Therapeutic Characteristics
Problems Addressed
■ Being put down
■ Not feeling valued
■ Doubting yourself
■ Being scared
■ Engaging in avoidance behaviors Resources Developed
■ Learning from the beginning
■ Learning that practice enhances skills
■ Learning to enjoy what you do
■ Thinking through what others say about you Outcomes Offered
■ Thoughtfulness
■ The benefits of practice
■ Enjoyment of learning
■ Positive self-evaluation
There was a familiar saying that the family had about Joe when he was young. In fact, it even persisted when he got older. From what they said you might think they meant something different but, over a long time, Joe had come to know what they meant.
His mother and father said it first, then his sister picked it up, and now even uncles, aunts, and cousins were saying it. . . . And mostly they laughed when they did, leaving Joe to feel even worse.
He grew to dread it but knew it wouldn’t be long before someone said it yet again.
What they said was, “Let Joe do it.” Now, an outsider may have thought they were giving Joe a compliment, suggesting that he was competent and capable of doing things, that the family could trust Joe to do it. In fact, it meant just the opposite. If Joe was to turn on a tap, the water was likely to come out in a great rush, splashing all over him or the floor and making a mess in his mother’s kitchen. Seeing it, the first thing she would say is, “Oh no, let Joe do it.” If he was drying the dishes and dropped one, it was always a piece of her best crockery. “Let Joe do it,” she’d say. Reaching out to pick up a glass, his movement was likely to be too quick or too awkward no matter how hard he tried to get it just right, and even as it fell to the floor, smashing glass and spilling his drink, he could hear the words, “Let Joe do it.”
Of course, there were other sayings, too. Whenever they went on summer vacation it was al-most a daily routine for the family to play softball on the beach. If he was fielding, there might be a nice gentle hit of the ball off the bat, arching high in the air, falling softly toward him with Joe in the perfect position to make a catch. Somebody would call out, “Watch it, Joe will drop it,” and sure
enough, he did. If he was batting and he had a dead-easy shot pitched to him, all that was needed was for someone to call out, “Joe will miss it,” and his bat would somehow swing wrong and hit a foul ball to the sound of someone’s excited cry, “How’s that?”
It is probably little wonder that Joe began to doubt himself. He felt reluctant to do things. He was scared that if he tried something it would go wrong and he would hear those dreaded words again. He began to think that he was no good at ball games and he started to use every ploy he could to avoid participating in team sports at school. When he had to do sports, he chose individual activ-ities like running and swimming, where he was not so likely to be put down yet again—at least not by a whole team.
It was not until he got to high school that Joe began to discover things could be different from what they had been. Some of his friends decided to form a lacrosse team and asked Joe to join them.
“No, I’m no good at ball sports,” came his quick reply. They answered, “Neither are we. None of us have ever played before. We’re all in the same boat.” When he still declined, they pressed him. “We know how good you are at running, and we need a good runner.”
Joe reluctantly gave in to their pressure and, to his own surprise—while learning from scratch with his friends—he found he could run and play a ball game at the same time. They all fumbled a bit at first, struggling to catch or scoop up the ball in their rackets. And Joe found he was not much worse than anyone else. They practiced as a team twice a week and Joe even practiced in his back-yard almost every day, without telling the others. In their first competitive game, Joe surprised him-self by being the first to score a goal. Their coach was excited. Joe became their hero and found that, not only could he do it, he enjoyed doing it.
You see, there was something that Joe did not realize at the time when people used to say, “Let Joe do it.” He was young and growing up. You have to learn to turn on a tap so that it doesn’t rush out too fast. You cannot necessarily expect to be perfect the first time—or even at all the later times—
you try to do something. You have to learn how to hold a plate so that it doesn’t slip from your fin-gers when you’re washing or drying up. You have to learn how to judge the right distance and speed to move your arm when picking up a glass of water. Joe didn’t know this because everyone around him was bigger than he and had already learned how to do those things. He just expected—as every-one else seemed to expect—that he should be as good as they were.
He hadn’t realized when he was playing softball on summer vacation that his father and uncle and cousins were all older and physically more mature than he was. Joe was the youngest and, con-sequently, you really couldn’t expect him to be as skilled as they were in managing the coordination between his eyes and hands, could you? But as he grew up he became as equally capable of doing the sorts of things they could do. Maybe not all of those things, but certainly some of them. Maybe he could even learn to do things that they couldn’t do.
He doesn’t often hear people say “Let Joe do it” anymore. On those few occasions when he does, however, he is able to smile to himself and think, “Yeah, that’s just part of growing up.”
