Listen to thisI became fascinated with the notion of personal boundaries long before “relationships” became the sliced bread of CYC practice. In those days, this profession was slowly emerging from the daily grind of front-liners working in an assortment of residential settings, most of which were more institutional that relational.
With a demonstrated competence in behavior management techniques and a shining new Master’s degree, I was given the task of redesigning a ‘closed’ program for twelve kids deemed to be “a danger to themselves and others.” So, off to work I went and, in accordance with rule number one, the door was locked behind me.
Behind The Walls
At the behest of the courts, the original program design was intended to create a secure structured environment that would “effectively discourage the residents (inmates) from their anti-social behavior through the consistent application of humane, natural and predictable consequences.” But, in less than eighteen months, this enthusiastically heralded program had descended into the tedious,life-diminishing routines known as “institutionalization.” The rules were everywhere; listed in an ever-expanding policy manual, posted on the walls in every room and hallway, spelled out at every mealtime, reverberated around the gymnasium, and inextricably locked into the psyches of all who spent their days creating, implementing, obeying, protesting and violating these restrictivepractices. And, as you would expect, relationships had become solidly embalmed in a formal and informal structural hierarchy with staff and residents sharing the same “us and them” mentality, while engaging in endless games of cat-and-mouse.
Working one 3-11 shift was sufficient to convince me that, for the health of all participants, this highly controlled, impersonal and barren life-space needed to be dismantled and rebuilt from the ground up. I didn’t have any alternative design in mind – relational or otherwise – but I knew the monstercouldn’t be conveniently taken apart one-piece at a time. My only assurance was that, whatever the chaos, at least the kids couldn’t get out and terrorize the local community.
Armed only with this flimsy assurance, I sat down with the six team leaders and we began the task of reducing the constellation of rules to an absolute bare minimum – a fascinating and revealing exercise in itself. At the end of our deliberations, we all realized that the enormous gaps we’d created in the program would need to be filled with something other than alternative rules and procedures. While we didn’t use the word “relationships” we understood that the staff had not been trained to deal with such ambiguity. In other words, they were as stuck with the rules and regulations as the kids. Then came a flash of insight from one of the leaders: If our workers are dependent on structure, then so are we. If we want them to be different with the kids, then we begin by being different with them. It may seem obvious on reflection but, at the time, it was a transformational interject – a first step toward a new program design and a risky stumble into the relatively unexplored arena of relationships. If this was an article on program modification, I’d be delighted to carry on with how this all emerged, but I need to return to my primary focus.
In order to rise to their challenge, the team leaders would have to step out of their traditional roles and renegotiate their relationships with the front-line staff. With my encouragement, they convinced the senior management to engage the services of an encounter group specialist for a series of intensive small group sessions. (yes this was a long time ago). While only the six leaders attended these trainings, the impact on the program was quicker and more extensive than any of us expected. After their first group session, two of the pioneers applied for transfers and were replaced by applicants from other programs. Throwing off the rigid shackles of the old regime, the converted custodians happily traded in their badges of power and authority for a newfound openness and ‘authenticity.’ Unfortunately, thefront-liners were not ready for this dramatic transformation of their supervisors and their reactions ranged from stunned bemusement to passive resistance and outright defiance. Unfulfilling as it might have been, the old way was at least understandable; they knew where they stood and what they had to do to keep the wheels turning. Now they found themselves floundering in a sea of unknown expectations and dubious outcomes and, as the anxiety and confusion began to spread in all directions, the kids delighted in doing whatever they could to stir the pot.
Watching the meltdown unfold, there was no doubt in my mind that, ultimately, yours truly would be held accountable for the impending disaster. Given a choice, I would probably have reverted to the status quo but, as all tyrants know, once power has been relinquished it can’t be readily reinstated. The only logical option was to press on with the blind belief that chaos eventually evolves into some new order. Rather than panic, I did what all astute managers do when their backs are to the wall – I held meetings, lots of meetings. Not really knowing what I wanted, these gatherings with various staff groups generally had only token agendas. In effect, they offered opportunities for people to talk – to share their fears and examine their options. Fearing confrontation and demands for a return to the old hierarchy, I made sure these discussions brought together folks from all parts of the program.
I was playing for time and, in my determination to find solutions, I failed to see what was actually taking place at these ‘rap sessions.’ In fact, as time went on, people were not seeking a return to the security of the old way — quite the opposite. They were not talking about how to control the insipient bedlam, but how to deal with their own fears and feelings of incompetence. And in this, they were being led by those who had opened Pandora’s Box in the first place – our evangelical band of team leaders. They had, indeed stepped out of their roles to communicate their new gospel of authenticity with wide-eyed enthusiasm, systematically reassuring the doubters and firmly confronting the resisters. One of the new guys stopped me in the hallway. “I love being in this program,” he told me, “This is fantastic. We never had a chance to talk like this in community services – we just went by the book.” “Oh great,” I said, “could you get me a copy please?” He didn’t get it.
