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The fourth revolution

Over the course of several decades, the legend of a humanistic psychology institute, turned graduate research center, turned university, is a plot rich with interesting characters and various twists and turns.

What began as a small group of academic rebels seeking to change the face of higher education has now morphed into a small university finding its way once again in a sea of political and academic change. One thing has remained constant though—the university’s administration, faculty, staff, and students are intent on adhering to Saybrook University’s founding mission of promoting a more just, humane, and sustainable world.

Saybrook’s rebellious, progressive lineage is a product of the countercultural movement of the 1960s and is a child of three major revolutions—in psychology, research, and education (1).

Dr. Nathan Long

I contend that we are now on the verge of a fourth revolution—eclipsing the classroom to bring Saybrook’s humanistic ideals and methods of teaching and learning forward in ways that will not only fundamentally transform the lives of our students, but also the clients they serve, the organizations of which they are a part, and the communities in which they live.

In this sense, we are UNBOUND.

A few of Saybrook University’s founders took a revolutionary idea and brought it to life 

Those who embrace humanistic approaches leverage these unique traits to live an optimal life.

The Humanistic Psychology Institute (HPI) was thus conceived. Initially housed at Sonoma State University, the Institute’s first director, Dr. Eleanor Criswell, helped institutionalize and bring to life the vision of her notable colleagues. In 1971, HPI began to educate students that this third way, or force, was needed in the advancement of psychology to more deeply understand what it means to be human and to improve the human condition

Humanistic Psychology and the Institute, which began promoting its principles through scholarship and practice, ultimately embodied several main concepts, including:  

1. Human existence is central to understanding the human condition: The vast nature of everyone’s full human experience is related to each person’s unique purposes and functions. Everyone, therefore, has human choice and agency in their own path to fulfilling their potential, drawing on their truly distinctive existence.

2. Our commonality is that of possessing unique traits: Human beings are—as far as we know—unique in our capacity for self-awareness and to establish in-depth relationships. Those who embrace humanistic approaches leverage these unique traits to live an optimal life.

3. Human beings are best studied in our natural context: While studying behavior in the laboratory can be useful to control for certain variables, understanding human psychology in natural contexts helps us better understand the fullness of the human experience. The humanistic practitioner will often use research and therapeutic techniques that are real-world. Furthermore, qualitative research is often used and may include phenomenology or exploring the human experience. The point of view of the subject is honored and articulated.

4. Human beings must be viewed in the fullness or wholeness of our humanity: A person’s full humanity cannot be reduced to an illness, a relationship, or a set of behaviors in exclusion of everything else that makes one human. Humanistic-oriented practitioners recognize a person is more than just a combination of interrelated parts; she is a complex organism with significant potential. If a diagnosis is provided, it privileges the voice of the client.

A child of the revolutions in research and education

The 1960s and 1970s were known as a time of counter-cultural activity in America. During an unpopular war, as well as struggles for racial and gender equality, paradigms in research and education were also changing as reflections of the period. The academy in general, the discipline of psychology in particular, and HPI each were in the middle of this exciting, yet tumultuous period.

Throughout the first half of the 20th century, behavioral and social scientists adhered to long-held standards of empirical, objective inquiry that incorporated scientific observations in the laboratory, employed various experimental models, and perpetuated the use of inferential statistics (quantitative approaches) as a means of analyzing data.

During the countercultural movement, however, a newer generation of academicians and social-behavioral scientists began questioning the very role of objectivity in the pursuit of science. Depending on one’s source, the beginning of the qualitative-quantitative debates emerged in the mid to late 60s and carried on for some time thereafter.

For the first time, psychological and sociological research began shedding an important light on human existence.

The crux of the debate was this: human beings could not be effectively studied without digging deep and understanding the lived experience of the subjects who were being researched. While there was certainly value in quantitative techniques, depth was needed to understand the totality of the human subject being studied.

In its application, qualitative research offered a broad palette of unique research approaches that dug deep into the “why”. For the first time, psychological and sociological research began shedding an important light on human existence. In the wake of this new, more subjective research, women’s and minorities’ voices began coming to the fore in ways that had been largely non-existent in social-behavioral science scholarship. The revolution occurring in research at the time offered a counter-approach to the prevailing narrative that the only viable way to understand the natural world was solely through empirical data.

Given the humanistic approach, qualitative research gained significant traction as part of HPI’s prevailing approach to researching the human condition. Qualitative methods enabled researchers to probe the depths of the human mind from a micro-perspective, embracing the unique traits of each person. Over time, HPI (which soon changed its name Saybrook Graduate School and Research Center) became one of a handful of leaders nationally promoting and advancing qualitative approaches in humanistic research.

 Breaking down barriers—education as liberation

As an institute of Sonoma State University, HPI began to see its efforts bear significant fruit. Inasmuch that the Institute was promoting new ways of research, so too were the leading faculty pondering ways to expand the reach of the institute, creating student access that would enable Humanistic Psychology to expand beyond the constraints of the academy.

We were not alone.

Across the country, the higher education sector was exploring new delivery models, creating opportunities for people to obtain credentials that could improve their lives and the lives of their communities. For too long, education had been the purview of the privileged and the few. Twenty years post-GI Bill, the opportunity to further democratize higher education now held great promise.

Over the next few years, HPI was working its way to becoming a freestanding graduate institute in the heart of San Francisco. Unlike traditional higher education, coursework was not delivered in classrooms, but at a distance. However, unlike other distance education schools, students could work with preeminent scholars in the field, including the likes of Rollo May and Carl Rogers. Such an approach enabled students at the time—such as Richard Tarnas, the revered author of Passion of the Western Mind—to write important works. Passion of the Western Mind, for example, is now found in history and philosophy departments across the country. Students like Dr. Tarnas enjoyed the intellectual freedom HPI offered, while being able to connect with leading scholars of the day.

By phone and mail, coupled with an annual gathering in the Bay Area, students and faculty met to review their work, engage in intellectual struggle, and find new ways of thinking and being in a world that no longer was constrained by convention.

In a word, HPI had become unbound by the traditional education model: brick-and-mortar classrooms that mandated a face-to-face academic delivery as the only means to obtain a graduate-level education.

 From HPI to Saybrook University

Beginning in the 1975-76 academic year, HPI officially opened its doors as an independent entity, with Dr. Donald Polkinghorne serving as its first president. Then, in 1981, with an approximate enrollment of 150 students, HPI changed its name in recognition of the place where it was founded (Old Saybrook, Connecticut), to Saybrook Graduate School and Research Center. By 1984, Saybrook obtained regional accreditation from the WASC Senior College and University Commission. Over the years, Saybrook pressed on through good and challenging years, holding firmly to its humanistic mission.
We were not alone.

By 2007, Saybrook’s seventh president, Dr. Lorne Buchman, set forth on a vision to expand the Saybrook Institute into a full-fledged university, with a key distinction: the reimagined institution would expand its offerings into other disciplines including, but not limited to: education, counseling, ecology, and organizational systems and leadership.

