“You can’t give what you don’t have” may seem like a logical and reasonable statement. I can’t give you the details of Plank’s Theorem if I have no training in mathematics and I can’t give you the cash to pay your rent if I’m down to my last ten bucks. Alternatively, as a seasoned net-surfer, I could show you how to get the information online and, having worked for a bank, I could lead you through the mechanics of securing the most favorable loan or making arrangements for debt consolidation. So, while my limitations are clear and understandable, there are many things I could do to be of assistance.
But once we sink into the murky depths of human relationships, what is logical and reasonable can become deceptively blurred and distorted. Time and again, I’ve watched parents struggle to give their kids what they didn’t get from their own parents, only to pass the same deficits on to their offspring. Time and again I’ve heard practicing and would-be Child and Youth Care workers tell me how they “understand” what the kids need because of their own childhood deprivations. Invariably, their heart-felt efforts to ‘make things right’ end up in frustration and rejection. Some decide to abandon their noble cause to become more “professional’ while others soldier on to their destiny with disenchantment and burn-out.
Please don’t get me wrong. I’m talking about caring, sensitive and well-meaning folks who genuinely want to enhance the well-being of young people for all the right reasons The essential problem is not their intention but their confused belief that by trying to give something they’ve never had, the missing pieces will miraculously appear and all will be well. So, rather than settle for the gifts they could bring to the party, they bring only empty packages that have no intrinsic value for either the giver or the receiver. It’s a futile exchange and the more intense it becomes, the greater the let down and resentment on both sides. But, for the most part, it’s the caring adult who suffers the most. However difficult it is for self-respecting professionals to admit they are looking to remedy their own deficiencies through the kids, that possibility is always somewhere in the mix. In this case, the work is being clearly driven by the needs of the practitioner who is prepared to sacrifice his or her Self to a hopeless cause. The answer is not to eradicate the sin or punish the sinner: the real professional will recognize what’s happening, take responsibility, and steer a different course. He or she will know that it’s simply another step along the way.
The Confessions of an Undercover Giver
If this still sounds critical or judgmental, let me acknowledge my own complicity. As a young child, I felt abandoned by parents who, after my father returned from his duties in the second world war, became preoccupied for eight hours a day and seven days a week with their small retail business. With the exception of my paternal grandmother, who died when I was eight, I felt unseen and unheard by the adults around me. In school, I always made sure I had one or two ‘special’ friends and jealously guarded these relationships for fear that I might be betrayed and abandoned again. From the outside, I was considered to be just another run-of-the-mill working class kid, passively resisting the expectations of my teachers and occasionally brushing up against the moral and legal authorities in my grimy and dreary neighborhood. But, on the inside, I struggled to contain deeply rooted fears about my competence, acceptability and worthiness. To my friends I was a rebel and a leader, but whenever I delved beneath this carefully constructed image, I came face-to-face with a lonely kid, full of self-doubt and ready to do whatever was necessary to secure a place in an indifferent world.
Getting into a university did nothing to assuage my doubts or bolster my esteem. On the contrary, having attributed this unlikely outcome to a series of random events, I found myself isolated among cliques of toffee-nosed achievers constant reminders of my inferior status and unacceptability. Resorting to a well-practiced strategy, I found another couple of working-class misfits and together we dreamed up ways of rejecting the oppressors and sabotaging their pretensions whenever the opportunities arose.
By this time, I’d committed myself to working with kids – kids who, through no fault of their own, were left to roam unattended and uncared for in the barren wastelands of the city slums. I knew exactly what needed to be done. I would come to know them as special and unique human beings; I would listen to what they thought and how they felt, assuring them of their inherent worthiness and supporting them in moving beyond their personal, economic and cultural limitations. And, above all, I would be there for them through thick and thin – no rejection, no abandonment no sir.
