by North Shore Child & Family Guidance Center | May 20, 2012 | Anton Media
I am gradually losing step with the pop culture juggernaut. By the way, juggernaut refers to a relentless force, movement or object that trounces whatever is in its path. The term originated from the Unstoppable Juggernaut, a fictional character who first appeared in Marvel Comics’ X-Men. I share this only to establish that I do have some pop culture street-cred. Nevertheless, I thought Hunger Games was an eating competition until I discovered that it was a post-apocalyptic science fiction novel written by Suzanne Collins. The book features 16-year-old Katniss Everdeen who volunteers to take her younger sister Prim’s place, after Prim is chosen by lottery to participate in a government-mandated, nationallybroadcast, fight-to-the-death battle among 24 teens and pre-teen “tributes” living in 12 districts of the nation of Panem. The goal of the games is to be the last one standing. I read Hunger Games with a dual consciousness. I was absorbed in the fabulous and chilling story and I was tuned in to the story as a metaphor. The last-man-standing theme reminded me of the struggle for survival that community-based mental health agencies in Nassau County face. I have addressed this extensively in my published commentary and testimony before legislative bodies for years. For instance, in a 2009 piece that appeared in the Albany Times Union I wrote, “More low- and middle-income families than ever are in need of low-cost, high-quality community-based mental health care. Yet, the state Office of Mental Health, along with the state Health Department, is aggressively pursuing a “reform” plan that will assure continued access to care only to children and families with Medicaid fee-for-service insurance coverage. This will leave a significant number of children and adults in the lurch.” Just to show that I wasn’t “blowing smoke,” if you fast-forward to 2012 you will find that there are community-based outpatient mental health providers in our backyard that closed their doors, were taken over by larger corporate entities with no community roots, transformed their operations into per diem factories with little capacity for dealing with complex or crisis situations or restricted their clientele to a residual population of Medicaid-insurance carriers. Others are working diligently to preserve the integrity, character and culture of nonrestrictive, universal community-based care. When our children, and their families, face the worst of times they need a place to go that is easily accessible and available to respond to emergencies, offers a continuum of care and feels like home and not like a factory. For many community-based mental health centers, from a family’s first contact to their last, the work requires collaboration, most of which is not fee-producing, with a variety of service providers. Hours are spent with school personnel, hospital-discharge staff, 2 probation officers, preventive workers, case managers, family advocates and childprotective service workers, to name a few. The children at highest risk need a continuum of outpatient-based triage and emergency services that allow for seamless, timely and successful discharges from hospital to community. Experience has shown that hospitals will often not discharge children to private practitioners. Families, particularly those with children who have serious emotional disturbances or are in psychiatric crisis, require more assistance than can be provided by private practitioners. To continue to provide these vital services and keep children from needing higher and costlier levels of care, many local agencies have been making every effort to streamline service delivery while maintaining the best standards of care. Although it is an uphill battle, it is a fight that we must continue and, hopefully, with a different outcome than the Hunger Games; one where we all remain standing and the character and culture of true community-based mental health centers remains strong.
