The Interpreted Rock

By Stephen C. Schultz There is something about August that always makes me reflective. Backpacks begin appearing in stores. Teachers begin preparing their classrooms. Parents start talking about bedtimes again. Kids wonder who will be in their class, whether they'll make new friends, and if they'll recognize anyone when they walk through the school doors that first morning. Before every school year begins, I find myself thinking about another kind of classroom. The early morning dew dripped from the branches of the Douglas fir trees all around me. Ferns and waist-high brush soaked my pants from the knees down with every step. My head bobbed up and down in a steady rhythm, not because of music, but because I was trying to survive. I looked down to make sure my footing was secure and then back up to keep my fishing pole from snagging in the branches overhead. It was quite the process for a five-year-old making his way through the underbrush of the temperate rainforest we respectf...

 By Stephen C. Schultz One of the assumptions we can easily make in behavioral healthcare is that families simply need more information. There are insurance benefits to verify, levels of care to understand, providers to contact, evaluations to schedule, and treatment options to compare. It seems reasonable to believe that if we can explain the process clearly enough, families will know what to do next. After nearly twenty-five years of working with families considering residential treatment, I've found myself looking at that assumption a little differently. The challenge often isn't the complexity of the information. It's the amount of information arriving all at once. By the time many parents contact Oxbow Academy , they have been living with uncertainty, fear, and emotional exhaustion for months, and sometimes years. Many have already navigated outpatient therapy, medication management, school interventions, psychological testing, and countless difficult conversations at ...

 By Stephen C. Schultz Parents often ask me whether concerns about internet pornography are a relatively new phenomenon. Given the rapid rise of smartphones, social media, and unlimited internet access, it is easy to assume that our understanding has only recently begun to catch up with the technology. The truth is quite different. Long before today's digital world existed, physicians, psychologists, neuroscientists, and addiction researchers were already asking difficult questions about pornography's influence on the brain, relationships, and healthy development. While the internet has changed dramatically over the past twenty years, many of the concerns raised by those early researchers remain remarkably relevant. One historical example stands out. In November 2004, psychiatrist and researcher Dr. Jeffrey Satinover submitted testimony to a United States Senate committee discussing the emerging science surrounding internet pornography and its potential effects on the human bra...

 By Stephen C. Schultz The heat hit me like I was catching a medicine ball in a local gym. There was a breeze, technically. But it felt less like relief and more like someone had pointed my wife's blow dryer in my general direction. When I stepped out of the car, the temperature read 95 degrees, and the humidity seemed to whisper, "Welcome to Dallas. You're definitely not in Utah anymore." Coming from the Intermountain West at roughly 6,000 feet above sea level, I'm accustomed to conversations about shortness of breath because of the elevation. Dallas has its own version of that experience. It took me about five minutes to realize that breathing through humidity is a skill I have yet to master. Truth be told, I really enjoy visiting Dallas. It is a vibrant city with a rich history, wonderful people, and an unmistakable sense of energy. Every visit I've made, builds on the previous visit and gives me another reason to appreciate it. The climate simply reminds...

 By Stephen C. Schultz As Father's Day comes around each year, I find myself reflecting on the legacy of my father, R. Conrad Schultz. Looking back over his life, one word comes to mind— FATHER . Not simply because he was my father, but because the word itself describes the qualities that defined him. F—Faithful My father's life is anchored in faith. He love's the Lord, trusts His promises, and remains steadfast through seasons of joy and adversity. Faith is not something he merely professes; it is something he lives. A—Authentic There was no difference between the public man and the private man. Whether serving in Church leadership, practicing law, or sitting around the dinner table with family, he was genuine. He valued truth, honesty, and sincerity, and those who knew him best knew exactly where he stood. T—Teacher Dad taught constantly, often without realizing it. Through stories, scriptures, humor, fishing trips, and simple conversations, he taught principles rather th...

By Stephen C. Schultz It was a warm summer day when the call came to my phone. On the other end was the mother of an adopted son. Just days earlier, she had uncovered some deeply concerning and risky problematic sexual behavior. Her voice carried a mix of shock, fear, frustration, disbelief, and embarrassment. She found herself using words and discussing topics she probably never imagined she would speak aloud as a parent. Unfortunately, this is not an unusual call. In fact, these are the conversations I have almost every day. They come from families all across the country. Parents who have been thrust into a reality they never anticipated. Families whose lives have suddenly become filled with questions, uncertainty, and concern for both their child and the people around them. The details may vary, but the emotions are remarkably consistent. "What happened?" "How did we miss this?" "Is my son dangerous?" "Can he get better?" "What do we do n...

 By Stephen C. Schultz There is a transition every parent eventually faces that few people talk about honestly. The slow and often painful movement from advocating for your child…to teaching them how to advocate for themselves. At first, it begins naturally. As parents, we speak for our children because they cannot yet speak for themselves. We schedule appointments. We explain emotions they do not yet understand. We intervene at school. We help navigate friendships, conflict, academics, doctors, therapists, coaches, and consequences. This is not weakness. This is parenting. And for parents raising disadvantaged teens or young adults, especially those struggling with mental health challenges, neurodivergence, trauma, chronic illness, or physical health concerns, that role often becomes even more intense. Sometimes advocacy is not optional. It becomes survival. Parents learn medications, treatment plans, educational accommodations, emotional triggers, behavioral patterns, specialist ...