I'm so tired of the Language of Therapy. I think part of my frustration with it stems from the way our therapists use it with the kids. They never seem to set any limits with the kid, they never say simple things like, "No. We're not going to talk about Doritos again. We're going to talk about your family." They just engage the kid in any lame-ass fantasy, whim or accusation to discover the different ways the kids' thought processes work, which is understandable, but they end up getting so caught up in the drama of it that they lend credence to the boys' twisted thoughts.

It happens all the time. A kid and therapist return from therapy and the therapist pulls me aside and says, "Can I confront you? During therapy Freddy made some pretty strong accusations against you and I just wanted to find out if it was true. He said..." and then will list one of these things:

'Staff is talking about his mama' or
'Staff is getting into bed with him in the middle of the night' or
'Staff is walking around naked in the middle of the night' or
'Staff lets him watch porno movies in the middle of the night' or
'Staff stole his allowance' or
'Staff won't let him eat' or
'Staff is beating him up when no one is looking' or
'Staff is drinking whiskey during the shift.'"

The therapists hate me because I won't even address the issue anymore. I always respond with the same answer, "I can't believe you're going to charge the county for 50 minutes of this shit."

I suppose, at the very least, the house therapy groups lend some structure to the conversation and teach the kids the basic language tools to express themselves. It works like this: All the residents and staff will sit on the couches which have been positioned in a circle. The house therapist, in this case Nancy, will begin with a prompt. Imagine a skinny, meek looking woman with huge glasses from the 70's and scraggly, multi-shades of grey long hair which hasn't been brushed all week. She's sitting on the edge of her chair, bent over her knees with her hands clutching her ankles. In a nasally, whiney voice she says, "I think now is a good time to honor ourselves with some put-ups. You know, instead of put-downs? Duane, can you start us off with a put-up for someone?"

Duane "Well I'm sick and tired of my roommate because I have to put up with his piss all over the toilet."

Nancy "Mmm, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh. So, how does that make you feel?"

Duane "Makes me feel like kicking his ass."

Nancy "Oh, mm-hmm, uh-huh, I see. I mean, what kinds of feelings do you get when you see pee-pee on the toilet?"

Duane "I feel inappropriate."

A chorus of 'Whoa-guy!' from the audience of children.

Nancy "Oh, mm-hmm, yeah. So what I hear you saying is you don't like to see pee-pee on the toilet because it makes you feel inappropriate. Mm-hmm, yeah, mm-hmm. Can you turn to Jim and tell him how it makes you feel when you see pee-pee on the toilet?"

Duane, feeling a surge of empowerment, embraces the opportunity to express his feelings to Jim, "Jim, if you piss on the toilet again, I'm gonna kick your ass. Say I won't."

Nancy "Um, well, okay. That's a start."

Jim raises his hand, "Scuse me? That wasn't a put-up."

Nancy "Mmm, yeah. You know something? I was thinking the same thing. And how does that make you feel?"

Jim "I feel like you should make Duane give me a put-up instead of kicking my ass."

Nancy "Yeah, okay, okay. But what emotion comes up for you when he threatens you?"

Jim "Unsafe."

Nancy "So what I hear you saying is that when Duane threatens you, you feel unsafe instead of safe. Good. Good. Good. Maybe you can turn to Duane and let him know how it makes you feel when he threatens you."

Jim "Duane, if you kick my ass, I'm gonna tell everyone that you took the encyclopedia in to the bathroom and jacked off to that Statue of David thing."

Chorus: "Whoa guy!"

And so it goes. Therapy groups often end in a fist-fight in which case the therapist will silently slip out while the house staff breaks it up, deals with containment, and tries to put the house back together.

The Language of Therapy isn't just limited to the kids' therapy groups. As staff, we have found ourselves relying on it during staff meetings to help us express our feelings toward our teammates, as well. It may start off with the staff gathering together on the couches and the therapist beginning with, "Can I make an observation? Would that be okay? I feel tense. I feel like there's some tension, you know, that icky tense feeling? I'm feeling like if there's something that needs to be put out there, then we should just go ahead and put it out there, you know? To talk about it so we can take care of our own selves, you know, to honor our own feelings. Because sometimes that's lost. Am I off base here?"

In a shaky voice, Rachel, a short, heavy young female staff member with enormous breasts begins. "Well, sometimes I think that the tone of the house is too male-dominated, like when Toby grabs the kids and yells at them, I don't think that's nurturing."

Toby is a big, muscular guy with a flat-top and looks like a Marine. He is clearly irritated. "These kids don't respond to nurturing. They need structure and discipline. That's the way my dad raised me. If I got out of line with him, he hit me, and maybe I didn't like it but hey, it worked. I'd never talk back to an adult the way these kids talk back to me. And they need to keep the house clean, too. And Rachel, you never clean up after yourself. You leave your shit everywhere and I always have to clean up after you."

Gus pipes up. "Oh yeah, that's Toby alright. Walks around with his latex gloves on all day sprucing up the place. 'Course, the kids are fucking each other, but the house smells nice and fresh."

Toby continues, "Hey, you'd walk around cleaning all day too if you had to work with Rachel. At the beginning of her shift, she just walks in, plops her tits on the kitchen counter and goes, 'Only 8 more hours to go, and I'm outta here.' Every time you say that, Rachel, it makes me want to rip your fucking throat out."

Rachel begins to cry.

Nancy interjects. "Mmm. You know, although I think it's important that we get our feelings out there, I think we should also honor ourselves by not making obscene threats to each other. We wouldn't want the kids to do it, right Toby?"

"Hey, you said talk about my feelings and I'm talking about my feelings. Tell you what. I was out on the back porch shooting hoops with that little shit Stevie when he started mouthing off to me. I told him to go to his room and he spit on me. What the hell am I supposed to do? I picked him up by his collar and shoved him against the wall. I said, 'Don't you ever fucking do that to a grown man' and I spit on him. And you know what? He hasn't mouthed off since."

I added, "Hey Toby, are you sure you want to be revealing your secrets of success so early on in your career?"

He says, "Hey, it's what my dad did to me and look, I turned out fine."

Nancy "Mmm, yeah, uh-huh."

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