I have been a professor of counseling for 10 years and a
psychotherapist for almost 15. Knowing
this about me, one would think that I’m full of
compassion and feelings, but I’m not. Though I have
a fantastic ability to work empathetically and caringly with my clients and my
students (I know that sounds egotistical, but I also believe that every
therapist should have a strong sense of self efficacy. Part of that is what
gives us credibility in our clients’
eyes), I’m very analytical and would call myself more of a puzzle guy. You see,
I entered into the world of mental health counseling because I find people
extremely interesting – their behaviors, thoughts, feelings, reactions … I love
it all. I didn’t enter the field initially because I had an extreme drive to
help others; I just loved the journey and process.
My decision even baffled my friends as I was never the
touchy feely type. One of my close friends,
Rik, even used to joke that I did not
possess tear ducts, and he was correct to a degree. I
often thought of myself as Seinfeld in
the way that he could just say things like, “good
luck with all of that” or just shrug his shoulders without skipping a beat. I
mean think about it, if Jerry did start feeling compassion what would that discovery be like? I do see the value in my
analytical side though. For a portion of my career, I worked as a crisis
counselor. In this job I worked with college students that were experiencing
all levels of crisis and heightened emotionality: Students that had suicidal
ideation or attempted suicide, have been assaulted, survived an overdose, lost
someone close, etc. It was a pretty heavy job, especially since it was an
on-call gig and most of the time I was doing crisis counseling at 3 in the
morning, but I loved every second of it. My role was to make a connection with
a student in crisis and create an intentional safe space for them to share their
pain and story and discover hope. It took a ton of empathy, unconditional
positive regard and congruence and I always rocked it.
But remember what I said before, I am also a puzzle guy.
This part gave me the appropriate amount of distance to see this horrible pain
over and over, and because my main role was to
keep them safe and assist them towards a process of healing, I could manage
both very easily in every session. Now I’m making myself sound a bit callous
through these first couple of paragraphs, but in all honesty, I love what I do
for a living so much and do care about my students and clients – I’m just built
in a different way. These last 4 months of being a father have been wonderful
and exhilarating. I have shared many new and exciting experiences with Myles
and, as a result, I think he’s turning me into a softy.
Today I found myself in court with jury duty as my
sentence. My plan was to find any way possible to get out of it because my main
job is taking care of Myles fulltime and I couldn’t give up more than one day.
My in-laws were watching him and they do a great job, but in this daddy’s mind,
no one is as good as him – I think this is probably a universal feeling for
many parents. My ‘shot in the dark’ was to tell them that there’s no one to care
for my child and see where that goes.
My number was called immediately and off to the court room
I went. The judge did his thing and then the State started asking us (the
potential jurors) questions. After a funny moment when one of the jurors told the
State attorney that he thought she dated his friend (she did), the attorney
started asking us if we were glad to be there. “Fuck no!,” I yelled … in my
head of course. What I really said (in a kind tone) was, “I would really prefer
if I wasn’t here today.” The State continued their questioning, “Well, why?!?”
“Well State,” I said, “You see, my wife is working full time and I’m a
stay-at-home-dad for my 4-month old.” This was met with an “Awww” from the
entire courtroom. Fuck, I thought, now I look compassionate … thanks for
nothing Myles. So I decided to shake it up and with a straight face I said,
“Well, he’s with my mother-in-law and I kind of trust her.” They are laughed
and found it cute. Fuck, now I’m cute … thanks for nothing Myles.
Now it was the defense attorney’s time to ask questions.
After countless metaphors about trials and defendants he asked the potential
jurors, “So does anyone know what’s
the #1 fear of people?” The answer is Public Speaking (He told us #2 is death)
and I gave the correct answer right away. Then I thought, “Oh shit,
it’s another one of his lame metaphors to try and inform us about the normality
for a defendant not to take the stand.’
Fuck, now I’m smart and sympathetic … thanks for nothing Myles (this one wasn’t
really his fault, but I have to stick with this phrase for the blog theme – I’m
sure you understand). At this point I had painted myself as an unbiased,
compassionate, smart and sympathetic potential juror … I really screwed myself
and, of course,
I was selected. Now I forgot to mention this but the worst part of this
interaction was the defense attorney saying, “Well you know what that means …
If you’re at a funeral, you’d rather be in the casket than give the eulogy” …
as if he wrote it. Shenanigans! He’s a joke thief and of the worst
kind! I mean stealing from a Seinfeld episode? Get your own material
buddy!
I have never been a juror but I really enjoyed the
process. As a puzzle guy, I had fun trying to piece together the testimonies
and evidence, looking for connections and incongruities, and,
of course, picking out where the lawyers went
wrong with their questioning (and in this case there were so many missed
opportunities on both sides of the courtroom). The State presented their
witnesses and the Defense followed. The Defense
put the defendant on the stand which I thought was interesting, and then her
11-year-old son. When this happened, I immediately wondered about the meaning
of this outcome for him. And when the State said, “You don’t want anything to
happen to your mommy, do you?” it hit even harder. This hearing was supposed to
be about what his mother was charged with and not how it would make him feel if
it we determined that she was in fact guilty, but now I had both on my mind.
I’m a father now, so how could I not. Fuck, I have feelings … Thanks for
nothing Myles.
The State and Defense gave their closing arguments and we
were now deliberating in our quarters. My mind was caught between the evidence
and that young child whose role it was to defend his mother and protect her
from harm. I experienced us going back and forth for a while making no headway,
so the counselor in me said, “I’m wondering if there is anything else that is
preventing us from going fully one way or the other?”
As soon as I said this, I realized I was asking this question for myself. That
kid was on my mind. His mother’s charges were in no way his fault and he has no
way of knowing what may come of him and his family if we found his mom guilty.
I felt for this kid and began playing out scenarios of what might happen if we
turned a guilty or not guilty verdict. Fuck, I still have feelings … Thanks for
nothing Myles.
This was a very odd experience for me, because remember …
I’m the puzzle guy! God dammit Dr. Dino, you should be focusing solely on the
evidence that was presented in the courtroom. I decided I needed to honor my
feelings about the kid and not fight their placement in a jury deliberation.
Accepting that these feelings were an appropriate experience allowed me to
focus on our role that day and ultimately offer up my vote. Fuck, I reflect on
my feelings now … Thanks for nothing Myles
We filed into the court room for the 6th time
that day, but this time was different. The verdict was set. Being a professor
in the mental health field, I find myself quite fascinated with people’s
reactions … I actually have all my life. As I sat down I was fixated on the mom
and both attorneys. How would they react when the verdict was read? Would their
reaction confirm or deny our verdict? Would there be happiness, relief,
sadness, devastation? My mind was on fire with possibility and interest. And
then, out of the corner of my eye I saw the 11-year-old son sitting in the back
of the room. He was there to hear what would happen to his mom. I imagined him
thinking, “Could this person I love so dearly, feel incredibly safe with and
just need in my life be taken away from me or will I be elated and relieved
because I get to hold her hand as we take the elevator down and go home? Maybe
we can have pizza for dinner.” Fuck, I definitely have feelings … Thanks Myles,
but in all sincerity, thank you Myles. Love you kid.
