Unit 4.1 DB: Racial/Ethnic Backgrounds

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Articles, Websites, and Videos:

This provides the Racial Equity Tools Glossary.

· Glossary . (n.d.). Racial Equity Tools.

A report from the Ohio Chapter of the National Association of Social Workers (NASW) to “clarify the social work profession’s role in addressing systemic racism and police violence against people of color”.

· Ensuring Black Lives Matter . (2016). National Association of Social Workers. 

This looks at Native American Issues today.

· Native American Issues Today Current Problems & Struggles 2020 . (2020, Jan 5). PowWows.com.

Types of Racial Inequality Info graph.

· Types of Racial Inequity . (n.d.). Race & Social Justice Initiative

A Day in the Life: How Racism Affects Families of Color Info graph.

· A Day in a Life: How Racism Impacts Families of Color . (2017, Sep 11). Living Cities. 

Systemic Racism Explained.

Systemic Racism Explained

Duration: 4:24 User: n/a - Added: 4/16/19

David Williams, Public Health Sociologist, discusses how racism affects well-being.

· Williams, D. (2016, Nov).  How racism makes us sick TEDMED 2016.

Unit 4 Ch.11

Working with Latino/a Clients: An Interview with Roberto Almanzan

11-1Demographics

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With the 2000 Census, Latinos/as became the largest racial minority in the United States, numbering 35,305,818, or 12.5 percent of the U.S. population. These figures increased in July 2016 when the U.S. Census Bureau reported Latinos/as at 17.8 percent of the U.S. population. Projections into the future suggest that by the year 2100, Latinos/as will make up one-third of the U.S. population. This dramatic growth is attributed to high birth and fertility rates, immigration patterns, and the average young age of the population. As a collective, Latinos/as are quite diverse, including individuals whose roots are in Mexico, Cuba, Puerto Rico, and Central and South Americas. Those of Mexican descent, now numbering 20 million, make up 64 percent of the Hispanic population, Puerto Ricans at 3.4 million and 10 percent, Cubans at 1.2 million and 4 percent, and South and Central Americans at 3.1 million and 10 percent. See Chapter 1 for more demographic information.

For the purpose of Census data, the government considers race and Hispanic origins as “two separate and distinct concepts.” The term  Hispanic  is used to denote a common Spanish-speaking background. A notable exception, however, are Latinos/as of Brazilian descent whose native language is Portuguese. Racially, individuals of Mexican descent identify their roots as “ mestizo ” (i.e., a mixture of Spanish and Indian backgrounds). Puerto Ricans consider themselves of Spanish descent, Cubans of Spanish and black descent, and Latin Americans of having varying mixtures of Spanish, Japanese, Italian, and black heritage.

Geographically, Latino/a populations are largely urban and concentrated in the Southwest, Northeast, and in the state of Florida, according to country of origin: Mexican Americans in Texas, California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Illinois, where they make up a significant proportion of each state’s population; Puerto Ricans in large northeastern urban areas; and Cubans in the Miami area.

The vast majority of Latinos/as are Spanish-speaking, are Roman Catholic, and share a set of cultural characteristics that are described later. One must be careful, however, to not underemphasize the differences among groups; there are as many differences as there are similarities. Compared to non-Hispanics (again, a Census term rather than an identity of choice among most group members), Latinos/as tend to be younger—on average younger than thirty years old and nine years younger than the average white American; poorer—40 percent of Hispanic children live below the poverty line; less educated—approximately 30 percent leave high school before graduation (the highest rate of all minorities); and more consistently unemployed or relegated to unskilled and semi-skilled jobs.

A unique set of factors related to their entry and circumstances in the United States puts Latinos/as at high risk for physical and psychological difficulties. Included are pressures around bilingualism, immigration and rapid acculturation, adjustment to American society, intergenerational and cultural conflict, poverty, racism, and the loss of cultural identity.

As our expert guest, Roberto Almanzan, indicates, a central factor in understanding the psychological situation of most Latino/a clients is their individual experience, as well as the experience of their family units in migrating to the United States.

11-2Family and Cultural Values

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As a collective, Latino/a subgroups share a language, Spanish; a religion, Roman Catholicism; and a series of cultural values that define and structure group life. See Chapter 5 for more information on cultural values.

Carrasquillo (1991) lists the following shared values:

· Importance of the family, both nuclear and extended, or familialismo

· Emphasis on interdependence and cooperation, or  simpatico

· Emphasis on the worth and dignity of the individual, or personalismo

· Valuing of the spiritual side of life

· Acceptance of life as it exists

Garcia-Preto (1996) offers an excellent description of the nature of Latino/a families:

Perhaps the most significant value they share is the importance placed on family unity, welfare and honor. The emphasis is on the group rather than on the individual. There is a deep sense of family commitment, obligation, and responsibility. The family guarantees protection and caretaking for life as long as the person stays in the system … The expectation is that when a person is having problems, others will help, especially those in stable positions. The family is usually an extended system that encompasses not only those related by blood and marriage, but also “compadres” (godparents) and “hijos de cnanza” (adopted children, whose adoption is not necessarily legal). “Compadrazco” (godparenthood) is a system of ritual kinship with binding, mutual obligations for economic assistance, encouragement, and even personal correction. “Hijos de cnanza” refers to the practice of transferring children from one nuclear family to another within the extended family in times of crisis. The others assume responsibility, as if children were their own, and do not view the practice as neglectful. (p. 151)

Family roles and duties are highly structured and traditional, as are sex roles, which are referred to as machismo and  marianismo . Males, the elderly, and parents are afforded special respect, and children are expected to be obedient and deferential, contribute to family finances, care for younger siblings, and act as parent surrogates. Males are expected to exhibit strength, virility, dominance, and provide for the family; females are expected to be nurturing, submit to the males, and self-sacrifice (Sue and Sue, 1999). Both boys and girls are socialized into these roles early. Boys are given far more freedom—encouraged to be aggressive and act manly—and discouraged from playing with girls and engaging in female activities. Girls are trained early in household activities and are severely sheltered and restricted as they grow older.

The authoritative structure of the family also reflects a broader characteristic of Latino/a culture, which includes the valuing of conformity, obedience, deference to authority, and subservience to the autocratic attitudes of external organizations and institutions. Individuals from such high-powered and distancing cultures are most comfortable in hierarchical structures where there is an obvious power differential and expectations are clearly defined. Professionals and helpers who disrespect this power distance—by deemphasizing their authority, trying to make the interaction more democratic, communicating indirectly, or using subtle forms of control, such as sarcasm, and causing an individual to lose face—tend to confuse, alienate, and disrespect Latino/a clients. Respect for authority can also have its shadow side by forcing individuals from high power distant cultures to adapt to the status quo, as well as restraining them from asserting their rights. Garcia-Preto (1996) offers the example of illegal migrants whose cultural hesitancy is exacerbated only by the fear of being caught and sent back to more oppressive and dangerous circumstances.

