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Opening Ourselves to Connectivity: An Interview with Kate Maher, LMFT

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Opening Ourselves to Connectivity: An Interview with Kate Maher, LMFT

For our ‘Humans of MHT” series this month, we are featuring an interview between Kate Maher, LMFT, and Jennifer Jackson, MSW. In this interview, Jennifer speaks with Kate about her perspective of humanness and how that plays out in her work as a clinician. Kate shares about the necessity of embracing connectivity amid struggles and situations that lead to grief, sadness, and confusion.

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Below you will find the interview transcript.


Jennifer Jackson: Hi, Kate.

 Kate Maher: Hi, Jennifer.

 JJ: Good to see you.

 KM: You too. I'm looking forward to this.

 JJ: So today we get to talk about some things about humanness and what that means to us. But first…We started about the same time, about a year ago.

 KM: Yeah, we did. We’re coming up on a year anniversary. So kind of growing together in this. All those growing pains.

 JJ: So today I thought maybe I could share what the topics are and then you can kind of start wherever you are inspired. Yeah?

 KM: Love it.

 JJ: So the question I have for you is what humanness means to you? How does humanness show up in your work as a clinician? And what poem have you read that speaks to you currently and why?

KM: I think I'll start with part three because it's been kind of marinating on this topic since knowing that we were going to be able to hang out today and explore this. And it's not a poem that I've read recently, but it is a poem that I hold very close to my heart. It's called “Individuation” by Avah Pevlor Johnson. And it is written by Avah Pevlor Johnson as the mother of a playwright, Cindy Lou Johnson, who wrote this play called Brilliant Traces. And so at the beginning of the play is this poem. And within the play, without going into the whole story, it's the coming together of two very scarred, grieving souls. Two people come together in this cabin in the middle of a blizzard, in the middle of the wilderness of Alaska. And they are one of them running away from life, and the other one is hiding from life. And throughout the play, you're brought together through their connectiveness and essentially movement towards healing and growth together as these two complete strangers. So that is the crux of the play's narrative, Brilliant Traces. And the poem is, like I said, written by the mother of the playwright. And I'll just read the poem. It starts with,

If I must be wrung through the paradox,
broken into wholeness,
wrung me around the moon;
pelt me with particles from the dark side

Fling me into space;
hide me in a black hole.

Let me dance with devils on dead stars.
Let my scars lead brilliant traces,

For my highborn soul seeks its hell -
in high places.

And the phrase let my scars leave brilliant traces really resonates with me. And Brilliant Traces is the title of the play. I've been carrying that with me since college when I actually first saw this play. And as you know, but others might not, my first life was as an actor and a performer and a thespian and a theater nerd where I feel my immediate hunger for understanding the human condition got to be totally explored and satiated through play and story and connectivity and making meaning, essentially, of our individual personal traumas and also the stories and traumas of those before us. When I think back to classical theater and these stories that keep being told repeatedly, we get to relive as performers.

So all in a roundabout way of how the poem continues to speak to me in the here and now as I've arrived as becoming a therapist and moving into a different field. Above all, I feel it just really speaks to seeking a higher ground when we are in the throes of immense turmoil and confusion and struggle and that it's not so much just about learning how to deal with the struggle or just to survive the struggle, it's also about finding the portals in the midst of the struggle where we get to connect with beauty and grace and empathy and connectivity. So that last line of the poem, for my high born soul seeks its hell in high places. If I must be thrown into this world, let me do it with just fierce abandon and bravery. And if I'm going to be flung around, which I feel like we all can relate to the past two and a half years of just dealing with unknown and unpredictability and very unprecedented times, that let's just go for it and keep opening ourselves up to the unknown, which I imagine is what that poem kind of invokes.
 

It’s not so much just about learning how to deal with the struggle or just to survive the struggle, it’s also about finding the portals in the midst of the struggle where we get to connect with beauty and grace and empathy and connectivity.
— Kate Maher, LMFT

Yeah, so multiple layers there. And like I said, the play itself is one of my favorite plays. It's the story of how people rise above and make meaning of their sadness and grief. And I wholeheartedly feel like that's not possible without connectivity.

 

So the second part of the question around how I find this humanness showing up in our clinical work is through connectivity and through the meeting of minds and the meeting of experiences together. And it's been such an incredible journey moving away from being a performer on stage and really moving into a really unique sacred space where somebody comes in and sits in front of you and shares themselves with themselves. And we get to as therapists, we get to be along that journey too. We get to be wrung through that paradox too. I think that's a real gift and privilege and challenge and brings me back to that connectivity that I think is so powerfully necessary in humanness.

JJ: Absolutely. That's such a beautiful way to look at it.

KM: Thanks. I wish I wrote it. It doesn't seem to die away. I never seem to outgrow it.

JJ: Each phase of life I would imagine you’d able to come back to it and find ways to connect new meaning.

KM: Absolutely. That's the hope. Yeah. And I'm trying to think of anything else that comes together when I think of what humanness means to me. And I keep trying for the journey towards curiosity. Unfortunately, I'm a little more organized at wanting answers, which I think is part of humanness. But there's a growing edge within me that I continue to try to search with the perspective of just being curious. And that the edge. You never actually arrive to the cliff. It just keeps going and going, you know, with curiosity around why we are feeling, how we are feeling, what has carved into us, what has left scars and brilliant traces and how those keep expanding within ourselves. Yeah, I think that's kind of where I landed so far.

Unfortunately, I’m a little more organized at wanting answers, but there’s a growing edge within me that I continue to try to search with the perspective of just being curious. And that is the edge. You never actually arrive at the cliff. It just keeps going and going, you know, with curiosity around asking why we are feeling, how we are feeling, what has carved into us, what has left scars and brilliant traces, and how those keep expanding within us.
— Kate Maher

 

I guess I'm thinking more too, around how it shows up in clinical work when I find myself wanting to arrive at answers in the room with clients, probably so much so because I imagine it would provide comfort and peace. And that's my own also growing edge as a therapist, that really there's healing to be made and connection to be fostered without answers.

JJ: And I would imagine as a performer, that curiosity about humanity and the depth is just such a part of you. 

KM: Yes. Especially with theater. I never really crossed over into the film and TV where it felt like very solidified. There was a cut print. It was theater, it was alive every night. You didn't know who was going to drop what. You didn't know if a light was going to go out. You didn't know it was this living, breathing organism that only was going to exist at one time. And if you weren't at that right moment, at that right theater seat, in the right perspective view of the actors on stage, you were never going to have the same performance ever again. And you can never retrieve it again. It just passes by and you take with it what you can. So, yeah, I think that it's something that is ever reaching the targets, always moving, never arrived at one answer or one way.

JJ: Always seeking, always curious. That's kind of a beautiful way to leave that. Always curiosity, the scars leave traces, and and what we make of it, the meaning. I love your idea of connectedness with humanity. And thank you so much for sharing all of that.

