Being Happy, Anyway, With Glenn

Healthy versus Unhealthy Relationships

Glenn Heap — Sat, 20 Mar 2021 14:00:00 +0000

Did you know that one in three women will experience physical violence, rape or stalking from an intimate partner? What characteristics are common in healthy, unhealthy and abusive relationships? Jessica Muñoz, LCSW, leads us in a discussion using a chart from the National Domestic Violence Hotline’s Website. We compare and contrast healthy, unhealthy and abusive relationships in the following areas: communication, respect, trust, honesty, equality and personal time. You may change a behavior or two after watching the video.

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Preparing for Adversity Since Life Can Be Unfair

Glenn Heap — Fri, 25 Dec 2020 04:19:16 +0000

As a young man I worked as a counselor in a group home for adolescent boys that had experienced trouble with the law. The teens were from urban neighborhoods in the San Francisco Bay Area, two hours south of our rural Mendocino County facility. Most of them had been incarcerated and upon their release were sent to our location as a sort of halfway house. Their probation officers would visit them monthly to check on their progress. Their prevalent defiance, anger, and uninterest in academics presented challenges to living peacefully together While all hoped to return to their Bay Area homes, some fell back to their previous habits.

There was never a dull moment.

Our group home was called Bachmann Hill School was located between the towns of Boonville and Philo on Highway 128. The boys lived in a cluster of cottages. On an adjacent property the county had brought in some portable classrooms in which credentialed teachers taught them. As counselors, we worked 3 or 4 day shifts each week. It was a very demanding job. When I say we worked a 3 day shift, it was 72 hours straight. There were fights to break up, chores to supervise, and homework to help with. From 11 pm to 7 am a night watchman arrived to check on each boy every 15 minute minutes while we counselors slept. If a boy got out of bed, we counselors we notified so that we could deal with it.

We were always happy when we discovered things that the boys enjoyed doing, especially if it kept them engaged, gave them joy and tired them out, so that we could all sleep at night.

Many of the boys loved to play basketball and organizing games on our outdoor hoop kept them active and occupied in something positive.

I thought it might be a good distraction for them to be able to play against some of the local high school teams. I thought it would be a refreshing to get away from the facility and to do something a little different. I thought it might give them a sense of freedom while bringing us together as a team. I thought it was a long shot than anyone would agree to play us due to liability or calendaring issues.

I contacted some of the local small high school coaches to see if they might have a little availability on their schedules for us to be able to travel to their gyms to play. (Our solo outdoor basketball hoop on the property wouldn’t be sufficient to host any games.) I was pleased and surprised, frankly, that nine different coaches agreed to play us.

We were excited for our first game, but unfortunately several of our players argued with the referees when they felt the calls were unfair. Their cussing, yelling and general disrespect led to multiple technical fouls being called against us. During half-time, most of our players stepped outside to smoke cigarettes. As their coach, I wondered if I had made a mistake in setting up these competitions.

The other counselors and I discussed what to do. First of all, my assistant coach prohibited smoking during the game. He told them that seeing your opponent smoking encouraged the other team that they could outrun us.

We decided that the kids needed to get used to bad calls being made and to practice not reacting in a negative way to the referees. Referees aren’t perfect. There would certainly be times when incorrect calls would be made against us. (Of course, sometimes incorrect calls would favor us, too, but that is rarely acknowledged.)

We came up with a plan to help them practice dealing with adversity, even unfairness.

During the next practice we got the boys together to inform them that two of us counselors were going to be referees during the ensuing intrasquad practice game. We would purposely be making bad calls. Any arguing with us would result in a two shot technical and the opponent getting the ball. They had a really hard time initially. But as their arguing resulted in technicals, their teammates started telling them to knock off the complaining. It wasn’t going to do any good. The refs were not going to change their calls. They have a better chance of winning by just staying quiet and enduring. After several practices the arguing was almost extinguished.

Our next competition was a four team tournament. When the referees called fouls on our boys, whether the calls were correct or not, we just played on. There was no smoking at halftime either. We were the only team that was not assessed a technical foul.

At the award ceremony we were presented the sportsmanship trophy.

The boys, the other counselors and I were happy to take the unlikely trophy back to Bachman Hill School.

