Humor in Counseling: The Light, the Bright, and the Serious

Speeches...

Samuel T. Gladding

Keynote Speech, Southern Association for Counselor Education and Supervision

Louisville, Kentucky, October 25, 1997

When I was stationed at Fort Lee, Virginia, as a part of my Army officer training for the Quartermaster Corps, I used to occasionally put on my tennis togs and go play tennis while many of my friends would play golf. Because most of my friends were duffers, I often went to the courts by myself. My hope was to get involved in a pick-up game, and I'm pleased to say that frequently happened. However, sometimes were better than others.

One of my more frustrating times came on a windy afternoon in April. I was playing next to another young lieutenant who was quite sincere but who was not very skilled. She kept hitting her tennis balls over to my court and, of course, kept running over to get them. I would like to report that she finally quit or that she improved but neither occurred. I can report that she was polite and I tried to be well mannered in return. However, I finally gave up my game that afternoon when I realized how futile it was to keep playing under such circumstances.

Well as fate would have it, a couple of weeks after the incident I just described, I was at a party at the Officers’ Club where who should show up but this same young lieutenant. Seeing me she waved and came over to where my friends and I were standing. Since she didn’t have a tennis ball or a tennis racket in her hands, I thought I had nothing to dodge, pick up, or be afraid of.
"I’m really glad to see you," she said. "You left so abruptly the other day. We didn’t even have a chance to talk."

"Anyway,” she continued, “I just wanted to tell you that I don’t think I have ever been as erotic next to anyone in my life as I was with you recently on the tennis court. You were great to keep your sense of humor when I kept messing up. I promise, next time I’ll be better. I’m practicing."

"Excuse me," I said.

"Oh, I'm the one who messed up alright," she stated. "I was just too anxious that day. You were good to keep your sense of humor through it all. If I hadn't been so erotic and broken your concentration who knows what might have happened."

Well, her sentences kept rolling on like this and she kept saying erotic for erratic until I was blushing pretty badly and my friends were thinking that a love set was more than I had described to them. Finally, I regained my composure and thanked her for her apology. Then, I quickly exited her presence once more. However, since that experience I have realized the power of words anew and how different, in most cases some words are from others, such as erotic from erratic. I have also been more cognizant that counseling, like life, has its humorous as well as serious moments. So today, I would like to talk to you about counseling and humor --- the light, the bright, and the serious.

The Light

The light parts of humor in counseling are exactly that. They are the times when we banter about the nature of counseling, the characteristics of clients, the fallabilities of ourselves as counselors, and what the helping process is. Professionals and clients who take themselves too seriously cannot smile, let alone make jokes. Processes of helping completely devoid of humor are usually sterile. Thus, there is a need for lightness in counseling. Such playfulness can come naturally and spontaneously, if we let it. Light humor in counseling is usually in the form of particular incidents but some of it is institutionalized in the form of jokes. For example:

What did the math book say to the counseling book? "I’ve got lots of problems."

What did the counseling book say back to the math book?: "I’m solution-focused."

One of my lightest moments in counseling came about the time Debbie Boone was singing "You light up my life." (A song LeeAnn Rimes has recently remade). Some of you will remember that song, some of you are even now trying to forget it. But at the time of the song’s initial popularity, I was a counselor in a large county mental health center. Sometimes like Charles Kuralt, I was on the road visiting some of my clients and trying to provide mental health services. At other times I was in the two story pre-Civil War house that served as the center.

One day at the Center a rather large mountain of a man, named Tex, came in for his first appointment. What made him a bit unusual was the fact that he had a gun in a hostler strapped to his side. I was upstairs in my office but my faithful secretary, Sa-rah (she actually pronounced her name Sa-rah, not Sarah) quickly let me know that Tex and his six shooter had arrived. She was disturbed and I must admit I had concern too.