KM: Thank you for asking those questions, Jennifer.


Kate Maher, LMFT, provides a culturally sensitive and affirmative space for individuals and couples in all stages of life. She believes that engaging in our own healing work can provide a new state of consciousness for effective change and growth. Kate believes in using an integrative approach tailored to her client’s needs and values their input in deciding how best to work together in the room. She also works creatively with dreams, symbols, and images that can help her clients tap into, as well as awaken, the inner wise parts of their psyche.


Jennifer Jackson, MSW, creates a compassionate, non-judgmental space to collaborate on client goals. With an integrative therapy approach, she fosters a connection where meaningful change can occur, allowing clients to live with more ease and to move forward in life empowered by strengths, both old and new. She approaches the work with cultural humility and an anti-oppressive framework that supports client intersectionality, particularly for those who identify as BIPOC, individuals in the LGBTQ+ community, women, and birthing people in all stages of their perinatal journey from preconception to postpartum.

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Reckoning with Racism / Turning To Love: An Interview with Manon Voice, Poet & Activist

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Reckoning with Racism / Turning To Love: An Interview with Manon Voice, Poet & Activist

....coming into my own blackness has been such a journey. And it’s been such a trying journey. It’s been a difficult journey that the process of decolonizing your own mind from living in a society where white is the norm, where blackness is seen as deviant, where blackness is seen as inferior, the journey and the courage that one undergoes to reclaim their sense of identity – so me as an African American woman reclaiming my sense of identity that has been systemically and very intentionally in this country oppressed, that has been dismissed, that has been erased, is such a revolutionary act of courage.
— Manon Voice

Taz Morgan: I’m so delighted to be speaking with Manon Voice. She is a poet, hip hop emcee, spoken word artist, and social justice activist from Indianapolis. She’s also a friend to MHT. She joined us at our first annual retreat last October and basically performed for us one night and led us through some exercises to help us get reflective about love and community. We thought you’d be a great person to interview. We kind of want to continue the conversation around race. In December one of my colleagues Chelsea interviewed a psychoanalyst Dr. Lynne Jacobs. She writes a lot about whiteness in the therapy world. And we thought you, Manon, would have, I don’t know, just help us make this conversation interesting. To continue the dialogue. So yea, I guess we’ll start from there!

Manon Voice: Thank you for having me. I am very grateful to be a friend of MHT, the group there. I was very delighted to be among you all and begin a beautiful relationship – so very, very glad to now be reconnecting a couple months later. I had such a good experience with you all in the beautiful mountains of Idyllwild, California. I had some very transformative experiences there. Even as I was sharing with you all, there were things going on within me, that I’m even just unpacking in my own journey and in my own life. So yes, I’m very, very grateful for that experience with you that just began a beautiful relationship and friendship. So thank you for having me.

TM: Yea, thank you. So I guess I’m curious about how your work, or how you see poets contributing to changing narratives, changing conversations on race. We, MHT, is a predominantly white practice, white women. And you know, we’re trying to contend with that. I think it can feel, you know, I can feel nervous, like I don’t want to make a mistake. I’m thinking, how can we make the next best step in addressing privilege. We really value poetry at our practice. Just wondering how your work intersects with these ideas or these questions.

MV: So, I’ll sort of start with you had asked me about poetry. The poetic lineage, which I always like to pay homage to, is that of African American poets in this country and they start as far back as Phyllis Wheatly who was actually a slave.

TM:  Did you say Phyllis? Phyllis Wheatly?

MV: Yes…and she actually published a book of poetry and then was taken to trial for it because they couldn’t believe that she could actually write as well as she did. But she eventually bought her way to freedom because she was so profound and her poetry was beautiful. So, we can talk about people like that. And also people like Paul Laurence Dunbar who has a famous poem We Wear the Mask and The Caged Bird - Maya Angelou borrows from that poem. He was living during the Reconstruction Era and talks about the realities of African Americans struggling through post-slavery society. And then we can go a little further up to the Harlem Renaissance, and we can talk about poets like Langston Hughes and James Weldon Johnson and they were expressing the realities of what it felt like for African Americans at that time to be living at a time when there was such intense racial upheaval, especially living in Harlem at the time, and there were the race riots that were going on in 1919. So they were talking about the brutalities of what African Americans were experiencing at that time. And what it was like to feel like a second-class citizen. We can go a little further up to poets like [Gwendolyn] Brooks - her work talked about the migration of 20 million African Americans from the south at that time; who traveled north and west and east to make better lives for themselves. Then we can go a little further up and talk about the Black Arts Movement, right alongside the Civil Rights Movement. These poets were Nikki Giovanni and Sonia Sanchez and Amiri Baraka and they were talking about that time of also racial unrest. That time where they were willing to take a different stand. They were willing to claim their own power. They were willing to celebrate blackness in this new kind of riveting way. And they were also activists. They spoke the language, but they also walked the walk. And that took them expressing themselves through the art was a vehicle of revolution. It was not separate. It was something that was very integral. And I look at my path as also being very, very similar to those poets who I consider my ancestors who I credit my journey and the work I’m doing now to the blueprint that they left. Audre Lorde, a beautiful black feminist queer writer, talks about how poetry is not a luxury - especially for African Americans, but particularly for African American women. And that’s who she was talking about. The use of language and how we reckon with what’s going on in the world through words, through art, is a powerful medium. It’s a powerful medium that helps us stay grounded with what we know to be true about who we are when we live in a world that wants to denigrate that, that wants to despise our existence. It is a way of staying sane, of looking in the mirror and claiming our own identity, claiming our own sense of blackness, our own sense of queerness, our own sense of womanhood. And then it is also a way to speak truth to power and to confront the systems and to confront the systemic problems that we are faced with. I do view my art as activism and that’s not separate. The ethos of my work...I always like to say that I consider myself a little bit of a poetic journalist, if I can say that. Really looking at the issues that we face, looking at the past, the present, and the future, and looking at the issues that we are being confronted with, especially when it comes to social justice issues. But also thinking about who we can be. So I want my work to always have some hope and to be holding out for hope about who we can be. This is where we are...we have to be honest with ourselves if we’re going to make changes. We have to be able to face what’s uncomfortable, what’s ugly. (Audio disrupted) One of my favorite writers, Toni Morrison, and I’m paraphrasing this genius of a woman, she basically says “This is no time to crouch in fear.” And then she says “We do language, and that’s how civilization heals. That’s how we keep moving forward.” And so I see my work as being in that kind of schema.

TM:  There’s just a... I don’t know...there’s humility in what you speak of in paying homage to this lineage...this love for the people who came before you or your ancestors.

MV: Absolutely, yes. 

TM: That just seems like an important element of your activism, or that idea of an artist being an activist – knowing where…how you got to where you are, where you come from. My introduction to you was through watching your video where you’re performing Dark Matter. Could you just talk a little more about that? You know, “Blackness is a Miracle” is a line that’s repeated. I’m so curious as to how you birthed that, how it came into being, what it means to you.  

