Insight and Inspiration

On Being Homeless

2011-07-31T09:02:00.000-07:00

Being homeless is hard to imagine for those of us who have always enjoyed a roof over our heads, a comfortable bed to sleep in, hot and cold running water on demand, plenty of food in the refrigerator, a car in the garage, and a supermarket within easy driving distance. In recent weeks, I have made it my business to visit a few homeless shelters where hundreds of men and women wander in and out on a daily basis here in Asheville, North Carolina. I have special admiration for the professionals and volunteers who operate these shelters and do what they can to provide food, clothing, a warm shower, guidance, and encouragement to a veritable army of rootless people of all ages and backgrounds.

Once long ago I participated in an Urban Outward Bound course in Atlanta, Georgia, where we were working to establish ongoing programs for inner city youth. (In that endeavor we were successful and Atlanta Outward Bound thrives today.) This course was designed by our Atlanta Outward Bound staff members so that instructors from the North Carolina Outward Bound mountain base camps could get a taste of urban realities and the formidable challenges of surviving in the urban jungle. As director of the School, I jumped in with both feet to be in a small group of veteran OB backpackers, paddlers, and rock jocks -- under the supervision of street-savvy Atlanta instructors who accompanied us through four days and nights of homelessness in downtown Atlanta. It was a memorable experience.

The ground rules were straightforward and clear: (1) Stick together at all times. (2) Remain within the defined boundaries of Downtown Atlanta. (3) Be safe, creative, and respectful of all whom you meet. We were given $5.00 as "group money" for the four days.

We survived those four days and four nights wandering the streets of Downtown Atlanta in early September. We slept in public parks and on side streets and sometimes huddled up around small fires with other homeless vagabonds. We heard their stories and shared bites of food with each other. At times we argued and nearly split apart as a group over petty decisions. We shivered a bit in the cool air at night (no tents). Just after midnight one evening we visited the emergency room at Grady Hospital where people in agony (drug overdose, knife wounds, broken bones, moaning victims of human cruelty and violence) waited in long lines of wheel chairs and stretchers for treatment. Dante's Inferno.

On the third night, I started panhandling in front of the movie theaters right on Peachtree Street. With
scrubby beard and dirty clothes, I presented my paper cup in front of well-dressed men and women and asked simply: "Could you help a man buy a sandwich?" "Honey, give the man some money," wives would say to their husbands. Most gave me a quick brush-off. I touched enough hearts to raise about $20 in nickels, quarters, and dollar bills rather quickly -- enough to feed my entire group hamburgers and coffee at midnight in Downtown Atlanta -- ah, what a treat! We also had some success that night asking street markets if they could spare any apples, grapes, or bananas that were not likely to remain on the shelf the next day.

We kept up our morale rather well, everything considered. We made all decisions by consensus as our instructors stood by observing. The last night we circled up about 2 am in a slow drizzling rain -- all of us dog tired, irritable, half awake, emotionally drained, and chastened by our experiences -- to deal with whether or not to "give up" and ask the instructors to abort the exercise and take us home for a hot shower and warm bed. "We've learned enough, it's silly to go on," one would say. "But this is why we came in the first place, isn't it -- to stick it out, know by experience what homelessness feels like just for four days and nights?" Locked into our decision-making norm, we debated all night long in the effort to reach consensus. Our fanatical commitment to "group process" seemed to our savvy urban mentors a form of Outward Bound craziness. We argued, listened, debated, argued more, processed, and tangled all night until finally we resorted to the ultimate OB sin - we voted! The vote was 6 to 5 in favor of toughing it out and seeing things all the way through, completing the last night of the exercise.

We broke the circle and began to wander around in an altered state from standing up all night in intense debate. As we began to survey our surroundings and our situation, some looked up and noticed that night was already over, dawn was breaking, and the new day (our last in the urban jungle) had arrived! As we became aware that we had processed all night long when we might have simply crashed in a homeless shelter, we broke out laughing hebephrenically at our own craziness. Our urban instructor/ mentors just shook their heads at us saying: "You mountain Outward Bound types -- y'all are crazy for sure. You stood out here all night in the rain when you could have been asleep in a warm bed. You guys better go back to the mountains!"