So, immediately after graduation, off I went to work at a Youth Center with the most deprived and downtrodden kids in the most deprived and downtrodden part of the city. Here I felt at home. I understood these kids – they were just like my old school buddies – the way I used to be. While the other youth leaders seemed to spend their time teaching, preaching and screeching, I was there to listen to whatever the kids had to say. While it was all so familiar and predictable, I wanted them to know that that I cared and understood. I used what I’d learned in my final academic year to enhance their self-esteem, particularly the social-reinforcement stuff, but my primary focus was to ‘be there’ regardless of whatever else was going on. I never kept count of my hours of ‘service’ and my mission became my life. If anybody could help these kids, it was me. I was their hope and nobody was going to question my dedication.
It took me well over a year to admit that things were not working out. I began to feel drained at the end of each shift and less enthusiastic about meeting wayward kids in homes, schools and parks on my own time. Without listing all the signs and symptoms, I reluctantly came to the conclusion that my interventions were not having the impact I’d hope for. Certainly the kids accepted me, but more as one of them than someone who could help to bring hope and meaning into their troubled lives. I grew tired of listening to their repetitive stories, their unwillingness to think beyond the clichés of their ‘sub-culture’ and their tedious methods of avoiding responsibility by presenting themselves as victims. In short, I found myself losing my empathy, patience and commitment to a cause that had been driving me from the inside. And, along with this, came the old familiar feelings of being unappreciated, unseen, incompetent and alone. When my supervisor suggested I should stop “all the fancy counseling stuff” and use my athletic abilities to put together a team in the City Football League, I told him I hadn’t gone to university for four years to become a bloody soccer coach. When he went on to suggest that my frustration was more about me than the kids in the program, I told him to go to Hell.
Of course he was absolutely spot on but I wasn’t ready to confront the obvious at the time. Yet somewhere behind all the determination and bravado was the sneaky unacceptable belief that if I could make the kids feel seen and heard, then they would see and hear me in return, we would come to know each other. If I could get them to change their ways and feel better about themselves, then my efforts would be rewarded and I would begin to feel better about myself. Surrounded by needy kids and dedicated youth care workers, I would have a place where, at last, I would feel wanted, competent and appreciated.
Coming to recognize my delusions was a long and painful process, but looking back to that time, I can now say, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that I needed the kids at the Dingle Youth Settlement far more than they needed me. But I no longer condemn myself for my early delusions. This was a critical period in my personal and professional development and as I think about them now, and listen again to what they were telling me, it’s abundantly clear that those youngsters, including the ones in my soccer team (we came second in the division championships) were actually my teachers. So I really did need them and, in a strange roundabout way, they really did deliver.
It’s Not a Game of Give and Take
Trying to give what we don’t have is not, in itself, a selfish, destructive or pathological act. On the contrary, it’s a natural ingredient in the development of all personal and caring relationships. Consider the greatest gift of all – love. Children who grow up receiving constant unconditional love may come to know that loving others is an expression of Self that seeks nothing in return. But even the briefest sense of being loved can open the heart and create a longing for more. When love from others is conditional, children will strive to meet the conditions of the provider. If the provider needs to be loved in return, then love becomes a commodity to be traded back and forth in a game of give and take. In the most primary case, a mother may look to her baby to give her the love she didn’t get as a child. Obviously, no infant is able to provide this service. The child may learn to say “I love you mommy” twenty times a day, but mother’s needs will remain constant and unsatisfied. This situation won’t change until mother let’s her baby of the hook and finds another source of loving. And herein lies the crux of the matter.
Developmentally speaking, our needs to feel loved, seen, accepted and valued cannot be met from the outside beyond the age of three or four. From that point on, the Self becomes the internal source and manager of our thoughts and feelings. If, for example, we come to define ourselves as ‘unlovable,” loving messages from the outside will not be received as intended. From this point on, we have to find these gifts in ourselves before we can accept them from, and give them to, others.
This doesn’t mean we should withdraw from relationships until all our childhood longings have been satisfied. Quite the opposite. It’s only through relationships that we come to identify and acknowledge our unmet needs, learn how to look after and value ourselves, and come to experience and share the fullness of our being. In other words, once we become aware of our missing pieces, we must somehow find the resources within ourselves rather than expect our friends, lovers and partners to fill the void.