MV: Sure. Well, it’s definitely and unequivocally a celebration of blackness, an elevation of blackness. There’s a lot of, I think, probably mysticism that is also sort of threaded through there as I’m talking about how everything starts, right, the world as we know it, or the world as we comprehend it, how everything sort of began in darkness and the world was formed from that. So I’m sort of using that as this theme about everything comes from the dark womb, how everything comes from blackness, and how civilization as we know it began in Africa, right? What we call the mother country, the mother home, that’s where the cradle of civilization began - somewhere in Northern Africa. So we have started with blackness, we have come out of the darkness of the universe, being a dark people, and how we have, in this country particularly, when we talk about whiteness there is the contrast, this illusion that has been created to benefit one group of people over another. The premise of that was that darkness, dark skin was demonic, was of the devil, was bad, and that white people, just for having white skin, a white complexion, that they are superior. That white people are superior based on just that, which is just a huge and a grave deception. Living in this country as a black person of African descent, who, you know I think about - I think I talked a bit about this – my great grandmother being a sharecropper and being from Mississippi, and Mississippi was one of the states that was one of the worst record keeping states. In fact, there were people in my family who thought that their birthday was one day, and then maybe found out later. So, I’ve been cut off from a lot of my history. From my own personal experience, coming into my own blackness has been such a journey. And it’s been such a trying journey. It’s been a difficult journey that the process of decolonizing your own mind from living in a society where white is the norm, where blackness is seen as deviant, where blackness is seen as inferior, the journey and the courage that one undergoes to reclaim their sense of identity – so me as an African American woman reclaiming my sense of identity that has been systemically and very intentionally in this country oppressed, that has been dismissed, that has been erased, is such a revolutionary act of courage. And it’s a necessary and revolutionary act of courage that every day, when I see myself, when I look in the mirror, that I reclaim my own identity. That I reclaim my own beauty. That I reclaim my own lineage. That I reclaim my own heritage as a black person in this country. And that that blackness is beautiful, that that blackness is brilliant. What I do know about where we come from as African Americans is a history of genius, and it’s a history of exploits, and it’s a history of miracles, and it’s a history of people making contributions to history, people making contributions to civilization in ways that we are still studying and trying to figure out. So that poem really came out of that, that blackness is a miracle, to live in this country every day and to survive it as a black person is miraculous, I feel. And I don’t think that I’m alone in that sentiment. When you exist within a system where there is, not only just a threat of physical violence, but there’s the psychological warfare that’s going on everyday.

TM:  Yeah, it’s psychic warfare too.

MV: Yeah, it’s been necessary to look at the physical violence and the physical brutality, it’s been so necessary to look at that, but what really cracks, I think, at the soul, even beyond the body, is the psychological warfare that is endured day to day to day to day, the microaggressions that are endured. You know, at this point in my life I have worked many many jobs. And I’ve worked for people who claim to be liberals and claim to be inclusive and culturally competent who had no idea of some of the distasteful language that they were using around people they deemed other than them, and the way that we survived that, and the way that we endured that, and the way that we sometimes feel like how much – the way we have to make daily decisions about what do we fight or what do we not. 

TM: Right.

MV: Yeah, and so it’s like, what do I put my energy into fighting today because my coworker just said this, or my boss just said this, and even though it hurts, but I still have to keep my job, maybe I have children at home, I have bills due so I can’t quit…

TM: Right, or the taxing nature of being like “I’m becoming the representative of everyone that looks like me.”

MV: Yeah, and you know sometimes it can just be, aside from that, that people have not reckoned with their own sense of othering others, you know?

TM: Yeah.

MV: And so, you know, they don’t realize some of the harmful things that they’re saying, they don’t realize some of the harmful practices that they are carrying out that are really harmful to the spirits of people of color and of marginalized people. And I’ve existed within that. I can tell you I have two friends that don’t know each other - this is really interesting because they worked for the same organization and they were in the same role as the person who was responsible for diversity and inclusion, and these were two black women, and both of them left. And both of them when they told me why they left, they really had almost identical stories. Like how they were sort of used as puppets for this organization to appear that this organization was diverse and inclusive, but when they challenged some of the decisions, some of the policies that were going on within the organization, then the powers-that-be refused. They just wanted to kind of look diverse and look inclusive on the face, we wanna put you on the flyers, and we’re gonna have you at the events as the black face, but we really don’t want to do the root work, you know?

TM: Yeah, yeah.

MV: So, we’re coming up against, and the challenge that we have is the performative justice vs doing the actual root work.

TM: Right and I think that’s why at MHT, we’re trying to ask ourselves what that work -  real work - would look like. That’s what we’re trying to ask ourselves internally at this point. I don’t know. I think some of what you were saying earlier about having the courage, or to kind of get out of these illusions, I mean some of what you were saying reminds me a little bit about the courage to start going to therapy - to kind of face things about yourself that feel scary or ugly or whatever. I’m trying to put words to, I don’t know, we’re just trying to figure out what kind of conversations do we want to be having, and how to walk the walk and not just think just in general. There’s this movement in the psychotherapy world to take stands on social issues – whether it’s therapists or an organization saying separating kids from their parents at the border has detrimental effects or whatever. 

I truly believe that love is the strongest force in the universe. And I know how love can sound like a cop-out when we are facing really threatening issues. Everyone wants to talk about love. But I don’t cheapen love. Real love challenges us to grow. It challenges us to transform, to change, and to live up to who we can be as human beings. And I believe in that.
— Manon Voice

MV: And I think that we’ll have to talk about who, because you know we also have to reckon with access to mental healthcare. 

TM: Yeah!

MV: Talk about who in this country is able to use mental health resources and the hierarchy of who we believe deserves it even. I think that’s a conversation that we have to have, and quite unfortunately we are still wrestling with the fact that there have been a lot of people that have benefited from the system within mental healthcare services, and you know, I’m not an expert, but I do have friends that work in these fields, and I’ve also gone to therapy for years, and I know that just like very profession deserves, it has its rank in as far as how long a person has gone to school, but there’s also this conversation about so many people being left out of receiving mental health care services because of poverty, and poverty is systemic. And it’s a vicious cycle because the people who are most traumatized in this country, and are the most marginalized in this country, often feel like they don’t have access to mental health. And that is really unfortunate because of the amount of trauma that one endures day to day to day. And even when they do go to see a mental health professional, they feel like “you can’t understand…”

TM: Yeah! They feel the compounded trauma of being othered in a space where theoretically you’d be understood.