Homeless people are not merely going through an exercise. Our experience in Atlanta as adventurous idealists may have been a noble effort to put ourselves in the shoes of others in order to awaken empathy and understanding. Experiential exercises whether in urban or wilderness environments can be powerful, creative, and lasting. The ethical question, however, is whether you bring back energy and commitment and become substantially engaged in ways that make a real difference for those who are truly without homes and hope. Volunteers with Habitat for Humanity make a real difference as do professionals and volunteers at places like Homeward Bound in my hometown of Asheville, North Carolina. These folks deserve our gratitude and respect. They have found an avenue into authentic engagement in addressing one of America's most intractable problems. There is plenty of room for more of us to follow their example.

Denver Bailey on "the wisdom of the earth and goodness of the soul"

2011-06-26T17:56:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends:

In recent days I've had lots of conversations with my friend, Denver Bailey, who has been wandering the land without a permanent home since he was 15. A few months ago he landed in Asheville, plays his banjo on the downtown square from time to time, takes landscaping and handyman jobs where he can find them. These days he is in high demand as many of my friends are calling on him for yard work, pruning, mulching, gardening, rock work, clean-up jobs, and runs to the landfill. He is saving up his money to buy a truck so he can launch a real business and get a roof over his head.

Denver is now 26 -- thoughtful, articulate, and full of wisdom. He believes the struggle to survive itself has given him strength and understanding. Today he told me: "The only way to know your strength is to struggle, brother man. Last ten years of my life taught me to appreciate every day, take nothing for granted. It makes a man humble -- and very respectful of the food and water going into his body."

No trace of bitterness in this man, none.

"I've known kindness, sir," he continues, "I've been fed and sheltered and taken in out of the rain more times than I can remember."

I ask him how he came by his values and attitudes. He says: "A man ain't worth nothing but his name brother man.  If a man has good morals, good values, he puts out good vibes to the universe, and he will be provided for. We can’t take anything with us when we go. What we have left in this life is for the next generation. You can quote the Bible, you can look under a rock. It all breaks down to this: we were given to this earth to take care of it."

"You're a deep thinker."

"I am not just one person, sir. I am the collective. If it weren’t for the fellows before us, there would be no us. We would have no knowledge. We would not have the understanding we have. Everything we have today we have those in the past to thank for.   We have to pass on that knowledge and the wisdom of the earth and the goodness of the soul to help the young to grow up strong and wise instead of weak and foolish.

"Are you optimistic about where we're headed?"

Fact is, brother man, we are living in a cess pool of filth of our own making. Every day we burn more oil, we are taking food out of our mouths. The earth will cleanse itself, will wash itself clean someday.  Not in my day, but it will happen. History repeats itself. The mistakes we’ve made, we are doomed to repeat them. That’s understood."

"Denver, I can't decide whether you're an Old Testament Prophet, a wandering minstrel, or Buddha re-incarnated."

"All I can tell you," he says, "is that when a man has nothing, he realizes what his needs are.   Simplicity – food, shelter, ability to warm himself, that’s all he needs. If a man has never really had comfort, then a rock is comfortable for a pillow. I can remember times walking in the woods as the sun peaks through the clouds rolling over and running my fingers through the tall grass, and I remember washing my face in the morning dew."

"You're a poet, Denver."

After a long pause, I ask Denver if he minds being interviewed like this. "Don't mind at all, sir. If you get famous by interviewing me -- just give me a cut. And if I get famous -- I’ll give you a cut!"

At that we both break down laughing. "Sounds like a deal to me, brother man," I say. And we shake on it.

