Tag Archives: Counselors Audience

Counselors Audience

Spirituality in a church-based counseling program

By Jane S. Joyce October 11, 2017

As a counselor in a group supported by a church, I regularly encounter clients who want to discuss spirituality, or who even want spiritual guidance, assuming that because the counseling department is located within the church building, all the counselors are equipped to be spiritual leaders.

The situation can cause ethical concerns, especially considering Standard A.4.b. of the 2014 ACA Code of Ethics: “Counselors are aware of — and avoid imposing — their own values, attitudes, beliefs and behaviors.” The struggle emerges when clients want to discuss spirituality. Although I wish to stay clear of this topic, it can be misinterpreted as my being uninterested or avoiding the topic, which can lead the client to feel disrespected or unimportant. At the very least, the scenario is challenging.

The role of a counselor becomes blurred if too much emphasis is placed on spirituality; in the client’s eyes, the representation of the counselor’s job changes. For instance, the use of prayer can be risky, perhaps setting the counselor up as an “expert” in addressing God and conveying personal beliefs in the wording or delivery. There may be drastically differing belief systems between the counselor and the client, which could potentially damage the relationship. How can I address this situation so that the client’s beliefs and values are respected, while at the same time I follow my ethical code?

In his book Spiritual Practices in Psychotherapy: Thirteen Tools for Enhancing Spiritual Health (2009), Thomas Plante gives some very thoughtful suggestions on using spirituality in one’s practice. I have listed them here, followed by my personal experience of working with them in my practice.

 

1) Become aware of your cultural competencies.

I have learned not to be afraid to admit when I am unfamiliar with a client’s belief system. As with all clients, I strive to be respectful and sensitive to them and make notes to guide myself in learning more. Research, research, research: The internet is a treasure trove of information. Take advantage of programs offered by different faiths and different cultures. For instance, in a larger neighboring city, several annual festivals are held that highlight Native American, Hispanic, Asian and Greek cultures. Food, ritual, and crafts abound, and the experience lessens anxieties when working with other races.

In my graduate multicultural course, I was required to experience a different cultural setting. I attended the Hispanic mass at a Roman Catholic church. The mass was in English and Spanish, but the hymns were all Spanish. A little boy helped me sing by pointing to the words as they came up. It was a warm and uplifting evening, showing the importance of faith and family and giving me a new picture of that culture.

 

2) Take advantage of available resources and programs to increase your knowledge base.

Although I may be a church-based counselor, my job is not to promote my own belief system but rather to be available to hurting people. Learning about these clients’ cultures and beliefs assists me in becoming a better counselor. I mentioned some ways to connect in the previous paragraph, and looking for more opportunities around your area can be a fun way to expand your family’s knowledge too.

 

3) Consider religion to be like any other type of diversity.

Removing the emotion that can be attached to religion frees me to see it as just another facet of the client, just like race or sex. In fact, it can help me form a more objective view of the client’s total perspective. The ACA Code of Ethics emphasizes the need for counselors to honor diversity and adopt a multicultural approach to treating clients. Spirituality is a part of that diversity.

 

4) Consult colleagues.

I am fortunate to have three other counselors who are available for “brainstorming” sessions, and I receive differing viewpoints and possible approaches from them. Additionally, the American Counseling Association offers a wealth of resources on its website (counseling.org) that can guide counselors in learning more about multicultural counseling.

At times, the questions raised by clients are above my expertise. For example, one client questioned why she had not been given the desires of her heart when the Bible plainly states they will be granted. With her consent, I emailed the senior pastor and asked for his guidance. His answer was considerate and timely and gave her comfort in the situation.

Additionally, my mentor has a degree in theology, in addition to his counseling degree, and is always available for my queries. Clients appreciate that I will go the extra mile in exploring a matter that has so much importance for them and that I consult with reliable sources. It enhances the counseling relationship.

At times, the problem is deciding whether spirituality works in the treatment plan designed for a client. In his article, “A Qualitative Exploration Into How the Use of Prayer in Counseling and Psychotherapy Might be Ethically Problematic” (2009), Peter Madsen Gubi presented four words that can assist in deciding whether to include spirituality. He refers to it as EBQT, an easy way to remember his guide.

Evidence: Does enough quality evidence exist to support a spiritual adjunct to therapy? For me, this would be the amount of importance the client attaches to his or her spirituality and beliefs. Another decision-making took is determining whether the presenting problem includes a struggle with spirituality, which happens quite frequently in the church setting.

Belief: Is there congruence between the client’s beliefs, the counselor’s beliefs and the relevance of therapy? I see this as meaning do we both agree on the necessity of inclusion, and does respect exist for differing viewpoints? This is where knowledge and respect come into play. I must examine my own beliefs and biases to provide the best care for my client.

Quality: Will this improve the quality of care for the client? Does it enhance or detract? Will it derail what has been accomplished? Will it derail where counseling is supposed to take the client to accomplish his or her goals? I must be brutally honest on this point and be sensitive to where the client leads, not where I want to go.

Time: Can the component of spirituality be addressed in the time constraints of the session, with respect to the client? My sessions are 50 minutes in length. At times, addressing a spiritual problem can take the whole session, or a session might even have to be ended before crucial questions are addressed. I don’t have the luxury of allowing the session to run over because of other scheduled clients. This can be a real concern.

One last consideration does not apply to me but may to other people. Addressing components of spirituality can be tricky when dealing with third-party payers (insurance) because, generally, it is not reimbursable. We do not accept insurance at my church, but many other church-based counseling groups do. The treatment plan must be grounded in applicable theory, with goal-oriented, measurable results, to be reimbursed by insurance. Spirituality may be mentioned, but other treatment options must be included in filing claims. This is another time when consultation with peers is most helpful. Experience is the best teacher.

These recommendations have served me well for the past three years of practice. They have kept me on target and allowed me to provide the highest-quality attention to my clients’ needs without the input of my own beliefs. By following these shared techniques, it is my hope that your own practice will be strengthened and improved.

 

****

 

Jane Joyce is a licensed professional counselor and doctoral candidate at Carson-Newman University in Tennessee. She is a counselor with LifeSource Counseling, First Baptist Church, Morristown, and an assistant to Dr. William Blevins at the Blevins Institute for Spiritual and Mental Health of Carson-Newman. She retired in 2014 from the Tennessee State Board of Probation and Parole after 25 years and began her second career. Contact her at jsjoyce@charter.net.

 

****

 

Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

Counseling survivors of human trafficking

By Lamerial McRae and Letitia Browne-James October 9, 2017

Millions of human trafficking victims exist across the globe. In the United States, hundreds of thousands of victims experience trafficking. As society expands and evolves, human trafficking perpetrators find new ways to recruit and victimize others. The evolution of perpetration ensues because of increases in accessing technology, shifting state and federal laws, and changing criminal investigation methods within communities. Human trafficking continues to evolve into a new way of enslaving human beings, stripping individuals of basic rights and freedoms, while skirting the legal issues of slavery and ownership.

Human traffickers often recruit individuals by offering the fantasy of increased happiness, stability, relationship success and financial freedom. Human traffickers, often referred to as “pimps” or “playboys,” may recruit a female or male victim with promises of a better quality of life, including, but not limited to money, security and safe shelter. These perpetrators often present as charming and recruit their victims using lies and manipulation. They prey on victims from vulnerable populations, including those with low socioeconomic status (SES), biological females, children and adolescents, immigrants and LGBTQ+ youth. The fact that these vulnerable populations often remain dependent on others or experience institutionalized marginalization allows for perpetrators to paint the picture of a better life, both in terms of finance and social support. Thus, counselors must understand the cycle of perpetration and victimization to pinpoint potential victims among clients.

As a starting point, counselors must understand the nature of the phenomenon and seek ways to identify potential risk and protective factors. Counselors must learn to assess and address possible victimization with effective rapport building and intervention. For example, youth may display delinquent behavior (e.g., truancy, sexual misconduct, drug use) as a symptom of coercion and threats by a perpetrator. Perpetrators often experience greater ease when recruiting teenagers because of their tendency to be influenced by others. Sadly, when teenagers fall victim to a human trafficker, they are subjected to the victim-blaming phenomenon.