CARING FOR YOU
STORY 15
DISCOVERING YOUR SPECIALNESS Therapeutic Characteristics
Problems Addressed
■ Not feeling special
■ Sibling rivalry
■ Feeling inadequate
■ Comparing yourself to others—unfavorably Resources Developed
■ Learning that helping others can help yourself
■ Showing kindness
■ Accepting your own abilities
■ Listening to how others value you Outcomes Offered
■ Self-acceptance
■ Being yourself
■ Discovering your own specialness
If there was one thing Jill could wish for, it was to feel special, because she couldn’t remember that she ever had. Of course, there probably had been times in her life when she had felt very special, but those times were ones she did not remember easily. Maybe there were times when she was a re-ally young baby and her parents were so pleased and proud that she had arrived. She probably didn’t remember how her mother, father, grandparents, and others leaned over the cot and made funny baby-sounds at her. She probably didn’t recall what great delight they took in watching her begin to crawl, walk, and talk. I have no way of knowing when things began to change—whether her par-ents changed, or Jill changed, or it was a bit of both. Maybe it had something to do with when her little sister was born and Jill started to think that this new baby was getting all the attention. It seemed that everyone thought she was more special than Jill.
Going to school didn’t help. It always seemed that there was someone better than Jill, someone whom others took more notice of than her. She wanted to be special herself.
Jill was not the top student in her class, like Emma was. While she was certainly not at the bot-tom of the class, either, she wished she could be more like Emma, who always topped every subject.
Jill noticed when report cards were handed out at school that Emma’s mom was always at the gate waiting for her. After studying Emma’s card, her mother would give Emma a big hug and promise her a reward, like buying her a special gift or taking her to see a movie. But Jill’s report card always said, “could do better” or “could try harder.” Her parents said the same when she got it home: “We are pleased to see that you passed everything, but maybe you can do better next term.”
Jill didn’t feel special at sports, either. She could run and swim all right, but she never got selected for the school teams like Penny did. Consequently, Jill often found herself wishing she could be more
like Penny. Penny was the fastest runner at school and also the fastest swimmer. Anything that any-one could do, sports-wise, Penny seemed to be able to do better. Sometimes Jill thought it wasn’t fair that Penny could do so many things so well. Compared to Penny, Jill thought of herself as a “fumble foot” and, after a while, she just gave up trying to get on the sports teams.
Jill didn’t even feel special at having lots of friends. Kathy was the one in the class who seemed to do that much better than anyone else . . . and Jill wished she could be more like Kathy. Kathy was the clown, she was a lot of fun, she was always laughing and joking and telling stories. Everyone wanted to be her friend. She had more kids for sleepovers than anyone else in the class. Mind you, Jill was not without friends; she had several close friends. It was just that she didn’t get invited to every sleepover like Kathy did. She didn’t get invited to every birthday party. So when some kids were asked, and she was not, she felt decidedly unspecial.
As it happened, one afternoon when they were about to leave school Jill walked passed Emma, who was desperately pulling all the contents out of her bag, spreading them out on the bench, search-ing and searchsearch-ing. “What’s the matter?” asked Jill. “I lost my math homework sheet,” said Emma, “and it’s due in tomorrow. I don’t know what to do.” Jill said, “Mine is at home. I haven’t done it; I was find-ing it difficult. If you want you can come to my home and we can do it together.” Emma went to Jill’s house and together they worked on the math assignment. Emma explained to Jill some of the math concepts that Jill had never understood. When they had completed their homework and Emma was about to go, she said to Jill, “Thank you. Without you, I wouldn’t have got it done and might have failed.” Jill felt just a tiny, sneaky feeling of being special for helping someone she admired like Emma.
Emma turned to go home but then paused a minute, and said to Jill, “You know, it’s hard always being at the top of the class, your parents and teachers expect so much of you. I often wish I was like you and didn’t have all these pressures.”
Long before the school’s track-and-field day arrived, Jill had given up trying to compete, but she offered to help out and was assigned the task of ensuring that everyone got from the locker room to the start of the races on time. As she was doing this, Penny, the school’s fastest runner, called out, “Oh no!” Jill asked, “What’s wrong?” Penny replied, “I left my running shoes back in the classroom but I need to change and I don’t have time to get them before the start of the race.” “Then I will,” said Jill, and raced back to the classroom faster than she had ever run in her life. She found Penny’s shoes and brought them back to the locker room in double-quick time. Penny grabbed them in a hurry and flew out to start her race. When she came back with her winning ribbon, she said, “Thank you, Jill. I wouldn’t have been able to even start the race without you. You must have run to get my shoes like a true champion.”
As she packed her clothes back in her bag, she turned to Jill and said, “You know, everyone ex-pects me to always win the races. There are many times that I wish I was like you.”
A day or two later Jill came across Kathy crying in the girls’ restroom by herself. “What’s the matter?” asked Jill. “Everyone always expects me to be funny,” said Kathy. “They expect me to be happy and jovial all the time but there are times, like everyone, when I feel sad or just simply don’t want to be funny. The other kids don’t seem to understand. If I’m not what they expect it seems I’m not their friend any more.” Jill sat and listened while Kathy talked about her feelings and how she felt the pressure to live up to the expectations of others.