Outward Bound at the Organizational Crossroads

2011-06-22T05:49:00.000-07:00

Having spent much of my life within the Outward Bound movement, I am paying attention now as the national Outward Bound organization goes through a comprehensive re-evaluation of its structure and mission.

About ten years ago, the national Outward Bound president, John Read, spearheaded the move to consolidate all the Outward Bound Schools into one management system. The rationale was to achieve economies of scale, efficiency and consistency, unified marketing and fundraising, and a top-down leadership structure. This required collapsing the Boards of most of the previously semi-autonomous Schools (Hurricane Island Outward Bound in Maine, Voyageur Outward Bound in Minnesota, Colorado Outward Bound School based in Denver, and Pacific Crest Outward Bound based in Oregon.) In short, the goal was to run National Outward Bound like a corporation. Call it streamlining. Call it corporatizing. Call it what you will.

The Schools which elected to continue to operate outside of this Consolidated System were the North Carolina Outward Bound School, Thompson Island Outward Bound School (Boston), and the New York City Outward Bound Center.

Today a new national Outward Bound President finds himself facing the question whether to jettison the Consolidated System and go back to re-structure the system around "regional delivery units" with names like Outward Bound Northeast, Outward Bound Midwest, Outward Bound West, and Outward Bound South. Information reaching me from various Outward Bound friends suggests that the Consolidated System of the past decade is now widely perceived as an abysmal failure: declining enrollments, declining financial strength, base camp closings, and loss of momentum across the board. As former executive director of the North Carolina Outward Bound School and one who cares deeply about the role of Outward Bound in our culture, I am not a neutral observer. I made my bias against the Consolidation Strategy well known in a memo I wrote to the NCOBS Board in October of 2002. I wrote then and I believe now:

"Consolidation in theory always looks attractive because it promises to equalize services, rationalize procedures, and effect savings. The reality proves to have unintended consequences."

"Despite the lure of bigness, the countervailing principle -- 'Small is beautiful' -- is screaming for attention, has merit. It makes sense to locate authority on the turf where the service takes place."

"Real teamwork can only exist at the place where the services are delivered. The teamwork at the national level can only be a kind of virtual teamwork -- because there are no clients, no ropes courses, no instructors. Administrators removed from the action make for pseudo-teams."

"How are you going to attract strong, capable people to engage meaningfully with and give generously to the schools if they have little or no authority?"

The North Carolina Outward Bound School elected to keep its charter to operate semi-autonomously -- largely outside the framework of the consolidated system. Today at NCOBS staff morale is very high, enrollment trends are positive, the endowment is growing, and fundraising is strong. I sense that in these perilous times the "NCOBS Model" is in some ways the envy of the system - along with Thompson Island and the New York Outward Bound Center. To the degree this is true, I believe it has to do primarily with the fact that NCOBS board members and staff have a deep feeling of pride in and loyalty towards the School. It belongs to them. They own what happens to it and are deeply, personally committed to its spirit, mission, history, and viability. They feel connected to each other as a community. They will sacrifice for the School, go the extra mile, pursue impossible dreams. Local control, local pride, control over one's own destiny. NCOBS is a community not a corporation.

NCOBS has emerged as the lighthouse for the system. All the sophisticated corporate theories in the world cannot buy what NCOBS has achieved through the love, blood, sweat and tears of deeply loyal board and staff members pulling together through good and bad times to keep the ship floating high in the water. It is a beautiful thing to see. The fact that NCOBS has a former field instructor now serving with great effectiveness as Chairperson of the Board speaks volumes about the family spirit and ethos of the the North Carolina Outward Bound School.