MV: Yep. I have a friend who just had a general practice where she was just sort of seeing whoever would come. And then she changed and she decided to focus on – she said “you know what, I want to make my practice focused on the most marginalized – people of color and people who are queer,” because these are the people who are undergoing a lot of trauma that is very specific to their sense of identity in this country, and who also feel marginalized when they go into their normal therapist’s office who is probably white, who they feel like can’t relate to what they’re going through. And so I do feel it is important for therapists, for white mental health practitioners and clinicians, to start having these important conversations. I am glad to hear that MHT is taking steps towards understanding that. Like I really am. And I think the tools, I think that we have tools. I think it’s a personal and it’s a spiritual journey, and it’s also a practical journey – sort of undoing your own bias, your own racism. 

TM: Yeah!

Manon Voice, Poet & Activist.png

MV: There are implicit bias classes that at least give you an access point to know that this is some biases that you have. I know where I’m from, Indianapolis, we have an undoing racism course that I know it used to be free where it’s like anybody could come. Whether that’s the board of organizations or that was just a person who just walked off the street and was just sort of interested in taking that journey. And so...I was looking at the last interview that was done with the doctor…

TM: Yeah, Lynne Jacobs, yeah.

MV: And I saw the list of books and resources that were there at the end, so there’s a lot of knowledge out there, and there are a lot of ways for people to kind of get started on taking that journey. 

TM: I know on Instagram there were a lot of people following Layla Saad who did the Me and White Supremacy workbook. And I think she now has a book. White followers were going through this course...it was about implicit bias. There is a real self-reflective thing that is being called for. 

MV: Yeah.

TM: What you said about language...giving voice...really naming things also resonates with my idea of psychoanalysis or psychotherapy...is the idea of “speaking the unspeakable” and giving voice to things from the unconscious. Also, you were saying that your work is hopeful. There’s hope in it, too. To close our conversation a bit....How does hope...I don’t know...What do you envision for the future of this country? Gosh, that feels like such a BIG question!

MV: We’re in a deep time of reckoning. What we are seeing and what we are experiencing....we talk about polarization and this intense socio-political climate that we’re living in where folks feel so divided; feel more separate from each other. Honestly,  I look at that because... As psychotherapists, you do the work of taking people through the journey of the subconscious, through the ego...of getting through that deeper sediment that blinds us all. And we have to get through all that ugliness sometimes. Right? And I’ve been in therapy…

TM: Right, you generally feel a lot worse before you start to feel better. 

MV: Miserable!

TM: Yeah, miserable. (Laughs).

MV: It can take a long time. You feel miserable. You are confronting your shadow. In this country, we have not done a good job. We have wanted to jump these steps when we need to go back. And we have to really….I use this term “repentant.” [We have to repent.] I know it’s gonna have a religious connotation. But when I look at the root meaning of that word, it actually means “to turn.” 

TM: Oh, wow.

MV: Yeah, making a turn. The only way to do that is to reckon with what’s been done. And we don’t want to do that as a country. Some of us do and some of us can’t help but live in that reality. The white majority in this country….the systemic oppression and the problems we have in this country stem from this idea of superiority, colonialism, and “white is right” and through that belief there were Native Americans that were decimated and displaced; there were Africans that were stolen and brought here for free labor and who built this country for hundreds of years and who are still second class citizens. We have to start from the very beginning and go back and say “Wow, this has been done. And we have been responsible.” If I’m living today, I feel like “Oh no…”

TM: Right, that idea of “it has nothing to do with me.”

MV: I think white people have to reckon with the fact that they have benefitted from a system. That reckoning has to happen. It can start small. It can start within an organization, within a church, within a neighborhood. It’s not gonna trickle down. Looking like our government now, it’s not gonna trickle down. Maybe it will make its way up. I think that sometimes….I know for sure what we are seeing is a result of what we have not been willing to deal with. There are so many of us asking: How did we get here? Why are we here? Why are things so divided? Why are things so intense? And doing that [the work of reckoning with our racist history] means doing the long, deep shadow work and that’s where it has to start -- taking that long, honest look at what’s been done and who has benefited and who has not benefited. And so, I was getting to the hope in that….

TM: I was thinking about that...Yeah, hope can be so loaded. I’m thinking of this interview that Stephen Colbert did with Ta-Nehisi Coates. Where Colbert asks Coates what he is hopeful about with his divide and polarization [in terms of race relations in the US]. And Coates said “I don’t have any hope.” I was thinking “Gosh, hope is such a loaded term. ...I love the language of repenting and turning. And I think your poetry...it’s like….there’s delight and joy and pleasure in it, too. 

MV: Thank you for that reflection. That’s honestly so important for me, Taz. It’s important for me to also be a part of beauty-making.

TM: Yeah, it’s so moving and so beautiful. It’s aesthetically beautiful. 

MV: Thank you. I truly believe that love is the strongest force in the universe. And I know how love can sound like a cop-out when we are facing really threatening issues.  Everyone wants to talk about love. But I don’t cheapen love. Real love challenges us to grow. It challenges us to transform, to change, and to live up to who we can be as human beings. And I believe in that. The reason why I get up... If I get up in the morning...existing in this world, as tragic and disheartening as it can sometimes be...The reason why I walk out my door and say hello and good morning to someone that I don’t know is because deep inside, I want to believe in the best of humanity - that we all have something divine; that we all have something in us that is truly, truly good. If we can get through this shadow energy; if we can reckon with ourselves...if we can do that true repenting and that true reconciling, then we can create a better world. To call myself a social justice activist or advocate, but then not believe it could get better, I feel like it’s counterproductive. I’m working for a future that I want for generations...when you and I are no longer here...like in 7 generations...I want them to be so further along in this conversation. All of us can commit to that day by day...whether we want to call it hope or something else. The truth is that when we work for change, that’s exactly what we are doing - we are working to create something better. Even if I don’t see it in my lifetime, Taz… I want my grandchildren’s children, children, children... to be able to see; to live in a better world; to see a world where they are not threatened; where have a sense of belonging. If I want it for them, then I have to truly want that for every human being on this earth, no matter what color they are. I have to truly want that for every human being. In my deepest heart of hearts, I really do want that. And that’s where that hope, that beauty comes in. So, at the same time I’m speaking truth, it’s also undergirded with love and hope that we can really do better as human beings. Every day we are being called to do better and to make those small decisions. It can start in your neighborhood, with your friend, with your co-workers to have those conversations that allow us to heal these deep rifts that we have. I believe it’s possible. 

TM: That feels like a good place to end, too. Again, that’s so moving. Affectively….ahhh...I can keep going. What you were saying about waking up...Like, Why wake up everyday and just be an adult?...it’s for the love of humanity. That was very moving. I wondered if you had any closing thoughts for now. Anything else on your mind?

