by Anne Pleydon
“Yes,” Laura answers and she is finally writing notes down on her paper.
“A very powerful tool to keep in your back pocket is to start a session by saying you’ve been thinking about something they said last time. See? Self-disclosure. But nothing personal.”
Laura nods and continues to write.
Kenny pauses. “He’ll be a good one for you to practice on in terms of motivational interviewing.”
Laura’s eyes grow wide. “Me?”
“Yes, you. I’ll probably stick around for a couple sessions though, okay, and then watch through the observation window. But he’ll be harmless. And then probably refuse to come. Shit, I’m starving. Low blood sugar rage. Is there anything else? Oh, did you read Making Good?”
“Yes, I finished it this morning. It’s really interesting.”
“I know, eh? There hasn’t been a lot of research on the concept of desistance. You know, why people stop committing crimes. We know most of them do, if not at least slow down. So, why does this happen? Can we influence that happening? And if it just happens naturally, then why are we doing this work? That’s why I gave you that book. It’s interesting to think about. That reformed criminals create a narrative for themselves that they were always good, that they were always going to be good but had to go through some challenges and pain along the way. That everything they went through happened to their good self, and they were always good all along, even when the criminal identity is most obvious. These desisters create a narrative around the meaning of what happened to their good self. It allows them then to leave that criminal life with their good selves intact. With a renewed self of purpose to do good. Do you understand? There’s some useful cognitive schema stuff there. We’ll chat later about how to weave some of these concepts into therapy. Also, around how denial doesn’t matter. You can still deliver effective therapy to people who deny their crimes and how denial can be ego-saving and potentially pro-social. We’ll talk about it.”
Laura nods and stands up because Kenny has sprung out of her seat and is heading toward the door. The grad student feels invigorated and exhausted. She is also aware of a strong desire to please Kenny.
Chapter 12
KENNY LEAVES THE ROTUNDA and goes to swipe her card through to the front admin area. She hears the door click before she touches her card and she smiles and waves at the camera. Someone at Front Control must have seen her coming because it definitely wasn’t the staff at School Control today who would do something like that for her. It’s a little thing but makes her feel for a moment that everything is and always will be okay at work. She walks toward Rita smiling broadly and places her coffee mug on the counter.
Rita pushes a tendril of greyish blonde hair back under the hair net and clasps Kenny’s mug with both hands.
Kenny peers back into the kitchen. “Where’s Michelin?”
Rita reaches for the coffee pot. “You’re getting the last legs, Dr. Halpin.”
Kenny shrugs. “I don’t care what it tastes like as long it as has caffeine in it.” She mimes injecting a syringe into her arm.
Rita shakes her head. “I’m putting another one on. I’m not even charging you for this.” She sighs as she hands the steaming mug back to Kenny.
“No kids, today?” Kenny queries.
“No. I’d have Michelin but he’s doing something with the Programming Director this afternoon. They have some gardening project.” Rita motions toward the back of the facility.
“Ah.” Kenny leans against the counter. “They’re going ahead with that?”
“I have no idea. This is not the time to do anything related to gardening. Oh geez, you don’t know. You don’t have plants, do you?”
Kenny winces. “Maybe.”
Rita says, “When’s the last time you watered them?”
“I don’t know, Rita. You know I’m not good with that stuff.”
Rita shakes her head. “Just give them to me.”
“So, no kids for you …”
“I just know that I don’t get any help today. But I’m expected to do just as much.”
“That sucks.”
“You eating?”
“What time do you close?”
“I’m not keeping it open much past the lunch break. So, if you want something, you’re going to have to come back quick.”
“Are they doing the gardening thing right now?”
“Yes, they were asking for gloves. But they’re not using anything from this kitchen!”
“Gloves from the kitchen?”
Rita just shakes her head. “They’ll need their own budget for that. They’re not taking my gloves. I’m short as it is. They’re not even the right kind of gloves. Those kids tried to take lettuce from my kitchen for the damn rabbits once. They tried it once. My budget doesn’t include those rabbits.”
Kenny glances toward Front Control to see who’s on. “Alright, I’m going to check it out. Later, miss!”
Rita nods.
Kenny returns to the Rotunda. She sees that Wolcott is still at School Control with Dunny now and she does not acknowledge them. She hates the tightening in her stomach when she sees those two on shift. Kenny walks to the centre of the Rotunda and faces toward the windows. She sips her coffee and inhales deeply. She has ample view of the field. Outside, beside the Mental Health Unit, she sees Michelin and Cody and a staff standing by bags of soil and two oil drums.
“You seem impressed,” Mara says, suddenly beside her. The slim administrative assistant has her coat on.
“Where are you going? Oh, for a smoke?”
“Have you been watching this?” Mara asks. “I can hear them banging and yelling from my desk. It’s driving me nuts.”
“Why do they need such fucking big drums?” Kenny asks.
“I think they’re pots for plants.”
“Why don’t they just make flower beds?”
“I think they are. The drums are pots so they can’t throw them around. McDonough is worried about projectiles. I heard him going off earlier.”
“Really?”
