I do not pretend to have any quick or easy solutions. The only thing I really know is that when we come face to face with suffering we have an obligation to stop if even for a few moments. We have to exit our offices, cubicles, and nurses stations, put away the text books and the psychiatric books, and simply enter into situations shrouded in suffering —the man crying, the women biting or cutting her arms, the child running around non-stop, the man beating his face to a pulp, the woman obsessed with perfection, the man or woman whose minds have been invaded wrapped by horrible, nightmarish voices, or the adolescent running away to the city to sell his/her body and enter into a contorted and despairing life.

My first job taught me a life-lesson at the very start. I wrote the note above, was very proud of it, and made a copy for all the caregivers for whom I had responsibility. I thought that it was as clear as a bell and extremely insightful. But, this was not the case. A young caregiver walked up to me with my note in her hand. I assumed that she was going to thank me for such a fine note. Such was not the case. She said, “What the heck is this?” I answered, “It is a pretty good note, Isn’t it?” Her face did not look content. So, I asked her, “What’s wrong with it?” She said, “You told us what not to do, but you didn’t mention what we should do.” I recall vividly thinking that I did not have the slightest idea of what to do. I then asked, “What do you think I should do?” Her answer was, “Get out here and work with us.” I thought what a good idea. So, I left my office and have and spent many years doing just that and trying to figure out how we might support marginalized individuals.