The fact that this head is a nurse has made our social worker the

confidant of many families to which another outsider would find but a

coolly polite welcome. The fact that she is a social worker makes her

interest in her cases widen to their families and remain after her

professional duties are no longer needed. Being the head of the house,

she can dictate as to the time of meals and the activities of the house

for the good of the infirmary patients, yet being the social worker, the

interest of the clubs and classes in the house are not needlessly

sacrificed to the whims of her patients. Her training as a nurse and her

experience has made her more executive than the ordinary young social

worker, but her authority as head of a house of so many interests and as

executive for so active and powerful an association, gives her prestige,

and with that prestige a power for self-development which utilizes the

best qualities she possesses. Moreover, in a country district such as

our valley, where sickness is the exception, a nurse who was confined to

her profession would have much idle time on her hands, and a social

worker who was solely a social worker might be discouraged as to the

slowness of the growth of her ideals in the minds of those about her.

For where people live twenty-five miles from the railroad, tomorrow is

always as good as today for beginning a new work. The women are, to say

the least, conservative, and the girls are shy about showing enthusiasm

for a new idea. The audiences for lectures arrive with sublime

dilatoriness, and the boys stay outside until they are quite sure that

what is going on inside is a roaring success.

Of course, the head of the house has a comprehending executive committee

behind her. Of course, too, each department of the Neighborhood House,

infirmary, summer school, exchange, clubs, etc., has its own committee

and chairman. Her responsibilities, also, are only those of a trusted

agent and all her reports are filed for the benefit of the Association,

so that while each department depends practically upon her, she in her

turn depends upon each committee and upon the executive committee and

above all upon the able president of that committee for her inspiration

and encouragement in carrying out her share of the usefulness of the

house. All these good things did not come the first night the house was

open. They are fruits of a happy growth. There have been many minor

difficulties and prejudices and some evils to overcome. The prejudices

died easiest, one of them, the fear that Neighborhood House provided for

needs that did not exist, went most quickly of all.

Last summer when an army officer from West Point lay convalescing in one

room, sharing his nurse with a little blind pauper baby, there was no

doubt as to the need of an infirmary for rich and poor. When the

exchange, which sold impartially the rag rug made by a guide's wife, the

oil painting of an artist, and the home-made candy of a school child,

and turned in $500 profits to its members, there was no doubt as to the

democratic practicability of the exchange. When the women came from the

Adirondack Club, and from the summer cottages to debate with the women

of the village on domestic science, there was no question as to the

success of the Woman's Club. And when the women of the church sewing

society came to count their gains from the country supper, and the

village Glee Club met to rehearse for its great concert, and the boys

invited the girls to their birthday suppers and the girls invited the

boys to their dancing classes, and the young married people of the

village invited last year's debutantes of far away cities to teach them

new figures and steps, and the clergymen who supplied the village church

and the lecturers sent by the government to answer the farmers'

questions about agriculture, all shared the hospitality of the house,

there remained no doubt in any one's mind as to its great usefulness to

the entire community.

As to whether it has made neighbors of us all in the spiritual sense--as

loving one another as we love ourselves--that has not become noticeable

to a degree which has affected the price of eggs! And yet I noticed with

a pleasant thrill at my heart last summer that when a woman, quite two

miles away from my cottage, came down from her porch with a loaf of

bread which she insisted upon my taking as a gift from her baking

because she knew the bakery was shut and that I was in a sudden stress,

she called me: "Neighbor!" "For goodness' sake!" said she. "Don't you

dare to pay me. You'd do the same for me, I just guess! Aren't we

neighbors?"

Yes, surely we are neighbors--we city folk and country folk! But it took

the Neighborhood House to teach us as a community the beginnings of the

art of neighborliness.

[Illustration: THE NEIGHBORHOOD HOUSE IN WINTER]

A NEW MINISTER TO MINDS DISEASED

MICHAEL M. DAVIS, Jr.

