Who's teaching who? (new ending)

I'm the one with the master's degree. I should be the one who knows what to say and how to say it and it should be clear and meaningful to those who are listening, right? My clients should come to the meetings eager to learn and leave with new knowledge in which to face their day. Right?

I have been assigned to run a psycho-educational group for boundaries. My first two groups had gone smoothly with minimal challenges. Several women were excited that they were learning how to say 'no' when they needed to, or just wanted to. Some women had no idea what a boundary was when they came in, and reported how their life has changed. All thanked me for what they had learned and reported to others that the boundaries class was very helpful. The waiting list grew.

And then came the third group.

It was the very first meeting when I keep the chairs in a classroom format with me standing at the front and my class members facing me. I gave them the forms to sign regarding the rules and the goals for this class, and gave my spiel on how important it is to maintain confidentiality and to really work on their issues.

A woman I'll call Sally is sitting in the third row all the way to the right. She is a middle aged Caucasian woman I have met with frequently and has embraced the fact that she really "messed up", though her choice of words are much more colorful. She really works hard with therapy. She raises her hand and asks the question in her larynx damaged voice from too much smoking "well, what do you do if someone comes into your cubicle and trashes it up?" The others, including myself, assume she is referring to a correctional officer, and several women offer feedback on how to handle the officers on these stressful situations. Sally clarifies "no, I mean when it's another offender".

On that same row a few seats down is another woman whom I'll call Jewel. She is a middle aged African American woman with a whole lot of personality. She sits straight up in her seat, a look of amazement on her face, looks at Sally and states emphatically "you gotta clock 'er!" I'm standing at the front saying something along the line of "well, let's look at this and see if there might be other options", but my voice is tuned out, and a woman in the seat in front of Jewel turns around and states "wow, that must feel pretty good", to which Jewel is saying "sure do!". I'm still trying to redirect the conversation, and a woman on the front row states "I've clocked a lot of people!" to which I reply "and you have spent a whole lot of time in solitary". A voice from the back states "You gotta stand up to them or they'll keep running you over", to which Jewel continues to nod her head emphatically in agreement.

I try to demonstrate wisdom, acknowledging that some people only understand power, and like teaching your child to stand up to bullies on the play ground, sometimes you have to fight. "But you've been fighting all your life, and look where it's gotten you! Perhaps there are other ways to resolve your conflicts!" I continue in this vein, encouraging discussion along this line of thinking, but there are no more comments and looks of "you just don't understand" on each and every face.

I get to the end of my suggestions, and I look at Sally, and I ask her "So, Sally, has this been helpful to you at all?", to which she replies "Yeah, I think I'm gonna clock the B^*&#!"

I hate to admit my unprofessionalism, but I doubled over in laughter! How could I not? We continued to laugh about it the next week, as they got a kick out of me laughing so hard. It actually established an open and honest relationship between us. They were free to say what was really on their minds and knew I could handle it.

Several weeks later Sally reported that this situation came to a head. The particular woman who was harassing her came into her cubicle to attack her. Sally defended herself and the woman retreated. She was asked how this felt, and she said that it didn't feel very good, and that it didn't really resolve anything. Sally continues, in her own unique way, to grapple with her brokenness and is working on changing. She is one of the joys of my job, and I am very proud of her.