Not a Bird: Finding Our Way with Acceptance

September 19, 2020

“...2020....If you didn’t know beforehand how you cope with circumstances beyond your control, well, you’ve probably got a pretty good idea by now. ”

I have a little unlined journal I wrote in when I was 8 years old. Amidst pages of unicorn drawings and stutter-start stories, is a page with three simple lines on it:

It is what you are given

and what you must accept.

It is not a bird.

And there it is. The answer to everything. I have chuckled over those lines, scratching my head about what on earth could have prompted my second-grade brain to pen them. It’s going fine until the last line. Life – it is what you are given, and what you must accept. Sounds deep! Also - not a bird. Mmm...undeniable. I have to say, this odd little snippet of wisdom from my younger self has become a bit of a mantra for me, the sober realization of the first two lines comically balanced by the seeming randomness of the last. I didn’t ask for a bird. You get what you get. And, as we say to our kids, you don’t get upset. You accept it.

I still remember the aha-moment I felt as a graduate student training in a hospital setting when my supervisor finally explained to me why he always noted if a patient showed use of acceptance to cope. I was working with patients who had life-changing injuries and illnesses, people who had lost their independence, often unexpectedly and suddenly, and were living through a time in their lives when it was unclear if they would ever recover their previous level of functioning. I could hardly imagine living through a similar experience. Why did my supervisor document a patient’s use of acceptance? In his words, “because it’s the best thing anybody can do in a situation like this.” It is the gold standard of coping when circumstances are beyond one’s control. And it’s not the end of the story. Acceptance is the start. You can’t get very far in your new reality if you can’t accept that it’s the one you’re living in.

Which brings me to 2020 – our new reality, unfolding relentlessly in a series of seemingly endless crises, injustices, tragedies and disasters ranging from the hilariously small-scale (think toilet paper) to the entire future of life on our planet. If you didn’t know beforehand how you cope with circumstances beyond your control, well, you’ve probably got a pretty good idea by now. Reminds me of my favorite mental health meme that went around Facebook: “What doesn’t kill you gives you a lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms and a dark sense of humor.”

We are living through collective traumas on a massive scale. How will we get through and be resilient on the other side? Like the patients I worked with in the hospital, we are wondering if our lives will ever get back to normal. Perhaps we have to start by accepting that the world as we know it is changing, and life will not be the same. That we will not be the same. That acceptance is itself a powerful pathway to change. As Carl Rogers famously put it: “The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I change.” What if we take 2020 on its terms, even as we all desperately want change on many levels? What if we offer ourselves this kind of radical acceptance? Maybe it’s the best thing anyone can do in a situation like this.

“It [acceptance] is the gold standard of coping when circumstances are beyond one’s control. And it’s not the end of the story. Acceptance is the start. You can’t get very far in your new reality if you can’t accept that it’s the one you’re living in.”

Monica Green, Ph.D., is a licensed clinical psychologist, PSY27391, specializing in depression, anxiety, trauma, relationship issues and psychological aspects of chronic health conditions.

Radical Humility

August 15, 2020

“Humility can play a role both in intimate alliances as well as serving as fortitude for those who participate in activism more publicly.”

As the call for racial justice takes hold of our nation, I feel the gravity of what is needed of me and I’m noticing that I continuously need to ground myself in a stance of humility to stay engaged in meaningful ways. I think humility can be a valuable friend to white people and others who are trying to ‘do the work’ right now. Humility when taking risks to call someone into a deeper understanding and commitment, humility with oneself when feeling inadequate or insufficient, and humility when entering unfamiliar spaces and conversations with those who live and breathe the unrelenting work of racial justice. Humility can play a role both in intimate alliances as well as serving as fortitude for those who participate in activism more publicly. A stance of humility helps to maintain curiosity and radical non-defensiveness such that we can listen deeply to what is needed with enough left in the tank to move to action as well.

This is a stance familiar to many therapists, though challenging indeed. As much as therapy offers ways of understanding self and other, it can just as easily harm the other without the active examination of implicit biases and racist indoctrinations on the part of the therapist. Conversations about race can evoke anxiety to the point where people can easily become defensive, shutdown, or avoid the topic all together. I have heard some therapists rather cheekily suggest a slight dissociation can be useful when in an anxiety provoking conversation to make space for justifiable anger, rage, sadness, or other feelings that may be unbearable or unimaginable. I might also suggest that leaning heavily into humility and letting go of the need to be knowledgeable, good, helpful, seen as expert or right can also be a protective factor against the internal emotional blows, often known as guilt and shame, that can ultimately be roadblocks to listening deeply.

Recently, I participated in a listening exercise related to hearing some of the demands of the Black Lives Matter movement and I was struck by just how much my ability to listen can get clouded by my own self-judgement and anxiety about my capacity. Sometimes it is helpful to be aware of one’s own internal dialogue and feelings, and then sharing them can strengthen relationships depending on the level of intimacy already established. However, when attempting to be an effective steward of anti-racist activism, I find that being able to shelve those inner thoughts for examination later is key for listening more actively in the moment. This means humbly letting go of the importance of one’s own perspective and potential embarrassment at times to ask questions and understand what is being asked of you.

“The mental health field also has a long way to go toward detangling its roots in white supremacy and making the structural changes needed such that cultural competency truly percolates to the standard of care...”

There is so much to learn about where we have been as a country, as a people, and I know that given how deep the history is, it will take sustainable and enduring approaches to create real change over time. We may be humbled by our limitations, but we must be careful not to let humility be a resting place for passivity, rather a place to recharge and know that we can survive our own inadequacy, and keep moving into the discomfort and tragedy of the work that needs to be done.

I know that I have a long way to go in terms of reckoning with my own privilege and with the white supremacist systems that I benefit from and operate within. This will be a lifetime of dismantling and fighting, and I hope to maintain humility along the way. If you are also on this journey and wanting to know more about organizations who are leading the way in inclusive and socially just psychotherapy, please consult the list of resource links below. The mental health field also has a long way to go toward detangling its roots in white supremacy and making the structural changes needed such that cultural competency truly percolates to the standard of care, and I hope that our field can embrace a stance of humility necessary to advance further.

Therapy & Mental Health Organizations:

The Loveland Foundation: https://thelovelandfoundation.org/
Therapy for Black Girls: https://therapyforblackgirls.com/
Inclusive Therapists: https://www.inclusivetherapists.com/
BEAM (Black Emotional and Mental Health Community): https://www.beam.community/

Social Justice Organizations:

Advancement Project: https://www.advancementprojectca.org/
Embrace LA: https://www.embracela.org/

Erika Mitchell, MA, is a Registered Associate Marriage and Family Therapist #109385, working under the professional supervision of Michelle Harwell, PsyD, LMFT 50732. Erika specializes in helping her clients bring mindful, attuned awareness to their sensations and emotions.

The Resilience of a Long-Distance Runner: An Interview with Nadia Ruiz, Educator and Coach

July 12, 2020

Eryn Lewis: Hello! Good to see you.

Nadia Ruiz: You too!

Eryn: Thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me. We’re just gonna jump right in..and again, I so appreciate you talking with me. For back story here, my colleague Tracy and I are curating a newsletter around the theme of resilience. As I was considering the people in life who really mirror the true definition of resilience, you came to mind. So, I’d love to hear what comes to mind for you to be thought of as so closely connected to what I consider resilient. And also could you describe a little about what you do and about who you are?

Nadia: Yeah, so my name is Nadia Ruiz. I’m an endurance coach and also a biology educator. My background is in education, endurance sports, and also in [sports] competition. I’ve been teaching for 10 years - biology. And I’ve been a competitive athlete for 22 years and have been coaching for 15 years. So, all of them have meshed together and created who I am over time. In regard to resilience or resiliency, when I saw that word, I definitely remembered that moment when we were at the retreat - that self-development retreat where you had to choose one word that you feel best represents yourself. And it was really interesting how we were kinda close together and we were both like “Resiliency, yes!” We personally know our journeys but sometimes others may not know about our struggles. And coming out of those struggles is really important. The word resilience definitely has a significant meaning for me.

Eryn: A little background for those you don’t know…I know Nadia because she was my coach for my first LA marathon…or first marathon. So, in that time when were training, we were able to go to different retreats with our team of 10, and we were able to do a lot of mindfulness exercises practices. That’s what Nadia is talking about…a time when we were able to go to Joshua Tree as a team, and we found that word that felt so fitting to describe our running experience. So..what inspired you to become a runner? Can you tell us a bit about that?

Nadia: It was by accident. It was in middle school; around that age. I did not come from sports. I didn’t do team sports. I had two left foot. Really any team sports was kinda difficult for you. So, I was doing my homework one night and I saw the Ironman World Championship on TV. And I was like “What is this!?” People are basically racing all day from sunrise to sunset. I just didn’t really understand…wow, what is this?!? It’s a 2.4 mile swim, a 112-mile bicycle ride and a 26.2-mile run. And when I actually thought about it, I was like, “Wow, the human body can actually do that! That’s amazing.” Professional athletes have always inspired me. They are amazing people. But what really touched my soul was the real stories of the real people who had full-time [non-athletic] careers, who were parents, who were overcoming a divorce, who were overcoming such struggle in their life, and they gave themselves this goal to complete an Ironman. I felt really inspired and thought I think I could do that. If these real people who are struggling with something in their lives can make this goal for themselves without having any particular ‘talent’ or career as a professional athlete, then why can’t I? Why can’t I try at least? So, I started doing the research. I found that it was an expensive sport. I had to be 18 years old to compete. I thought, let me start with one of the three sports that might be the easiest to get into so that I could go ahead and start. So, I started with running. And I thought, okay, marathon, let me sign up! I did my first marathon when I was 14 years old. I had just started cross-country [running] in high school. I hadn’t run anything more than 5 miles. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was just signing up [for the marathon] completely blindfolded. I told my parents about a week before the race - the LA Marathon in 1999 - that I signed up for it. I said, “Someone else on the cross-country team is running it with me, and I think I can do it.” My dad was 40 years old at the time, and he was like “How? And why is my daughter doing this? I’m not gonna let her do it by yourself?”

Eryn: How old were you again?

Nadia: 14! And my dad was 40. We did our first marathon together, and we had not run more than 5 miles ever. And it was only two days before the marathon that we had our longest training run. These are all the wrong things to do when you train for a marathon! (laughs) That first marathon was the absolute biggest enlightening experience of self-discovery, of my mind, of my mental strength, of the physical pain that I can endure as a 14-year old. The more you’re unprepared for something, the more it becomes painful to go through. Sharing with my dad was even more special. It was at mile 12 that I finally just sat down at the curb, and felt like I was defeated…completely emotionally defeated; physically defeated, everything, and I said “I’m not going to reach my goal.” I was so used to be an over-achiever and for me to feel defeated and e to hug my legs and start crying of pain….My dad just kneeled next to me and he said: “Mija, we’re in this together. I’m here with you. We’re gonna finish. If you put you’re mind to it, you can do anything. You can do anything.” I had no excuse. If my dad, someone who loves me, is counting on me, then that really counts.

Image source: https://nadiatherunner.blogspot.com/

Eryn: He really believed in you!

Nadia: Yeah, I stood up and we finished that race together, hand in hand, crying. And that’s when I fell in love with running. I fell in love with running.

Eryn: That was your first race?

Nadia: That was my first marathon.

