So You Wanna Be A Counselor?
I found myself in the shower thinking about what makes a good counselor a good counselor? This is a thought I've had off and on (mostly on) for the past year. It pops up occasionally in predictable places (like the shower) and in unpredictable places (like chipotle). It's an idea I apparently have open for renovation almost constantly, it's little dust particles falling in front of my eyes whenever something rattles its frame.
I'm going to pretend I have to answer that question right now, as if my life depended on it. As if I were running for president and my candidacy depended on me answering this questions (except in this case, the answer to the question would actually influence my presidency, which we all know isn't the case this run... yeah I went there).
(gulp.... blankly stare at invisible speck on wall... smile, out of instinct... open mouth)
"Thank you for this invigorating question. I cannot tell you the countless hours I've spent pondering this exact conundrum. It's an important question, there's no doubt about it; and yet, the answer is simultaneously simple and complex. It is an aha moment and a lifelong journey. It is as obvious as the nose on your face while also being the mirage in the desert. I cannot ascend to answer this question once and for all, as it disrespects the nuance of the profession and of the people we care for. At the same time, I cannot turn my head and simply tell people to figure out along the way, as it disrespects the curiosity and bravery of the inquirer asking for help.
I like to think that my answer to this question is ever evolving. Like a recipe your grandmother is famous for. Imagine your grandmother makes amazing enchiladas—I know mine does!. Now, imagine her teachers showed her how to preheat an oven, how to operate a mixer, how to portion correct measurements, and how to read a recipe. Picture that she had all this instruction about the skills needed for cooking, but she had no recipe. This is how some counseling students may feel about their training. They have the skills, and they may even have an idea of what they want to cook; but they have no recipe, no ingredients!
The point is, a bad recipe is better than no recipe at all. Even a bad recipe can be used as a plumline for making a new recipe, an amazing recipe! Further, the way the individual makes the recipe and the conditions in which they make it also play roles. I know I can't make my grandmother's enchiladas even when I use the same ingredients and the same recipe! This is also how some students may feel about their counseling training.
Of course, this analogy doesn't account for the training we DO get as counselors: we do understand some of the ingredients, such as positive regard, empathy, and genuineness. Yet, these terms are often shrouded by psychobabble and expressed so differently from person to person. It's an incomplete recipe. I did just say a bad recipe was better than no recipe, so I guess I have to live up to that now!
To return to the original question, and what my audience wants to hear most, I'd like to offer my working recipe for effective counseling. It may not be my grandmother's enchiladas, but it's a start."
Ingredients:
I'm going to pretend I have to answer that question right now, as if my life depended on it. As if I were running for president and my candidacy depended on me answering this questions (except in this case, the answer to the question would actually influence my presidency, which we all know isn't the case this run... yeah I went there).
"Rachel," the moderator begins, "first, let me welcome you to the arena this evening."
(Arena?!?! Where are we, The Hunger Games?)
"Thank you, kind human, I'm happy to be here. I'm also tired. I find myself saying that a lot lately."
"Haha, yes. Tiredness is the dickens."
"True dat, homie."
"Shall we get to the first quesion?"
"Oh, of course, yes; go ahead."
"Well, our audience is concerned with your recent experiences as a professional counselor in mental health. In fact, every one of them wants to be a counselor some day. Not just any counselor, they all want to be good counselors; makes sense. A good president leads the people into growth and accomplishment. Can you lead this audience into the same thing? They want to know how to become good counselors, so how would you answer them?"
(gulp.... blankly stare at invisible speck on wall... smile, out of instinct... open mouth)
"Thank you for this invigorating question. I cannot tell you the countless hours I've spent pondering this exact conundrum. It's an important question, there's no doubt about it; and yet, the answer is simultaneously simple and complex. It is an aha moment and a lifelong journey. It is as obvious as the nose on your face while also being the mirage in the desert. I cannot ascend to answer this question once and for all, as it disrespects the nuance of the profession and of the people we care for. At the same time, I cannot turn my head and simply tell people to figure out along the way, as it disrespects the curiosity and bravery of the inquirer asking for help.
I like to think that my answer to this question is ever evolving. Like a recipe your grandmother is famous for. Imagine your grandmother makes amazing enchiladas—I know mine does!. Now, imagine her teachers showed her how to preheat an oven, how to operate a mixer, how to portion correct measurements, and how to read a recipe. Picture that she had all this instruction about the skills needed for cooking, but she had no recipe. This is how some counseling students may feel about their training. They have the skills, and they may even have an idea of what they want to cook; but they have no recipe, no ingredients!
The point is, a bad recipe is better than no recipe at all. Even a bad recipe can be used as a plumline for making a new recipe, an amazing recipe! Further, the way the individual makes the recipe and the conditions in which they make it also play roles. I know I can't make my grandmother's enchiladas even when I use the same ingredients and the same recipe! This is also how some students may feel about their counseling training.
Of course, this analogy doesn't account for the training we DO get as counselors: we do understand some of the ingredients, such as positive regard, empathy, and genuineness. Yet, these terms are often shrouded by psychobabble and expressed so differently from person to person. It's an incomplete recipe. I did just say a bad recipe was better than no recipe, so I guess I have to live up to that now!
To return to the original question, and what my audience wants to hear most, I'd like to offer my working recipe for effective counseling. It may not be my grandmother's enchiladas, but it's a start."
Ingredients:
- Love
- Personal Flair
- Presence (this means refusing to physically, mentally, or emotionally withdraw from the person sitting across from you)
- Compassionate Curiosity ("I want to know more about this, not because it's interesting, but because it seems important to you and I care about the things you care about")
- Practice
- Choose a Theory - I know you don't want to, just try it. Start with the one that is least frustrating to you and ask, "What would so and so say about my client? What would so and so want to know about my client and why?"
- Choose a Space - make it the place you would wish you were in when an emotional bomb dropped. What would make you feel most you? Most safe? Most thought about?
- Choose a Mentor - who in your life believes in you, no questions asked? Talk to that person.
- Choose a Motive - remind yourself often of why you love this work, why you chose it in the first place.
- Choose an Emblem - what's one character quality you want to display in all of your counseling sessions, regardless of the content? Ideas: hopeful, peaceful, joyous, grateful, patient, kind, creative... Fill in the blank: I want to be the ______________ counselor.
- Choose a Secret Identity - find something you can do that is completely unrelated to your career. Allow yourself to not be "the counselor" in all your friendships, relationships, and activities.
- Preheat oven to hotter than Hell
- Clear your head. Seriously, your brain needs to breathe, so let it.
- Calm the heck down
- Have a routine
- Ask questions
- Stop asking questions
- See it to Be it
- Try it to Buy it
- Keep Track of What Works and What Doesn't
- If all else fails, return to the primary ingredient: love.
(mic drop, am I president now?)
Comments
Post a Comment