Into the Wild
Tough love tests father-son relationship
Posted Wed Oct. 24, 13:14:01 PDT 2007
By Shoshana Gould and Emily Hamilton of Verde Magazine
Night was falling on the warm June evening. Jordan Jefferson, now a Paly senior, sat in the passenger seat next to his father, stomach full, mind wandering. There was something different about that night. He didn't know what it was, but he knew something was about to happen. As they pulled into the Menlo Park Safeway parking lot, he saw two large, somewhat daunting men, both of whom looked like bouncers or track stars. He felt like he was living a scene from a movie, and the climax was rapidly approaching. There was no time for thought, no time for explanation, as his father handed him over to the custody of the two men. The truth was, he was about to spend the next 53 days 724 miles away from home, in a place called Shoshone, Idaho.
Jordan would spend the 11 hours following the departure trapped in a van with only two strange men and his own thoughts. As he had just learned before getting into the van, he was now on his way to a wilderness therapy program designed to deal with teenage behavioral problems. His thoughts bounced between the various reasons for his departure. His emotions had become a swirling mixture of confusion, disbelief, anger, and fear. "I didn't really know what to expect," Jordan says, recounting the story in a recent interview. "It all happened really fast."
The summer before his sophomore year was supposed to be perfect, three months filled with football, friends, and fun. Instead, it had become, according to Jordan, a teenager's worst nightmare: seven weeks in the middle of nowhere without electronics.
"I was upset at my parents," Jordan says. "They didn't think they could handle me. I felt like they just gave up."
The decision to send Jordan to a wilderness therapy program was not one his father, Michael Jefferson, considered lightly. Sitting across from his son at the dinner table that night, he was faced with one of the most challenging things he would ever have to do as a parent. He couldn't bare to tell his son the truth. He knew Jordan would find out soon enough. After that sad and anticipatory dinner, he made the drive to Safeway in silence, trying not to think about what it would be like to say goodbye. Pulling into the parking lot, he knew that the moment of truth had arrived.
"It was the hardest thing," Michael says. After months of disrespectful behavior and bad decision-making, Jordan, in his father's mind, needed to attend this program. By tracking his behavior, Michael saw that it had become an issue of trust. Michael says he had caught Jordan attempting to steal, playing recklessly with B-B guns, and purposely avoiding his phone calls. :rofl:
"I thought to myself, 'This is like work,'" Michael says.
Michael desperately tried to get through to his son. He sat him down with two lists, one of his recent track record, one with the good qualities he possessed. But these efforts to talk with Jordan failed, leaving Michael with little choice of what the next step would be.
Joseph Popelka, a graduate student at the University of Minnesota who is currently doing innovative work in the field, acknowledges that Michael's feelings were not unique.
"It is important to realize that when parents place their children in a wilderness treatment program it is because the relationship between the parent and the child has become bankrupt," Popelka says. "It is a parent's last-ditch effort to try and reach their children."
Though he hated coming to this point, Michael says this was the only way to reverse Jordan's out-of-character behavior.
"I know it's hard when you're growing up," Michael says. "You're so sure, you're overly sure. You can be detrimental to yourself. He [Jordan] wasn't really learning any lessons. He's a big guy, thinks he can do whatever he wants. And he's angry. What else was I to do? Being a parent doesn't really come with a book." :rofl:
After investigating several programs, Michael decided that The School of Urban and Wilderness Survival in Idaho would be Jordan's home for the summer. The individual attention and character building appealed to Michael, who was looking for a program that was less intense than a boot camp. SUWS is one of the many programs nationwide that treats teenage behavioral problems, including substance abuse, rebelliousness, poor academic achievement, or other psychological trauma. The program's self-proclaimed goal is to not only address the manifestations of the problem but to truly get to its root in order to instill a positive, ever-lasting change. Through four distinct phases, SUWS programs are able to build individual awareness, as well as strengthen group relationships. The first of these phases focuses on the teenager as an individual, and allows for wilderness staff to break down his or her often hard exterior. Right away, the teens are presented with a journal in which they are to record their innermost thoughts.
Popelka sees the implementation of the first phase as crucial to the success of any program.