It was in one of these mix-and-match meetings that the issue of personal boundaries first arose – although the term was never used. It came from a seasoned front-line worker who seriously wanted to know how we could get close to the kids without losing our authority. It was a very astute question, given what was happening ‘in the trenches’. Another old hand, who had always considered the program to be “repressive,” added the observation that we were actually using someone else’s authority to protect ourselves from the kids. So, what were we afraid of? Were the rules really in the best interests of the kids or were they simply serving to protect and keep us distant – preventing us from developing relationships? Strange as it seems now, these questions were never asked prior to the meltdown – or, at least, not in any serious way. The boundary statement came from a relative newcomer: I don’t want the system to protect me. I want to know that I can take care of myself. There were nods all round, although none of us really understood the full implications of her simple assertion.
I’ve no idea how we managed the kids while the place was being turned into an ongoing workshop, but somehow, the show went on without loss of life or limb. If I was supposed to be in charge, I had no sense of leading the way. But I was very aware of the energy shifts taking place around me. The anxiety that arose after the initial intervention by the crusading team leaders was being replaced by an anticipatory sense that something new was in the wind, even if nobody could spell out what it might look like. There’s a fine line between fear and excitement.
A significant piece fell into place when one dedicated task-group proposed replacing the rule book with a three level “Code of Conduct Manual” consisting of:
The basic idea was to create a framework for a community that had its own distinctive forms of law and order, a set of standards for communal living and a fundamental acknowledgment of individual needs and differences (notice the absence of ‘rights’). This was the first major step in the shift from rules and roles to community standards and personal boundaries. The second was the recognition that both staff and residents should be bound by the same code, even if the consequences for transgressions might differ. Boundaries are interactional by nature and it makes no sense for the adults to establish theirs while reserving the right to invade the kid’s personal space and call it an ‘intervention’. Once it became clear that these ideas would do nothing to undermine their legitimate authority, the staff began to draw residents into the discussions, first on a selective individual basis and then in small groups. The lines that had been so clearly drawn between ‘us and them’ were becoming blurred and, in effect, we were all beginning to learn about boundaries together.
Those of us who have spent many years working in residential settings know only too well that change is typically a gradual affair, but in this case, the journey from crisis into transformation took only a few weeks. In many ways, it was similar to the unpredictable state of readiness that redirects the life of a youngster when crisis, opportunity and motivation converge.
I would be lying if I said that we suddenly had a brand new effective, articulated and harmonious program based upon the principle of personal boundaries. The truth is that we struggled every day and really didn’t know very much about boundaries at all – in fact the word was seldom used.
But nobody who had experienced life in the facility prior to the intervention of the ‘born again’ team leaders could deny that there had been a fundamental shift from a custodial to a relational environment. The same conclusion could also be drawn from the available data. Over a period of two months the number of reported “critical incidents” decreased by over 40%, severe consequences by over 50% and there were only two short-term individual confinements. Talking about the changes with one of the team leaders, I was particularly encouraged by his observation that the staff seemed to be treating most unacceptable behaviors as opportunities to learn rather than violations to be punished. By then, my role as an anxious manager struggling to hold everything together had changed dramatically. Until the time when my assignment formally expired, I considered myself to be a facilitator, overseeing the creation of a new order and an evolving program.
When The Self Speaks Out
Since those heady and hectic days of yesteryear, the concept of personal boundaries has been clarified and amplified, along with our understanding of Self-development and Self-responsibility. But, in their own untutored experiential way, the staff uncovered much of what was to become embedded in theory.
When they asked: If I don’t have the rules, roles and regulations around me, how can I relate to these kids without losing my authority? what they were really concerned about was losing themselves. If we don’t feel safe, we put up walls to protect our Selves. When others react in the same way, these walls are justified and reinforced – just as the rules, roles and regulations constantly confirmed that the kids were indeed a threat. For this reason, the statement: I want to know I can take care of myself, was a courageous leap beyond the fear to claim a sense of Self that was capable of responding to its own needs and acting on its own behalf – a Self with the resources to reach out, yet create its own protection if necessary. This involves the recognition that a personal boundary is as much about making contact as it is about protection.
Also in their own way, they responded to crisis, not by scrambling to recover what was lost, but by breaking down the walls of the old institutional fortress and replacing it with a caring community that celebrated individual expression. They challenged some of the most sacrosanct assumptions of residential care, like ‘consistency’ and ‘predictability,’ thereby creating a foundation for differential individualized relational programming. They pursued the radical idea that that system should operate to promote the growth and development and well-being of the residents – a far cry from the original court-ordered prescription. They turned traditional thinking inside-out by having the courage to look at themselves as the perpetrators of a system that was as repressive for them as it was for the residents. And, above all, they demonstrated how Child and Youth Care can become a relational activity regardless of the conditions – bless ’em all.
In retrospect, what stands out for me is that they did all this without having any preconceived notion about personal, or even professional, boundaries to work from.
