This is fascinating. I'd heard/read about Delancey Street before but as a trauma recovery professional, a lot of their practices really pain me. I'm all for alternative ideas of how to approach collective issues like incarceration and rehabilitation (or habilitation as they put it). But without addressing the fundamental trauma that led to their behaviors and actions in the first place, I fear that most of them are not actually improving their lives or transforming into a "new person." Because the thing is -- you can push all of that trauma and past stuff down down down, especially in a setting like Delancey Street or The Other Academy, but it's like a beach ball underwater... at some point, it IS going to come back up and the question then becomes... have these convicts been given the tools and the support to then deal with whatever comes up or will they have to regress to their former selves in order to cope or deal with the trauma because they were not allowed to properly process it? Just some food for thought! Thanks for this illuminating piece!
I do think they are all processing everything, the people I met there didn't give up "pushing it all down" vibes. In fact, they were actively working their stuff out together. (The Games!!!) But I definitely have similar concerns. For instance, I think the question this is all circling is: is it even possible to come back from addiction? Is the best thing we can do to keep it at bay for awhile? Because this seems to be the most hopeful program I've seen, and it's still not immune from the rebound effect.
This is fantastic to hear -- especially from what you witnessed. I love the games aspect as well. I guess just hearing some of their practices of "leaving it all behind, the past is the past" is so often the exact sticking point for survivors of trauma to move forward. I don't subscribe to the belief that people need to stay in the past either. Recovery from most things is never linear. It's always cyclical and moves in layers. But I so appreciate your response and that you were able to see things from a real in-person perspective!
Sounds better than prison, as are most jobs. Also sounds like a dystopian achievement of total life control that many (refraining from saying "most," though it feels like it) employers would love to achieve over their employees. The removing your piercing part really bothered me. So did not talking about your past, though I get the logic.
PS. Also, the "character issue" quote...I want to point out that I'm not sure that's accurate even scientifically. Traumas and markers (both physiological and psychological) that can cause relapse last for years, and many are tied to environment. So yes, you may have gotten "clean" within a prison environment, but chances are you still have triggers in your body that would be activated in other contexts
Yes, I think the underlying question is: is it even possible to come back from addiction? Is the best thing we can do to keep it at bay for awhile? Because this seems to be the most hopeful program I've seen, but it's pretty hands on, and it's still not immune from the rebound effect. To your point, I've interviewed people in prison who say "it feels so good to be clean, I don't know if I could be like this outside of prison." Without that forcing hand, it can be very difficult!
At least three nights a week, new residents participate in “Games,” confrontational group sessions where they’re encouraged to let out the anger and irritation built up over long days of tedious work. Beforehand, they request to “play” with those who have gotten on their nerves by submitting forms in a box in the cafeteria. After dinner, groups of about 20 are called off to rooms where they sit in a circle. There are a few ground rules: no threatening, no getting out of your seat. Some topics—like a person’s appearance and family—are off-limits. Most swear words are allowed, but some offensive epithets like “cunt” and “fag” are not. The focus then turns to piling criticism on one member of the group, while, ideally, pointing out how to fix their problematic behavior—before moving on to the next participant.
...
The verbal sparring is helpful for some residents but painful for others. “If words could cut, they’d have a trauma unit in Delancey Street,” one former resident told me. “Most of our clients come to us with a degree of PTSD. A lot of them suffered greatly as children,” said Sinha, the former public defender. “I question the necessity and efficacy of any treatment that requires them to undergo more trauma.” Another lawyer in the San Francisco Public Defender’s Office recounted checking in with a client at Delancey. “This is a grown man in his early 50s, a tough guy. He sat there and said, ‘I’ve gotta tell you, I’ve been crying with my head in my hands. Can you arrange for me to go back to jail?’”
Some residents do just that. In 2017, Regino, then in his late 20s, arrived at Delancey in San Francisco. He was hopeful that Delancey would give him the opportunity to get back on track and avoid the four-year prison sentence he was facing for stealing a car while he was using meth. He’d heard good things about the program—how it helps you get bank credit, a driver’s license, a job. “It’s a way of a new life,” he recalled. “That’s something that I was really looking forward to.” Regino, who is bipolar, weaned himself off his psych meds in jail so he could attend the program. Naturally conflict-averse, he contends that he didn’t know about “Games” until he arrived. “You have 10 guys yelling at the top of their lungs and cussing at you and all ganging up on you. I just shut down when they did that,” Regino said over the phone from the California Institution for Men in Chino, California. After five months at Delancey, he walked out and enrolled in a different program, violating the terms of his probation. A judge sent him back to jail.
...
Even successful Delancey graduates acknowledge it doesn’t work out for everyone. Bilbrey showed me a photo of his former moving crew: more than two dozen strapping guys in green work shirts. “Out of about 30 people there, I think only seven or eight of them are now what I would call well-adjusted taxpayers, working jobs, back to their families, not selling drugs.” When I mentioned to Cipolla that former residents have called Delancey’s practices abusive, she bristled. “If you think it’s abusive, then fuck off and don’t do it,” she said. “You choose: You can go to prison or you can do what has worked for thousands and thousands of people and not cry like a little bitch.”