Thus, to build therapeutic rapport from a nonjudgmental framework, counselors need to understand the true source of teenagers’ behavior rather than labeling them as inappropriate or delinquent. As counselors increase their understanding of risk and protective factors, the profession may be able to conceptualize human trafficking as a systemic problem from a broad perspective.

 

Risk and protective factors

Several risk and protective factors exist for those falling victim to human trafficking. Risk factors include the following demographics and experiences. Risk factors, which are not limited to the list provided, may change over time with the help of counselors.

  • Low SES
  • Previous or current substance abuse
  • Social vulnerability (e.g., children, females, LGBTQ+ individuals)
  • Limited education.

Protective factors, referred to as strengths in counseling, include the following demographics and experiences. Counselors must foster protective factors and strengths in clients to reduce the risk of falling victim to trafficking.

  • Education
  • Family stability
  • Strong social support networks
  • Mental and emotional health

Counselors should understand these risk and protective factors to assess potential risks for human trafficking and to focus on increasing protective factors in counseling. For example, counselors may use a family counseling approach when working with survivors to increase their connections to loved ones and family. Throughout the process of recruiting and selling human trafficking victims, counselors may notice several risk and protective factors playing a role in the process.

 

Human trafficking business model and counseling implications

Human trafficking remains a mysterious and misunderstood phenomenon. Because of a lack of understanding about the effects of human trafficking on our society, counselors are charged with educating themselves to best address and assess individuals for victimization.

Counselors should recognize that survivors of sex trafficking require additional techniques (to those used with other clients) to build rapport with them and to reduce the mistrust that they commonly have about people. To best serve survivors, treatment approaches need to remain centered on survivors, empower them, provide safety and involve a multidisciplinary approach. In addition, professional counselors working extensively with sex trafficking survivors hold legal and ethical responsibilities to provide appropriate services and identify strategies to overcome barriers to their treatment, including specialized and intensive training.

To begin, counselors must understand the human trafficking business model to conceptualize the systemic issue and the moving parts that contribute to the continuing cycle. To highlight some of the societal and professional impacts, consider the parallel of the human trafficking business model to the process of manufacturing goods. The human trafficking business model includes the following stages of grooming and distribution:

1) The supplier recruits the victim.

2) The manufacturer grooms the victim.

3) The retailer determines price and then markets the victim.

4) The retailer sells and the consumer purchases the victim.

The human trafficking business model is a sophisticated process, not always linear in nature, and it functions as a well-established industry. Thus, the need exists to explore each of the model to better understand how to help victims and break the cycle.

Stage 1: Supplying victims. The supplier, also known as the initial human trafficking perpetrator, displays high levels of mental health concerns (e.g., antisocial personality traits) and shows little concern for the basic human rights of others. When victims enter this stage, counselors may find that these individuals report troubles at home, low SES, depression, anxiety and truant behavior. These factors contribute to their need to survive. Unfortunately, this may result in a perpetrator using charm or manipulation to attract the victims. Perpetrators remove victims’ identification, passports and other valuables to trap them in the world of human trafficking.

Clinical assessment is vital at this stage and remains an ongoing process. Counselors may want to ease survivors into telling their stories, paying special attention to the therapeutic relationship. Thus, the most valuable interventions at this stage include active listening and reflection. When administering specific assessment instruments, counselors will want to measure attitudes about victimization and perpetration and prevalence rates of violence. Counselors must use both open- and closed-ended questions to directly address potential victimization. Nonverbally, counselors will want to avoid direct eye contact and limit their use of touch because of victims’ trauma and abuse history.

Stage 2: Grooming victims. This stage involves moving human trafficking victims from the supplier to the manufacturer. Perpetrators continue to display high levels of antisocial behaviors and major mental health concerns; survivors present with mental health concerns such as depression, anxiety and addiction. Substance abuse concerns usually present when perpetrators force their victims to engage in substance use to coerce and control their behaviors, often resulting in addiction.

Counselors must use clinical assessment and maintain that ongoing process. In addition, because survivors have been manufactured as a human trafficking product, their levels of abuse and mistrust often appear high when they present to counseling. Therefore, counselors must focus on the therapeutic relationship as victims provide information about their experiences in trafficking. Counselors should pay special attention to reducing the stigma of substance use and mental health concerns, especially considering that victims develop these concerns because of coercion and violence.

Stage 3: Marketing victims. This stage involves moving survivors from the manufacturer to the retailer. At this stage, human trafficking perpetrators focus on the marketing and sales aspect of their exploitation. For example, based on the quality of their goods (i.e., victim age, appearance) and market demand, perpetrators determine the price for selling each of their victims. At this stage, survivors present with major depressive, dissociative and addiction disorders.

At this stage, counselors again use clinical assessment to understand the survivor’s story while maintaining a trustworthy therapeutic relationship. As previously stated, severe mental health concerns present because of the violence and abuse that victims experience. Thus, counselors need to use evidenced-based practices to treat depression and dissociative symptoms. Some of the most helpful interventions to treat these mental health concerns include grounding and relaxation techniques.

When focusing on grounding, counselors must engage the client’s physical world to assist the person in becoming present in the moment. For example, counselors may ask clients to locate an object in the room and provide an in-depth description. Relaxation techniques to practice include deep breathing and mindfulness meditation. Both types of techniques allow clients to practice coping skills during sessions that can translate to their everyday life experiences.

Stage 4: Selling victims. As retailers push survivors toward the consumers, the perpetrators continue to focus on marketing strategies and targeting potential consumers. Perpetrators often target large events (e.g., the Super Bowl, national political conventions) to take advantage of the crowds and high demand for paid sexual services. Those paying for the sex services, the consumers, exhibit low levels of depression and anxiety. These consumers often report avoiding relationship concerns or other mental health concerns, resulting in a desire to seek out sexual activity.

Because survivors have been a part of ongoing abuse and a cycle of victimization that they cannot break, counselors must use a systemic approach to providing services. For example, counselors need to provide information on shelters and building connections with family. Counselors may incorporate the use of technology and location services, safety words and discussing location with loved ones at all times.

 

Case example         

Toney, an 18-year-old multiracial, cisgender male, moved away from his caregivers’ home about one year ago and currently lives with a friend. He moved because of safety issues in his home and within the nearby neighborhood. When Toney was 16, his father died during a gang-related shootout at their home. Thus, Toney often felt afraid of engaging in a similar lifestyle and enduring similar consequences. Toney’s mother suffered from a severe substance use disorder that led to eviction from their rental home because she could not afford the rent. Toney and his mother became homeless.

While Toney was homeless, Kevin, a childhood friend, suggested that Toney come live with him temporarily as long as Toney obtained a job and contributed to the rent and utility bills. One day, Toney answered the front door, and a young adult male appearing to be about Toney’s age attempted to sell him a magazine subscription. Toney disclosed to the salesman that he was financially strapped. The young man told Toney about the large sums of money he made while selling magazine subscriptions and offered to put him in contact with the owner. Toney was intrigued by the idea of alleviating his financial troubles, and the young male immediately scheduled a meeting with the owner for later that night.

That evening, Toney met with the young salesman and the business owner in an abandoned parking lot, bought their sales pitch and decided to go to work. The business owner told Toney that he would need to move six hours away to another state because there was a high demand for work there and he would not have to pay any rent or utility bills. The business owner promised Toney the opportunity to travel and see many areas of the country while working in the job.

Thus, Toney left a day later to live in a weekly hotel in a new city with his new manager and several others. Upon arriving, the manager took them to a warehouse to pick up the product. They all began working the next day.

After a few weeks, Toney began grasping the reality of his situation. The job of trying to sell magazine subscriptions was strenuous and exhausting. He often worked 10- to 12-hour days while receiving limited rest and food. When Toney voiced concerns about the number of work hours he put in each day, his manager threatened him. The threats later escalated to physical assault when Toney again voiced his concern and when the manager perceived him to be underperforming at the job.

No matter how hard Toney tried, he could not meet the daily sales goal that the manager set for employees. When Toney failed to meet the daily sales quota, the manager either denied him his nightly meal or forced him to sleep outside of the hotel on the streets. As a result, Toney rarely ate and often did not receive the money he had earned while working. He was told that he would receive the money once the team had completed its sales goals for the area and had moved on to another city.

One day, while trying to sell magazines to a homeowner who declined to buy anything, Toney became agitated and started crying. He told the homeowner that he was in trouble and begged her to help him get home, across state lines. The homeowner had recently watched a documentary on human trafficking and invited Toney to use her phone to call the authorities.

