WINDOWSILL SPRING 2011
Using the Oaklander Model with "Quirky" Children
By Claire Mercurio
They ask me if they can take their shoes off. They notice subtle changes in my office, week to week. Even at age 12 or 13, they will bring beloved stuffed animals to therapy sessions. They are often described as “on the autistic spectrum,” or diagnosed with “Aspergers.” They are delightful. The children I am talking about have some typical responses to the Oaklander model. Over the years I have found myself adapting the model to their needs and abilities. In this article I would like to highlight what I have found most useful.
Violet talks about “meeting the child where he/she is.” This is especially important when working with a “quirky” child. (I like the word “quirky.” I find it to be descriptive but not offensive – and in fact, appealing. You may differ, so please substitute your own word if mine is not meaningful to you). These children have difficulty entering our sphere of experience, but are amazingly proficient at sharing theirs. Wherever they are, there I go. They often bring favorite items (usually stuffed animals or collectibles) into therapy, and I always begin with these: who is that? Tell me about him/her/it. What do you like about him/her/it? How are you similar to him/her/it? (This last question can be hard for them to answer, but is worth asking – sometimes I offer suggestions)
Although most “highly sensitive people” are not on the autistic spectrum, most people on the spectrum are “highly sensitive.” This means that their danger response is heightened. What is tolerable to most people is simply not tolerable to them. Imagine that someone gently touching your arm feels as though you were locked in a phone booth in a bathing suit with ants crawling all over you. Not too pleasant. This can create a situation wherein the child shuts down to sensory experience in general.
Violet talks a lot about expanding a child’s sensory awareness, and quirky children benefit greatly from this work. Clay, smelly markers and pencils, music, tactile activities – these can all be worthwhile. Quirky children tend to have definite likes and dislikes in the sensory arena (actually, in most arenas!). Being respectful of this is essential.
Children “on the spectrum” often have significant social skills deficits. Violet talks about the importance of “contact functions” and the “I-Thou” experience as described by Martin Buber. I want the quirky children I work with to see me as a meaningful person in their lives: we share games, art activities, and silliness (what joy it is to discover a quirky child’s funny bone!); I relate events in my life with events in theirs; I attempt eye contact. Often I feel like a sounding board of anonymity with these children, so when “contact” occurs, it is quite special.
Most parents of quirky children are exasperated. Their children are stubborn and prone to tantrums. The parents believe their child is behaving poorly on purpose, and take it personally. It is important to help parents understand how their child navigates the world, and to realize that the long-term prognosis is good: with encouragement and understanding, quirky children tend to get better and better. They figure out how to manage/avoid sensory assaults; they find avenues for their interests, and people who appreciate their gifts. As therapists, we need to help these children graduate high school with hope and the knowledge that they are important – and then I believe they will soar.
I enjoy entering the world of video heroes and stuffed animals and various and sundry inanimate objects. I enjoy listening to a quirky child’s detailed descriptions of the obsession of the moment. I enjoy offering parents the bright side of what has frequently been a discouraging road. I enjoy making contact when it appears contact is not likely to be made. I enjoy quirky children.
Working with Seniors Using the Oaklander Model
By Lesley Cruz
The beauty of seeing the Oaklander Method work with children is powerful enough, but to watch someone 96 years old pick up crayons and pastels is really moving! I worked for a health insurance company recently for nearly one year. My clients were referred to me by the seniors’ primary care physicians. Only about 15% of my population was not over 65. The average age of my clients was the mid 70s. I was 31 at the time. It was a privilege to work with them.
I was initially hesitant to use drawing and other more physical methods with my senior clients because of physical or health limitations such as visual impairment or arthritis. In many cases my senior clients told me that they hadn’t picked up crayons and pastels since they were children. However, I know how powerful it is to be able talk and how helpful drawing can be to get to the heart of difficult emotions like grief and depression, so I got out my crayons and paper. Some of the seniors I worked with were able to create really profound expressions on paper. Some of them found their work with drawing to be so helpful that they later bought crayons to use at home. I was told that drawing with their grandchildren was deeper and more fun for them because of their renewed appreciation for drawing. The grandkids were delighted, and exclaimed, “Grandma you like to do this, too?!” Being comfortable with drawing gave them the chance to sit down and bond with their grandkids in a way that they hadn’t before.
