Brookes Logo
site utilities
top level navigation
E-mail NewslettersProfessional DevelopmentFor FacultyScreening and AssessmentWhat's NewBrookes Store
second level navigation

Customer ServiceBargain BooksFree ShippingBrowse Store by Subject
design element


Learn More About This Book:

Description &
Table of Contents


Read an Excerpt

Recognizing the needs and wishes of the people you serve.


Related Titles:

Positive Behavioral Support

Communication- Based Intervention for Problem Behavior







The Hierarchy of Control: "Ignore and Redirect"

From Chapter 4 of Learning to Listen: Positive Approaches and People with Difficult Behavior, by Herbert Lovett, Ph.D.

Copyright © 1996 by Paul H. Brookes Publishing Co. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.



Many people who rely on human services for help find themselves routinely ignored and redirected by systems that do not pay much attention to their wishes, much less their basic needs. Those whose behavior is particularly troublesome often find themselves the objects of programs that intentionally ignore and redirect them. Discussing these technologies is difficult because the same name can be applied in very different contexts. For example, if I am really upset about having had a frightening car accident, people who redirect me to think about something more pleasant are not really helping me if I need to talk it out. If I get confused and mix up the facts of my misfortune or keep repeating myself, my friends will overlook this and attend to my emotional needs first. People who care about me will keep me and my immediate concerns in their focus rather than impose their own needs of the moment onto me. This mutual back-and-forth sharing, of listening through someone’s bad hours and knowing that over the years they will take the time to hear yours, is one of the fundamental gifts of friendship.

One common version of ignore and redirect in polite society that I have observed is found in the etiquette of dining with people who don’t know each other very well. Every now and again, we all find ourselves eating with someone who gets a bit of food on his chin, and it bobbles about as he is talking. Unless I know this person fairly well, I have a hard time saying, “You have a distracting bit of food on your chin.” Instead, I ignore it and politely dab at my own chin, which seems to be the universally recognized sign for your fellow diner to do the same. Of course, the right side of my chin is on his left so the question arises: On which corner of my chin do I dab? Some of us, having taken this sign as a hint, wipe our napkins over both sides, for certainty’s sake. Then there is the problem of the person who is merely rubbing his chin because it itches. Ignoring and redirecting in this context is socially acceptable, but the older I get, the more I have decided that it’s considerably simpler just to ask at the beginning of this ritual, “Do I have food on my face?” I have also learned to overlook certain things with some people. Generally, I can overlook minor temporary annoyances. But in the long run, ignoring the people I care about or the problems they care about does not help them or me.

Many of the people we work for, though, have had their wishes constantly thwarted and have had to fight, sometimes violently, to make themselves heard. The ignore and redirect technologies I have seen literally ignore people’s very real emotional concerns as well as redirect people to activities that do not make the staff quite so anxious. For example, I have a friend, Michelle, whose father died suddenly. Michelle had the experience common to those who have had a sudden and wrenching loss: It makes other people uncomfortable, and they do not talk about it for fear of upsetting the grieving person. But if the saddened person herself brings the topic up or begins to cry, then it is obvious she is already upset and could use some recognition of her distress. As often happens to someone living with a sudden loss, Michelle found herself getting agitated, sometimes abruptly, and, to people who did not know her, without apparent reason. Unlike most people, though, Michelle found herself on a program where people ignored her distress and redirected her to something much safer for them, with phrases such as, “It’s time for you to go back to your work,” or “We really have to get these chores done first.”

This obviously — and dangerously — ignores what the behavior is telling us and redirects it to something irrelevant for the person. I also understand and appreciate the inhibiting fear involved. For example, someone might well be reluctant to talk to Michelle about her father’s dying if his or her own father had just died. The lost opportunity, though, is the healing that can come from sharing pain. But no one can talk about everything with everyone, and Michelle might be just the person you would least want to talk this over with or she picked a bad time for you. Why not just say that? At least it lets Michelle know the problem is in her timing or your own painful feelings and leaves her knowing that her own hurt is real — and so is yours. Changing the subject implies that grief (or whatever feeling we are ignoring) is something inappropriate, trivial, or shameful. Another person’s feelings can be annoying, embarrassing, confusing, or hurtful to me, but it is hardly my business to imply, much less label, them as inappropriate, shameful, or trivial.

Some people, for example, were nervous that once Michelle began talking about her father’s death she would never be able to stop. I know I have had the fear in dealing with some people, and I certainly had that anxiety when I began to confront my own fears and rages. But this hypothetical calamity has yet to happen to me. For better or worse, nothing lasts forever. To be sure, Michelle might take a long time to talk about her father’s death or she might need to talk about it a lot over a long period of time, but eventually she (or her behavior) will say, “There, I’ve said it.” This can only happen when, at the same time, she finally feels, “And there, you heard it!”

If Denise wants a cup of coffee or a break, it is hard to understand why someone can’t provide this for her. If Aaron’s uneasiness shows the people who know him that he would rather go for a run or a swim than sit and do a puzzle, then it seems self-defeating to persist in praising him for complying with something that is neither interesting for him nor of any earthly use to others. When people tell us (or our experience with them has taught us) they want something we can provide, the most positive approach is simply to provide it.


Learning to Listen

ORDERING INFO
ISBN 1-55766-164-2
Paperback
288 pages / 6 x 9
1996 / $34.95
Stock# 1642


Exam Copy



© Paul H. Brookes Publishing Co., Inc. | brookes store | contact us | site map | home