MV: I live among beautiful people who are doing things everyday to move the notch forward. While it’s so easy to look at the news and be discouraged, you can also just look around and see….There’s a no-questions-asked food pantry in my community that just celebrated their 1-year anniversary of providing food to people without needing to ask all these questions about where you live, how much money you make, and if you deserve it. I have a friend who is doing that. And I have friends who are challenging policies that are harmful to the most marginalized. I have friends who are talking to city officials about responsible policing. I have friends who are running after school clubs to mentor young people. I have friends who are using their art to provoke dialogue around issues and who are using their art to beautify neighborhoods. My best friend is a brilliant teacher. I look around in my world and I do see the good. I think the good is contagious. The bad is too (Laughs). But the good is contagious. We can all do something. If we can look at the turning...I do see some important dialogue. We can argue about how late we are. But I do feel like we are having more dialogue about race relations in this country, at least  from my purview and my experience. And about all kinds of other issues about who benefits and who doesn’t. I think that the turmoil is part of the process. I think if we stay focused on that...I think that focus has to be really intentional, not just complacency. All of us can do something. I just want to encourage others to be part of the change and to also look around at your community to those that are doing the work and trying to help. I see you doing this...or I see you started this non-profit organization where you’re helping the homeless...Can I join the board? Or can I help spread the word? Or help in some way? Seeing the good, valuing the good, and coming alongside the good!

TM: Those are helpful, small, actionable things. I love that idea of a turn - a turn to love, a love turn. Thank you so much for your time. And for your energy and your mind and your heart.

MV: I’m happy just to share. And grateful for the work that you guys are doing there. Let’s keep healing. Let’s keep at it!


Manon Voice is a native of Indianapolis, Indiana and is a poet and writer, spoken word artist, hip-hop emcee, educator, social justice activist and practicing contemplative. Manon Voice seeks to use her art and activism to create a communal space where dialogue, transformation, discovery and inspiration can occur.


Taz MorganMA, is an Associate Marriage and Family Therapist, IMF #99714, working under the supervision of Gabrielle Taylor, PhD. She has trained in Depth-oriented psychotherapy and works with adolescents, adults, and couples. 

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Home: Ducky

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Home: Ducky

This November, MHT is participating in the Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraising Drive. The money goes to programs that support refugee families that have been resettled in the United States. In tandem with these efforts, our clinicians are writing posts reflecting on what home means to them.

This sculpted mass of cotton and fluff became a soft and portable vessel where my sense of home resided. He allowed me to take that sense of security with me wherever I went.

His name is Ducky. Not exactly the most creative choice, but it’s a fitting name considering he is an eight-inch tall plush-animal duck. His simple name aside, Ducky was my first best friend.

Now, many mature adults may think Ducky is just the sum of his parts: Cloth and stuffing. But if you were to see how I carried him with me as a child, I assure you, for a fleeting moment, you too would understand how real he is (*cough cough… I mean, was). This sculpted mass of cotton and fluff became a soft and portable vessel where my sense of home resided. He allowed me to take that sense of security with me wherever I went.

Lauren Ziel, MSW .JPG

As it turns out, I am not alone in this attachment phenomenon. Many other children develop similar attachments to inanimate objects. In fact, by eighteen months of age, 60% of children form some kind of attachment with a soft object (e.g., plush or blanket). Researchers theorize inanimate object attachment allows a child a secondary secure-base to explore; in other words, the child projects their felt sense of security with a primary caregiver(s) onto another non-living entity and thus utilizes the secondary security object to increase their range/capacity to explore and learn from their surroundings.

Ducky definitely facilitated many of my exploration efforts. There were many times when I accompanied my mother (a physician) to the hospital when she made rounds. A hospital can be a scary and overwhelming place for anyone (let alone a young child) and I always brought Ducky with me to help pass the time. While I was normally shepherded to the doctor’s lounge to play on the wheel chairs and feast on what seemed like a neverending supply of doughnuts…. on one particular occasion, I was left at the nurses’ station. With Ducky on my lap, I patiently waited. I counted the number of times red lights flashed over patient doors and I tried to psychically incept a page for Dr. Evans over the hospital intercom.

What seemed like hours passed. And just as all sense of novelty began to wane… a jar caught my eye. Within the jar, there were what appeared to be small-ish brown boogers wiggling through the water. My curiosity overwhelmed me. Manipulating Ducky’s stubby arms around the lid, I proceeded to open the jar to investigate its contents further. As it turns out, those “boogers” were medical leeches and it was not until I had placed half a dozen onto myself, Ducky, and the desk where I sat waiting, that a nurse discovered my innocent transgression and released one of the most awesome screams I had ever heard to date.

While it’s arguable if the leech fiasco enhanced my overall understanding of the world around me, it did give me an experience that I will never forget. If I hadn’t brought Ducky with me that day, I probably would have never opened that jar. In fact, if I did not have Ducky, I probably would not have done a lot of things.  I probably would have been more shy on my first day of pre-school; I might have taken longer to learn how to ride a bike; or maybe I would not have made my bed every morning so Ducky could have a neat place to sit as he waited for me to get back from school. Having a separate entity like Ducky (to both rely on and provide for) enabled me to venture out in my environment where I was tasked with maturing intellectually and emotionally.

Once the object that housed my burgeoning (but yet to be self-avowed) curiosity, Ducky now lives as a symbol of home – that intangible place I can come back to when the world around me gets scary.

Looking at Ducky now, he is tattered by love. Long gone is the bright yellow fluff that lined his body; now just grey porous cloth, worn ragged by the thousands of nights I held him as I went to sleep. His right foot is only a crudely stitched stub – a battle wound from the great dog-chewing incident of 1991. His beady plastic eyes, once lost in the yellow down of his face, now bulge from his threadbare fabric as if to see and know me more clearly than ever. Once the object that housed my burgeoning (but yet to be self-avowed) curiosity, Ducky now lives as a symbol of home – that intangible place I can come back to when the world around me gets scary. He reminds me I am brave, and competent, and am safe enough to remain curious because there is always some kind of home to come back to... even if that home is inside yourself … or in my case, a duck. 


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HERE'S HOW YOU CAN PARTICIPATE IN FRIENDSGIVING WITH US:

Give! Visit our Miry’s List campaign page and make a donation. It's that simple and no sum is too small. Truly.

Follow! Be sure to follow us on Instagram and our blog throughout the month of November. We will be reflecting on what it means to be welcomed, received, and known.

Share!  Help us spread the word. You can do this by sharing our social media posts or links to our Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraiser page.

******

A little about Miry’s List:
Refugee families come to the United States seeking a safe haven from violence and persecution in their home countries. They leave behind family and friends, as well as virtually everything they own. Many Americans, seeing these families in their communities, wonder: What can I do to help? Miry's List provides a mechanism for people to directly help new arrival refugee families with the things that they need to get started in their new lives – from diapers to beds to cleaning supplies and toiletries. To learn more, visit miryslist.org.


Lauren Ziel, MSW is a Registered Associate Clinical Social Worker, ASW #76483, working under the supervision of Saralyn Masselink, LCSW . Through the use of movement and mindfulness, Lauren develops specialized treatment for anxiety, depression, eating disorders, challenges in life-stage transitions, relational difficulties, and identity/intrapersonal development.

