You may have a form to screen clients for a trauma history. However, more often than not, you’ll need to ask directly about trauma, just like you need to ask directly about suicidality. In many cases, as discussed in Chapter 3, it may be beneficial to wait and ask about trauma until the second or third session, or until there’s a logical opportunity. Although insomnia and nightmares don’t always signal trauma, when they co-exist, they provide an avenue to ask about trauma.
Counselor: Miguel, I’d like to ask a personal question. Would that be okay?
Miguel: Okay.
Counselor: Almost always, when people have nightmares about guns and death, it means they’ve been through some bad, traumatic experiences. When you’ve been through something bad or terrible, nightmares get stuck in your head and get on a sort of repeating cycle. Is that true for you?
Miguel: Yeah. I went through some bad shit back in Denver.
Counselor: I’m guessing that bad shit is stuck in your brain and one ways it comes out is through nightmares.
Miguel: Yeah. Probably.
Even when clients know their trauma experiences are causing their nightmares, they can still be reluctant to talk about the details. Physical and emotional discomfort associated with trauma is something clients often want to avoid. To reassure clients, you can tell them about specific evidence-based approaches—approaches that don’t require detailed recounting of trauma or nightmare experiences. Two examples include eye movement desensitization reprocessing (EMDR; Shapiro, 2001) and imagery rehearsal therapy (Krakow & Zadra, 2010).
Miguel: If I talk about the nightmares, they get more real. I have enough trouble keeping them out of my head now.
Counselor: That’s a good point. But right now your dreams are so bad that you’re barely sleeping. It’s worth trying to work through them. How about this? I’ve got a simple protocol for working with nightmares. You don’t even have to talk about the details of your nightmares. I think we should try it and watch to see if your dreams get better, worse, or stay the same? What do you think?
Miguel: I guess maybe my nightmares can’t get much worse.
Evidence-Based Trauma Treatments
In Miguel’s case, the first step was to get him to talk about his insomnia, nightmares, and trauma. Without details about his experiences, there was no chance to dig in and start treatment. The scenario with Miguel illustrates one method for getting clients to open up about trauma. Other clinical situations may be different. We’ve had Native American clients who were having dreams (or not having dreams, but wishing for them), and we needed to begin counseling by seeking better understanding of the role and meaning of dreams in their particular tribal culture.
Counselors who work with clients who are suicidal should obtain training for treating insomnia, nightmares, and trauma. Depending on your clients’ age, symptoms, culture, the treatment setting, and your preference, several different evidence-based treatments may be effective for treating trauma. The following bulleted list includes treatments recommended by the American Psychological Association (2017) or the VA/DoD Clinical Practice Guideline Working Group (2017), or both (Watkins et al., 2018).
Cognitive Processing Therapy (Resick et al., 2017).
Trauma-Focused Cognitive Behavioral Treatment (Cohen et al., 2012).
Although the preceding list includes the scientifically supported approaches to treating trauma, you may prefer other approaches, many of which are suitable for treating trauma (e.g., body-centered therapies, narrative exposure therapy for children [KID-NET], etc.).
Specific treatments for insomnia and nightmares are also essential for reducing arousal/agitation. Evidence-based treatments for insomnia and nightmares include:
Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy for Insomnia (CBT-I; Cunningham & Shapiro, 2018).
Targeting trauma symptoms in general, and physical symptoms in particular (e.g., arousal, insomnia, nightmares) can be crucial to your treatment plan. Addressing physical symptoms in your treatment instills hope and provides near-term symptom relief.
What follows is an excerpt from, Suicide Assessment and Treatment Planning: A Strengths-Based Approach (American Counseling Association, 2021). We address insomnia and nightmares in Chapter 7 (the Physical Dimension). This is just a glimpse into the cool content of this book.
Insomnia and nightmares directly contribute to client distress in general and suicidal distress in particular. In this section, we use a case example to illustrate how counselors can begin with a less personal issue (insomnia), use empathy, psychoeducation, and curiosity to track insomnia symptoms, eventually arrive at nightmares, and then inquire about trauma. Focusing first on insomnia, then on nightmares, and later on trauma can help counselors form an alliance with clients who are initially reluctant to talk about death images and trauma experiences.