Eryn: Okay, wow, what an experience — and one to run with your father! It sounds like it’s such a beautiful perspective — that running is a mind, body, and emotional experience. And you as a 14-year old were able to say, “Oh my goodness, these IronMan athletes are able do this even considering all that is happening in their lives.” You were consciously considering that. And you saw that it wasn’t a barrier for them and how there’s a true resilience in that. And we will get into that later about how obstacles have influenced your running career and life. Yeah, I love that perspective. We’re gonna shift gears a little bit. This now a career for you. You’re training people now…and you’ve been doing this for years now. You started running as an athlete at 14. How long has this been a career for you?

Nadia: Coaching? For 15 years.

Eryn: Oh, that’s right.

Nadia: I was able to pick up coaching while I was teaching. So, I first started coaching cross-county and track and then I started coaching for LAUSD and for Students Run LA. And then I started coaching for companies; brands, and it kinda evolved from there.

Eryn: Has your gender or racial identity impacted your experience in the running world?

Nadia: Yes. In very unique way. I was trying to think about this concept in light of what’s going on today. Over time, maybe the more competitive I got, I think I was made more aware of my gender. It was hard to be a competitive female. Because sometimes females don’t want to be as competitive or they feel challenged in a way and want a safe space. And they don’t feel like high competition for females can be a safe space. But it’s mining the right way to communicate about it; finding the right way to connect people in order for it not to be an issue and be something that helps uplifts you. Same thing with racial identity. Even when I was competitive in the Boston Marathon.. Typically, for most races it’s mostly 60% female and 40% . But for Boston, it’s actually reversed. So, it’s a race where you have to qualify so anywhere between 60-65% are male and then the rest is female. I even reached out to the BAA [Boston Athletic Association] to ask why is this so. And they said, “Well, we’re trying…we’ve had to change the qualification times to encourage women to qualify more; to be part of the field. And we want more women representation. So, the standards are a little more relaxed for females.” So, that’s great and that does encourage women…But whenever I run the Boston Marathon, I do notice the racial [makeup] is different, minorities aren’t really represented as much. There’s a lot of factors to that, it’s not only just race, it’s also socioeconomic. It’s also the cost of the race, the cost to travel. Going to Boston and New York are probably one of the most expensive race weekends, because everything usually is hiked up for the city. Again, there’s a lot of factors that play into it. I do feel, just having a science background, even when I used to be in my lecture halls, there was an under-representation of minorities. And it wasn’t just Latina, it wasn’t just one particular race. It was minorities that were underrepresented. And I’ve had to battle with that my whole life, whether it’s in running, whether it’s in academia, or whether it’s in my work. But I don’t allow that to be a factor that holds me down. Instead, it motivates me. It motivates me to keep working hard. Even if I have to work harder, that’s ok. I can’t let myself down. I can’t let my family down. I come from an immigrant family, where my parents have left everything. They left everything in their country and came with nothing and they built something. And they made that sacrifice for their children. So for me, if my parents can do that, then I can overcome this obstacle. I can find a way, even if it is hard. Even if I sometimes feel like I am struggling. So, resiliency does come into play there, too.

Eryn: You said “battling through it” or “pushing through it,” was there anything that helped you in moving through that? Whether you used your voice to advocate for yourself and your racial identity? Or have you felt like you could have a voice behind the struggles that you’ve experienced?

Nadia: I do know that the more a person struggles, the more important it is to find a support group and find someone that can help you get out of it, because there were times that I felt “I’m just going to tuck my head in, and try to grind through it by myself” - but it’s not a safe way. It could work sometimes, but most of the time, if you’re really struggling, it’s important to connect with people who might understand your story, who have already overcome that same obstacle and can guide you and help you. I’ve realized every time that I feel like I’ve hit a real low in my life, or a real big challenge or struggle, maybe I’ll try to overcome it alone, but it’s not easy. The moment that people reach out to me, or I find that support group to help, it’s a lot more heartwarming and I’m able to overcome it.

Eryn: It’s a good reminder that we can’t do this life alone, especially with these significant obstacles, and that it’s really important to connect with the people who are struggling with a similar thing. I’d say that ties in really well with what’s going on in our communities today. Not only if you’re not experiencing it, being from a learner perspective, but people who have experienced it firsthand, it’s really important that they have a community of people who have experienced it. A shared experience can really be healing. So, thank you for sharing that.

Have you faced setbacks or obstacles in your running, life, or career? What has that looked like? And how have you gotten past that and pushed through those obstacles?

Nadia: Definitely yes, obstacles have happened throughout my life. Whether it be through the smaller ones in high school, the more challenging ones in college, grad school, developing your life, teaching – I think the most vivid obstacles this year have been a big challenge. I feel like I’m getting every obstacle thrown at me over the last year. It’s a learning period, it’s a period of taking it one day at a time and understanding what’s happening. But I’m still remaining to the core of trying to be positive, proactive, and trying to see the end of each obstacle and try to tackle them and not put them all on one plate and not think that I can do it alone. So the obstacles have definitely been there, and a whole lot recently, as many of us are challenged with what’s happening in the world.

Eryn: You’ve been doing this for 15 years, and all of the sudden in this past year, things have shifted dramatically for you in your career. I’m curious how those 15 years have set you up to be able to survive and live through this pandemic. Do you feel set up to bear all the obstacles of COVID-19 and everything that has come your way? Has that been a good foundation for you?

Nadia: Definitely, yes. One reason is my dad has always said “Make sure you plan for a rainy day.” Make sure you plan for when there’s a storm coming, not just for a day, or a week, or maybe months – there’s going to be lows for a period of your life. And I thought previously that there were lows and challenges that I’ve had to overcome, but nothing like what I’ve had to overcome this past year, and especially in the last 6 months. This 6 months have been a very trying period. Everything I’ve learned, everything I’ve built, everything I’ve saved, everything I’ve gone through in the 35 years of my life has allowed me to take on the tsunami of obstacles I’ve had this past 6 months. It’s all in the mindset, it’s all in skills, it’s all in saving. Then another key aspect is creativity and being creative and positive. So many coaches and people in the creative field and independent contractors have been challenged at this time. We’ve lost everything. Either our entire business or a significant portion of our business. We’re trying to find a pivot. How can we evolve with what’s happening? How can we still remain positive with what’s happening? How can we continuously be informed of what’s happening, but also plan not only for 3 months ahead, 6 months ahead, but for the coming years, and as things keep changing every day and every week, it’s just staying in that creative and positive mindset and trying to flourish.

Eryn: It’s such a crucial time to make sure your mind stays healthy. Especially with all these obstacles and a lot of unknowns that are happening. The mindset and keeping your mind sharp and creative sounds like it’s pulling you out of the muck as you continue to experience and bear these obstacles that are coming, whether you know its coming or not, you keep your mind sharp, and you can finish this long, long race that we just don’t know when it’s going to end and what it’s going to look like.

Nadia Ruiz, Educator and Coach — Image source: https://nadiatherunner.blogspot.com/

So, thank you! Thank you so much for your vulnerability and your honesty and taking this time. I know that it’s hard to find time, especially through this new normal, and trying to find a routine and trying to find opportunities to still tell your story, because I know that that’s been something that these last 15 years has truly been about – being that inspiration and that coach and being in big communities and sharing your voice. I know that you’ve impacted a lot of people. So I appreciate you carving out this time in your crazy schedule now. I want to give you an opportunity to share one last message of encouragement with our community. I’m curious what that would be considering what we’re all going through, what you’re going through, what’s one message that could collectively support our community in this time that you would want to leave to end our conversation.

Nadia: I think the one thing I can definitely resonate with right now is – it’s ok to feel what you feel. Emotions are real. If you’re feeling weak, if you’re feeling sad, whatever it is that you’re feeling, it’s ok to feel it. Know you’re not alone. Know that you can get through this, but you have to reach out to that support circle in your life of people that love you. Because there are people in your life that love you, that want to see you achieve and succeed and overcome the obstacles you’re overcoming. Recognize those feelings and embrace yourself. I know sometimes it’s very, very hard, and you’re in a low moment, but embrace those emotions and reach out.

Eryn: I love that. Thank you so much! I wish I could give you a hug. I’ll air hug you from here!

Nadia: Well, we’ve shared so many memories together and it’s been such a pleasure. Even just to hear your voice, it’s just a reminder of the joys that we’ve shared together. It’s just always been a pleasure.

Eryn: Same. You’re an inspiration to me, so I really, really appreciate you. I could hear your story multiple times and hear something different and hear something inspiring and motivating. SO I’m encouraged and I hope others are as well!

Nadia: Thank you!

Nadia Ruiz, MA, is an educator, endurance athlete, and coach. By the age of 28, Nadia earned the title as “The Youngest Latina to Run 100 Marathons in the World.” She can be found on Instagram here: @irongirlnadia.

Eryn Lewis, MA, is a Registered Associate Marriage and Family Therapist, IMF #186959, working under the professional supervision of Gabrielle Taylor, PhD, Psy #22054. Eryn works with individuals, couples and families on a broad range of issues including anxiety, depression, parent-child challenges, trauma, sexual abuse, and marital issues.

Care and Courage in Crisis: An Interview with Christine Chester, Medical Social Worker

May 22, 2020

Sarah Butcher: Tell us about your job title, and what your job entailed before the quarantine / pandemic?

Christine Chester: I have been a Medical Social Worker since 2013. I have worked in various units, NICU, L+D, Ortho, ICU, Med-Surg, Oncology, Trauma, Peds, Psych Evaluations, and the list goes on, always in acute care settings. At this time, I am the Medical Social Worker in an Emergency Department. As usual, the first and most valuable intervention is a thorough biopsychosocial-spiritual assessment. Once that is complete, I move on to facilitate my portion of the care plan as directed by the physician. Generally patient needs that are referred to me are centered around homelessness, abuse, poverty and lack of resources and safety concerns.

Sarah: How has the environment at work changed since the pandemic?

Christine: It’s very different. Simple things take much longer because of new processes. Wearing an N95 can make it more difficult to communicate, even over the phone. Even a simple mask can cause some skin breakdown or burdensome tension headache. It’s mentally taxing to consider a pathogen throughout the day, sanitizing and sequencing movement just to get a drink of water or use the bathroom.

We don’t have the typical mix of patient needs that we used to see--instead we are seeing many more critically ill patients. It’s truly unprecedented. I’m located in the nurses’ station. I try to prioritize patients who have a poor prognosis, and I complete those assessments first. As usual, I am inquiring about legal decision making, but often I’m having more expanded conversations about a POLST or an Advance Directive. I’m also trying to be sensitive to the needs of patients who are unstable. If a patient may not survive and they are transported to ICU, I try to communicate with the medical team about how and when to facilitate a video call. My goal is for loved ones to have as much connection as possible with their loved one. Sadly, that can mean facilitating a goodbye call, or comforting a visitor who is permitted to come to the bedside of a deceased or dying loved one.

“Sarah: What is the best part of your job? What is the worst part?

Christine: The best part is being able to ease suffering. The worst part is when I can’t.”

In early March I could see a tidal wave coming--we were starting to understand just what had happened in northern Italy and watching our PPE supply eviscerate and wide swaths of staff taken off work due to sickness and possible exposures--it was scary. I really geared myself up as a support for loved ones and staff. Patients suffering from COVID were often too sick to meaningfully participate in an assessment, and we were trying to limit transmission by limiting contact with non-clinical staff. I was seeing signs of acute traumatic stress within myself and my colleagues. There was very little chatting between staff that are usually jovial and warm. Their phones buzzing as family members panicked, asking them not to come to work, and some staff began making plans to move out of their own homes. Back then, visitors were permitted, but limited, and the department was eerily quiet. When loved ones would cry at the bedside, the sound would echo, and with it traveled fear and trauma. Many staff had sore and torn skin from PPE and make-shift PPE. The group dynamics, along with some physical markings, contributed to a mentality and culture shift from healthcare to conflict zone.