This is fascinating. I'd heard/read about Delancey Street before but as a trauma recovery professional, a lot of their practices really pain me. I'm all for alternative ideas of how to approach collective issues like incarceration and rehabilitation (or habilitation as they put it). But without addressing the fundamental trauma that led to their behaviors and actions in the first place, I fear that most of them are not actually improving their lives or transforming into a "new person." Because the thing is -- you can push all of that trauma and past stuff down down down, especially in a setting like Delancey Street or The Other Academy, but it's like a beach ball underwater... at some point, it IS going to come back up and the question then becomes... have these convicts been given the tools and the support to then deal with whatever comes up or will they have to regress to their former selves in order to cope or deal with the trauma because they were not allowed to properly process it? Just some food for thought! Thanks for this illuminating piece!
I do think they are all processing everything, the people I met there didn't give up "pushing it all down" vibes. In fact, they were actively working their stuff out together. (The Games!!!) But I definitely have similar concerns. For instance, I think the question this is all circling is: is it even possible to come back from addiction? Is the best thing we can do to keep it at bay for awhile? Because this seems to be the most hopeful program I've seen, and it's still not immune from the rebound effect.
This is fantastic to hear -- especially from what you witnessed. I love the games aspect as well. I guess just hearing some of their practices of "leaving it all behind, the past is the past" is so often the exact sticking point for survivors of trauma to move forward. I don't subscribe to the belief that people need to stay in the past either. Recovery from most things is never linear. It's always cyclical and moves in layers. But I so appreciate your response and that you were able to see things from a real in-person perspective!
Wow!
Sounds better than prison, as are most jobs. Also sounds like a dystopian achievement of total life control that many (refraining from saying "most," though it feels like it) employers would love to achieve over their employees. The removing your piercing part really bothered me. So did not talking about your past, though I get the logic.
PS. Also, the "character issue" quote...I want to point out that I'm not sure that's accurate even scientifically. Traumas and markers (both physiological and psychological) that can cause relapse last for years, and many are tied to environment. So yes, you may have gotten "clean" within a prison environment, but chances are you still have triggers in your body that would be activated in other contexts
Yes, I think the underlying question is: is it even possible to come back from addiction? Is the best thing we can do to keep it at bay for awhile? Because this seems to be the most hopeful program I've seen, but it's pretty hands on, and it's still not immune from the rebound effect. To your point, I've interviewed people in prison who say "it feels so good to be clean, I don't know if I could be like this outside of prison." Without that forcing hand, it can be very difficult!
This reminds me so much of this profile of Delancey Street -- clearly a similar model: https://www.motherjones.com/criminal-justice/2020/07/delancey-street-foundation-san-francisco-rehab/
---------------------------------------------
At least three nights a week, new residents participate in “Games,” confrontational group sessions where they’re encouraged to let out the anger and irritation built up over long days of tedious work. Beforehand, they request to “play” with those who have gotten on their nerves by submitting forms in a box in the cafeteria. After dinner, groups of about 20 are called off to rooms where they sit in a circle. There are a few ground rules: no threatening, no getting out of your seat. Some topics—like a person’s appearance and family—are off-limits. Most swear words are allowed, but some offensive epithets like “cunt” and “fag” are not. The focus then turns to piling criticism on one member of the group, while, ideally, pointing out how to fix their problematic behavior—before moving on to the next participant.
...
The verbal sparring is helpful for some residents but painful for others. “If words could cut, they’d have a trauma unit in Delancey Street,” one former resident told me. “Most of our clients come to us with a degree of PTSD. A lot of them suffered greatly as children,” said Sinha, the former public defender. “I question the necessity and efficacy of any treatment that requires them to undergo more trauma.” Another lawyer in the San Francisco Public Defender’s Office recounted checking in with a client at Delancey. “This is a grown man in his early 50s, a tough guy. He sat there and said, ‘I’ve gotta tell you, I’ve been crying with my head in my hands. Can you arrange for me to go back to jail?’”
Some residents do just that. In 2017, Regino, then in his late 20s, arrived at Delancey in San Francisco. He was hopeful that Delancey would give him the opportunity to get back on track and avoid the four-year prison sentence he was facing for stealing a car while he was using meth. He’d heard good things about the program—how it helps you get bank credit, a driver’s license, a job. “It’s a way of a new life,” he recalled. “That’s something that I was really looking forward to.” Regino, who is bipolar, weaned himself off his psych meds in jail so he could attend the program. Naturally conflict-averse, he contends that he didn’t know about “Games” until he arrived. “You have 10 guys yelling at the top of their lungs and cussing at you and all ganging up on you. I just shut down when they did that,” Regino said over the phone from the California Institution for Men in Chino, California. After five months at Delancey, he walked out and enrolled in a different program, violating the terms of his probation. A judge sent him back to jail.
...
Even successful Delancey graduates acknowledge it doesn’t work out for everyone. Bilbrey showed me a photo of his former moving crew: more than two dozen strapping guys in green work shirts. “Out of about 30 people there, I think only seven or eight of them are now what I would call well-adjusted taxpayers, working jobs, back to their families, not selling drugs.” When I mentioned to Cipolla that former residents have called Delancey’s practices abusive, she bristled. “If you think it’s abusive, then fuck off and don’t do it,” she said. “You choose: You can go to prison or you can do what has worked for thousands and thousands of people and not cry like a little bitch.”
You're right! Delancey Street was their inspiration!!!!!!!