Focusing on Insomnia
Miguel was a 19-year-old cisgender heterosexual Latino male working on vocational skills at a Job Corps program. He arrived for his first session in dusty work clothes, staring at the counselor through squinted eyes; it was difficult to tell if Miguel was squinting to protect his eyes from masonry dust or to communicate distrust. However, because the client was referred by a physician for insomnia, he also might have just been sleepy.
Counselor: Hey Miguel. Thanks for coming in. The doctor sent me a note. She said you’re having trouble sleeping.
Miguel: Yeah. I don’t sleep.
Counselor: That sucks. Working all day when you’re not sleeping well must be rough.
Miguel: Yeah. But I’m fine. That’s how it is.
To start, Miguel minimizes distress. Whether you’re working with Alzheimer’s patients covering their memory deficits or five-year-olds who get caught lying, minimizing is a common strategy. When clients say, “I’m fine” or “It is what it is” they may be minimizing.
But Miguel was not fine. For many reasons (e.g., pride, shame, or age and ethnicity differences), he was reluctant to open up. However, given Miguel’s history of being in a gang and his estranged relationship with his parents, the expectation that he should quickly trust and confide in a white male adult stranger is not appropriate.
Rather than pursuing anything personal, the counselor communicated empathy and interest in Miguel’s insomnia experiences.
Counselor: Not being able to sleep can make for very long nights. What do you think makes it so hard for you sleep?
Miguel: I don’t know. I just don’t sleep.
When asked directly, Miguel declines to describe his sleep problems. Rather than continue with questioning, the counselor fills the room with words (i.e., psychoeducation). Psychoeducation is a good option because sitting in silence is socially painful and because multicultural experts recommend that counselors speak openly when working with clients from historically oppressed cultural groups (Sue & Sue, 2016). The reasoning goes: If counselors are open and transparent, culturally diverse clients can evaluate their counselor before sharing more about themselves. As Miguel’s counselor talks, Miguel can decide, based on what he hears, whether his counselor is safe, trustworthy, and credible.
Counselor: Miguel, there are three main types of insomnia. There’s initial insomnia—that’s when it takes a long time, maybe an hour or more, to get to sleep. They call that difficulty falling asleep. There’s terminal insomnia—that’s when you fall asleep pretty well and sleep until maybe 3am and then wake up and can’t get back to sleep. They call that early morning awakening. Then there’s intermittent insomnia—that’s like being a light sleeper who wakes up over and over all night. They call that choppy sleep. Which of those fits for you?”
Miguel: I got all three. I can’t get to sleep. I can’t stay asleep. I can’t get back to sleep.
Counselor: That’s sounds terrible. It’s like a triple dose of bad sleep.
As Miguel begins opening up, he says “I haven’t slept in a week.” Although it’s obvious that zero minutes of sleep over a week isn’t accurate, for Miguel, it feels like he hasn’t slept in a week, and that’s what’s important.
Exploring Nightmares
After Miguel yawns, the counselor asks permission to share his thoughts.
Counselor: Miguel, if you don’t mind, I’d like to tell you what I’m thinking. Is that okay?
Miguel: Sure. Fine.
Counselor: When someone says they’re having as much trouble sleeping as you’re having, there are usually two main reasons. The first is nightmares. Have you been having nightmares?
Miguel: Shit yeah. Like every night. When I fall asleep, nightmares start.
Counselor: Okay. Thanks. I’m pretty sure I can help you with nightmares. We can probably make them happen less often and be less bad in just a few meetings.
The counselor’s confidence is based on previous successful experiences, including using a nightmare treatment protocol that has empirical support (Imagery Rehearsal Therapy; Krakow & Zadra, 2010). Although evidence-based treatments aren’t effective for all clients, they can establish credibility and instill hope. Nevertheless, Miguel doesn’t immediately experience hope.
Miguel: Yeah. But these aren’t normal nightmares.
Counselor: What’s been happening?
Miguel: I keep having this dream where I’m sticking a gun in my mouth. People are all around me with their voices and shit telling me, “pull the trigger.” Then I wake up, but I can’t get it out of my head all day? What the hell is that all about?”
Counselor: That’s a great question.