My role as a mental health provider began to absorb some of the responsibilities of a Chaplain. Patients and families expressed tremendous spiritual distress and would frequently request prayer at the bedside and over the phone during a clinical assessment.

Sarah: What have been some of your most important tasks/interventions during the pandemic?

Christine: I continue to feel that my most important intervention is a thorough initial assessment. The critical components of that assessment are vital during a pandemic, a part of that assessment is establishing a surrogate decision maker or receiving a copy of an Advance Directive or POLST. Sadly, the COVID deaths I have seen in the ER have been a rapid decline, so establishing this information is definitely a time-sensitive priority.

During an assessment, I’m basically formulating a genogram in my mind, trying to get a sense of care available to the patient. For patients who have COVID, the news of that positive test presents an immediate crisis--families wonder if they can safely reside together and what arrangements to make. I try to walk them through next steps and what to expect over the next few weeks, and direct them to COVID information and resources for testing etc.

I am encountering significant mental suffering, emotional anguish and considerable spiritual distress among patients and their loved ones. The trauma of losing a loved one to COVID is cruel and the ripple effects are vast. For example, I had a patient who tested positive for COVID. She was tearful and terrified, reporting to me her pastor had just died of COVID. This care setting offers spiritual care for any patient by phone or in person. I like to utilize the FICA assessment developed by Dr. Christina Puchalski at George Washington University. I often uncover important goals of care during the FICA discussion.

Sarah: How has wearing a mask all day changed your interaction with patients?

Christine: Clinical practice is so very different when I am wearing an N95 all day--every patient is in a mask. My voice is muffled, so I am very deliberate with my intonation and have developed a much more sing-song inflection since they cannot see me smile. I have started to wear different eye makeup since my eyes are my only visible way to emote. My impression is that patients are reassured seeing clinical staff who appear well groomed under all their PPE--it seems just a little more normal. Like being on a plane during turbulence, but the flight attendants are calm and put together.

Sarah: What is the policy at your hospital on visitors? How has it affected patients and staff?

Christine: At this time, the hospital allows no visitors at all. Patients and loved ones suffer greatly. The staff are spending huge emotional energy to be present at the bedside in more meaningful ways. I’m trying to be more vigilant of comfort items and call lights to diminish medical trauma. Today I stood at the bedside holding the hand of an elderly woman during her bedside procedure. I let her grip my right hand and with my left hand I stroked her hair and spoke softly to her. This is what we do now. It is clinically necessary to care for her not just as a patient but as though she is my own mother since her bedside is empty. This human contact appears to greatly diminish her fear and help manage her pain.

I’m also notified by clinical staff when they encounter family who are inconsolable over the phone and have concerns the loved one lacks adequate emotional care. The dynamic among staff in my department appears to be incredibly positive. The shared disposition is becoming lighter since those early days. Easier laughs and more natural interaction. This current of positivity carries us through tragedies and suffering and helps combat compassion fatigue.

Sarah: Did you ever become sick?

Christine: Yes. March 16th was the last day I worked before my family and I became sick with what we presume to be COVID. At that time, there were no tests available, and we were told to remain at home. We were fortunate to manage our symptoms at home, but it was a scary time. I kept in touch with colleagues by text, as we were among the first to become sick. I wanted to be open with them about what we were going through, since we both knew they would be next. This transitioned our relationship from friendly/professional into a tight bond.

Sarah: How did it feel coming back to work?

Christine: Returning to work after recovering was a relief but I was torn. I have three young children, at that time they were ages 8 months to 4 years. My training and experience drew me to come back; I was eager to be useful in a crisis. However, I was very worried my children would suffer because of my job. I sought out strategies to limit infection transmission returning to our home by having good disinfectant routines. Ultimately there was work to be done and I wanted to do it.

I wanted to lead by example for my colleagues, strengthening their hope and resolve by returning to work after sickness. As a mother with young children, my return to work was a strong statement because there was so much to fear because still so much is unknown. I relished the hope and encouragement I could give when colleagues would ask me about our experience of sickness. I could see my story and others like it build resiliency among colleagues as we each attempted to develop a new understanding of the value and risk of our work.

Having lived through chest pain, shortness of breath and painful neuropathy, I experienced the fear first hand and saw the value of psychological support and mental health care. My husband and I guided each other through breathing exercises, shared our fears and employed a dark humor. We were vigilant and responsive to symptoms, kept in touch with our doctor--but worked hard to stay connected and find humor throughout the day. Humor carried us through so much. It seemed to be the only anecdote to fear.

Usually these lessons would be considered personal or anecdotal. But in a crisis, it becomes necessary to maintain mental buoyancy among a team. Many households experience stressors of all kinds during this time. I find clinical value in some self-disclosure to colleagues. I am careful not to provide medical advice to families, but I am happy to share with a fellow parent that my children have been sick too. We are bonded strangers in those moments and I watch as their eyebrows gradually unfurrow, their posture starts to relax. There are usually tears, but they are tears of release, connection, and hope. I cannot offer reassurance, but I can offer connection.

“My role as a mental health provider began to absorb some of the responsibilities of a Chaplain. Patients and families expressed tremendous spiritual distress and would frequently request prayer at the bedside and over the phone during a clinical assessment.”

Sarah: What are some of your greatest concerns/worries on the job now?

Christine: In the early days I saw this COVID tsunami coming for communities of color – typically they are the first and most hard hit economically and have the least access to preventative healthcare, more pre-existing conditions, and fewest resources. I lamented in prayer and cursed in anger with my colleagues for the coming onslaught these communities would face. During moments I have allowed myself to consider it deeply, and I’m angry and broken-hearted.

I have many worries, but I’ll outline 5 for now:

1) Loved ones are not yet being contacted in real time for contact tracing and consultation due to lack of infrastructure. I wish I was seeing that resource and information ramp up faster. Our local services are amazing, but the lack of federal guidance is a daily hindrance.

2) The vast and deep suffering of patients and loved ones who cannot be together in the hospital. The COVID-19 deaths I have seen have been too rapid for family to reach the bedside prior to death. The patient can be relatively stable and then crash. Knowing a loved one died without family is a tremendous pain that cannot be described or quantified. The impact of which will be felt exponentially and throughout generations.

3) I’m worried by the patients I’m not seeing. Folks who need their routine medical care and important surgeries, victims of crime who are not seeking services or medical care, victims of intimate partner violence who are staying at home. It’s terrible knowing the next waves of this virus will be depression and desperation – exacerbating stressors for every form of suffering.

4) It’s also hard to see that some politicians and sectors of the public seem to be (messaging) healthcare as the enemy of the economy and freedom. I’m very upset by protest images of nurses standing in front of an angry public, many of whom will come through our doors for help. I’m worried about people’s search for answers and finding solace in conspiracies. I’m worried when I hear people say their life-long relationships are breaking down because of online arguments. I see folks lacking the ability to distinguish science from opinion, politics from public health. It’s a helpless feeling. Some folks don’t understand that without a shutdown, at least in this area, it would have been a slaughter. In this area we avoided that level of a crisis--we got ahead of it--for now. I’m worried for the gullible folks who are taking part in a false premise of freedom vs tyranny, who observe mask wearing as a rights infringement. I’m young, I’m healthy--you better believe I wear a mask to protect others. With COVID, our own breath is effectively second-hand smoke. Angrily refusing to wear a mask is like blowing smoke into someone’s face--but worse.

5) The economic and emotional damage is coming at us like an avalanche. Although our kids are breathing cleaner air these days, their national debt load will be so much higher than my lifetime and economic disparity will widen. I’m worried for the desperation that economic hardship will bring. I’m worried for the millions of children who are sheltering in abusive homes and cannot go to school for relief. I’m worried about partners in abusive relationships, feeling even more trapped. I’m worried that perpetrators will be increasingly abusive because of stress and their victim’s complete social isolation. I’m worried for elders who live alone and will suffer a fall, and that neighbor who usually walks by may not hear them calling for help. I’m worried for my own safety, that someone may assault me as a healthcare worker--a symbol for many of economic devastation and rights infringement.

Sarah: What is the best part of your job? What is the worst part?

Christine: The best part is being able to ease suffering. The worst part is when I can’t.

Sarah: How do you separate your personal life from work?

Christine: It’s not hard to separate my personal life from my work. After 7 years of this, I’m a well-oiled HIPAA machine and don’t talk about work at home. But it is harder to separate my work from my personal life. When I see friends and family putting up questionable information online, making light of the virus, or inciting arguments about how they are ‘against’ social distancing etc…it’s hard not to take it personally. In those discussions it feels like I am on the receiving end of so much misplaced anger. Healthcare workers did not create the COVID-19 crisis. We do not have job security. We risk our lives and those of our families because we believe it is right. We are prepared to work and called to serve. But increasingly I feel this false narrative being developed that healthcare workers are standing in the way of economic recovery. It feels supremely dangerous and unfair.

Sarah: Are you able to find hope in the midst of so much uncertainty?

Christine: Absolutely!

Sarah: As restrictions in LA County change, what can people do to help healthcare workers like you?

Christine: This is a great question. I think it comes down to patience, education and generosity. Be patient with our public health officials--a novel virus is a maniac to understand, let alone predict. Continue to educate yourself and your loved about ways you can limit transmission at every stage of activity i.e. at home, work, school etc. Lastly be generous. Donate to food banks, and if you own a business, donate food to a local hospital or nursing home. Send in PPE, posters, cards, flowers--anything and everything that will encourage workers. Appreciation and encouragement builds resiliency in the souls and immune systems of essential workers.

Sarah: Thank you, Christine!

Christine Chester, MSW, LCSW, works in the Los Angeles area as an Emergency Room Social Worker.

Sarah Butcher, LMFT, specializes in treating children, teens, new and postpartum parents, and young adults. Her work with children in developmental play therapy led to her certification as a DIR Intermediate Floortime provider.

Reflections on Belonging and Community during the COVID-19 Pandemic

April 27, 2020

“During this time, I’ve been finding myself at the intersection of two mostly opposing feelings: concerned and hopeful. ”

It has been quite interesting to witness how others have been responding to the COVID-19 pandemic as well as to notice things about my own process through it all. I find myself having different feelings about our new “normal.” During this time, I’ve been finding myself at the intersection of two mostly opposing feelings: concerned and hopeful. I have also discovered the many layers of what social distancing has looked like for other people (sometimes it’s not so bad — thank you social media!). However, I am also aware how it has been particularly isolating and difficult for some. Perhaps living alone is bringing on your own sense of loneliness and disconnection or your living situation isn’t the safest option during social distancing. There might be some grief and loss of the things you have had to cancel or miss like the trip you would have taken, the conference you were supposed to attend, or the job you looked forward to.

For me, there’s a sense of eeriness and sometimes groundlessness to this whole experience. And that’s when my need to feel a sense of belonging and community really comes into focus. In order to regain a connection to myself and to a more grounded reality, I have been FaceTime-ing/video calling people whom I love dearly. I find myself craving to slow down and rest. In that slowing down – I’ve been reading Braving the Wilderness by Brene Brown and All Along You were Blooming by Morgan Harper Nichols. I am delighted to have found new communities like #readyourbook (check it out here) and Sister Insider Club, a new and interesting reading community I have joined. Finding different communities in the midst of all these changes can be critical in feeling connected and like you belong.

words by Jamie Tworkowski, founder of To Write Love on Her Arms — words by Jamie Tworkowski, founder of **To Write Love on Her Arms**

In Braving the Wilderness, Brene Brown writes about the meaning of true belonging. In her signature mix of storytelling and research, Brown shares how we can journey back to ourselves and to one another in order to connect more authentically. Feeling like we belong is critical. It is a “deep sense of belonging that we are hardwired to crave” (Brown, 2017 p. 51). Reading about belonging has brought me a sense of grounded-ness. Poems by Morgan Harper Nichols have brought lightness and positivity amidst of all the unknown.