Personalismo —an interpersonal attitude that acknowledges the basic worth and dignity of all individuals and attributes to them a sense of self-worth—serves as a powerful social lubricant in Latino/a culture. Unlike mainstream American culture, where respect is garnered through achievement, status, and wealth, the individual in Latino/a culture merits respect by the very fact of his or her humanity. Simpatico, or valuing of cooperation and interdependence, is a natural outgrowth of personalismo. Competing, undermining the efforts of another, asserting one’s individuality, and working to inflate one’s ego are all viewed negatively in Latino/a culture. In cultures where the needs of the individual are suppressed to serve the interests of the group—the dimension of culture that Brown and Landrum- Brown (1995) call “the individual vs. the extended self” (see Chapter 5)—the individual ego must be contained, and this is done through simpatico, which serves to promote cooperation, noncompetition, and the avoidance of conflict between individuals.

A final series of values in Latino/a culture relate to beliefs fostered by the Roman Catholic Church. These include:

· Focus on spirituality and the life of the spirit

· Fatalistic acceptance of life as it exists

· Time orientation toward the present

Latino/a culture places as much emphasis on non-rational experience as it does on the material world. Belief in visions, omens, spirits, and spiritual healers is commonplace, and such phenomena are viewed from within the culture as normative rather than pathological. Latinos/as are also willing to forgo and even sacrifice material comfort in the pursuit of spiritual goals. Yamamoto and Acosta (1982), for example, suggest that the Latino/a church emphasizes that sacrifice in this world promotes salvation, that one must be charitable, and that wrongs against the person should be endured. Sue and Sue (1999) assert that because of such beliefs, “many Hispanics have difficulty behaving assertively. They feel that problems or events are meant to be and cannot be changed” (p. 290). This relates in turn to a time orientation to the present that is shared by most Latinos/as. Focus tends to be on the here and now, not on what has happened in the past or what will happen in the future. Present-oriented cultures place special value on the nature and quality of interpersonal relationships as opposed to their history or functionality. Such an orientation is psychologically related to a kind of fatalism and particularly common in peoples who suffer economic deprivation and powerlessness and find themselves at the whim and mercy of those with more power. The family and cultural values identified in this section are still true in current literature (Adames and Chavez-Dueñas, 2016).

11-3Our Interviewee

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Roberto Almanzan, M.S., is a counselor, teacher, trainer, and consultant on diversity and multicultural issues in the San Francisco Bay Area. He has worked with schools, corporations, mental health agencies, and various nonprofit organizations. He also teaches in the multicultural program at the Wright Institute, Berkeley. He has trained with Stirfry Seminars in Berkeley and was a key participant in the film The Color of Fear—produced in 1994 and probably the most widely used film in training and education on racism—and participated in the production of The Color of Fear 2 and The Color of Fear 3 as well as a number of other documentaries on racism, privilege, and social justice.

11-3aThe Interview

Question:

First, could you begin by talking about your ethnic background and how it has impacted your work?

Almanzan:

I am Mexican, and this ethnic and cultural identity has been an influential factor in most facets of my life. It was my experiences as a Mexican American in a white-dominated society that really motivated me to do the kind of work that I do, much of which involves healing in the lives of people of color and in the relationships between them and with people of European descent. I’m the second generation born in the United States. My grandparents on my father’s side migrated from Chihuahua in the north of Mexico to El Paso, Texas, on the border. My grandfather was a carpenter. He married my grandmother in Parral, Chihuahua, and in the early 1900s in search of work, he went to El Paso, Texas, where he found employment. Shortly, he brought his wife and first child to El Paso. My father and other children were born there, and in gradual steps over ten years, the family moved to Los Angeles, where my father grew up.

My mother’s family came from Sonora, a northern state on the western edge of Mexico and settled in Douglas, Arizona, another border town. I don’t know much about my maternal grandparents. They both died before I was born. I do know that my mother’s father was a successful businessman. My mother’s family was large, like many Mexican families. My maternal grandfather owned a large general store and stables in Douglas. All the children, including my mother, were born in Douglas, so the family was settled there. My grandfather was able to send his eldest son, Jose, to Stanford University in 1915. However, when the United States entered World War I in 1917, my grandfather feared that his son was going to end up in the U.S. military fighting in the war. He did not want his son to go to war in Europe, so he pulled him out of the university and brought him home. He sold everything in Douglas, moved his family back to Mexico, and settled in Mexicali, a city on the border with California.

In the 1920s in Los Angeles, my father was the first of his family to graduate from high school. Some of his classmates from Polytechnic High School went to Stanford University. After hearing about Stanford from his friends, he set his mind on joining them. He was accepted at Stanford, and although he had to drop out for a while due to lack of finances, he graduated from Stanford as a civil engineer in 1933. Racism and the Depression made it very difficult for my father to land an engineering job. He finally ended up working for an American company that was doing some surveying in the agricultural area around Mexicali. My mother was living there with her eldest brother, Jose, and his family. By a miraculous coincidence, the kind that only happens in real life, my father was placed on a survey crew led by my mother’s brother, Jose. It wasn’t long before Jose introduced my father to his eligible sister, Bella. My father met my mother, courted her, and they married. I was their first child, born in Calexico, again on the border in California.

This was the history of my family, a border existence, back and forth, living on both sides. I grew up in Los Angeles but with family in Ensenada, Mexicali, and as far south as Mexico City. We visited our relatives in Ensenada and Mexicali often and occasionally our relatives in Mexico City. They visited us, sometimes staying for extended periods of time. I always thought of all of us as Mexicans. I was a Mexican that lived in the United States (en este lado—on this side) and they were Mexicans that lived in Mexico (al otro lado—on the other side). I was not aware of the differences between us and the privilege that I had growing up within the United States. So, I was shocked the first time my Mexican cousins called me a pocho, which is a derogatory term for Mexicans who have become Americanized by living in the United States. They could easily see and hear a difference in me and my life, but I couldn’t, not for a long time. I thought I was Mexican. I didn’t want to think of myself as different and therefore separate from them. But I was and am a pocho. I realized that I was culturally different from my relatives in Mexico.

I grew up in a Mexican barrio in East Los Angeles. We started out in Boyle Heights and moved eastward as I grew older. All the teachers, counselors, principals, police officers, anyone in authority in East Los Angeles then was white. Although there was racism present and a white power structure, I felt fairly protected and supported in my identity, as most of the people in my environment were Mexican, and I was enveloped in my extended family. It was a white world, but in some way, I did not really see that until I graduated from Garfield High School and, following my father’s footsteps, went to Stanford University. That was fifty years ago. There was no diversity on the Stanford campus then. The need to include American students of color in universities or the benefits of a racially integrated student environment did not exist and were not known. The only ones I could see who were non-white on campus were the international students from Asia, Africa, and Latin America. I ended up hanging out at the International House because, in a way, I felt more at home there and more included.

Question:

What led you to become a human service provider and involved in the kind of diversity training you do?

