Deconstructing the Stigma of Counseling in Fiction and Real Life
Deconstructing the Stigma of Counseling in Fiction and Real Life: A Guest Post by Pamela N.Harris
My name is Pamela N. Harris and I have anxiety.
The funny thing is, I’m a counselor. I worked as a school counselor for seven years, then studied and practiced family counseling while working on my Ph.D. in Counselor Education. However, I didn’t know I had anxiety until I spoke to another counselor as a requirement for graduate school.
But the symptoms were always there. As a child, I used to get so anxious the night before a major project was due that my mom would stay up past midnight with me until everything was exactly perfect. If I had a huge test, I would make myself so ill from studying and stressing that my mom would keep me home and write a note to the teacher requesting permission to take a makeup exam instead (and yes, this even happened while I was an undergraduate in college. I know, embarrassing, right?).
My nerves wouldn’t just go into overdrive for major projects, tests or speaking engagements, either. I distinctly remember freaking out in middle school when I left my textbook in my locker. I had to answer questions that would count toward probably less than 5 percent of my final grade, but still...I HAD to get it done. My mom caught the city bus to the school after hours and knocked on the doors until the custodian let her in to retrieve that textbook. (Did I mention my mom is a superhero?)
So why did it take so long for me to receive a diagnosis of anxiety when the writing was always on the wall? You see, mental health is not often discussed in Black American families. We usually believe that issues can be resolved through humor, prayer, or hard work (or a combination of the three). Even the idea of me studying counseling as a career was a curious endeavor. We’re not supposed to talk about our problems to someone outside of family, so why was I trying to listen to others’ problems?
Tons of research have been done about Black individuals’ mistrust and underuse of counseling services — many of it tracing its roots to historical trauma. One thing’s for sure, though: This stigma against counseling is commonly passed down to Black youth. Had I realized as a kid that someone would listen to my fears and worries without any judgments, I might’ve not stressed so much about forgetting my textbook for one night.
When I was writing my debut YA novel, “When You Look Like Us,” I felt it was important to not only show a school counselor truly caring about her students (and not just fumbling through the day as school counselors are sometimes portrayed), but also to paint an authentic picture of how a Black male teen might initially respond to his school counselor. My main character, Jay, has a lot on his plate: He lost both of his parents, his grandmother has ailing health, and now his sister has gone missing. The last thing he needs is some phony counselor trying to pry into his business. But as Jay searches for answers about his sister, he starts to see that more people care about him and his family than he realized. In other words, it’s OK to let his guard down and let others in. Mrs. Pratt, his school counselor, is one of those people who just wants the best for him.
Does that mean we have to push Black teens to speak to counselors? As a former school counselor, I wish it were that easy! If anything, we can help tear away the stigma of counseling by being open to it ourselves. Even after my anxiety diagnosis, I took a long pause away from therapy. However, becoming a mother and counselor educator reminded me of the importance of taking care of my mental health. How was I supposed to talk about self-care with my children and students if I wasn’t practicing what I preached? Better yet, sharing my fears, worries and even successes to an unbiased party clears my head enough to make room for creativity. It’s as if my counselor helps to break the levees and the words begin to flow.
So now, I like to tell my teen clients that my name is Pamela N. Harris, I have anxiety — and I sometimes speak to a counselor about it, too. Am I cured? No. But my mom isn’t writing sick notes for me anymore.
Pamela N. Harris was born and somewhat raised in Newport News, Virginia, also affectionately known as “Bad News.” A former school counselor by day, she received her bachelor’s in English and a master’s in school counseling at Old Dominion University, her M.F.A in creative writing at Fairleigh Dickinson University, and a Ph.D. in counselor education and supervision at William and Mary. When she isn’t writing, Pam is rewatching Leonardo DiCaprio movies, playing with her kiddos and pretending to enjoy exercising. For more info on Pam, visit https://www.pamharriswrites.com/.
Deconstructing the Stigma of Counseling in Fiction and Real Life: A Guest Post by Pamela N. Harris