The police arrived and took Toney’s statement about his work experiences. Fortunately, the responding officer had recently attended a departmental training on human trafficking, and she took Toney to the police station for further questioning and support. The officer connected Toney with a local nonprofit organization that provided multidisciplinary services, including professional counseling, to survivors of human trafficking. The organization offered shelter and provided Toney with career development services to help him obtain legitimate work. The shelter’s ultimate goal was to move Toney back to his hometown.

In counseling sessions with Toney, the counselor focused on direct questions to assess the nature of the human trafficking Toney had experienced. For example, “Did anyone threaten you or your loved ones?” and “Did you have difficulty leaving the work that you did selling door-to-door merchandise?” While initially reluctant, Toney eventually responded with answers that indicated his victimization. For example, he reported that his manager used threats and power and control tactics (such as denying Toney food, money and shelter) to force him to work.

Following assessment, Toney received counseling services focused on recovering from the abuse he had endured. Toney felt validated because he was not alone while accepting that he had fallen victim to human trafficking. The counselor and Toney focused on crisis intervention and stabilization in the beginning, which included discussions about adjunct services and basic needs assessments (e.g., food and clothing, job obtainment). Next, the counselor and Toney addressed the trauma, focusing on decreasing anxiety-provoking cues and scaffolding into addressing more severe cues and triggers. All the while, Toney and the counselor developed several grounding and relaxation techniques to use both in their sessions and in Toney’s real-world experiences.

One of the most valuable grounding techniques made use of a rock that Toney could hold whenever he felt distressed. The counselor taught Toney how to become present, while holding the rock, through discussions about the texture, shape and weight of the rock. Discussing these tactile experiences allowed Toney to focus on the here-and-now rather than attempting to escape feelings and thoughts.

Toney and the counselor also used a breathing method in which Toney would take a deep breath through his nostrils for at least three seconds and exhale through his mouth for three seconds. They determined that he needed to take at least three deep breaths during the exercise so that he could calm down.

In the final stages of counseling, Toney and the counselor developed an action plan to help him avoid falling victim to trafficking. That does not mean, however, that Toney took responsibility for the actions of others. Toney and the counselor reviewed the different needs he may have and how to meet those needs in a helpful manner.

While focusing on the trauma from human trafficking victimization, the counselor worked with Toney on obtaining a job at a local fast food restaurant. They chose this restaurant so that he could easily transfer to another store in his hometown once he felt comfortable with the transition. After three months, Toney finally returned home and moved back in with his friend, Kevin. He remained employed as a fast food line cook and began seeking education at a local culinary institute.

 

 

****

Lamerial McRae is an assistant professor at Stetson University and a licensed mental health counselor in Florida. Her research and clinical interests include counselor identity development and gatekeeping; adult and child survivors of trauma, abuse and intimate partner violence; marriages, couples and families; LGBTQ issues in counseling and human trafficking. Contact her at ljacobso@stetson.edu.

Letitia Browne-James is a licensed mental health counselor, clinical supervisor and national certified counselor. She is a clinical manager at a large behavioral health agency in Central Florida and is in the final year of her doctoral program at Walden University, where she is pursuing a degree in counselor education and supervision with a specialization in counseling and social change. She has presented at professional counseling conferences nationally and internationally on various topics, including human trafficking.

 

****

 

Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

 

The fragility of freedom

By Carl Sheperis and Franzi Walsh October 4, 2017

With more than 2.2 million Americans behind bars, there are more citizens incarcerated in the United States than in any other country in the world, according to the U.S. Bureau of Justice Statistics. The United States can also lay claim to the highest rate of recidivism. According to a Department of Justice study, a staggering 76.6 percent of released inmates are rearrested within five years. A lack of basic literacy skills and job training is part of the issue, but it is equally important that we begin to understand how imprisonment behaviorally and psychologically conditions individuals to perpetuate the cycle. It is a problem that is forcing lawmakers, think tanks and the public at large to rethink our nation’s current approach to incarceration and rehabilitation.

As educators in the social sciences and criminal justice, we recognize that education and vocational job training are crucial first steps to addressing rates of recidivism. A study by Rand Corporation, a nonprofit research organization, found that inmates who participated in correctional education programs were 43 percent less likely to return to prison than were those who did not participate. Furthermore, those same individuals were 28 percent more likely to find employment upon release. These findings clearly suggest that those who are more prepared to tackle the challenges associated with the world post-prison are less likely to resort to criminal actions to achieve basic means.

However, when we talk about recidivism, there are issues and solutions that lie far beneath the surface, often entrenched deep within the psyche of former inmates. Simply put, we cannot overlook the psychological and sociological effects of imprisonment, including the barriers to achievement that they cause. From a mental health perspective, it is important to recognize that individuals who are transitioning from incarceration require support to be successful once they leave the prison system.

Many individuals involved in the criminal justice system have multiple mental health and substance abuse issues. In fact, the National Comorbidity Survey Replication demonstrated that strong relationships exist among mental health, substance abuse and history of incarceration. Based on research conducted by Jason Schnittker, Michael Massoglia and Christopher Uggen in 2012, the majority of common disorders documented among former inmates could be traced back to childhood, before involvement in the criminal justice system. Their research showed that mood disorders, substance abuse and impulse control disorders had strong relationships with various patterns of involvement in the justice system.

In 2014, research by Amy Blank Wilson, Jeffrey Draine, Stacey Barrenger, Trevor Hadley and Arthur Evans found that those individuals with comorbid mental health disorders had a 40 percent higher rate of recidivism in comparison with other offenders. In their study, more than 50 percent of the sample had at least one documented readmission to incarceration within three years. Clearly, problems with mental health act as a barrier to successful transition to the community for ex-offenders, and there is a need to develop more comprehensive support services for these individuals.

Incarceration also leaves little room for asserting personal responsibility, with basic functions such as eating, bathing, exercising and socializing largely outside of inmates’ control. Rigid programming has such a strong psychological effect on inmates that, once they are released, individual freedom often feels foreign or overwhelming. When combined with the additional stress of managing symptoms of mental health, the transition process becomes even more problematic.

Schnittker, Massoglia and Uggen demonstrated that there is a significantly higher relationship between mood disorders and subsequent disability after incarceration than what exists among the general U.S. population. This means that when offenders with mental health issues are released from the criminal justice system and left to create their own paths, it is likely that they will have extreme difficulty making successful transitions.

Counselors and support personnel can help break the cycle

Because mental health has been shown to have prominent comorbidity with incarceration, and because recidivism can be predicted for those with mental health issues, counselors who take an active role in addressing the needs of these individuals as they transition back to the community have the opportunity to make a significant impact. That impact extends beyond the ex-offender to the individual’s family, community and generations to come.

To create real change in the criminal justice system, all offenders — regardless of their history of mental health or substance use issues — need additional support to break a cycle that perpetuates their involvement. Offenders are considered a vulnerable population and should receive support in a manner that is commensurate with other vulnerable populations. Successfully addressing the complex needs of offenders requires a wraparound approach that is multidisciplinary and multifaceted, and counseling is an important element in the spectrum of needed services. Professional counselors experienced in addressing the unique needs of individuals who have been incarcerated can help to break down psychological barriers to achievement through the use of cognitive restructuring, motivational interviewing and other evidence-based approaches. Specifically, counselors can help relieve the stagnation in which many prisoners find themselves trapped. This can be done in part by offering education about appropriate decision-making and general life skills.

Counseling is certainly an important facet of reintegration, but we believe that an array of social and human services support personnel must be in place to help make this process successful. Probation and parole officers monitor the transition process, but there should also be individuals who can provide support for the social, emotional, medical, educational, occupational and recreational needs of those transitioning from incarceration back into the greater community. This multidisciplinary group of professionals must work together to create change for the individual and for the overall system. They must provide effective treatment and serve to advocate for change.

Advocacy and change can begin with small steps. Through past experiences, we have found that labeling someone a criminal can become too easily generalized. We often think of a prisoner as a lawbreaker first, rather than as an individual who has broken a law. The key difference is the articulation of the individual, which encompasses an entire life that led to the moment a crime was committed — and, similarly, extends to the quality and achievement of life upon release. As a society, we have moved toward person-first language for special populations. It is now time to include offenders in the category of special populations and to drive change through the ways in which we talk about offenders.