Almanzan:

It’s kind of a jagged history. When I graduated from Stanford with a degree in international relations, my first job was working for the State Department of Employment (now EDD) in one of its newly created Youth Opportunity Centers. There were at the time various efforts to locate satellite offices in minority communities in San Francisco and other cities and target youth of color for intensive counseling and support services in finding employment or vocational training. I worked in these programs for several years—at first excited by what seemed to be a shift in attitude and a desire to do more for people in minority communities. In time, however, I grew discouraged with things that were going on around me. Many of the people we had trained were coming back through for another vocational training program. It seemed like the programs were not working, and we were just going through the motions.

My disenchantment led me in another direction. It seemed to me that what we needed was to build our own economic institutions, engage in economic development for the community, start businesses and employ people from our communities, and train them in business practices and leadership. I started a business importing handcrafted sterling silver jewelry from Mexico and wholesaling to retailers. I managed to sell to retailers from the East Coast to Hawaii, but the business never became the multimillion-dollar enterprise that I had envisioned. I worked in this business for twenty years, and it supported me and my family, but in a way, it was not deeply fulfilling. Yet, I did not know what other work I could do or how I could transition.

In the mid-80s, I was drawn to the men’s movement and attended several men’s groups and conferences. I liked that men were encouraged to talk openly to each other about their inner lives in ways that men don’t usually do. It was referred to as “men’s work,” although almost all of the men who participated were middle class, white, and heterosexual. I thought if we are really doing “men’s work,” where were the black men, the Latinos, the Asians, or the Native Americans? I met other men of color and gay men who wanted more diversity. Together, several of us went to the organizers of a large upcoming conference and challenged them to change it in ways that made it more accessible and attractive to men of color and gay men. After a bit of resistance, they agreed, and we created the most diverse men’s conference I had ever seen.

My interest in these diversity issues led to a career change. I applied to CSU East Bay (Hayward) to enter their master’s program in counseling. Shortly after, I was accepted, and before classes started, I was asked to participate in a documentary film about a racially diverse group of men talking about race and ethnicity. That documentary film was The Color of Fear. After earning my master’s, I worked with immigrants, particularly Latinos, at The Center for New Americans in Contra Costa County. I kept getting requests to facilitate dialogue based on The Color of Fear, and these increased to the point that I had to make a choice between continuing my work with immigrants or to focus on dealing more directly with diversity issues. Although working with Latino immigrants and their families was very satisfying, I decided to focus on the diversity work because it connected me deeply with issues I had been dealing with all my life.

Question:

Who are the Latinos and Latinas, and what characteristics do they share as a group?

Almanzan:

Latinos  refers to people whose ancestry lies in the nations to the south, who were originally conquered by Spain in the early sixteenth century, with the exception of Brazil, which was occupied by Portugal. Except for Brazil, where Portuguese is spoken, and a few other countries with historical connections to other European nations, all share Spanish as a common language. Although many Latinos in the United States today are immigrants or children of immigrants, some Latinos have lived in the United States for many generations. Some families have lived in the Southwestern part of the United States since before it was taken from Mexico in 1848 in the U.S.-Mexican War. Even though many of these Latinos have lost their Spanish-language skills, they still share many cultural traits with recent immigrants.

Latinos, first of all, share a deep belief in and connection to their extended families—a sense of family loyalty and honor that’s very powerful. Often, extended family members live in close proximity to each other, and family members visit with each other often. When I was young, we visited my grandparents every weekend and sometimes during the week. Other members of our extended family would visit at the same time so that we spent a lot of time with our uncles, aunts, and cousins. This is different from what we see today in the dominant U.S. culture where the nuclear family and individualism are most valued. Among Latinos, the family is often more important than the individual. Extended family members often help each other in whatever way is needed. Sometimes, for economic or other reasons, children may live with an uncle and aunt for a while. In my family, we had different cousins and an aunt live with us at different times.

Latinos also share a sense of basic respect for the person—a sense that everyone merits respect and dignity whatever their status socially or economically. Elders especially merit respect and honor. Elders live within the family, are looked after and consulted, and treated with great dignity. My paternal grandmother, who survived my grandfather, was definitely the head of the family while she was alive. Interactions with Latinos need to convey a sense of respect in order to communicate effectively.

There is also a personal warmth that is expressed between people that often includes physical expression and connection. Latinos are much more likely to embrace, to touch, to kiss on the cheek, to connect with each other physically. There is also a certain generosity and willingness to share what one has with others. Often, this is expressed through food. When someone comes to the home, they are always offered something to eat, no matter who it is. In fact, if you are working with Latinos as a provider, it would not be unusual to be brought some kind of food during the relationship, and it has no meaning other than an act of kindness, gratitude, and respect.

Latino culture is hierarchical. Latinos hold authority and those with it in high esteem: doctors, priests, lawyers, therapists, counselors, and any other providers of services. Their authority is respected and listened to because it is assumed that they hold special knowledge that can be beneficial. They are likely to pay close attention to and follow the directions of such authority figures as long as those don’t conflict with their values and traditions.

Latinos also tend to be religious—the majority of them Catholic. I remember that my mother always had an altar somewhere in the house where she lit candles and prayed, perhaps with an image of la Virgen (the Virgin Mary), a crucifix, and a rosary. Evangelical Christians are not uncommon, and one also sees in some areas elements of the Catholic religion with native Indian traditions, practices, and beliefs. In Cuba, Dominican Republic, Brazil, and elsewhere, Catholicism is mixed with African religions. Santeria is the most common and is a melding of Catholic and Yoruba beliefs.

Time also takes on a different flavor than in dominant white culture. Latinos tend to be more flexible about it and tend to experience the precision and narrowness of the white definition of time as overly rigid and often problematic. They don’t think of time in such rigid concepts, and this can be a source of conflict. Latinos may not show up for appointments at the exact time specified. Punctuality does not have the same importance and value for Latinos or often for other people of color as it does for the dominant culture. Time does not take precedence over other matters, such as greeting others or attending to personal relationships.

A final difference has to do with gender roles and the concepts of machismo and marianismo. For men, the concept of machismo has been very much distorted and corrupted in the popular media in United States. In its purest form, it refers to the sense of responsibility the male feels to care for and protect his family and those around him. Especially in the United States, it has come to mean a sense of bravado, being loud, aggressive, and tough. This is really its shadow side. Latin America itself has been influenced by this distorted image through the media and has come to increasingly see machismo in this way. I remember growing up with this image of Mexican men from the movies I saw and was shocked when I asked my mother, and she told me this was not machismo. She said that machismo means that “you must make sure that your wife and children are safe and cared for and that you always show respect to your elders.” Similarly, marianismo, the role of women in Latino culture, has come to be wrongly defined by its extremes. It is the tendency in women toward self-sacrifice and a focusing on the needs of others for the benefit of the family as well as to acquiesce to their husband’s role as the head of the family.

Question:

Could you now talk a bit more about the various names that different Latino and Latina subgroups use to describe and identify themselves?

