January is National Mentoring Month
Just as we know that children are impressionable, and for good or bad, learn what they live, so too do young adults entering the workplace for the first time. New employees come into our agencies energetic and eager to learn and their early career experiences, first workplace and first supervisors and colleagues have a significant impact. Every workplace has a unique culture and similar to families, the dynamics can create a healthy or unhealthy environment. Working in an unhealthy, unproductive environment, can cause employees whether new or veteran to form bad habits, negative routines and jaded philosophies. The converse is true as well. Functional, healthy and productive environments, where seasoned employees serve as mentors to newer employees are nurturing environments. Such was my first juvenile justice workplace, the Lexington Court Service Unit where I interned (and was later hired).
Despite the fact that my internship turned out to be a great environment, my earliest contact might have caused me to believe otherwise. A Rockbridge county native, I contacted the probation office in my hometown. I’d learned from classmates that most state agencies were eager for free labor and aside from the agency completing a background check, securing an internship required little more than making a phone call. It turned out the supervisor was Advocate Editor-in-Chief, Gary Conway, though, and he made things sound a little more complicated. I’d called to ask, “When can I start”, and he’d responded with details of the competitive application and interview process. In fact, he was intimidating enough by phone that I’d spent what little money I had left in my checking account on a leatherette padfolio and the chicest navy blue business suit $40 would afford. I’d also spent countless hours “studying” and rehearsing for my “competitive” interview, having roommates quiz me on potential questions.
By the time the day of the interview arrived I could spout multiple treatment modalities, recite the entire first chapter of my juvenile delinquency text, and discuss Piaget’s Stages of Development in great detail. I’d also developed responses for each of the “typical” interview questions found on file in the career development center. I was prepared to talk about my strengths and weaknesses, eager to explain why I wanted to work in the juvenile justice field, and ready to meet Gary Conway. The interview started with an overview of the agency and was followed by a single question. “Do you have a sense of humor?” I was horrified. I’m not sure how long I paused without answering. After hours of rehearsing, this John Candy looking man wanted to know only if I had a sense of humor. Panic was followed by rage and I glared through the padfolio in my lap with the realization that I hadn’t anticipated or prepared for that question. While I’d like to think I have a well-developed sense of humor, I wasn’t thinking anything about his question was very funny. Gary explained that given the serious nature of our work and challenging population that we serve, having a sense of humor was important to lighten the load and keep from getting burned out. Over the course of my internship and later as an employee in the same unit, I’d learn what he meant first hand. Laughter would serve me well as I ventured into the world of juvenile justice. But it would be just as important as I spent nearly 700 hours that summer working with Gary, Rodney Hubbard and Chuck Watts. (And I’d get to answer all of those theory questions later in the real interview with Becky Camache).
Though nearly 16 years have passed, the lessons I learned during my internship and first years of employment have stayed with me and proved to be some of the most important in my professional development. They were lessons that can’t be found in textbooks or manuals, but rather that come from colleagues willing to share their wealth of knowledge and experience. There were lessons on treating kids like kids and expecting them to act like kids. Lessons on recognizing and not criminalizing typical adolescent behavior. And lessons on decision-making, particularly with regard to making court recommendations.
Two of the lessons stand out as being the most important: (1) Expect non-compliance: Adolescence is a time of making mistakes and learning from those mistakes. Responses must be developmentally appropriate and programs must anticipate and plan for non-compliance. (2) Use the least restrictive sanction necessary and reserve incarceration for a last resort: Even under the best of conditions, detention homes and correctional centers are inherently dangerous environments and can do more harm than good. Reserve the use of secure confinement only for public safety.
Those were important messages to hear as a new worker. I still recall the case that prompted the discussion on the use of secure confinement. A young lady named “Tracey” had been on probation for some time and continually violated her conditions. Each time she violated, I had increased the level of the sanction, until ultimately I had tried everything I had at my disposal. At the next court date I was prepared to recommend committment. I felt the probationer had left me no choice and while staffing the case with my supervisor, Rodney Hubbard, told him, “I’ve tried everything we have available to us and this kid just doesn’t get it”. How fortunate I am, as is Tracey, that I had a supervisor who didn’t rubber stamp recommendations, but rather challenged me to come up with alternatives. He reminded me that while Tracey’s original and subsequent charges made her commitment-eligible, the charges had not been terribly serious. She wasn’t a public safety risk, but rather an obnoxious rule-breaker. If we had exhausted every option available on our list, Rodney challenged me to consider whether we needed a longer list. Tracey’s an adult now and I see her in the community occasionally. She’s aged out of some of her behaviors and while she continues to break minor rules, is getting along fairly well. Each time I see her I feel good knowing that I didn’t recommend that commitment and while our office couldn’t cure all of Tracey’s problems and “sanction” her into full compliance, I also feel good knowing that we didn’t cause any greater harm.
So for each of those lessons and many more, I express my gratitude to Gary, Rodney and Chuck, for challenging me and shaping my early development. Without their guidance, the learning curve would have been much steeper and the experiences wouldn’t have been nearly as fun.
January 25th is, “Thank Your Mentor Day” and we invited some of our readers (and even a few kids) to write and share their own mentoring stories. Read their responses here: www.VJJA.org/mentors.html. May the stories of your colleagues inspire you to thank the people who have been the most influential in your own life and to share your time, talents and wisdom with someone else. Pass it on.
