Thursday, June 25, 2026

The Key in the Lock

 

As a senior in college, I wanted to make sure that going into the social services, in the field of mental healthcare, was something that I could be effective at. When I became aware that there was an opportunity to do a 1000- hour yearlong externship of volunteer work at QUEENS CHILDREN’S PSYCHIATRIC CENTER on the grounds of CREEDMORE PSYCHIATRIC CENTER, working with autistic children, some who also had multiple brain damage, I jumped at the opportunity to do something constructive and gain real- world experience before investing additional time and money into this field. The program consisted of working four hours per day, five days per week, for a 50-week year and being incorporated into the curriculum for these children. It included writing up progress reports and attending case- worker meetings as a member of the team for each assigned child.

B.F. Skinner was a professor at Harvard University who used behavioral modification to teach and alter behavior in patients, but he was criticized for his use of negative reinforcement for poor behavior. In the application of his techniques that we were to use, only positive reinforcement would be implemented to teach basic concepts such as identifying colors, basic mathematics, vocabulary and other elementary concepts. Praise, art& crafts, or treats such as favorite cookies or candy were employed to elicit a correct response depending on the preferences of the child. Progress was extremely slow, and most of the time it was statistically insignificant. It was difficult to come to work each day fully intending to accomplish something positive to improve the lives of these institutionalized children that I cared for when the desired outcome was rarely achieved. After a while the skeleton key that I used to enter the ward would alert my children of my arrival and they would come running down the hallway to greet me in their own way.

Over time and in different circumstances, I observed that many of the professionals who worked with these children seemed burned-out, physically present and completing their work, but without an emotional attachment. I’m sure that they had gone into this line of work with the best of intentions, but the daily grind had ground them down like an emotional gristmill. This must have been a sad realization after dedicating their lives to this work. I completed the program and received my certification at a dinner in our honor, although I had already decided that this line of work was not for me.

Ten years later, as a young father, I came home from work one day and put the key in the lock of our door and I heard my children running and yelling Daddy is home, Daddy is home! and as I opened the door and was assaulted by my army of little tykes I

realized in a moment of epiphany how my children from all those years ago had viewed my arrival on the ward each day. Those children entered the age of majority many years ago and most likely entered the adult population. The building is gone now, but I still wonder sometimes at how those unfortunate children fared in their challenging lives.




Jim -June 26’

Writing Assignment: The Devil's Dictionary"

 

Street Sweeper; an odd shaped vehicle that pushes leaves and trash from one side of the street to the other but never picks it up
Blender an electrical appliance that flips its lid without a moment's warning
Drone mechanical busy body having no regard or respect for the privacy of humans
Ellen G.

Writing Assignment: "REVISION"

 

My Comfy House

My house is a very comfortable home. I have lived in it for forty years. It is really time to redecorate but I don’t have that much cash lying around.

One early morning, I put the coffee pot on as I usually do. While I was waiting for the coffee to finish perking, I started watching the vapors rise from the top of the pot. All of a sudden, a beautiful genie, dressed in pink, formed out of the vapors. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” I asked in a fearful voice. The genie answered, “I am the household genie who came to redecorate your house.” She continued, "If you’ll let me, I will add a room on your second floor that will be just glorious..” She whispered in my ear her plans for the remodeling. When the genie was done filling me in, she got to work and designed a magical room,


Revised Copy

Coffee Pot Remodeling

Early one morning, I put the coffee pot on as usual. While waiting for the coffee to finish perking, I started watching the vapors rise from the top of the pot. All of a sudden, a beautiful genie, dressed in pink, as bright as a flamingo, formed out of the vapors. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” I asked in a cautious voice. The genie answered in a voice as smooth as peanut butter being spread on a piece of bread, “I am the decorating genie who comes to remodel your house.” She continued, “If you’ll let me, I will add a room to the second floor that will be just magnificent.” She whispered her plans for the changes in my ear. When the genie was done filling me in on her plans, she got to work and designed a beautiful room filled with magical touches.


Ellen G.

Re: "Noun"

 Cat Owner, noun: a person who believes they are the managed human of a small, furry, whiskered supervisor who is utterly convinced he runs the household.


Georgia

Epiphany

 

I had an epiphany the other day when I thought my cat was being aloof, but then realized in fact he was monitoring me with quiet, professional kitty curiosity. 
He treats “our” home as his territory, and I’m just one part of his operation. 
He scans each room, making mental notes of anything that’s changed. 
Even the way he sits—eyes half‑open; paws tucked neatly under his body—looks like he’s evaluating the space. 
He isn’t aloof at all; he’s simply gathering data, making sure our home runs smoothly. 

Georgia

Saturday, June 13, 2026

Time Disappeared

 

I looked up from my painting, thinking only an hour had passed. The cerulean watercolor was almost dry on the palette. It was total darkness outside; the afternoon light had faded into night. My tea was completely cold, and I forgot it was there. It was bizarre, as if my mind stepped away into a parallel dimension. I didn’t regret a single second lost, though I was violently hungry.


Georgia

I Heard the Morning Birds

 

The little crowd of feathered optimist blackbirds swooped and glided into the warm morning light. 
I think they were showing off to the sparrows. 
They hop along the railing, waiting for the bread I set on the windowsill every morning. 
Confident that breakfast will simply appear. 
They trust that I’ll provide for them, and that trust feels like its own small comfort. 
Their chatter rises loud and bright, reminding me how even the darkest birds can make an ordinary day feel extraordinary. 

The Key in the Lock

  As a senior in college, I wanted to make sure that going into the social services, in the field of mental healthcare, was something that I...