Tip of the Spear

Tip of the Spear

John Paul Derryberry

I'm using our rowing machine in our basement. A combination of wind and cold has me not working out outside today. A fact that, once my friends read this blog, will have them questioning my love of winter. But even this lover of the winter wonderland stays inside on occasion, much like summer lovers do when it's above 95 degrees outside. My wife watches her cooking shows, and our 9-year-old trail dog is curled on the couch. He's not as spry as he used to be, but he still loves the trail, at a lower mileage than in his prime. My two daughters, one in a sequined dress with a train, and the other, with barely any clothing on, play with their Barbies. It's a scene from my beautiful life.

It also motivates most of my work with storytelling, emotional and mental health, and community building. I'm not the only one who deserves to sit around in their house and soak in the good life. I'm not the only one who should defeat their demons and bask in the glow of growing the best parts of my personality and allowing the weaker ones to shrink. I have always found it odd that some find the motivation to turn a life around, only to shut the door behind them, so others can not walk through it. Or those who work in the field of changing lives, to actively work against their clients achieving an equal lifestyle. It would be a slap in the staff's face, if somehow their client surpassed them, yet that should be the goal.

It was explained to me years ago by a mentor, through the metaphor of a spear. He elegantly laid out how most people helping the less fortunate do it out of pity for them, not respect for what they offer the world. They use the spear and tell the client to grab on, and I'll pull you to safety. But if that client doesn't do as told, or grows in a way that lessens the staff, they pull it back and use it as a weapon. They are the great person saving them from the bad parts of life, and the client should be forever grateful that this interaction occurred. He stated that a select few staff learn the best way to help folks is at the pressure point, the tip of the spear, where both staff and the client have the chance for great success and risk. It's where transformation occurs, but it's a scary place for all.

I hope I did my best at explaining the tip of the spear because it's where I try to position myself as much as possible. Not because I want to be this great savior; I want the exact opposite; I want the people I help to know we can be equals in life, that we can leave an impact on each other, that I should grow from our interaction, just as they should grow from interacting with me. It's where the good stuff happens, but where significant risk comes and great success comes. But that's the point of a career like mine: to position people to get better means positioning yourself for risk, with guard rails such as ethics, policies, and other trusted staff to help you.

That's why my motivation for the field must move deeper than just wanting to help people. Lots of people want to help, but for people to want your help, it has to mean more. It has to be rooted in a beautiful snowy morning in a basement with your family and saying" "Man, I've got it so good, I want others to have their version of this." We only find that at the tip of the spear, where we both risk, and can find success.