Listen to thisPositive Behavior Facilitation (PBF) is a comprehensive approach to understanding and intervening in the behavior of youth. This article describes the components of PBF.
Having read about the owner and his work in the community, I walk into the bike shop called Corey the Bike Fixer’s in need of a handlebar stem that will shorten my reach on my road bike.
A husky, short, haired-man with a goatee approaches, smiles, and says, “The Dairyaire.”
"Excuse me,” I respond.
“The Dairyaire.”
I smile and look around to see if anyone is listening. “How do you know that term?”
"I read your novel, Floating. You gave it to me when I came to see you about ten years ago. I was taking one of your classes and looking for something to read, and you gave me your novel Floating. I remember the Dairyaire because that’s the place that kid danced as a male stripper when he ran away from the group home. What was his name?”
"Daniel.”
"Yeah, that’s it. Don’t you remember me? I came to see you. I was working at St. Charles then.”
"Yes, I think I do. You worked at Lakeside too, didn’t you?”
“Corey,” he extends his hand.
“Corey, of course. And you worked in Florida for a while.”
He smiles, “Yes, that’s it. I loved your book. Have you written others?”
"Yes. So how did you get in the bike business?” I ask changing the subject. I don’t like to talk about my writing.
“Can I see some of it?”
"Yes, I'll bring something by. But tell me how you got into the bike business?” I look around. The little shop is packed with new and used bikes, which he fixes up and resells. In the back of the shop youth are repairing bikes.
“Well you remember all those bikes in the basement at Lakeside?”
"Yes, I do. I was supervisor of one of the cottages at one time you know.”
He nods. “Yes, you told us that in class. You went there after you worked at the other place for a long time. You didn’t like it there as much.”
"Yes, it just wasn’t the same at Lakeside.”
"In the years after you left most of the bikes got broke and I began fixing them until every kid who wanted and earned a bike could have one. It was one of the most successful programs they had. I got the kids doing something productive, and we really connected while we worked together.”
"Great work, Corey.”
"Yeah, I thought so.”
“So why did you leave?”
“The agency didn’t value my work. When I applied for a supervisory opening they gave the position to someone else.”
I want to say that being a good Child and Youth Care worker doesn’t necessarily make you a good supervisor but don’t. “Sorry to hear that, but you seem to be doing some great things here and for the community. I’ve heard and read about your work in the Express (a local newspaper) without necessarily making the connection. That’s why I stopped in.”
A young woman and her father pull a bike out of a rack. “Excuse me a minute,” Corey says and goes over to talk to a customer while I look around. I could use a new bike myself, but I want to get another year or two out of the one I still have. It feels good being in this place small and cluttered with bikes in an East Side neighborhood where people are trying to build community. This shop and the little bookstore not too far away where I go to readings are two good examples of how small business, public places, and people more than anything else become the anchors in strong neighborhoods. Corey comes over with the customer and says, “This man was a big influence on me.”
Embarrassed, I smile then say, “You were a big influence on me too, Corey.”
“Thanks,” Corey says, and turns to the customer, “So, look around a little and let me know if I can help.”
"I heard about how you donated bikes to the neighborhood near the university to help with the traffic problems, and how you are offering inexpensive bikes to the people on the east side so they can get around,” I say.
"Yeah, we want to be part of and help build the community. It’s good for business and my neighborhood. Child and youth care taught me a lot, like how important it is to be sincere and genuine in my work here. I never try to sell someone they don’t want, and if they do buy something and don’t like it, I'll always take it back or exchange it for something else of equal value. That’s how I advertise, not with expensive radio ads that shout at people.”
"You sell connection, dependability, a place to trust and count on.”
"Exactly.”
“That’s why you’re successful.”
"I’d like to think so. When I sell someone a used or new bike I want them to know they can always come back with it for repairs or concerns and we will try to accommodate them.”
“Wish more businesses were like that.”
"I don’t understand why they don’t get it. “So, how can I help you?”
I explain that the reach is too long for me on my bike, which I bought two years ago, and wonder if he has some ideas for how I can shorten it.
"Here,” he says while walking to the back of his shop where he keeps the spare parts “try this,” and hands me a shorter stem than the one I have on my bike.
"How much?”
“Take it and try it, and if it works come back and pay me or if it doesn’t give it back?”
"You sure?”
"Yeah, I trust you. Anyone who wrote a book like Floating can be trusted.”
I thank him and leave, a little unsure of his last comment. The book was fiction, and even if it rang true with the reader’s experience, I'll never be sure how genuine I was in writing my first novel about my experience in Child and Youth Care.
The stem works and I go back in a few weeks to pay Corey.
"Did you think Floating was real?” I ask him.
“Well, no, but real in the sense that a good story reflects an experience as seen by a person at a certain point in his or her life. Actually, I thought both the lead characters were based on you, the worker and the youth.”
I leave satisfied and impressed by Corey’s insight, and once again reminded to have confidence in readers, and youth, to get it on their own.
Two years later I return to trade in my bike, which never fit right. Corey spends time with me getting the bike I like to fit, and letting me test-ride it around the neighborhood. As I ride I think about how grateful I am to Child and Youth Care for helping keep me youthful and fit, especially during a serious bout with cancer that I had the previous year.
I buy the bike and a few weeks later, I come back with my wheels in hand. I have been watching the Tour De France and like everyone am in awe of Lance Armstrong, who is also a cancer survivor. I wait outside while Corey sizes up a boy on a used bike. “How does it feel?”
"Good.”
"It’s yours.”
“Thanks Corey,” the kid says and races off down the street.
“So, how can I help you this time?” Corey asks me.
"I thought maybe I’d try a thinner tire.”
He smiles, asks, “Been watching the Tour?”
"Yes, and trying to stay in shape like Lance,” I respond.
"Looking for more speed, aren’t you.”
I hesitate, tell a little lie, “No,” I just thought it would help me get up the hills in the country a little faster.”
“Sure,” Corey grabs one of the wheels, feels the tire. “It would help you know if you kept a little more air in your tires.”
I smile then laugh at myself.
He smirks, pumps up the tire, and says, “Actually these tires if you keep them pumped up are faster than the thinner tires because these take more air pressure.”
"You just cheated yourself out of a sale.”
"You'll be back.”
I smile again.
As I am walking away, he says, “You know you’re too old to win the Tour, don’t you?”
I continue walking, “What do you mean. I’m only 62.”
“See you Lance.”