Addressing the shortage of mental health professionals

Although the need is strong for counseling and human service support for ex-offenders, the fact is that a shortage exists of personnel available to provide these services. According to the U.S. Health Resources and Services Administration, there are nearly 4,500 shortage areas for mental health services throughout the United States, and there is no identified time frame for these shortage designations to be removed.

The shortage of trained professionals is daunting, and it becomes even more problematic when examining the need for specialized providers such as those who have experience addressing the needs of offenders. As educators, we believe one of the crucial elements of our role is to prepare students to meet the needs of our communities. We also believe that we must educate students to consider perspectives that challenge stigmas and help promote positive change.

Because there is such a shortage of counselors who specialize in working with offenders, the process of filling this gap must begin in the educational realm. Addressing the workforce gap can also be done through the development of bachelor’s-level programs in psychology, social work and human services that have specific tracks dedicated to the support of the offender population. In addition to helping meet a population need, programs of this nature would serve as natural bridges for undergraduates to pursue graduate degrees in counseling or similar helping professions.

Counselor educators can change the conversation

One way to change the conversation is through formal education. Standard F.7.c. of the ACA Code of Ethics requires counselor educators to take an active role in educating students about diversity. Because offenders are considered a vulnerable population, it is important for counselor educators to include this population as part of the knowledge base for counselors-in-training. Counselor educators can also make concerted efforts to develop field placement relationships with the criminal justice system and community agencies that serve offenders.

Changes to the way that we serve the offender population ultimately will be driven by the strength of voices among practicing counselors and other helping professionals. As stated in Standard A.7.a. of the ACA Code of Ethics, “When appropriate, counselors advocate at individual, group, institutional and societal levels to address potential barriers and obstacles that inhibit access and/or the growth and development of clients.” It is an ethical imperative for counselors who work with offenders to engage in individualized efforts to advocate for the elements needed to help their clients make successful transitions. Each individual effort is important and creates momentum toward greater social change.

Although we take small individualized steps toward a new process, we also must keep our eyes on greater systemic change. Rehabilitation is a matter of systems, encompassing the criminal justice system, the parole system, the mental health system, the human services support system, the employment sector and the broader community. Those experiences directly following imprisonment often have the greatest impact on an individual’s success in transitioning back into the community. We can begin tackling this issue seriously if we combine training and education with a renewed focus on the psychology of both imprisonment and freedom, working as one to promote transformation even for those individuals for whom we might have thought it impossible.

Summary recommendations

Social change is a process that unfolds over time, but it begins with recognition of a disparity. This leads to grassroots efforts to develop a movement that will create sustainable change. At the University of Phoenix, we have taken a step toward addressing these issues by creating a bachelor’s degree in correctional program support services to train individuals to help offenders be successful during and after transitioning back into the community. We have also worked to collaborate across our colleges of social sciences and criminal justice to develop multiple projects that address the broad needs of offenders. These small efforts are just one step in creating broader change. We invite readers to join the effort and to develop their own small steps.

Here are some suggestions for beginning the advocacy and change process:

  • Become an informed counselor by exploring the research on mental health, substance abuse and incarceration.
  • Examine the organizations in your community that serve the offender population, and develop a relationship with providers in that network.
  • Look for opportunities to advocate for system change at the local, state and national levels. Contact your state counseling association or the American Counseling Association to determine any ongoing initiatives that you can support.
  • Obtain additional training in evidence-based practices that have been effective with the offender population.
  • Counselor education programs can consider developing specialty courses or specialized field experiences related to the offender population.
  • Counselor educators can develop cross-disciplinary relationships that help to promote greater understanding of the needs of offenders transitioning back into the community.
  • Counselors can develop relationships with legislators and local officials.
  • Join organizations such as the International Association of Addictions and Offender Counselors, a division of ACA.
  •  Join a professional network of colleagues who have an interest in serving the offender population.
  • Look for opportunities to educate and encourage the conversation about system change in your home community. Raising awareness is one key to successful change.

Conclusion

The research and literature have clearly demonstrated that:

  • Offenders are a vulnerable population
  • Many offenders have mental health and substance abuse disorders
  • Those offenders with comorbid mental health issues have a 40 percent higher rate of recidivism than other offenders
  • Offenders — regardless of mental health history — face incredible barriers in their transition back into society

Our hope is that as a result of reading this article, more counselors will feel empowered to address these issues and advocate on behalf of this vulnerable population. We encourage counselors to take a stand to address the existing barriers that block offenders from successful reentry into our communities, and we look forward to using our collective knowledge and training to impact future generations.

 

****

 

Carl Sheperis is the social services program dean for the College of Humanities and Sciences at University of Phoenix. Contact him at Carl.Sheperis@phoenix.edu.

Franzi Walsh is the criminal justice and public administration program dean for the College of Humanities and Sciences at University of Phoenix. Contact her at Franzi.Walsh@phoenix.edu.

Letters to the editor: ct@counseling.org

 

****

 

Related reading, from the Counseling Today archives: “Seeing people, not prisoners” https://wp.me/p2BxKN-4tq

 

 

****

 

Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

Stories of empowerment

By Lindsey Phillips September 26, 2017

In 2009, writer Chimamanda Adichie gave a TED Talk on the danger of reducing people to a single narrative, using her own personal stories to illustrate the complexity of individuals. In one of those stories, she revealed how her college roommate in the United States had a single understanding of Africa — one of catastrophe. Adichie, a middle-class Nigerian woman, did not fit this single-story narrative. To her roommate’s surprise, Adichie spoke English, listened to Mariah Carey and knew how to use a stove.

Adichie points out that people are impressionable and vulnerable in the face of a story. Stories are powerful, she says, but that power is dependent on who is telling the story and how it is told. “Power is the ability not just to tell the story of another person, but to make it the definitive story of that person,” Adichie says.

Storytelling can also be used to empower people, which is one of the primary functions of narrative therapy. In many ways, the story of narrative therapy began in the late 1970s through shared stories and conversations between Michael White and David Epston. This counseling approach assumes that culture, language, relationships and society contribute to the way that individuals understand their identities and problems and make meaning in their lives.

The narrative approach also separates the person from the problem — a technique that allows clients to externalize their feelings. “The spirit of externalizing the problem is so that the client doesn’t see that as something that they can’t change,” says Kevin Stoltz, an American Counseling Association member who is an assistant professor of counselor education at the University of New Mexico. Moreover, this approach places clients as the experts in their own lives (see sidebar, below).

Don Redmond, an associate professor of counseling at Mercer University in Atlanta and director of the university’s Center for the Study of Narrative (CSN), points out that White and Epston’s original vision of narrative therapy was not prescriptive. “It really is in some ways theoretical, even though there are specific techniques that you can learn. It really is about celebrating and appreciating each person’s unique story and helping them frame it in a way that is more self-affirming and less self-defeating,” he explains.

(Re)writing memories

Narrative therapy can help clients release the burden of painful memories. Cheryl Sawyer, professor of counseling at the University of Houston–Clear Lake, started using narrative therapy in part because of an aha moment she experienced while watching a scene in the movie Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. In the scene, Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore shows Harry the Pensieve, an object that stores thoughts and memories.

Sawyer specializes in trauma counseling and often works with children who are refugees or who have been abused. She wanted to help her child clients release their traumatic memories, so she created a narrative project in which children create memory books. As Sawyer explains, the memory books operate like the Pensieve, allowing the children to unpack their trauma and give it a safe place to live.

Children do not narrate the episodes of their lives chronologically, Sawyer notes. Instead, their level of trust determines where their stories begin. If they trust the counselor, she says, they will reveal more intimate details (e.g., “I was beaten up at my birthday party”) rather than offering only the generic version (e.g., “I received presents”).

Because children’s narratives typically are structured but not sequential, it can be hard to discern cause and effect, says Sawyer, a member of ACA. To overcome this, counselors can have child clients place events from their stories on a timeline. This technique allows clients to see the cause and effect, understand their own behavior and possibly project what might come next based on the patterns they notice.

In Stoltz’s experience, Adlerian theory and early recollections (an Adlerian process in which counselors instruct clients to remember actual events from their early life) work well with narrative therapy. This is because they help people understand their self-concept and self-identity and make meaning out of the experiences embedded in their lives.