I was curious to hear how others were staying connected to their community or how they were finding community, and how they were managing social distancing and still feel like they belong. So, I asked people in my life the following question: what are you doing to stay connected to your community and feel like you belong?

Almost everyone responded with reaching to someone outside of their home like family, significant other, and friends whether it be through text, video call, or phone call. Additionally, going on walks has brought some peace as it provides the ability to greet neighbors, of course, making sure they are 6 feet apart. Others have continued to feel connected through constant interactions with co-workers via Zoom meetings.

I have also noticed something beautiful, a coming together of sorts to help others in the community. Some examples I’ve witnessed have been people asking their neighbor if they need anything from the grocery store, supporting small business via online purchasing, and neighbors within their building asking each other if they are in need of anything. I have taken note about how some small business have shifted in times of crisis to protect and provide for the community. I have been in awe of how we are coming together to help others. Places like Hail Mary Pizza are incredibly inspiring; they are providing free cheese pizza pies to all service industry workers (during specific times) who have lost their jobs as well as donating pies to hospitals.

The shift in our daily routine has us figuring out how to do life without going into the office/workplace, going out for a dine-in meal, or going to class. In this shift, I’ve noticed the attempts our collective community has taken in order to stay connected. There has been virtual dance parties, mini concerts by musicians, enjoying dinner virtually with friends, and virtual hangouts. I hope you are finding ways to stay connected in your community and that you are reaching to people that make you feel like you belong…because you do.

Paloma Franco, MS, is a Registered Psychological Assistant #PSB94024942 working under the supervision of Gabrielle Taylor, PhD, PSY# 22054. Paloma is a bilingual (Spanish & English) therapist who works with individuals, couples, and families to address a variety of issues, including anxiety, depression, trauma, relationship issues, and cultural challenges.

Music, Empathy, and Humanness: An Interview with The Brilliance

March 15, 2020

“Our entire ethos as a band is to try to create art that inspires empathy. And part of the reason we would say “art that inspires empathy,” is to be human is to also be connected to something bigger than just yourself. ”

— The Brilliance

With special appreciation to the musicians I have the gift of working with…

-Allie

Allie Ramsey: So, today we are talking about music and humanness from the perspective of two people who create beautiful music.

David Gungor: Thank you.

Allie: I was hoping to talk to you on this topic of music and humanness because I think your music, in particular, is something that I go back to over and over again, in order to draw out something in me that feels small that I want to become more robust. Or to draw out something I haven’t been able to fully connect to on my own. Can relate to that, or are there other musicians that do that for you?

David: Thank you. Our entire ethos as a band is to try to create art that inspires empathy. And part of the reason we would say “art that inspires empathy,” is to be human is to also be connected to something bigger than just yourself.

A lot of times in the West, in America, we tend to think through a Cartesian model of thinking, like, “I think therefore I am,” and it’s only about myself. Our starting point is, to be fully human is always to be a relational being. And we’re always connected to the other. In certain traditions and in certain upbringings, for instance in South Africa, you have the word “ubuntu,” which means “if you are not well, I am not well.” And our connectedness to each other and to the earth and to all of the cosmos. And so part of our band’s ethos is art that inspires empathy. Empathy towards the other will always lead to empathy back toward yourself. Because it’s connected.

John Arndt: I guess my favorite aspect of making music, and The Brilliance is a really great vehicle for this, is it’s an opportunity for me, for us to express ourselves, and to express things we are feeling or things we can’t fully understand, or things we’re struggling with. And the miracle of this process is, in doing that, we create things that somehow resonate with other people. That somehow becomes a voice and a part of their own story. And so in my life as, I am a full-time artist, I’m a full-time writer, and sometimes I’ll have these [moments of], you know, “What are you doing? You should have a salary and a mortgage, and that kind of thing.” And the thought that I have that brings me the most peace about what I’m doing and what we’re doing is, at any given moment on the planet right now, our music is resonating in different rooms. And in different peoples lives, and on some level, our music and our hopes and our dreams are vibrating in the earth and in some way - I hope - making it a little bit more peaceful and a little bit more whole. That thought of the connectedness that comes from us expressing ourselves is a miracle and I’m grateful to be able to be a part of it.

Allie: That is really true of my experience. Your music has resonated in my soul in a powerful way.

John: Thank you

Allie: I was curious, given that music is so powerful, and can be such an impactful way of inspiring empathy, inspiring a sense of connectedness to all of humanity, or to others who enjoy that song or piece -- what it's like for you two as artists to wield that sort of power?

David: I think one, is there is a certain burden, and there is a certain thing where music transcends language. So like melody, if you’re drawn into it you can wrestle with an idea, and you’re feeling it first (and I know this is somewhat metaphorical) but you’re feeling it first in your body, before you’re really comprehending with your mind what’s happening. So I feel like when you have that type of thing with music, when there’s a melody and a thing that’s moving people, there is a certain responsibility to not just try to manipulate things (where you’re trying to write in a certain way that will just cause an emotional response). And a lot of times lyrically that can happen, when you’re writing something, it’s really easy to feel like you’re the hero, or you’re the person that believes the right thing, or you’re the person that controls this power.

John: So, the huge pit fall in my life in regards to this is I’m always chasing a feeling. My favorite experiences in music, they have to do with hearing something and then having a physical response to it. And for me it's like a feeling in my chest and down my spine, I would say. In general, if I hear something that moves me, it's like a physical sensation. So for me oftentimes, the creative process is an uncovering of that sensation when I discover an idea, or a collection of sounds paired with an idea, that I experience that feeling, and I go, “Ah! This is a thing.”

What happens when I’m pursuing that on a day to day basis, even in the process of making a song, the big pitfall in my life is becoming a feelings junky. You know, it doesn’t always feel good, and oftentimes it’s work, and how about the 300th time you listen to this same song you’re working on. Just about every song we’ve ever made has been at one point my favorite song I’ve ever heard and my least favorite song that I’ve ever heard.

(laughter)

And all of those perspectives on some level are valid. You put a song out there in the world, you’ve got people that go, “That song’s complete bullshit,” and they can have a perfectly valid reason for saying that, and I don’t think they’re wrong, because I’ve probably experienced that perspective too. So what’s tricky then as a result of this, is we want to make music that’s powerful, I want to make music that’s powerful, but then I also want to have a stable emotional life, not get too high, not get too low. So I don’t really have a good answer for that, but I recognize the pitfall in my life.

Allie: Yeah, that’s so interesting. It makes the music, whatever song you’re working on, sound like its own human to me.

John and David: Yeah.

Allie: You see all the good parts and all the bad parts.

John: I was just talking with someone we had been working with that had been sort of offended or hurt by us deleting something. They worked on something, and then we deleted it, and we didn’t even realize, we were like, “Oh, this isn’t quite the right thing,” deleted it, and then it was kind of hurtful to her. And we ended up having this whole discussion about how in my creative life, and in every creative life, the most vulnerable thing about it is you spend all this time, and you discover an idea, maybe its a visual idea, a musical idea, whatever creative idea, and then say you’re working on a film score, working for a client, or whatever, you offer this baby up to them, and oftentimes, you’ll get a response like, “Eh, no. It needs something else, try something else.” Or, “Oh that didn’t really move me.” And you’re like, “It didn’t move you. That’s my baby we’re talking about. That’s my last -- how many hours, how many days?” It’s like, “I was just weeping over that. What the hell are you talking about?”

(laughter)

And learning how to separate yourself, because for me, there’s also this element with creativity where to get to a good idea, you often have to get through a lot of ideas that aren’t that good. But you never would have gotten to that good idea unless you actually took the pathway of these four ideas that led to each other, and all of them end up getting deleted, but they lead you to the fifth idea, which is this incredible song, and you have to be willing to have all this dead stuff you loved as part of that process.

Allie: Yeah.

“A lot of times in the West, in America, we tend to think through a Cartesian model of thinking, like, “I think therefore I am,” and it’s only about myself. Our starting point is, to be fully human is always to be a relational being. And we’re always connected to the other. In certain traditions and in certain upbringings, for instance in South Africa, you have the word “ubuntu,” which means “if you are not well, I am not well.” And our connectedness to each other and to the earth and to all of the cosmos. And so part of our band’s ethos is art that inspires empathy. Empathy towards the other will always lead to empathy back toward yourself. Because it’s connected.”

David: And I think that the most difficult thing about being a person that’s creative, and maybe this will play into relationship ideas as well, but ideas on one hand, we give them human traits, because they come from us, which is awesome. But our ideas are not us. And the reason why I think that’s important, is just like John was saying, if you throw out an idea, and someone for whatever reason rejects it, even if they’re not rejecting it because it’s bad, but just it doesn’t work right now, sometimes we feel like, “You reject my idea, you reject me.” And that’s back to that thing of, whatever your thoughts are, they’re not just you. So you have to be able, in a creative relationship, to have enough humility. And especially in a working environment, your talents and your ego -- I’ve heard this before from my dad, where he’s like, “Your ego is like your fingernails, where if it goes unchecked, it gets really gnarly. (laughter) And on one hand it's good to have some fingernails, you don’t want to have no ego. You want to have some self confidence, you want to have some sense of, “I’m worth this.” But if it goes unchecked, it gets gnarly. If you’re working with people who, [in response to] “Hey, what about this?” are just like, “You’re an idiot. You don’t know. My idea is the right idea, always.” And that’s where I’m like, there's some type of balancing act. It comes out of you, and there is an emotion, there is a baby nature of it because it comes out of you. But it’s also not just you. You are more than just your idea.

Allie: Yeah, that makes sense. And that makes me wonder, because I know you two have been creating music together for a long time. I’m curious how you have navigated that process of creation together. What’s your collaboration like, and what is it like to go through that process with someone else? How is it for you, experiencing the creation of something that takes on a life of its own, and then sharing in the refining of that with someone else?

David: I think it's very much like any other friendship or relationship or work relationship. John and I have been friends our entire lives, since diapers, we have pictures of us doing stuff. And it’s a friendship that transcends the work relationship. Within the work relationship, we believe and love each other, but also can be honest with one another. And there have been hard times, but it’s also one of those things like in any relationship, there needs to be communication. Sometimes we have a hard time working together, [due to] my bad communication or a misunderstanding, or not being able to talk about things. But [we also work on] fostering and encouraging what you’re good at, and knowing when to limit. So for instance, we’ve always worked from afar. And one of the things is I have to learn how to edit better in Pro Tools so that when I send John something, it's not a hot mess. And when he is honest and communicates about it in a kind way, it’s like “Oh, I really need to take time in this.” But sometimes it’d be like any other relationship where it’s “Oh, this was bad,” and “I worked so hard on this, it’s bad?!”

John: You want me to pick up your laundry man?! You want me to pick up your laundry for you?

David: Exactly.