DIRECTOR BOSTON DISPENSARY

AND

MABEL R. WILSON

SOCIAL WORKER, MENTAL CLINIC, BOSTON DISPENSARY

Early last June Mrs. R., a rosy-cheeked, attractive Irish-American woman

of thirty years, came to the mental clinic of the Boston Dispensary in a

depressed and emotional condition. She was obsessed by the idea that

every one in the world had syphilis, and that she in particular was a

menace to her husband and their three young children. So firm was this

conviction that she had seriously contemplated suicide.

Four years previously Mrs. R. had shown distinct manifestations of

syphilis, and had received medical treatment. The infection the

physicians believed was accidental, and the husband and children had

proved, upon examination, to be free from any symptoms. For over a year

in Mrs. R.'s case Wassermann tests had indicated that the disease had

been cured; but the doctor's assurances were of no avail.

The blackness of this patient's depression had almost wrecked her home.

For months she had not prepared a single meal. The patience of her

relatives and friends and of the priest of her church--who considered

her what she looked, the picture of health--was entirely exhausted.

Ordinarily the income of the family was sufficient for self-support. Mr.

R., a bright, clean-looking young bar-tender, who was well thought of by

his employers, earned $18 a week. He had been making a desperate effort

to meet the extra expenses due to his wife's illness. The strain was

beginning to tell upon him, however, and the health of the children was

also falling below normal. The family lived in a five-room tenement in a

congested and undesirable neighborhood. Mrs. R. for this reason worried

constantly about the possible bad influences upon her two elder

children, who were just beginning to go to school.

Thus the mental clinic faced an acute situation. If it were not

effectively dealt with it would, at worst, terminate in suicide, and, at

best, in breaking up a promising family.

The facts just recited were, of course, not secured at the physician's

first interview with Mrs. R., but were in part gained by the social

worker in the clinic and at the home. It was apparent that the home

situation must be considered as well as the medical problem. There was

clearly a joint task for the social worker and the mental specialist.

Consultation led to the conclusion that the home arrangements would have

to be changed until Mrs. R. was able to undertake housekeeping again. A

long month of explanation and persuasion passed before the family,

friends, and priest were converted to a plan which involved the

temporary dissolution of the home. Consent was finally obtained, and the

children were placed by a children's agency. Probably most important of

all, the earnest co-operation of the patient herself was won. For four

months she reported at the clinic two or three times a week. After the

many interviews held with her by doctor and social worker, her

depression gradually cleared up, and she became ready to take up the

battle of life again.

As improvement grew more marked, the doctor advised that she should work

three hours each day outside her home. Three hours' work every day in a

good restaurant was secured. The benefit was so marked that after a

month the doctor suggested that the working time be doubled.

Mrs. R. now reports weekly to the clinic, but her depression has

disappeared. She is cheerful, interested in life, and is looking forward

to the re-establishment of her home this spring.

Recent conferences on mental hygiene have emphasized the fact that the

traditional conception of mental disease, raving insanity, is far behind

the times. We recognize today that there are in the community all

classes of mental disorders, from the maniac or imbecile to persons who

are "just a little queer," or who, like Mrs. R., have a definite and

curable obsession.

The time has also gone by when we associated the treatment of mental

disease with the straight-jacket. The hopelessly defective and insane

must indeed be segregated in institutions. But it is public economy to

diagnose and treat the great mass of incipient and curable cases of

mental disorder, since these, if uncared for, mean the wrecking of

lives, the breaking up of families, and material loss to the community.

The psychopathic clinic, or clinic for mental diseases, is an agency the

importance of which is now recognized by all who have given attention to

this field. Such clinics have usually been conducted in hospitals or

institutions which specialized in mental disorders. They have rarely

been managed as adjuncts of general hospitals or dispensaries. There is

a distinct place for them in this connection, however, for in this way

they catch patients who do not know that their troubles are really

symptoms of mental disease.

Mrs. R.'s case illustrates not only the service of such a mental clinic,

but also the two chief agents in achieving the service, the

physician--specialist in mental diseases--and his aide, the social

worker. Mrs. R.'s case belongs to one of three classes of mental disease

which such a clinic can benefit--the incipient type. The second class

comprises cases of mental defect which require diagnosis and

institutional care.