In a classical Adlerian sense, early recollections are defined as memories before age 10, Stoltz says. “The time frame … is somewhat artificial in some aspects, but in other aspects, it’s good to understand the very core of when those first experiences started to come out for people — what they remember, what they really think is poignant that … shapes their beliefs and their worldview,” he says. Childhood memories are often distorted by one-dimensional thinking because people’s perception in childhood is different than in adulthood, he adds. Re-storying involves recalling these early memories and reinterpreting them with an adult mindset that is capable of higher cognitive exploration.

Stoltz is currently applying guided imagery to career narrative stories. As he explains, clients often have a fictional or real-life person they admired when they were young because the person’s traits or behaviors matched the way they thought the world should operate. Often, they used this hero narrative to move through life, Stoltz says.

For example, with one client who presented a heroic memory of Spider-Man, Stoltz noticed a pattern: The client kept using the word conflict in his narrative. In discussing this pattern, they discovered that the client no longer wanted to let his responsibilities be an excuse for shying away from conflict. So, they worked together to determine how the client handled conflict currently, how the client wanted to handle it in the future and how the client’s role models handled conflict.

“Guided imagery is a way of projecting that hero data onto a future career decision or a career transition. And it makes it more lifelike in the session for the person. It begins to allow them to purposefully imagine and really begin to apply that self-concept to the next step in their career,” Stoltz says.

Stoltz uses narrative data from the career construction interview to develop individualized scripts, including ones focused on supporting client identity, meaningfulness of work and aspects of adaptability and skills. “The narrative approach is always about writing the next chapter, and this is a way of applying the next chapter to an imagined world, a daydream,” he explains.

Pictures worth a thousand words

Words can sometimes fail clients. If clients cannot or will not articulate their stories with words, counselors must be creative and find another way for clients to express themselves, Redmond says. “The more versatile a counselor can be, the better,” he adds.

Sawyer works with some clients who possess limited vocabularies because they have lived on the streets from an early age and haven’t been exposed to higher levels of language. For example, a child might say, “I’m really mad,” but that statement is insignificant compared with what he or she is actually feeling.

When children don’t have all the words they need to express their thoughts, Sawyer relies on pictures. She asks clients to draw pictures, find pictures on the Internet or even go out and take pictures that support the deeper level of emotion in their personal stories. Often, she will take a series of pictures into the counseling session and ask clients if any of the pictures express how they feel that day and why that image best exemplifies what they are feeling.

Technology is providing yet another avenue for clients to communicate their stories. Sawyer finds that children and adolescents are often more comfortable texting than talking, so she has started using technology as a tool in storytelling. She creates digital narratives by typing the clients’ stories into PowerPoint slides. Then, she gives clients the option of adding music, images or art to depict how they feel. For example, one client added a picture of his father’s death certificate, and another client added a picture of a pair of shoes she was going to send her sister before her sister was murdered.

Redmond also combines technology and narrative therapy. At Mercer University’s CSN, counseling students interview people in the community and then convert these interviews into digital narratives (approximately five-minute videos) by selecting pictures, art and music to complement each person’s narration of his or her own story. One woman whom Redmond interviewed painted and sang to express her story, and both aspects were incorporated into her digital narrative. Pairing descriptions of her artwork with actual images of it captured her essence more fully than if she had been only interviewed, he adds.

These digital narratives allow individuals not only to rewatch their stories but also to share their stories with others. In fact, one of Redmond’s goals for CSN is to create a digital library that will help individuals going through a difficult time to realize that they aren’t alone.

Taking a back seat

Narrative therapy falls under postmodern theory. “One of the hallmarks of the postmodern approach is embracing the fact that there is subjectivity with an individual’s perception and what they’ve been through and not having the counselor come in and be the expert,” Redmond says. With narrative therapy, he explains, clients are the ones verbalizing the new or modified narrative of their lives, and counselors only paraphrase or mirror what clients are saying.

Because narrative therapy is client driven, it is more important for clients to understand how they are feeling than for the counselor to understand it, Sawyer says. “[Counselors are] the tool that [clients are] using, the base that they’re using, to tell their stories for themselves,” she explains. Clients must be provided with a safe space where they can share their stories and learn to express their feelings about what happened.

As a volunteer with Bikers Against Child Abuse, Sawyer often attends court cases involving children who have been abused, and she has observed children’s frustration when lawyers interrupt or guide their stories in answer to a specific question. For Sawyer, this observation further underscores the importance of allowing clients, not counselors, to direct and narrate their stories. As she points out, counselors are facilitators for the client’s story, so their job is to listen and help the client structure the order of the story, not the content.

Stoltz has found that the process of deconstructing and reconstructing the elements of a client’s story is often challenging, particularly for counseling students. To demystify this process, in 2015, Stoltz, along with Susan Barclay, published a guidebook, The Life Design ThemeMapping Guide, that provides counselors with a process for deconstructing narrative data, developing specific themes for the career construction interview and helping clients reauthor their stories. For the past five years, Stoltz has used this technique to train students to deconstruct and theme elements together.

Taking a back seat and allowing clients to guide the session can be particularly difficult for new counselors because they want to feel that they are accomplishing something, Stoltz says. They want to sense that the client has made a decision and is moving in a direction. Drawing on James Prochaska and Carlo DiClemente’s Stages of Change model, Stoltz reminds counselors that they’re “raising awareness now. You’re in the beginning of the change model. You’re in the contemplation stage or precontemplation stage. You’re not looking for movement. You’re looking for insight or awareness, the aha moment.”

A voice for marginalized, multicultural populations

With narrative therapy, clients inform counselors about their world, values and beliefs. In fact, early recollections provide counselors with an inside view of the client’s culture, Stoltz says.

Within this dynamic, a counselor’s culture and values may differ from the client’s, but counselors should not place cultural judgment on what clients have done, Sawyer says. For example, clients might disclose that they have offered sex in exchange for food, or they may use profanity in telling their story, but counselors must refrain from passing judgment, even if they think this act or language is hideous or immoral based on their own cultural perspective. Clients must feel safe to use their own language and words to freely tell their stories, Sawyer adds.

Redmond agrees that narrative therapy is compatible with cross-cultural environments because narrative counselors do not presume to know and tell clients about their problems. He also realizes that too often, the stories of marginalized individuals remain unheard. One of Redmond’s inspirations for creating CSN was StoryCorps, an oral history project that allows people to record their stories in a studio by having a family member or friend interview them. The recordings are then archived at the Library of Congress. Through CSN, Redmond expanded the project to include marginalized populations (e.g., people who are homeless, refugees) who do not readily have someone available to interview them and record their stories.

Redmond believes the community plays a significant role in narrative therapy. Therefore, CSN’s purpose is both to allow counselors to practice their listening skills and to provide a service to the community by letting people who are marginalized know that they are valued. Even though the CSN interviews are not considered official therapy, most people would agree that the simple act of telling one’s story can be therapeutic, Redmond says.

Redmond’s personal story also played a role in the creation of CSN. Besides the fact that he has always enjoyed stories, Redmond had two professional experiences that strengthened his belief in the power of narrative therapy. First, in his role as a supervisor at Hillside in Atlanta, a facility that serves children with severe emotional behavior disorders, he discovered that the children with the most severe behaviors and who had been at the facility the longest also possessed the most strengths. This observation made an impression on him, especially considering all the negative messages directed at these children, many of whom had been abused and were in and out of foster care.

The second experience occurred when Redmond was an access clinician at a community services board. Many individuals were at this facility under court order or because they were dealing with mental health issues. While conducting intake interviews, Redmond amused himself by writing down the clients’ strengths (e.g., intelligent, strong work history, sense of humor, family support). At the end of the interview, he would tell the clients the strengths he had jotted down and then would ask if they wanted to add anything. He often witnessed powerful reactions from the clients, including those who cried and said no one had ever told them that they had strengths.

These two experiences reinforced Redmond’s belief that “people start creating negative self-stories, and they start to only believe the negative images, and then they forget about the strengths that they have.” Therefore, Redmond advises counselors never to forget to account for the strengths of their clients, no matter the difficulty of the case.