Outward Bound must be run in a thoroughly business-like manner but it is not a for-profit business and it is not a manufacturing process. Outward Bound is a "people-making endeavor" and has more in common with philosophers, poets, and artists than with accountants, manufacturers and assembly line engineers. The most fruitful way to manage Outward Bound as an organization is to stay passionately mission-focused and to draw on the intelligence, good will, and generous spirit of caring trustees and friends to insure financial health, strong scholarship support for deserving youth, and solid financial planning and tracking. And this is what has been going on at NCOBS for a very long time, so it seems to me. One spirited, successful OB School is demonstrating that consolidation of the Outward Bound Schools made sense only in the abstract. It hasn't worked. Now the pendulum must swing back to embrace this wisdom: "Regionalism - thinking and acting based on those factors which connect us economically, ecologically, and geographically - is the future of this country." Corporatizing of Outward Bound has to be dismantled.

Outward Bound has to do whatever it takes now to put the spiritual air back in the tires of the national system. Achieving this is the path to financial viability. Some understand this, some don't. No spirit, no financial viability. Outward Bound is not a supermarket chain. It is an idealistic, mission-driven, value-based movement, and that is what has drawn so many wonderful people to it all over the world. They are the ones who will sustain it.

There are lessons to be learned from Outward Bound's organizational issues -- lessons which therapeutic boarding schools and residential treatment centers nation-wide should be heeding as the trend towards consolidation continues at a steady pace.

"I'd rather work than beg!"

2011-06-08T04:20:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends:

After purchasing a dis-assembled storage shed and having it loaded into my van, I began to worry about how I would handle getting the 250 pound over-sized box unloaded when I got home. As I approached an intersection and slowed for the red light, I spotted a very tall, thin young man on the sidewalk holding a sign up for all to read: "I'd rather work than beg." He reminded me of Ichibod Crane. Taking notice of his honest face and confident manner, I acted on impulse, honked and waved at him. I pulled into an open parking area at a service station, and he came running up with his hand held out and said: "I'm ready to work, brother. I'd rather work than beg, and I am a very hard worker." We shook hands and I told him to "hop in."

One week later Denver is still working for and with me, and I have found a new friend. He has a ferocious work ethic, a great spirit, and a marvelous sense of humor. We worked and sweated together side by side to assemble the shed - laughing and talking all the way. The next day he mulched the entire yard around my house, cleaned out brush, re-organized my garden, moved heavy stones from place to place, laid a stone walkway, trimmed shrubbery, and more. He's been back every day now for about five days.

Denver is about 26 years old, very strong, and has a work ethic like you rarely see these days. He goes at any job I give him with relish. My neighbors on each side have already taken notice and asked Denver if he will work for them after he finishes with me. I find myself hoping I can launch this young man in the landscaping business - starting right here in this neighborhood.

Denver tells stories of his childhood growing up in a coal-mining town in eastern Kentucky. He is amazingly articulate and succinct in his story-telling, and he peppers every other sentence with folk wisdom and sayings that knock me on the side of the head. "Denver, where did you get all that wisdom," I ask. "Well, brother man," he responds, "I been on my own a long time, had no choice about that, and I learn something from everywhere I go. I walked across this country twice, sure did, and I tell you a man learns a lot when he gets off the main highways and makes his way across this country." I believe him.

This morning I made him a big breakfast with eggs, ham, grits, biscuits, orange juice and coffee and we sat together eating and chatting under the big oak tree in my back yard.

"How you feeling today, Denver?" I asked.

"Been better, been worse, but still smiling," he replied.

"Are you in good health all the time?"

"Well, I got some hurtin' in the back, but I don't slow down. Weakness is just pain leaving the body!"

We kept chewing and savoring our eggs and grits for a minute before I said: "Denver, you are quite a guy and you have an amazing work ethic. I think word will spread fast and you'll find a lot of yard and
handyman work around these parts."

He responded immediately: "A man is only worth his name, brother man. I can walk in any store in Hazard, Kentucky, where I grew up, and I'd be related to somebody. And there'd be somebody in there would say something bad about the Baileys -- all of 'em in my family were bootleggers and outlaws. I didn't choose my bloodline but I do carry the clan name with me, that's a fact. Those folks - my Papaw, Granny, Mama, and Daddy -- I just left all of 'em behind and hit the road when I was 15. They'll be fighting amongst themselves the rest of their days, I reckon -- like the Hatfields and the McCoys. I don't want no more of all that, so I hit the road."