For example. Mrs. B., a middle-aged Irish woman, came to the clinic much

excited, fancying that people were locking her into her rooms. Among

other delusions she feared that she might injure her two children.

The doctor diagnosed her case as involutional insanity, and thought

that immediate arrangements were desirable for her entrance into an

insane hospital as a voluntary patient. Mrs. B. did not remember

her street number, and undoubtedly she would have been a "lost"

patient if the social worker had not taken her home. Arrangements

were made and carried out for a transfer to the insane hospital

that same afternoon, and a children's agency agreed to assume

supervision of the children during Mrs. B.'s absence. The help of a

friendly landlady was also enlisted.

Within three months Mrs. B. was discharged from the insane hospital

in excellent condition, with the understanding that she should

report regularly at the clinic. Her improvement continues. She is

at present earning good wages as a housekeeper and looks forward in

the future to a little store and the re-establishment of a home for

her children.

Another illustration of this type is Mr. D., a German forty-eight

years old, who has been in the United States twenty years.

* * * * *

Mr. D. became known at the dispensary through his wife, who had

been a patient. The man went on periodic "sprees" at this time,

apparently because his work as an order clerk had occasioned

considerable nervous strain. Temporary financial assistance and a

new job outside of Boston, seemed to put the man on his feet again;

and, with a happier home life, his wife's health improved.

In a short time, however, distinct symptoms of mental disorder

began to manifest themselves. Mr. D. talked much to himself, and

was haunted by doubt in everything that he did. If he put on his

hat he was forced to step in front of the mirror several times to

be sure that the hat was really on his head. After completing a

piece of work, he returned many times to make sure that it was

really done. Occasionally he remained at home in bed, because his

fellow workmen, noting his peculiar actions, had laughed at him.

Upon this basis a fear of meeting people grew up, and he shunned

every one. Once or twice he approached his wife threateningly. The

superintendent feared to keep him at the factory any longer, and

discharged him. After a careful medical examination, the prognosis

for the patient was not very favorable. A possible outcome was an

active and incurable form of insanity. It seemed necessary, in

order to have a reasonable hope of cure, that a radical change of

life be made.

Therefore, Mr. D. was induced to go as a volunteer patient to a

hospital for the insane. There he remained six months, during which

time, with the assistance of the Associated Charities, suitable

quarters and light work were found for his wife. Mr. D. was allowed

to visit her weekly, until she became ill with an attack of

Bright's disease, which, complicated by cardiac symptoms,

occasioned her death. This loss retarded Mr. D's. recovery; but, at

the end of six months the hospital considered him sufficiently

improved to be discharged to the dispensary for continued

observation.

At present, six months after his discharge, the situation is very

encouraging. Mr. D. is working most satisfactorily as a porter for

a large department store. He has secured an excellent room with

some old friends, has given up drinking, and, from his twelve

dollars a week, is paying back the advances made by the Associated

Charities. His "insanity of doubt" seems to have vanished, and his

outlook upon life is once more interested and hopeful.

Still another case is that of R., a boy of eleven years. He was born in

Russia, of Russian Jewish parentage and has been in the United States

six years:--

R.'s own story of his first visit to the mental clinic, was in a

manic condition and talked incoherently. A week before his

appearance at the dispensary the child had returned from school in

a much disturbed state. Since that day he had not been able to

sleep, and had manifested great nervous depression with

hallucinations and had attempted several times to jump from the

window.

R.'s own story to the physician was broken and confused. He talked

much of having been forced by his teacher to go down on his knees,

and insisted that his hair was on fire. He appeared a sensitive and

intelligent child.

Investigation revealed no history of mental disease throughout the

families of both father and mother. A home visit by the social

worker showed that the family of seven lived in a four room

tenement in a congested and noisy Jewish section. The father was a

tailor with an irregular income.