The cultural awareness gleaned from narrative therapy also applies to clients, allowing them to question their own cultures. Often, Stoltz says, the difficult part is relating the memories and stories back to the client’s present life. Some clients grasp this concept more easily than others, and some struggle to understand how childhood events are still affecting them as adults. The latter scenario is challenging. “Early memories really are a good tool to have to be able to talk to people from different cultures because [there are] stories in every culture. … Memories are a story, and [they are] a way of relating that whole story back to the person,” he says.

Validating narrative therapy

Critics of narrative therapy often question how counselors objectively measure narrative techniques, which are subjective. “I think we’re in the infancy of starting to measure these kinds of things. I think we’re just beginning to rediscover some of the things that have been helpful in mental health counseling, and we’re applying those as new techniques to the career narrative area,” says Stoltz, who served as chair of the research committee for the National Career Development Association, a division of ACA. At conferences, counselors are discussing how the narrative approach works, and they are doing outcome research that says it works, but they are not yet validating the process, he adds.

“You cannot quantify emotion,” Sawyer acknowledges. She and her colleagues attempted to measure narrative approaches by administering a pretest and posttest to children who had suffered trauma. They found a valid instrument and administered it in the children’s native language, but the formality of the instrument and the fact that the counselors had not yet established a relationship with the clients caused some clients to leave prematurely. Based on this experience, Sawyer decided not to administer the posttest and concluded that sometimes narrative therapy is not about research; it is about clients and their needs.

The best method Sawyer has found for measuring the success of narrative therapy involves having clients point to shapes (e.g., small, medium and large circles) to indicate how big their problems are both before and after counseling sessions. Using this method, she has found that narrative therapy has a positive effect because for most children, the representative shape decreases in size at the end of the counseling sessions. However, because counselors cannot account for all variables — if court is over, if the client is living in a home with 14 other children, if the client has learned to speak English and so on — it is impossible to know whether clients have improved strictly because of narrative therapy, she points out.

Redmond is a proponent of mixed-methods research because quantitative research (e.g., a Likert-type scale) provides more breadth than depth, whereas qualitative research provides the depth. In addition, they complement each other: Quantitative research can provide counselors with great ideas for qualitative research and vice versa. Redmond recommends first using quantitative research, such as a survey, because clients find it less threatening and less personal, but it will still get clients thinking about their experiences. Then, counselors can ask clients the magic question: “Is there anything you haven’t discussed that you would like to talk about?”

Stoltz has discovered that finding thematic codes for categorizing narrative data is one way to measure narrative techniques. For example, people who engage in storytelling about traumatic events in their lives tend to integrate these life events into meaningful stories and report higher life and career satisfaction.

“Preliminary evidence is beginning to show that when trained people read these stories, they come to the same conclusions,” Stoltz says. “That’s an important first step in validating …
this process.”

In addition, digital narratives may provide opportunities to quantify narrative interventions in the future, Redmond says.

Integrating narrative practices

Narrative therapy is not for the lightweight, and it is not as easy as it sounds, Sawyer says. In fact, self-doubt can prevent counselors from using narrative techniques, she points out. To avoid this, counselors need practical experience. Just taking one course or workshop or reading a book on the topic won’t mean that counselors will know how to use the approach correctly. Instead, Sawyer argues that counselor training should involve a holistic approach in which counselors expose themselves to the topic not only through courses, books and articles but also by practicing under supervision and processing all along the way.

Also, some counselors are hesitant to incorporate mental health-based approaches if their training is in another specialty such as career counseling. Stoltz, however, stresses the importance of taking an integrated perspective because people have multidimensional experiences that are not mutually exclusive. “Career counseling is often seen as limited to the career dimension, but it is really counseling with a career goal in mind,” he says.

For Stoltz, it makes sense to apply narrative therapy to career counseling because there is always a story behind one’s career. Furthermore, many people spend eight to 10 hours working every day, and work stress is a significant contributor to a person’s well-being or absence of well-being, he says. Despite this, counselors are generally not incorporating work aspects into mental health, he points out.

Thus, Stoltz argues that counselors “need to rethink [their] specialization construct.” Unfortunately, it is easy for counselor educators to design courses that address a certain standard (e.g., a career counseling course, a trauma course, a multicultural course). However, when counselor educators create stand-alone courses, students often move from one course to another without integrating those courses, Stoltz says. To avoid this, he incorporates basic counseling skills alongside career counseling because students must learn to respond to content and meaning before they can help a client deconstruct a story.

Sawyer’s counseling program at Houston–Clear Lake integrates narrative therapy into the curriculum by introducing narrative therapy as a counseling tool and working narrative techniques into multiple courses. “It is not the only way to counsel but … like how everybody knows how to do Rogers, everybody knows how to do Gestalt … all of my students know how to do CBT [cognitive behavior therapy] and trauma-focused CBT, and they all know how to do narrative counseling,” she says.

Stoltz agrees with expanding counseling areas, but he also worries that as counseling training becomes broader, counseling programs are finding it difficult to retain depth. Counseling students need to understand both the academic jargon and the practical training associated with those terms, he stresses. “Re-storying needs to be accompanied with a practical, pragmatic application of what that looks like and what that process is,” he says.

Stoltz is helping to bridge this gap by incorporating experience work in his classroom, which is a technique modeled after Mark Savickas’ pedagogical practice. For example, a counseling student might do a case study and follow someone through a career intervention, or a career story, and present this constructed story to the class.

Redmond finds that counseling students infrequently have many opportunities to train specifically in narrative therapy or narrative studies. Currently, students in his program are introduced to narrative therapy under the umbrella of postmodern approaches in a counseling theories course, but his goal is to have students do more specialized work in narrative therapy in the future. As a step toward achieving this goal, he will be working this fall on a proposal for a narrative certificate program.

Authoring the next chapter

Stoltz acknowledges that misinterpretation or a unitary interpretation of a client’s story is one of the pitfalls of narrative therapy. “[Counselors] feel like [we’ve] got the inside track on this because [we] have this psychological knowledge, this counseling knowledge, and [we] have to be careful with that,” he warns.

Often, counselors will make up their mind about what the story means to the client. But the counselor’s job is to test, not to interpret, Stoltz says. Counselors should make the client aware of what they see and test that theme or theory with the client while still respecting that it is the client’s story, he explains. The client is the one who has to live the life and rewrite the story; the counselor’s job is to help the client accomplish this.

Adichie reminds us that “stories can break the dignity of a people, but stories can also repair that broken dignity.” Narrative therapy provides clients with a safe space to tell their stories. With a counselor’s guidance, clients can slowly reject the negative stories and stereotypes that create an incomplete or inaccurate representation of who they are as individuals and replace them with stories that empower them to take control of their lives and regain their humanity.

Stories are powerful, but the person holding the pen is the one who controls the story. Revision is key when writing a novel, and this holds true in narrative therapy as well. People first have to understand and narrate their stories in order to rewrite them and become the authors of their next chapter.

 

****

 

Narrative approaches

As explained in the fifth edition of Counseling and Psychotherapy: Theories and Interventions, edited by David Capuzzi and Douglas R. Gross and published by the American Counseling Association, narrative therapy is based on the following beliefs:

1) Clients are not defined by problems they present in counseling.

2) Clients are experts on their lives, so in counseling, judiciously seek their expertise.

3) Clients have many skills, competencies and internal resources on which to draw when impacting change and growth.

4) Therapeutic change occurs when clients accept their role as authors of their lives and begin to create a life narrative that is congruent with their hopes, dreams and aspirations.

 

****

 

Lindsey Phillips is a freelance writer and UX content strategist living in Northern Virginia.
She has 10 years of experience writing on topics such as health, social justice and technology. Contact her at lindseynphillips@gmail.com or through her website at lindseynphillips.com.

Letters to the editor: ct@counseling.org

 

****

 

Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.

Achieving a better understanding of adult autism

By Kenneth J. Smith September 11, 2017

Autism, Asperger’s and “nerd” personality features (to use a concept from Temple Grandin, a prominent author and speaker on both autism and animal behavior) seem to have something of an air of mystery and intimidation for many mental health professionals. Let’s face it, clients with autism/Asperger’s have very different ways of perceiving and thinking than most counselors do. For instance, talking about feelings in an unstructured way à la Carl Rogers is unlikely to be nearly as productive with these types of clients as with other clients. Barring extreme examples, I prefer to think of individuals with autism, Asperger’s or nerd characteristics as having a set of co-occurring personality features rather than a mental disorder. To that end, I refer to these kinds of clients as PFAANs (personality features of autism, Asperger’s and nerds). I refer to non-PFAANs (sometimes called neurotypical) as NONs.