Musing on this outburst of authentic disclosure, I finally muttered: "Well, all I know is you are one helluva good worker and you can figure out how to do almost anything."

"I do what it takes. I'll sing for my supper and click my heels for a nickel, but I won't beg. I like to stay busy doing things. My daddy was a carpenter, Mama was a cake decorator. Guess that's how I got my artistic flare. Got my daddy's good looks and Mama's wit, I guess. Past few days I been working on making a simple banjo out of a turtle shell, like to show it to you when I finish, might even sing something for you."

I say: "Denver, did you ever think about joining the military?"

"Got to be honest with you, brother man, I did think about it but decided I got a soul but I'm not a soldier. If I ever got called, I'd go, but I'm not voluntarily putting myself out on the battlefield for no reason."

I find myself very grateful Denver and I crossed paths. I admire his attitude and work ethic, and genuinely respect the way he is making his way in the world. He is full of humor and wisdom, and I will have more to share about this indefatigable free spirit with a big heart and a remarkable outlook on life. Meanwhile, I hope he keeps calling me "brother man". That's a label I want to live up to!

Financial Realities

2011-06-02T11:23:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends:

The sad reality is that only a small percentage of families who need therapeutic intervention for their children can afford the private pay, parent choice programs and schools that are now spread across the landscape. It definitely calls for sacrifice and stamina and some way to make it work out financially over the long haul.

I advocate for my clients with programs and schools I recommend. Wilderness programs usually ask for little background information while therapeutic boarding schools usually require tax returns with an application for financial assistance/tuition reduction. Some will flex and accomodate by offering helpful terms; others are rigid.

Some parents use home equity, educational loans, and/or college savings accounts. Some are fortunate enough to have grandparents who can help. The important thing is not to give up.

Whatever the method for financing a therapeutic intervention, parents are investing in the future of their child. They are seeking a way to give their child the best possible chance to work through emotional issues and to make gains in personal growth that lead to maturity in young adulthood. The return on investment is often a clear-headed and much healthier young person with positive values and attitudes, ability to self-direct and pursue worthy goals, and genuine respect for self and others.

These are easy things for me to write. I fully understand that the financial challenges are daunting. Having been through this experience as a father, I have considerable empathy for my clients and am always ready to help find solutions -- no matter how difficult the challenges.

Kind regards, encouragement, and onwards!

John C. Huie, Ph. D.
Educational Consultant
Professional Member, Independent Educational Consultants Association
Therapeutic Residential/Wilderness and Boarding School Placements
Guiding Families To Settings Where Children Can Thrive

1333 Merrimon Avenue
Asheville, NC 28804
828 252 8062 – Asheville Office
828 989 9100 – Charlotte Office
828 225 1702 - FAX
www.johnhuie.com

Insight and Inspiration

2011-06-01T13:08:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends:

I want to share some thoughts and suggestions you may find helpful.

Many of you have used my services in past months and years; many of you are using my services actively right now; and others of you have been in dialogue with me in the past. Wherever you are on the journey with your son or daughter (pre-teen, teen, young adult), I am sending encouragement and best wishes.

MY PATH TO EDUCATIONAL CONSULTING

As most of you know, I have been on the healing journey with my own son who benefited greatly from several therapeutic programs, starting when he was 16 years old (he is now 26). Going on that journey with him drew me deeply into the world of therapeutic schools, wilderness programs, emotional growth schools, therapeutic boarding schools, and more. As a result, I dove into the profession of Independent Educational Consulting and have enjoyed many years now of working closely with families striving to find hopeful solutions for their pre-teen, teen, and young adult children. I am grateful for the confidence and trust so many of you have placed in me. The rewards of doing this work are beyond measure, and I have a shoebox full of feedback notes that keep me going. My gratitude to you all. It would be great to hear "the rest of the story" from many of you who have not been in touch for a while.

