The Three Christs of Ypsilanti (27 page)

In the course of gathering the material for the float, Leon uses the telephone. He speaks into it with some wonderment, and says afterwards that it was the first time in five years he had talked on a telephone.

June 13. Leon talks about his cosmic book, which is nearing completion; he says he needs one more blessing to finish it. Joseph says he doesn't think that people will believe in Leon's book. “People don't believe in unfacts.” Leon replies that Joseph's foster father is a barracuda, and Joseph in turn retorts: “Why pay to see a comedy when we have a comedy right here?”

June 16. I ask Joseph if Leon is ready for dismissal. He replies that Dung could get a job on the outside, that the last couple of weeks he's been much better than he was. “You gave him an occupation and that makes him feel better.”

It is clear that Leon and Joseph are getting along better now, even though they do not really want to work together on the Flora and Fauna Commission. And, with all his apprehensions about the success of the Flora and Fauna Commission and the float, Joseph is far more reality-oriented than he has ever been before.

Today he sends a letter to Dr. Yoder.

June 23. A letter arrives from Dr. Yoder, addressed to Clyde Benson, Joseph Cassel, and
Leon
Dung,[
2
] reminding them about the approaching carnival on June 27. Leon answers immediately, apologizing for not answering sooner, describing the various trees, flowers, and birds they have discovered in their explorations, and discussing his progress in taking cosmic pictures. He ends the letter by politely pointing out that the first two initials of his name are R. I.

June 26. Leon spends the whole day in the little sitting room, working on the wall mural. It is a highly detailed drawing of A building, with every brick in place, every window, every door drawn to scale.

June 27. Carnival Day. By the middle of the warm, sunny afternoon, hundreds of people—patients, doctors, nurses, aides, other hospital personnel, and visitors—have gathered on the main street that runs through the hospital grounds, to listen to the band and to watch the parade go by. Gaily costumed patients, men and women, push gaily decorated hospital beds on wheels down the street. The floats depict various themes, mostly simple ones inspired by popular television programs—
Have Gun, Will Travel; Wagon Train; I Love Lucy; Gillette Cavalcade of Sports
. In this last, two prize-fighters, dressed in shorts and wearing gloves, box with each other down the street, inside a ring moved slowly along by four patients, each of whom holds up a corner. These floats are the result of a lot of hard work by occupational therapists, aides, and nurses, who have prepared them with whatever help they could mobilize among the patients.

The last float in the parade is pushed by Leon and Joseph. It is
a box-like affair, simpler and less colorful than the others, covered all the way around with brown paper. From a distance it is impossible to see Leon's painstaking duplication of A building. But one can clearly discern the few leaves and branches which have been Scotch-taped onto it. The two members of the Flora and Fauna Commission smile as the crowd greets them with a round of applause.

Later in the day, Joseph and Leon prepare separate reports for Dr. Yoder.

Dr. Dung refused to sign saying that he will send his own note. Dung writes in his letter that I have fancy writing and that he doesn't believe in my writing. However, his writing is so cheap that one feels like not reading it. Why Dr. Dung or Dung writes to you about me in such a manner? I know, he's sick, there's no doubt about it!!

As one reads or peruses his letters or notes one perceives that he has no dexterity for writing. It is so badly written that one is tempted to let it go unread! … His letters are comical; one laughs at him, as one tries or
endeavours
to peruse his letters.

Comical is it not? Yes, very comical!! Only a buffoon like Dung would write the letters that he writes.

Glad I was of assistance to you, Dr. Yoder for the Flora and Fauna Commisson!

It is now necessary to pause in our narrative in order to consider the question we asked ourselves as Carnival Day drew to a close: had the Flora and Fauna Commission and all the events surrounding it brought the three men closer together, as we had hoped? Our answer has to be that it had not. Getting the men to work together required an enormous effort on our part. We might have persuaded ourselves that it had produced some therapeutic effects, but we feel in fact that it did not. The co-operation among the three men was imposed from without; it was more illusory than real and produced no fundamental or even external changes in their feelings, attitudes, or dealings with one another. It is tempting to say that this state of affairs stemmed from the irreconcilable nature of the conflicts inherent within this threesome. But we doubt it; in all probability the three Christs would have betrayed similar difficulties had they been placed on the Flora and Fauna Commission with other patients rather than with one another.

We did gain the impression, however, that the focus of the conflict centered in the character of Leon—the “leader” of this leaderless group. Leon's underlying needs and actions always seemed to be far more important in determining the character of the group than Clyde's or Joseph's, and he “controlled” the group by virtue of the fact that it was he who typically took the initiative in setting its tone and tempo. Clyde and, especially, Joseph merely responded to Leon's actions, thereby leading to further characteristic actions by Leon, and so on, in circular fashion.