Each of these disciplines would weave in the core principles of humanistic philosophy, expanding upon the concept so that what was traditionally viewed as a scholarly practice could be applied beyond the therapist’s office and into organizations and communities at large. Such a new approach had the potential of advancing individual and social transformation across many sectors. With a compelling vision at the ready, Saybrook Graduate School and Research Center was renamed to Saybrook University in 2009.

By 2015, the Saybrook University Board of Trustees announced a renewed vision (Saybrook 2020), edifying Saybrook’s place in the world and enhancing its ability to deliver a truly progressive, unbound graduate education contributing to a more just, humane, and sustainable world.

 A new revolution: The humanistic paradigm as multidisciplinary

Saybrook and her students, faculty, and staff have sojourned nearly 50 years with the goal of spreading the values of humanistic psychology., and organizational systems and leadership.

Today, we are helping lead a new revolution. Leveraging our legacy of distance education and outstanding academics, our focus now is on taking the humanistic values that informed the field of psychology and making these not a third way or “force”, but instead promoting these values as the force for positive, social transformational change through exceptional online virtual teaching-learning communities and cutting-edge research.

These ideals of humanistic psychology aptly apply to the work being done today by psychologists, social workers, integrative health practitioners, teachers, artists, and non-profit and business leaders.

By expanding the promise of humanistic thinking into various fields of study, we expand the opportunity to change the world one individual, one organization, and one community at a time.

(1) Dr. Robert Flax, August 2015. This historical context was provided to me by long-time faculty member and Saybrook Alumnus, Dr. Flax, in really unpacking the larger history of Saybrook University.

(2) See also The Path of a Reluctant Metaphysician. The Body Mind Healing Center by Michael Mayer, published by Body Mind Healing Center, June 2012.

Winning the nutritional food fight

Eating disorders and disordered eating behaviors are not simply nutritional nor psychological in nature. They’re both, says Jeannemarie Beiseigel, Ph.D., R.D., Department Chair of Integrative and Functional Nutrition at Saybrook. We examine how mindfulness, self-forgiveness, and an honest conversation with medical professionals can help individuals avoid the latest condition—orthorexia nervosa—when making healthy choices becomes an unhealthy obsession.

A healthy diet is about living, and you can’t ‘live’ when there are extreme conditions set around what can and cannot be eaten.

Some people go to restaurants or grocery stores and happily grab whatever looks scrumptious. Grocery list or not, they’re ready to cook and try it all. Sample portions and free appetizers? Those are the bonuses equal to the fun cousin at a family reunion. For others though, that same restaurant or grocery store excursion is not nearly so fun.

Should you eat regular tomatoes or organic? How long will you have to run to burn off eating that whole-grain bread? Guacamole is full of avocado, but does that mean you can’t eat anything else that day considering a whole avocado is half of the recommended daily fat intake? Are lightly salted chips still too salty for your blood pressure? Red wine may be heart healthy, but is it worth the risk of gulping down those extra carbohydrates?

With the increasing fad of “eating clean,” social stigmas and peer pressure create even more worries about responsible eating habits. People are bombarded with “nutrition” tips that paint foods as either “good” or “bad” based on their ingredients or nutritional content from the Atkins Diet, the Zone Diet, the South Beach Diet, a Weight Watchers membership, no-carb or high-protein diets, vegetarian or vegan diets, or even making the big leap to raw food diets.

Eating healthy becomes a game of perfection, whether it is about numbers or ingredients or purity of food, it leads to an obsessive mentality around food.

But there is a fine line between leading a balanced, healthy lifestyle, and letting the need to make healthy choices dominate your life in unhealthy ways. So how do we take meaningful steps toward a healthier lifestyle and practice self-care, while avoiding the pitfalls of being too judgmental when something goes awry?

Most people are familiar with common feeding and eating disorders—binge-eating, anorexia nervosa, and bulimia nervosa—all included within the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5). However, orthorexia nervosa, which is not currently classified as a diagnosable eating disorder, is steadily taking control of the lives of many, even without their knowledge.

What orthorexia nervosa is and why it’s not in the DSM-5

“The overarching category definition of eating disorders each have their own diagnostic criteria, such as the number of times one binges or a percentage below ideal body weight,” Beiseigel says. “Orthorexia nervosa is a newer term and it’s not that easy to define. Researchers have not agreed upon a valid method of identifying and diagnosing it. As a result, there are estimates of incidence that vary multi-fold. It will likely become an official, diagnosable eating disorder at some point, but that will require more consensus on diagnostic criteria.”

Oddly enough, the term “ortho” means “right” or “correct,” but orthorexia nervosa is the exact opposite of the correct way to practice integrative and functional nutrition. According to Steven Bratman, M.D., M.P.H., who coined the term in 1997, a self-test to diagnose orthorexia nervosa includes:

  • Spending an exorbitant amount of time thinking about and planning healthy food options even more than one would dedicate time to loved ones and work/school life.
  • Being openly judgmental of anyone who eats unhealthy foods.
  • Exercising extreme guilt or anxiety after eating unhealthy foods.
  • Immediate mood changes based on being unfamiliar or unhappy with the status of whether certain foods are considered “clean.”
  • Creating new food rules that drastically reduce one’s food intake.
  • Physical changes (ex. hair loss, menstruation changes, skin problems) from malnutrition that are the direct result of losing too much weight.

While someone who shows signs of orthorexia nervosa may initially see themselves as harmlessly trying to live a healthier lifestyle, what they’re missing is two essential factors: self-forgiveness and mindfulness about what they’re eating.

Making mindfulness and self-forgiveness a mandatory invite to the dinner party

“Eating healthy becomes a game of perfection, whether it is about numbers or ingredients or purity of food, it leads to an obsessive mentality around food,” Beiseigel says. “I think all weight management and health plans should teach people self-forgiveness and allowable indulgence. A healthy diet is about living, and you can’t ‘live’ when there are extreme conditions set around what can and cannot be eaten.”

Something as simple as a high-five lowers cortisone, releases dopamine, alleviates stress, and gives a person a natural “high,” according to The Washington Post. Incorporating those high-five days into a nutritional journal could be the motivator to keep your life going in the right direction. And there are other ways, according to Beiseigel, to help stay on the healthy eating wagon—including accepting those days when you may want to jump right off.

Play devil’s advocate with food advice. “I like to play the devil’s advocate with my students,” Beiseigel says. “If they want to argue that X food/ingredient is bad for you, I’ll argue the reverse. I want them to go back and do the research, and come to me with a good argument based on evidence and sound theory. Just as I wouldn’t want a medical doctor to give me nutritional advice based on the latest headlines, I want the same for my students. I want them to be able to read, evaluate, and apply the research to practice and guide them as individuals. Avoid jumping on the latest bandwagon of ‘nutrition science.’ Explain the shades of grey that accompany the many theories out there to guide the client as an individual.”

Avoid getting fixated on nutrition labels. “Weight Watchers is one example of a nutritional program that does a good job with their position that you can have anything, but you have to make it work within your appropriate points,” Beiseigel says. “Obviously, there are ‘better’ and ‘worse’ things to choose and the bulk of food should come from the ‘better’ items. There is still, however, the potential for people to fixate on their points. I don’t want anyone ‘forgetting’ how to read a nutrition label. But don’t fixate on any one number on that label. Put it into context of a whole diet. For example, spinach is a healthy food—it’s low in sodium, high in many essential nutrients, and low in calories. However, that doesn’t mean you should eat it in every meal and every day.”