(laughter)

David: And that’s where it's like any relationship, and in any work relationship, there’s gonna be tensions, but I feel like learning how to fight well, learning how to communicate well, learning how to trust each other, encourage each other. Learning how to bring out what you do and your weaknesses and actually try to address those weaknesses. But if you ask, “Well what's the bedrock in that?” It’s our friendship! And it doesn’t have to be the only thing that defines our whole life. If John’s only thing is this friendship from a musical side of things, or a life side of things, that would be too much dependence. So there has to be a healthy independence and also a healthy [dependence].

Allie: Yeah, I like that.

John: I guess the only thing I would say is any song, any album, any project is the amalgamation of hundreds of creative decisions. And so it's really important for me, whatever I can give room, where there is a creative decision I don't feel strongly about or I’m not ready to die on that hill, leave room for your collaborators to express themselves, to offer their best ideas. Like “Oh, I didn't think of that,” Or, “Oh, that’s different than what I thought, but that works!” As much as I possibly can, I am leaving space to that, so that when I get to things that are like, “This has to be, it has to be this, [for me]” it can have some weight. Because it’s really easy, especially coming from a classically trained background, there is this desire, or there is this myth that goes around about the creative genius: this sole person who has all of these amazing ideas and is the mastermind. It can be this fantasy that you can get lost in. But any person is better if they open themselves up for collaboration and editing. There is going to be improvement if you can get outside of yourself.

Allie: Yeah. Oh that’s so interesting. I could see the draw of that kind of fantasy though, because it seems like it would feel reassuring in the process of all the vulnerability of trying to create something.

John: Right.

Allie: Another thing I was really curious about - you spoke of the power to move emotions through music and how we start out having a bodily experience of that even before our brain can catch up with it - how do you think about the elements of music and how that impacts humans? Like beat, or I know you included a lot of orchestral elements in your most recent album. What are your thoughts on that?

John: We grew up in a charismatic church, and my first musical education was, to say it bluntly, how certain sounds change the temperature of the room, and certain sounds can derive certain emotions. So if the pastor was talking about a certain thing, or there is a certain type of prayer meeting going on, one of [my first lessons] in musical education was how music, how certain sounds affect people. But then it was later on that I learned technique and theory and history, but yeah the first thing for me was learning how to manipulate people with music.

David: My brothers are also both into this. And John is more educated than me on music, so I think he would be able to say it better. But there are ideas of chakras in music, where you hear a frequency, and it affects your body differently. And it is funny because, I don’t know how backed it is by science at all, it might be all pseudoscience, but it’s funny like when you hear a normal A, when someone is tuning, when they hit 440 Hz is an American A. But then you go to certain places and they do it differently. Right now in New York, some people tune to 441 Hz, which means it’s like a little bit more sharp, and it seems a little more intense, while in other music, the A, would be like 432 Hz or something. Which is a little more like chill and it affects you differently.

Allie: Oh, wow!

John: What’s weird is if you go on YouTube and you search 432 Hz vs 440 Hz patterns, you can see in sand and in water that 432 Hz frequencies (so tuned down a little bit) actually create way more stable looking geometrical shapes in matter. Which is, I don't know what to say about that!

David: So, there are theories then on, I mean John would know this better - John, what have they traditionally said is like the saddest key? Or the saddest chord?

John: I mean I guess it depends on your perspective. Different composers had [different thoughts], like E flat would be heroic and I think C minor might be the most tragic

(laughter)

David: Which I mean, on one end that is totally subjective, but on another end it is funny that in a way music really does move you bodily. It's an actual physical reaction.

Allie: That’s intriguing, I love hearing your thoughts on that. Is that something that you take into account as you create different pieces? Or is it more of an intuitive process for you?

David: John how would you respond to that?

John: Would we take into account how it affects people?

Allie: Yeah, different elements and how that affects people.

John: I mean, I don’t know how to get anyone to listen to something let alone connect with it. But the idea comes and I’m moved by the idea, then the challenge is, how can I package this idea so there is the least amount of barrier between that idea and the people who listen to it. I find that probably most of the time, I end up getting in my own way of trying to deliver an idea. Like, maybe if I put these sprinkles on top, or I add some extra gravy, it will get down the hatch, get someone to like this idea. And it can easily be overdone.

Allie: What is most meaningful or rewarding to you in the process of creating music right now.

David: We’ve had stories -- there’s a person whose wife was giving birth, and the child was born not breathing. And he was totally shocked, the room was totally silent, the doctors and nurses were working on this baby, and then one of our songs from our first album came up, Breathe. And the baby breathed. And for them it was this incredibly emotional moment.

John: There’s this big long dramatic intro, and then the first lyric is breathe. And the baby breathes.

David: So for him, that song is connected to probably his most traumatic moment but also his most intense moment of life. And there are other stories. A lot of times it’s people getting through sadness. I mean there’s some joy and there’s a lot of sadness, where people have lost loved ones or children and our music has meant a lot to them in those times. Or maybe they’ve been dealing with existential anxiety or loss of faith, or different things, where the music has gotten them through something. And that’s where you’re like, “This is so much bigger than us.” Because through the person who is engaging the music, it takes on a life of its own, and it moves from being just an idea. When it’s shared, now it really does have a life. And that life doesn’t just belong to us. And that’s where we find the most meaningful things: different stories of people engaging with the music, and it's so much bigger than us. John what would you say?

John: That is a big part, a huge gift. And our conception for making music as The Brilliance has always been: it comes from us it comes from our hearts, but it’s always connected to something bigger. So for some people at first glance the name The Brilliance is like “Oh man, sounds like we’ve got some egos here.” But for me The Brilliance has always been about something bigger than us. So whatever it is, there’s always something bigger in play. So in our lives, we’re partnering with organizations. This fall we were on a tour with Preemptive Love who do all this work in places affected by war. And World Relief, in partnership with DACA Dreamers, and we’re often involved in a mission of some kind, and that feels amazing and also makes it feel like we have a real job and are helping people. I love that.

But then also in my life right now, I just moved to Paris, so one of my dreams about my Paris time -- and I think this has to do with my midwestern upbringing or something, I have a hard time making music if i don't feel like I’m serving something or working, there's some kind of midwestern work ethic, like, “What is this, all about yourself? You know, you’re just sitting around tinkering around, dilly dallying? You should have a mortgage by now.” That kind of thing. (laughter)

But one goal I have, outside of The Brilliance (we have a lot of music coming up, and a lot of really beautiful stuff that I’m so excited about), I really want to make something beautiful just for the sake of it being beautiful, and not connected to any outside justification, or philosophy... just a beautiful thing. I’m gonna wander around Paris and make something pretty, because I can also do that in this world. And I feel so grateful, I don't take it lightly. So I'm pursuing that as much as I can.

Allie: Wow. Well thank you both from the bottom of my heart. It's a real privilege for me to get to talk with you.

The Brilliance, a band made up of long-time friends Jon Arndt and David Gungor, is an eclectic CCM/worship music duo who combine indie pop, folk, and classical elements. They released their official full-length debut, 'Brother,' through Integrity Music in 2015, which garnered critical acclaim, peaking at number 36 on the Billboard Christian Albums chart. 'All Is Not Lost,' the duo's much-anticipated sophomore Integrity release, arrived in 2017, this time reaching number 20 on the Christian chart and breaking into the Heatseekers chart as well. In 2018, the Brilliance turned their creative attention to politics -- specifically DACA and the plight of the undocumented DREAMers facing deportation in the U.S.

Allison (Allie) Ramsey is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist Therapist. Allie works with individuals on a broad range of issues, including anxiety, depression, relational challenges, faith integration, divorce, and aging.

Reckoning with Racism / Turning To Love: An Interview with Manon Voice, Poet & Activist

February 23, 2020

“....coming into my own blackness has been such a journey. And it’s been such a trying journey. It’s been a difficult journey that the process of decolonizing your own mind from living in a society where white is the norm, where blackness is seen as deviant, where blackness is seen as inferior, the journey and the courage that one undergoes to reclaim their sense of identity – so me as an African American woman reclaiming my sense of identity that has been systemically and very intentionally in this country oppressed, that has been dismissed, that has been erased, is such a revolutionary act of courage. ”

— Manon Voice

Taz Morgan: I’m so delighted to be speaking with Manon Voice. She is a poet, hip hop emcee, spoken word artist, and social justice activist from Indianapolis. She’s also a friend to MHT. She joined us at our first annual retreat last October and basically performed for us one night and led us through some exercises to help us get reflective about love and community. We thought you’d be a great person to interview. We kind of want to continue the conversation around race. In December one of my colleagues Chelsea interviewed a psychoanalyst Dr. Lynne Jacobs. She writes a lot about whiteness in the therapy world. And we thought you, Manon, would have, I don’t know, just help us make this conversation interesting. To continue the dialogue. So yea, I guess we’ll start from there!

Manon Voice: Thank you for having me. I am very grateful to be a friend of MHT, the group there. I was very delighted to be among you all and begin a beautiful relationship – so very, very glad to now be reconnecting a couple months later. I had such a good experience with you all in the beautiful mountains of Idyllwild, California. I had some very transformative experiences there. Even as I was sharing with you all, there were things going on within me, that I’m even just unpacking in my own journey and in my own life. So yes, I’m very, very grateful for that experience with you that just began a beautiful relationship and friendship. So thank you for having me.

TM: Yea, thank you. So I guess I’m curious about how your work, or how you see poets contributing to changing narratives, changing conversations on race. We, MHT, is a predominantly white practice, white women. And you know, we’re trying to contend with that. I think it can feel, you know, I can feel nervous, like I don’t want to make a mistake. I’m thinking, how can we make the next best step in addressing privilege. We really value poetry at our practice. Just wondering how your work intersects with these ideas or these questions.

MV: So, I’ll sort of start with you had asked me about poetry. The poetic lineage, which I always like to pay homage to, is that of African American poets in this country and they start as far back as Phyllis Wheatly who was actually a slave.

TM: Did you say Phyllis? Phyllis Wheatly?

MV: Yes…and she actually published a book of poetry and then was taken to trial for it because they couldn’t believe that she could actually write as well as she did. But she eventually bought her way to freedom because she was so profound and her poetry was beautiful. So, we can talk about people like that. And also people like Paul Laurence Dunbar who has a famous poem We Wear the Mask and The Caged Bird - Maya Angelou borrows from that poem. He was living during the Reconstruction Era and talks about the realities of African Americans struggling through post-slavery society. And then we can go a little further up to the Harlem Renaissance, and we can talk about poets like Langston Hughes and James Weldon Johnson and they were expressing the realities of what it felt like for African Americans at that time to be living at a time when there was such intense racial upheaval, especially living in Harlem at the time, and there were the race riots that were going on in 1919. So they were talking about the brutalities of what African Americans were experiencing at that time. And what it was like to feel like a second-class citizen. We can go a little further up to poets like [Gwendolyn] Brooks - her work talked about the migration of 20 million African Americans from the south at that time; who traveled north and west and east to make better lives for themselves. Then we can go a little further up and talk about the Black Arts Movement, right alongside the Civil Rights Movement. These poets were Nikki Giovanni and Sonia Sanchez and Amiri Baraka and they were talking about that time of also racial unrest. That time where they were willing to take a different stand. They were willing to claim their own power. They were willing to celebrate blackness in this new kind of riveting way. And they were also activists. They spoke the language, but they also walked the walk. And that took them expressing themselves through the art was a vehicle of revolution. It was not separate. It was something that was very integral. And I look at my path as also being very, very similar to those poets who I consider my ancestors who I credit my journey and the work I’m doing now to the blueprint that they left. Audre Lorde, a beautiful black feminist queer writer, talks about how poetry is not a luxury - especially for African Americans, but particularly for African American women. And that’s who she was talking about. The use of language and how we reckon with what’s going on in the world through words, through art, is a powerful medium. It’s a powerful medium that helps us stay grounded with what we know to be true about who we are when we live in a world that wants to denigrate that, that wants to despise our existence. It is a way of staying sane, of looking in the mirror and claiming our own identity, claiming our own sense of blackness, our own sense of queerness, our own sense of womanhood. And then it is also a way to speak truth to power and to confront the systems and to confront the systemic problems that we are faced with. I do view my art as activism and that’s not separate. The ethos of my work...I always like to say that I consider myself a little bit of a poetic journalist, if I can say that. Really looking at the issues that we face, looking at the past, the present, and the future, and looking at the issues that we are being confronted with, especially when it comes to social justice issues. But also thinking about who we can be. So I want my work to always have some hope and to be holding out for hope about who we can be. This is where we are...we have to be honest with ourselves if we’re going to make changes. We have to be able to face what’s uncomfortable, what’s ugly. (Audio disrupted) One of my favorite writers, Toni Morrison, and I’m paraphrasing this genius of a woman, she basically says “This is no time to crouch in fear.” And then she says “We do language, and that’s how civilization heals. That’s how we keep moving forward.” And so I see my work as being in that kind of schema.