When the counselor says, “That’s a great question,” his goal is to start a discussion about all the reasons why someone (Miguel in this case), might have a “gun in the mouth” dream. If Miguel and his counselor can brainstorm different explanations and possible meanings for the dream images, it’s less likely for Miguel to interpret his dream as a sign that he should die by suicide. What’s important, we tell our clients, is to look at many different possible meanings the unconscious or God or the Great Spirit or the universe or indigestion might be sending to the dreamer. To help clients expand their thinking and loosen up on their conclusions about their dream’s meaning, we’ve used statements like the following:
You may be right. Your dream might be about you dying or killing yourself. But our goal is to listen to the message your brain sent you and be open to what it might mean. It’s perfectly normal to think your dream was about you dying by suicide—but that’s not necessarily true. That’s not the way the brain and dreams usually work. Some counselors use self-disclosure about dreams or nightmares they’ve had themselves. Others offer hypothetical or historical dream examples. Either way, normalizing nightmares helps clients become more comfortable talking about their bad dreams and nightmares.
To be continued . . . NEXT TIME . . . we ask about trauma.
For years I’ve been teaching counseling students that the cause of most emotional and psychological misery can be boiled down to one word. To inflame their competitive spirits, I tell them this powerful word starts with the letter E, and offer prizes to students if they can guess the correct word.
Sadly, no one ever guesses that I’m talking about “Expectation.”
Expectation is, IMHO, the biggest source of bad, sad, and maladaptive emotions. I suffer from my own expectations all the time. Just this morning, while trying to listen to a podcast on a walk, I became irrationally enraged with all things Apple. Why? Because my iPhone podcasting app didn’t work in an elegant, user-friendly manner. Even worse is that I’m fully aware of how silly it is for me to justify holding such high—or even modest—expectations when it comes to technology. I have repeated lived experiences that should have led me to know how often I (and others) are thwarted by technology. I also happily rely on and use technology for many hours every day, and although it feels otherwise, most of the time technology provides . . . my computer powers up, my emails get sent, my phone dials the right number, and magical things like Zoom conferences happen without adverse incident.
Here’s the irony: My expectations thwart my happiness far more often than technology thwarts my personal plans and goals. Nevertheless, I’m eager to throw a childish fit when an app malfunctions, but I continue to barely question my unrealistic expectations despite their predictable adverse emotional outcomes. Funny that (as the Brits might say). I resist blaming and changing that which I have some control over (my expectations), while I let loose with relentless complaints about that which I have little control over (technology).
The fortune in my fortune cookie from dinner with my father gave me a nudge toward recognizing and managing my expectations. Panda Express—not usually where I look for guidance—provided me with the wisdom I seek.
If I were inclined to use the word “wiring” when referring to neural networks (I’m not), I might question whether there’s a glitch in my wiring. However, because I’m pretty certain I’ve got no wires in my brain, I’m going after the glitch in my attitude. Sure, as I pursue my attitudinal glitch, my brain may undergo physical, chemical, and electrical changes, but I suspect the fix will be ever so much more complicated than clipping a wire here, and reconnecting another one there.
These days mostly we tend to orient toward the culturally specific, and that’s a good thing. Much of intersectionality, cultural competency, and cultural humility is all about drilling down into unique and valuable cultural and individual perspectives.
But these are also the days of Both-And.
In contrast to cultural specificity, some theorists—I’m thinking of William Glasser right now—were more known for their emphasis on cultural universality. Glasser contended that his five basic human needs were culturally universal; those needs included: Survival, belonging, power (recognition), freedom, and fun.
Although Glasser’s ideas may (or may not) have universal punch, he’s a white guy, and pushing universality from positions of white privilege are, at this particular point in history, worth questioning. That’s why I was happy to find an indigenous voice emphasizing universal ideas.
I came across a quotation from a Lakota elder, James Clairmont; he was discussing the concept of resilience, from his particular linguistic perspective:
The closest translation of “resilience” is a sacred word that means “resistance” . . . resisting bad thoughts, bad behaviors. We accept what life gives us, good and bad, as gifts from the Creator. We try to get through hard times, stressful times, with a good heart. The gift [of adversity] is the lesson we learn from overcoming it.
Clairmont’s description of “the sacred word that means resilience” are strikingly similar to several contemporary ideas in counseling and psychotherapy practice.