The boy was immediately sent to the psychopathic ward of the Boston

State Hospital, where the diagnosis of acute insanity was confirmed

and a week later R. was committed to the Danvers State Hospital. A

co-operative connection was established between the social worker

and the hospital physicians at Danvers who were in charge of the

case. After he had sufficiently recovered, the plan was made that

R. was to be placed in the country under the supervision of one of

the children's societies for a period of at least six months. Dr.

Mitchell, superintendent of the Danvers State Hospital, wrote in

approval of this arrangement.

The plan was carried out with most successful results. At the end

of six months he was released from the parole of Danvers State

Hospital and returned to his home to report once a month to the

mental clinic at the dispensary.

The social work in this case was not confined entirely to

arrangements for the boy, but extended to the preparation of the

family for his return, which involved moving to a less congested

neighborhood in a Jewish section of a Boston suburb. It was also

necessary to arrange for his attendance in an open air class, win

his teacher's interest and co-operation, and educate the father to

a realization of the need of discipline, the value of regular hours

for eating and sleeping, the desirability that the boy should sleep

alone, and the danger of exciting recreations.

R. has now been at his own home for twelve months. A recent entry

on the medical record states: "Patient in excellent physical and

mental condition."

The third class includes patients who have been discharged from insane

hospitals as cured, or as so much improved that they should be able to

maintain themselves and take part in family life again.

This work of after-care is extremely important. Many cases of mental

disease can be safely discharged from an insane hospital if there is

assurance that they will be properly followed up in their homes. Such

supervision requires the joint efforts of the physician and the social

worker.

Miss C., for instance, a woman of thirty-three years, was sent to the

clinic for after-care, by arrangement with the superintendent of the

insane hospital to which she had twice been sent for maniac-depressive

insanity. Her mother had also been a patient for years in the same

hospital. During the first weeks of her treatment at the clinic, she was

still nervous, complained of gnawing sensations in the back of her head,

and dreaded to ride in the street cars. When sitting, she constantly

pulled and twitched different parts of her clothing, beat upon the floor

with one foot, and kept one hand on her head, using the other one alone.

She lived with a married sister who was in comfortable circumstances,

and worked for her brother in an unprofitable little plumber's shop,

which he apparently kept mainly to afford employment for Miss C. and a

younger brother.

With this history it was plain that careful oversight and regular

clinical visits were necessary to prevent future attacks. Advice and

encouragement were given with the object of stimulating Miss C.'s normal

interests and of persuading her to return to wholesome companionship.

During the summer of 1912 it was decided to remove Miss C. entirely from

home associations, and a desirable position as housekeeper was secured

in the country. There she gained in weight and spirits, and acquired

valuable experience. She still comes regularly to the clinic, and the

medical and social prognosis seems favorable.

The value of organized social service in connection with the clinic for

mental diseases has been strikingly shown since its recent establishment

at the Boston Dispensary. In the department for mental diseases in this

institution, which is a large and long-established dispensary taking all

classes of diseases, a trained social worker was set at work in January,

1912. At the expiration of a year an efficiency test was made, comparing

the clinic during 1911, when the medical staff had no social worker to

assist them, with 1912, when she was at their service. The following

table summarizes this test:

Increase

1911 1912 Per Cent

New Patients 125 213 70

Old Patients no record 100 --

Visits by New Patients 388 909 134

Visits by All Patients 516 1568 203

Cured or Substantially

Improved 19% 22% 16

Cases Pending at End of

Year[8] 2% 22% 1000

Transferred to Other

Agencies 16% 49% 206

Patients Lost 27% 5.6% 90[9]

Relative Efficiency 43% 94% 118

[8] The increase of "cases pending" is due to the organized medical and

social follow-up work, whereby the patients are held at the clinic until

the physician feels that they may safely be discharged. Without this

service the cases do not "pend" because they are lost.

[9] Decrease.