Can you imagine a relationship in which both parties are looking to each other to provide the impossible? Well, strange as it may seem, through my own life and many years of working with couples, I’ve become convinced that this dynamic exists at some time, and to some extent, in all personal and intimate relationships. Without awareness and intervention, this charade has the power to stifle the personal growth of both parties and strangle their relationship in a web of repetitive and meaningless rituals. But if the cause is understood and each person gradually begins to let the other off the hook, both selves are released from bondages of the past to create a bond between equals … and the relationship blossoms. This is what I mean when I say it is part of the journey.
Having fessed-up to my own complicities, I’m also convinced that this same delusion is equally prevalent in relationships between helping professionals and their clients. And again, I believe that, through understanding and sensitivity, this awareness can transform the relational contract from “helping-you” to “growing together,” regardless of the chronological and developmental differences between the parties. In other words, I think this is something that applies as much in the practice of Child and Youth Care as it does in social work and psychotherapy. To this end, I invite you to consider the following suggestions ...
Finding the Elusive Gift
As always, awareness is the bottom line. As I’ve said many times before in this series, being aware of your own childhood experience is essential for you to understand where you end and your ‘client’ begins. Discovering the residual longings from your early life is part of that process. You might begin by asking yourself: “To what extent did I feel wanted, loved, cared for, appreciated, worthwhile, understood, competent” – and whatever other questions might arise from your research. But, before going any further, it’s important to let your parents off the hook. Remind yourself that there are no perfect parents and whatever they did, or didn’t do, is now in the past. They also had their own stuff to deal with and, chances are, they did what they thought was right at the time. So, give them a message of appreciation; it’s time to move on to take charge of your own life.
To identify the missing pieces don’t just rely upon what your adult mind has to say. Take a breath as you consider each one and go to that place where the earliest memories are contained – within your body. Focus on the one that draws the most feeling and stay with it. How is that need playing out in your current life and relationships? Is there someone you’ve been hoping will meet that need? If so, let them off the hook too and consider ways for you take charge by giving that missing piece to yourself? There is no prescription for this – different people have different ways – but the following are a few random examples taken from my own life and from the lives of folks I’ve worked with over the years:
Seeking love, yet feeling unlovable
Seeking connection, yet abandoning the Self (often in the service of others)
Seeking a sense of self worth, yet judging ‘successes’ and ‘failures’ through the eyes of others
Seeking to be seen and heard, yet presenting a false self (image) to the world
These are some general ideas for you to consider as a general framework, not a prescription. The real challenge is to create your own strategies for meeting your own needs in your own way. Remember, you have all the resources you need to become the author of your own life, so be gentle with yourself, be creative and use only what fits for you.
Using the Gifts You Already Have
Knowing what you’re not yet ready to bring into a relationship is a significant step forward, but it’s equally important to be aware of all the valuable gifts you can bring to the party. My supervisor had the right idea when he suggested I should form a soccer team at the Youth Center.
What he failed to recognize were all the other qualities and talents I had to offer and, in my own self-depreciating way, I was devastated and angry. I felt unseen and unheard, unappreciated, unwanted and unworthy. But all that was in place well before he came along why would I expect him to know of things I hadn’t even disclosed. So, with all this in mind, I offer the following suggestions for your consideration.
Don’t be Selfish – Be Self-full
If you’re like me, you’ll find it easier to focus on your deficits than your contributions –a revealing piece of self-information from the get-go. Even to this day, I tend to begin my personal audit by focusing upon the assets before moving to the liabilities. Examining and fine-tuning the gifts you bring will almost certainly enhance your personal and professional satisfaction and, as you begin to take responsibility for giving yourself what you didn’t get, that satisfaction can only increase along with the quality of your relationships. In the final analysis, it seems to me that dissatisfaction, frustration and burn out are more likely to arise from our futile attempts to give what we don’t have, rather than embracing all the wonderful gifts that we do have to offer. I firmly believe that my best way to be in relationship is to live my own life to the full, knowing that I can share my experience with others without losing my Self along the way.
To conclude with a new version of an old adage: It’s better to give and receive – as long as one doesn’t demand the other.