When I became a licensed professional counselor, I had a decade of experience running pigs through mazes (animal behavior/animal welfare research) for my Master of Science and working as a humane handling consultant/reviewer in more than 350 slaughterhouses (basically, I did work similar to what Grandin does in slaughterhouses). During that time, I read all kinds of books by Grandin and others to see how autism might help me understand animal and human behavior and cognition to further my work and career. Coming from this background, I was rather surprised to learn that I was expert in counseling adults with PFAAN, and now a large part of my practice rotates around this. I provide a therapy group for developing social skills in adults with PFAAN, and I help NONs better understand and engage with spouses or loved ones with PFAAN. At least in my region, there are very few mental health colleagues I can refer to who have much expertise in adult PFAAN approaches and needs.

The lack of services for adults with PFAAN (and their loved ones) is striking. Many resources are available for childhood/adolescent autism, but these approaches do not seem well-suited for adults, and there is almost nothing for people over age 21. Although I have no hard statistics to back this up, I suspect that individuals with PFAAN make up at least 20 percent of the U.S. population. To quote Hans Asperger, “Once one has learned to pay attention to the characteristic manifestations of autism, one realizes that they are not at all rare.”

To illustrate how many clients you might be seeing without realizing that they have PFAAN, consider whether you could apply the ways of thinking presented in this article to many of your clients who work in science, technology, engineering and math careers. You will see clients with PFAAN in your practice, so it is important to have a way of understanding their thinking patterns.

A central issue for clients with PFAAN is their lack of ability to naturally recognize emotions and empathize with others. If you’re confused by how to help, it may be useful to conceptualize the different ways that emotions seem to work in these clients compared with most other clients. A common tool used in mental health therapy is the Feeling Wheel developed by Gloria Willcox. It is the one tool I have found that both PFAANs and NONs seem to comprehend, so it has served as a valuable tool in bridging the understanding gap between these two groups.

The Feeling Wheel is an excellent way of visually conceptualizing how emotions work differently for clients with PFAAN and NONs. Grandin has suggested that a good method for teaching cognitive flexibility to individuals with PFAAN is to describe people and their actions as a mixture of colors.

The Feeling Wheel (see above) is also in line with another of Grandin’s concepts in which she describes a difference between PFAANs and NONs. She says that many individuals with PFAAN tend to think in specific pictures, whereas NONs seem to think in words/emotions. How this pictures versus word concept works can be quite complicated, but the visual concepts in the Feeling Wheel simplify how to explain this difference. I have developed a list of concepts using the Feeling Wheel and its colors to help counselors and clients empathize with one another and to get to the clients’ goals and skill development.

Concepts

Concept A: People with PFAAN will intuitively get/understand only the innermost (core) feelings. If most people in the world had PFAAN, the Feeling Wheel would probably contain just an inner core (see image below).

The recognition of the detailed emotions (represented in the outer rings of the Feeling Wheel above) seem to develop naturally in NONs but not in individuals with PFAAN. The outer rings of the Feeling Wheel can be taught to clients with PFAAN, but this must be done in an inductive way, similar to the way that most NONs learn math. NONs start with 1+1=2; people with PFAAN need to draw a picture of what the more subjective feeling looks like in NONs so that they can relate the outer rings back to the inner core that they more readily understand. I’ll share more about this later.

Concept B: Emotional processing changes how the world is seen and experienced. NONs can have all kinds of emotions at the same time. For example, if a NON sees a cow, he or she might have several different emotions at different intensity levels about that cow at the same time:

a) Peaceful: “That cow chewing cud is so Zen.”

b) Anxious: “That cow might come and attack me.”

c) Sad: “That cow will be killed to be eaten.”

d) Angry: “I get angry about the ways cow are treated in bullfights.”

The NON’s emotions will also tend to make the picture of the cow less distinct when the person turns the cow into words and emotions. (I think this is somewhat similar in idea to Carl Jung’s archetypes. For example, you don’t remember one cow; you shove the individual cow you see into the archetype cow in your mind.) So, often, this will happen in NONs:

Individuals with PFAAN tend to have only one or a few emotions at a time. They seem prone to black-and-white thinking, rigidity to change and litigiousness (for example, they may ask what the hard rules are for social interaction). So, when a person with PFAAN sees a cow, and if he or she finds cows peaceful, conceptually, the emotional experience he or she will likely have is the picture of that cow overlaid with the emotion (see below).

The way that emotions work in people with PFAAN seems to more closely model the way that emotions work in social animals. For example, a dog either likes a person or is scared of a person, but the dog rarely seems to have both emotions at the same time.

Concept C1: Individuals with PFAAN tend to have one emotion at a time (AND versus OR emotions). NONs can often experience several emotions together. I refer to this as AND emotions (see below).

 

Clients with PFAAN may also have different emotions about something, but they can process only one at a time. I refer to this as OR emotions (see below).

Concept C2: NONs mix emotional colors to get completely novel feeling colors, whereas PFAANs flip between colors. Related to Concept C1, NONs use AND emotions to make new emotional colors (think of mixing paint). A NON might feel strongly peaceful yet a little afraid when seeing a cow (mix dark blue and light orange to get a teal emotional archetype cow).

Individuals with PFAAN won’t readily mix colors, although they might flip between emotions rapidly. The flipping is where they are analyzing what to do (“Should I cry or run away?”) if more than one emotion is present (for example, strong peaceful feelings and a little fear of a specific cow). Usually, the emotion expressed in the client with PFAAN is the most “vivid” color emotion.

Concept D: Individuals with PFAAN take more time to process and switch between emotions. OR emotions and emotional flipping appear to lengthen the time it takes to process the emotions. This lack of speed in emotional processing is often interpreted by NONs as not caring, being cold or being anti-social. The speed of emotional processing seems very important to most people, and many of my clients with PFAAN develop deep shame for their inability to rapidly process emotions. (See No. 5 under the “Counseling approach ideas” section below for more illustrations of this concept.)

Concept E: Individuals with PFAAN are prone to emotional and sensory overload, which may lead to a new emotional color that equals shutdown. What do you often get if you mix all the colors of the feelings together in individuals with PFAAN? Black. This is a good conceptualization of what happens in many people with PFAAN when they are confused or overloaded: shutdown.

Shutdown also happens in NONs (think about the shutdown of emotional controls in the animated movie Inside Out, where everything became gray and the emotions no longer worked). However, it usually takes much more time and intensity (think posttraumatic stress disorder) for NONs to get to black.

To extrapolate from the work of John Gottman in couples therapy, men are generally more prone to sensory/emotional shutdown than are women (see Gottman’s concepts of stonewalling and flooding for more information and illustrations). Based on my work with clients with PFAAN, I strongly suspect that men naturally have more features of PFAAN than women do. The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reported that autism is 4.5 times more likely to be diagnosed in males. This means that many more men than women would have mild features of PFAAN. Grandin suggests that among girls, PFAAN is often labeled as being a “tomboy,” which doesn’t seem to receive the same level of focus or concern as the presence of autism in males. New research also suggests that females with PFAAN may generally be better than males are at social masking of these features. Or to quote Asperger, “The autistic personality is an extreme variant of male intelligence.”

An example from my experience is that giving too many food choices to a client with PFAAN can lead to shutdown. A large menu may be too hard for these individuals to process in a given amount of time because what they “feel” like having can often take much more time to figure out than it would for other individuals.

Concept F: The default emotion of most individuals with PFAAN is anxiety (if not shutdown). Anxiety appears to increase in those with PFAAN from adolescence on. I believe that increased anxiety proneness is a strong feature of being a person with PFAAN, although such a view is controversial. Novelty — good, bad or indifferent — almost always causes more fear in those with PFAAN than it does in NONs. Hence, rigidity in behavior, speech, routine or time management may often be an attempt to control fear.

Individuals with PFAAN and animals share the experience of novelty and sensory overstimulation producing anxiety and fear. An example from livestock science is the observation of flight zones in animals. The flight zone is how far an animal stays away from a person or experience. The less anxiety the animal feels, the smaller the flight zone. Novelty and sensory overload in animals produce fear or anxiety and lead to avoidance behavior. Thus, if this is the animal’s experience, the flight zone increases. Flight zones are reduced through exposure and positive (or at least neutral) experience. Being around strangers often produces great anxiety in animals and in clients with PFAAN. Thus, both will often avoid strangers whenever possible.