Nevertheless, I came downstairs to find Tex in the waiting room. I introduced myself, shook his hand, and then said to him as he stood up:

"You know, Tex, we don’t allow firearms in our counseling sessions. They have a way of frightening the counselors. However, we have arrangements for taking care of your gun while you and I talk. Come with me."

I then took him over to Sa-rah’s desk, gave her one of those knowing winks that means "play along with me here," and said to Tex.

"Sa-rah, our receptionist used to be a cowgirl. She’s from the west you know. Why Sa-rah, tell Tex where you are from."

Without blinking an eye or seeming to understand anything that was going on, Sa-rah said in a rather monotone voice: "Mayodan, North Carolina."

Trying to put a good spin on her answer, I replied: "Yes, Mayodan, North Carolina, where the Mayo and Dan rivers converge, where the deer and the porcupine play, where seldom is heard a discouraging word or much more than wild animal noise. You know, Tex, some people say that Mayodan is where the west really begins. There are no buffalo there but they do have an Ostrich farm. Tex, have you ever tangled with an Ostrich?"

Unimpressed, Tex, just grunted. "There’s no rapport being built here I thought" but I continued the conversation, giving Sa-rah a double wink (like help me out a little here will you, Sa-rah). Then I told Tex that Sa-rah would give him a receipt for his gun.

"She does it for other people who have pets and other possessions we think would be better left out of sessions, " I said.

Well, as Tex reached for his gun, Sa-rah just stared into space as I gave her hand motions to start writing something. Finally, she reached for a pink telephone message pad and as Tex laid down his gun, Sa-rah handed him a pink slip of paper with these words on it: "While you are away, this is where your gun will stay."

Tex seemed okay with the paper and as luck with have it, we actually had a good session and he never showed up with his firearm again.

From my experience with Sa-rah and Tex that day, I learned that sometimes if you keep the conversation light until it needs to be heavy, you can set up the right conditions in counseling so that your encounters can be productive. Being light in the midst of potential danger or difficulty does not mean "shooting from the hip." Rather, it involves timing. flexibility, and a sensitivity to know that most solutions in life come from interactions you would probably never predict.

The Bright

That leads to the bright part of humor in counseling. Every now and then, humor informs us in a way that illuminates our lives, that is, brightens them. Sometimes we are aware of when this illumination is happening, at other times we do not have a clue and only see with insight after our laughter or lightness has died. Let me give you a few examples of both kinds of brightness and humor.

An incident where humor informed me in a delayed way came one time when I was applying for a position in a counselor education program at a rather prestigious school. I was pleased to have made the interview stage and was well prepared to answer most questions that came my way. As the day went on, I felt more and more confident. However, then came an interview with the dean of the school in which counseling was housed. It was not an ideal match. I felt like I had gone from being openly accepted to being critically inspected. The sudden change in climate made me wary. It was confusing. However, I kept looking for a way to further my cause and make an impression that would be beneficial.

Finally, the dean directed the conversation to academic credentials, a safe ground for me if there ever was one, I thought. Looking at my resume, the dean said:

"It looks like you like to write a lot."

"Yes," I replied, thinking I would seize the initiative. “I find writing very therapeutic.

To which the dean sighed and said: "You must be very sick"
I probably was quite sick at the time or at least obsessed with writing but I couldn’t see my predicament until the dean made his rather flippant remark. I went home from my interview both humbled and informed. After the interview I swore not to be as obsessed with publishing (although I am sure there are some of you who may find that hard to believe).

Another time when unintended humor brightened my life was in the early 1970s. I was lost vocationally. Because of family influences, the only vocation I had seriously considered was being a minister. However, it was not a good fit and I realized half way into divinity school that no matter how hard I tried, I just was not going to be a divine. Thus, on a trip through North Carolina I stopped by to see Dr. Tom Elmore, who was then making a transition himself from being one of the deans of Wake Forest to being the founder of the counselor education program there. He had been friendly with me when I had been an undergraduate, so I felt I could discuss my vocational problem with him freely.