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Home: A Process

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Home: A Process

This November, MHT is participating in the Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraising Drive. The money goes to programs that support refugee families that have been resettled in the United States. In tandem with these efforts, our clinicians are writing posts reflecting on what home means to them.

That process of coming home to my inner world and to an expanded vision for my self in the outer world was one very much marked by stumbling and meandering.
Taz Morgan

There was a process of coming home to my self that I was immersed in during the time that I ‘discovered’ the stack of books in my photo. I use quotations here for discovered because the books all somehow found me - through recommendations from trusted people in my life - more so than I found them. Each of their authors helped me to get in touch with my desire to become a psychotherapist after traveling along a much different career trajectory for years. That process of coming home to my inner world and to an expanded vision for my self in the outer world was one very much marked by stumbling and meandering.

I was (and will always be, I think) enamored with the idea that so much about the human psyche is unknowable - and yet since childhood I have had a hunger for knowledge about what makes us tick, grieve, or love. How does one become a person? What does it mean to be alive? What makes this life so painful and yet so rewarding at the same time? Many open-ended questions! These four books scratched some itches, but moreover, they initiated me into a deeper dialogue with ideas that had been swirling around in my head without much of a home to play in. It was a moving experience to encounter others, either from the past or present time, that were contending with these questions in such nuanced ways. It’s that sensation of finding something so right and so precise — it’s almost uncanny. Or the feeling of making a new friend when you have a moment of “No way, you too!? Wow, I thought I was the only one who _____.” Somehow the language that I found in these books reflected to me that I wasn’t alone and helped me remember that my mind was in relationship to other minds. They articulated things that I knew to be true in my gut, but unable to name with language before. This is what home signifies to me: it is a series of movements informed by resonance and reciprocity. And it’s a place to be known and understood - a place to be in dialogue - a place to be in process in a way that allows space for us to get to know ourselves and others over and over again. 


Taz’s Library (left to right):

-Quiet by Susan Cain

-Far from the Tree by Andrew Solomon

-Radical Acceptance by Tara Brach

-We’ve Had One Hundred Years of Psychotherapy and the World’s Getting Worse by James Hillman and Michael Ventura


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HERE'S HOW YOU CAN PARTICIPATE IN FRIENDSGIVING WITH US:

Give! Visit our Miry’s List campaign page and make a donation. It's that simple and no sum is too small. Truly.

Follow! Be sure to follow us on Instagram and our blog throughout the month of November. We will be reflecting on what it means to be welcomed, received, and known.

Share!  Help us spread the word. You can do this by sharing our social media posts or links to our Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraiser page.

******

A little about Miry’s List:
Refugee families come to the United States seeking a safe haven from violence and persecution in their home countries. They leave behind family and friends, as well as virtually everything they own. Many Americans, seeing these families in their communities, wonder: What can I do to help? Miry's List provides a mechanism for people to directly help new arrival refugee families with the things that they need to get started in their new lives – from diapers to beds to cleaning supplies and toiletries. To learn more, visit miryslist.org.


Taz MorganMA, is an Associate Marriage and Family Therapist, IMF #99714, working under the supervision of Gabrielle Taylor, PhD. She has trained in Depth-oriented psychotherapy and works with adolescents, adults, and couples. 

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Home: Safety

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Home: Safety

This November, MHT is participating in the Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraising Drive. The money goes to programs that support refugee families that have been resettled in the United States. In tandem with these efforts, our clinicians are writing posts reflecting on what home means to them.

Like a fence protecting baby grass, some untouched territory can allow for steady growth. In the shelter of “home,” I can expand and decay, progress and regress, create and destroy— all without apology.
Katie Hurley, MSW.jpg

Home means safety to me. I think of the word “home” and I hear the sound of a deadbolt lock clicking in place. That sound is sweet and satisfying. It promises privacy. No intrusions and no interruptions. 

In a culture that glorifies the adventure-haver, the festival-goer, and the yes-sayer— I love the clear “no” that rings from a locked door. 

I swear I’m not a complete bummer-person, but I do believe in the beauty of boundaries. 

Like a fence protecting baby grass, some untouched territory can allow for steady growth. In the shelter of “home,” I can expand and decay, progress and regress, create and destroy— all without apology. 

In 1929, Virginia Woolf insisted that a “room of one’s own” would allow a woman to drop the act. She said a private place meant there was “…No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself.” What wonderful permission she grants us. 

I think women in particular must allow themselves to close and lock the door. I mean that literally and metaphorically. This can be tough in a world that wants to consume us while simultaneously demanding our graciousness. It's hard to shake that instinct to be polite. But I have found few things more invigorating than denying someone access. 

Locks can be picked, though, and doors can be kicked open. Sacred spaces can be infiltrated or destroyed entirely. I know that safety is never a given and privacy is a privilege known to few. 

When circumstances won’t allow for solace I turn inward. And then I turn to Camus. He said, “In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.”


HERE'S HOW YOU CAN PARTICIPATE IN FRIENDSGIVING WITH US:

Give! Visit our Miry’s List campaign page and make a donation. It's that simple and no sum is too small. Truly.

Follow! Be sure to follow us on Instagram and our blog throughout the month of November. We will be reflecting on what it means to be welcomed, received, and known.

Share!  Help us spread the word. You can do this by sharing our social media posts or links to our Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraiser page.

******

A little about Miry’s List:
Refugee families come to the United States seeking a safe haven from violence and persecution in their home countries. They leave behind family and friends, as well as virtually everything they own. Many Americans, seeing these families in their communities, wonder: What can I do to help? Miry's List provides a mechanism for people to directly help new arrival refugee families with the things that they need to get started in their new lives – from diapers to beds to cleaning supplies and toiletries. To learn more, visit miryslist.org.


Katie Hurley, MSW, is an Associate Clinical Social Worker, ASW #89658 working under the supervision of Saralyn Masselink, LCSW #28617. Katie specializes in working with children and adolescents who are navigating depression, anxiety, trauma, and PTSD.

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Home: Belonging

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Home: Belonging

This November, MHT is participating in the Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraising Drive. The money goes to programs that support refugee families that have been resettled in the United States. In tandem with these efforts, our clinicians are writing posts reflecting on what home means to them.


“Who would you be if you trusted it was safe to belong?”
--Madison Morrigan

Tracy Lee, LMFT

As a bicultural woman in the world, cultivating a true sense of belonging has not always been an easy task. You see, looking back, there were many times in my life when I felt like the outsider rather than the insider. In the early days of my quest for belonging, I found myself being a chameleon of sorts -- carefully reading the room, anticipating the needs of others (often times before they even knew it), and acting in ways I perceived to be most acceptable to the environment or group I happened to be in. All this "blending in" ultimately came at the cost of my self-erasure.