How to Let Go of Road Rage and Grudges

Glenn Heap — Sun, 20 Dec 2020 14:00:00 +0000

When I was 16 and aggressive drivers cut me off, I thought it showed strength to chase them down, flip them off and cut them off right back. When my friend didn’t pay up on a bet, I thought that charging him a dollar a day interest would teach him a lesson and that giving him the silent treatment would show him who’s boss and give me justice. Instead it led to a cold war between my friend Mike and me that lasted for six months. Oh, how I missed talking to my good friend. I’m grateful for Mike’s dad, who taught me that getting angry on the road takes away from my own happiness, and that good friendships don’t have to end over money. We then listen in as Paul McCartney recounts to James Corden that after his mother died during his teenage years, amidst his grief and fear, that his mother, Mary, came to him in a dream and encouraged him to “Let it Be,” and that everything would be alright. We then join in with Paul and James for our customary Sing Along.

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The Boy Without A Partner

Glenn Heap — Sat, 14 Nov 2020 14:00:00 +0000

“Where’s Donna?” I panicked. Barry Manilow’s “Jump, Shout Boogie” started blasting over the speakers of the Oakland Interstake Center. “Just start dancing and she’ll come, ” I remember being told. We had practiced for four months and it was the big night. Time passed and I was dancing the swing dance by myself. What do I do? Should I walk off the floor? Have you ever felt abandoned and alone? Have people let you down? What should you do when that happens?

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My Son and the Light Bulb (It’s OK to Say No)

Glenn Heap — Mon, 09 Nov 2020 06:21:08 +0000

One evening I was caring for my 18-month-old son after I had put his older sisters to bed. My wife was at an evening class at Cal State LA. I carried my son into the garage to get something. The lightbulb in our garage door opener had burned out. As I reached up and unscrewed it my son saw the cylindrical, shiny light bulb and excitedly said, “Ball!”
I corrected him, “It’s NOT a ball, it’s a lightbulb. You can’t play with it!” He was having nothing of that. I began to search for a new light bulb in the cabinet drawers but had no luck. I set my son down on the concrete floor of the garage so that I could find a light bulb. He continued to cry for the “ball.” I was having trouble finding the new lightbulb and my son was starting to bother me. I decided to just hand him the lightbulb. No sooner had I done that, he threw the lightbulb on the concrete expecting it to bounce. It shattered into fragmented pieces. My son then picked up a little piece of glass and cut his hand. I felt like such a fool. It was my responsibility to say “no” and to stay firm because I knew the dangers invoked that an 18 month old didn’t.

I would rather that he had been a little angry at me instead of cutting his hand in my care.
After cleaning him up, comforting him and putting the new lightbulb in the garage I had some time to think.
Good parenting involves setting limits. Sometimes we know more than our children do. They don’t always fully understand the risks involved with some of the activities they want to engage in. In this case my son mistakenly believe that the light bulb, since it was a sphere, would bounce like a ball. He thought I was being mean by not letting him play with it in the way he thought it would function. One option would’ve been to say no to the light bulb but to get him a ball from the closet. Maybe I could have thrown the light bulb (or let him throw it) into a trash can. He would’ve seen that it shattered and didn’t bounce.
It’s ok to say no and to divert our children to something that won’t hurt them.

Watch Your Step, Vero

Glenn Heap — Mon, 09 Nov 2020 06:12:03 +0000

When my oldest daughter Veronica was in kindergarten she would take the bus home from school. I would push a double stroller carrying her three-year-old sister and newborn baby brother on a four block walk to the bus stop and back each morning and mid-day. One day at noon as I pushed the stroller on our way to pick up my daughter after school I tripped and almost fell. As I looked back I saw that one piece of sidewalk was significantly higher than the adjacent one. It looked like tree roots had lifted that piece dangerously higher than the other. After we picked up my kindergartener we headed back on that same sidewalk. As we approached the uneven sidewalk I paused and advised Veronica about it. I let her know that I had almost fallen after tripping on it. “Let’s be careful each day as we approach this tree and step carefully so that we don’t fall.” She listened and was in agreement.