Sometimes I have had to do special accommodations physically for the seniors. I had an easel and they could sit on a chair that could be height accommodated to them. I tell them, as Violet does, that it’s not important to make their drawing look good or be accurate. This helps them relax and have fun, thereby allowing the quality of their expression when they started talking to be deeper and easier when they spoke as an animal or a blob they had just drawn. Even so, several were surprised and delighted with the beauty of what they drew A woman in her late 60’s talked a lot about her overall life fears and insecurities which she traced back to childhood. I asked her to “floatback” to her childhood and draw the most toxic part of when her fears began. She drew herself as a happy child in a playground at dusk, a red-eyed monster spying on her behind a tree, and her highly anxious mother repeatedly warning her the Devil would come and eat her if nightfall came upon her. On this occasion, I did not have her be the swings nor the tree. Her drawing had expressed such detail of the disturbance of having “seen the devil as a child”, detail she had never told anyone, that I felt that expression was enough. She also realized her mother had programmed her to obey by using terror tactics. This drawing reminded me of the words of a former supervisor: “Children are expert observers, yet poor interpreters."
Several of my senior clients were so desperate due to their depression that they were willing to try anything. When I asked them to draw, they would say, “If you say so Miss Cruz.” (I told them to call me Lesley but they preferred to call me Miss Cruz). I found that, not very different from working with children and adults, the seniors’ issues were mostly from childhood. Working with their childhood issues made their 5 marriages, their lost children, etc. make more sense to them I found that I could work in a way that is not possible with children or some adults as I consistently discovered that the seniors were not resistant to the concept that their issues, for example, with their husband or their father. In many cases they had had that insight without any therapy experience. I was reminded often that I was dealing with a generation that either had believed that therapy was not widely available or believed that therapy was not for people like them. One client told me that when they were younger they thought that therapy was for Hollywood stars and the rich. They were very open and had deep insights. This is a very compliant population. I found this surprising because while adults sometimes say yes and then have excuses why they didn’t do their between session experiments to maximize therapy benefits, 90% of my senior clients did their homework. They considered their homework assignments as serious as taking their medications.
I worked with a 67 year old woman with schizophrenia. She displayed significant magical thinking along with what I would consider visual hallucinations (butterflies and fairies in the room and such). Her drawings were amazing! She loved out of session experiments (aka: homework). I asked her to do drawings at home and she would bring them into her next session. She also liked to talk a lot so at these times I highlighted and underlined her process and how she interrupted herself. I used both drawings and Native American animal cards with her. She once brought in a Mandala Clock drawing with different images of her interacting with her numerous siblings as a child. It was through connecting with childhood memories during her dialogue as a baby whale in one of her drawings that she realized she had been overfed by her older siblings in an effort to protect her for the sexual abuse the older siblings were experiencing from their father.
One woman’s visual impairment was fairly severe. She liked drawing but it was a lot physical strain for her so I used Native American Animal cards with her. I introduced the cards to a woman in her 80’s and asked her to choose three cards, one to describe her past, another to represent her present situation, and third to display how she would like to be in the future. After completing the delightful task of giving a voice to her animal cards and talking about her life as an Owl, a Dragonfly, and an Eagle, she told me about her frustrations, her generational family history, and her difficulty in being legally and morally acknowledged by her Native American tribe and heritage.
One gentleman told me, referring to the current economy, “The real depression was after the crash of ’29. The depression people are whining about now is a joke compared to what we went through!" I worked with WWII veterans, children of both the holocausts in Europe, and the Holocaust that Cambodia suffered in 1975 that is not spoken about. As a history buff, it was an almost surreal experience to compare viewing an historical documentary or reading a book with the more profoundly personal experience of talking to someone who had actually lived through that same time in history! Hearing my client’s personal experiences of times and events I had learned about through books & films was life altering and I feel very privileged to have had this opportunity.
I worked with a veteran with very intense post traumatic stress disorder. "Which war?” you ask? He had lived through and survived the Vietnam War and Desert Storm, and has only recently been discharged after his last tour of duty in Iraqi Freedom. I found it helpful both to me and my clients that I am a veteran myself. However, I never served during wartime and thus I never saw a hostile enemy up close. I often used the lines of one of my master trainers, Bob Resnick of the Los Angeles Gestalt Institute, “I’m the expert in the therapy process, but you are the expert in your life experience. I can’t do my job without you, nor you without me.” This client became my tour guide of his journeys, as did so many others.