As we talked, he did all the right things that made me realize he was listening. Then he said: "Why don’t you try counseling?"

"Well, that’s a great idea" I thought. So I started making applications to a variety of counseling programs. It was not until after I received my masters degree in counseling about two years later that I realized Tom was talking about the fact that he thought I should try personal and vocational counseling, not enroll in a counseling program. I’m just glad his response to me was not something like "Try acupuncture," "Go fly a kite," or "Take a hike." If it had been there is no telling where I’d be now. As it was, I feel I got the last laugh in the misunderstanding because counseling has been a career in which I have felt right at home.

Another time humor enlightened and brightened my life in a more immediate way came a few years ago when I was given some new assignments as on the Wake Forest campus. The additional tasks meant that I went from having a full plate to one that was overflowing. I was a bit stressed because at the same time, I had three young children who were into everything and quite demanding. One day the kids came up with the novel idea of wrapping their coins so they could exchange them for dollars. My wife, Claire, picked up some wrappers and after I went home, our entire family wrapped pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters, like Vanilla Ice raps out tunes.

At the end of the ordeal, it was decided that I would take the rolls of coins to the bank on the Wake Forest campus to make the exchange. The next morning I started putting the coins into my coat and pants pockets until there was no room left and I was carrying $36 of silver and copper. It was heavy but I thought I would be able to park close to the bank and make my exchange quickly and unobtrusively. Well, unfortunately what I thought and what occurred were not the same. As fate would have it, my parking spot for the day was completely across campus from the bank.

Still, I was determined. I got out of my car and started walking. The further I walked the harder it got. The coins were heavy and I began to droop and even breathe heavy from the weight of my load. The task was more than I had envisioned. Nevertheless, I continued until I could see the bank before me.

Unfortunately, I could see a high ranking official of the university outside of the bank and since I was not moving fast, he spotted me. Still I kept going. When I reached him, right before I entered the door to make my exchange, I could see a worried look on his face.

"Sam," he said, "what’s wrong?"

Well not wanting him to think I was being frivolous in regard to my duties for the University and yet not wanting to be less than truthful about the coins I was carrying, I answered: "I think I’ve just become overwhelmed with change."

To which he replied: "Take today off. We’ll talk about your new responsibilities tomorrow."

I did as instructed, and got some rest and relief. It was funny in the best sort of way. I laughed all the way back from the bank and still smile when I think of the incident. "Hi ho, Silver away" now means more to me than anything associated with the Lone Ranger ever could. You could say the trip to the bank brightened and enriched me in regard to humor and its impact on change in human life.

The Serious

That leads to the serious aspect of humor in counseling. While many of us in counselor education and supervision discuss serious matters, we seldom do so from a humorous perspective. In fact, in some way it seems absurd to use serious and humor in the same sentence. We have a hard time doing it.

In such cases, we are like the Plymouth car customer of the 1970s when Plymouth made a sporty Mustang-like automobile called the Baracuda. It was not much of a car but the story is told of a man who wanted one but could not pronounce its name. He kept saying Bacaruda and Barmadu. In response to the plight a salesperson trying to be genuinely helpful and teach him the name said: "Repeat after me.

"Ba" and the man said "Ba,"

"Ra" and the man said "Ra"

"Cu" and the man said "Cu"

"Da" and the man said "Da."

Now the salesperson said: “Put it all together,” to which the customer responded:

"Baba--rara--cucu--dada."

However, the two seemingly unmixable concepts humor and seriousness occur in therapeutic as well as absurd ways. I found this out with my 10-year old son, Ben, a few weeks ago at a football game. Those of you who may not be aware, Wake Forest University has the distinction of having lost more football games than any other major college team in the country. Yet, as intermitent reinforcement dictates many of us who are fans of the school regularly show up at games because on occasions, we win and are reinforced for our devotion. However, the usual scenario is to show up and suffer. If the team scores, it is a moral victory. Well, on this particular Saturday night when the Deacons were playing the "fuzzy bees" of Georgia Tech, all, as usual, was not going well. Our line kept crumbling, the quarterback kept fumbling, and we kept losing yardage.

