The Interpreted Rock

 By Stephen C. Schultz When adolescents feel like passive cargo being shuffled between schools and treatment programs, resistance can become one of the few ways they feel they can regain control. Involving them meaningfully in the enrollment process can begin to change that experience. Rather than feeling that a decision is simply being made for them, they have an opportunity to understand their options, express their concerns, and participate in planning a path forward. At Oxbow Academy, we believe that involving a young man in his own enrollment process is an important first step toward building trust, reducing defensiveness, and developing the personal accountability essential to meaningful clinical progress. Parents and professionals must make decisions based on safety, clinical needs, and available options, but adolescents also deserve to be heard and treated as active participants in their care. Acknowledging the Reality Parents Face This approach may sound a little idealisti...

 By Stephen C. Schultz There is a question that is regularly the topic of discussion whenever a parent calls me; How do we make responsible decisions about our son's future when we may not yet understand the full story? There are times when the most important question is also the most difficult to answer: What do we really know? When a young person has engaged in problematic sexual behavior, the questions facing parents, clinicians, attorneys, and other professionals can be especially complicated. There may be conflicting accounts of what happened, important information that has not been disclosed, or behaviors that are difficult to understand without more context. The consequences of our decisions can be significant, both for the young person and for the people who may be affected by their behavior. In these situations, it is tempting to look for a clear answer. We want to know what happened, why it happened, whether it is likely to happen again, and what needs to change. But what...

 By Stephen C. Schultz Five years ago, I listened to a podcast conversation between two people I know and respect. Today, I found myself thinking about it again. I was talking with a potential Oxbow Academy student and his family, and as we discussed some of the challenges they are facing, I found myself using several of the principles that came up in that conversation. When the call was over, I thought, Where did I hear that before? It didn't take long to remember. I went back and found the podcast. It was a conversation between Dr. Gwen Palafox and Dr. Jared Schultz called The Developmental Process of Transitioning to Adulthood . And there was another reason the conversation was familiar. Jared is my younger brother. I had introduced Jared and Gwen to each other several years ago. I have had the opportunity to visit with Gwen a couple of times and have exchanged quite a few emails with her over the years. I have always appreciated the way she approaches her work and the way she...

 By Stephen C. Schultz The thump, thump was unmistakable and annoying all at the same time. With my eyes closed and my head in that fog that only happens as you are coming out of sleep, I was beginning to realize the thumping was the sound of cars on the 10 in Southern California, driving over an uneven crack in the cement. Yes, it was early. Still dark outside. I rolled over and looked at my phone. As is usually the case, my five o'clock alarm was about to go off in about 30 seconds. There was a quick awakening and a sharp focus as I reached for my phone, hoping I could turn the alarm off before I actually had to hear it. I had a reason for being up so early. I was attending a conference in Southern California, but I needed to speak with a family living in the Eastern time zone. Their day was already well underway. Mine was just beginning. I got out of bed, made my way to the small hotel desk, opened my computer, and started preparing for our call. They had a 12-year-old son. Thre...

By Stephen C. Schultz The sun was shining through the limbs of the great Douglas fir trees. Morning was in the air, and a cool breeze carried the fresh scent of dew across the field. Fall was beginning to make its presence known. As I stood there taking it all in, I found myself thinking about a recent experience that was shared with me involving a second grader, his teacher, and his parents. It was a simple story, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized there was something important in it. Sometimes the smallest moments in a child's life can remind us of something we adults too easily forget: children are still becoming who they are. The teacher had reached out to the boy's mother the day before and asked if she and her husband could meet with her briefly the following day. She assured her that it wasn't an emergency, but there were a few things she wanted to discuss. The next day, both parents arrived at the agreed upon time, and their son came with them. The...

By Stephen C. Schultz Some of the best lessons about kindness don't come from books, classrooms, or carefully planned conversations. They come from ordinary moments when we happen to notice someone else. Over the years, I have written about several of those moments. Looking back at them now, I realize they all share something in common. They remind me that kindness rarely requires extraordinary circumstances. More often, it begins with simply paying attention. A few years ago, I wrote about Finding Meaning in the Mundane . It started with something as ordinary as shoveling snow. I was outside clearing the sidewalk when I noticed two mule deer moving quietly through the snow and into my backyard. It was one of those small moments that could easily be missed, but it reminded me that life is filled with things worth noticing if we are willing to slow down long enough to see them. That same idea applies to people. In another post, Connecting Generations...It's Not About Technology ...

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 an eight-year-old making his way through the underbrush of the temperate rainforest we respec...