Short Cuts and Broken Barriers

We used to tease my mom for all of the kindly notes of instruction that she left for the rest of us.

‘don’t drink this water’ read the note taped to the bathroom mirror at our family’s getaway location.

‘window broken, do not open’.

‘please don’t flush feminine hygiene products. We’re on a septic system (smiley face)’.

‘Clean sheets for the double bed’.

Her notes were prolific and left no doubt about how we should use the space she shared with us.

When our family getaway was being dismantled, years after my mom passed away, we each collected and saved our favourite note of instruction. A remembrance of her effort to take care of us.

And while we might have teased her for providing us with more instruction than we could ever hope to need, I have come to appreciate that people need these basic instructions.

We need them far more than we realize.

On our family farm we have a potato warehouse turned rec/event room. Over the years we have hosted weddings, family reunions, community events, New Years celebrations, and family fun nights.

My family is accustomed to the sticky door latch that requires a quick pull timed precisely with a forceful tap on the handle. But first-time guests are unfamiliar with this quirk.

We know the procedure for keeping the composting outhouse in good order, but most of our guests have never used such a thing.

The ancient fridge won’t settle on a reasonable temperature, so anything that goes into it WILL freeze if left for too long.

There isn’t anything about this building that is ‘like other buildings’. It is unique.

And as a host, I strive to make people feel comfortable. And that’s when instructional notes become real handy. (Thanks mom!)

I know the sound of a first-timer jiggling frantically at the entrance, trying to get the latch to lift. And I know that it doesn’t feel good to be stuck outside, unable to open the door.

So of course we add an instructional note, ‘pull hard while pushing handle down (smiley face)’.

I don’t want anyone to arrive at the beverage station to find a mess of spoons, tea bags and used napkins. It creates uncertainty, and it’s not welcoming.

So I add a little notes ‘clean spoons’, ‘dirty spoons’, ‘compost’.

Nothing is left to chance. In my opinion people are most comfortable when they know what is expected of them. In a unique environment like ours, I want them to know how we use the space so that they can feel comfortable.

BUT, like anyone who has tried to affect human behaviour knows, just because an instructional note is present, does not mean that the note will be read, or understood, or honoured.

An outhouse with a composting toilet can be a surprisingly pleasant experience. A bride who had her wedding at our farm said that the outhouse was the best part of the experience!

Of course, outhouse expectations are pretty low, so it doesn’t take much to impress people. Electricity, running water and lack of foul smell is all it takes to wow our guests.

The step-by-step instructions are printed clearly inside the outhouse, on the toilet lid (which should be down when a person enters, if the previous user has followed the instructions) and on the lid to the shavings container.

But I can tell you that the steps are consistently overlooked. People just do not read the instructions, do not follow them, and don’t seem to notice.

A mug labelled ‘dirty spoons’ can easily sit empty, surrounded by a litter of spoons stained with coffee or tea.

But the most difficult challenge I have encountered, trying to affect human behaviour at our farm, is parking.

I don’t know why the outside world thinks that they should park on the grass… but we can 100% count on first-time guests making sure that at least two wheels are on the lawn, despite the huge expanse of gravel that we have for parking.

My guess is that they don’t want to be in the way, and they think that if they park at least half on the grass then our farm equipment will be able to get past them.

We have signs. We verbalize parking instructions. We have a printed map.

But people will be people, and in the world of driving, they will go where they think they should go. And that is usually NOT where we hoped they would go.

One of our first public events was a Blues concert.

We painted parking signs and arrows and we attempted to direct traffic away from our house by putting apple barrels on either side of the driveway with a rope hung between them. We attached flags to the rope to force vehicles to our designated parking lot. This way people would walk (safely) past our house and over to the concert and we wouldn’t end up with vehicles driving all over the grass.

We directed traffic and all went well. Until the show was over. Someone called a cab and I watched that van drive up our driveway and they didn’t even slow down to notice the barrels, the ropes or the signs.

