A young man enters a bar and asks for a beer. The barman looks at him and before taking his order, asks him in a raspy voice: "Mr., are you Chinese?" "No" answers the young man surprised by the question. The barman keeps staring at him and asks again as if he did not hear the client's answer: "Mr., are you Chinese?" The young man thought that the barman had one too many, but decided to be calm, if nothing else he really wanted the beer. "No" he replies. The barman did not think that the answer was satisfactory, and with a menacing look, asks him again; "Mr. you must be Chinese". Already irritated by the strange situation, the client decides to play ball and hoping that he was going to get the beer, he answers: "Yes, I am Chinese" This time the barman looks at the client again, and in a calm voice, he asks: "now then, why don't you have slanted eyes like the rest of the Chinese people"?....
The situation seems illogical, and may be it is, but it came to mind when trying to rationalize the events I am going to talk about. Although I would have liked to tell a story which was happening entirely in my vivid imagination with no connection to reality, the sad truth of the matter is that all the events are real.
I kicked and screamed when the probation agent sent me to an anger management course. I took a few classes in college in Psychology and I never trusted the methods used in controlling anger. Although a small percentage of individuals have inherent and genetic anger problem, the high number of angry people today, is very much environment induced. It is too bad that anger these days is a problem of national proportions. Unfortunately, everyone refuses to acknowledge that fact that only the symptoms are treated while the causes are constantly kept alive.
After my fist class of anger management, I have to thank the agent for sending me there. There was no better way to document the absurdity of the process than being part of it.
The classes were scheduled in a building located in the inner city. Although the street the building is located on, crosses the city from East to West, it is passing through all kinds of neighborhoods. It took me a while to find the street address, because the building number was hidden in a regress, dark in color, while the digits, dark themselves blended with the background. After I identified the door, I stepped in and I found myself in an office, quite large I would say, with a very clean and professional look. The room was partitioned into personal office spaces, and conference divisions with big tables and a lot of chairs around them. Probably it would have been a very good idea to let the receptionist's desk out of the partition, so the people entering the room will see her and know where to stop. Upon entering the office, I saw at my left a person behind a desk talking on the phone and I imagined that she was a regular office person talking on the phone. So I stopped to the partition on the right site where two women were working on papers laid out on a big conference table. I asked for directions, and one of them giving me a look similar to "Da, you stupid, there is the reception, do you think that I am the one?"
I did not want to start on a wrong foot, so I thanked her and went to the receptionist, who seeing me coming towards her, put the caller on hold and after I told her my name invited me to take a place on the area by the door which was furnished with some chairs a small magazine table with a few magazines on it. I was waiting for about five minutes, and the person who was so unpleasantly surprised that I though that she was the receptionist, came to invite me to start the paper work. We went into the partition and she offered me a chair to sit down. She gave me a stack of forms to be completed.
At the table there was another person working. I looked not knowing if I should start feeling the papers with my personal data in that kind of lack of privacy. The chance made it that the first form that I was supposed to sign was about the confidentiality of information that I was going to provide. After a few seconds on indecision, the other woman moved away from where I was and pulled all the papers spread in front of her towards the other end of the table.
I started to read the forms. I was advised by the person who gave me the forms that it is OK if I signed them and read them later. And if I were not married to my wife, or if I did not signed papers just on somebody's word, as I did when I bought the house, before I got in trouble with the bank, I would have probably did so. But because my wife would have been totally unhappy with me signing without reading, and I got burnt once with the bank, I decided to read every single line before signing. And I have to admit that the lecture was very interesting and extremely entertaining. The young woman was not really thrilled by my stubbornness, however she did not have to many choices...
The form I had in my hand was referring to the privacy of the medical records kept by the facility. Actually because we were supposed to furnish personal medical information, the facility was compelled by law to keep it confidential. This law which really exists was well intended, but like any other law left to the bureaucracy turned into a chaos that no one really understands or cares about. In this particular case, I was consenting that all my confidential information was going to be furnished to the probation agent. The government in its proverbial wisdom decided that a probation agent, who usually takes a few credits at a community college is entitled to know my medical records... Another release dealt with the group. This anger management was going to be discussed into a group of strangers. I am not the type, but it seems that most of the people feel better if they clean their dirty laundry in public... I don't remember all the lines from the form, except for two. I was supposed to consent that I had to keep the privacy of the group members, and that I was not going to talk about what was discussed outside of the group. In other words, if I met one of them while strolling the mall with my wife and we exchanged greetings, if my wife asked me who the person was I was supposed to let her know that the answer was classified and that was it.