Spoil yourself within reason. “If it’s the Fourth of July and you want a hot dog, eat the hot dog,” Beiseigel says. “One hot dog, even with all of its nitrites, nitrates, GMO-fed pork, etcetera, will not leave you with any lasting damage or extra pounds. Nor will the chili or the high-fructose corn syrup ketchup you put on top. But if you go home and start practicing for the hot dog eating contest by eating nothing but these and other such highly processed products, now we have an issue. Orthorexia nervosa will leave people stressed out and feeling guilty after eating just one hot dog to the point of not being able to enjoy it—even if that footlong is rare. Choose healthy food most of the time (90 percent) and make allowances for the stress-free, indulgent items without worrying about lasting consequences.”

Recognize the difference between cultural choices and disruptive lifestyles. Some restaurants and chefs have happily embraced healthy eating options. Websites and menus are commonly adding the nutrition information about their food choices. However, for other restaurants, there is no killjoy for wait staff and chefs quite like the vegan, vegetarian, or healthy eating enthusiast who wants to know every ingredient in each menu item before ordering.

But just as clothing shoppers can flip over an apparel tag to find out what a shirt or pair of pants is made of, consumers also have the right to know what they’re eating for a variety of reasons.

“For people with food allergies, not knowing these details can become a life-altering situation,” Beiseigel says. “A vegan or vegetarian who reads every food label because of personal ethical beliefs—but who is not otherwise overly restrictive—is questioning from a rational standpoint. A Muslim who avoids all pork products and asks to ensure religious compliance is not exhibiting an eating disorder. However, if avoidance of X, Y, or Z is due to reasons other than religious/ethical beliefs and is just a starting point that builds to then add in other food restrictions that aren’t very well-founded or disruptive to an individual’s social life, that’s when loved ones should be concerned.”

Tackling health perks and problems with health professionals

Beiseigel does admit that there is an ongoing conundrum between promoting positive food messages that don’t lead to food fears.

“I haven’t figured out how to do that for the masses, so I start with the individual in front of me,” she says.

And one of those steps with that individual is a more honest conversation for everyday patients and their primary care physicians and other doctors. She agrees that treating the causes before they become symptoms of a larger issue may be the best way to help healthy eaters.

“Many doctors and nurses don’t address nutritional issues at all, and yet there are huge nutritional implications for the treatment of many of their patients,” Beiseigel says. “It would be incredibly helpful to patients to get recommendations for dietitians and nutritionists at the first sign of dietary concerns. Or, doctors could choose to partner with dietitians and nutritionists as consultants.

“The same can be said for all practitioners. No one can be an expert in all fields, and we have to stay within our scope and refer to complementary practices. Managing eating disorders takes a multi-disciplinary approach, including medical doctors, nutritionists, and psychologists.” 

Managing eating disorders takes a multi-disciplinary approach, including medical doctors, nutritionists, and psychologists.

“Someone with advanced education in both Mind-Body Medicine specializing in Integrative & Functional Nutrition understands how to spot and address nutrient imbalances and overly restrictive eating behaviors,” Beiseigel says. “They can educate clients about a healthy diet from an evidence-based perspective, and hopefully ease and prevent ‘food fears’ that overcome the thoughts and lives of those with orthorexia nervosa. They also are skilled in mind-body medicine modalities, which start with self-care.”

In the self-care process, everyday consumers must also be able to take in health advice without creating “huge nutritional gaps in their diets.” 

“Self-care helps relieve chronic stress and manages obsessive thoughts and practices that are at the core of orthorexia nervosa,” Beiseigel says. “It teaches self-forgiveness, which breaks the chronic stress that can come along with eating for some. Mind-body medicine practitioners are trained in the practice of cognitive behavior therapy (CBT), which is a recognized modality for treating eating disorders. CBT helps individuals overcome negative thoughts about food and eating. Using CBT, along with education about a truly healthy, balanced diet that does not perpetuate food fears or overly restrictive behaviors, is the ultimate goal.”

The Waterline of Human Existence

Alumna, M.A. Leadership & Organizational Development
Organizational Management Consultant

Nina’s professional work requires the ultimate in brain balance—creativity and logic. She uses her Saybrook education as a consultant to inspire businesses and organizations to adapt, excel, and thrive, especially during times of change. Her singular point of view inspired her to create “The Waterline of Human Life at Work,” an original illustration exploring her assessment of the complex internal variables that influence larger business outputs. Thanks to her training at Saybrook, which combined theories of leadership and organizational development with those of humanistic psychology, she is making a unique difference. In addition to her professional work, Nina is a talented illustrator, wife, mother, and nature lover.

Sudarshan Kriya and yoga: Saybrook student chooses new way to overcome addiction

Anjali Talcherkar had been arguing for years with her psychiatrist about using antidepressants. Although addiction runs in her family and she was diagnosed with clinical depression, she felt antidepressants were hurting instead of helping her. After landing on the doorstep of Los Angeles’ Friendly House Women’s Recovery Home in 2011, and learning more about the 12 Steps, Ayurveda, yoga, meditation, and the breathing technique Sudarshan Kriya, she realized what would help her in the long haul.

Talcherkar decided to take sobriety into her own hands in July 2012. But in order to do so, she not only had to permanently turn her back on drugs and alcohol. She also had to stand up to her own psychiatrist.

“I’m coming up on five years clean and sober,” says Talcherkar, who will turn 39 this year. “July 2012 was the last time I had any type of alcohol or drug substance, so that’s my sobriety date. I was on antidepressants for a long time because that’s how psychiatrists were treating me. For many years, I visited practitioners who treat primarily through psychotropics and who don’t really incorporate holistic medicine. They had diagnosed me as bipolar with chronic depression. But, in 2012, I finally weaned myself off of all mind-altering substances, including psychotropic medications.”

Talcherkar developed her own routine, which included the 12 Steps, Ayurveda, yoga, meditation, and the Sudarshan Kriya breathing technique. The Saybrook student, who is currently a third-year Ph.D. candidate in Mind-Body Medicine: Integrative Mental Health, has not been afraid to confront her own past during her education either. While focusing on addiction studies to earn her master’s degree in psychology, she freely admits that she was still using drugs. After completing a few credits in 2007, she left Antioch University and did not return until she was sober and ready to complete the program.

“I was in psychotherapy at the time,” Talcherkar says. “I just became fascinated by the field of psychology. It was a combination of interests, and I’ve also been very academically inclined so I tend to just continue to learn and educate myself.”

She’s just as receptive to learning even when she identifies with the population a study is focused on. As a research mentee at the Division on Addiction, Cambridge Health Alliance (CHA) in 2016, she was focused on projects involving gambling addiction and driving under the influence (DUIs).

“Ironically, as a repeat DUI offender, there was no way for me to separate my personal experience from the Division on Addiction’s data on repeat DUI offenders,” Talcherkar says, who started drinking alcohol at the age of 15. “My biggest takeaway from this research program was that I could be more compassionate working with that challenged population. There’s immediate empathy there. Of course, most researchers don’t necessarily have the same prolonged addictive history as I do.”

