Barrett Dorko
07-10-2007, 03:57 PM
It’s been a quiet week in Cuyahoga Falls…
I watched The Sopranos ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sopranos) faithfully for years, and thought of this while on my way to the Newark airport last Tuesday. According to my television set, things are different in New Jersey and I felt I needed to reign in my Ohioness in order to get along. After all, the people who populate the world of The Sopranos demand some respect – or else.
Early this year I wrote about the significance of context here ( http://www.somasimple.com/forums/showthread.php?t=3651) and find that I’m emphasizing this more these days as I teach. It has actually replaced several other things I once tried to convey about therapeutic presence and handling. Now when I speak of how powerfully our surroundings affect our perceptions and behavior therapists readily relate. I can see that they’re thinking about the clinic they work in and how its atmosphere drives the way their patients behave and the things everybody chooses to notice.
I’ve read that the most popular episode of The Sopranos was Pine Barrens ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pine_Barrens_(The_Sopranos_episode)) and it was certainly one of mine. In this, two powerful and competent men are exposed as helpless once they step outside their familiar surroundings. My favorite exchange: Pauly whines, “How could we get lost in New Jersey? Christopher replies ruefully, “South Jersey.”
True story. I stepped out of my room on the eighth floor of The Resorts Casino Hotel on Friday morning at 5:15 AM on my way to the thirteenth floor where the workshop was to be held. I wanted to drop off some course manuals before I went to breakfast. Directly across the hall a man lay on the floor, his head propped against a door and his legs splayed out in my direction. He was dressed quite nicely and held a cell phone in his left hand, opened and still on. When my door closed heavily behind me he didn’t budge.
I surveyed this scene for a moment, took care not to trip over him and made my way to the elevator. As I ascended past the tenth floor it occurred to me that I had just done a very strange thing. I thought some more about this as I proceeded to stack my supplies in the room, take the elevator back down to the lobby and walk casually toward the front desk. “There’s somebody lying in the hallway on the eighth floor,” I said. “Against room 849.” I felt further description would be unnecessary.
While eating my omelet I thought a little more about how I would have reacted to the prostrate man if I’d been in another city or state. Had I seen this in Springfield Missouri I might have even taken his pulse or helped him to his feet. But I was in a casino, in South Jersey no less, and I behaved in a fashion I felt was reasonable, responsible, appropriate and safe for me.
Context. It drives everything.
Especially when you don’t notice it.
I watched The Sopranos ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sopranos) faithfully for years, and thought of this while on my way to the Newark airport last Tuesday. According to my television set, things are different in New Jersey and I felt I needed to reign in my Ohioness in order to get along. After all, the people who populate the world of The Sopranos demand some respect – or else.
Early this year I wrote about the significance of context here ( http://www.somasimple.com/forums/showthread.php?t=3651) and find that I’m emphasizing this more these days as I teach. It has actually replaced several other things I once tried to convey about therapeutic presence and handling. Now when I speak of how powerfully our surroundings affect our perceptions and behavior therapists readily relate. I can see that they’re thinking about the clinic they work in and how its atmosphere drives the way their patients behave and the things everybody chooses to notice.
I’ve read that the most popular episode of The Sopranos was Pine Barrens ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pine_Barrens_(The_Sopranos_episode)) and it was certainly one of mine. In this, two powerful and competent men are exposed as helpless once they step outside their familiar surroundings. My favorite exchange: Pauly whines, “How could we get lost in New Jersey? Christopher replies ruefully, “South Jersey.”
True story. I stepped out of my room on the eighth floor of The Resorts Casino Hotel on Friday morning at 5:15 AM on my way to the thirteenth floor where the workshop was to be held. I wanted to drop off some course manuals before I went to breakfast. Directly across the hall a man lay on the floor, his head propped against a door and his legs splayed out in my direction. He was dressed quite nicely and held a cell phone in his left hand, opened and still on. When my door closed heavily behind me he didn’t budge.
I surveyed this scene for a moment, took care not to trip over him and made my way to the elevator. As I ascended past the tenth floor it occurred to me that I had just done a very strange thing. I thought some more about this as I proceeded to stack my supplies in the room, take the elevator back down to the lobby and walk casually toward the front desk. “There’s somebody lying in the hallway on the eighth floor,” I said. “Against room 849.” I felt further description would be unnecessary.
While eating my omelet I thought a little more about how I would have reacted to the prostrate man if I’d been in another city or state. Had I seen this in Springfield Missouri I might have even taken his pulse or helped him to his feet. But I was in a casino, in South Jersey no less, and I behaved in a fashion I felt was reasonable, responsible, appropriate and safe for me.
Context. It drives everything.
Especially when you don’t notice it.