The Interpreted Rock

By Stephen C. Schultz Collaboration:  to work jointly with others or together especially in an intellectual endeavor I just wanted to share a quick note and let you know that RedCliff Ascent , Discovery Ranch for Girls , Discovery Ranch for Boys , Oxbow Academy and Discovery Academy had their Administration teams come together for an Inter-departmental workshop. This is simply a deliberate way to have our Clinical, Academic, Residential, Human Resources, Accounting and Admissions departments all share experiences and best practices. It allows our people to get to know each other better and develop meaningful relationships. We’ve been doing this now for a few years. What a great group of folks we have!!! As you may be aware, each of the above listed programs has achieved the status through NATSAP as a Research Designated Program (RDP). Through our research efforts, we have been able to measure student health and wellness, staff burnout and satisfaction, academi...

By Stephen C. Schultz Having been raised in Eugene, Oregon, I am very familiar with the term evergreen . I grew up exploring the temperate rainforests of Western Oregon. I have spent many nights camping in the rain under cedar, western hemlock, and Douglas fir trees, to name a few. The rhythmic sound of water droplets falling from a hundred-foot tree to the forest floor brings a sense of peace, comfort, and fond memories found nowhere else. Even though I don’t consider myself a professional blogger, over the years, I have become somewhat intrigued by blogging lingo. I regularly hear that “Content is King,” and every once in a while, I come across an article mentioning “Evergreen Content.” Evidently, evergreen content refers to written material that never becomes outdated. I was recently reading through some of my older blog posts and was amazed at how many of them contain timeless subject matter. I may have written an article three years ago—or even five—but the principles remain un...

By Stephen C. Schultz The sun was peaking over the snow capped mountain. The morning sky was awash in a brilliant amber color. Mornings often bring an unexpected gift. For some odd reason, my 15 year old daughter Emma and her friend Ramzie enjoy having me drive them to school so they don’t have to ride the bus. I don’t really mind, it is fun hearing them talk about their days in high school. They tell me that most of all, they like “70’s on 7”, the 1970’s music channel on the satellite radio in my car. So, as the typical awkward dad, I talk about and share stories of my time as a teen listening to the likes of Led Zeplin, Boston, Van Halen, Journey etc, etc, etc! As we were winding our way through town, I happened to hear an infomercial talking about a local radio program that will be discussing the benefits of walking to school vs riding the bus. My focus immediately shifted to the radio since I happened to have two anti-bus culprits right there with me. The ...

Stephen C. Schultz The sky was gray, with wispy clouds having just released their moisture. The sun was just starting to peek over the distant horizon and break through the gray fluff. To see these surroundings would have you believe it was a beautiful winter morning. The steam from my breathing wafted upward and created little ice crystals on my eyelashes. The sidewalk was covered in ice that had formed little potholes where people had walked before the snow could be shoveled. I was on my way to class at the local university. As I approached the corner, I heard a clicking sound accompanied by an almost imperceptible whirring. I glanced across the street and saw Trent, a 14-year-old young man, making his way down the street. I was able to wave and catch his eye. I shouted, "Hi Trent! Good to see you this morning!" There was no response. He simply kept making his way down the street with a very determined, focused effort. Some might consider that behavior on Trent's part t...

By Stephen C. Schultz The 1970’s were a time of demonstrations, hippies, communal living, acid trips, pot smoking and the constant questioning of the current “establishment”. Often, the establishment was the metaphorical embodiment of anything considered to be “authority” of any kind. So, whether it was the local government, police officers, church leaders, God, professors and universities, business owners or even parents, there always seemed to be scrutiny of some kind and a cause to try and make things better for the disgruntled segment of the population. It is little wonder that the children of the 70’s, having been exposed to many of these conversations, rallies and demonstrations came up with a “tongue in cheek” theme song for elementary school. I recall kids walking down the breezeway at recess singing this song to the tune of the Battle Hymn of the Republic: Mine eyes have seen the glory of the burning of the school. We have tortured every teacher, we have brok...

By Stephen C. Schultz I recently had a conversation with an allied health professional concerning a student who was already placed in a residential treatment program. The family was from the Boston area and were huge Red Sox fans. They are a close family and never planned on being in this very personal and lonely place concerning their son. This particular student has a history of being in previous treatment programs and sexually acting out at some of those programs. Each time he would be separated from the rest of the group, additional staff were brought in, and the parents were asked to find another placement within 24-48 hours. This particular student has a low/average IQ and has been diagnosed as being on the spectrum. I got the call because this student, who is underage and in another program, sexually acted out with a 20-year-old. We had a good conversation, and I’m sure the family is in good hands with their consultant. My purpose in sharing this message isn’t to “armchair qua...

By Stephen C. Schultz “I was on the road in my car last week. It was a long stretch of highway where it is easy for your speed to creep up. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw blue and red flashing lights. I watched as the right hand of the officer extended to lift a microphone to his mouth. He was obviously running my plates. I glanced at my driver’s side mirror and observed as his door opened, and he stepped around the edge of the door and closed it with a single, fluid motion. In a cautious and calculated manner, with his right hand resting about hip-high on his revolver and his left hand carrying some paper, he was at my door in ten easy strides.” Okay…now that you have read that first paragraph, what are you feeling? Did reading that stir any emotions? Could you relate to my experience? How many of you are smiling? You’ve been there…right? You know the feeling. Often there is dread. Sometimes there is fear. Most times there is frustration because you were just going with the f...