Since then, a significant part of my growth process has been learning to pay more loving attention to myself -- that is, integrating the many different parts of my identity and personhood, honoring my needs, and living out my truths. My journey “home,” simply put, has been about finding a voice and belonging from within. And this, simultaneously, has led me to discover people and places to safely belong to as me.

Truth be told, there are costly sacrifices to be made on the way to real belonging -- because when it comes time to inhabit one’s next self, it may require breaking away from old habits, traditions, expectations, markers of security, and even certain relationships. These were all once things of real value that could be counted on, that held the former self together in a particular way.

I believe that working as a therapist has created in me an even greater sense of belonging and being at home in the world. I belong myself to those who are suffering, to those who are seeking relief and comfort. As I encounter people from all walks of life in the therapy room, as well as out in the community at large, I see the whole of the human family as indeed my own. I like to say to them, as I've said to myself, “You are welcome in my company just as you are. You are important to me.”

As we co-create spaces of belonging, we witness the shedding of protective layers and connect to our deepest humanity. And whether this process brings up excitement, curiosity, anxiety, sadness, grief, or anger, let us say, “There is a place for these feelings. They belong here, too.”

Truth be told, there are costly sacrifices to be made on the way to real belonging — because when it comes time to inhabit one’s next self, it may require breaking away from old habits, traditions, expectations, markers of security, and even certain relationships.

HERE'S HOW YOU CAN PARTICIPATE IN FRIENDSGIVING WITH US:

Give! Visit our Miry’s List campaign page and make a donation. It's that simple and no sum is too small. Truly.

Follow! Be sure to follow us on Instagram and our blog throughout the month of November. We will be reflecting on what it means to be welcomed, received, and known.

Share!  Help us spread the word. You can do this by sharing our social media posts or links to our Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraiser page.

******

A little about Miry’s List:
Refugee families come to the United States seeking a safe haven from violence and persecution in their home countries. They leave behind family and friends, as well as virtually everything they own. Many Americans, seeing these families in their communities, wonder: What can I do to help? Miry's List provides a mechanism for people to directly help new arrival refugee families with the things that they need to get started in their new lives – from diapers to beds to cleaning supplies and toiletries. To learn more, visit miryslist.org.


Tracy Lee, LMFT, offers holistic, culturally-sensitive therapy. She is passionate about Asian American mental health and BIPOC issues, including racial trauma, cultural identity challenges, intergenerational conflict, etc.

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Home: Refuge

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Home: Refuge

This November, MHT is participating in the Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraising Drive. The money goes to programs that support refugee families that have been resettled in the United States. In tandem with these efforts, our clinicians are writing posts reflecting on what home means to them.

...home...is any place where I feel safe to experience all the different human emotions with other safe humans present - a refuge amidst change and uncertainty.
Sarah Butcher, LMFT.jpg

Eleven years ago, my childhood home burned down in a wildfire. I no longer lived there, but many of my memories did. There were the obvious losses like family photos that were irreplaceable--most of which were not digitized. However, other things that I missed took me by surprise: light blue bed sheets, a brown and red afghan, my doll house that I'd had since childhood, blue rimmed plates my parents received at their wedding, old yearbooks with signatures, and my collection of notes and cards. I miss all of our family's eclectic Christmas ornaments that had been gathered over many years and included a popcorn chain for the tree my parents made in the 80s (maybe we saved that one a little too long, but it held so many memories).

The year of the fire, I came back to my hometown for Christmas with some feelings of dread. Could my parents’ replacement rental feel like home? I needn’t have worried. I quickly realized it was the people who gathered there that made it home. My family, my friends, my neighbors, and my extended community all rallied round. Miraculously, no one lost their life in this particular wildfire, and being back, and seeing the damage made the danger of the fire more real to me. It also made me think about how much more we could have lost. It was people that mattered. And it was the kindness of people that helped my family get some of the basic material things they needed to get back on track in the short term.

It was with these people, my family and friends, that I took refuge. Refuge is the word I chose to describe my sense of home because it means being safe or sheltered, and home is a safe place for me - a place that can hold me during the many storms of life. There are familiar and sentimental material things in my home now that make it feel special, comfortable, and welcoming to me, and the actual structural component of a physical home is important for survival. However, I know the feeling of home is more than the material things. It is any place where I feel safe to experience all the different human emotions with other safe humans present - a refuge amidst change and uncertainty.


HERE'S HOW YOU CAN PARTICIPATE IN FRIENDSGIVING WITH US:

Give! Visit our Miry’s List campaign page and make a donation. It's that simple and no sum is too small. Truly.

Follow! Be sure to follow us on Instagram and our blog throughout the month of November. We will be reflecting on what it means to be welcomed, received, and known.

Share!  Help us spread the word. You can do this by sharing our social media posts or links to our Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraiser page.

******

A little about Miry’s List:
Refugee families come to the United States seeking a safe haven from violence and persecution in their home countries. They leave behind family and friends, as well as virtually everything they own. Many Americans, seeing these families in their communities, wonder: What can I do to help? Miry's List provides a mechanism for people to directly help new arrival refugee families with the things that they need to get started in their new lives – from diapers to beds to cleaning supplies and toiletries. To learn more, visit miryslist.org.


Sarah Butcher, LMFT, specializes in treating children, teens, new and postpartum parents, and young adults. Her work with children in developmental play therapy led to her certification as a DIR Intermediate Floortime provider.

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Home: Of the Earth

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Home: Of the Earth

This November, MHT is participating in the Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraising Drive. The money goes to programs that support refugee families that have been resettled in the United States. In tandem with these efforts, our clinicians are writing posts reflecting on what home means to them.

Erika Mitchell, MA.jpg

Meditating on what “home” means to me stirs up a lot of feelings - sadness, pain, grief, fear, disappointment - just to name a few. Having moved homes frequently throughout my childhood and into adulthood, I always felt a strange knot in my stomach when someone would ask about my home or where I'm from; like there was so just too much too explain. As I’ve come into more stable footing and appreciation for the lessons I have learned through all of my moving around, I realize that to me home has always been a place within me. It’s a place that I often find through my connection to the Earth. When I am feeling at home within myself, my body literally feels connected to the ground beneath my feet, and I will imagine all the layers and elemental compounds of the Earth all the way to it’s core, while also tuning in to the shimmering rays of light or the movement of the air, all the way up to feeling the life that I am given by the sun. I come to feel at ease and grateful in the comfort I can take in my own breath and my own aliveness. I feel safe within myself and more eager to connect with the other earthlings living on this beautiful planet.

I trust in nature’s wisdom even through its death and destruction. As storms pass and seasons change, maybe even climates change, I am reminded of how complicated and tumultuous a place called home can be. Amidst the chaos and uncertainty I take solace in knowing that I am a person of the Earth and that I belong here. I hope we can all stay attuned enough to the moods of the only home we really have in this universe to do our part to conserve what we can for future generations of earthlings.