TM: There’s just a... I don’t know...there’s humility in what you speak of in paying homage to this lineage...this love for the people who came before you or your ancestors.

MV: Absolutely, yes.

TM: That just seems like an important element of your activism, or that idea of an artist being an activist – knowing where…how you got to where you are, where you come from. My introduction to you was through watching your video where you’re performing Dark Matter. Could you just talk a little more about that? You know, “Blackness is a Miracle” is a line that’s repeated. I’m so curious as to how you birthed that, how it came into being, what it means to you.

MV: Sure. Well, it’s definitely and unequivocally a celebration of blackness, an elevation of blackness. There’s a lot of, I think, probably mysticism that is also sort of threaded through there as I’m talking about how everything starts, right, the world as we know it, or the world as we comprehend it, how everything sort of began in darkness and the world was formed from that. So I’m sort of using that as this theme about everything comes from the dark womb, how everything comes from blackness, and how civilization as we know it began in Africa, right? What we call the mother country, the mother home, that’s where the cradle of civilization began - somewhere in Northern Africa. So we have started with blackness, we have come out of the darkness of the universe, being a dark people, and how we have, in this country particularly, when we talk about whiteness there is the contrast, this illusion that has been created to benefit one group of people over another. The premise of that was that darkness, dark skin was demonic, was of the devil, was bad, and that white people, just for having white skin, a white complexion, that they are superior. That white people are superior based on just that, which is just a huge and a grave deception. Living in this country as a black person of African descent, who, you know I think about - I think I talked a bit about this – my great grandmother being a sharecropper and being from Mississippi, and Mississippi was one of the states that was one of the worst record keeping states. In fact, there were people in my family who thought that their birthday was one day, and then maybe found out later. So, I’ve been cut off from a lot of my history. From my own personal experience, coming into my own blackness has been such a journey. And it’s been such a trying journey. It’s been a difficult journey that the process of decolonizing your own mind from living in a society where white is the norm, where blackness is seen as deviant, where blackness is seen as inferior, the journey and the courage that one undergoes to reclaim their sense of identity – so me as an African American woman reclaiming my sense of identity that has been systemically and very intentionally in this country oppressed, that has been dismissed, that has been erased, is such a revolutionary act of courage. And it’s a necessary and revolutionary act of courage that every day, when I see myself, when I look in the mirror, that I reclaim my own identity. That I reclaim my own beauty. That I reclaim my own lineage. That I reclaim my own heritage as a black person in this country. And that that blackness is beautiful, that that blackness is brilliant. What I do know about where we come from as African Americans is a history of genius, and it’s a history of exploits, and it’s a history of miracles, and it’s a history of people making contributions to history, people making contributions to civilization in ways that we are still studying and trying to figure out. So that poem really came out of that, that blackness is a miracle, to live in this country every day and to survive it as a black person is miraculous, I feel. And I don’t think that I’m alone in that sentiment. When you exist within a system where there is, not only just a threat of physical violence, but there’s the psychological warfare that’s going on everyday.

TM: Yeah, it’s psychic warfare too.

MV: Yeah, it’s been necessary to look at the physical violence and the physical brutality, it’s been so necessary to look at that, but what really cracks, I think, at the soul, even beyond the body, is the psychological warfare that is endured day to day to day to day, the microaggressions that are endured. You know, at this point in my life I have worked many many jobs. And I’ve worked for people who claim to be liberals and claim to be inclusive and culturally competent who had no idea of some of the distasteful language that they were using around people they deemed other than them, and the way that we survived that, and the way that we endured that, and the way that we sometimes feel like how much – the way we have to make daily decisions about what do we fight or what do we not.

TM: Right.

MV: Yeah, and so it’s like, what do I put my energy into fighting today because my coworker just said this, or my boss just said this, and even though it hurts, but I still have to keep my job, maybe I have children at home, I have bills due so I can’t quit…

TM: Right, or the taxing nature of being like “I’m becoming the representative of everyone that looks like me.”

MV: Yeah, and you know sometimes it can just be, aside from that, that people have not reckoned with their own sense of othering others, you know?

TM: Yeah.

MV: And so, you know, they don’t realize some of the harmful things that they’re saying, they don’t realize some of the harmful practices that they are carrying out that are really harmful to the spirits of people of color and of marginalized people. And I’ve existed within that. I can tell you I have two friends that don’t know each other - this is really interesting because they worked for the same organization and they were in the same role as the person who was responsible for diversity and inclusion, and these were two black women, and both of them left. And both of them when they told me why they left, they really had almost identical stories. Like how they were sort of used as puppets for this organization to appear that this organization was diverse and inclusive, but when they challenged some of the decisions, some of the policies that were going on within the organization, then the powers-that-be refused. They just wanted to kind of look diverse and look inclusive on the face, we wanna put you on the flyers, and we’re gonna have you at the events as the black face, but we really don’t want to do the root work, you know?

TM: Yeah, yeah.

MV: So, we’re coming up against, and the challenge that we have is the performative justice vs doing the actual root work.

TM: Right and I think that’s why at MHT, we’re trying to ask ourselves what that work - real work - would look like. That’s what we’re trying to ask ourselves internally at this point. I don’t know. I think some of what you were saying earlier about having the courage, or to kind of get out of these illusions, I mean some of what you were saying reminds me a little bit about the courage to start going to therapy - to kind of face things about yourself that feel scary or ugly or whatever. I’m trying to put words to, I don’t know, we’re just trying to figure out what kind of conversations do we want to be having, and how to walk the walk and not just think just in general. There’s this movement in the psychotherapy world to take stands on social issues – whether it’s therapists or an organization saying separating kids from their parents at the border has detrimental effects or whatever.

“I truly believe that love is the strongest force in the universe. And I know how love can sound like a cop-out when we are facing really threatening issues. Everyone wants to talk about love. But I don’t cheapen love. Real love challenges us to grow. It challenges us to transform, to change, and to live up to who we can be as human beings. And I believe in that.”

— Manon Voice

MV: And I think that we’ll have to talk about who, because you know we also have to reckon with access to mental healthcare.

TM: Yeah!

MV: Talk about who in this country is able to use mental health resources and the hierarchy of who we believe deserves it even. I think that’s a conversation that we have to have, and quite unfortunately we are still wrestling with the fact that there have been a lot of people that have benefited from the system within mental healthcare services, and you know, I’m not an expert, but I do have friends that work in these fields, and I’ve also gone to therapy for years, and I know that just like very profession deserves, it has its rank in as far as how long a person has gone to school, but there’s also this conversation about so many people being left out of receiving mental health care services because of poverty, and poverty is systemic. And it’s a vicious cycle because the people who are most traumatized in this country, and are the most marginalized in this country, often feel like they don’t have access to mental health. And that is really unfortunate because of the amount of trauma that one endures day to day to day. And even when they do go to see a mental health professional, they feel like “you can’t understand…”

TM: Yeah! They feel the compounded trauma of being othered in a space where theoretically you’d be understood.

MV: Yep. I have a friend who just had a general practice where she was just sort of seeing whoever would come. And then she changed and she decided to focus on – she said “you know what, I want to make my practice focused on the most marginalized – people of color and people who are queer,” because these are the people who are undergoing a lot of trauma that is very specific to their sense of identity in this country, and who also feel marginalized when they go into their normal therapist’s office who is probably white, who they feel like can’t relate to what they’re going through. And so I do feel it is important for therapists, for white mental health practitioners and clinicians, to start having these important conversations. I am glad to hear that MHT is taking steps towards understanding that. Like I really am. And I think the tools, I think that we have tools. I think it’s a personal and it’s a spiritual journey, and it’s also a practical journey – sort of undoing your own bias, your own racism.

TM: Yeah!

MV: There are implicit bias classes that at least give you an access point to know that this is some biases that you have. I know where I’m from, Indianapolis, we have an undoing racism course that I know it used to be free where it’s like anybody could come. Whether that’s the board of organizations or that was just a person who just walked off the street and was just sort of interested in taking that journey. And so...I was looking at the last interview that was done with the doctor…

TM: Yeah, Lynne Jacobs, yeah.

MV: And I saw the list of books and resources that were there at the end, so there’s a lot of knowledge out there, and there are a lot of ways for people to kind of get started on taking that journey.

TM: I know on Instagram there were a lot of people following Layla Saad who did the Me and White Supremacy workbook. And I think she now has a book. White followers were going through this course...it was about implicit bias. There is a real self-reflective thing that is being called for.

MV: Yeah.

TM: What you said about language...giving voice...really naming things also resonates with my idea of psychoanalysis or psychotherapy...is the idea of “speaking the unspeakable” and giving voice to things from the unconscious. Also, you were saying that your work is hopeful. There’s hope in it, too. To close our conversation a bit....How does hope...I don’t know...What do you envision for the future of this country? Gosh, that feels like such a BIG question!

MV: We’re in a deep time of reckoning. What we are seeing and what we are experiencing....we talk about polarization and this intense socio-political climate that we’re living in where folks feel so divided; feel more separate from each other. Honestly, I look at that because... As psychotherapists, you do the work of taking people through the journey of the subconscious, through the ego...of getting through that deeper sediment that blinds us all. And we have to get through all that ugliness sometimes. Right? And I’ve been in therapy…

TM: Right, you generally feel a lot worse before you start to feel better.

MV: Miserable!

TM: Yeah, miserable. (Laughs).

MV: It can take a long time. You feel miserable. You are confronting your shadow. In this country, we have not done a good job. We have wanted to jump these steps when we need to go back. And we have to really….I use this term “repentant.” [We have to repent.] I know it’s gonna have a religious connotation. But when I look at the root meaning of that word, it actually means “to turn.”

TM: Oh, wow.

MV: Yeah, making a turn. The only way to do that is to reckon with what’s been done. And we don’t want to do that as a country. Some of us do and some of us can’t help but live in that reality. The white majority in this country….the systemic oppression and the problems we have in this country stem from this idea of superiority, colonialism, and “white is right” and through that belief there were Native Americans that were decimated and displaced; there were Africans that were stolen and brought here for free labor and who built this country for hundreds of years and who are still second class citizens. We have to start from the very beginning and go back and say “Wow, this has been done. And we have been responsible.” If I’m living today, I feel like “Oh no…”

TM: Right, that idea of “it has nothing to do with me.”