“This is really stupid,” Mara says.
“I know nothing about plants but this should be done in the Spring right? It’s going to snow soon.”
Mara shrugs. “I think they’re just setting things up.”
“What was the banging?”
“They have rocks to weigh the bottom of drums. To make false bottoms. And then fill the rest with soil. I can’t get anything done. All I hear is Cody and Michelin swearing. That kid Michelin just talks and talks. I need a break.”
“I understand why they want to make things pretty for all the visiting dignitaries and royalty that come through here on a regular basis, but those drums are dangerous. And rocks! That’s unbelievably stupid.”
Mara snorts. “Well, they’re huge rocks. They could barely lift them.”
“But still. Oh my god, look at this guy! Michelin, no!”
Mara laughs, “That kid cracks me up.”
Michelin has pushed one of the drums on its side. His arms are stretched to grip the top and bottom of the drum.
Mara says, “He’s going to try and lift it. And break his back.”
Kenny sees the nurse entering the Rotunda and waves her over. She is a portly woman with grey hair at her temples and black sensible shoes. “What’s so funny?” the nurse asks.
“Karen, you’ll be seeing this one in Healthcare in about 5 minutes.”
“Oh, no I won’t. I tell them if they pull their muscles weightlifting or other nonsense than I’m not seeing them.”
Mara squints. “Is that Derek? Who’s the staff? Shouldn’t he be stopping them?”
“He’s telling them to bend their knees!” Kenny says.
“Oh, Jesus,” Karen remarks.
The three of them watch Michelin struggling to lift the drum. He is unable to lift it much off the ground.
“Is it that heavy?” Kenny asks.
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“He filled it with the rocks already,” Mara comments.
Kenny replies, “This is real gifted school stuff happening here.” And Mara and Karen are giggling.
They see Cody nudge Michelin out of the way. The staff and Michelin start loading the second drum with potting soil. Cody stands next to the drum that is on its side. He rolls up his sleeves.
“He needs to show everyone that he’s cut,” Kenny says. Cody glances round and sees the three of them through the window and then squats next to the drum. “Oh no. He’s in heaven now because he knows we’re watching.”
Cody hesitates, takes a deep breath, and hikes the drum on to his thighs. He exhales. Then inhales again and gets his arms under it and jerks the drum up on to his chest.
“Oh, shit,” Kenny says.
Karen shakes her head and looks back at School Control and then back at the field. “Well, I’m not watching this. I’ll be in Healthcare.”
“Is the doc in today?”
“No, she comes tomorrow.”
“Do you know how to treat a hernia?” Kenny asks as Karen walks away. The nurse does not answer her.
Kenny and Mara watch as Cody tries to lift the drum over his head and then drops in on the ground. The noise is loud and the staff reprimands him. Cody gestures that he doesn’t know what happened.
“Oh no, it’s not a projectile or anything,” Kenny says.
“Good thing McDonough didn’t see that,” Mara answers.
“Yeah, but still, that wasn’t bad. Cody’s pretty strong.”
“All these kids do is work out in the gym,” Mara says. “Anyway, I need to go for my break. Let me know if anything happens.”
Kenny stretches her back then folds one arm cross her chest bringing her coffee to her lips. Cody places the oil drum upright and he and the staff position it next to the other one next to the Mental Health Unit door. They reach for the bags of soil and start pouring it into the drum. The staff steps away to let Michelin and Cody finish and the youth pack the soil in tight.
Chapter 13
KENNY RESTS HER CHEEK on her fist as she refreshes her email. After her smoke break, Mara pops her head in the door and says, “Oh, by the way, Kenny, Lana has been trying to get a hold of you, eh? She’s called here a couple times this morning.”
Kenny frowns. “Why?”
“She made a comment that you don’t seem to respond to email.”
“What?”
“She really wants to meet with you this afternoon.”
“What about?”
“Dr. Mull isn’t here this afternoon, so maybe there’s an emergency?”
Kenny logs off her computer and leaves the Mental Health Unit. In the corridor, she passes Baird leaving the front Admin Unit. She assumes he must have been in to see the Super, because he is rarely off unit in the middle of a shift.
“What the hell are you doing over here?” she asks.
“Okay,” he says, and does not stop as he continues toward the Rotunda.
Kenny fobs her way into Admin. She greets the staff there warmly, especially her favourite, Donna, the plump red-haired woman with bright red lipstick.
Kenny knocks on the open door of Lana Clearwater’s office. Lana is a large woman with long dyed blonde hair. She wears a maroon long sweater over an ankle-length flowered skirt. Her office is exceptionally tidy. Kenny counts at least 5 ceramic angels placed around the room. Kenny tries to disguise her feelings as her lips curl in disgust. She notes that Lana does not look up at her right away even though Kenny is certain Lana knows she is standing there.
Kenny says, with a stiff smile, “You wanted to meet with me? Now? Or is there another time that works?”
Lana clicks something on her computer. Her grey eyes settling on Kenny’s face. She folds her hands together on the desk. “Now is good. Close the door.”