Almanzan:

The two most commonly used names today are Hispanics and Latinos/Latinas.  Hispanic  is a term that was adopted by the federal government in the early 70s for census and administrative purposes in order to create a single category for all the people whose origins are in Latin America. It seems to have been adopted more by people in Texas and on the East Coast. It is less popular in California. I prefer the term Latino. Hispanic doesn’t acknowledge our indigenous past, and that’s an important part of who I am. I identify more with the indigenous part than the Spanish. My family comes from Mexico, as do the majority of Latinos in the United States. I call myself Mexican American. Many people from Latin America are mestizos; that is, of mixed race that may include indigenous, African, Spanish, Portuguese, Jewish (Jews who converted to survive), Asians, and other Europeans. Identification as a mestizo is less common in parts of South America, where there is more of a tendency to identity with Spanish roots and with other Europeans. Some immigrants from these countries do not connect with the concept of being Latino or being a person of color.

A final term is  Chicano  or Chicana. Its origins probably go back to the 1920s and was developed by Mexican Americans who found themselves no longer from Mexico but also not clearly from the United States. It tended to be taken on by the young, coming out of the streets, and spoken with a sense of pride and assertiveness. I am Chicano. I am this hybrid. Those of the middle and upper classes tended to look down on them. They didn’t want to be associated with being called Chicano. In the ’60s and early ’70s, there was a real sense of pride when Mexican Americans called themselves Chicanos. The term was associated with a struggle for civil rights and social justice. It is not widely used by Latinos whose origins are not in Mexico. The majority of Latinos today, if asked how they identify, would probably refer to their country of origin—I’m Mexican or Guatemalan or Peruvian or Colombian—or where their parents or ancestors came from. There is so much variety that one needs to ask a Latino or Latina how he or she identifies.

Question:

Could you describe some of the shared history that Latinos and Latinas bring with them to the United States?

Almanzan:

An important piece of our shared history is the fact that we were all colonized. We come from countries that were colonized and did not gain their independence until the nineteenth century. Historically, that’s not very long ago. Along with this, there is a sense—that many immigrants carry with them—of having been bullied and oppressed by the United States. There is a long political history of the United States running roughshod over the interests and the peoples of Latin American. One-third of Mexico was in fact taken as a result of the War of 1848. This represents the whole of the U.S. Southwest: Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Nevada, Utah, and parts of Colorado and Wyoming.

Even though this may seem like ancient history to many in the United States, it is still very much alive for Mexicans in Mexico. I remember growing up and being aware of a statue in one of the main parks in Mexico City of the cadets who were the last holdouts when the Americans invaded Mexico City. They all committed suicide, jumping from the highest tower of the national military institute—one wrapped in a Mexican flag—rather than surrender. This sense of pride in their history and connection to the past is something that is important to many. For some Latinos— those from Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras, and Peru—this sense of history stretches back thousands of years to indigenous civilizations that predated the invasions of the Europeans.

Many Central American immigrants—who have come more recently—share a history of war, repression, imprisonment, and torture at the hands of regimes that were supported by the United States. Many fled for their lives from their Central American countries and carry emotionally stressful memories of what happened to themselves, their families, or neighbors.

Another shared experience, which we will be talking about at greater length later, is the process of migration.

Question:

Let’s switch our focus and begin to look at issues related to providing services to the Latino community. Could you talk about factors that influence how Latinos and Latinas go about seeking help when they have problems?

Almanzan:

First, it is important to keep in mind the great diversity within Latino culture. When I talk about aspects of service delivery—how members of the Latino community go about looking for help, for example—I will be making generalizations that cover many but not all Latinos. What I will be sharing are general guidelines, but these may vary from case to case.

The Latinos most likely to be looking for help or finding themselves with problems are recent immigrants and first-generation born in this country. Latinos will turn to their own extended families for help first. After that, they will usually go to their church for help. The church plays a powerful role in their lives, so when they encounter problems, it is often the first place they turn to outside the family. As much as possible, they will first try to solve their problems within the family. If there is a respected elder available, they might speak to him or her. If the problem revolves around issues of physical or mental health and the family believes in folk healers, they might consult a curandera or curandero. But, in general, they are more likely to first approach their priest or clergyman.

If they are willing to approach an agency, it is usually one that exists in their community and one with which someone they know and trust has had some experience. They have seen the agency and know of its existence in the community. They may know some of the people who work there or people who know people who work there. They may have family members, neighbors, or friends that have received services there. In some way, there needs to be a personal connection and credibility, often through word of mouth. They are less likely to seek services outside their community or speak to people who are strangers and not of their community. Referrals to unfamiliar agencies are most likely to be successful if they are made by someone familiar to the client’s family.

In relation to mental health services, the less acculturated the individual or family, the less likely they are to look for mental health treatment. For many Latinos, mental health problems are manifested through physical symptoms. More obvious emotional problems—anxiety, depression, paranoia—are understood as having had the evil eye put on them (mal ojo), been cursed by a witch (bruja), or a case of irritated nerves (ataque de nervios, susto). They don’t usually look for therapy and to do so is often considered shameful.

I have sought therapeutic help at various times in my own life. My mother was scandalized when I told her that I had gone to see a therapist when I was at Stanford. She was perplexed and really outraged. “How can you do this? What are you talking to them about? You’re going to talk to somebody outside the family? What do you think I’m here for? What do you think your father’s here for?” It was scandalous and even offensive to conceive that someone outside the family would know about any problems within the family. In her declining years, before her death, my mother was living alone, having a hard time, but refusing to move. She would not leave her house, and we could only visit her every few days. We had a social worker come to see her once every week to listen, converse, and offer help. My mother wanted to believe that she was a friend coming by to talk, which meant she could then talk personally with her. My mother would put out coffee and some food and have a social visit with her. It took her about a year to realize that this was in fact counseling, and she immediately cut it off. Many Latinos—depending on class, education, and acculturation—are just not open to mental health approaches, especially nondirective therapy. If they do find themselves seeing a therapist or counselor, what they expect is good advice, not a free-flowing dialogue or therapeutic reflections. They want to be told what they need to do, what they should do, or where they can access resources.

Question:

What are some of the common problems that Latino clients might bring to you as a counselor?

Almanzan:

Many problems have to do with the process of immigration—coming to this country and not knowing how the system works. How do I do this? I got this letter from immigration—where do I go? Where can I get some legal assistance? What to do about food stamps. Very much related are the difficulties of learning and understanding English and, as a result, being taken advantage of, for example, by landlords. Being ripped off for their deposits or having their rent raised or given short notice to vacate. Not getting plumbing or roofs or other repairs taken care of. Then, there are problems related to dealing with the government and its bureaucracy: driver’s licenses, taxes, Social Security, etc. All of these are issues that have to do with a lack of familiarity with American culture and how to operate within it. Also, employment and the fact that new immigrants can only get menial jobs that don’t pay a lot and don’t have benefits and that they often have to hold two or three jobs at once and require all family members to work in order to survive.