When the tears had subsided, she said, “You know, Jill, there are many times when I wish I was just like you.”
CARING FOR YOU
Jill was surprised that Emma, Penny, and Kathy could wish they were just like her. She was even more surprised when Kathy gave her a big hug and said, “Thanks.” It surprised Jill, too, how she be-gan to see things differently after that. Maybe she didn’t need to be tops at any one thing. Maybe she didn’t need to be special at anything in particular. Maybe it was enough just to know that she was spe-cial being who she was.
STORY 16
THE IMPORTANCE OF ACCEPTING COMPLIMENTS Therapeutic Characteristics
Problems Addressed
■ Low self-esteem
■ Rejection of compliments
■ The complications of false modesty Resources Developed
■ Learning to value yourself
■ Accepting compliments Outcome Offered
■ Self-worth
One day, a pretty young snake was bathing at the edge of a lake. Having washed, she stretched out on a warm rock to dry and began to preen herself. A fly buzzing by looked down, saw her, and commented, “My, your scales are gleaming so attractively in the sunlight. You look sleek and clean.
You are such a beautiful snake.”
The snake, shy and embarrassed, slithered off seeking somewhere to hide. Seeing a hut nearby she disappeared through the thatched grass walls. She didn’t realize it was the home of the village sor-cerer. He took fright at the sight of the snake, grabbed his drum, and started beating loudly to frighten away this evil intruder.
A tortoise that was slowly journeying across an adjoining field heard the rhythmic beat of the drum and began to dance. An elephant, seeing this unseemly display from such a sedate creature, stood on the back of the tortoise. The tortoise excreted fire and the fire ignited the sorcerer’s tinder-dry grass hut. Black clouds billowed up into the sky, darkening the land. A deluge of rain fell from the heavens, but quickly abated, allowing the sun to disperse its warm and drying light. A mother ant, seizing the opportunity to dry her eggs following the flood of rain, spread them in the sun. An anteater, quick to see an opportunity for a meal, gobbled down the ant’s eggs.
The ant took the anteater to court. Seeking redress under the laws of the land, she approached the judge of the jungle, the king of beasts, and described her problem. The lion convened a court, calling together all the parties involved.
First he addressed the anteater. “Anteater, why did you eat the ant’s eggs?”
“Well,” the anteater replied, “I am an anteater. I was only doing what came naturally, what anteaters do. What other alternative was there for me when the ant spread her eggs so temptingly in front of me?”
Turning to the ant, the lion asked, “Ant, why did you spread your eggs where they might tempt the anteater?”
“It was not my intent to tempt the anteater. Surely you can see I am a better mother than that, but what else could I do to care for my young?” replied the ant. “They got wet in the heavy deluge of rain. They needed to dry out when the sun shone so warmly.”
Looking to the sun, the lion continued his investigation. “Sun, why did you shine?”
“What else could I do?” asked the sun. “It is my job. The rain had poured and, as everyone knows, the sun must follow the rain.”
“Rain, why did you pour?” asked the lion in his search to unravel the truth.
“What else could I do?” responded the rain. “The sorcerer’s hut was on fire, the whole village was under threat. I only wanted to help.”
“Hut, why did you catch on fire?”
“I couldn’t do anything else once the tortoise excreted fire on me,” answered the charred rem-nants of the sorcerer’s hut. “I was made of grass. I had stood there for years. I was very dry and had no resistance.”
“Tortoise,” inquired the king of beasts, “why did you excrete fire?”
“It was the only thing I could do. The elephant stood on me. With her weight, my life was threatened. I had to do something to try and escape.”
The lion looked up at the elephant. “Tell me, elephant, why did you tread on the tortoise?”
“What else was there to do?” asked the elephant. “She danced so wildly. Her behavior was most unbecoming and inappropriate for a tortoise. I thought she had gone crazy or something. I didn’t in-tend to hurt her. I just wanted to help settle her wild mood.”
The lion turned back to the tortoise. “Why was it you were dancing so wildly?”
“What else could I do?” responded the tortoise. “The sorcerer was beating out such rhythmic and compelling dance music on his drum, I had no choice. I just had to dance.”
“Sorcerer, why were you beating your drum?”
The sorcerer answered, “What else was there for me to do when the snake entered my hut? She frightened me. She was dangerous. Serpents are the representations of evil forces and bad omens. I had to chase its evil presence out of my home.”
“Snake,” inquired the king of beasts, patiently working his way through the line of witnesses,
“why did you enter the sorcerer’s hut?”
“What else could I do?” answered the snake. “The fly embarrassed me with its words of praise.
Somehow, somewhere I had to hide my face, and the grass hut of the sorcerer was the closest refuge.”
Finally the lion, lord of jungle justice, turned to the fly and asked, “Fly, why did you praise the snake?”
The fly did not address the king of beasts but instead turned to look at the snake and asked,
“What, don’t you know how to take a compliment?”
CARING FOR YOU