I refused to sign those two lines. Than I had to fill in a anger evaluation. I remember that in one of the classes in Industrial Psychology the teacher showed us a similar form to make sure that we never design one of them. I don't remember how many there were, however the assumption was that who was filling them, had to admit that he or she had some anger issues. All the questions were supposed to be answered in yes or no, however a person who was not angry or did not experienced anger could have not properly given an answer. So when I ran into one of those impossible questions, I skipped them. And little by little it took me a while to read the ten or so pages and to fill in the blanks.
Than I was taken by the intake person who happened to be the person in charge of the classes. She had a bad cold and of course she was not in the best of her moods. Besides, at first she was on her guards, because let's face it, in spite of the fact that we were about the same age, she was black and I was white. I realized her attitude, and I was waiting for a point to break the chill in the air. It came when she made it to the line in the form where I filled "human being" to the race question. She said that it was an interesting answer. I told her that I refuse to answer offensive questions, concerning the color of my skin... From then on all of a sudden it turned very hot in the cold room. We made it to the part about not talking about the group outside of the building. I explained to her that I was in the group because the probation agent forced me to go, so I am not going to give up my freedom of speech. She insisted that they are very much interested in keeping the privacy of the clients. It was a sticky issue, but I am sure that she thought I was an eccentric and as long as we had more agreeing points rather than not agreeing she found the deal acceptable.
She explained to me that the classes are proceeding following a certain curriculum designed by her and that she was able to structure the sessions to one hour a week for eight weeks. She said that most of the times, she makes sure that the sessions will not go in over time, and if the material is covered in less than an hour that will be fine. She asked me when I wanted to start, and she offered me a spot on the next day class.
Next day, at the proper time, I showed up and I had almost the same hard time in locating the building. I went in and after signing in, the receptionist directed me to the partition designated for the meeting. She was still on the phone when I stepped in, however seeing me approaching her, she put the caller on hold again, smiled at me and showed me where to go.
I was a couple of minutes late, the meeting already started. The lady who was suppose to teach that morning, turned into a gentleman who actually mentioned to the group that he was a substitute, she was sick at the doctor.
Every one was very accommodating, and they shifted around the table to offer me a place. There were sixteen people when we started including me. By the time we were done an hour later, the number swelled to twenty one.
I made some mental calculations and I figured out that for at least eight weeks, the center had secured an income of two hundred ten dollars an hour one day of the week. It was not a real big deal, however, the fees we paid were only the icing on the cake, because the main founding was supplied by grants from the government. And I assumed that they have some other activities besides the anger management classes.
In the group there were only three white guys, the rest were black and the age range was from teenager to a guy who said that he was fifty five.
I felt good in the group and I knew that I was going to have fun. I sensed some hostile eyes on me, however I pretended I did not notice it. Because I was late, I did not really find a place at the table, my chair was on a second raw around the table, so I was outside of the group, if judged by the law of group location. However I was not the only one in that position, and no one could say that I picked up my place on purpose.
Before the session started, some of the people tried to break the ice with a few jokes and summary introductions. Well, they were talking about their experiences and they were exchanging notes with the group. There was this guy who was very talkative and eager to tell the others about his adventures. We found out later that he was on his forth or fifth session. Every time he attended he learn how to control his emotions, but it seemed that he was very hard to learn control, when some body touched him. He admitted that during the last incident... he should have restrained himself from breaking the assailant's nose...
The moderator, passed some sheets around and declared the session started. He wanted to make sure that we are not running late. We were already five or so minutes in the allocated time. So he recommended a prayer and he asked whoever wanted to join in to do so.