Many of the clients I have seen are here illegally and are incredibly fearful that they will be picked up and deported by Immigration and Naturalization Service (INS). But even those who are here legally can have continuing difficulties with INS. They get bureaucratic letters concerning actions they must take. Many of them can’t read them, let alone understand them. Most of the time when they try to follow through by calling INS or going there, they can’t get any resolution. The phone lines are always busy. The lines at the offices are blocks long. They can’t afford to spend all day waiting. Most don’t have leave of any kind. If they miss work, they don’t get paid.

There are also social problems. With migration, children tend to acculturate more quickly than their parents. They are in school, exposed more extensively to an acculturated environment, learn English more rapidly, are attracted to the ways and values of the nonimmigrant children. This inevitably creates separation and conflicts with parents, especially when the values and behaviors that the children are adopting are in conflict with family values. And there are often relationship issues between husbands and wives due to changing gender roles and women having to work outside of the home and children getting involved in delinquent activities, antisocial behavior, maybe even gangs and drugs. All of these social and migration issues are translated into stress, culture shock, self-esteem issues, depression, anxiety, etc.

Question:

How do socioeconomic and class issues affect the psychological lives of Latinos?

Almanzan:

I have already talked about those who are poor and from lower socioeconomic classes. Often, Latinos who were professionals in their country of origin migrate to the United States but cannot work in their professions here. I have met lawyers and medical doctors who have menial jobs in the United States as janitors and warehousemen because they can’t get anything else. For such middle-class people, the experience of such loss—of being reduced in status and income—can be very debilitating. They are more likely to seek help, including mental health treatment, because they tend to be more sophisticated about modern culture, having already acculturated in Latin America. They are also in a better position to assimilate because they tend to be more steeped in modern ways and knowledgeable about bureaucracies. Generally, with each generation here and the more education, economic stability, and acculturation they gain, Latinos tend to avail themselves of mental health services when they are needed.

Question:

Could you talk about issues of identity and belonging in different generations of Latinos in America?

Almanzan:

The majority of immigrants I have worked with say that they are here only temporarily and have come only to make some money and will then be returning permanently to Mexico or Guatemala or wherever. Often, several family members come together and send money back to the rest of the family. They truly believe they will be doing this for only a few years and then going back. But many of them never go back. I’ve talked to Latinos who have been living and working here eight, ten, twelve years and contend that they are not here permanently, but there’s no evidence of any planning or intention to go back. One consequence of this dynamic is that it keeps them from putting down roots, really learning English, improving their education, and establishing a presence and identity here. For those who do not have the legal paperwork, it makes some sense; they could be deported at any time. For the others, it may have to do with a hesitancy to give up their cultural identities or acknowledge the emotional loss and separation that is involved. There are two things that can tip the scales. The first has to do with those who have children that are born here or have spent several formative years here. Their children do not want to go back. They were raised here, identify as Americans, and are used to the lifestyle. To propose a return to the country of origin creates an enormous conflict in the family. People who have been here for a while also get used to the higher standard of living and know that they will have to give this up if they return. Single men who have worked here for a long time often become attached to the new lifestyle and in time separate emotionally from their family back home. They may go home to visit but always seem to return. This conflict in going and coming—in never really separating or attaching—often is never resolved until the next generation.

Question:

Next, let us talk about some of the factors that you see as important in assessing a Latino client. What kind of things would you look for? What kind of information do you need?

Almanzan:

First, I’d notice if they spoke to me in Spanish or English. My Spanish is not completely fluent, but it’s good enough to make myself understood. I would speak Spanish with them if they spoke Spanish. I’d try to find out whether they were born here or immigrated. Each represents a very different type of experience. I would assess their degree of acculturation.

What country did they come from? What is their immigration story? Did they come alone? If they joined family members that are already here, I would know that they are more secure and settled. If they are alone and their family is in Latin America, I would ask how long they have been away. If from Central America, I would try to ascertain if they immigrated because of the conflicts in their country. If they have fled a conflict, I would look for evidence of emotional distress.

If they are here with family and settled with children in school, I would expect that more acculturation has occurred. As the relationship develops, I can become more personal. I can find out what kind of home life they have, whether they observe more traditional relationships within the home between men and women, the value placed on education and who is to become educated. I also ask about religion. Are they religious? Most Latinos say they’re Catholic, but do they actually go to church and follow the precepts of the church, and how big a role does it actually play in their daily lives? (See Chapter 3, for more information regarding ways to assess culturally diverse clients.)

Question:

What suggestions might you have for providers about developing rapport with Latino clients?

Almanzan:

When Latinos come to see a provider, they expect to see someone with authority—someone who is knowledgeable and appears professional. They want to see someone who is well dressed, not wearing casual clothes. A male provider should wear a dress shirt, tie, and jacket; for a woman, a dress or blouse and skirt. They want to be treated warmly, respectfully, greeted, and made to feel welcome. It would be good to inquire about the well-being of their family and to engage in social conversation before addressing the issues that bring them into the office. They don’t want to be made to feel anonymous, or invisible, a nameless person in the system. They don’t want to feel that they are being rushed. They want to see someone who will look them straight in the eyes, introduce themselves, shake hands, and make inquiries about their family. It helps if they feel listened to empathically. At the same time, they expect to be provided with some concrete assistance. It is very useful to develop a list of referrals and resources of services specifically tailored for Latinos, for instance, to help with legal and immigration issues, rent, even food. If you can provide some immediate concrete help with their situation, they are more likely to come back and trust that you will be able to help them next time. It is preferable if you can address them in Spanish—in a formal attitude but with warmth. At the end of the session, I would walk them to the door and offer regards and greetings to their family even though I hadn’t met them.

I would be prepared for the person who is coming in with the problem to not come alone but to bring other relatives, a husband or a wife, an uncle, even children. Again, conveying warmth and genuine interest is critical. It is also helpful to self-disclose. I would say things about myself and my own experience with some of the issues being discussed, even though it may not be done traditionally in therapy. Two last points. If you aren’t bilingual, use a translator—but someone who is truly familiar with Latino culture rather than a European American who has learned Spanish. Also, be very aware of appropriate sex role customs. And if you see a couple with a wife with the presenting problems, make sure you spend adequate time giving the husband a chance to speak and a place in the counseling if possible.

Question:

Do you feel that there are any therapeutic approaches that are better matched with certain Latino subgroups?

Almanzan:

I think that any approach can work well with someone who is acculturated. With more traditionally oriented people, I would use a more directive style and would take my lead from them. It is very important to be able to understand their problem from their own perspective, not that of the counselor, and communicate that understanding. Also, be very careful to not unintentionally pathologize them or their behavior. Try to get a sense of why it is problematic for them from their cultural perspective and normalize it.

