[Ailist] Has AI been used effectively with teen-agers and drugs[APOLOGIES FOR THE LONG POST]

[Cindy Grant]

Sue,

Thank you for putting into words so eloquently the array of emotions that
just seem to clash together during those first months of grief!  

I believe you are correct in that we can honor the "pain, grief and tradedy
that are part of our human existance"  and yet appreciate the gifts and/or
opportunites they can bring for us to assist others.

I am very interested in following up with the research you mention on
resiliency.   Would you be willing to share your articles?


Cindy



-----Original Message-----
From: ailist-bounces at lists.business.utah.edu
[mailto:ailist-bounces at lists.business.utah.edu] On Behalf Of Sue James
Sent: Tuesday, October 16, 2007 8:24 PM
To: Anna spector
Cc: ailist at lists.business.utah.edu
Subject: Re: [Ailist] Has AI been used effectively with teen-agers and
drugs[APOLOGIES FOR THE LONG POST]

Anna spector wrote:
> Dear AI Community,
>   Yesterday I attended a memorial service for my seventeen year old cousin
who passed away due to an accidental drug overdose.  He was bright,
handsome,cared about the planet, but unfortunately,had an addiction that
claims so many teen-agers each year.  The grief therapist in charge did a
poor job and focused mostly on the tragedy, etc.  Needless to say she took
the laughter out of any conversation we were sharing about the times we
appreciated him.  It was truly a downer.  So, I have been reflecting on AI a
lot and I was curious if anyone had worked with teens involved with drugs
and was AI a powerful enough influence to steer them away from drugs and
into something more productive?   Thank you again for letting me share this.


Dear Anna

Thank you for sharing this story - it is one that I'm sure resonates deeply
with many others on this list, as it did with me.

I don't have experience of using AI with teens specifically in relation to
drug use - though it certainly links closely with other work in which I was
involved for many years that was designed to enhance the resilience of young
people, both in schools and across the community sector. I'm not sure
whether you've come across research and work with resilience? There is a
great deal of information available, based on research and practice over
very many years. I have a huge collection of resources gathered since my
first encounter with the idea back in about 1993. :-)

Some of the best online resources I've found on resilience are listed at
http://www.bjseminars.com.au/linksresil.html
(If you're interested in others, including some excellent articles I have,
please email me off list and I'll be happy to share them.)

I believe that AI is very much linked to the concept of resilience, and it
also reminds us of the fact that it is often within the darkest times that,
paradoxically perhaps, we find the seeds of new hope and growth.

In relation to the above, I wanted to share a personal experience and some
other thoughts - many of which really have been expressed already some time
ago in both the AI or PCC mailing lists. So, being rather short of time this
morning ... :-) .. I thought I'd find those earlier posts of mine and
copy/paste much of the content here. My apologies to people who have read
them already! :-)

Firstly ... in relation to losing someone we love, and the efficacy of
'grief counselling' ... here is a story I shared in this list back in 2005,
with a few amendments/additions. It was then and is now a little scary to
share it in such a public way, but I hope it may resonate with some readers.

At the time, there were several messages and a conversation on the AI list
about healing conversations and how, in the darkest of times, we can also
experience the gifts of appreciation, gratitude and joy. I found myself both
moved by the conversation and inspired to share the following thoughts and
story ...

Death of a loved one is perhaps one of the most profound of dark times,
filled with loss, grief and pain. Yet these are often the times when those
of us who remain share a deep sense of connection and love at the same time.
There can also be moments of laughter and joy, even in the midst of our
grief.

My partner, Glenn, died in June 1999. Tragically, he took his own life and,
for a number of reasons, his body was not found for four days. I won't share
the details of my trip to the coroner's court and the ensuing process I had
to go through to identify his body - suffice to say it was the hardest thing
I have ever had to do, and I hope I never have to experience such a thing
again. Although I had a definite appointment to view and identify Glenn's
body, after I came back out to the foyer I was told that the onsite grief
counsellor was out to lunch and wouldn't be back for at least an hour. I was
hastily given a folder of grief literature, and essentially left to my own
resources.

Fortunately, not only did I have a friend to drive me (I had at least
realised I'd be foolish to try doing that myself) but I also had wonderful
support over the ensuing days, weeks and months from family and friends to
help me through the healing process that I needed.

Also, as the following serves to illustrate, positive conversations and
humour were profoundly important in that healing process. Something that
perhaps, as Anna indicated, I would certainly not have experienced if I'd
gone to a designated 'grief counsellor' at the time!

Glenn's family and I met with the funeral director, as families do at such
times, and were looking at the various brochures and pictures of coffins,
flowers etc. We chose the simplest of coffins ... because Glenn loved making
things with his hands out of wood, and it seemed appropriate to pick one
that was simple but beautiful, just as everything Glenn had made.

Glenn was also a perfectionist about anything he did .... we used to tease
him that anything he made would remain standing after everything else around
it had fallen down. After we'd picked his coffin, his brother quipped ..
"Yep, but if Glenn had made it, there'd be two inch bolts every six inches
all around it!" .. And in the midst of this incredibly painful time, we
found ourselves laughing!

