"Bold statements" & etc.

Warning: The following blog entry is chock full o' self-righteousness and smug commentary. More than usual, that is.

Today, I gave a rather lackluster presentation in my Ethics class. It wasn't my fault that it was lackluster; it was the material. "Chapter 4: Client Rights and Counselor Responsibilities" was basically an introduction to the rest of the ethics textbook. A bit of a yawner.

Even so, my presentation was better than that of the student who came next and distilled -- a word I use loosely -- the contents of a chapter about domestic violence from the ethics textbook used by the Marriage & Family Therapy students in my class. (It's a funky situation to have half of the class using one text and half using another.)

I can't imagine she "distilled" all that much. More like she may have reguritated the entire chapter into a PowerPoint. Each slide was CRAMMED with words, and she read us most of them. We were assigned to do a 10- to 15-minute presentation, and hers went on in excess of 35 minutes. I learned a lot, but still....

Sometimes, the less you say, the better.

And it's that note upon which I make the following statements:

First, S2 unwittingly reminded me this afternoon of why I trust her so much. She did so mainly by not reporting to me what some third party said a while back until today when it was both meaningful and meaningless to do so. S2 possesses both wisdom and integrity, and I don't think there are traits for which I hold greater admiration, particularly in combination. She's also a rather loving spirit, but that is more of a side note when it comes to today's matter.

What she shared with me this afternoon would've have answered a question I had a week or two ago, but it was today that I had the ability to hear it without feeling provoked.

So it's not just a matter of saying less being better; timing is everything.

Second, after class tonight, I went to a bar with some friends and classmates from school. I had a burger and three Guiness stouts. For whatever reason, beer does not get me intoxicated, but all forms of alcohol loosen my tongue a little. Which can make me a) bold, b) brazen, c) funny and/or d) obnoxious. More so than usual, that is.

Tonight, one of my colleagues said several times, "UCM, that is a BOLD statement." Plus, "When you sprinkle it with 'fuck,' it's even *more* bold."

(He only thinks this in part because he missed the conversation Rather Shy Classmate and I were having about what services are typically provided by a professional dominatrix -- not to mention, what the plural for dominatrix is. I suggested the simple: "dommes".)

But I digress. As usual.

Here is my bold statement: You've got no business being a therapist if you haven't been to therapy yourself.

I fail to see how that is Earth-shattering in any way. In my reality, that is a simple statement of fact. I equate it to the notion of expecting to drive a car when you've never even been a passenger and haven't had the chance to see someone else do it.

Nevertheless, my "bold statement" took over the table, and a vigorous discussion ensued. Two of the five sitting there remained silent, and I kept wondering why. The other two were carrying on: one arguing in accordance with me, the other in opposition. Periodically, we all shifted place and took the middle road. That would be our tendency -- as many counselor types are wont to do -- to build consensus.

I will say this, and I will say it frankly: I find it hard to comprehend why anyone would even *think* of being a therapist if they had not, at least at some point, had an experience with it. Even if that counseling came from a priest or school counselor or youth pastor. Even if it was a very brief thing.

I'm not talking about years on the couch here. I'm not insisting *anyone* requires the kind of psychotherapy to which I have subjected myself over the years (sometimes in a rather self-indulgent manner, I should add). I'm not saying you need the guy with the cigar or pipe who wears a cardigan in summer or, worse, a bow tie all the year-round. I'm not saying you need a hundred hours of "mmm-hmmm" and "Tell me more about your mother."

But I *am* saying: If you haven't been "on the couch," if you haven't looked at yourself and perhaps found a few dark corners you didn't realize you had, if you haven't taken the risk to divulge something previously unspoken or at least had a real discussion with a therapist about your various and sundry imperfections, then what the fuck do you know about therapy?

How can you empathize with the client's experience of what it's like to sit in that chair and start telling a total stranger something highly personal?

Granted, we do not need to have every experience our clients have had to feel empathy with them. I will conceed that.

But to those who disagree that a therapist *ought* to have had personal experience as a therapy client or who have only deigned to undergo therapy as a requirement of our graduate program, I want to ask this: How do you figure it's OK to ask other people to subject themselves to something you wouldn't voluntarily do yourself?

Do you think therapy is only for "defective" people? Do you think your clients will be coming to you to get "fixed"? (It's one thing for the client to think that's the purpose; it's a wholly different thing for the therapist to have that attitude.)

I mean: Seriously. What gives?

In a small-group discussion in my Ethics class tonight, I listened to two of my classmates talk about how they needed to fulfill the requirement my graduate program has that we receive at least 10 hours of personal counseling. One said he was meeting the requirement by going to couples therapy with his partner. Fair enough. But my jaw about dropped when the other replied that she should do the same because "that's the only way I'm going to get something out of it. Individual therapy wouldn't do *anything* for me." (And she's planning to counsel individuals!)

I have to say, however, that this woman strikes me as so *hard* and seems so aggressively dismissive in her persona that I'm not surprised to hear she's never been to therapy. But I still am floored by the attitude.

After all, why go to graduate school, pay all the tuition, buy all the books, go through the internship and set your ship to sailing in the low-wage non-profit ghetto that is community counseling if you don't believe in the fundamental worthiness of the work? And if you would argue that you *do* believe in it, WHY NOT FOR YOU? What makes you above it?

And lord have mercy, WHY can't you see that if you think you're all that far above it, that it wouldn't help *you,* that *you* don't have anything to learn from it ... oh man, talk about a BLIND SPOT! It means you *need* it, honey.

I suggested to my friends at the bar: By having our own experience with therapy, we have the opportunity both to learn more about ourselves *and* to learn, if nothing else, what it feels like to be the client. Clients deserve to have a counselor who has done his or her own personal work, tried to narrow his or her own blind spots and who knows from personal experience that it's not easy to walk in and spill your problems to a stranger. (Just because it may be easier to talk to a stranger than to someone important to you doesn't make it fundamentally "easy.")

If we lack self-awareness and we lack an understanding of the client's experience, I fail to see how we can provide adequate services. Rather, I think we would be providing a disservice. Important to note: Clients deserve more than "adequate." They deserve "good." They are incredibly fortunate when they get "great."

My professor recounted tonight the story of her first client, and I found myself wondering how that experience would be for me.

I shuddered to think of the client asking, "Do you have much experience?" and me replying cheerfully, You're my first! I cannot imagine also adding: And you know, I've only spent 10 hours on the couch myself. So this is new for both of us! Care for a cup of tea?

Gag! Just fucking gag me.

I have said more than enough.