MV: I think white people have to reckon with the fact that they have benefitted from a system. That reckoning has to happen. It can start small. It can start within an organization, within a church, within a neighborhood. It’s not gonna trickle down. Looking like our government now, it’s not gonna trickle down. Maybe it will make its way up. I think that sometimes….I know for sure what we are seeing is a result of what we have not been willing to deal with. There are so many of us asking: How did we get here? Why are we here? Why are things so divided? Why are things so intense? And doing that [the work of reckoning with our racist history] means doing the long, deep shadow work and that’s where it has to start -- taking that long, honest look at what’s been done and who has benefited and who has not benefited. And so, I was getting to the hope in that….

TM: I was thinking about that...Yeah, hope can be so loaded. I’m thinking of this interview that Stephen Colbert did with Ta-Nehisi Coates. Where Colbert asks Coates what he is hopeful about with his divide and polarization [in terms of race relations in the US]. And Coates said “I don’t have any hope.” I was thinking “Gosh, hope is such a loaded term. ...I love the language of repenting and turning. And I think your poetry...it’s like….there’s delight and joy and pleasure in it, too.

MV: Thank you for that reflection. That’s honestly so important for me, Taz. It’s important for me to also be a part of beauty-making.

TM: Yeah, it’s so moving and so beautiful. It’s aesthetically beautiful.

MV: Thank you. I truly believe that love is the strongest force in the universe. And I know how love can sound like a cop-out when we are facing really threatening issues. Everyone wants to talk about love. But I don’t cheapen love. Real love challenges us to grow. It challenges us to transform, to change, and to live up to who we can be as human beings. And I believe in that. The reason why I get up... If I get up in the morning...existing in this world, as tragic and disheartening as it can sometimes be...The reason why I walk out my door and say hello and good morning to someone that I don’t know is because deep inside, I want to believe in the best of humanity - that we all have something divine; that we all have something in us that is truly, truly good. If we can get through this shadow energy; if we can reckon with ourselves...if we can do that true repenting and that true reconciling, then we can create a better world. To call myself a social justice activist or advocate, but then not believe it could get better, I feel like it’s counterproductive. I’m working for a future that I want for generations...when you and I are no longer here...like in 7 generations...I want them to be so further along in this conversation. All of us can commit to that day by day...whether we want to call it hope or something else. The truth is that when we work for change, that’s exactly what we are doing - we are working to create something better. Even if I don’t see it in my lifetime, Taz… I want my grandchildren’s children, children, children... to be able to see; to live in a better world; to see a world where they are not threatened; where have a sense of belonging. If I want it for them, then I have to truly want that for every human being on this earth, no matter what color they are. I have to truly want that for every human being. In my deepest heart of hearts, I really do want that. And that’s where that hope, that beauty comes in. So, at the same time I’m speaking truth, it’s also undergirded with love and hope that we can really do better as human beings. Every day we are being called to do better and to make those small decisions. It can start in your neighborhood, with your friend, with your co-workers to have those conversations that allow us to heal these deep rifts that we have. I believe it’s possible.

TM: That feels like a good place to end, too. Again, that’s so moving. Affectively….ahhh...I can keep going. What you were saying about waking up...Like, Why wake up everyday and just be an adult?...it’s for the love of humanity. That was very moving. I wondered if you had any closing thoughts for now. Anything else on your mind?

MV: I live among beautiful people who are doing things everyday to move the notch forward. While it’s so easy to look at the news and be discouraged, you can also just look around and see….There’s a no-questions-asked food pantry in my community that just celebrated their 1-year anniversary of providing food to people without needing to ask all these questions about where you live, how much money you make, and if you deserve it. I have a friend who is doing that. And I have friends who are challenging policies that are harmful to the most marginalized. I have friends who are talking to city officials about responsible policing. I have friends who are running after school clubs to mentor young people. I have friends who are using their art to provoke dialogue around issues and who are using their art to beautify neighborhoods. My best friend is a brilliant teacher. I look around in my world and I do see the good. I think the good is contagious. The bad is too (Laughs). But the good is contagious. We can all do something. If we can look at the turning...I do see some important dialogue. We can argue about how late we are. But I do feel like we are having more dialogue about race relations in this country, at least from my purview and my experience. And about all kinds of other issues about who benefits and who doesn’t. I think that the turmoil is part of the process. I think if we stay focused on that...I think that focus has to be really intentional, not just complacency. All of us can do something. I just want to encourage others to be part of the change and to also look around at your community to those that are doing the work and trying to help. I see you doing this...or I see you started this non-profit organization where you’re helping the homeless...Can I join the board? Or can I help spread the word? Or help in some way? Seeing the good, valuing the good, and coming alongside the good!

TM: Those are helpful, small, actionable things. I love that idea of a turn - a turn to love, a love turn. Thank you so much for your time. And for your energy and your mind and your heart.

MV: I’m happy just to share. And grateful for the work that you guys are doing there. Let’s keep healing. Let’s keep at it!

Manon Voice is a native of Indianapolis, Indiana and is a poet and writer, spoken word artist, hip-hop emcee, educator, social justice activist and practicing contemplative. Manon Voice seeks to use her art and activism to create a communal space where dialogue, transformation, discovery and inspiration can occur.

Taz Morgan, MA, is an Associate Marriage and Family Therapist, IMF #99714, working under the supervision of Gabrielle Taylor, PhD. She has trained in Depth-oriented psychotherapy and works with adolescents, adults, and couples.

Dear White Therapists: An Interview with Dr. Lynne Jacobs

December 15, 2019

Chelsea Small: Dr. Jacobs, in May you came to Michelle Harwell Therapy (MHT) and gave an excellent training on whiteness. In your article "Learning to Love White Shame and Guilt," you speak about the assumption of whiteness and white-centeredness. I am wondering if you can speak a bit about your experiences with white-centeredness in the therapy world.

Dr. Lynne Jacobs: One thing I have noticed about white-centeredness in the therapy world is how ignorant white therapists are about what their whiteness means—both in the world and in the consulting room. Many white therapists seem to suffer from the “white fragility” of which Robin Di Angelo [a white academic and lecturer] writes. They feel personally insulted/assaulted by being asked to take a look at how whiteness functions in society (and therefore, in the consulting room). They take it personally rather than understanding that we are all caught up in whiteness, whether we like it or not.

Aside from the sense of fragility and/or defensiveness that may inhibit necessary conversations, it also leads to a defensively organized disinterest in learning the history that can help one broaden their understanding of the differing contexts that we each bring into the consulting room. I am sometimes surprised and dismayed, I must admit, by the ignorance that some white therapists have about what it means to be a perpetual “other,” in most contexts. They don’t know much history of white supremacy and white privilege, and some seem uninterested.

I have also met many white therapists who ARE interested, and in fact, eager to learn. In that case, I recommend they start with DiAngelo’s “White Fragility” writings (and her talks available on YouTube), and then go on to find blogs by people of color, and also turn to books that can open their ordinary ideas about our history.

CS: Do you have any suggestions for how we can begin to make this field more welcoming and inclusive to both clinicians and clients of colors? What conversations can we be starting in our work and other communities? What can we pay more attention to?

LJ: This question reminds me of the remarks that one of the few people of color at my psychoanalytic institute said. She asked us to imagine what it was like for her when she came to the institute for the first time, walked into the main room, and found photos of our twelve founders on the wall. All white men and women. It concretized for her that she was going to be hyper-visible and pretty much alone in a white space.

While she was a candidate, some folks formed a “racism and homophobia task force.” They have put on some educational programs over the years, and they are sparsely attended. So, what this tells marginalized folks is that the institute is not willing to do its homework, not interested in doing the work of inclusiveness. When people wonder what they can do to make their groups more inclusive, I say, “Begin with self-study.” If that feels too difficult or time-consuming, then admit you don’t want to do the work, and just live with whatever guilt you might have about settling for what is easy.

I co-teach a now-required class on “diversity, power and privilege.” We have the candidates write a brief essay on contexts in which they are centrally socially-located and contexts in which they are marginalized. The essays are fascinating because it turns out most everyone has experiences of being “in” and being “marginalized.” That helps everyone get more interested in the complexity of all our contextual positions, and helps the candidates think more sensitively about the process of “othering.” This is another aspect of self-study.

In my gestalt institute, we have now set aside training scholarships for people of color, and that is bringing more diversity into our program. The faculty is all white, but that will change as people of color come up the ladder, I hope.

Anyway, you ask about conversations…the important conversations to start with, are conversations among white folk about what they need to learn, etc. Word will get around, if that starts to happen. Another thing is to do guest lectures at schools and colleges with people of color in them.

Since our demographics are changing so much, people of color are going to be more present in the lives of whites, and the more self-study you (whites) do, the easier you will find it, to have conversations about race and ethnicity.

CS: You mention shame and guilt in the title of your article. Can you speak a bit about how shame and guilt tend to show up in conversations about race and how they can be worked with?

LJ: Theses feelings show up often when someone of color points out the difference between their social position and the position of a white conversational partner. The white person can suddenly feel the wash of guilt and then shame. A more direct experience of shame happens when the white person is confronted because of racially insensitive remarks they have made. Then, what often happens. is the white person either slinks away in shame, or visibly collapses, and either tries to explain themselves, or beat themselves publicly with their badness. This is the fragility Di Angelo writes about.

I recommend that we white folks develop a different practice. First, don’t make the conversation about you! Your guilt and shame are better addressed elsewhere. What is needed at such a time, is simply a straightforward recognition of your insensitivity, and an apology, and if you don’t understand what you did, and then ask (with curiosity), so that you can learn something.

If you focus on your badness, your guilt, your shame, you are adding insult to the injury you already caused, and you are burdening the other, who now is feeling the pressure to take care of you.

I have developed a strategy. This may sound like cheating, but it isn’t. It is a useful tool. When I find myself being confronted about my insensitivity, or my hurtfulness, or a racist or prejudiced idea I have, I can feel the rush of guilt and shame. But I immediately dissociate a bit. I can feel myself separate my guilt and shame from the rest me. I tuck it away my back pocket, to be dealt with later, and it frees me to be genuinely interested in the exchange I am having.

This is the same thing I do when patients confront me. Whatever rising guilt or shame I feel gets tucked away for later so I can stay in the conversation. I hope this doesn’t sound too crazy. Because it does work. Then, when I get home, those miserable feelings come roaring back, and I try to learn from what happened, and I also try to explore how it is that I came to make the “mistakes” I made, I try to explore my ignorance, and explore how it is that I have been so ignorant. What am I not-seeing? Why? I do that exploration by myself, or with a trusted other white person.

CS: In your article you mention working with race and racializing your whiteness in your work with patients. Could you share an example of how you do that?

LJ: The more comfortable I become with “race talk” in generally, and amongst people of color and white folk, the easier it is to talk race with my patients, regardless of color. I bring it into the conversation pretty early. When working with a patient of color, I may be the first person who asks if what they are talking about as they describe a scene has anything to do with race, as in, “and was that critical boss an angry white person, by any chance?” Once I break the ice like that, race discussions can flow freely. When a patient of color hesitates in describing a race-based humiliating situation—getting stopped by cops, for instance—I look for signs that telling the story to a white therapist adds to the humiliation. I will often ask.

But let me provide something from my first article I ever wrote about working as a white therapist, because it shows my beginning awkwardness. The article is called, For Whites Only, and I included snippets throughout the article about my work with a black patient:

….