THE "IMMATURITY HYPOTHESIS"

There are many books out there offering insight and guidance to parents with struggling children with all those entrenched diagnostic labels: bi-polar, depression, ODD, ADHD, Conduct Disorder, Asperger's, substance addiction, computer addiction, etc. John McKinnon, M.D., advocates less focus on diagnostic labels and more on "disrupted maturation and resulting immaturity." John has authored a book which I strongly recommend to you all: "An Unchanged Mind: the Problem of Immaturity in Adolescence" (ISBN- 13:978-1-5906-124-9, Lantern Books, NY). A practicing psychiatrist in Montana for many years, John takes the position that a whole new approach is needed, a "developmental, holistic, constructive culture approach" designed to move struggling teenagers....

FROM TO

Gross narcissism Consideration for others

Lack of true empathy Accurate true empathy

"Puppet" relationships Separate relationships

Magical thinking Goals, follow-through

Selfish, concrete morals Abstract, social ethics

Dr. McKinnon writes: ""In general young people rarely recognize that they have changed or that they have grown up. Sometimes it upsets them, and they feel less a part of the crowd, and a bit lonely. Not until an adult recognizes this shift in attitude, and marks it as a legitimate source of pride, will they see it in themselves. Often young people assume instead that others have changed, that others have begun to behave in a peculiar, offensive way. A teenager can be as oblivious to his own maturation as Mark Twain recalls that he was, himself: 'When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years.'"

He continues: "Because teenagers usually do not notice changes in themselves, parental recognition makes an important contribution. For an adult to acknowledge a boy's new maturity strongly sustains that new maturity. To help a girl make sense of puzzling new feelings, or to register that she is becoming a fine woman, turns out to be profoundly encouraging."

Get John McKinnon's book and see what you think!

WORTH NOTING

The Kaiser Foundation, in its January 2010 report on the use of electronic entertainment media by U. S. students, aged 8-18, found that, on average, these young people are spending more than seven hours a day (53 hours a week) with such (digital) amusements.

One therapeutic program reports: "Thirty years ago, the average client began using drugs at ages 14 to 16. Now they are often 10 to 13 years old when they begin. A significant phenomenon with marijuana use is that emotional and social development stops with frequent use. Important emotional and social milestones are distorted and developmental stages are missed. We now have 16-year olds who are 11 years old on an emotional level."

OTHER READING RECOMMENDATIONS

"What Now: How Teen Therapeutic Programs Could Save Your Child" by Dr. Paul Case; ISBN-13: 978-1-93431-430-2 Common Thread Media, Franklin, TN

"Brain Rules: 12 Principles for Surviving and Thriving at Work, Home, and School" by John Medina; ISBN-10: 9797777-4-7 Pear Press, Seattle, WA

FROM THE SHOEBOX

"My seventeen-year-old son was in deep trouble and headed for more trouble. Suffering from impulsivity, depression and a low self-concept, struggling in school, and succumbing to drug use, he was extremely angry and dissatisfied with his life. His erratic and sometimes violent anger presented our family with a major crisis. John Huie was there for us. I deeply appreciate his thorough understanding of adolescent psychology and family dynamics. He knows the therapeutic landscape, and his guidance helped my young son reclaim his chance for a bright future. I am forever grateful." - Kay Gregory, Hickory, NC (shared with permission).

LET ME HEAR FROM YOU!

I welcome ongoing dialogue with you. Meanwhile, I am sending encouragement to each and all.....

Kind regards,

John C. Huie, Ph. D.

Educational Consultant

Professional Member, Independent Educational Consultants Association

Therapeutic Residential/Wilderness and Boarding School Placements

Guiding Families To Settings Where Children Can Thrive

1333 Merrimon Avenue

Asheville, NC 28804

828 252 8062 – Asheville Office

828 989 9100 – Charlotte Office

828 225 1702 - FAX

www.johnhuie.com