“The Division on Addiction conducts primarily quantitative-based research,” Talcherkar says. “They focus on the numbers and data, important in its own right, but sometimes there is a disagreement between qualitative versus quantitative schools. Coming from Saybrook and having the double experience of having been a repeat DUI offender, I have a level of compassion and empathy, which could be considered a personal bias or a personal strength, depending on what school you come from. My experiences at Saybrook and CHA have taught me that there is a need and place for both. Personal anecdotes and stories are as informative as quantitative data.”

Proclaiming that “Saybrook found me,” Talcherkar learned about the university while browsing around online for an editor, who turned out to be a Saybrook student. But it was the humanistic philosophy from the professors and in the classes that made her apply and pursue her Ph.D. with Saybrook over several other programs.

“If I have an idea for a paper in a class and it’s a little unconventional, nine times out of 10, I’ve felt supported to do what I want to do,” Talcherkar says. “You don’t find that in a lot of academic institutions. Other universities have the academic rigor, guidelines, and structure. But I feel like Saybrook truly believes in the student and that humanistic philosophy. The potential of the student is their greatest asset so they really work to support you in whatever you want to be. At Saybrook, you’re going to grow and expand beyond your known mental confines.”

Talcherkar plans to use her educational growth to teach and research mind-body practices as a practitioner.

“One of my main goals is to make mindfulness-based practices more mainstream,” Talcherkar says. “In a couple of my blogs, I’ve mentioned the Sudarshan Kriya breathing practice. It’s taught by the International Association for Human Values (a sister organization of the Art of Living foundation) to different populations now. It’s a controlled rhythmic breathing practice, and it helps you ease into meditation and balance out emotions. There is some research on the practice currently that may help alcohol-dependent individuals. I’d like to contribute more research on the SK practice within addiction populations.”

From her experiences with the 12 Step Anonymous programs, she shies away from the belief “that we’re born fundamentally diseased and broken. I believe that people struggling with addiction can recover completely. Unfortunately, the mindset throughout the 12 Step program reinforces a disease model—a chronic condition that you’ll live with for the rest of your life. I don’t resonate with ideology driven by fear.”

Initially believing that her multiple relapses at an abstinence-based treatment center were failures, Talcherkar now looks back on that time period as a way to learn and grow into who she is today. And while she realizes that the techniques she’s used to overcome addiction may not work the same for others, she certainly plans to advocate for them.

For more information or to contact Anjali, visit anjalitalcherkar.com or email her at [email protected].

‘Scared Selfless’ author finds inspiration about trauma at Saybrook University

Michelle Stevens (Photo credit: David Carlson)

Michelle Stevens thought she lived a normal childhood. But once she moved 3,000 miles away from her abusive stepfather, traumatic memories started coming back to her. With nowhere else to turn, she used psychology and trauma books to learn more about herself and to help others who may have experienced the same—and eventually earned a doctorate in clinical psychology from Saybrook so she could help other survivors of abuse.

After graduation and at a landmark age of 21, most college graduates are thinking: “Now what?” Michelle Stevens was already answering that question. With a new bachelor’s degree in writing, she was going to use her talent to become a TV writer for the soap opera “Days of Our Lives.” But instead of writing about scripted drama, she was slowly coming to grips with another realization—upheaval about her own childhood that she’d buried in the back of her memory.

“I had moved 3,000 miles away from my abuser and was living on my own,” says Michelle Stevens, Ph.D., the author of “Scared Selfless: My Journey from Abuse and Madness to Surviving and Thriving.” “I came out to California to be a TV writer but started to have these memories that threw me into a horrible crisis. You can imagine what it would be like to think you have a normal life and then find out you’ve been abused and don’t even remember it.”

When childhood memories become adulthood nightmares
From the time Stevens was 8 years old, her 33-year-old stepfather, Gary Lundquist, had allegedly made her into a sex slave. The third grader at Delaware Township School, where Lundquist taught fifth grade, was ordered to come to his after-school club with a few other carefully selected “gifted” children to do a range of things, such as multiple-choice tests, drama club acting, and talent show performances. Around the house, she received lessons in typing and table manners.

To a casual observer, the solo and group activities may have looked like innocent favoritism: always choosing Stevens to be the lead in school plays he directed or being one of the judges who awarded her with the first prize. Her mother started to notice what looked like a bond between the two with their weekend trips to the flea market and picked a fight with Lundquist that they were spending too much time together.

However, there were signs around their home that something else was going on: a harness, a rope, nails and hooks attached to ceiling beams, a stun gun, and a dog cage. Lessons in the basement transitioned to the bedroom for what Stevens referred to as a “lovers’ tryst,” but with a lover “who was just under four feet tall and weighed less than 60 pounds.”

When Stevens went to college, she escaped the trauma physically but not mentally. Developing dissociative amnesia, “a very common thing for anyone who has ever experienced trauma,” and dissociative identity disorder, memories she’d buried deep down started “coming back around out of nowhere.”

Turning bad memories into motivation
Instead of burying the memories, she chose to use them to find out more about herself, devouring books on trauma, child abuse, and psychology for approximately 15 years. Two books she highly recommends are “Trauma and Recovery” by Judith Herman and “Too Scared to Cry” by Lenore Terr.

She also opted to find a professional therapist while she was taking on this self-learning. Finding the right therapist for herself included “kiss[ing] a lot of therapist frogs before [she found] the right therapist prince.” Sometimes that was because she just wasn’t ready. Other times it was because the psychologists may have not been trained to talk to someone with this level of trauma. While she was learning so much about herself within these readings and visits, she decided to become the therapist that she’d been looking for and chose Saybrook University to earn her master’s and doctorate in psychology.

“I specifically decided on Saybrook because it was small and it was a humanistic school, which was important to me,” Stevens says. “The therapist that I finally ended up with, who was a wonderful therapist, is trained in humanistic psychology, so I became interested in studying that. I also knew that I wanted to do qualitative research, and that Saybrook would let me do that. I was interested in writing about my own experience and studying it.”

How ‘Scared Selfless’ came to be
Her memoir, “Scared Selfless,” was actually her dissertation while working on her Ph.D. at Saybrook. Unfortunately, she found that it is extremely difficult to find psychology programs that included a trauma psychology course. With this being an obstacle (that is still ongoing in the psychology field nationwide), she did her best to find a workaround.

“Scared Selfless” book (Photo courtesy of Michelle Stevens)

“My dissertation was a method called autoethnography, which is a qualitative method,” she says. “If you are studying something that would be incredibly difficult to find a subject for, you can use yourself. In my case, I was part of a pretty organized child sex ring growing up. And it’s hard to really find people who you can study in depth for something like that.”

Writing the book wasn’t exactly therapeutic for her, but she does admit that it was helpful for her to learn more about herself. And “Scared Selfless” has also helped other readers to explore their own voices.