“Resisting bad thoughts, bad behaviors” is closely linked to CBT
“We accept what life gives us, good and bad, as gifts from the Creator” fits well with mindfulness
“We try to get through hard times, stressful times, with a good heart” is consistent with optimism concepts in positive psychology
“The gift [of adversity] is the lesson we learn from overcoming it” and this is a great paraphrase of Bandura’s feedback and feed-forward ideas
In these days of cultural specificity, it makes sense to work from both perspectives. We need to recognize and value our unique differences, while simultaneously noticing our similarities and areas of convergence. Clairmont’s perspectives on resilience make me want to learn more about Lakota ideas, both how they’re similar and different from my own cultural and educational experiences.
Today I’ve been putting together my powerpoints for the upcoming Nate Chute Foundation workshop. The NCF workshop is on two consecutive Tuesday evenings, starting this coming Tuesday.
While reviewing content for the ppts, I tried to pull all the intervention strategies from my brain, and failed. My excuse is that there are too many possible interventions for my small brain to memorize. As a consequence, I was forced to check out the “Practitioner Guidance and Key Points to Remember” sections at the end of all the intervention chapters. To give you a taste, here’s a photo of the “summary” page at the end of the cognitive chapter.
The Cognitive Dimension – Chapter Summary
Each of these bulleted items represents a potential method or strategy for intervening in the cognitive dimension with clients or students who are experiencing suicidality. I’m looking forward to talking about these strategies at the Nate Chute workshop, but rather than trying to commit them to memory (like Ebbinghaus would have), I’ll be using my powerpoint slides as a memory aid.
Earlier today I had a 90-minute Zoom meeting with the staff from Bridgercare of Bozeman, Montana. Bridgercare is a medical clinic focusing on sexual and reproductive health. Our meeting’s purpose was to provide staff with training on how to integrate a strengths-based approach to suicide assessment and treatment into their usual patient care.
It’s probably no big surprise to hear this, but even through Zoom, the Bridgercare staff was fabulous. They’re clearly dedicated to the safety and wellbeing of their patients. I enjoyed meeting them and wish I could have been there live and in-person (but, having gotten my second vaccine shot today, more live and in-person events are in my future!).
One member of the medical staff asked if I had material on how to enhance the safety planning process with patients. After fumbling the question for a while, I remembered that I included a safety planning case example in Chapter 8 of our suicide book. I’ve included the excerpt below. Although the case is written in my voice, as you read through, think about how you might put it into your voice.
This case description illustrates a positive working relationship and outcome. Just to make sure you know that I’m not too Pollyannaish about suicide-related work, the whole book also includes cases and situations with less positive scenarios and outcomes.
**********************
Below, the counselor is discussing a safety plan with a 21-year-old cisgender female college senior named Kayla. Kayla was attending a large state university and living off campus in a small apartment. In this case, Kayla was social distancing in compliance with state stay-at-home orders; the session was conducted remotely, via an online video-based HIPAA-compliant platform (e.g., Doxy.me, SimplePractice, etc.).
The Opening and Unique Suicide Warning Signs
Counselor: Kayla, I’m putting your name on the top of this form [holds form up to camera]. It’s called a safety planning form. Some very smart people made up this form to help people stay safe. There are six questions. We’re supposed to fill it out together. If you hate it when we’re done, we can toss it in the trash. Okay?
Kayla: Okay. That’s possible.
Counselor: That would be fine. Here’s the first question. I’m just going to read them to you. Then you answer, I’ll write down your answers, and then we talk about your answer. What are the signs, in yourself or in your environment that will be a warning that tells you that you need to do something to keep yourself safe?
Kayla: I just like feel a wave of sadness and defeat. Like my life means nothing. Like I’m a damaged, bad person who should die.
Counselor: Okay. A wave of sadness and defeat. How will you know that wave has come? What do you feel in your body or think in your brain?
Kayla: I feel a physical ache. I think about being abused. I think horrible thoughts.
Counselor: I’m writing down, “Wave of sadness and defeat, and physical ache, and thoughts of being damaged, bad, and abused.” Those are all signs that you should follow this safety plan.
Kayla: Also, being home alone at night.
In this initial exchange the counselor empowers Kayla to reject the plan if she wants to. Offering to let Kayla reject the plan probably makes it more likely for her to take ownership of the plan. If Kayla ends up rejecting the plan, that information becomes part of the overall assessment and guides treatment decision-making.