When I first began therapy in my twenties at Stanford, I was still living at home with my parents. The counselor questioned my living situation, and his questioning made me feel that there was something wrong about that. I came to feel very bad about myself and that this reflected my thwarted development. In retrospect, I am aware that there was nothing wrong with the fact that I was living with my family at that time. It is a very normal behavior in my culture, and I had been pathologized because of his cultural ignorance.

Question:

Are there any subgroups within the Latino/Latina community that are at particular risk for mental health problems?

Almanzan:

Research has documented that the closer one is to the immigrant experience, the less mental health issues one has. The longer one has been living in the United States, the more likely that mental health issues will crop up. I find that very interesting. I have already talked about the stress of the immigration experience, but there is also the daily stress of living as a Latino, an immigrant, and a person of color in this country and experiencing the impact of racism and discrimination. Together, they wear on one’s self-esteem and sense of who one is and what one’s values are. But there is more. When people come from Latin America, they have coherent worldviews and coherent cultural values. Living here, these cultural identities and worldviews are taken apart, picked at, and strained. In time, they lose this coherent sense of who they are. They try to assimilate to improve their situation. They are pressured to adopt some of the cultural values and perspectives of the dominant culture, and this sets up a lot of conflicts within them and adds to their stress and internal confusion.

As far as specific groups at risk, I think first of the teenage children of immigrants. They are probably experiencing continuing language problems. They may well be doing poorly in school and getting a lot of negative feedback. They are prime candidates for getting involved in gang activity, drugs and alcohol, illegal behavior, and dropping out of school. The dropout rate among Mexican Americans is over 50%. One of every two young persons will not finish high school. Even fewer will go on to college. This is an incredibly high rate and a damning statistic when it is known that education is such a key to an individual succeeding in this culture.

Question:

Last question. You’ve shared a lot of rich information with us. Could you finish by presenting a case that shows how it comes together in work with a client?

Almanzan:

I would like to talk about a Latino woman I saw for depression whose husband eventually joined her in the treatment. I remember seeing this female client for depression, and it soon came out that there were serious relationship issues between her and her husband. At first, she came by herself for two afternoon sessions. She was in her mid-thirties, Mexican. They had been in the United States for less than ten years—probably around eight. They were lower socioeconomic class, with limited education, and had three children: one girl and two boys. The girl was sixteen; the boys twelve and ten. She came in complaining of depression, of hopelessness. Much of it revolved around surviving financially. She was desperately looking for work without success. Then, she found some work, and I didn’t see her for a while.

After several weeks, she called and made an appointment to see me in the early evening because she was working in the day. Her husband came with her but sat in the waiting room as if he was only there to give her a ride in the evening. I was very conscious to attend to him with a sense of respect and to acknowledge that this was his wife that I was working with. There can be a lot of fear and jealousy in such a situation, and I wanted him to know that I respected him and his family.

She complained that her husband often spoke of going back to Mexico—that they were here just temporarily. Even after eight years in the United States, this was an ongoing conversation in the household. The children said they wouldn’t go back. The girl, the oldest, had become rebellious and was staying out late and ignoring their rules. The daughter and what to do about her out-of-control behavior became a central issue in the parents’ escalating conflict. The daughter worked at stimulating the conflict between her parents. The mother, though very worried about where her daughter’s out-of-control behavior was heading, sided with her daughter because the husband was being increasingly violent with the kids.

She and I talked about what other resources that she might have available to her, about problems with her daughter, about speaking to school authorities about her two boys, and making sure they continued in school. Finally, she asked her husband to join us, and he did. He seemed quite scared initially, but he talked tough in the session. He said he was going to straighten out all of the kids and then was openly abusive toward his wife. I intervened, telling him that his behavior was not acceptable. I talked to him about his abusive behavior at home and how that was the source of many of the problems they were having. I tried to help him connect the abusive behavior with his own feelings about his work situation, which was sparse, and his inability to support his family. This was delicate because it was touching on his identity as a macho male who could provide for and protect his family. This was very hard for him to face. He didn’t really want to go back to Mexico because there was nothing waiting for him, but he wasn’t making it here for his family. I had him talk about the different perspectives on staying and leaving.

The process we went through helped them communicate a little better and lessened the tension in the household. But it did not totally change everything. He still had outbursts of violence, and she eventually decided to leave the relationship. I had given her information on an organization helping battered women earlier, and she had contacted them. She left him while he was at work and took the children with her. She spent some time in a battered women’s shelter, then some transitional housing, before going on her own.

I saw him alone for two sessions afterwards, and we talked about what had happened, why she left, and how he was going to carry on. I can’t say this therapy was totally successful. They were able to communicate better; she found the courage to move out and hopefully become helpful to her teenage daughter. I felt particularly proud that he was willing to meet with me and open to understanding why she had left, for it would have been very easy to blame others, me included, and not return. It was his style to externalize his anger, disappointment, and helplessness, all of which were made worse by his lack of work, the increasing loss of control at home, and his related migration experiences. I did feel he was able to relate his wife’s leaving to his own behavior, and that was a big step in understanding what had happened. He left after the last two sessions, and I didn’t hear from him again. I would have liked to see both of them longer, but in this kind of work, clients are often transitory, and it is important to appreciate the small successes and little victories in such difficult situations.

Working with Native American Clients: An Interview with Jack Lawson

12-1Demographics

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The only word that adequately captures the horrors that befell the Native peoples of this continent at the hands of the white majority is  genocide . According to Churchill (1994), the population of Native peoples in the United States fell from 12 million to 237,000 during the first 400 years of this country’s history. During that period, the U.S. government expropriated (a fancy word for legal theft) 98 percent of Native lands. Today, 2.5 million people survive, but many are riddled by debilitating alcoholism, high suicide rates, unresolved historic grief, economic hardships, and loss of cultural ways. In Chapter 10, “Historic Trauma and Unresolved Grief Among Native Americans,” it states the death rate by alcoholism is projected to be seven times greater than the national average and suicide rates are also greater than that of whites. They represent a true American tragedy. For more information regarding historic trauma of Native People, see Chapter 10.

According to the 2000 U.S. Census, American Indians and Alaska Natives (the U.S. Census category) number 2,475,956 individuals, or 0.9 percent of the population. If one includes those who identify themselves as multiracial with Native American as one of the components, the number increases by 1.6 million. Over the past four decades, the Native American population has been on the rise. Between 1960 and 1990, for example, their numbers increased 255 percent, and since the last census count (2000–2010), the population increased by 456,292, or another 18.4 percent. Adding multiracial individuals, the numbers leap to an increase of 2.2 million in the last 10 years, or 110 percent. Pollard and O’Hare (1999) offer a number of reasons for this upward trend:

· Census counting has improved.

· Birthrates are high.

· Mortality rates have gone down.

· Native American heritage and identity have been reclaimed by those who have been passing as white, black, or another race, as well as those with partial ancestry.