by North Shore Child & Family Guidance Center | Apr 20, 2012 | Anton Media
Like many film-goers I have my list of favorites. Some are hilarious (Airplane), some are gripping (Wages of Fear), some are masterpieces (Godfather) and some are timeless classics (Wizard of Oz). And, then there are those that are so haunting that I cannot seem to shake loose of them. The darkly disturbing 2009 Austrian-German film, The White Ribbon, is one of the more haunting ones. Filmed beautifully in black and white with subtitles, The White Ribbon portrays the residents of a northern German village, dominated by a baron, sometime before World War I. Inhabitants of this village appear to be sliding down a slippery slope of moral depravity. Men in positions of power – a doctor and a clergyman, for example – routinely mistreat women and children. Among the most brutal scenes is one where the town’s widowed physician verbally degrades a kind woman who had faithfully served as his caretaker and mistress. Although it is only suggested, a number of the older children appear to have perpetrated despicable acts. Crops are destroyed, animals are killed, adults are injured and children are abused, including a child with Down’s syndrome. We bring our own meanings to films and modify our interpretations as time passes. After I thought about The White Ribbon for awhile, I came to the conclusion that it contained a strong message about the devastating consequences that a culture of bullying can bring about. Sometime after viewing the film, I thought more deeply about the children living in that German village. I realized that they would soon become young adults during the rise of Hitler. These children lived in an incubator in which the cruelty that they experienced, they perpetrated against unsuspecting and helpless victims. Their circumstances were such that they appeared to have been unwittingly primed to perpetrate the atrocities that would come to characterize the Third Reich. In his 2009 commentary on the White Ribbon, for the San Francisco Chronicle, filmreviewer Mike Lasalle noted that the idea of the film was “that the parenting and education German children received in the early years of the 20th century made them morally susceptible to Nazism…No child is trained to become a martinet, and no one says anything about a master race. Rather, the kids, from their elders, get quiet lessons in moral absolutism, sternness, emotional violence and heartlessness.” Seeing this film led me to wonder about the early years of the 21st century when bullying has become such a prominent thread in the fabric of our culture. And the Internet and all of its gadgets have become the tools with which people of all ages systematically degrade others. But tools are tools. A hammer can be used to build a house or to crush someone’s skull. The Internet and modern technology are not inherently evil, but are tools that can be utilized for evil ends. Although I do not know the answers to some of the questions that The White Ribbon has posed to me; the film, coupled with an acute awareness of the times we live in, brought these disturbing questions to mind: Have our children become susceptible to something ominous that we cannot yet fathom?, If so, what is driving them? And, what are the times we are living in a prequel for?
by North Shore Child & Family Guidance Center | Mar 20, 2012 | Anton Media
The “Occupy Movement” has been greeted with mixed sentiment ranging from admiration to revulsion. On the plus side, the movement shows young people that folks of any age can come together around their own vision of the world they want. However, one does not have to attain revolutionary goals to work toward social change, as I learned some years ago when I was working with a group of troubled boys. At the time, I was involved in developing an innovative school-based mental health program. I was filling in at the school, for a few weeks, for one of the social workers who had taken a leave. I agreed to work with her boys’ group. The boys in the group – teenagers, all had significant emotional difficulties, ranging from depression to explosive behavior. In my first meeting with the boys, the discussion took an interesting turn. They complained that there were no doors on the boys’ bathroom stalls and that there was yellow soap in the dispensers. It was a bit of a detour, but I encouraged them to say more about their objections. As I recall, Keith was the first to speak out: “Do you think they have any idea how humiliating it is to go to the bathroom with no doors on the stalls? There’s no privacy; it’s embarrassing. It’s like they don’t trust us; they’re treating us like little boys.” Sam added, “It’s disrespectful, that’s what it is – it’s disrespectful.” And then Kurt, getting back to basics, pointed out, “Man, it’s a lot of pressure when you gotta go badly and you know you can’t.” Benji added “It says ‘Boys’ Room’ on the bathroom door! We’re men! Dammit! What kind of crap is this anyway!” A little later, another group member, Rob, asked the others if it was true that kids peed into the soap dispenser. Jay said that he saw someone do it but no one could really tell until it was too late because the soap was yellow. To which one of the group members declared, “We have to get them to put pink soap in the dispensers! Then we’ll know if anyone pees in there. Then we’ll know.” 2 Being heard and really listened to was a rare experience for the dozen boys who comprised the group. They knew about what being misunderstood, rejected and isolated was all about; but not in this group where they felt connected to one another. They were angry and united – outraged. In time their social worker rejoined the group. I filled her in about the boys’ quest for improved bathroom conditions. She then guided them to develop a list of bathroom improvements that would be presented to the principal. She led them through an exercise in which they rehearsed presenting their grievances. Then she urged them to request a meeting with the principal to present their case. Many weeks later, I came to the high school after the dismissal hour and headed down a long vacant hallway to attend an administrative meeting. I pushed open the “Boys’ Room” door and was pleasantly surprised to find pink soap in the dispensers and doors on the stalls. This story affirms that, working towards change does not require revolutionary goals. Supporting young people in taking action against social injustices – big and small – is a great way to help them to think critically, take a stand and prepare to become active citizens in community affairs.