Kayla immediately engages in the process. Specifically, her trauma-based thoughts of being damaged and bad could be fruitful therapeutic grist for cognitive processing therapy or EMDR, both of which address trauma and focus on beliefs about the self. However, when using the SPI, it’s best to stay focused on the SPI, and save the deeper therapeutic content for later. The counselor could (and should) have said, “For now, we’re working on this plan. But later on, if you want, we can start working on your feelings of being damaged and bad.”
Personal Coping Strategies
Counselor: What can you do in the moment to cope with suicidal thoughts and feelings?
Kayla: Look. I could cut myself to feel better, but nobody wants me to do that.
Counselor: I’m sure it’s true that people don’t want you cutting. I also think it’s true that people would rather have you cut yourself than kill yourself. If cutting keeps you alive, we should put it in the plan, at least for now.
Kayla: I think it should be there then.
Counselor: Okay. So, cutting goes on here as a method for calming or soothing yourself. Have I got that right?
Kayla: Yeah. It calms me down when I’m upset.
Counselor: What else could calm you down or distract you from suicidal thoughts?
Kayla: I could listen to music or call a friend.
Counselor: Great. I’m writing those ideas into the plan right now.
Brainstorming coping responses is similar to other processes discussed in chapter 5 (problem-solving and alternatives to suicide). One key principle is to accept all responses before evaluating them later. In the preceding interaction, the counselor accepts that cutting might be a viable (even if not preferred) short-term coping strategy, and then continues to nudge Kayla to generate additional coping ideas. Although cutting isn’t addressed in this case example, after developing the safety plan, therapeutic conversations about cutting and alternatives to cutting, should become a part of ongoing counseling (see Kress et al., 2008; Stargell et al., 2017).
Social Contacts and Settings
Counselor: I’m wondering about those times when you’re alone. Who could you be with to stay safe? Even if it’s only for you to distract yourself?
Kayla: I have a friend named Monroe. He’s crazy. He’s always happy. Sometimes he annoys me, but he’s a good distraction.
Counselor: Monroe sounds like a great distraction. He’s in the plan. Are you able to see him in person, or would you do Facetime or a Zoom call.
Kayla: He lives in the apartment building and we could meet up outside.
Counselor: That sounds great. Who else?
Kayla: I can always call my parents, but when I do, I feel like failure. I’m an adult.
Counselor: If you’re feeling suicidal, would your parents want you to call?
Kayla: Yeah.
Counselor: Okay then. Let’s put your parents down. We can talk more later about how calling them might make you feel.
The counselor does a good job of getting Kayla to be specific about how she could connect with Monroe. Overall, Kayla doesn’t have an extensive social support network. Expanding that network will likely become an important goal for counseling.
People Whom I Can Ask Help
Counselor: This question is similar to the last one, but a little different. Instead of people who are distracting, now I’m wondering who you can turn to if you’re in crisis?
Kayla: Monroe wouldn’t be the right person for that.
Counselor: Not Monroe. But who would be right for that?
Kayla: My parents, I guess. And my aunt, Sarah. She’s always been there for me. I could call her if I need to. And my grandma.
Counselor: Good. That’s four. Your mom, your dad, your aunt Sarah, and your grandma. Are they around here, or would you call or text them?
Kayla: My parents and aunt live close by, but we’d probably just Facetime because they’re older I don’t want them to get COVID. My grandma lives in Minnesota.
While generating lists, it’s useful to draw clients into being even more specific than illustrated in this exchange. For example, as Kayla identifies people to call, getting specific about texting or calling, where the person might be, and what to do if there’s no answer, is good practice. Role playing a call or text can be useful, because rehearsing behaviors make them more likely to occur.
Mental Health Professionals or Agencies to Contact
Counselor: How about professionals or agencies that you can call if you’re in a crisis?
Kayla: I don’t have anyone.
Counselor: Wait. You need to put me here. I should be on the list. I can be available for short calls Sunday through Thursday evenings up until 9pm.
Kayla: Okay.
Counselor: And there’s 9-1-1, right? You can always call 9-1-1. In an emergency, that’s what you do. There’s also a new suicide hotline number, 9-8-8. I’m going to write that number down too. You don’t have to call any number, but it’s good to have them just in case you do want to call for professional help during a crisis. The other thing to remember about calling hotlines is that you may get someone you don’t like or don’t connect with. If that happens, keep trying, but also, jot down a few notes so you can tell me about it.
