Tuesday, August 28, 2012

IFI Gets Studied (or how flexible is your paradigm?)

167


On one hand, I was very familiar with government entities as a private/contract provider of public services. At the King’s Daughters’ School we had contracts with The Tennessee Department of Education, The Department of Mental Health and Mental Retardation, the Department of Children’s Services, individual school systems from multiple states, multiple contracts from children’s services agencies from all over the country, insurance companies, and private individuals.  I juggled a lot of contracts.

 
On the other hand, I was really naïve as to the entrenched traditions and biases of the correctional system.  I didn’t realize how threatening IFI was to some long-standing practices and to the very nature of prison itself. (I’m going to write more about that at another time.)

 
Needless to say, we had a lot of visitors.  Some were blind promoters of our program without really knowing what we did.  Others were blind opponents of our program that were not interested in facts or stats.  There were a rare few who really just wanted to come see what we did and if it was effective.

 
A young lady came (let’s call her Pam, because I can’t remember her name) from a national prison treatment program entity (let’s call it the National Therapeutic Community Organization again, that’s totally made-up.) Pam from NTCO traveled the country assessing and accrediting prison treatment programs.  She and her minions were at Newton to see if what we did at IFI compared to the “best practices” of prison treatment.

 

Statistically speaking, prison treatment programs fail miserably, as does prison itself when it comes to coming back to prison.  We were kind of there in Iowa on the premise of, “Guess what traditional prison treatment people? You are failures and we’re here to do something different.” We were on a waiver (so to speak) and we were not obligated to participate.  We didn’t need the “accreditation.”  Jack Cowley would have fought their assessment tooth and nail. But Sam and I welcomed it.  We weren’t afraid of what they would find and we certainly had nothing to hide.  I wanted to see how we stacked-up.

 

In came the assessment team, and because I was in charge of the in-prison treatment program I was the first to be interviewed by Pam.  She took copious notes and asked excellent questions.  Near the end of the interview, our conversation went something like this:

 

ME: Miss Pam, I want to tell you something up front about what you will likely find as you assess our program

PAM: Yes?

ME: You’ll see many processes you are familiar with.

PAM: Ok?

ME: You’ll see education groups, insight groups, independent studies, processing groups…

PAM: Yes, go on (as she begins writing furiously on her yellow legal pad)

ME: You’ll see shared values and expectations in a community setting…

PAM: Uh-huh (scribble, scribble, scribble…)

ME: You’ll see peer counseling, tutoring and accountability…

PAM: (scribble, scribble, erase. Scribble, scribble…)

ME: You’ll see community connections and volunteers with pro-social modeling.

PAM: Yessssssss…

ME: Then you’ll se a lot of outcomes…

PAM:……

ME: You’ll see pro-social interactions and insight. You’ll notice brighter affects and happiness.  You see participants who can clearly articulate what their crimes were and how it affected their victims, their families and even themselves…

PAM: Yes, Yes…Yes…

ME: Then you will try to connect the dots from one particular treatment activity and how it affects a particular and specific outcome or trait.

PAM: YES! (SCRIBBLE SCRIBBLE SCRIBBLE…)

ME: But at this point you’ll become a bit frustrated because on the one hand you’ll have a lot of varying processes and on the other you’ll see all these wonderful desired outcomes.  But something happens in between the process and the outcome that you don’t know about and that you won’t be able to quantify…

PAM: (SCRRRRRRIIIIIBBBBBBBBLLLLLLLLLE……)

ME: What happens between the Process and the outcome is what we like to call,


A Miracle.”

 
PAM: (dead stop……) What?

 

ME: A Miracle happens. The men’s hearts change and they are different people and therefore, do and say different things. I can’t explain it any differently. A Miracle happens.

 

Pam walked out of my office in a bit of a daze.  I didn’t talk to her again for the rest of the week as she talked to counselors, inmates, staff and observed everything I told her she would observe.

 

Weeks later, a whole team of treatment representatives, DOC officials, evaluators and prison officials all crowed into the library in Building, “M” to here the results of our treatment evaluation.  When it was time for PAM to report on all of the specifics, I felt a bit bad for her.  She began her report something like this:

 

PAM: IFI practices most of the components of successful therapeutic communities. They utilize a variety of groups. There is community life and shared accountability.  There is pro-social modeling and lots of education.  And the outcomes are good as evidenced in the lived of the participants. They are positive and pro-social in their demeanor. They seem hopeful and have solid outlooks for their release. They are articulate when it comes to their triggers and they have good plans.  Upon looking at the treatment components and the outcomes there really wasn’t a clear…that is to say… there really wasn’t a direct link…when trying to….

 

Then she made probably the best descriptive statement about IFI I’ve ever heard.

 

She said:

 

“For years in the treatment field we’ve talked a lot about cognitive restructuring. What IFI is attempting to do is the most difficult kind of restructuring of all, the restructuring of the heart.”

 

Well said.

 

chris

No comments:

Post a Comment