“Trauma has psychological consequences,” Stevens says. “People don’t realize it, but it does. Alcoholic parents. Parents on drugs. Being abandoned. Traumatic situations such as this may create all sorts of problems in a person’s adult life. But sometimes people will have no understanding of how the problems in their adult life are directly related to how they were raised. People email me every day saying, ‘Wow, I had no idea how much it affected me. Now I understand.’”

How strangers and loved ones reacted, or not

The most jarring responses to her book were the dozens of emails she received from Lundquist’s former students, who confessed that he’d also done similar things to them. She also received emails from Lundquist’s former colleagues who said they knew the abuse was going on but said nothing. Stevens could only say that it was very hard to read those messages.

Lundquist was sentenced to three years’ probation in 1985 for engaging in sexual conduct with two girls at the school where he taught. However, he died in 1997 without ever answering for the alleged abuse against Stevens. Stevens’ mother is still alive but “really suffers from denial,” according to Stevens. The two do have a relationship, but as far as the author knows, her mother has never read the dissertation or book.

While Stevens may not yet get that form of closure, being able to help others and potentially be the fire that psychology departments need to create trauma courses could be further inspiration for her. And there’s one more piece of advice she has for aspiring psychologists and current psychologists, with or without trauma as a concentration area.

“Teachers can sit in a classroom with other teachers, but psychologists don’t sit in on other people’s sessions,” Stevens says. “When I started doing practicums, I was amazed by how few of my colleagues went to therapy. I couldn’t believe it. To be a good therapist, find other good therapists. Deal with your own stuff and set yourself free before you work on others.”

Why one psychologist took clinical hypnosis to ‘heart

Dr. Flavio Epstein

Dr. Flavio Epstein, a heart failure/transplant psychologist, wasn’t quite sure what results would come from being a first-time attendee at the American Society of Clinical Hypnosis (ASCH) Annual Scientific Meeting & Workshop. He was pleasantly surprised to get clinical hypnosis experience, a warm welcome from other medical professionals, and new ideas to help heart transplant patients.

I was already in my fourth year of business school at the University of Sao Paulo in Brazil when I came to the conclusion that I should have gone into psychology instead. In Brazil, it takes five years to earn a business degree, and I was almost at the finish line. But that didn’t stop me from attending a psychology-related conference with my mother and her friend, where I met Stanley Krippner, legendary professor from Saybrook University. While I don’t remember everything about the conference, what stood out were the talking points related to Humanistic Psychology and the significance of spirituality. That’s when I made the decision to pursue a psychology degree in California.

Pursuing the career I didn’t know I wanted
Saybrook was pretty small at the time, which was a bonus for me considering I’d never studied in the United States and was self-conscious about my writing and language skills. So after completing my business degree and a yearlong internship with the marketing department of American Express, I arrived at Saybrook in January 1990. I earned my master’s degree in Psychology in 1992 from Saybrook and went on to receive a Ph.D. in Psychology from Meridian University in Petaluma, Calif., in 2003. That was around the time I also developed an interest in working on a multi-disciplinary team with psychiatrists, psychologists, therapists, and other health care providers in the field of transplantation.

How clinical hypnosis entered the equation
Some of my most recent work includes assisting a team with evaluating patients for left ventricular assist device implants and for heart transplants, and presenting at centers of excellence; working on a feasibility study that focuses on a cognitive behavioral therapy protocol adapted for post-heart transplant patients; and pursuing certification in the clinical hypnosis certification program from Saybrook to add to my toolbox of interventions to help address complex issues faced by heart failure, left ventricular assist device, and post-heart patients, with whom I work.

Clinical hypnosis is an evidence-based psychological intervention that may help improve anxiety, depression, pain, nausea, and emotional distress, among other issues. I’m hoping that clinical hypnosis will help my patients manage the physical and psychological symptoms they struggle with, such as depression and anxiety, and improving their quality of life.

Attending the ASCH workshop
When I recently attended the advanced track of the American Society of Clinical Hypnosis (ASCH) Annual Scientific Meeting & Workshop in Phoenix, Arizona, as a first-timer, I must admit I was apprehensive.

Attendees from the American Society of Clinical Hypnosis (ASCH) Annual Scientific Meeting & Workshop

I was about to meet new colleagues from a number of health disciplines who were likely more seasoned hypnosis practitioners than me. To my delight, I could have not asked for a more welcoming professional crowd, such as the one I met at the ASCH conference.

I am a mid-career licensed psychologist, and clinical hypnosis student working under the mentorship of Dr. Willmarth, who was installed as president of ASCH at the same meeting. Professionals and students at the ASCH conference are eligible to participate as beginner, intermediate, or advanced, according to prior clinical hypnosis training programs. 

In the advanced course I was in, taught by G. Elkins and other well-known hypnosis researchers and clinicians, I met a number of friendly professionals, eager to share knowledge and experiences with each other and myself from events focused on clinical hypnosis, integrative medicine conferences, and mind-body medicine. Working as a psychologist in transplantation, I attend a number of international multidisciplinary conferences every year. Honestly, none of them are as welcoming.

But just as I have earned my own accomplishments, I’m always seeking to be around those who are as goal-oriented as me—but in an atmosphere that is not isolating or overly competitive. The ASCH conference was exactly that. I bonded with group members in just a few hours after my flight from San Francisco. I took a tour of Dr. Milton Erickson’s family home the first evening, met Dr. Erickson’s wife’s companion and the companion’s close friend, shared an Uber ride to our hotel, made lunch plans with the group, and chatted amicably with many participants at the different workshops.

I think that I have found my professional home, which has been my quest for many years. I encourage more students and professionals to join ASCH for the invaluable bonding and resources.

And if you’re interested in treating the whole person—not just the symptoms—Saybrook’s College of Integrative Medicine has top-notch professors and the integrative approach that I (and you) may be looking for.

‘Visions of Warriors’ brings attention to ongoing PTSD concerns for veterans

Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) reportedly affects approximately 7.7 million American adults, with members of the military as one of the high-risk groups. After experiencing severe trauma or life-threatening events, the mind and body will either go into mobilization mode (fight-or-flight) or immobilization. When the nervous system is unable to return to its normal state of balance, PTSD occurs. Depression, substance abuse, and anxiety disorders are often connected to instances of PTSD, particularly for veterans returning from war.

According to the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs, the reported cases of PTSD are jarring and continue to rise. A range of 12 to 30 percent of veterans were diagnosed with PTSD in a given year, including those from Operations Iraqi Freedom (OIF) and Enduring Freedom (OEF), the Gulf War (Desert Storm), and the Vietnam War.

Susan Quaglietti, who is currently in the Ph.D. in Psychology: Creativity Studies Specialization program at Saybrook, has been a nurse since 1978 and identified a need to do something creative to help the mental state of veterans.

The 2016 film “Visions of Warriors”—showing at the Vail Film Festival on March 31 and April 1, and the 15th Oakland International Film Festival on April 5—features Quaglietti’s work to develop the Veteran Photo Recovery Project, which uses photography to help veterans cope with PTSD and other mental illness diagnoses.

We sat down with her to discuss her background, her most memorable moments with veterans in the program, and what drew her to Saybrook later in life.

