For years my wife contributed money to a nearby animal shelter. In the annual drawing, her name was chosen from those of other contributors, amounting to her first ever win in a contest like that. And the prize was immense: two nights for two people at the Plaza Hotel in New York City, two tickets to her choice of a Broadway play, and two dinners, with a bottle of champagne, on one of the ferries that goes around the island of Manhattan.
A home run! And she chose to take me as the other person, Thank God!
When we got to the Plaza, and while I was checking in and she was parking the car, I was fourth in line and had some time to observe. A well-dressed man swaggering in with an air of great importance bypassed the entire line, went to the front, and demanded to see the supervisor or manager. The hotel employee quickly summoned the manager, who arrived in seconds, and the very important man insisted on checking in right away. I could feel the resentment of the employee in spite of her tact, as she had to interrupt her work with other customers to submit to this man’s request.
This came during a time that I was teaching the DBT module on Interpersonal Skills in a group at the hospital, and I watched the scene through that lens. I could not dispute the fact that the highly important man was effective at achieving his primary objective, to get his room as fast as possible, even if he was personally offensive. I stood there and considered what kind of approach I would use to achieve an objective when I got to the front of the line. Guessing that guests of the Plaza coming from animal shelter raffles would not be among the higher priorities, I decided to ask for an elite, upscale room. I reviewed the “DEAR MAN” skills for achieving my objective, and in particular considered how I might reinforce her (the “R” in “DEAR MAN”).
I then said, “I am checking in for me and my wife. She won two nights at the Plaza when her name was picked out of a hat among those who had donated money to our animal shelter. She’s never won anything before, and we are so excited to get to come here. We have never stayed in a fancy place like this before. She’s off parking the car, looking for a reasonably priced parking lot.” (I admit that the latter statement was a manipulative lie; there is no such thing near the Plaza.) The woman listened intently. I continued. “So I want to ask you, though I realize it’s not very likely, if you can offer us one of the best rooms in the house, short of the penthouse. I know it’s probably impossible, even if you wanted to, so I am just asking if you can do whatever you can. Anything is fine.” She leaned toward me, lowered her voice, looked me in the eye, and spoke as if she were sharing a secret. She winked at me and said, “let’s get your wife a fabulous room!”
I thanked her rather calmly, hiding my excitement. The thrill of victory! We would get a fabulous room, and my “DEAR MAN” skills had paid off! They work! What a great teaching story this would be! And beyond that, a further incentive for applying DBT skills broadly to my life.
This blog will be dedicated to the notion that DBT as a treatment model, with its principles, strategies, and skills, can be “exported” from the clinical environment to the non-clinical world, to the “dead ends” within our daily lives. Having just published a professional book detailing how therapists can use DBT’s principles to help suffering patients get out of hell, here I bring the same tools to anyone who can use them. Admittedly, the example in this blog, based in the elite context of the Plaza, hardly speaks to the process of getting out of hell. But, frankly, I have found these principles and skills to help not only in getting out of hell, but also in improving daily life and even getting to the mountain top. Stay tuned for personal stories and examples from non-clinical domains such as education, sports, business, institutional settings, and family life.
Charlie
July 8, 2016