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Narrative Story Term Paper

Psychology Narrative It is the intention of this paper to explore the methods utilized which resulted in the transformation of not only the behavior of a teenage boy but also in the transformation of his very life. Many methods have been utilized in attempting to modify behavioral-patterns in problem children and teens.

This paper will look at the changes in a young man whose name is Reuben, the elements that contributed to those changes and the viewpoint of Reuben as he tells us the story of his new outlook and life view.

This is a story told by Ruben about his life. It is a candid look at the manifestations of anger, frustration, rebellion against authority, and it is a story that gives voice to the possibilities of transformation or change within an individual. Further Ruben will reveals the conditions, or change of conditions in the environment that is conducive to the culmination or the birth of the thought that change is possible.

Ruben will further reveal the very elemental yet obtuse thoughts that may take root in the mind of a young individual in modern society and all that is entailed within that society. Finally, Ruben will reveal the "self-perception" shift that he experienced and what critical element in the immediate environment broke through to his response and activated achievement within his life. Now Ruben will tell you in his own words what brought about an essential shift in his mental and emotional process that at the same time changed the course of life for Ruben by untold measures in avoidance of what might have been a terrible prospect for the future.

According to Ruben:

I am labeled these days as a "transfer opportunity student." To tell you the truth "I can't remember when I wasn't angry. It could have been the first time I realized I was the only child around without a dad, at least on the weekend, and my mother is another story altogether, which I intend to speak of today. I grew up in an upper poverty-clad area where hardly anyone worked but only scraped by. But Mom, was a worker, and at one time I thought she loved work way more than she loved me.

I was angry towards mom, my dad, ["who" and "where" ever he was] and I just knew that my life would not ever amount to anything worthwhile because I had identified myself as one that was not "worthy enough." Further this outlook held that no one was due what is defined as "respect." This concept was not in my reasoning at that time.

Those are big words, and I can tell you those one experienced as personal validation are awesome word, once learned, hold greater meaning. There is enslavement that we can either by consent or through negative labeling of self-worth. This thought that came as theory was proven elemental in my life system outlook for success.

I was bad before I came to school here and I am ashamed of many things that I did before my new life here in this town. However, it was my decision, that if by telling the good, bad and ugly about myself and my life that someone else might be helped to avoid that same mistake then I would be a winner... I might better the life of another individual by sharing lessons of triumph through revealing previous failure that I would win for admitting weakness and further point another down the path that leads to true life system success.

There was no success in drugs, playing hooky, lying and all kinds of rebellious drama, whose part I played. My definition of success has changed greatly since the realization of a few very basic things. Before coming to this school the word respect was not something I understood. I had not perceived of the self-identity concept of thinking. I was once big reaction, with no authority over self or destiny, virtual weakness of random reactions to stimuli in environment.

Instead of attending school I would hang out with my girlfriend and we would get into whatever household medicinal remedies, preferably those that were prescription of opiate or mood enhancement effect. Whenever we could find it we smoked a lot of weed because we liked getting high, in fact getting high was the entire point of our day. Then things progressed to other drugs, we were sniffing cocaine on a regular basis and on the weekend we would take the drug ecstasy and to the techno-raves and dance all night.

My brother was the good kid. Great grades, great job, quarterback with competition...

Victor was the one that Mom counted on. Yes, Victor was the good and the reliable son. However, I was a "problem child" characterized by "angry and violent displays of emotion" or "lack of self -control" in reality.
My grades were erratic covering each applicable grading letter of the alphabet. My perception was a world of my existence being based in reactionary terms only and to no acquired effect in the "real-time/life mode." Boy, was I wrong.

When I arrived my first morning at this school, a lot of people already knew my name, especially the teachers and their genuine interest in me as an individual was obvious and also foreign in light of my experiences in my old school. I truly believe that the turning point for me was the realization on the way home from school that first day that this town and school, that my life would now be what I made it to be and nothing more or less than exactly that.

The list that the school had on me, that is the office "rap" sheet on my behavior was written in fiery red violations filling more than just a page. Listed were the following on my discipline record:

Profanity [toward even the teachers and school staff and employees]

Defiance toward staff and administrators

Uniform violation [more than 3 of 5 days in a week: 12 weeks]

Fighting at school [physical fights/inciting school uproars]

Tardiness [on a perpetual basis]

Dodging class attendance [more than 3 days in six-week unit] every unit in last year and 1/2.

The final straw on the proverbial camel's back was the day I mooned the teacher and was expelled from school, permanently expelled I will add. Mom was furious and embarrassed and my brother didn't utter one word to me for nearly three months after the "mooning" event. Again, it is clear to see that I had not grasped the concept of self or mutual respect.

My best friend called it "copping out" the day he incited me to anger, and incidentally, the first day of our friendship a couple of years ago. I have learned many labels that can be accurately applied to the life system experience method. So if there is a "copping out" (i.e., to cop-out!) method" officially then it would be defined as the following:

Making excuses.

Invalid "reasons" given for an action or thought

Doesn't have a clue, pretending

Actor: wearer of mask, player of drama

Don't laugh, these are serious thoughts that if not grasped will float past unacknowledged. The first day of school here I formed in my mind a "game-plan." It was a plan for changing everything from the inside out. I understood suddenly and felt it of immediate urgency to rethink my thinking or risk ruining my life due to my "bad" and "unacceptable" behavior.

In other words, I would be my worst of many enemies in if not careful of my actions in relation to my "game-plan."

I am sure that everyone has heard of my reputation to fight by now. Although earlier in my time at his school surely you knew, but yet no one approached me to challenge me and the self-environmental lesson was that of basis in non-challenging society of freewill identification in terms of self. The psychiatrist had lot of words to describe me.

The terms which were applied to my profile were those such the following:

Bad kid.

Bad seed

Never do well

Lazy, stupid, ignorant

And so the list goes in making attempt to define who I am, to have me assist in that definition and to live my life out not caring, uneducated and ineffective in school. The other kids, their moms were always home and even though they were as poor as we were, at least they had a dad that would come in from work. At least they had a mom to come home to that would fix them supper and help them with their homework but I never had that.

A started getting in trouble a lot a couple of years ago. I didn't mean to, well not really but deep inside I was angry and I just wanted Mom to notice me, I mean just notice I was alive. I had fantasies that I would do something horrible and my Dad would hear about it and come and find us and be a Dad and whip me like the other boys Dads did when they were bad and maybe even ground me to stay home doing chores all weekend.

But…

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