Susan Quaglietti and director Ming Lai from “Visions of Warriors” 2016 film (Photo courtesy of Susan Quaglietti)

Saybrook: How did you get introduced to the director/writer/producer of “Visions of Warriors,” Ming Lai?

Quaglietti: I asked the editor over at the Washington VA if they would post a story about the Veteran Photo Recovery Project, and they agreed to it. They interviewed me along with a few veterans. Ming actually saw that link, tried to contact me and ended up sending a letter.

Saybrook: What was your initial reaction to the idea of a feature documentary about the Veteran Photo Recovery Project?

Quaglietti: I couldn’t imagine who would want me on film! But I took it as a great opportunity. You just never know where life’s going to take you.

Saybrook: You have been a nurse for 40 years, but what is your connection to photography?

Quaglietti: In my 20s, I thought about majoring in art and eventually took a few photography classes in the late-2000s, but I never thought I could combine art and nursing together as a professional goal. However, after 30 years at the VA, I noticed the need to address mental health issues with veterans and coordinate this treatment with chronic care.  As providers, we must include the impact of coping with substance abuse, PTSD, and other psychological challenges on the outcomes of overall health.

I ended up doing a post-graduate fellowship at the Menlo Park VA that focused on Psychosocial Rehabilitation for people with severe mental illness as I was working as a nurse practitioner in Cardiology. The fellowship, in part, inspired me to integrate medical care with the creative outlet of photography as a form of recovery. The Veteran Photo Recovery Project was born, and the rest is history!

Saybrook: What topics are included in the five workshops that make up the Veteran Photo Recovery Project?

Quaglietti: The five sessions cover focusing, framing, processing, viewing. The sixth session is a presentation to the community, including other members of the class, friends, family members, and hospital staff members.

It’s an opportunity for them to use photography to showcase their emotional journey and to get insights to continue to grow as a person during their recovery process.

Susan Quaglietti is a nurse of 40 years and counting. (Photo courtesy of Susan Quaglietti)

Saybrook: What is the most memorable piece of art you’ve seen from a participant? 

Quaglietti: I have three. The first one was from a female veteran with a history of PTSD who chose to display her six images in the shape of a cross.

During her presentation with three horizontal and three vertical photos, she commented that she had to cope with “the cross she had to bear,” but was eventually resurrected with recovery. With the intention of making the spirit of the photos rise from the ashes, the art actually helped her transform and ascend into a better place.

The second one is from a veteran who is highlighted in the film. He spent half of his life in jail. He divided his six pictures equally into “old life,” “transition,” and “new life.”

The last one was a Vietnam veteran who has severe PTSD. He used colors and images metaphorically and symbolically to show his PTSD experience, and the horrific things he witnessed while in combat in Vietnam. In one particular image, he used the roots of a tree but changed the color to bright blue to resemble the neural pathways of his brain. He was trying to show what his brain felt like having PTSD—cold, blue, and dark.

Saybrook: What do you hope people come away with after seeing “Visions of Warriors”?

Quaglietti: Change is possible if you’re open to it. Creativity isn’t just used with art, but you have to be creative in order to map your own life course. Art and photography can be an avenue to explore that.

Saybrook: And now you are pursuing your Ph.D. at Saybrook—what inspired you to enroll?

Quaglietti: I chose Saybrook for the program’s creativity specialization within the Psychology PhD program. And I, to this day, have not found any other university that offers something similar. Being creative can impact your psychological perspective. I really believe in interdisciplinary, integrated care.

“Visions of Warriors” movie promo poster

As an advanced practice nurse, I’ve had to negotiate being a liaison for a lot of different disciplines: medicine, psychology, nutrition, pharmacy, and more.

I’ve had to represent and be a champion for veterans. So now I’m moving into understanding more of the psychological issues as a primary focus of my profession, knowing that I already have an excellent background in chronic illness. I’m completing the circle so that I have a broader scope of services I can offer patients. My goal is to be a bridge between the worlds of medicine and psychology for holistic patient care. Saybrook is helping me get there.

How I learned to use dance/movement therapy to help military veterans

As a Ph.D. student in Saybrook University’s Integrative Medicine and Health Sciences, I was recently asked to write a blog piece about my experience as a dance therapist that treats military and veteran patients. As I reflected on where I am, I realized that it is just as important to understand the roots of my journey. 

New York

When I started pursuing a career as a dance therapist, I didn’t know that I wanted to work with this population. I knew very little about veterans or military life, other than the fact that both of my grandfathers and two of my uncles had served. Yet when I began working with veterans, I felt this connection that I could not ignore. I may not be serving in the military in the traditional sense, but it is my hope that I am able to help veterans find a sense of peace and healing.

My first job as a dance/movement therapist was facilitating groups on inpatient psychiatric units in a hospital in New York City. It was exhausting but fulfilling. I had the privilege of sharing in patients’ most intimate and darkest experiences. Joining them on their journey taught me how to be empathic—not only in therapeutic relationships, but with all beings. In short, they taught me much of what I understand today about the human condition.

I remember one patient in particular who had been on the unit for months. He was chronically schizophrenic and homeless. Finding a more permanent placement for him was proving to be a challenge. He spent the days pacing the unit and mumbling to himself—visibly responding to internal stimuli through gestures, facial expressions, and physical postures.

I always invited him into the groups, even though he never indicated any signs of being interested. He never made eye contact with me, or anyone on the unit. Sometimes he would come into the group space and sit for a little while, but it didn’t take long before he was up and pacing again. Although he would come and go, I always made sure to welcome him warmly and greet him by his name.

The day finally came when a placement had been found for him, and a discharge date had been decided. During our time together, I noticed that one of the things that kept him going was the few cups of coffee that he received with his meals. So a few days before he left, I asked the psychiatrist if she would mind if I gave the patient a really good cup of coffee from a local coffee shop to bid him farewell and celebrate his moving on from the hospital. She agreed and the patient happily accepted his large cup of non-hospital cafeteria coffee.

The day the patient left, I went to say goodbye and wish him well. He looked me in the eyes for the first time in four months and spoke the only words he ever said during that time, “You saved my life.” He then quickly leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek before hurrying away.

He left behind a very stunned therapist.

It would’ve been easy for me to ignore this man as he paced and mumbled to himself all day. Instead I treated him as I did everyone else, and guess what? There was a living, breathing, feeling human being inside that rough exterior.

I reflect back on this experience often, carrying these deeply embedded lessons with me into every new therapeutic relationship.

1) Don’t make assumptions about others; you can never truly know what is going on inside of them.
2) Be your authentic self with people, and most of the time that is what you will receive in return.

First Steps

A couple of years into my work on the psych units, I became aware of a job opening at a local Veterans Affairs (VA) medical center. As I stated before, I knew very little about veterans or military life. For some reason, however, I felt drawn to the job, so I applied. Shortly thereafter I was called in for an interview.

Initially, I felt entirely undeserving to be asking for a job to treat veterans, and was overwhelmed as I entered the “official-looking” entryway to the VA. Yet, there was a part of me that felt comfortable among the camouflaged and weapon-laden guards. Eventually, I was hired as a creative arts therapist working in their Community Living Center (CLC), a nursing home.