"The first week of any program is generally spent building the illusion that it is different from traditional treatment," :question: Popelka says. "This is done through one-on-one interaction between staff and participants. The staff of wilderness therapy programs is generally younger and can relate to the participants and build trust. The stress of wilderness will lead to true behaviors emerging and from these true behaviors staff can build teachable moments."
During this time, participants are required to build their own shelter, wash their one allotted outfit, and live independently. After that initial trust is built, participants enter the second phase, in which they work together in small groups and hike about five miles every day.
In the third phase, the participants live in "families", helping to develop teamwork and cooperation. Each of the eight family members has a specific job, such as family leader, navigator, or cook. At SUWS, this phase is the longest, usually lasting about 40 days. It is this experience that enables the teens to develop their relationship building skills. Experts agree that teamwork and inter-personal relations are key components of all wilderness therapy programs.
Julie Hignell, program director for Outward Bound's Intercept, a program similar to SUWS, acknowledges the benefits of group therapy.
"Together the group works on being successful throughout the course," Hignell says. "The course is a wonderful opportunity to take on challenges in a supportive environment."
By "challenges", Hignell refers to the several tasks participants are required to perform, such as trust activities, ropes courses, or fending for themselves in the wild. One of the toughest things for Jordan was the intense 10-mile night hike.
"It definitely gave me a sense of accomplishment," he says. Some of the most meaningful experiences for Jordan were the "truth circles", in which trained counselors facilitated discussions and gave teens a place to talk about their personal issues.
"It made me feel like we were in the same boat", Jordan says. "Once you open up, you feel like you have a weight lifted off your shoulders." In the circles, Jordan listened to stories of drug addiction, abuse, and family problems. Though, according to Jordan, he was "nowhere near there [having substance abuse problems]", sharing with the group helped him to express his deepest feelings.
"I was able to figure out why I felt the way I felt," Jordan says. "In the truth circles you could express things you hadn't been able to before."
The fourth and final phase is 24 hours of complete isolation, and encompasses the self-sufficiency skills acquired throughout the course. It is also a time for the teenager to reflect on the personal changes made throughout their stay and to get ready to return home.
"I am a firm believer in the positive benefit of a solo experience placed on the tail end of the program," Popelka says. "When framed correctly it forces participants to think about their lives at home and the kind of lives they want to live. It also builds self-sufficiency, self-confidence and self-reliance."
More than thrilled to be out of Idaho, Jordan began football practice just a few days after his return. His relationship with his parents, especially the one he shares with his father, changed drastically upon his arrival back to Palo Alto.
"It definitely put a gap in our relationship," Jordan says. "I'll always have at least a hint of resentment. It wasn't a just decision to send me away. It created a lot of anger and distrust towards my parents. They didn't treat me as an adult. They should have let me know what was going on."
Since that return home over two years ago, Jordan has had plenty of time to analyze the program's impact. Although he feels that SUWS was not a necessary experience for him, he believes that the program has changed him as an individual.
"The experience gave me a broader perspective on life and how to handle your problems, like what to do if you're in trouble," Jordan says. "Just so you don't have displaced anger."
Popelka says that it is the dramatic change of atmosphere that creates space for such extreme personal growth.
"Wilderness therapy provides a fast track to building trust :question: by placing participants in an environment that forces them to step outside of their comfort zone," Popelka says. "Once this trust is built, it can be capitalized to foster positive change and solid introspection."
Jordan's main regret from his experience in wilderness therapy camp is not keeping in contact with the other teenagers, many of whom helped him to be able to open up and express his feelings in a more positive way.
"It'd be weird to just share my feelings with my friends here," Jordan says of the difference between his relationship with his school friends and the friends that he made during summer of 2005. "They just don't know what it was like to be there."
According to his father, Jordan's life has improved drastically. From his grades to his relationships to his success in sports, the lessons he learned that summer are long-lasting.
"It did tons of good," Michael says. "We found out his true ability, and so did he. It gave him a chance to realize what he has, the gifts that he has inside himself. You can't put a price on his future."