Kenny inhales deeply, shuts the doors, and sits in one of the chairs. Her face is tense but her eyes are locked on Lana.
Lana says, “Since I’ve taken on this position I’ve tried getting updates from you and have you attend Rounds but you seem to dismiss my emails.”
Kenny’s back tenses immediately. “We have Rounds?”
Lana leans back. “Well, I would appreciate meetings with Dr. Mull and the rest of the mental health team and healthcare for updates about clinical issues in the centre.”
“Clinical rounds,” Kenny repeats. “You mean a team meeting? Rounds is something different and management wouldn’t be there.”
Lana purses her lips. “Meetings to discuss clinical issues in the facility.”
“Well, half the team is on mat leave, so we haven’t been holding formalized meetings like that. And I’m not sure what the state of our Rounds was before everyone left.”
“I thought it was best that we continue regardless and had hoped you would play an active role in that.”
Kenny cocks her head. She tries to recall what emails she has received from Lana Clearwater recently but she is drawing a blank. She says, “We’ve always had a hard time getting people on board for things like that. It’s difficult to organize. And no one knows who is in charge or who we’re supposed to be reporting to.”
“Yes, well, I’m sure you understand the importance of us maintaining standards regardless of our counts. And you report to Dr. Mull who reports to me.”
“Administratively.”
“I’m not sure I understand what distinction you’re trying to make.”
“Clinically, I report to Dr. Mull. You cannot supervise me clinically,” Kenny states.
Lana’s eyes narrow. “Perhaps I should ask Donna to send you an org chart because I’m certain this has been discussed with you in the past.”
“Okay.” Kenny can feel that Lana wants her to say something else but the psychologist remains silent.
Lana continues, “I know Dr. Mull is your supervisor so the updates from him have been sufficient for now but on a go forward basis it’s important we get back on track.”
“Okay.”
“You sound uncertain. He is the Clinical Director, is he not?”
“Well, supervision means something different to me. Things are unclear. Mental Health has always run fairly independently from the Justice side. We used to have our own manager and now that’s gone. And Dr. Mull, and healthcare have always reported separately to the Super. We’ve had a lot of change.”
“It hasn’t changed. I am the Manager. My position as Director of Programming encompasses all justice, mental health, and health programs. All programs report to me and I report to the Super.”
“Okay.”
“You still seem skeptical.”
Kenny gives an awkward smile. “It’s just different.”
“Well, it’s not really that different, Kenny. I’ve been in this position for a year now. And as I’ve said I’ve attempted to get updates from you and you have not been forthcoming.”
Kenny now feels obligated to explain herself. She does not like any insinuation that she is not accessible and completely focused on her work. “I actually thought you were asking to meet me if I needed anything. And I don’t. I didn’t. So, I would just say no thanks. I honestly didn’t realize you were asking to meet with me.”
Lana pushes herself away from her desk and folds her hands on her lap. “I’m sure it comes as no surprise that there is going to be a major re-structuring here. Mental Health Services is under review; not only individual employees, but the future of the service as a whole.”
Kenny frowns. “What do you mean as a whole?”
“It’s very well possible that this facility will become a clinical one, at the very least, have specialized clinical units recognized by the district.”
“It’s had clinical units before.”
“They weren’t accredited and we didn’t take kids out of the catchment area.”
“What do you mean? Like a treatment facility? Inpatient?”
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nbsp; “We won’t get a hospital designation. Not yet anyway. But, we can be recognized as a facility that specializes in criminal youth with mental disorders.”
“Wow.” But Kenny does not feel excitement.
“Yes, it’s exciting. And the timing works considering the potential change in government. We will very likely fall under Children’s Services within the year.”
Kenny’s eyes widen. “Do people know this?”
Lana looks briefly behind her and out the window on to the front parking lot and then back at Kenny. “I looked at your personnel file under the old management and have had input from Dr. Mull and your colleagues.”
“About?”
“We will probably do a lot more hiring and I want to make sure that everyone is a good fit in a new program. I would like to share my impression of you.”
Kenny feels as though the breath has been knocked out of her. “How could you have an impression of me? You don’t even know me.”
“I’ve worked here for many years.”
“On the justice side, you don’t know what I do.”
“Kenny, I come from a social work background. I’ve worked in mental health for many years. I’m very much aware of what you do.”
Kenny does not respond. Her face is flat and she clenches her jaw.
Lana continues, “I know that you’re popular with some of the staff here but, quite honestly, I have concerns about fit.”
Kenny furrows her eyebrows.
Lana touches a file on her desk but does not open it. “I’ve read emails that you’ve sent to management in the past. Honestly, the language you used was shocking to me.”
Kenny searches the recesses of her mind. She feels as though she is taking an exam and did not study. Memories start to slowly re-surface. “Oh, I know what that was and that was years ago. She did something unfair to me and I responded. And she apologized. Is her apology in the file?”
“There is no excuse for that language toward a manager. I’m not sure if this email and the way you’ve been responding to me are indicative of a general attitude toward management. If you have a problem with management, I can’t even send you back to community justice because managers are everywhere.”