The patients were mostly confined to wheelchairs, and many were suffering from dementia as well as other comorbidities—such as depression, post-traumatic stress disorder, and Parkinson’s Disease. These were World War II and Korean War Veterans: Soldiers who had long since seen a battlefield, but whose war stories were still very much alive in their bodies and minds.

What Does Dance/Movement Therapy Look Like?

You might be wondering how I engaged these patients in dance. Let’s start by clarifying a few things about dance/movement therapy (DMT).

It is a common misconception that DMT has to do with dance in the traditional sense—that is learning a specific sequence of movements within the style of a particular dance technique such as ballet or modern dance. While a DMT session may incorporate dance technique, it is more likely that it won’t look like a dance class at all.

What happens in a DMT session largely depends on the person or group of people in the session: It is the patients’ needs that drive the session. A dance/movement therapist is trained to use movement as a means of both analysis and treatment.

There was a man at the CLC who spent the entirety of his day in a Broda chair (similar to a reclined wheelchair). I started by sitting with him and attempting various ways of communicating. He couldn’t speak very well, had limited range of movement, and diminished muscle capacity. After a few sessions together and trying a few different stimuli, I discovered that he could toss a ball back and forth with some force. I will never forget the look on the nurses’ faces when they walked by and saw this man moving with power and intention.

Upon further exploration, I found that this same man loved music and expressed his adoration by rhythmically tapping his big toe along to the beat. Sometimes, I would help accentuate the feeling for him by gently tapping the same rhythm on his leg or arm so that he could feel it more completely.

DMT is about being with the patient—wherever they are—and moving with them in a way that is meaningful. What makes it therapy, and not just dance, is the relationship between the patient and the dance/movement therapist.

As this man’s therapist, I was aware of his diagnoses, psycho-social history, and physical limitations. I kept all this information in mind when I interacted with him, but what elicited his movement responses was the fact that I was being present with both his mind and his body.

To an outsider it may seem that his movements were subtle and perhaps inconsequential, but to those that knew him, those movements were as extraordinary as a grand jete by Barishnikov himself.

Finding My Calling

While working at the VA CLC, I met a man who happened to be on the same aircraft carrier as my grandfather during World War II. I wasn’t able to share this amazing connection with my grandfather as he recently passed away. But I was able to deepen my connection with him through my conversations with this veteran.

In fact, meeting this man who served alongside my grandfather made me feel connected across generations of warriors. I suddenly understood my own duty to serve and to continue passing this honor on to future generations. It was at that moment that I understood my calling was to serve those who have served.

The time came to move on from the Community Living Center when I received a job offer from a military medical facility in San Diego, CA.

It was difficult to leave these Veterans behind as I had grown to truly care for them. At the same time, I was excited to work with active duty military members—to learn about another area of the spectrum of military life. San Diego also happened to be the port that my grandfather’s ship deployed from: The thread of personal meaning would continue as I journeyed to the other side of the country.

The patient population that I was assigned to work with were receiving treatment for multiple diagnoses, including substance abuse, depression, anxiety, and PTSD. Although joined by their military experience, these men and women were facing a whole different set of challenges than the CLC Veterans. As active duty service members, their primary goal was still the mission. Recovery was important but only for the sake of being ready for their next order.  Their needs were also different than the CLC patients from a physical perspective.

Just as I did with the CLC Veterans, I met them where they were at, but with these soldiers I had to be prepared to respond to them with a different kind of readiness. The CLC veterans were in their last stages of life and my goal was to support them in finding moments of contentment, peace, connection, and relief from pain. With the active duty members, I supported their therapeutic goals by teaching them mind-body skills that they could carry with them and continue to utilize wherever the mission may take them.

This was also the time in my career when Saybrook University and I found each other. At the same time I was moving, breathing, and exploring with military soldiers, I was undergoing my own training, deepening my knowledge and understanding of mind-body skills alongside my own army of wellness warriors.

“How Do You Get Soldiers to Dance?”

During my time in San Diego, I was asked by the American Dance Therapy Association (ADTA) to participate in their ADTA Talks.

The project was based on the popular TED Talk series and the result was several dance/movement therapists coming together to talk about how they utilize their skills with various patient populations.

Being one of the very few dance/movement therapists that had the opportunity to work with the military and veteran population, I suddenly found myself as the expert in this niche field. One of the things I discussed in my talk was about how I “get a bunch of soldiers to dance.”

As you might imagine, this is a question I am asked often.

What I said in the talk and what I continue to tell people today is that when provided with a safe space and given the permission to move in their own way and in their own time, walls of resistance come down quickly. DMT isn’t about forcing anyone to dance, it is about allowing space for people to feel comfortable in their own skin. It is about empowering them to make meaningful choices for their health and wellbeing.

A service member once told me that he hadn’t found much room for creativity in his experience in the military, and he was grateful to be given the opportunity to express himself again. Another told me that he never realized the breathing technique he used for shooting could also help him relax and find more balance in his life. Still another, after a group session involving rigorous shaking movement and more open-ended expressive movement said, “That was transformational.”

There’s an importance in keeping it simple, yet still remaining authentic—coming back to the DMT mantra of “being with.” One of the simplest, most authentic practices we engaged in was walking. Once a week we would take a walk and just talk—no agenda, no goal setting, no therapy—just moving in our bodies together. It was one of the most popular groups in the program. Why? Because there was no judgment. We were all just “being with.”

It wasn’t about teaching dance moves, but about moving with each other in a meaningful way. Sometimes it might be adjusting your own pace to walk alongside someone or sitting with someone in silence. Once the service members allowed themselves to be in their bodies, they understood dance/movement therapy.

I eventually parted ways with San Diego, but before leaving, I spent some time looking out at the San Diego Bay—watching the Navy ships and submarines come and go. I wondered if, as his ship deployed to the Pacific Islands, my grandfather took a moment to look back to the shore—gazing at the same place where I was sitting.

The next stop on my journey was a little farther north at another Veterans Affairs CLC in Palo Alto, Calif. (VAPAHCS).

During my time there I continued to use my DMT skills to help increase the quality of veterans’ end of life experiences. It was also during this time that Michelle Obama challenged America to dance as part of her “Gimme Five” initiative.

She performed a short piece of choreography with Ellen DeGeneres on the Ellen Show and encouraged people to film themselves performing the dance and then to share it on social media. I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to encourage both patients and staff to dance. With some help from my student intern and some other dedicated colleagues, we were able to capture footage of patients and staff taking the First Lady’s challenge. Our message was that every BODY can dance, even if you are confined to a wheelchair. The resulting video was released on the VA’s Facebook page and still lives there today.

Coming Full Circle

I am now back on the East Coast working with active duty service members again as the wellness coordinator in an integrative traumatic brain injury treatment program. I have had the opportunity to create and implement a mind-body program, focused on providing service members with the skills to manage and maintain their health and wellness regardless of where the mission may take them next. As I help service members build their skills, I continue to build my own as well as I move toward the end of my doctoral studies at Saybrook.

I may not have experienced war firsthand, but I have certainly felt the range of human emotion. This is why the story of the man on the psych unit in New York stays with me. Our emotions are what connect us, and we all feel our emotions in our bodies.

