out any means of verbal or sign language to tap a lever when I wanted him to. I was in charge, all the while, Rat thought he was in charge.
OK. My first day of being in charge has gone great. Afternoon evaluation, tell the kids how many tokens they have earned so far today, conduct positives. That’s when each kid has to say something nice about another member of the group. Took them to supper. Now we are outside for a little free time before showers. This is a piece of cake!
Hey! What was your name again? Jim asked me.
Me: I’m Dee.
Jim: Well Dee. Will you take me inside to use the bathroom and get a drink?
Me: Polite kid. Sure Jim. Come on.
Jim takes a leak. Comes down the hall to the water fountain. And just like the snap, crackle and pop of rice krispies, Jim rams his fist into the side of the water fountain.
Jim: I’m gonna kick his ass! I’m going to kill him!
Holy cow cookies Batman! What do I do?
Think! Dee. Think. Got to control Jim. Take charge.
Jim had a brother, Mark, who was also at Dogwood. He was older and said to be even crazier. They were bad boys. Snap faster than a frozen branch in a snowstorm.
Wait a minute! Jim isn’t supposed to snap like that. Behavioral psychology. Where is the sign, the anecdote? The environmental stimulus that elicited this response. How the heck do I know? I wasn’t watching Jim outside. He’s not in a cage waiting for me to give him his rat pellet. Schedule of reinforcement. Shaping Behavior.
Oh crap! He hits the fountain again.
Jim: He’s dead meat!
Think Dee. What are you going to do? Genius. I got it. I ran outside.
Me: Hey Jay! Jim is going nuts in here. Beating the water fountain.
J is a big boy for his age, as Andy Griffith would say. He’s about 5’11” 250 pounds. Been working at Dogwood Center a couple years now.
Jay: OK Dee. I’m coming.
Jay runs into the dorm.
Jay: Hey! What the heck you think you’re doing Jim? Your butts going to the quiet room. That was a padded room where kids could go to safely keep from further injuring themselves.
Jim bucks up to Jay as if he was going to fight him. Next thing I know, quicker than Dusty Rhodes dropping the atomic elbow, Jay has Jim in the basket hold, hauling him down to the quiet room.
Jay comes up the hall to the front of the dormitory.
Jay: Don’t worry about it Dee. He acts like this every day. Never know when he’s going to crack. Let’s go shoot some hoops with the kids.
Me: OK Jay.
I really wanted to say, “Hey Jay. You got another pair of underwear with you I can borrow?Mine is full.
Piece of cake! From what kind of cake? A fruit cake?
What the heck have I done?
Welcome to the world of mental health.
coachdeesays 