…. I found myself wondering why she had chosen to see me, a white therapist, rather than one of the many black therapists who practice in the LA area. I wondered if she knew of the availability of African-American therapists, if she purposely chose a white therapist, or if the fact of our race difference was unimportant to her. That last thought embarrassed me, confronting me with the reality of how her race WAS important to me, and I felt vaguely guilty, as though I ought not be having any awkwardness or discomfort, or to be thinking of her as, among other things, a “black” woman. I was being bitten by a common bug in our culturally diverse and racially divided country, and it is an element of the subjectivity of most white therapists. I call it white anxiety. I shall discuss it further at a later point.

“Many white therapists seem to suffer from the “white fragility” of which Robin Di Angelo writes. They feel personally insulted/assaulted by being asked to take a look at how whiteness functions in society (and therefore, in the consulting room). They take it personally rather than understanding that we are all caught up in whiteness, whether we like it or not.”

...At any rate, back to my story. You can see from what I have written, that I made the usual white background assumption that unless I picked up evidence to the contrary, the woman I was to meet would be white. Joyce is a sociologist with a particular interest in racial consciousness, and racial experiences in LA. When I did ask her, in our second meeting, if she had given any thought to finding an African-American therapist, she said that she had gotten my name from a colleague she trusted (a white sociologist whom I had seen for therapy a few years earlier), and the referral was more important to her than color. My question also seemed to raise her level of defensiveness slightly, and I knew that she was already quite embarrassed that she was seeking therapy in the first place, so I did not inquire further.

Several weeks passed and the therapy lurched along with few references to her race, and none to mine. She would occasionally mention a difficult interaction or situation, and in the process of exploration I sometimes asked her for the race of the person with whom she was struggling. She would appear relieved and identify the person as white. At that point we would explore the possibility that the difficulties arose in part as a result of the racial prejudices or ignorance of the other person. But I always had to initiate the race-based discussions.

I continued to be uneasy that we had not overtly acknowledged our racial difference. I could not see that she was uneasy, but I was. I became tangled in doubts of almost obsessive proportion. The doubts took my thoughts in various directions. I was reluctant to impose a figure into her process of talking about her own interests if that figure was an enactment of my anxiety. I wondered if perhaps I wanted to offer an African-American therapist so that she would leave and relieve me of my anxiety. Or, I wondered, perhaps I wanted the overt acknowledgment of our racial differences so that I could establish myself as different from “those other” whites. Then again, I wondered if perhaps I needed the acknowledgement of our racial difference because I was not as developed, in terms of my racial consciousness, as I thought I should be. On the other hand, I hoped that maybe, just maybe, such an acknowledgement might be helpful to Joyce, who might need me to take the initiative.

One of the striking “symptoms” of my anxious self-doubt is the harsh tone of self- doubt and self-criticism in them. This is a not uncommon experience for other whites who are racially sensitive. This may be a manifestation of white guilt, something I will address at a later point in the paper.

….

“I recommend that we white folks develop a different practice. First, don’t make the conversation about you! Your guilt and shame are better addressed elsewhere. What is needed at such a time, is simply a straightforward recognition of your insensitivity, and an apology, and if you don’t understand what you did, and then ask (with curiosity), so that you can learn something.”

One day Joyce started talking about the details of a study she was conducting. She mentioned that she always had to allow twice as long for interviews with white people than with other interviewees. She said it took the white interviewees an extra hour or so become comfortable enough with her to speak freely and openly. They had to overcome their anxiety over whether they would make a racial faux pas, and their worry of being harshly criticized by my patient. She said that the whites in her study lacked a vocabulary for addressing multi-cultural themes, whereas the other participants were highly articulate.

I was reminded, as she spoke, of my first few awkward sessions with her: my anxiety, confusion, twinge of self-conscious shame, not knowing how to acknowledge our racial difference, not knowing how much it “ought” to matter. I decided to tell her what I was thinking. I described the tangle of doubt and confusion I experienced in not knowing whether I was being more racist by mentioning race, or by not mentioning race. We both had a good laugh, and the atmosphere between us underwent a palpable change for the better. I believe that this was a signal to her that we could talk about the effects of racism on her life, but also, and perhaps more importantly for the development of our relationship, that we could also talk about my “whiteness”, and my racial consciousness, and how both of these factors influenced our work together. We have both been looser, freer with each other since then.

My point in sharing this, is to say, awkwardness may haunt you until you get more practice.

CS: What would you recommend to someone wanting to learn more about this topic and about themselves within the racist system? Any books, articles, podcasts, workshops, exercises you have found helpful?

LJ: There is so much good material now.

If you haven’t read Peggy McIntosh’s White Privilege: Unpacking the White Knapsack, it is a must.
Also DiAngelo’s White Fragility.
A terrific article online (originally in The Atlantic) by Ta-Nehisi Coates, called The Case for Reparations.
Also by Coates, Between the World and Me.
Kendi - How to Be an Antiracist.
There is a blog site called Medium. You can set it up to pick out articles on race.
A good, short video on what it means to be a white friend.
Another video featuring a poem entitled “Black Privilege”
A Poem for My White Friends: “I Didn’t Tell You”
You can find stuff I have written on being a white therapist by looking me up on Academia.edu. It is free!

Lynne Jacobs, Ph.D., lives in two psychotherapy worlds. She is co-founder of the Pacific Gestalt Institute and also a training and supervising analyst at the Institute of Contemporary Psychoanalysis-Los Angeles. She has written numerous articles for gestalt therapists and psychoanalytic therapists. She has a private practice and is involved with the Soldiers Project in Los Angeles.

Chelsea Small, MSW, is an Associate Clinical Social Worker, ASW #78503 working under the supervision of Saralyn Masselink, LCSW # 28617. Chelsea believes in the wisdom of the therapeutic relationship to ignite transformative growth. She has extensive experience working with people impacted by trauma, domestic violence, and the effects of emotional dysregulation.

Home: Gravy and Biscuits

November 29, 2019

This November, MHT is participating in the Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraising Drive. The money goes to programs that support refugee families that have been resettled in the United States. In tandem with these efforts, our clinicians are writing posts reflecting on what home means to them.

As I was reflecting back on what Home means to me, I continued to go back to memories of my mother cooking in the kitchen or teaching me how to make one of her specialty dishes. Homemade cooking was a very important thing to her as a Southern woman. This value has been passed down from generation to generation. Both my mother and grandmother (“mamaw”) take pride in their scratch cooking and believe in the merits of working hard to prepare a homemade meal. This value was passed down to me. Home to me means home-cooked meals. Home to me is waking up to the smell of homemade buttermilk biscuits and sausage being cooked for gravy.

One of my mother’s specialty dishes is her gravy and biscuits. This recipe has been passed on from my mamaw. What makes this dish so special is that it is made by hand and from memory. There is no recipe. My mother has always taken pride in her perfectly fluffy biscuits and creamy gravy. She has taught me over the years that the art of perfecting the biscuits is how you lightly handle the dough so that the it stays airy — this is what makes it fluffy. The trick with the gravy is to slowly stir until it is at its perfect consistency. Neither process can be rushed for it to turn out right.

Thinking back on this memory as a child, I think about how much the process of making gravy and biscuits is similar to therapy. If we rush the process of therapy we will not get the result we desire. It can take time to move through the process of understanding ourselves and to remember that taking our time and being mindful is important so that we don't miss an important ingredient.

“Both my mother and grandmother (“mamaw”) take pride in their scratch cooking and believe in the merits of working hard to prepare a homemade meal....Home to me is waking up to the smell of buttermilk biscuits and sausage being cooked for gravy. ”

HERE'S HOW YOU CAN PARTICIPATE IN FRIENDSGIVING WITH US:

Give! Visit our Miry’s List campaign page and make a donation. It's that simple and no sum is too small. Truly.

Follow! Be sure to follow us on Instagram and our blog throughout the month of November. We will be reflecting on what it means to be welcomed, received, and known.

Share! Help us spread the word. You can do this by sharing our social media posts or links to our Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraiser page.

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A little about Miry’s List:
Refugee families come to the United States seeking a safe haven from violence and persecution in their home countries. They leave behind family and friends, as well as virtually everything they own. Many Americans, seeing these families in their communities, wonder: What can I do to help? Miry's List provides a mechanism for people to directly help new arrival refugee families with the things that they need to get started in their new lives – from diapers to beds to cleaning supplies and toiletries. To learn more, visit miryslist.org.

Home: Family

November 28, 2019

“Home is where you find your heart, over and over again. Maybe in new ways, maybe in familiar ways, maybe in challenging ways…”

“Family” came to me most strongly as I first associated to the word “Home.” Recently, several family members and friends were evacuated from fires in the middle of the night in Los Angeles. Experiences like these have a way of heightening our senses and awareness and bringing crystal clarity to what we value, what we cherish, and what is most important.

Family has become the people in my life that I love, that support me, and who I support - the people that surround me; made up of blood relatives, friends, colleagues, and sometimes even an unexpected stranger where one of us meets the other and there’s a need or maybe a shared meaningful experience or a joy.

“Home is where the heart is” as the saying goes…I had a strong sense of home as a young child – very strong in fact. And for me home meant the physical home I lived in, my parents, my close neighbors, teacher, a few very close friends, school and our kitty furball at home.

Over time there were some big changes and my sense of home had to be expanded to new places, new people and other new loves. As much as I loved my first home, and wow, did I love it there! – the grass outside, the canyon with the blackberries, the sunshine, and sunken living room with the music playing…it needed the people, the community, and the belonging within context to really locate me as HOME.

It was again clear more than ever that home is where you find your heart, over and over again. Maybe in new ways, maybe in familiar ways, maybe in challenging ways…

I am blessed to have a location to reside – a place I can go that is safe to live and to call home. I have a container for the experiences of my life in my dwelling, and in the dwellings of those I call family. And these places root me and provide memories that root me as well, in the neighborhoods, the stores, the familiar sights, sounds, smells of the blooms as they come and go, the rain, and, of course, food - the associations I have learned though the day to day, week to week, year to year living.

Miry’s List has a specialness in its mission in that it looks at home in all the ways we as humans need to feel we are safe - to feel like we have a sense of belonging; located in space and time with people that care and that we care for as well. Miry’s List goes beyond the obvious to what we all know constitutes real home. HOME is where the heart is…and our heart is housed in a body in space and time with an intricate working system to support it, keeping it pumping happily, resiliently, and strongly.

“Miry’s List has a specialness in its mission in that it looks at home in all the ways we as humans need to feel we are safe - to feel like we have a sense of belonging; located in space and time with people that care and that we care for as well.”

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HERE'S HOW YOU CAN PARTICIPATE IN FRIENDSGIVING WITH US:

Give! Visit our Miry’s List campaign page and make a donation. It's that simple and no sum is too small. Truly.

Follow! Be sure to follow us on Instagram and our blog throughout the month of November. We will be reflecting on what it means to be welcomed, received, and known.

Share! Help us spread the word. You can do this by sharing our social media posts or links to our Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraiser page.

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Michelle Levy, PhD, is a Licensed Clinical Psychologist. Dr. Levy’s clinical interests focus on parenting practices, attachment, child mental health and developmental concerns as well as the effects of trauma on youth, families and communities.

Blog

Not a Bird: Finding Our Way with Acceptance

Radical Humility

The Resilience of a Long-Distance Runner: An Interview with Nadia Ruiz, Educator and Coach

Reflections on Belonging and Community during the COVID-19 Pandemic

Music, Empathy, and Humanness: An Interview with The Brilliance

With special appreciation to the musicians I have the gift of working with…

-Allie

Home: Gravy and Biscuits

Home: Family

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