Yeah. No. Not so much.
And I don't want to complain about all the stuff I'm juggling, because heck, I do enough of that already on this blog. However, this is mainly an art-focused blog (with some design, psychology, and philosophy thrown in), and as we've accepted, art's been scarce on my end, at least the public stuff.
So for those readers who haven't abandoned all hope of seeing new art from me or of reading something of interest on this blog, I kindly offer the last book I finished (this was for my psychopharmacology class, so it leans a lot towards the brain science side of psychotherapy): The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog
.It's difficult to read because of some gruesome details (this book is about maltreated and traumatized children's experiences, and what we learn from them), so be forewarned if you decide to pick it up.
On the other hand, it was an enlightening read. It gave me a clue to many of my own behaviors and choices in life, as well as the behaviors and choices of those around me (especially children).
In the field of psychotherapy, it's unfortunate that children are often treated as mandated clients ("forced into therapy"), with few rights to their own emotions, thoughts, or processes. It's as if psychotherapy is treated like a bitter medicine for them to swallow, whether in the form of boot camps or even well-meaning interventions that involve coercing children into feeling emotions or remembering memories they're not ready to feel or process.
Adults, although they can also be treated poorly by our profession, at least have a bit more power in most situations: they can stop therapy, fire the therapist, report unethical behavior, etc. That's if they're not court-mandated or pressured by family and friends to participate in therapy against their will.
And that's one of the keys in good therapy: participation. Seriously--can there even be therapy without it? And if there could, would it even be ethical?
When I've discussed this issue with other therapists and fellow interns/trainees, I've gotten the response that children need structure.
Sure, I wouldn't argue that. After all, we're mammals, and the nature of our young is that they're born immature and require parenting in order to grow, develop, and socialize properly (this is in the book).
The thing is, I think anybody coming into psychotherapy asks for structure: the length of the session, what's okay to express (any thoughts, feelings, internal experiences; not so much on the physical actions if they're hurtful), how to "do" therapy, etc.
I get that children and adults are different. Physiologically, neurologically, you name it. What I'm saying, though, is that no matter the difference, I treat everyone with respect.
Invite Beauty,
I.
.JPG)
2 comments:
"Children need structure?" What a strange response.
If you were to ask me what children need most from therapy, I'd answer, "Connection." Of course if you were to ask me what adults need most from therapy, I'd repeat the same answer. But that's my bias.
And your blog is most certainly not blah. I've loved its evolution, and how it parallels your own development, personal and professional. It documents your process--and I'm a sucker for a good documentary. And science fiction. Yeah, spaceships and aliens.
Wow, I digress.
You're absolutely right, and it's definitely a strange answer ("structure"), which speaks again to therapist agenda rather than client need.
Again and again people throw up their hands and say, "we don't know what works, but this feels right," when we know what works (common factors). The insistence on techniques and (superiority of their) theory accounts for 15% of what works, yet many therapists I've met so far insist on putting most of their energy here (instead of the 30% in the connection). You wouldn't be surprised by the myriad games and toys marketed to therapists, but laypeople would.
I'm glad you nailed it. I think that's where I was going with "respect." I was about building the connection/relationship, and respect is foundational; without it, the relationship is tenuous at best and antagonistic (as in, it hurts the client) at worst.
Ugh. Anyway. I feel much better, especially when it's obvious to the people I respect. It's an uphill battle here, but I imagine that's true anywhere I go--this profession is filled with theists and I feel like one of the few humanists out there!
Thanks for the feedback on my blog. Hm.
And the digression. :)
I.
Post a Comment