In the preceding exchange, the counselor offers to be a limited option. Whether you provide a personal contact number is up to you. Whatever you do, spell it out in your informed consent and have boundaries around the times when communications with you are acceptable. Because calling hotlines may or may not feel helpful, empowering Kayla to critique her hotline experience and then report it to the counselor might increase her willingness to call.
How Can I Make My Environment Safe?
Counselor: This last question has to do with how you can make your environment safe. We’ve talked about various things, like how you can cope and who you can call. Now we need to talk about whether there’s anything dangerous in your home, anything that could be used to kill yourself if you were suddenly suicidal.
Kayla: Yeah. Well I bought a hand-gun last year. That’s how I would do it.
Counselor: Right. Thanks for telling me about the gun. Can I just tell you what I’m thinking right now?
Kayla: Sure.
Counselor: With guns and suicide, there are two good options. One is for you to give it to someone for now, until you’re feeling better. The other is for you to safely store the gun or get a trigger lock. I’m just being totally honest with you about this. The reason we should get your gun locked up or given to your parents or someone else, is because most of the time, people are intensely suicidal for only 5 or 10 or maybe 30 minutes. During that intense time, people can do things they later regret. Most people who make a suicide attempt don’t make another attempt. It’s usually a one-time thing. My main goal is for you to be safe.
Kayla: But I’m not planning to use the gun or anything.
Counselor: Right. That’s great. But let’s say your Aunt Sarah was suicidal and she had a gun, would you be willing to keep it for her if it made her safer?
Kayla: Of course I would.
Counselor: So, whether it’s you or your Aunt Sarah, we want to make sure suicide doesn’t happen because of one terrible moment.
The preceding is an example of psychoeducation around suicidality and safety planning. If you have a good rapport and connection with your client, the psychoeducation is likely to be well-received. If your rapport and connection is less good, then you’ll either need to work on the relationship, or take a more directive and authoritative role to promote your client’s safety.
Counselor: All right. I’ve written down your ideas for the safety plan. Now, I’m going to scan it and send it to you through our secure portal. As we’ve already discussed, we’re going to make a bigger plan for your counseling. But in the meantime, we need to keep you safe so we can do the counseling. Right now, you’ve got this safety plan you can use, and we can revise it if we need to. Okay?
Kayla: Okay.
Counselor: Kayla, thank you very much for working with me on this safety plan. I think we made a good plan together.
Kayla: Me too. I guess I won’t throw it in the trash.
Counselor: You’re pretty funny.
Please excuse any typos or bad grammar. The preceding is a pre-published (and pre-copyedited) version from my computer. To check out and possibly purchase the whole darn book, you can go here: https://imis.counseling.org/store/detail.aspx?id=78174
As many of you know, the class generated a pretty cool song playlist. Typically, I select a song from the playlist, download it into my powerpoint, and start the music at 12:55pm. I say typically in that optimistic—see the glass half-full—sort of way, because, in reality, sometimes I struggle to get the music video to play, other times I start it a bit late (and begin to hear my Zooming students query, “What’s happening? Where’s the music?”), and still other times I go rogue and pick an off-list song that I happen to think fits the topic perfectly.
Last week, before we explored spirituality and forgiveness, I couldn’t resist playing “Heart of the Matter” by Don Henley . . . and now I can’t stop the tune and lyrics in my head . . . “Forgiveness, forgiveness, even if, even if, you don’t love me anymore.” For your immediate listening pleasure, here’s the Henley music link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rxni_Icyjj8&list=RDRxni_Icyjj8&start_radio=1&t=213
Usually I consider it best practice to keep my camera and microphone off during the opening music. You can imagine why. Holding on to the small shreds of respect that I’ve not yet squandered seems like good judgment, because if I let go, things might look like this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W0Nju66rif4&feature=youtu.be
After the opening music I burst into the Zoom scene with energetic and pithy commentary designed to get everyone focused in on our topic of the day. Then, after a few orienting announcements, I send students into Zoom break-out rooms where they ask and answer the questions: “What do you remember from our last class” and “What about our last class seemed important to you and your life?”
My sense—based on our immediate debriefing after the break-out rooms—is that some students are finding joy in their five-minute one-on-one Q & A time. However, recently I heard from a few students that they particularly dislike the Zoom break-out experience. This leads me to a conundrum (why are there so many conundrums?). Should I continue with the opening class break-out rooms, or should I find another pedagogical strategy? Please enlighten me on whether you think I should continue with the break-out rooms or find a suitable alternative.