Leon demonstrated a compulsive need to immerse himself in activity (not only on the Flora and Fauna Commission, but in his work in the laundry and vegetable rooms), but on his own terms, that is,
alone
. He apparently found the demands placed on him by group work extremely burdensome. He would go to great lengths to remain within the group for the sake of satisfying whatever flicker of need still remained within him for human companionship. But genuine co-operation seemed to be more than he either needed or was capable of giving.

Thus, Leon went along enthusiastically at first with Dr. Yoder's invitation to work on the Flora and Fauna Commission, but within three days we found him going to fantastic lengths to transform the three-man project into a strictly one-man operation. When, in the early part of July, we undertook to revive the Commission, we experienced the same results—initial enthusiasm and expressions of desire to co-operate, followed by the usual quarreling between Leon and Joseph, in which the co-operation bogged down. Further efforts on our part to give the project continued guidance were thus stifled to the point of extinction.

By the first of August it was apparent that we had learned all we were going to with this kind of experimental device. The Flora and Fauna Commission was dead as far as the three men were concerned—and the time had now come to explore another avenue, suggested by our theory for changing systems of belief and behavior.

[
1
]These letters were actually written by me, with Dr. Yoder's permission.

[
2
]This combination of Leon's real first name and his delusional last name was used in connection with a special confrontation procedure, directed specifically toward Leon, which we were undertaking at that time; he rejected the compromise name as firmly as he rejected his real full name.

T
HE DISSOLUTION
of the Flora and Fauna Commission marked the end of the first phase of our research. Before turning to the second phase, it is necessary to remind the reader that our interest in what happened from day to day to the three Christs of Ypsilanti stemmed, not from a specific theoretical concern with the nature of schizophrenia or paranoia as such, but from a more general concern with the nature of systems of belief and with the conditions under which such systems, especially closed systems, can be modified so that they are more open to the influence of experience, more in accord with social and physical reality, and more likely to reflect harmony between the inner needs of the self and the outer demands of society.

The first phase of the study dealt primarily with one proposal, one technique designed to introduce conflict within a system of beliefs: confront a person with others who claim the same identity as he, thus producing a dissonant relation between his primitive belief in his own identity and his primitive belief that there cannot be more than one person who holds a given identity. The major reactions observed thus far in each of the three delusional Christs (and these reactions will be discussed more fully in Chapter XIX) may reasonably be attributed to the conflict-producing dissonance brought about by the confrontations,
and the men's reactions to these confrontations represent their efforts to reduce this dissonance.

By the time the Flora and Fauna Commission ceased to function, it had become reasonably clear that the process of adaptation or reduction of dissonance was now more or less complete. The three Christs had adjusted to their new way of life; each in his own way had learned to cope with the others and with us. It was now over a year since they had been brought together. The novelty and shock of confrontation had worn off. Each one had formulated and stabilized a set of rationalized beliefs to account for the claims of the others, and these rationalizations were bolstered by a silent bargain and a standardized repertoire of rituals designed to avoid the tension-producing subject of identity. Moreover, Leon, the most articulate of the three, had—outwardly at least—renounced his Christ identity, thus ensuring a kind of peaceful coexistence which, though not ideal, was a vast improvement over the earlier warlike state.

In the second stage of the research, we set out to explore a second avenue, suggested by our theory of the nature of systems of belief. It will be recalled from Chapter I that all systems of belief are assumed to contain four kinds of beliefs, ranging from central to peripheral: primitive beliefs, specific beliefs about authority, peripheral beliefs, and inconsequential beliefs. Our concern now was with those beliefs which have to do with positive and negative authority—with what sociologists call reference persons and reference groups—beliefs as to whom the individual should look to
selectively
for information about what is and is not good, beautiful, and true. Such selective beliefs about authority play a significant role in the life of every normal person for at least two reasons: they determine the content and structure of all the beliefs we have called peripheral, and they serve as guides to action.

These beliefs about authority probably develop somewhat later in the child's life than do primitive beliefs. In the beginning, all his beliefs are primitive ones; he is not capable of understanding that some beliefs are not shared by everybody. The young child's mental
capacities and his experience are as yet too circumscribed for him to grasp the fact that he lives in a world in which there is controversy or even armed conflict over the questions of which authorities are positive and which negative, and which beliefs and ideologies associated with authority are the most valid. In the very beginning the infant looks to only one authority for information and nurture—his mother; somewhat later, his father. These parental referents are the only ones the young child has, and the concept that there are other positive reference persons is foreign to him, as is the concept of negative reference persons.

As the infant grows toward maturity, one of three things can happen to his primitive beliefs:

1. If they do not arise as subjects of controversy, many of them will continue to remain primitive throughout his life. As the child grows and broadens the range of his dealings with others outside the family, his authority base becomes gradually extended to include more and more people who can be counted on to know. Thus, should any doubt arise in his mind about any of his primitive beliefs—for example, whether today is Wednesday or Thursday—he can check it by asking virtually any stranger who happens along.