Counseling approach ideas

It is important to realize that counselors will likely need to be much more directive and teacherlike with clients who have PFAAN than with their other clients. Unconditional positive regard, reflection and talk therapy probably won’t be particularly useful because these clients are unlikely to get what these Rogerian-based interventions are working on or doing. What is most likely to be helpful to these clients is to remain focused on the skills that they need and then teaching them those skills. What follows are some approaches I have discovered that seem to help clients with PFAAN in the context of therapy.

1) Teach/discuss the Feeling Wheel concepts. I have found that simply teaching the Feeling Wheel concepts discussed in this article provides many clients who have PFAAN with the tools to move toward their goals and something constructive to do in the counseling context. These clients tend to be analytical and often like testing ideas. Interestingly, many clients with PFAAN are shocked when they find out that most people experience more than one emotion at a time. PFAANs and NONs speak a very different emotional language, so it is important to have a “Rosetta stone” to help facilitate emotional communication.

2) Teach the general behaviors that the emotions cause or are related to. For me, these are the main behaviors that go with the Feeling Wheel, and teaching these behaviors gives clients with PFAAN clues of what to look for in others. Behaviors are often easier to measure than are other ways of interpreting emotion. I relate the core emotions to the following broad behaviors (although there are many others):

Emotion Behavior

Powerful Having a choice/creating

Joyful Attraction/pursuit

Scared Avoidance/flight/urgency

Mad Aggression/flight

Sad Slowing down/reflecting

Peaceful Calm/unhurried/content

In my experience, the best emotional states in which to be empathic/thoughtful are sad, peaceful and powerful. Mad, scared and joyful appear to be more action oriented. Make sure that the client with PFAAN is in or near one of the thoughtful emotional states when practicing empathy training.

3a) Teach these clients to label the emotion they see in others so they can relate it back to the core emotions and choose an emotionally appropriate response. Practice what the emotions on the Feeling Wheel’s outer ring look like. For example, ask what the visual and auditory signs are of a person who is discouraged. The person may look down, exhibit less body movement, speak about being discouraged and so on. Once that emotion is labeled, trace it back to the core emotion (discouraged is a kind of “scared”) to help the client understand it better and have empathy.

3b) Teach clients with PFAAN phrases and actions that can be used once they empathize with the person’s emotion. Just because clients with PFAAN learn to empathize does not mean that they know how to respond appropriately. For example, a client with PFAAN might feel great anxiety at a funeral. To break the silence and sense of mourning that is causing his anxiety, he may start talking loudly to those around him about a new model airplane he is working on. This incorrect social response can have serious repercussions.

It can be helpful for these clients if counselors assign them a set response (at least in the beginning) for each core emotion. For example, you might instruct the client, “If you determine that a person is sad, a good response is to tell that person, ‘I am sorry that X happened’ in a calm voice.”

4) Teach one concept from the Feeling Wheel at a time. Remember, the emotional parts of the Feeling Wheel should be taught to clients with PFAAN in much the same way that you would teach children math: Start with the basics and work up. Clients may have no idea what scared looks like in themselves or others, so provide clear, visual, colored examples to illustrate the emotion. For instance, if the emotion is isolation, you might provide the visual of a person trapped in a purple box (because purple is the color for sad on the Feeling Wheel). A mirror might also be useful to show these clients what their facial expressions seem to be communicating to the counselor at any given time.

5) Teach clients to say “whoa.” Emotional processing takes longer in people with PFAAN, so it becomes very important for these clients to be able to communicate this to others. This is especially important in intimate relationships. I have noticed that many individuals with PFAAN are married to or have intimate relationships with NONs who are very emotional. To adapt a Catholic marriage concept, I think there might be great complementary benefit to such matches. He (usually) balances out her (usually) emotionality, whereas she provides him with an emotional vocabulary and a feeling of being needed. Sometimes this arrangement works well for many years, but then the more emotional partner begins to believe that the emotional avoidance and lack of emotionality/spontaneity on the other partner’s part indicate that he no longer loves her. Very often, this is not the case.

To offer a case example, if a wife asks a husband how he feels about her, she usually wants an answer that is specific and immediate. If the husband has PFAAN, it may take him some time to work out exactly what feelings he needs to communicate, no matter how much he loves her. This delay is often interpreted as the husband not caring, which can cause serious relationship issues. Either the client with PFAAN or the counselor needs to explain to the wife that it is hard for the husband to rapidly communicate his feelings but that, given time, he will tell her exactly how he feels.

You might also help clients with PFAAN “schedule” spontaneity into their relationships to improve them. I had a friend who decided that his wife liked being surprised with flowers, but he was not at all given to being spontaneous. So, he sat down, budgeted how many times he could afford to give his wife flowers (yes, he had a flower budget), and then randomly assigned different dates on his schedule for presenting the flowers. As a result, she got spontaneous (thus emotional) demonstrations of affection, and he still got to operate via a schedule and a budget. It worked great for them.

In a work example, a colleague wants to know everyone’s gut feelings about a new project. It may be important to teach the client with PFAAN how to tell this colleague that it will take time to understand what he or she feels about the project. If forced to communicate too quickly, deep anxiety or shutdown may occur. Clients with PFAAN typically have difficulty with “gut” feelings.

6) Use superhero/comic/sci-fi character modeling. Most of my clients with PFAAN like superheroes, fantasy and science fiction. Anime, a kind of film animation that originated in Japan, also seems very popular with these clients. I have noticed that almost every time an anime character has an emotion, the emotion is accompanied by an exaggerated facial expression or sound cue. You almost always know how an anime character feels, which may explain why anime is so popular among individuals with PFAAN. Many researchers seem to suggest that Asian cultures include more PFAAN by nature (e.g., saving face, defaulting to authority) than many other cultures do, which may explain why anime has these features.

I always ask my clients with PFAAN about their favorite superheroes or other favorite characters. This gives me insight into the clients and often provides a good picture that I can use to help them develop the emotional attributes exhibited by the characters they admire. I use this superhero therapy in a variety of ways, but one good technique that uses the Feeling Wheel is to make a color feelings diagram based on the client’s favorite superhero so that the client has some visual concept to reference.

For example, a client with PFAAN may really like and want to emulate Spider-Man. Spider-Man is a mix of powerful (he fights evil and has superpowers), joyful (optimism and hope) and scared (social anxiety caused by nerdiness) emotions. Aiming the client toward getting the emotions he or she needs to be more like the superhero provides structure for change. “I have plenty of scared. To be more like Spider-Man, I need to practice being more powerful.”

One warning: Make sure that clients choose characters who will move them toward healthy and effective goals. If a hero (or anti-hero) whom a client has chosen would be unhealthy to emulate emotionally or morally, don’t be afraid to speak up. I say this from personal experience. I had one client who really liked the character Deadpool, but under no account should this character be an emotional or moral model.

Conclusion

The concepts I have illustrated connected to the Feeling Wheel have been a revelation in helping my clients understand the difference between PFAANs and NONs and how to approach skill building and therapeutic effectiveness. It is the only tool I know of that explains and demystifies emotional responses in PFAANs and NONs (the group that most counselors fall into). These concepts and approaches have made a huge impact on my ability to help clients with PFAAN and their loved ones.

Adults with PFAAN will find their way into your practice. It is important to know how their emotions work and what may be effective and rewarding in therapy, both for them and for you.

 

****

 

Kenneth J. Smith practices at Spirit of Peace Clinical Counseling in Ohio. He enjoys working with clients with PFAAN and clients with existential challenges, teaching and speaking. He holds a bachelor’s degree in animal science, a bachelor’s in history, a master’s degree focused on animal welfare/behavioral psychology and a master’s in clinical mental health counseling focused on the treatment of shame and guilt. Contact him at info@kentherapy.com or through his personal professional website at kentherapy.com.

Letters to the editor: ct@counseling.org

Counseling Today reviews unsolicited articles written by American Counseling Association members. To access writing guidelines and tips for having an article accepted for publication, go to ct.counseling.org/feedback.

 

****

 

Opinions expressed and statements made in articles appearing on CT Online should not be assumed to represent the opinions of the editors or policies of the American Counseling Association.