Unorthodox clinical methods sometimes work?

Brodie was a 14 year old problem – he had been sent in to the clinic by a children’s services agency for stealing – not just once, Brodie was an inveterate kleptomaniac. His dad had died tragically and his poor mum had 4 kids to rear, with Brodie being the eldest. Very often I find compulsive stealing is taking with the hand what is missing from the heart. Brodie was lonely and male rudderless.

Anyhow Brodie and his mum came in and after the three of us chatted, mum went out to the waiting room and Brodie and I got to know each other. We got on really well so I set up an action plan for mum and Brodie. That plan included the idea that every day mum would leave money lying around somewhere and it was Brodie’s job to walk past it repeatedly and not touch it. We also set up some trust goals at school with the year co-ordinator.

Brodie came back a few weeks’ later and mum had a grin from ear to ear. The school had reported great progress and nothing was missing from home or her bag. I was honestly surprised as we had only met once and the problem was chronically compulsive. However, I accepted mum’s thanks and called Brodie in and we discussed progress and our plan moving forward. I then got mum back in to keep her in the treatment loop.

As I was ushering mum out, the secretary whispered to me between gritted teeth, “the money is missing from the till!” Smiling at her as one should, I gritted back “how can the money be missing from the till?” To which she gritted back “I had to go to the toilet and when I came back it was gone.” With a much redder gritted face I not so politely put it to the secretary “why did you have to go to the toilet?” or something equally absurd along those lines.

Just as mum and Brodie were heading for the door I asked mum if I could see Brodie for just a minute as there was something else I needed to check on. With that a reluctant Brodie shuffled into my room, I closed the door, stood him against the wall and put it to him, that I knew he had our money in his pockets so here was the deal. If he was to disgorge all then I wouldn’t tell his mum or the school as the school had taken him off the daily behaviour report because he had “improved” so much. Brodie agreed and we parted company.

I never saw Brodie or his mum again, well that’s a lie. Years later, as I was getting a police curb-side breath test, this young officer looked at my licence and asked me whether I was the Dr John that was a kids’ psych. I owned up to that fact and he said “Doc, you won’t remember me but my name is Brodie and you saw me when I was a kid when I was in a bit of trouble at school for stealing”.

How could I ever forget!! “Yes” he said, “you actually taught me a big lesson then. I was starting to enjoy having playground Brodiee again and poor old mum was so proud of me, I didn’t want to let her down, so here I am!” My mouth just gaped, if ever I was sure I had failed a family, that was it!

My therapy techniques were not kosher, probably could have faced disciplinary action if the truth be known, but someBrodiees just being genuine and believing in kids may not work in the short term but love, trust and respect are by far the best teachers long term. I learnt a big lesson that day – not only to never leave the till unattended but the incredible power of mum’s love – the trust of a mum is probably the best curfew and behaviour manager any boy can have. To Brodie’s mum, welcome to the Humble Heroes Hall of Fame. How you did it I will never know but Brodie is terrific tesBrodieony to the power of your love.