Friday again, and an open day ahead of me. I have planned a meal, I have two good books to read, I've been for a 3 1/2 km walk, and Beatrix has shaved my head. Is it nap time yet?
I've pondering a chunk of my life that I thought I'd tell you about. For almost 30 years, I was a hospital chaplain, a teaching supervisor of pastoral care students and a family therapist - did some teaching there, too. I worked a lot in psychiatry and critical care, and for three memorable years, I was attached to the ALS clinic (Lou Gehrig's Disease). I was a very busy guy…pathologically busy, some would say.
As I walked yesterday, I was remembering the students I supervised over that long period. I have no idea how many there were. They would come for three months in the summer, or for six months, art time over the winter. For a number of years I had stipended residents, who came for almost a full year. Many of them were very bright, deeply compassionate, and keen to learn the arts of listening an entering deeply into people's pain.
I all that time, I remember only two students who were major problems in my life, and with whom I feel like a failure. One was with me for the summer of 1979, the other I worked with in a post-retirement pastoral appointment four years ago.
The 1979 student was a recently retired Canadian Army Captain, entering into ministry as a second career. He was hard bitten and suspicious to the point of paranoia, and into power in a big way. Looking back, it was clear that he had never recovered from military life. Face to face, he would never disagree with me, or even challenge me in a group. His rational, when questioned? "A Captain never challenges a Colonel." The military model of authority was in his bones, and he never lost it. In informal student groups, he complained about me all the time, and spoke of me in very derogatory ways. But never once to my face. At the end of the unit, at evaluation time, when nothing was at stake, he was open.
"I care not a whit for your evaluation of me. I only want to know what the real staff had to say about me." That's how we parted. I have the sense that by now, he is a bishop somewhere, playing God and making some one's life miserable. As one of my old supervisors from the 70"s used to say, "I never laid a glove on him." Amen to that!
The second "difficult" student came into my life just a few years ago. He was assigned to the pastoral charge to which I was appointed for a one year stint. He was, and is, without doubt, one of the most gifted men I have met. Musically he is without parallel. He plays piano, and organ, composes and directs musical superbly. He is also incredibly charming. People tend to love him easily, and on occasion, he has taken advantage of that two push the relationship farther along. Twice married, twice divorced, with a number of affairs along the way. BUT… "he could talk the monkeys out of the trees," as one of my colleagues put it.
The dark part is that he is also very manipulative, and can become a bully when his charm doesn't work - which is seldom. Needless to say, the people on the pastoral charge loved him, and saw in him their long-term saviour. I was appointed year by year, and was ready to leave at the end of the appointment year (June), and they hoped he would be ordained and settled with them. During the year, as he was musical director for a local production, he fell in love with the director - a married woman with three almost grown children. Shortly they moved in together, blowing her family sky-high.
In my evaluation of him, I logged every single of his gifts and successes, but also commented on the change in his personal life.His rage was frightening. I set about to stop his ordination, having learned a good deal more about his past. The sum total of the picture is that I felt this man was a "soft" sociopath, a person who will go to great lengths to get his way, with little or no concern about who gets hurt along the way. Of course, being a marvellous performer, and swam through to ordination and settlement without a major hitch. He is still in the same community, and they still love him. But I feel confident that one day, the bubble will burst, and trouble will ensue.
How this affects me is simple. The man remains enraged with me and with the fact that he could not sweet talk me into overlooking his shortcomings. His revenge has been to paint me in terrible ways to the congregation, to undermine my character and my work. He has been so successful at this, that when I encounter locals from that community, they "can't see me," and refuse to speak to me. I gather this is typical behaviour from a sociopathic personality.
In many ways this has been one of the prime learning experiences of my life, unfortunately coming too late for me to make much use of it as a teacher. And it has been painful. I sometimes wonder if there was any way that I could have dealt with the situation better. But of course I am thinking of "how to avoid the pain." Which isn't the real point. The real point is, how does one protect an institution or a community from a person with such great skill at setting people up for pain?
I'm sure that any teacher who reads this will be able to think of at least one student who caused them grief, even endless grief. My heart goes out to you.
