"This shirt may not be clean, but I am!"

Bert: Hey there Baylor student.
Me: Hi, how are you? I love that shirt!
Bert's Shirt: "This shirt may not be clean, but I am!"
Bert: You know, we got a trophy for this shirt.
Me: A trophy for shirt design?
Bert: There was this volleyball tournament, our team was awful, but they gave us a trophy for our style. A little hispanic lady from the women and children's house played, she was tiny but ferocious. We named her MVP and gave her a trophy too. Another woman had to go in an ambulance when she broke her ankle. If we get a team together this year, I think we'd be pretty damn good.
Me: I'll play if I get a shirt.
Bert: [laughs] Sorry, no staff allowed.

Lake Waco at sunset... beauty in madness.

And another day in Waco draws to a close, as good a day as any and a bolster to the idea that someday I'll feel competent at delivering therapeutic services. I saw my first individual client today... a boisterous young woman with kind eyes that seem to tell the truth even when she won't or can't. She regaled me with a tale of persecution over an offense she'd been accused of over the weekend, "I'm so angry, I got in trouble and I didn't even do it!" The eyes gave it away and out of nowhere, "Okay, I did it. It's been eating at me all weekend. I haven't been able to eat or sleep. Why do I always lie?"

An important aspect of helping people is trusting that people actually know how to help themselves, or sometimes need only to have another person give them permission to help themselves. This has taken me a long time to realize, and even longer to begin to implement in my interactions with people. I had a choice: give her the answer, or give her the ability to choose. As much as I wanted to deliver the righteous message of honesty, I forced myself to take a "free will" approach.

"What kind of person do you want to be?"

Trustworthy, respectful, a leader.

"The decision is yours..."

Of course there was more to it than that, a careful mapping of the pros and cons of confession, a pros and cons of keeping the transgression secret. But ultimately, it was her choice to make. Choose to grow, or choose to run. When the door clicked shut and I was alone again I was absolutely convinced she'd keep the secret. Those eyes, still kind, rolled back as I insisted she take the pros and cons lists and "think it over." Nope, she's not ready.

Working in behavior change, and addictions in particular, counselors love to assume the role of the psychic. Turns out, we're usually incorrect. That's the difficulty in working with people... we only know what they share, but never truly share in what they know.

Group rolled around, a fairly lively exchange of ideas. What makes a person supportive? What does it feel like to ask for help? Does anyone need help right now? She raised her hand, then buried her face in it... "This is really, really hard for me."

Confession.
Feedback.
Growth.

A reminder that we're (most of us) motivated to make our lives better, even in the face of pain and embarrassment. A reminder that even when life has beaten a person down, there's usually a kernel of hope buried deep inside that, when given permission to "pop", can result in something delicious and unexpected.

People frustrate the hell out of me, but boy do I love 'em. Clean shirt or otherwise.