Glenn had also left instructions that he wanted to be cremated, and have his
ashes scattered in the Thompson's River in country Victoria - a place we
used to love going camping. When the funeral director asked us about the
cremation, Glenn's brother-in-law suddenly laughed and said .... "Well, he
wanted to be cremated .. and if we have to go up to Thompson's River, we'll
have to camp ..what do you reckon,  we could 
have a HUGE campfire ........ "   And again, we found ourselves laughing 
together, even extending our conversation to the idea that we could build a
raft and send Glenn's spirit down the river like the Vikings used to do!

This may be what is called "black humour" ... but ours was NOT light-hearted
or disrespectful laughter, that's for sure!  There are no words adequate to
describe our pain and grief at that time. But in the midst of our pain, for
a few moments we were turning our faces from darkness back into the
sunshine. Our laughter was helping us to hold onto our courage with both
hands and start to heal.

Over the following months, there were many moments like this. We shared both
our tears and our laughter, as we talked about the funny things, the great
times, the joy of being with Glenn, as well as our pain and grief at losing
him. For us, these were truly conversations that heal.

To finish the story here, I'll add something I wrote some time later, after
we'd had that trip to Thompsons River to scatter Glenn's ashes in the way he
wanted. Once again, on this trip together, our conversations held both pain
and joy. For me, the fact that we can experience pain and joy, tears and
laughter, at one and the same time is one of those wonderful paradoxes of
our life's journey.

You left instructions.
Thompson's River
near Brunton's Bridge
you said -
so here we are.
Our campfire plays
the last song of a tree
as we talk into the night
and watch the flames dance.
Memories and our love for you
weave through the fabric
of our conversation
like threads of gold.
At midnight,
mystical pivot
of yesterday and tomorrow,
our footsteps echo
on the small wooden bridge.
Silently
in velvet darkness
we stand watching
as torchlight, held steady,
makes your ashes a silver stream
falling softly to the river below
and silvery clouds
drifting on the wind.
For a moment and an eternity
the universe stands still
as earth, air and water
carry you away. "

On to other connected thoughts .. and a more recent conversation in the PCC
list, in which I talked about the idea of resilience in response to a story
shared by Marge Schiller. It is a story about her experience on
9/11 that moved her to change the whole focus to working with children and
young people, rather than with corporations ...

I myself have heard it from [Marge} several times, and am equally moved and
inspired by each re-telling. It is also a story I often share with others,
as I think it embodies the spirit of AI. It is also a wonderful story to
tell to those I encounter who make comments such as: "But doesn't AI ignore
the problems and the negative stuff? How can we deal with those if we don't
talk about them?" :-)

For me this is one of the stories that show AI doesn't 'ignore' the
negatives - the pain, grief and tragedy that are part of our human
existence. Instead, it honours those experiences, and appreciates the gifts
they can bring us - when we look for those gifts.

For me, [Marge's] story captures so beautifully the idea that it is often
within our darkest moments or most shattering experiences where we find the
seeds from which new, and perhaps otherwise unrecognised, possibilities and
hope can emerge.

Paradoxically, we sometimes need to experience fear, anxiety, pain or grief,
in order to find new directions, new hope or a fresh appreciation what is
right in our world.

It's a little akin to the concept of resilience, where being 'knocked out of
our comfort zone' can paradoxically be a good thing if we can reintegrate
that experience in a way that leads to growth.  For those who may be
interested in this idea, I've attached a quick screen capture of a
resilience diagram, developed by Glenn Richardson, from the Uni of Utah,
about 10 years ago. :-)

Or as Kahlil Gibran once said a much longer time ago: "Even as the stone of
the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know
pain" or, another of my favourites "The deeper that sorrow carves into your
being, the more joy you can contain."

Mind you, as Glenn Richardson's diagram indicates, this kind of 'resilient
reintegration' takes 'creativity and work'! It's certainly not always easy
to find those seeds of hope within the darkness, or to find new learning and
growth. And we all can really need a helping hand from others at times. It
can be hard work. At the very least, it can require conscious intent. The
kind of conscious intent we are invited to use within Appreciative Inquiry.

This has been true from my experience anyway, and it resonates very much
with what AI is all about.

And on a lighter note ... I've reckon there's definitely a Cosmic Joker in
the universe, keeping an eye on our various antics.

Just when things are going swimmingly well, and we're sailing along in that
comfort zone, he/she says ... "Oh, so you reckon you've got things sorted do
you? You reckon you know what you're doing and what life's about? ...
Heheheheheh .. Well try THIS one out for size!!"  ... :-)

Once again, I apologise both for the long post  - and for the 'duplicate
content' to those list members who have read it before. However, Anna's post
triggered similar thoughts and reflections for me as those expressed in
these earlier posts, without the time available this morning to re-create or
re-write them. I hope they will still be of relevance to this discussion -
and to others here on the list.

Warmly
Sue

--
Sue James
Facilitator & Consultant
Ph: +613 9758 2528
BJ Seminars International
inspiring and connecting people
www.bjseminars.com.au