The Desirable Mrs Hawke
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Deprogrammed: The Hawke Institute free porn video
DEPROGRAMMED: THE HAWKE INSTITUTE
CHAPTER I
"I can't get to him. We could continue in therapy for a hundred years
and I would never be able to reach him. In order for traditional
psychotherapy to work, some part of the patient has to want to change.
Jim doesn't want to change at all. He likes himself. He likes the way
he believes and he likes the way he behaves. No part of him wants to
change. We are wasting my time and your money." Dr. Roberts folded his
hands on the file on his desk and looked at the couple sitting across
from him.
Jim's parents, Susan and Richard Peterman, sagged into their chairs.
Dr. Roberts had been their last hope for their 17-year-old son. And now
he was telling them there was no more hope.
It had all started simply enough. Five years earlier, just as he was
beginning puberty, Jim was a sweet sky kid. He had always been small
for his age and as a result had always been the target of school
bullies. Richard, in order to give Jim some confidence, had innocently
suggested that he take a martial arts class. Richard figured that
engaging in a little physical activity would be a good idea for Jim,
who tended to live only in the mental part of his body. Jim could sit
for hours in front of the computer, playing games and sending emails.
He had never been comfortable doing anything that required physical
prowess.
To their surprise Jim really took to the martial arts class. He
developed almost a hero worship for the leader of the dojo, the place
where the classes were held. He proved surprisingly adept at learning
the various moves in the classes. Susan and Richard didn't understand
it at all but they were pleased that Jim had finally found some
physical activity he enjoyed. And true to their hopes, they noticed an
increased confidence in Jim. He no longer slumped along as he walked.
He held himself upright, looking the world in the eyes.
The glow from Jim's new activity started to grow dark, however. The
class included some older boys who were not the kind of kids Susan and
Richard would choose for Jim to hang around with. The worst of these
was Steven. Steven looked like a hood, no other way to say it. He was
about 17 when Susan and Richard became aware of him. Jim started
talking not about the dojo's instructor but about Steven, in the same
kind of hero worship way. When Susan first met Steve as she picked up
Jim after a class, she was shocked. He had tattoos on both arms, long
greasy hair, and a scruffy attempt at a Vandyke beard. Susan learned
from Jim that Steven had dropped out of school in his junior year and
now worked on a loading dock at a trucking firm. Perhaps even more
disturbing than the fact that Steven had tattoos was the nature of
those tattoos. On his right bicep, he had a swastika split by a
lightening bolt. On his left bicep, he had a skull and crossbow around
which the words "White Power" were written. Steven was an unapologetic
believer in white supremacy.
Susan and Richard had always taught Jim to respect all people and all
races. White supremacy was as far from their personal beliefs as you
could get. They forbad Jim to have anything to do with Steven. They
withdrew him from the dojo. It was only when Jim came home some months
later with his own swastika decorating his right bicep that they
learned that Jim had continued to keep in touch with Steven. When Susan
and Richard tried to impose discipline on Jim, their efforts were
greeted with further outrageous behavior by their son. He began
collecting white supremacists literature. More dangerously, he adopted
a new hobby; he became fascinated with knives and martial arts weapons
like throwing stars and num-chucks. Jim, with his martial arts training
and his new weapons, suddenly became a very frightening figure to his
parents.
His outbursts of anger increased over time. Once when Susan tried to
keep him from going out shortly after he had turned 16, Jim had turned
on her with teeth bared. He kicked towards his mother, barely missing
her head and kicking a large hole in the dining room wall... The
outburst was so sudden and so threatening, Susan had wet her pants.
Satisfied that he had intimidated her, Jim turned and walked out.
The behavior had only accelerated after that with Jim becoming more and
more indoctrinated in the hateful white supremacist philosophy. More
and more, Susan and Richard felt like prisoners in their own home,
locking the door at night against their son.
Richard and Susan's mutual reverie was interrupted by Dr. Roberts'
slight cough.
"I am sorry I can not help Jim. I have worked with any number of very
difficult cases and I have never met anyone quite so destructive and
resistant to therapy as your son. It's like he has taken all those
years when he was the victim of the bullying, condensed it and is now
redirecting out towards the world and particularly people of color.
It's almost as if something has gotten shaken loose in his head as the
result of his martial arts; that not all the brain cells are connecting
as they should. I have read where young people who sustain blows to
their heads during sports can suffer brain damage where the judgment
centers of their brains are affected. I suspect Jim is showing signs of
this kind of brain damage, to have such a quick and total change of
personality.
"There is something else I need to tell you," Dr. Roberts continued.
"Under the code of confidentiality, I am not allowed to discuss my
patients' mental status with anyone. I cannot even be compelled to
testify in court as to what a patient tells me. The only exception to
that rule is if I am convinced that a patient poses an immediate threat
of danger to himself or others. Then I am allowed, indeed required, to
file a report with the police. Jim is very close to this standard. I am
very concerned that he may harm you or perhaps the next African-
American who crosses him in the slightest. You told me about his
kicking the wall. I think he missed you on purpose that time. I don't
think he will miss the next time.