As a collective, Native Americans represent almost 500 tribes and 314 reservations. A total of 79 percent of the population report tribal enrollment. Tribes with the largest populations are the Cherokee (281,069), Navajo (269,202), and Latin American Indian (104,940), followed by the Choctaw, Sioux, and Chippewa. The largest Alaskan Native tribe is the Eskimo (45,919). Geographically, Native American populations cluster in certain regions: 49 percent live in the West, 31 percent in the South, 17 percent in the Midwest, and 9 percent in the Northeast. More than half the total population reside in nine states: California, Oklahoma, Arizona, Texas, New Mexico, Washington, North Carolina, Michigan, and Alaska. California has the largest total population with 627,562, followed by Oklahoma at 391,949. Alaska has the largest proportion of Native residents at 19 percent, followed by Oklahoma (11 percent) and New Mexico (10 percent). About half of the Native population is located in urban centers and half on rural reservations. There is, however, extensive mobility between the two locations: city dwellers returning to the reservation for ritual and family business; Indians traveling from the reservation to the cities for work, advanced education, and so forth.

12-2Family and Cultural Values

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Sue and Sue (1999) identify five values that typify Native American cultures:

· Sharing and cooperation

· Noninterference

· A cyclical orientation to time

· The importance of extended families

· Harmony with nature

12-2aSharing and Cooperation

Sutton and Broken Nose (1996) quote an Oglala Lakota elder regarding the Native American attitude toward sharing: “When I was little, I learned that what’s yours is mine and what’s mine is everybody’s” (p. 40). Status and honor are earned not by accumulating wealth, but rather by sharing and giving it away. Gifts are profusely given, especially during life cycle events, as a means of thanking others and acknowledging their achievements. Material possessions are freely shared and expected to be shared. Similarly, great importance is placed on hospitality and caring for the needs of strangers. Working for wages is purely instrumental. A native person, for example, may stop working once enough money has been earned to meet immediate needs. Of course, such a selfless attitude toward material wealth and possessions may prove counterproductive in the mainstream economy. Sutton and Broken Nose (1996) describe the traditional owners of a restaurant on a Navajo reservation who were hard put financially because they felt obliged to serve free food to relatives, and most people on the reservation were relatives. Related to sharing is cooperation.

As in the Latino/a culture, competition and egotism are anathema to Native ways. The family and tribe take precedence over the individual, and it is expected that one will set aside personal activities and striving in order to help others. Interpersonal harmony is always sought and discord avoided.

12-2bNoninterference

It is considered inappropriate in Native American culture to intrude or interfere in the affairs of others. Boundaries and the natural order of things are to be respected. Similarly, stoicism and nonreactivity are highly valued. With regard to communication, a premium is placed on listening. Sutton and Broken Nose (1996) suggest that “silence may connote respect, that the client is forming thoughts, or that the client is waiting for signs that it is the right time to speak” and that the “non-Indian therapist may treat silence, embellished metaphors, and indirectness as signs of resistance, when actually they represent forms of communication” (p. 37).

12-2cTime Orientation

Indian Time ” is cyclical, rhythmic, and imprecise. People are oriented toward the present—the here and now—not to future events and deadlines. Activities take as long as they take and have a natural logic and rhythm of their own. “Lateness” and defining time by external clocks and circumstances are Western concepts, the product of a linear time frame. Long-term goal-setting is viewed as egotism, and life events are experienced as processes that unfold in their own time and way. As Sutton and Broken Nose (1996) suggest: “The focus is placed on one’s current place, knowing that the succeeding changes will inevitably come” (p. 39). Such a notion of time, which has a tendency to frustrate mainstream providers who work on a “tight schedule,” interfaces perfectly with the previous value of noninterference in the natural order of things.

12-2dExtended Families

Although the specifics of power distribution, roles, and kinship definitions vary from tribe to tribe, the vast majority of Native peoples live in an extended family system that is conceptually different from the Western notion of family. Some tribes are matrilineal, which means that property and status are passed down through the women of the tribe. When a Hopi man marries, for example, he moves in with his wife’s family, and it is the wife’s brothers, not the father, who have primary responsibility for educating the sons. Family ties define existence, and the very definition of being a Navajo or a Sioux resides not within the individual’s personality, but rather in the intricacies of family and tribal responsibilities. When strangers meet, they identify themselves not by occupation or residence, but by their relatives. Individual family members feel a close and binding connection with a broad network of relatives (often including some who are not related by blood) that can extend as far as second cousins. The very naming of relationships, in fact, reflects the unusual closeness that exists between relatives. The term  grandparent , for instance, applies not only to the parents of one’s biological parents, but also to their brothers and sisters. Similarly, the concept of “in-law” has no meaning within Native culture because after entry into the family system, no distinctions are made between natural and inducted individuals (Sutton and Broken Nose, 1996). Thus, the person one would call “mother-in-law” in mainstream culture is referred to simply as “mother” in Native culture. The responsibility for the parenting of children is communal and shared throughout the extended family. Sue and Sue (1999) point out that it is not unusual for children to live in various households of the extended family while growing up.

12-2eHarmony with Nature

Native American cultures emphasize the interconnectedness and harmony of all living things and natural objects. This spiritual holism affirms the value and interdependence of all life forms. Nature is held in reverence, and Native peoples believe that it is their responsibility to live in harmony and safeguard the valuable resources we have been given. Sutton and Broken Nose (1996) quote the following sentiment from Chief Seattle:

My mother told me, every part of this earth is sacred to our people. Every pine needle. Every sandy shore. Every mist in the dark woods. Every meadow and humming insect. The Earth is our mother. (p. 40)

This message, which implies the importance of noninterference in the natural order and stewardship over the environment, stands in stark opposition to the mainstream value of mastering, controlling, and taking what we want from the earth. The idea of spiritual harmony with the natural order also underlies Native beliefs about health and illness. Illness, both physical and emotional, reflects disharmony between the person or the collective and the natural world. Only by bringing the system back into harmony with itself can healing be achieved.

Unlike other people of color, Native Americans have found it impossible to assimilate upward into American society. While the other communities of color struggle to increase their underrepresentation in the ranks of the middle class, in professional and white-collar job categories, in higher education, and so on, Native representation in these groups is all but nonexistent. Why these great disparities?

· First, if one were to construct a continuum of cultural differences with white Northern Europeans at one end and plot other cultural groups in America along that line, Native culture would most appropriately be placed at the far extreme. The radical differences between their ways and those of mainstream white culture set the stage for what was to occur. Their notions of stewardship of the land, fair play, honor, and dignity paled in comparison to mainstream values of capitalism and “might makes right” and made them easy victims in a clash of cultural systems.

· Second, so horrendous were the actions against Native peoples that the victims needed to be silenced. To accomplish this, Native peoples were turned into stereotypes: savages of the frontier, drunken Indians, Pocahontas, mascots for sports teams, and emblems for automobiles. Regarding the latter, Kivel (1996) suggests various mechanisms of denial, such as minimizing estimates of the number of Native Americans who lived here, questioning the vitality and stability of their culture, picturing the genocide as a natural process with a life of its own, and attributing their demise to biological inferiority.