The gist of these statistics is that, with the aid of a trained social

worker, it is possible to treat certain forms of mental disease

effectively in an out-patient clinic. The physician becomes able to keep

a grip upon all patients that he wants to hold. There is practically a

closed circle, and the results of treatment bear favorable comparison

with private work. It is not too much to say that such a clinic,

provided with a staff of interested mental specialists and with trained

social workers, can perform an important function in treating mental

disease and preventing its spread in the community.[10]

[10] The preventive work of the clinic takes place in two ways: first, by

diagnosing cases of mental defect that ought to have institutional care,

and in securing this care for them by placing them or inducing their

families to consent to place them in the proper Institution; second, by

the education of patients and their families in habits of life and

principles of mental hygiene which establish a home environment

favorable to the preservation of mental health.

The social worker at the Boston Dispensary works actually in the clinic.

Here she meets each new patient and takes a careful social history,

usually before the patient sees the physician. Often she is present when

the doctor interviews the patient, and always, after this interview, the

physician consults with the social worker. Then a plan of treatment is

made which includes the social as well as the medical factors of the

case. In a certain proportion of cases, home visits are not necessary.

The efforts of the social worker in the clinic itself are sufficient to

secure adequate treatment. Thus there appears a very important

classification of the kinds of social work required:

1. Patients presenting acute family problems of poverty, ignorance,

or undesirable home conditions and associations. These patients

require home visits and intensive social work. In the mental clinic

of the dispensary they constituted 48 per cent of the 141 patients.

2. Patients requiring a home visit simply for the purpose of

insuring the patient's return to the clinic--that is, cases in

which there were no complex home problems but in which it was

necessary to go to the home once in order to persuade the patient

to come back for treatment. This class at the Dispensary

constituted 20 per cent.

3. Patients to whom it was possible to give effective treatment by

clinical interviews only, without home visits. This class

constituted 32 per cent.

Inasmuch as the cost of the service per patient (estimating the time

taken by the social worker) is enormously greater in class one than it

is in class three, it is highly important to make this classification,

and to keep a close watch upon the proportion of the different types, so

that the cost of the work as a whole, with reference to its efficiency,

can be accurately estimated.

An efficiency study from this standpoint during 1912 leads to the

conclusion that the average cost per patient (the complete treatment of

a case) in class three is sixty cents; in class two, a dollar; in class

one, four dollars. The medical service is given gratuitously by the

physician. More extended studies in this and in other mental clinics

should be made in order to work out the cost figures more accurately.

There can be no doubt, however, that even if the cost of medical service

were added, it is cheaper to treat mental diseases in the early stages,

when patients can retain their places in the community, wholly or partly

self-supporting, than to let the disease reach a point where permanent

damage is done, and the insane hospital is the only resource.

That out-patient clinics should fill an important place in the new

nation-wide campaign for mental hygiene, there can be no doubt in the

mind of any one who has given attention to the matter. That organized

social service is not only a desirable accompaniment of such clinics,

but an essential condition of their efficiency, is a demonstrable and

measurable fact.

CIVIL WAR IN THE WEST VIRGINIA COAL MINES

HAROLD E. WEST

[_The Survey has not had staff or means to send a special representative

to the West Virginia coal fields to make an intensive investigation of

the conditions in the strike area. That is the sort of social

interpretation we shall hope to perform with the growth of the slender

resources of the Survey Associates. We have done the next best

thing--viz., turned to the most promising newspaper source._

_It has been current gossip among journalists that the press of West

Virginia could not be relied upon to tell the truth about the situation

in the Kanawha Valley. Of the metropolitan newspapers which up to March

had had staff representatives in the field, the accounts of the

Baltimore Sun stood out. They did not mince matters in telling of the

brutal murder by the strikers of the mine guard Stringer; nor did they

hedge in publishing what was done by the Cabin Creek and Paint Creek

Colliery Companies. Mr. West was the representative the Sun had sent

into the field, and from him The Survey requested an article, only

stipulating that it be fair to both sides and tell not only the events

of the strike but the conditions back of them._

The Survey, Volume 30, Number 1, April 5, 1913 · 第 6 / 9 段