Following the break-out rooms and debriefing, I (sometimes accompanied by Rita), launch into lecture content. We talked about spirituality for three class meetings, and have also hit gratitude, kindness, cognitive methods for dealing with pesky negative thoughts, and much more. In order to not completely bore anyone, I shift in and out of the powerpoint slides, inserting side commentaries, forcing students to imagine their part of research studies, and facilitating experiential activities. My favorite two activities (so far) were having students engage in an on-camera Gestalt two-chair with themselves (the visuals were hilarious) . . . and having everyone shout out the word “fail” over and over again for 60 seconds. The “fail” activity is based on research on deconstructing particular words so they lose their power over us, and begin just sounding like funny sounds. The best part of that activity was having students report back that when they yelled “fail” repeatedly into their computers, their roommates thought they were having serious existential meltdowns.
Class usually closes with a large group discussion, during which I’m humbled by the depth and breadth of student commentary. On occasion, I’ve pushed quieter students to comment, and in every case, they’ve delivered. I’d share some examples, but the student comments are theirs to share. Let me just say, on their behalf, it’s good to listen to students.
Class ends with a flurry of good-byes, as well as expressions of gratitude and affection.
Although I’m not completely certain students are feeling the joy, I can say with confidence that I am. I’m loving the experience and deeply appreciating how often my students are making the Zoom version of happiness class . . . magical.
Although automated quiz grading is awesome, two of your 25 quiz items need manual grading.
Click on item 24 of Student 1, to initiate manual grading.
Scroll everywhere without finding any place to manually enter grade.
Scroll again.
Find link to “manual override”
Click on manual override.
Enter grade.
Look for “save” button.
Notice that the Moodle screen doesn’t quite fit your laptop screen.
Begin muttering.
Plug laptop into larger external screen.
Move visual to larger screen.
Click on “save changes.”
Feel satisfaction from effective Moodle problem-solving.
Notice that nothing happens.
Swear.
Try clicking on next item that needs manual override.
Notice that nothing happens.
Swear again.
Click on item heading (in hopes of accessing ALL ungraded items)
Notice that instead of taking you into the item, Moodle takes you back to the whole list of student quiz scores.
Scroll sideways to re-locate items to grade.
Notice that item 24 for Student 1 IS NOW GRADED!
Smile to yourself at your Moodle success.
Follow identical process to grade item 24 for Student 2.
Notice the process no longer works.
Move to F-word in profanity cache.
Search “How to override an individual quiz item” in Google.
Almost find the right answer.
Try using the almost right answer.
Fail.
Continue with F-bombs, now in close combination with Moodle.
Write email to University IT help, trying not to type F-Moodle as Subject Line.
Wait.
Get tired of waiting.
Try grading again.
Notice that Moodle no longer recognizes you as having grading privileges.
Give yourself grading privileges.
Begin grading again.
Begin wishing you had used crayons to administer and grade quiz.
Step away from Moodle.
Begin an email invoicing Moodle or IT or the Universe for your lost time.
Delete email.
Consider describing your problems with Moodle in your next email to students, because you need to apologize to them for the delay in quiz-grading.
Delete paragraph of email to students where you described all your Moodle problems.
Send email.
Realize that Moodle timed out while you were composing your email, and consequently your email did not send.
Realize (again, because this has happened before) that Moodle has no automatic back-up for emails and consequently you have to re-write what was likely the most eloquent email you’ve ever written.
Recall that you had previously sworn to yourself to never again write a long email in Moodle.
Exercise risk management by stepping away from the computer.
Consider resigning from the University because of continued problems with Moodle, Qualtrics, Box, and repeated difficulties recalling your passwords.
Recognize, through a finely honed capacity for self-awareness and self-reflection, that you need to take a nap before engaging in any rash decision-making.
Take a nap.
Awake refreshed and optimistic.
Consider logging into Moodle.
Procrastinate, hoping Moodle will upgrade itself by the time you’ve finished writing a snarky blog about Moodle.
Recently someone mistook me for an Adlerian. This got me thinking, “Maybe I am an Adlerian?” Then again, if you look at the history of counseling and psychotherapy, most of us are Adlerians. At one presentation I attended back when we attended those things, the presenters started with, “In the beginning, there was Adler.”