We were in the Souther Baptist territory so it was understanding, however we were there on a government sponsored program. Well, I assumed that one of the reason they wanted it to comply with the confidentiality law, was that no one would find out about the prayer on the government sponsored program... To make the matter worse, he ended by thanking Jesus for the opportunity to have that session. You bet he was thanking for being able to have that kind of a prayer on government money...
At first I felt strange about being in the middle of that group at the prayer. It only took me a second to realize that I may not be the only outsider in the room. Although everyone participated in the prayer, including the young white boy in front of me, I noticed that no one cared to remove their had covers during the prayer... And looking around the room, I noticed that in the partition designated to the speaker on a file cabinet there were a few pictures of black leaders, a statue of Jesus, and yes a very nice and trendy Menorah...
Once the first order of the day was taken care of, we moved to the real session. He invited one of the members to start reading out loud the first question.
I probably should not mention this sad fact, however the person who started reading and I estimated to be in his mid twenties, I am not a good age estimator, was reading at best at a forth grade level. A few times he needed help from the group. In one of the instances, there was a different voice who corrected both the reader and the helpers and there was a little extra discussion about the pronunciation of a certain word.
Those questions were supposed to present scenarios of anger and we were supposed to come up with ways to solve the issues. We were told that not listening to what was being told to you and not acting on, is the first clear sign of anger. A smart alec from the group decided to muddy the water and asked a question which was to my heart's liking ( I knew that I could not speak too much under strict instructions from home, so I could not ask). "So, you mean to tell me that people who is not listening to others are angry?" "Yes" the moderator answered. "Oh mama, it means that all them politicians are angry, because we tell them how things is, and none of them is listening to us and says that we is well..." "No, this is not it", the moderator answered. "You see, there are cases and cases, and not listening to somebody does not really mean that you are angry if you are a politician. There are some other conditions to be angry, politicians don't get in this category". All of a sudden I realized that if one is a politician and does not listen to the constituency, that person is not angry, because there are some other conditions to be met to be angry. So, the forms that were presented to us, assumed that we were not politicians... I wold have liked to jump in to ask what are the conditions that the politicians meet not to be angry and the rest of us are meeting when not listening to others telling us what to do. But, I remembered that I had to shut up...
The moderator knew his Jesus and my admiration for him grew realizing that he can get out of sticky situations in spite of his four front teeth on the lower jaw missing...
It was the "fifty some" turn to bring his case. He was in the group as a result of asking for his payroll check. He did not receive his check together with the rest of his coworkers. Next day, when the check did not show up he asked his supervisor why was his check missing. His supervisor, invited him in her office and told him that he can't ask her that kind of question in that manner and that he better get to the anger management. One person from the group asked the obvious question, "was she white?" "No" the man replied, "she is all black of her 900 lbs of her are black"... Everyone had a good laugh, however the man was waiting for an answer.
A very interesting development followed. A couple of the guys went to his chair and asked him if he still had a job. He answered yes. The common answer was "deal with it man, you still have a job, you will get your check".
The man was wronged, on the date he was supposed to receive his payroll check he did not receive it. He did not receive it the next day either, and he asked for it. He might not have been angry when he asked for the check, but he should have been allowed to express his concern. At the time he presented the case, he was angry. Not only that he was sent to the anger management classes but he had to apologize for the fact that he raised the question, and two days later his check was still not cut.
For people like me involved with cutting checks, I know that there are occasions when the payroll people don't have their minds in the right place doing the payroll, however someone had to give him a reasonable explanation for having the check delayed.
The moderator tried to analyze the situation and the group reacted with different answers. Most of the members decided that having a job is more important than having the check delayed. As far as the apologize and the presence at the session goes, everyone agreed that the "900 pounder" was wrong but she was the boss.
The man was confused, not only did he not have the money, but he had to take one hour off from work once a week for eight weeks, for the sessions and he had to pay out of his pocket the cost...
At that time the hours was up and without too many good buys the room emptied as if somebody sounded the alarm for an air raid...
What I understood from that session was that the best way to deal with wrong doings is to say nothing, to let everyone walk all over you and to keep hoping that next time things will turn better.
And after all, the society progressed. Before the Civil War, the man would have been physically punished, in our free society of modern times, he only got eight weeks of anger management plus expenses...