Therapist Spotlight Part 2: Asasia Richardson

In the first part of this spotlight interview, I asked what you think is important for your clients to know.  You told me you want people to know that you want them to do well.  You said, "I want them to overcome and to reach their goals. I want them to be the best version of themselves!"  

That's right.  [laughter]

What else do you think people should know more generally about therapy? Has your perspective on this changed?

To be honest, I don't think my perspective has changed all that much.  I just continue to grow and absorb more as I fine-tune my perspective...

Lately, though, I've been sitting with the value of therapy.  I've been really thinking a lot about the value for any person to just have a space where they can be.

Therapy as a space where people can be?

Yes, there's a lot more to mental health than diagnosing and treating "diagnosis x" or "pathology y."  I think it’s more about creating a place for people to have a space…just to process.  To process whatever it is they’re going through, or whatever it is that's going on...even if it's just “their everyday."

What do you think is so hard or so tricky about ‘being’ or having a space outside the therapy room?  What gets in the way of that?

What a loaded question. I feel like there are so many answers to that.  What's coming up for me is that we, as a society, we're typically not structured in a way that gives space for that—a space for being. There are typically strong ideas around 'what life should like,' and 'what our milestones are,' and 'what makes a good person,' and 'what makes a successful person.'  And I think when you end up in that normative structure—of what you should and shouldn’t be doing—it can be hard to take a step back and really think beyond those roles.

I think we spend a lot of time focused on roles, what kind of roles we want to take on, even something like a career, right?  When you're a little kid, everyone asks what you want to be, so it already structures this kind of attitude. As if, “Life is about what you become instead of what you are”—or who you are rather. 

Yea, "What do you want to be?" implies that you are not... 

...that you're not there... 

...or that you are not, at least not yet.

[laughter]

So you're talking, in part, about the careerist impulse?  About careerism?

I think that's part of it. I think there's a lot more though.

What else comes to mind?    

I think there's a vulnerability as well.  To be would mean to be vulnerable, which means that you're opening yourself up to judgment—to others' opinions about yourself.  

I think, honestly, that sometimes 'to be' means that it's going to suck.  Sometimes it hurts to be.  Sometimes it doesn't feel good.  Typically, everybody wants to keep things as smooth as possible; we tend to avoid pain.  But part of sitting with life or sitting with yourself is actually moving through the difficulty of it.

It rings true.  What comes to mind specifically for you?  I mean, a couple things come to mind for me.

What comes to mind for you?

Well, you know, sexuality, gender, race.  The ones in the news.  'Driving While Black,' for instance.  They're not new, but they're news.

Right, talk about being.  White supremacy, it's always been in this country.  But I think more people are seeing it and reckoning in a way that they haven't.  And, in therapy, for clinicians and for people who go to therapy, it is always going to be in the room.  Even if you don't say it, it's always in the room.  Even if the people are two white people, it's in the room. Something has to be done about that.  

A few weeks ago I encountered a study that was really surprising to me. Well ok, it wasn't that surprising. The study found that Black people had more positive views on mental health care than white people did. That surprised me because you often hear that ‘mental health isn't readily discussed in the Black community.’  But then, the study found that after the two groups had started therapy, it switched!  Black people had less favorable views of mental health care.  That was really upsetting.  As a clinician, and everyone else in this field, we need to do something to ensure that that's not happening.  

I think back to your ideal for therapy—your vision of what you do—that you’re creating a space for people to be.  If people are entering the therapeutic space, and they're not able to be in a way that's satisfactory to them, it's a profound failure.

Exactly.

Do you have a sense of what's driving that switch?

I’m sure it varies, but I think a lot of it concerns whether people are feeling validated or invalidated, particularly with respect to the experience of race or racism in this country.

For instance, I know I'm racially ambiguous.  I'm biracial, and I'm Black.  If I'm seeing a therapist and I describe an experience with discrimination, their impulse might be to relativize my perspective.  I think it's an impulse a lot of therapists have.  Well-intentioned or not, it can be really hurtful. Therapists want to explore the other side, how others involved might have experienced an encounter.  In the spirit of ‘reality-testing,’ they might imply, “Well, maybe that other person wasn't being racist. Maybe it wasn't about that.” They might think they're being helpful, but the outcome is opposite.  Often they risk invalidating someone's experience by assuming the client doesn't have a clear perspective on the situation.

They negate the client’s experience.  How do you go about remedying this situation?

Well, I really value transparency.  So sometimes I might say, 'Hey, I know we're in this space. We're talking about issues x, y, & z.  I think our experiences and our perspectives matter, and I notice something we have in common (or it could be a difference) is our race."  And then, opening that door, "What does that mean?"  

I think that's easier said than done, because we're taught not to ask those questions.  But I think it's important to open the door.  "What does this mean that we're in this room together?  What does this look like?"  And, like I said, it's not just race.  I think it applies to gender.  If I'm a woman, and I'm working with a male client, it can have value.  "Hey, I'm a woman.  I know I have different experiences than you.  Talk about this with me.  What's it like to be having this conversation with someone who's different from you in that way?"  And when I work with women, there's almost this shared, unspoken awareness: "I know you know what I'm talking about here."  But it's important to say it more explicitly, I think.

What's important about making this explicit?

When something's invisible, it can feel like it's just not there—but it's there. It's there! [laughter]  By making it visible, it opens up a whole new door to explore.  What does it mean?  What power does it have?  What power does it not have?  What role has it played in our lives?  

And, talking more broadly, if we're talking about real social change, you can't change something you won't talk about.  I’ve been in a restorative justice group, it’s been life-changing.  And last week, one of the facilitators said, "You can't heal what you won't reveal." 

I think that’s exactly it. You can't heal something that's still hidden.  If we want to make the biggest difference, even on the individual level, it starts with acknowledging what’s here among us, and saying the unsayable.