It was with Jordan's future in mind that Michael canceled his son's enrollment in football camp and handed him over to the two escorts, two years ago. Exactly what happened during those 53 days remains unbeknownst to Michael; the personal journey Jordan experienced is one that, ultimately, cannot be explained. He did get a chance, however, to meet with Jordan's counselors, and was impressed by how well they got to know his son.
"They really hold you accountable," Michael says. "There's no room for argument. They say, 'This is fact, this is how he feels. Now what can you do about it?' They got to know him almost as well as I do in only two months. I guess when you're in a place like that, with no video games or distractions ... Jordan was forced to interact with people. They got down deep."
According to Popelka, improving parent-child communication is a vital measure.
"Many programs work with the parents on communication techniques simultaneously and bring the parents and children together at the end," Popelka says. "This, in my view, is incredibly important."
Reflecting on the experience, Michael knows he made the right decision. However, Jordan and Michael still do not see eye-to-eye. While Jordan acknowledges the benefits of the program, he wishes it did not have to be done in such a drastic way. "I wish they could have really tried talking to me," Jordan says. "I wish they could have sat me down and told me that they cared about me."
Michael, on the other hand, would recommend the program in a heartbeat. Even though it was expensive, he says it was completely worth it.
"You just have to attack the problem," ::bangin:: Michael says about Jordan's prior behavior. "It's going to take him having a child for him to understand my decisions."
Unfortunately, this discrepancy between parent and child is not uncommon. While SUWS admits teenagers against their own will, other therapy programs like Outward Bound's Intercept ensure teens want to come before they arrive.
"We require that the student agree to come," Hignell says. "We interview them to learn more about what is important to them and to help us decide if we think we are the right program for the individual, and we work with the family to develop a set of incentives for following through on the commitment the student makes. 70 percent of them [our students] say they are eager to come or think it's a good idea when the application process is finished."
Intercept, however, is a very rare case. Other programs, including SUWS, leave this life-changing decision at the discretion of the parents, creating a huge debate about the morality of the programs: where is the line between sending your child away in an effort to save their life, or sending them away so you don't have to deal with them anymore?
Dr. Steve DeBois, Clinical Director for Second Nature Wilderness Program, another course similar to SUWS, believes that parents' intentions are usually genuine.
"It's understandable that they [students] are often angry and resentful when they first arrive," DeBois says. "But it's important to understand that in almost all cases, wilderness therapy is the last resort for parents who have tried everything from outpatient therapy to grounding to threats. If your child is engaging in self-destructive behavior to the point that their future and even their health is in danger, parents feel obligated to do whatever they can to keep their kids safe."
Meanwhile, Jordan and Michael's relationship has improved greatly since that June evening two years ago, though Jordan admits he still hasn't forgiven his father, and doubts he ever will.
"He's a Scorpio," Michael says jokingly. "I don't think they forgive easily." ::roflmao::
Still, both father and son agree that life experience is valuable in any teenager's journey to adulthood.
"I've learned more from trial and error," Jordan says. "It's just part of growing up. I don't really need someone over me, moving me along."
Occasionally, participants emerge from the programs with a similar resentful attitude. However, this puts the students' ability to retain the learned skills at risk. The ultimate effectiveness of the programs is still questionable, even today.
"The question of retention is one of the central questions that need to be scientifically determined," Popelka says. "My hypothesis is that some of the skills are lost as time passes, but ideally by the time the afterglow effect :rofl: diminishes the participant has developed positive coping mechanisms that work for them."
At the start of his last year of high school, Jordan's future looks bright, with possible football scholarships to acclaimed colleges in the works. Michael has been spending countless hours thinking about these decisions with his son, hoping to strengthen their relationship.
"For now, he's finding himself," Michael says. "He has to live and learn and learn from his mistakes."
While the experience as a whole put a strain on their relationship, day by day it is beginning to heal. According to Jordan, it taught him "to value the people you have around you," including his father. In the end, it is the relationships in life that really matter.
"Wilderness is merely a vehicle to facilitate change," Popelka says. "For the most part, something is gained through the experience, though it may be simply that seeds for future change have been planted." v
This story originally appeared in Verde Magazine on October 24, 2007.