On occasion I have heard parents tell me that they feel that they cannot warn their children about certain dangerous or otherwise unhealthy behaviors because they themselves, when younger, participated in them. Many of them have regrets because of decisions that they made. Some have told me that they feel hypocritical advising their child against doing something that they themselves did.
If I had tripped and fallen on the uneven sidewalk, should I have felt it was hypocritical for me to warn Veronica about the uneven sidewalk? Of course not. I might even share with her the pain I felt due to my fall. While I can’t force my child to be aware of an even sidewalk or of a rather risky or dangerous behavior, I do feel it’s my duty to lovingly and clearly advise them about things that I think are dangerous or unwise for them to participate in.

We can teach others to learn from our mistakes, whether intentional and unintentional.

DMV Workers: My Inspiration

Glenn Heap — Mon, 09 Nov 2020 06:03:45 +0000

I find inspiration in watching the workers from the Department of Motor Vehicles. One of the first times I was there I remember feeling frustrated. There were lines out the door. Most of the workers were working at a regular pace. “Work faster!” I thought. “Don’t you see the lines out the door ?!” Sometimes I would notice them talking amongst themselves. “What?!?” I screamed in my head.

When I worked at Arby’s and at Jack in the Box we had breakfast, lunch and dinner rushes. During those periods we worked extra fast. No time to chat amongst ourselves about sports, school, romance, etc. As the lines thinned we’d slow down. When there were few or no customers we’d chat amongst ourselves as we worked.

As I got older and had visited the DMV more frequently, I realized that no matter what time of the day I went, the lines were out the door. (And, yes, I eventually learned that I could make an appointment which saved me time.). I realized that lots of workers in California DMV’s rarely have much down time. The line is almost always long. Who can work 100 miles an hour, all day long, every day?
Good for them for pacing themselves, I concluded.
We can all learn from that. While there may be times that we have to push ourselves, we need to have balance.
A college student may have to stay up all night to finish a project, a parent of a new born may have oft-interrupted sleep for a few months, there may be times when meals are skipped due to busy schedules, etc. In the short term we can survive moments like this, but they should be the exception rather than the rule.
We need to take care of ourselves and monitor ourselves. We can’t be in crisis mode all day, every day. We’re not built for that. We will break down.
Yes, life is difficult. We may need to work more hours than we wish, commute longer than is advisable, etc., but hopefully we can find ways to simplify our lives so that our schedules and expectations are more reasonable.

While some people may need a kick in the pants to work a little harder, there are lots of others who push themselves too much, who are frustrated that they only finish 5 things a day on their to do list of 20.

When I was a social worker I had a delightful supervisor named Reiko. We had a wonderful relationship. We talked about many things from our philosophies of life to the policies of social work to politics. Over time we developed a relationship of deep trust. She supervised a unit that consisted of eight social workers. Some worked harder than others. She had a way of getting the most out of each of us. She knew each of our strengths and weaknesses. There were a couple of coworkers that spent some each day socializing rather than working diligently. (Each of them had been with the department for several years. When push came to shove they always came through and got the job done.) I remember asking her if it bothered her that they wasted time. She responded, “If I get 6 quality hours out of each worker we’ll be all right. They’re good workers.”

Reiko was right. Let’s pace ourselves and we’ll be ok.

Speak up and Advocate for Yourself

Glenn Heap — Mon, 09 Nov 2020 05:57:24 +0000

When I was a senior in high school I had a really nice girlfriend. She was witty, fun and spontaneous. I enjoyed spending time with her. Her best friend at the time was somewhat of a flirt. On occasion the best friend would flirt with me right in front of my girlfriend. Sometimes I even flirted back. My girlfriend never said a word.
Years later, I had a girlfriend who reacted much differently to a similar situation. She told me she didn’t like it. She privately addressed the other person as well. I respected that. I thought I deserved to be called out.
It was good to see that the latter girlfriend thought she deserved to be treated better and I’m glad that she let me know her feelings. I respected that and I respected her.
I know that my behavior is up to me and I shouldn’t have to depend on others to call me on my inappropriate behavior but when they do, it leads me to respect them more. I don’t mind being held accountable to those closest to me.

I hope we’ll all speak up for ourselves.