Whether you are a homeless man with schizophrenia or an Army Colonel, we are all living, breathing, moving human beings. These commonalities are something that we should all be reminded of, particularly during this time of unrest in our world. In the wise words of Barack Obama, “The theater is necessary. Dance is necessary. Song is necessary. The arts are necessary—they are a necessary part of our lives.”

Allison Winters is a Ph.D. student in Saybrook University’s Mind-Body Medicine program. Currently, she works as the Wellness Coordinator at an integrative traumatic brain injury program, where she uses Dance/Movement Therapy to help veterans manage and maintain wellness. She and her life dance partner, Doug, are currently cutting loose in Silver Spring, MD with their two tiny dancers, Charlie and Lily.

How to become a licensed mental health professional

Are you considering a career as a licensed mental health professional? Does pursuing a career as a licensed counselor seem overwhelming?

Don’t panic.

You’re not alone. The field of psychology, in particular, counseling psychology, can be difficult to navigate. There are a host of different programs, degrees, and paths that can lead you toward becoming a licensed mental health professional. However, if you’re interested in bettering the lives of individuals, children, or families, then there are very few career options that will be as rewarding as becoming a licensed mental health professional.

Let’s consider the basic elements involved with becoming a licensed mental health professional.

At a glance:

  • Earn a master’s or doctoral degree from a qualifying university or college
  • Earn post-degree experience
  • Apply to take the licensure examination
  • After passing the examination, apply for initial licensure
  • Receive license

Now, let’s look at these a little more closely.

What is a Qualifying University or College?

Counselor licensing is made difficult by the fact that each state in the U.S. has its own specific requirements for licensure, and these requirements can oftentimes be difficult to find and confusing to unravel. However confusing licensure may be, there are two attributes that are vitally important if you are interested in becoming a licensed mental health professional.

First, it’s important to find a university that is accredited. This may be the most important factor in determining which school and what program to choose when pursuing a career as a licensed mental health professional. Accreditation is given to universities by accreditation bodies that are recognized by the U.S. government. For example, Saybrook University is accredited by the Senior Commission of Western Association of Schools and Colleges (WASC) and has been since 1984.

Second, the program needs to meet the standards of whatever state you plan to practice in. Saybrook University’s Master’s in Psychology program: Counseling Specialization meets the degree and coursework requirements to become a licensed mental health counselor (LMHC) or licensed marital and family therapist (MFT) in the State of Washington.

Additionally, Saybrook offers specific tracks for students who wish to practice in Oregon. If you wish to practice in a different state, there may be additional requirements that you will need to complete in order to sit for the licensure exam.

After you have completed your program and received your degree, you will need to gain post-graduate supervised experience. Once that is complete, you may sit for the licensure exam of that state. After passing the exam, and a background check, you can apply for licensure of that your state.

Licensed Mental Health Professional Programs

Once you’ve found an accredited university and a program that will prepare you for the exam, your next step is to find a program that is right for you—one that will best prepare you for a career as a licensed mental health professional. Start by looking at these questions:

  • What area of counseling are you interested in?
  • Will you continue to work?
  • Do you have family obligations?


If you are uncertain on your ultimate career plans—or if you want to be a generalist—then it may be in your best interest to find a program that offers a wide variety of options. The Master’s in Psychology: Counseling Specialization at Saybrook University offers a strong foundation in various areas of counseling. In addition, Saybrook offers an online model that has been ranked in the top twenty for online counseling degrees.

In conclusion, the field of psychology can certainly be difficult to navigate, particularly for those interested in careers as licensed mental health professionals. However, provided that you are able to locate a program that is both accredited and flexible, you can begin the process of discovering which path is best for you to become a licensed mental health professional.

The Balloon

Education Beyond Borders: Immigration in Contexts provided students and faculty the opportunity to take part in a study abroad course that examined global topics from a multi-disciplinary lens. Dr. Kent Becker reflects on how this experience in Berlin impacted him by highlighting the challenges that refugees face and providing clarity to the connections that all human beings share.

The image was brilliant. To help tell her story, she captured a photo through the lenses of a pair of eye glasses. Everything through the lenses were in black and white while the rest of the image was in vivid color.

I was invited to reflect on how life can be seen in different ways.

His story began with a compelling image of a sculpture of two individuals, riddled with holes.  They were caught in intense conflict, clutched in each other’s grip, and unaware that they were both drowning.

I was drawn into a civil war in which neither side wins and both sides lose precious lives.

What do they have in common? Both told the stories of a refugee. Both stories challenged my limited understanding of a “refugee.” Both stories were shared with grace, confidence, and passion. And, both stories unfolded inside the Balloon.

The Balloon, as they call it, is the home for approximately 250-300 refugees or newcomers to Berlin. Having arrived from a variety of countries, each refugee and newcomer has a unique yet interconnected story. And for a brief period, I was blessed to be a part of their journeys.

As one of five faculty members for our first cross-affiliate study abroad course, my primary task was to teach students, faculty, and shelter residents how to use photovoice as a tool to share one’s story—facilitating the telling and sharing of their stories through personal photographs and narratives. Their lives. Their images. Their words.

Prior to our first photovoice session inside the Balloon, the shelter manager (Majdi) and I met with our cross-college group. Majdi provided the group with a deeper understanding of the shelter and those it served. He emphasized that the shelter residents desired to share who they were as human beings—beyond their current identity as refugees.

After providing a quick overview of the photovoice process, I stressed two points:

  • The importance of being flexible and open. Community-based advocacy has a life of its own and needs to be malleable so the work best meets the needs of those being served.
  • As photovoice facilitators, our primary responsibility was to be truly present (physically, emotionally, spirituality, etc.). This way, the stories that yearned to be told could surface within a safe space.

At this point, I would guess that most of the group understood our role but in an abstract way.

That was soon to change.

Over the course of five sessions across a twelve-day period, students from diverse disciplines (psychology, law, education, marriage and family therapy, etc.) and shelter residents from diverse lands (Syria, Afghanistan, Africa, etc.) stepped into relationship with total strangers. Limited by language barriers, they connected through photos and stories of the past and hopes for the future.

However, it was not until our final session that I allowed myself to witness these connections. I had lost myself in the details and pressures of the project (not my first time). While right in front of me the true work—the meaning of our trip—was filling the room. Finally, I allowed myself to sit back, breathe, and take in what was unfolding all around me.

Within the Balloon, our students connected and listened as shelter residents shared their stories. At Saybrook we often discuss the importance of the relationship and the critical need of demonstrating compassionate presence in the lives of others. As the residents stood beside their photovoice projects and shared their stories, those listening and viewing the stories were completely present.

And so was I.

On the evening before our final session and celebration, a terrorist attacked a Berlin Christmas market by driving through the crowd with a stolen truck. Tragically, he killed twelve people and injured 56 others. It was a somber night as we confirmed the safety of our students, and all of us reconnected with loved ones back home. For a moment, I experienced what the shelter residents had experienced in their home countries.

For a moment, I feared what might come next. That line between refugee and non-refugee faded. That line between American and non-American faded. And as these lines faded, the purpose of becoming globally engaged surfaced with absolute clarity.