I worked with a woman in her 80s who was bipolar and had had severe depressive episodes for over 6 months. She wanted me to figure out what her dream meant. I told her, “I can’t figure out what your dream means, but I can help you decode your dream.” I asked her to draw her dream. She drew a couch in the desert and a huge frame above the couch. I asked her to talk to me as if she were the couch. She said, “I am a very used, old couch, and I need a home. I am in good condition and still serviceable.” I asked if any of this fit for her and the tears began to flow. She had lost her home as a result of gambling during her manic episodes. She was looking for affordable housing. She was also dealing with feeling old and useless and told me, “I don’t want to be a burden on my daughter but I can’t help it.” I asked her, “Does your dream make sense now?” “Oh, yes,” she said. She left my office empowered to work with her challenges and with a genuine smile.
I was impacted deeply by this work. These clients were 3 times my age. Because they grew up in a very different era than I did, I dealt with not only a generation gap, but also with a cultural gap. Contrary to my previous belief, only in the first or second session did my age and the generation gap come up. It was such a gift to use the model with the seniors. I use a lot of Violet’s methods with clients of all ages. The simplicity and the impact on people is amazing to witness, let alone to be privileged to coach people through it. Currently I am working with victims of violent crime using Violet’s work. I work with kids, adolescents and adults. My goal is to be an ambassador for the Oaklander method. I see the Oaklander Method as a movement, not just as a theoretical stance. I want to continue building this movement and eventually train others in the Oaklander method.
Working with Children and Adolescents in London
Photos by Jon Blend
Greetings, friends and colleagues from across the pond! My second annual Working with Children and Adolescents week -long course at the Gestalt Centre, London UK (www.gestaltcentre.co.uk) last week drew fifteen participants from a wide range of backgrounds. All were keen to learn more about Gestalt and in particular the Oaklander approach to child therapy. These pictures, taken on the last day, show us enjoying a farewell ‘potluck’ lunch together after a fun, exploratory session of improvising music. Truly a relational, experience –rich week both for participants and for me as tutor-here’s to the next! Warmly, Jon Blend, London.
Please send your questions for Dr. Oaklander to email@example.com
Do you pay attention to children’s dreams in your work? What’s your theory of dreams in general?
I chose this question from a large pile of questions I have because I think this is a neglected subject. The dreams of children give us many opportunities to delve into the inner life of the child. As a Gestalt therapist, I avoid making interpretations but hope that the child can make statements about his/her life and self as we work on the dream. I believe that the dream is a projection of the child’s view of the world hidden often in symbolic and exaggerated pictures and language. It is like deciphering a puzzle; it is fun! And interesting to make sense of it. To own the message of the dream enhances and strengthens the sense of self.
Here are some examples of dream work:
I was seeing a four-year –old due to his many symptoms of anxiety. He had improved greatly and we were coming to the end of our sessions. At the very last session his Mother urged him to tell me about the scary dream he had the night before. He told me that in the dream he lived in a house with both parents. [ Jason’s (not his real name) parents had never married and had lived separately all his life. They had joint custody and were very devoted to him. He spent one week with Mom and one week with Dad.} In the dream, he was sleeping in his room and both parents came in, woke him up, and threw him out of the house. It was raining hard. A big bird then came and picked him up with its beak and flew away. He woke up very frightened and ran to his mother’s room. “I didn’t like that dream,” he said.
I suggested that we make the dream out of clay. I used a large lump of clay for the house (with Jason’s permission) and indentations for his parents’ room and his room. We both made little figures to represent his parents and himself and placed them in their rooms.
“O.K.”, I said, “both your parents come into your room.” I picked up the clay parents and marched them into Jason’s room. “If they could talk, what do they say?” (In the dream they didn’t speak.)
Jason said, “they say “we’re gonna throw you out!’”
“What do you say, if you could talk?: I said.
He shouted, :”No no!!” The clay figures pick him up and toss him outside the clay house. “It’s raining,” he said.