As a Happy Birthday tribute to Alfred Adler, below is an excerpt from our Adlerian theories chapter. There’s much more, of course, like, for example, what Adlerian theory would have to say about the Super Bowl.
Happy Birthday Dr. Adler.
Historical Context
Freud and Adler met in 1902. According to Mosak and Maniacci (1999), Adler published a strong defense of Freud’s Interpretation of Dreams, and consequently Freud invited Adler over “on a Wednesday evening” for a discussion of psychological issues. “The Wednesday Night Meetings, as they became known, led to the development of the Psychoanalytic Society” (p. 3).
Adler was his own man with his own ideas before he met Freud. Prior to their meeting he’d published his first book, Healthbook for the Tailor’s Trade (Adler, 1898). In contrast to Freud, much of Adler’s medical practice was with the working poor. Early in his career, he worked extensively with tailors and circus performers.
In February 1911, Adler did the unthinkable (Bankart, 1997). As president of Vienna’s Psychoanalytic Society, he read a highly controversial paper, “The Masculine Protest,” at the group’s monthly meeting. It was at odds with Freudian theory. Instead of focusing on biological and psychological factors and their influence on excessively masculine behaviors in males and females, Adler emphasized culture and socialization (Carlson & Englar-Carlson, 2017). He claimed that women occupied a less privileged social and political position because of social coercion, not physical inferiority. Further, he noted that some women who reacted to this cultural situation by choosing to dress and act like men were suffering, not from penis envy, but from a social-psychological condition he referred to as the masculine protest. The masculine protest involved overvaluing masculinity to the point where it drove men and boys to give up and become passive or to engage in excessive aggressive behavior. In extreme cases, males who suffered from the masculine protest began dressing and acting like girls or women.
The Vienna Psychoanalytic Society members’ response to Adler was dramatic. Bankart (1997) described the scene:
After Adler’s address, the members of the society were in an uproar. There were pointed heckling and shouted abuse. Some were even threatening to come to blows. And then, almost majestically, Freud rose from his seat. He surveyed the room with his penetrating eyes. He told them there was no reason to brawl in the streets like uncivilized hooligans. The choice was simple. Either he or Dr. Adler would remain to guide the future of psychoanalysis. The choice was the members’ to make. He trusted them to do the right thing. (p. 130)
Freud likely anticipated the outcome. The group voted for Freud to lead them. Adler left the building quietly, joined by the Society’s vice president, William Stekel, and five other members. They moved their meeting to a local café and established the Society for Free Psychoanalytic Research. The Society soon changed its name to the Society for Individual Psychology. This group believed that social, familial, and cultural forces are dominant in shaping human behavior. Bankart (1997) summarized their perspective: “Their response to human problems was characteristically ethical and practical—an orientation that stood in dramatic contrast to the biological and theoretical focus of psychoanalysis” (p. 130).
Adler’s break from Freud gives an initial glimpse into his theoretical approach. Adler identified with common people. He was a feminist. These leanings reflect the influences of his upbringing and marriage. They reveal his compassion for the sick, oppressed, and downtrodden. Before examining Adlerian theoretical principles, let’s note what he had to say about gender politics well over 90 years ago:
All our institutions, our traditional attitudes, our laws, our morals, our customs, give evidence of the fact that they are determined and maintained by privileged males for the glory of male domination. (Adler, 1927, p. 123)
Raissa Epstein may have had a few discussions with her husband, exerting substantial influence on his thinking (Santiago-Valles, 2009).
To help practitioners focus on wellness within the whole person, Rita and I have been writing about seven life dimensions as they pertain to suicide assessment and treatment. Although treatments for individuals who are suicidal should focus on suicide, it’s also true that there’s much more to whole person in the room than suicidality. The seven dimensions we’re using include the following:
The emotional dimension
The cognitive dimension
The interpersonal dimension
The physical dimension
The cultural/spiritual dimension
The behavioral dimension
The contextual dimension
The visual excerpt from chapter 4 included with this post (above) focuses on the emotional dimension. In chapter 4 we discuss how to use empathy to emotionally connect with clients, but also on a variety of strategies for helping clients (and students) develop strengths, resiliency, and wellness within the emotional dimension.
John Sommers-Flanagan 