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The claps are meant to provide participants with a special show of appreciation from their peers, says Dianne Owens, of Curtis and Associates Inc. "Adults rarely get applause for the positive things they do," Owens explains. "It's a fun way to energize people and reward them for taking risks."
Michelle, a bright-eyed 24-year-old with long orange nails, tells the class she wants to work as a probation officer or in computers. "But I'm not really sure what kind of job I want," she adds.
"You already have a job!" Moore says emphatically, to Michelle and her classmates. "You just got to get out there and find it! Repeat after me: We will get a job!"
"We will get a job."
Moore modifies the mantra. "We already got a job!"
"We already got a job!" the class shouts energetically. Moore begins a thump-thump-clap rhythm on one of the tables, and the class joins in, singing "Weee will, wee will, Get-a-Job. Get-a-Job!"
After lunch, the class watches a video titled Are You Better Off Working? The host is none other than Dean Curtis himself, who bears an uncanny resemblance to the ever-earnest Ned Flanders, neighbor to Homer, Marge, and the kids on The Simpsons. "When we're more productive, we're able to control our lives, and our self-esteem increases," says the workfare guru, a former communications professor. "And now you have six reasons to take that positive next step."
A fundamental principle of the Curtis system is the notion that taking positive steps requires the use of positive language. So each woman picks a positive nickname. Valerie chooses "Valuable," Lupe is "Lucky," Naomi decides on "Nice."
"This will help you remember each other's names in a conscious, positive way," the instructor explains.
Moore later conducts practice interviews with the women. The interviews are videotaped and then replayed for the class. Shari bursts into nonsensical giggling during her interview and wins a prize -- a plastic lotion bottle -- for being the funniest faux job applicant.
"I know these seem like silly little cute things," Moore says. "What you get the opportunity to do here is simple little things. Just be yourself and have fun -- and don't worry about what's out there."
Day 2: Shields and Balloons
This morning, Briana Moore's class is drawing pictures -- pictures of shields, to be exact. Each shield is to be divided into compartments, each representing family, hobbies, previous jobs, and three accomplishments from past jobs, respectively. Five "positive words" -- part of last night's homework -- will occupy another compartment.
"Make them colorful representations of who you are," Moore instructs, passing a basket of markers around the room. At the end of 45 minutes, Moore's charges take turns explaining their heraldic artwork at the front of the room.
The shields are meant to remind the women of their positive qualities, which will, in theory, help when they begin interviewing for jobs. Drawing the pictures is designed to help commit the positive attributes to memory.
"I am responsible, helpful, nice, and very dedicated," says "Jumping" Jacqueline, a petite woman with an abundance of black hair and silver rings on her fingers. "This is me working at 850 Bryant in the coffee shop."
"I like to go to parks when the weather is good and sit in the sun and watch the babes," she cackles, pointing to the shield.
Moore asks the class for other words Jacqueline can use to describe herself to an employer. "Ambitious" someone says. "Patient." "Dynamic." Several sets of eyes glance at signs on the wall, which supply other uplifting adjectives.
"Determined."
"Self Controlled."
Jacqueline must now "take ownership of the words" by using the phrase "I am" or "I have" along with them. So, on the teacher's cue, Jacqueline says, "I am determined. I am self-controlled."
"You want to learn these words and use them," Moore explains.
Positive phrases -- known as "green flag statements" -- like these are strongly encouraged at the Express Center. Words like "can't" or "quit" are verboten. They are, according to the Curtis system, "red flag statements." Students are given both red and green flags, which they are urged to wave at the appropriate junctures.
By early afternoon, the back wall is covered with shield drawings. Moore is pleased. "So it is your responsibility to sell yourself to your employer," she says. "You have to walk in with grace and power and confidence."
She instructs the class to hold hands and form a circle in the center of the room. Under no circumstances can they let go of one another's hands. Moore pulls a pink party balloon from a garbage bag and tosses it into the air.
"OK, you can't let this touch the ground," she says, as the balloon descends. The women giggle, flailing arms and legs in a vain attempt to intercept the orb before it touches the carpet.
She tosses another dozen balloons in the air: "These are all challenges. This is relationship problems. This is your sick children. This is somebody got shot in your neighborhood. This is your PG&E ...." Predictably, the balloons ultimately light on the floor.
"That was hard, tiresome work, right? It takes a lot to do that, but it was easier if you had more than one person helping you, right?" coaxes Moore. "While you're working, there will be a lot of things you will have to juggle. You already do that in your everyday life. When you're working, you're going to have to do more."