I’m Not Here To Set Any Records

Glenn Heap — Mon, 09 Nov 2020 05:54:37 +0000

I decided to participate in my high school’s cross country team my senior year. I had wrestled the year before and was preparing to do my very best in wrestling my final year. I thought that running on the cross country team would help me get in shape. I joined the team at the beginning of the school year in September. There weren’t very many participants. We probably had 10 boys and six girls.
I knew that there were some good distance runners at our school that did not participate that year for reasons unknown to me. That left me as the fastest three miler on our team that season. We lost every dual meet and (most likely) finished last at every invitational. I would finish in the middle of the pack whether it was a dual meet or an invitational with several schools. Average was good enough to be the best at my school that year. (There was a race or two that year where a teammate or two finished before me.)
I enjoyed running after school. I loved the feeling of the sun on my shoulders and face as we would run in the late afternoon on fall days in Contra Costa County of the San Francisco Bay Area. I especially loved running through the hills. I also enjoyed the association with my teammates. As we would run, our hearts and minds opened and we would talk about the things that mattered most to us, including our futures.
I felt lots of endorphin release as we ran. Running seemed to encourage me to eat better. As we would run I would feel thirsty for water instead of sugary sodas. I would imagine myself eating apples, bananas and juicy oranges instead of Ding Dongs and Hostess Pies.
Gary Montante was the head coach. I believe he was in his 30’s then. He was in great shape. The Stanford graduate was my computer teacher. (Computers at that time were gigantic, as you can imagine.) Sometimes I stayed in his classroom at lunchtime to get extra help. I noticed that he would eat fresh fruit, nuts and other natural foods. No wonder he was in such good shape.
Another cool thing about him: if I needed help with a math problem, Mr Montante would pull up a chair directly in front of me and with his pencil would write the numbers so that they would be right side up for me, which meant, of course, that the numbers were upside down for him. I thought that was pretty cool.

One of my favorite runs was called Questionable Springs. After running five or six miles in the hills we’d arrive at a spring of water, but no one really know if it was safe to drink or not. We drank it anyway.
I loved the camaraderie as we would board the bus to head off to our meets and invitationals. Of course I wanted to run as fast as I could, but I mostly ran for the joy of it. I loved the feeling of expending all the energy I could. Sometimes after competing we would go and get some pizza together.

I didn’t like the other coach so much. (He shall remain nameless.)
Since I was the fastest runner on the team he thought he was going to give me some unsolicited counsel so that I could run faster. We had no relationship. He knew very little about me and had invested little in getting to know me. I didn’t think he particularly cared about me as an individual. I wasn’t interested in what he had to say either.
One day he was frustrated that the school’s fastest runner only finished in the middle of the pack. He began to pressure me in front of several teammates to improve my times. “I’m not here to set any records,” I replied.
I meant it. I was running to get in shape for the wrestling season but had fallen in love with running. I loved running with my friends, feeling healthier, and being tan. I certainly felt that I was running fast enough for me. I wasn’t there to please him.

Word got around amongst some of my friends how I had responded to the coach. There were times when I would be sitting in another class and would respond incorrectly to one of the teacher’s questions. “He’s not here to set any records you know,” my classmates would say with a wink.

I’ve taken that philosophy with me into middle age. I more focused on loving and learning than I am on trying to impress someone else. No, I’m still not here to set any records, but I am happy and living life my way.

My Dad and My Marathon

Glenn Heap — Mon, 09 Nov 2020 05:42:18 +0000

We were raised and I still practice the Mormon Faith . My parents taught us to keep the Sabbath Day holy. On Sundays, after three hours of church services, we would have a family dinner, and then would relax at home to get ready for the week. We didn’t participate in recreational, sports or entertainment activities. We avoided even the spending on money on the Sabbath. We didn’t want to cause others to work that day either. My father, in particular, was very strict about this.
When I was 19 years old I signed up to run a marathon in San Francisco on a Sunday. The course was all through Golden Gate Park.
I knew my dad wasn’t pleased when I left early from our suburban home in the East Bay to run that Sunday morning.
Much to my surprise, at about mile seven I saw a man in a suit and tie calling my name and cheering for me. He had left church to watch me run the marathon.
My father had administrative positions in our church and for him to leave them behind and to drive all the way into the city to cheer me on was a big sacrifice for him.
I’m so glad he went.