"What I am saying is that your son is very disturbed. He is, I am sure,
going to hurt someone if he doesn't get proper treatment. If you don't
immediately arrange for such treatment, I feel I have no choice but to
report my concerns to the police. I am greatly concerned about what
might happen after that."
Susan started to weep. Richard was ashen.
"What do we do? We were told you were the best therapist available for
Jim. Now you tell us you can't do anything. Where do we go next?"
Dr. Roberts reached into his middle desk drawer, pulled out a business
card and handed it to Richard. On it was the name Jonathan Hawke, Ph.D,
listed as the Director of Therapy at a place called simply the Hawke
Institute. The address was some distance across town from where Susan
and Richard lived.
"I would refer you to Dr. Hawke. He has made a name for himself in
handling what otherwise seem to be impossible cases."
"Why haven't we heard of him or of his Institute?" Susan asked.
"He doesn't take cases except on referral from other psychologists. He
doesn't advertise in the yellow pages. You really wouldn't know of him
or his Institute unless you were specifically referred to him. He
handles only the most intractable cases. His primary emphasis is on de-
programming."
Both Susan and Richard looked surprised. "Does Jim need de-programming?
I thought that was just for people who belonged to a cult or
something." Richard said.
"That is the most common concept. But as Dr. Hawke views it, de-
programming applies to any sort of belief or behavioral system that is
destructive to the patient or those around him. I think Jim's belief
system and corresponding behaviors meets Dr. Hawke's guidelines. I
think Jim needs to unlearn, whether he wants to or not, the aggressive,
angry behaviors and beliefs he has surrounded himself with these last
three years. I think Dr. Hawke and his Institute are the place for Jim
to accomplish that."
Richard looked again at the card. "Looks like we have no choice but to
call Dr. Hawke."
Dr. Roberts looked at them sympathetically. "I am afraid that's true.
And soon. Very soon."
CHAPTER II
Susan and Richard were now sitting in the office of Jonathan Hawke. The
man's name fit him. He had piercing eyes set over a hawklike nose. He
sat tensed at his desk, like a bird of prey in a tree.
He flipped through the file Susan and Richard had brought from Dr.
Roberts.
"Did Dr. Roberts explain my approach?" he asked abruptly.
"Not at all. He merely said you were having success in de-programming
difficult cases. He thought our son fit into your kind of case."
Richard replied.
"He very well might. He certainly was resistant to Dr. Roberts'
approach and Roberts is no slouch when it comes to handling hard cases.
Roberts didn't explain at all what my de-programming approach does?"
"No, he did not, doctor." Though Hawke was brusque, Richard found
himself warming to the man. Something about him conveyed a seriousness
of purpose and a confidence that Richard found reassuring.
"The people who come to me are seriously messed up. They may have ay
number of problems but the one thing they have in common is that they
themselves don't want to get better. They are just fine with who they
are and the way they act. If other people have a problem with that,
they think, that's the other guy's problems.
"So we have an uncooperative and in most cases dangerous clientele here
at the Institute. It is necessary for us to first gain control of these
people and then systematically break them down." He said this last with
extra emphasis, looking straight into Richard's eyes. "How far we have
to break them down depends on each case. But we attack them at the very
base of their being, their self-identity and value system."
Again, Hawke peered hard at Richard and Susan, "We are not unlike Dr.
Frankenstein from the old monster movies. Only we take people apart
mentally and put them back together from their own parts. We throw out
the bad, hopefully, and keep the good. It is a wrenching and time-
consuming process. The person who checks into our Institute is not the
same person who checks out. If he or she is, we have failed. Not only
is he not the same person, he may be unrecognizable mentally,
emotionally and physically. We do what we have to do to turn society's
most dysfunctional people into productive members of our community."
"Can you explain the process?" Susan asked.
"I can but it is a bit pointless because each person requires some
modification according to their own needs. You were referred here by
Dr. Roberts. I agree with his assessment that Jim is an appropriate
candidate for our program. As I understand it, you have no other
options. We are a private, in-patient, intensive therapy program. If
you want, we will accept Jim as a patient and we will do for him what
we have done for hundreds of other patients. We will remake him into a
good person, one able to function well and safely in society. If you
don't want to place him here, then I thank you for coming and would
wish you good day."
Again surprised by Hawke's brusque manner, Richard and Susan looked at
each other. Hawke was right. They had no other choices and if they
didn't do anything Roberts was going to report Jim to the police as a
potential danger to himself or others. That would result in Jim being
placed in the state hospital 174 miles away where he would receive
virtually no treatment at all, just be medicated and warehoused. As
difficult as Jim had made their lives the last few years, they felt
they owed him this one more chance at salvation.
Turning back to Hawke, with lumps in their throats, both Susan and
Richard nodded their assent. "We will arrange to have him brought here
Monday." Richard said.
It was Hawke's turn to nod, a solemn acceptance of the overwhelming
task of trying to save someone who didn't want to be saved.
TO BE CONTINUED
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