I've pondering a chunk of my life that I thought I'd tell you about. For almost 30 years, I was a hospital chaplain, a teaching supervisor of pastoral care students and a family therapist - did some teaching there, too. I worked a lot in psychiatry and critical care, and for three memorable years, I was attached to the ALS clinic (Lou Gehrig's Disease). I was a very busy guy…pathologically busy, some would say.
As I walked yesterday, I was remembering the students I supervised over that long period. I have no idea how many there were. They would come for three months in the summer, or for six months, art time over the winter. For a number of years I had stipended residents, who came for almost a full year. Many of them were very bright, deeply compassionate, and keen to learn the arts of listening an entering deeply into people's pain.
I all that time, I remember only two students who were major problems in my life, and with whom I feel like a failure. One was with me for the summer of 1979, the other I worked with in a post-retirement pastoral appointment four years ago.
The 1979 student was a recently retired Canadian Army Captain, entering into ministry as a second career. He was hard bitten and suspicious to the point of paranoia, and into power in a big way. Looking back, it was clear that he had never recovered from military life. Face to face, he would never disagree with me, or even challenge me in a group. His rational, when questioned? "A Captain never challenges a Colonel." The military model of authority was in his bones, and he never lost it. In informal student groups, he complained about me all the time, and spoke of me in very derogatory ways. But never once to my face. At the end of the unit, at evaluation time, when nothing was at stake, he was open.
"I care not a whit for your evaluation of me. I only want to know what the real staff had to say about me." That's how we parted. I have the sense that by now, he is a bishop somewhere, playing God and making some one's life miserable. As one of my old supervisors from the 70"s used to say, "I never laid a glove on him." Amen to that!
The second "difficult" student came into my life just a few years ago. He was assigned to the pastoral charge to which I was appointed for a one year stint. He was, and is, without doubt, one of the most gifted men I have met. Musically he is without parallel. He plays piano, and organ, composes and directs musical superbly. He is also incredibly charming. People tend to love him easily, and on occasion, he has taken advantage of that two push the relationship farther along. Twice married, twice divorced, with a number of affairs along the way. BUT… "he could talk the monkeys out of the trees," as one of my colleagues put it.
The dark part is that he is also very manipulative, and can become a bully when his charm doesn't work - which is seldom. Needless to say, the people on the pastoral charge loved him, and saw in him their long-term saviour. I was appointed year by year, and was ready to leave at the end of the appointment year (June), and they hoped he would be ordained and settled with them. During the year, as he was musical director for a local production, he fell in love with the director - a married woman with three almost grown children. Shortly they moved in together, blowing her family sky-high.
In my evaluation of him, I logged every single of his gifts and successes, but also commented on the change in his personal life.His rage was frightening. I set about to stop his ordination, having learned a good deal more about his past. The sum total of the picture is that I felt this man was a "soft" sociopath, a person who will go to great lengths to get his way, with little or no concern about who gets hurt along the way. Of course, being a marvellous performer, and swam through to ordination and settlement without a major hitch. He is still in the same community, and they still love him. But I feel confident that one day, the bubble will burst, and trouble will ensue.
How this affects me is simple. The man remains enraged with me and with the fact that he could not sweet talk me into overlooking his shortcomings. His revenge has been to paint me in terrible ways to the congregation, to undermine my character and my work. He has been so successful at this, that when I encounter locals from that community, they "can't see me," and refuse to speak to me. I gather this is typical behaviour from a sociopathic personality.
In many ways this has been one of the prime learning experiences of my life, unfortunately coming too late for me to make much use of it as a teacher. And it has been painful. I sometimes wonder if there was any way that I could have dealt with the situation better. But of course I am thinking of "how to avoid the pain." Which isn't the real point. The real point is, how does one protect an institution or a community from a person with such great skill at setting people up for pain?
I'm sure that any teacher who reads this will be able to think of at least one student who caused them grief, even endless grief. My heart goes out to you.
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ReplyDeleteI know the charming sociopath/psychopath type you describe... they charm so many, and destroy the lives of a few - be glad you are harmed so little in fact by him. We all get burned sometime by this type of person! As for being his teacher - you did your best - that type cannot be "fixed" by a teacher or anyone else. That is perhaps the main learning - some people can't be helped or avoided or stopped. Too bad. That sorrow is part of us too... Donna
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