“Then what happened ?” I asked.
“You have to make a big bird, so I quickly fashioned a bird.
“He picks me up and flies away with me! Then I woke up. I didn’t like that dream,” He repeated.
I said, “Let’s change the dream!!” Jason though that was a good idea. Again everyone was back in their rooms and I walked the parent figures to Jason’s room, saying, “We’re gonna throw you out!”
“ Jason, what could you say now that would be different?”
Jason thought for a moment. “Go back to bed!” he shouted, and the parents obediently went back to their room.
I said, “What about the bird?”
“We have to kill the bird,” he answered. He picked up a rubber mallet (always available with the clay) and vehemently smashed the bird. His smile was wide and he said, “OK that’s enough. Can we play something before I have to go home?”
As I got out the game he pointed to, I casually said, “Jason, I bet that when you go from your Mom’s house and your Dad’s house, back and forth, back and forth, you sometimes don’t feel ready maybe, and it feels like your being thrown out!”
“Yeah!!” he agreed with much energy.
“And it makes you mad, I think.”
“Yeah!!” he said again. “It makes me feel like killing that clay bird!”
We went into the waiting room and Jason told his mother the whole story. She reacted quite appropriately and that was that.
I believe that we often have an intense dream when we are close to working through something in our lives.
I worked with a group of children all of whom had fathers in an alcoholic treatment program on a military base. They had all lived through much trauma. One twelve-year-old boy described a dream where he was driving with his Dad down a windy, steep road toward a lake. He told how he was very frightened since his Dad just sped toward the lake, but he woke up just in time. A nine-year-old in the group said, “I have a road just like that in my life.”
A 13-year-old girl in that group told about a dream where she was in a coffin and no one knew she was not dead. The mourners were crying and she was about to be buried alive, when she woke up.
I suggested that we act out the dream. I told her to lie down on the floor and pretend she was in the coffin. The rest of us would be the mourners. The other children and I cried and talked about what a wonderful girl she had been.
I directed her to talk if she wanted to (though she didn’t in the dream), and she yelled loudly, “I’m not dead! I’m alive! Listen to me! Can’t you see me!” When we stopped, she said, “That is just like my life. No one hears me. No one sees me for who I am.”
It is essential in our work for the client to become aware of what is happening for them in life in order to begin to make changes. This is not the same as complaining, but a clear statement. This child, in order to keep the peace, had never told her family how invisible she felt. I was not able. in this situation, to work with parents, so we focused in this group, on how to cope and take care of ourselves. (I learned a lot from these children.)
A twelve-year-old boy had witnessed his mother’s murder when he was seven. He had blocked out all memory of the incident and about his mother. He had been diagnosed as ADHD and had many behavioral and family problems which brought him into therapy. I often gave children small notebooks for writing their dreams. After 3 or 4 months of weekly therapy, he brought in a slip of paper in which he had written a dream. He lost the notebook.) He dreamt that he was lying on a cot in the kitchen watching his mother iron. A bare light bulb shined on them, and then suddenly the bulb blew out and everything went black.
I asked Jim (not his real name) to draw the dream and he made a rough sketch of the scene. I said, “Jimmy, if you could talk in the dream, what would you say? Just say what’s happening”
He said, “I’m lying here and watching my mother iron.” (This was the first time he mentioned his mother in five years.)
“How is that for you?” I asked him.
He responded, “It’s nice.”
I directed, “Say that to her.”
“I like being here with you and watching you iron,” he responded.
“What does your mother say?”
“She says, ‘I like being here with you too.’ “
“Now, Jimmy,” I said. “Be the light bulb. Just say, ‘I am a light bulb’.”
So Jimmy repeated that, and I began a dialogue with the bulb. “So what happened?”
“Well,” Jimmy said as the light bulb. “I was shining down on Jimmy and his Mom and I suddenly blew out. So everything went black.”
Jimmy said, with no prompting from me, “That’s what happened to me! When my mother was killed, my brain went black and I couldn’t remember anything.” Jimmy’s memory came pouring back after that and as we explored his memories, and dealt with his grief and anger, his behavior totally changed.
I have found that children love working with dreams. In these examples we used clay, enactment, and drawings. Try it with the sand tray, puppets, storytelling and music!
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