Now Ben who is a real sports fan at age 10 began to get upset and despite fatherly advice such as “It’s just a game,” nothing seemed to console him. Seeing my plight, a kind and older woman in the seats in front of us, tried to engage Ben in conversation. She talked to him about 5th grade stuff and about his interest in writing and reading. Finally, she brought the conversation back to the present and said to him:
"What do you think is wrong with our team tonight?"

Thinking for only an instant, he quickly replied: "We’ve going in the wrong direction."

He was right, of course, but his response that was said in all seriousness not only brought a smile to the older woman’s face but a smile to his as well. He became less upset and when we did not win the game, he remarked: "Well, at least we were good sports."

While humor doesn’t always make things less serious for clients or even alter final outcomes, it can be therapeutic for clients. They can see through the pain that they have made some progress, or they can accept the inevitable with a grace that gives them dignity, or they can continue to advocate and work for change with a new found energy that invigorates instead of drains. The point is that life is serious and our clients come to us with distress and unrest that is real. However, when outside circumstances cannot be immediately taken care of, humor can help as a tool in assisting our clients as they gain a new perspective on life or make necessary changes in life.

Conclusion

I began this speech talking about the misuse of words and the fact that words are important in counseling and in life. The fact that the young lieutenant I talked about used the word "erotic" instead of "erratic" illustrated this point in a somewhat humorous way. Whether we are aware of it or not, there is humor in life and there is humor in counseling and even in supervision. Many times the way we find that our lives and the lives of our clients are changing is through the use of humor.

I often tell my students that during my active years as a full time counselor, I never laughed as much or felt as much pain and sorrow. The point is, to use a lyric by Judy Collins, we need to “look at both sides now” in our practice and teaching of counseling. One of Donna Henderson’s intern students, Kimberly Mills, reminded me of this anew the other day. She had introduced herself at her school as a counselor to an elementary school class. She had talked about what counselors can do in both a serious and light way. When the class was over, she said one little boy came up to her and rubbing his hands together said: "I need some of that."

In closing I would say that we, and the society we serve, need some of what counseling can give on the preventative as well as the treatment side. Thus, we as counselor educators and supervisors need to be at our best when we are counseling, educating, and supervising. We need to accept our own as well as others follies and to appreciate the lighter, brighter, and serious sides to humor and counseling when they are intermixed. To affirm the best in counseling means to use our clinical skills and that includes humor at times.

By using humor we can help our clients see that their situations are at times hopeless but not serious or serious but not hopeless. Humor gives a perspective to life that allows for change if not dismissed or discounted. In such a process, we, and our clients become freer to be spontaneous, creative, and more effective.

Humor used in the right way edifies and frees. It also builds relationships as I found out in my own family last summer. After joking around with my 6-year-old, Timothy, I told him it was time to go to bed. He was not outwardly resistant but insisted that I kneel before him before he put his head on his pillow. My initial thought was he was trying to push the boundaries of bedtime. My second thought was that he was going to enact a scene from the Joseph stories in the Bible where Joseph in a dream sees his brothers bowing down to him like wheat. My third thought was "Oh, why not humor him a little. It can’t hurt."
So, I knelt and he immediately ran to his lego box where he hastily assembled a device that looked somewhat like a sword. Then standing in front of me he tapped me on the head and both shoulders as and said: " I dub thee ‘Sir Laughs-A-Lot’"

As I leave you, I would say that such a knighting is the highest honor any of us can receive. Humor has a place in counseling, in education, and in supervision. It is not a tool that we should use without forethought and care. Yet, it is not something we should neglect either for in the words of the singer, Jimmy Buffet, in his song "Changes in Attitudes, Changes in Latitudes":
"If we didn’t laugh we would all go insane."

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