When I am feeling at home within myself, my body literally feels connected to the ground beneath my feet, and I will imagine all the layers and elemental compounds of the Earth all the way to it’s core, while also tuning in to the shimmering rays of light or the movement of the air, all the way up to feeling the life that I am given by the sun.

HERE'S HOW YOU CAN PARTICIPATE IN FRIENDSGIVING WITH US:

Give! Visit our Miry’s List campaign page and make a donation. It's that simple and no sum is too small. Truly.

Follow! Be sure to follow us on Instagram and our blog throughout the month of November. We will be reflecting on what it means to be welcomed, received, and known.

Share!  Help us spread the word. You can do this by sharing our social media posts or links to our Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraiser page.

******

A little about Miry’s List:
Refugee families come to the United States seeking a safe haven from violence and persecution in their home countries. They leave behind family and friends, as well as virtually everything they own. Many Americans, seeing these families in their communities, wonder: What can I do to help? Miry's List provides a mechanism for people to directly help new arrival refugee families with the things that they need to get started in their new lives – from diapers to beds to cleaning supplies and toiletries. To learn more, visit miryslist.org.


Erika Mitchell, MA, is a Registered Associate Marriage and Family Therapist #109385, working under the professional supervision of Michelle Harwell, PsyD, LMFT 50732. Erika specializes in helping her clients bring mindful, attuned awareness to their sensations and emotions.

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Home: Being Known

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Home: Being Known

This November, MHT is participating in the Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraising Drive. The money goes to programs that support refugee families that have been resettled in the United States. In tandem with these efforts, our clinicians are writing posts reflecting on what home means to them.

Everybody has a home team: It’s the people you call when you get a flat tire or when something terrible happens. It’s the people who, near or far, know everything that’s wrong with you and love you anyways. These are the ones who tell you their secrets, who get themselves a glass of water without asking when they’re at your house. These are the people who cry when you cry. These are your people, your middle-of-the-night, no-matter-what people.”

-  Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet: Thoughts on Change, Grace, and Learning the Hard Way
Paloma Franco, MS.jpg

In one of the chapters in her book, Bittersweet: Thoughts on Change, Grace, and Learning the Hard Way, Shauna Niequist describes the importance of having a home team. This home team is a community of people that you can count on, that you feel connected to and that make you feel known. Niequist highlights how this home team can change through time and seasons in your life. There is sweetness in being known by someone in all your humanness and still choosing to love you — that is home for me.

 In this season of reflection on the word ‘home’ at MHT, places come to mind such as my childhood home, that restaurant in San Pedro, and that grocery store that always plays Spanish music. Some people also come to mind, individuals who are my family and those that have become family. My home team – in their presence I feel known, seen, and connected. Over the last decade, I’ve discovered the power of being known and the comfort of being in a space or in the presence of someone who symbolizes home.

Home holds many meanings for every individual. As I reflect on the importance of being known – I think about the immigrants, refugees, and asylum seekers hoping for a place to call home and a community where they feel known, once they have established safety in their new space. There is so much importance in ‘being known’ in order to feel at home.

There is sweetness in being known by someone in all your humanness and still choosing to love you — that is home for me.

HERE'S HOW YOU CAN PARTICIPATE IN FRIENDSGIVING WITH US:

Give! Visit our Miry’s List campaign page and make a donation. It's that simple and no sum is too small. Truly.

Follow! Be sure to follow us on Instagram and our blog throughout the month of November. We will be reflecting on what it means to be welcomed, received, and known.

Share!  Help us spread the word. You can do this by sharing our social media posts or links to our Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraiser page.

******

A little about Miry’s List:
Refugee families come to the United States seeking a safe haven from violence and persecution in their home countries. They leave behind family and friends, as well as virtually everything they own. Many Americans, seeing these families in their communities, wonder: What can I do to help? Miry's List provides a mechanism for people to directly help new arrival refugee families with the things that they need to get started in their new lives – from diapers to beds to cleaning supplies and toiletries. To learn more, visit miryslist.org.


Paloma Franco, MS, is a Registered Psychological Assistant #PSB94024942 working under the supervision of Gabrielle Taylor, PhD, PSY# 22054. Paloma is a bilingual (Spanish & English) therapist who works with individuals, couples, and families to address a variety of issues, including anxiety, depression, trauma, relationship issues, and cultural challenges.

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Home: A Place to Dwell

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Home: A Place to Dwell

This November, MHT is participating in the Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraising Drive. The money goes to programs that support refugee families that have been resettled in the United States. In tandem with these efforts, our clinicians are writing posts reflecting on what home means to them.

Michelle Harwell Therapy

As children, I think we take for granted that a home is gifted to us. It’s made for us through the routines, the four walls that surround and the emotional rhythms that build a sense of familiarity and holding. As we grow, that sense of belonging to a place and a people translates to a more robust internal belonging and holding that allows us to venture further and further out into the world...but this is tricky because the world is not a stable place. It’s ever-changing and so are we. At moments, that is utterly terrifying — and also wild and wonderful, if we can tolerate it. As Heraclitus says, “No (wo)man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and (s)he's not the same (wo)man.”

So in the midst of such constant change, how do we still find a way to be in the world, to build a home under ever-changing conditions? I think the answer is found not in the concept of home per se but what a home provides us, which is a place of dwelling. To dwell is to linger, to safely be. In adult life we have to work at it, with intentionality, to find places, people, and practices that helps us make contact with our beingness. I identify these connections and spaces in the form of an exhale. When I truly breathe out, I know I’ve found a piece of home and a place to dwell.

...how do we still find a way to be in the world, to build a home under ever-changing conditions? I think the answer is found not in the concept of home per se but what a home provides us, which is a place of dwelling.

HERE'S HOW YOU CAN PARTICIPATE IN FRIENDSGIVING WITH US:

Give! Visit our Miry’s List campaign page and make a donation. It's that simple and no sum is too small. Truly.

Follow! Be sure to follow us on Instagram and our blog throughout the month of November. We will be reflecting on what it means to be welcomed, received, and known.

Share!  Help us spread the word. You can do this by sharing our social media posts or links to our Miry’s List Friendsgiving Fundraiser page.

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A little about Miry’s List:
Refugee families come to the United States seeking a safe haven from violence and persecution in their home countries. They leave behind family and friends, as well as virtually everything they own. Many Americans, seeing these families in their communities, wonder: What can I do to help? Miry's List provides a mechanism for people to directly help new arrival refugee families with the things that they need to get started in their new lives – from diapers to beds to cleaning supplies and toiletries. To learn more, visit miryslist.org.


Michelle Harwell, PsyD, LMFT is an expert trainer, respected speaker, and licensed therapist in trauma and attachment. She is noted for her specialization in areas of development, attachment, trauma, and neuroscience, and her ability to communicate complex topics with clarity and humor. 

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