That taxi van smoothly and effortlessly drove completely onto our lawn to bypass our apple barrel barrier. Like it didn't even exist.

Over the years I have learned a lot about what to expect from people. And I am no different from anyone else.

We don’t read the signs. We usually don’t even see them.

We misunderstand the simplest of instructions.

If there is a way around a barrier, we probably won’t even notice that it was present.

This is human nature.

And we should expect humans to be human.

I can’t always predict how people will react to our family farm environment. But I have enough experience to know that they will not do what we want them to do with out explicitly clear instructions.

And they will usually do it wrong before they will do it right.

If I want people to park in a particular place, I make sure that someone greets each vehicle and shows them exactly where to park. Every time.

If I want the dirty spoons in the dirty spoon mug, then I put a few in there to get started, and I keep the area clean so that no one sees a dirty spoon left on the table.

I’m a real fan of safety and efficiency. Our rules are never arbitrary (to us), they are about making sure that people have a nice time, that they stay safe and they don’t get themselves into an unfortunate situation.

And this is how we need to treat child sexual abuse prevention strategies.

If we want adults to keep kids safe, we have to show them how to do it.

Having a written sexual abuse prevention policy is as good as a note that says ‘clean spoons’ on a table cluttered with dirty spoons.

Someone needs to make sure that everyone sees the policy and someone needs to check in regularly to make sure that the policy is being adhered to.

One dirty spoon left on the table will cause other people to do the same.

One person who dismisses or ignores a policy will set a trend and cause other people to ignore the policy as well.

Wanting children to be safe is as good as a couple of apple barrels with a rope across the driveway.

If there is a way around the prevention policy, people will find it and will take it. Especially if it seems like a shortcut.

I don’t get frustrated or angry when our farm guests fail to follow our guidelines for use. I expect this from people. I modify my instructions and accept that if we want to create a barrier to block traffic, then there must be no way around it. It can’t be an illusion of a barrier. It must actually be capable of stopping a vehicle from passing.

When we put child sexual abuse prevention strategies in place in youth-serving organizations, there must be no way around it. It can’t be something we say, it must be real. It has to be something we do.

I once sat in a coach’s meeting for a local basketball association and heard the association director joke about bringing in police record checks. He laughed uncomfortably as he told his fellow coaches that he wasn’t worried about any of them… in fact, he told them that even though the Provincial Basketball Association requires him to see everyone’s police record check, he wasn’t going to enforce the rule.

Pretty soon, all the coaches were making jokes. They’ve known each other for years. No one was concerned. They all agreed that none of them were a risk to children. In other words, they agreed that children aren’t at risk.

And just like that, they had publicly declared themselves a safe place for perpetrators to gain access to children. No one would be suspecting anyone else in this basketball league. All adults would be presumed safe.

And that is how child sexual abuse is able to happen.

Sure, the provincial organization had a written policy. And they conveyed the policy to the regional leaders. But those regional leaders took a shortcut. They dropped their dirty spoon on the table and told everyone else that this is where dirty spoons go.

If we want children to be protected, we can not assume that organizations have good policies in place. We can not assume that they are implementing these policies.

We have to expect that people will behave like people. We have to expect that people need help, support and encouragement to follow safe practices. We must expect that people will be prone to short cuts and cutting corners, and we must set up our processes and procedures with these facts in mind.

On my family farm, I take responsibility for setting the tone and helping our guests treat the space the way we want it treated. That’s my job.

In our communities, we adults are all responsible for setting the tone that keeps kids safe from sexual abuse. It is our most important job.

We can ask about the policies that are in place. We can make an effort to follow the policies.

We can encourage other people to follow the policies. And if the policies are not adequate, or people are not following them, then we must intervene.

Kids need adults like us to create safe environments that are free from the risk of sexual abuse.

If you need support to implement or improve sexual abuse prevention practices in your community, please reach out and connect with Priority Kids. Children need adults like you to help set the tone.

Schedule a Meet and Greet to find out how Priority Kids can help you to keep children safe in your organization