Since that time, I have written and taught so much about boundaries that any review here would only scratch the surface. For those who are interested, I would draw their attention to two articles in Relational Child and Youth Care Practice, 17:4 and 18:2 respectively. The topic is covered more comprehensively in my book, Don’t Let Your Kids Be Normal (2010) Influence Publishing. Meanwhile, let me provide you with a skimpy overview of current theory and practice and leave you to consider some of the implications for Child and Youth Care practice.
A Light Touch of Theory
Simply stated, a personal boundary refers to the psychological, emotional and physical space we need to experience and express our Selves. Developmentally, it’s that emerging inner sense that makes it possible for us to individuate and create relationships as separate and unique beings. If all goes well, we come to know from one moment to the next if we need more space or more contact. Given the opportunity, we gradually learn to say our real “yeses” and real “no’s, becoming increasingly Self-directed and Self-responsible. But this is a rocky road that very few of us travel without breakdowns along the way.
Conceptually, personal boundaries are the parameters of the Self. In relationships they denote where you end and the other person begins. This may seem like a simple statement but such confusion at the ‘contact boundary’ is very prevalent in human relationships – particularly among professionals who are Hell bent on fixing other people’s lives. By definition, without boundaries, there can be no Self and, of course, no Self connected relationships. Put another way; know boundaries, know Self – know Self, know relationships.
In the rapidly growing field of somatic psychology, personal boundaries are considered to be essentially energetic by nature. In other words, at the core, we sense our way in the world and our needs for connection and separation are experienced as a felt-sense in the body. If we are emotionally attuned and cognitively aware, we understand what the sensations are about and make conscious decisions on our own behalf. If we simply feel the tightening in our guts or the heaviness in our chest, we may react with volatile emotions and aggressive or defensive behaviors. Without awareness, neither we nor those around us, are likely to know we’re dealing with a boundary issue. I can’t help thinking back to all the times kids have blown up at me for no apparent reason and, sensing my own boundaries being crossed, I used my power to impose another invasive assault. I probably called in a ‘natural consequence.’
One problem for parents and professionals is that our boundaries are constantly moving from moment to moment, person to person and situation to situation. Sometimes we want closeness, sometimes we want distance and sometimes we move toward Self-protection. Unless someone knows us well and understands that our shifts are about us and not about them (i.e., they are solidly in their own boundary), the outcome can be a confusing mish-mash of feelings, blame and retaliation. This is particularly the case for those of us who work with kids in structured settings where consistency and predictability are often considered to be cornerstones of effective professional practice. We can’t expect an infant to understand why Mommy said “no” today and “yes” yesterday to the same request for attention. The youngster is the learner and the challenge is for mother to find a way to address her child’s needs without having to sacrifice her own boundaries in the process. And this is precisely the problem the staff of the secure program found themselves up against. In both cases, it’s the task of adults to be very aware of their own boundaries and find ways keep these intact rather than sacrifice their own Selves. In this way, the adult takes on the role of teaching the young person about what it means to have a personal boundary – but this will only work if the child’s own boundaries are also understood and respected. In Child and Youth Care, many of the kids we work with are much like the infant who has never had the opportunity to learn how to create and respect relational boundaries. There are very effective ways for practitioners to address this deficit but, once again, I have to refer to the publications listed earlier.
Slowly Does It
Developing effective personal boundaries is a gradual learning process. At the energetic level, they come naturally. If you don’t believe me, try invading the boundary of a baby and see what happens. But as we grow up and our sense of Self begins to incorporate the physical, emotional and cognitive aspects of our development, the matter of boundaries becomes increasingly complex. From the outset, we need to learn about how the world works. We need to know the expectations – what’s acceptable and what’s unacceptable – and what the consequences are for breaking the rules. If we are fortunate enough to learn these things without the suppression of the Self, we gradually begin to understand that we are capable of making choices on our own behalf – even if we choose to dismiss an expectation or break a particular rule. Being Self-aware means that we understand the choices we make. Being Self-responsible means that we acknowledge our Selves as the central decision maker. And, as the Self creates and expresses its own unique sense of being, so it comes to value its own space and know its own parameters – or boundaries – in seeking to establish relationships with other Selves. Moving under its own momentum, it no longer requires the protection of others or the security of a predictable system — whether that be a family or structured residential program.
As a final comment, I want to make it clear that the developments in the program described in this article occurred because there was a general state of ‘readiness for change.’ The project was initiated because certain staff members felt that their own Selves were being stifled by the proliferation of rules and the overall rigidity of the program. It was their Self energy that moved us forward. We did NOT simply throw out the rulebook. To do so would have been totally irresponsible. In terms of their Self-development, most of the kids (and some of the staff) were still at the stage where the security of a known and predictable structure is a necessary foundation for growth. The process of change was not surgical – it was gradual, sensitive and highly relational. The aim was not to remove a cancer but to edge the system toward its own inherent resources for health. Here’s to yours …
