All-day counselling training session today; I was tired as shit (alcohol and sleep don't mix, even in small quantities) and struggling to take an interest. That was, until we got into the self-criticism/group criticism scenario. It's week 8 of the course, more than half-way, so it was time to take stock. What were our strengths? Weaknesses? Plans to overcome the weaknesses? This would have been fine, if it hadn't been a group situation. Sitting in a circle, waiting for our turns to present ourselves critically before the court of public opinion, it felt a little Communist - on the surface, a chance for views to be expressed openly, tips offered for skill tweaking. Underneath, a sea of rising tension, flowing around the group as eyes swivelled to the new nexus. In our group, there's a dissatisfied housewife doing something for herself for a change (although, ironically, through helping people), 30-40, 15y-o kid, touches you when she speaks to you or makes a joke, sensitive, smily; her turn came, and the tension exploded - the more we heaped compliments, the more the tears welled, until one well-intended comment - 'you started off a bit unsure, but your empathy is really shining through now' - set off tears, and we, the awkward public/participants, dawdled, hemmed and hawed, fled the room. In the aftermath, a knot gathered in the tea room, trying to unpick what had just happened; we're still strangers, strangers who share intimacies for an hour a week, but strangers nonetheless.
Back in the room, my turn in the spotlight arrives and passes painlessly. One of our trainers comments that I've got a fierce inner critic, like her, and that gives me a good level of self-awareness; it turns out most of us in the class have one, a scathing internal dialogue riding our backs and commenting on our lives. I think about this: effectively, my self-critic immunised me from the external criticism. I discount outside criticisms because I feel that I've already done the job, I know myself intimately, without rose-tints. My thought process goes on: Other people can't know me as well as I do, so their views aren't particularly useful. Of course, that's not true all the time - every now and again, someone points out another previously imperceptible (to me) faultline.
The trainers put themselves under the same spotlight, but of course, no-one offers any 'constructive' criticism; the compliments are glowing. I've enjoyed the course and I feel it's been well taught, but I kept quiet. Last week, a friend in the course quit; after one class, she was approached by the trainers, and one in particular let her have it. You're not pulling your weight; you're not contributing to the group, you'll really have to pull your socks up. Shocked, feeling isolated, she quit, disillusioned with the way the trainers - presumably good, empathic counsellors when on the phone - targetted her and made her feel inadequate. Sure, she's shy, but she could have been a good counsellor. Maybe there's more I don't know, but when the trainers told us she had quit, they offered unknown personal reasons for her departure. So I was tempted to bring it up as the trainers critiqued themselves, but wasn't prepared to do so in a group situation. I still don't know whether to tackle them on the topic; I trust my friend, but I don't know her that well, and I don't know the trainers that well either. We'll see.
More thinking as the day wraps up, and I talk to an older woman in my course, someone who I had not previously paid much attention to; I knew she was overly anxious about the course, frantically studious with her homework (all the adults were, funnily enough - unfamiliarity with study), in her mid 60's, the type of person I don't think of as having a past; she's always been this way, I can't picture her life outside grandchildren. We talk about HECS, of all things, and she unfolds before me, delivers a tight political commentary, refers to her past as a Whitlamite free educatee, and my perceptions are changed. It's disturbing - I used to pride myself on not simplifying my thinking about people by using their class/age/sex/ethnicity as funnels to an easy end-point, and here I am, challenged and awed by the death of a bad assumption. I don't know how I think old people got old; perhaps by bypassing real life and heading straight for gnarled faces, exchanging life for timelessness.
Back in the room, my turn in the spotlight arrives and passes painlessly. One of our trainers comments that I've got a fierce inner critic, like her, and that gives me a good level of self-awareness; it turns out most of us in the class have one, a scathing internal dialogue riding our backs and commenting on our lives. I think about this: effectively, my self-critic immunised me from the external criticism. I discount outside criticisms because I feel that I've already done the job, I know myself intimately, without rose-tints. My thought process goes on: Other people can't know me as well as I do, so their views aren't particularly useful. Of course, that's not true all the time - every now and again, someone points out another previously imperceptible (to me) faultline.
The trainers put themselves under the same spotlight, but of course, no-one offers any 'constructive' criticism; the compliments are glowing. I've enjoyed the course and I feel it's been well taught, but I kept quiet. Last week, a friend in the course quit; after one class, she was approached by the trainers, and one in particular let her have it. You're not pulling your weight; you're not contributing to the group, you'll really have to pull your socks up. Shocked, feeling isolated, she quit, disillusioned with the way the trainers - presumably good, empathic counsellors when on the phone - targetted her and made her feel inadequate. Sure, she's shy, but she could have been a good counsellor. Maybe there's more I don't know, but when the trainers told us she had quit, they offered unknown personal reasons for her departure. So I was tempted to bring it up as the trainers critiqued themselves, but wasn't prepared to do so in a group situation. I still don't know whether to tackle them on the topic; I trust my friend, but I don't know her that well, and I don't know the trainers that well either. We'll see.
More thinking as the day wraps up, and I talk to an older woman in my course, someone who I had not previously paid much attention to; I knew she was overly anxious about the course, frantically studious with her homework (all the adults were, funnily enough - unfamiliarity with study), in her mid 60's, the type of person I don't think of as having a past; she's always been this way, I can't picture her life outside grandchildren. We talk about HECS, of all things, and she unfolds before me, delivers a tight political commentary, refers to her past as a Whitlamite free educatee, and my perceptions are changed. It's disturbing - I used to pride myself on not simplifying my thinking about people by using their class/age/sex/ethnicity as funnels to an easy end-point, and here I am, challenged and awed by the death of a bad assumption. I don't know how I think old people got old; perhaps by bypassing real life and heading straight for gnarled faces, exchanging life for timelessness.
posted by Doug @ 5/29/2004 11:52:00 am
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