· Third, for generations, the government systematically destroyed Native culture and alienated individuals from their traditions and customs. Our guest expert, Jack Lawson, describes this loss of identity and disconnection from tradition as the source of all contemporary Native woes.

12-3Our Interviewee

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Jack Lawson has worked in the field of alcohol and drug treatment, primarily with Native peoples, for over twenty-two years. Currently, he is the Native American Coordinator for the State of Oregon Youth Authority. In this position, he is responsible for establishing relations with the nine federally recognized tribes in Oregon, developing and implementing culturally relevant treatment services, and helping to oversee the Oregon Youth Authority’s mission of implementing cultural competency and community development in juvenile crime prevention plans. He has also provided treatment services to Native inmates in the Oregon State Prison System, was lead trainer for the Oregon State Alcohol and Drug Office’s cultural diversity training program, and worked as a counselor in a wilderness treatment program for the Siletz tribe in central Oregon. Ethnically, he is a member of the Creek Nation.

12-3aThe Interview

Question:

Could you first talk about your own ethnic background and how it has led to your work in alcohol and drug treatment?

Lawson:

I am a Creek. My family is originally from Oklahoma. I was born in California and moved to Oklahoma when I was about six years old, and then moved back to California when I was ten years old, where we continued to live. While in Oklahoma, I remember attending ceremonies and gatherings. Feasts, singing, and dancing are part of my memories of that time. After returning to California, I lost contact with my relatives in Oklahoma. As a consequence of moving back to California, I was separated from my Native culture and traditions. I attended public schools all my life, and for the most part, the information I received about Native Americans has been negative and based on stereotypes. Most Western movies portrayed us as drunks, heathens, violent, and dirty, which supported the information I received in the schools. I knew I was a Native American, but I didn’t have any way of accessing positive information about who I was racially and culturally. Growing up in a situation where I was not exposed to my own culture and traditions left me lost as to who I was and open to accepting what others said about Native people. One of the first signs of oppression is when you start believing other people’s version of history about yourself. I seemed to have only numb feelings about my Native identity back then.

Both my mother and stepfather were alcohol-dependent. After their separation, my stepfather died in a fire. My mother remarried when I was about sixteen and had quit drinking. During high school, I developed an alcohol addiction. I took to alcohol like birds to flight. In retrospect, I realized what I was struggling with was issues of internalized racism and, as a result of it, a variety of self-destructive behaviors.

I received my first message about recovery from a couple of Native Americans who were active in Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) while serving in a military jail. After a couple of false attempts at sobriety, I was able to catch onto the program. My first two years of recovery were made possible by strict attendance at AA meetings. Several years later, I had the opportunity to attend my first sweat lodge ceremony. Experiencing it seemed to make all the difference in the world for me. It directed my recovery in a way that would not have been possible without access to my culture and identity as a Native person. It was through exposure to the traditions of my People that allowed me for the first time to develop long-term relationships with others and good connections with my community. As a result of this experience, I began to understand the influence of culture and identity in the recovery process and the influence of people who can teach these cultural ways and traditions to us. My own recovery experience taught me what has to happen for other Native People. It has been a real blessing to be exposed to people knowledgeable in the ways of our culture and traditions, who could and did teach me about myself, about who I am, and where I came from.

Having those mentors in my life, with their understanding of Native ways and identity issues, has allowed me to access areas of my life that otherwise would have remained invisible to me. I would have been left with a substantial void inside. Learning how I, as well as my People, reacted to being oppressed by oppressing others and losing ourselves in destructive behavior and thinking has made it possible for me to bring that understanding to the treatment process and to others who are still suffering from mental health and addiction problems so that they too can transcend those barriers for themselves.

Question:

How would you define Native Americans or Native People as a group, and what characteristics do they share?

Lawson:

Native People comprise over 350 different tribes and languages that are unique to this continent. We are both very different and very similar. There is not, for example, one monolithic religion that belongs to all Native People. We have many languages, cultures, and many religions. We understand these differences, as we always have. But, today, we are focusing more on our commonalities—on those things that pull us together. Paramount among these are historical experiences. As a group, we have all been systematically subjected to colonization, to the effects of losing our language and our culture, and to governmental policies that have been destructive to our People and eventually led us to a variety of social and health problems. These, in turn, have divided us in relation to ourselves and into differences in levels of acculturation. There are people that range from very traditional to fully assimilated and differ enormously in how they relate to their culture and identity.

Differences among Native Peoples are small in comparison to those things that set us apart from members of the dominant culture. I think we stand apart because of a value system that is qualitatively different and a set of historic experiences that cannot really be understood by dominant culture. When I take a look at the behavior of Native People, the first thing that strikes me is that we keep to ourselves—[we] are very insular and private, especially in comparison to members of the dominant culture. Some of this is certainly dictated by culture. But for Native Peoples, it is also a matter of self-protection. This is because of a shared sense of historical oppression and victimhood. The historical experiences of genocide and culturicide have left a deep mark upon our thinking and feelings, which is all the more tragic because our only “crime” was being on this land first. Everyone else that is in America today has come from somewhere else, but as Native People, this is the land from which we originated. We believe that we were created here. This is where our People have come from. It is an intricate part of who we are—how we define our communities and our mental health. When we view many of the problems that have arisen in our communities, we know they arise because of the loss of our land and our way of life that is so tied to the land. And of all the peoples in America today, we have been the least welcome.

The process of becoming an “American” for most citizens involved willingly giving up one’s cultural heritage or identity in order to assimilate into the dominant culture and its values. This has been a very damaging process for Native People. We did not ask to be part of this process; it was forced upon us. Native People experienced enormous and longstanding traumas in their lives as a result of the assimilation process. And it is not an experience that many dominant culture people can really identify with: having your religion outlawed, having your language outlawed, and living in a world that has devalued your very existence. And that brings about feelings of justified anger that are present in our Native communities. Anger is everywhere, and it plays itself out in different ways as our People respond to both historical and ongoing oppression. It comes out in the form of self-destructive behavior, alcoholism and drug addiction, suicide, and homicide. We have become very different as a result of our historical experiences in “America,” and these differences have to be paid attention to in the counseling setting. Our mental health issues involve the forced imposition of the dominant culture’s value system over our indigenous value system and have resulted in vast conflicts and misunderstandings as well as much resentment and mistrust that exist in our community.

Culturally, Native People tend to be nonintrusive and nondirective. They let people make up their own minds. If people come and seek advice, it will be given but not offered. Life is experienced as an interconnected entity. Nature, the People, the community all intertwine and depend upon each other for meaning and existence. We also tend to be very spiritual in our orientation, and the underlying force of our spiritual beliefs comes from the geology of the area from which we come. That spirituality infuses the community and becomes its base. It is central to the identity of each person and gets expressed through various religious and cultural practices. The creation stories of each People, for example, are set in the geographic area from which they came. The Navajo and the Hopi believe that they came up through the center of the world, and that center is located in their sacred places. For the Modoc people of central Oregon, their creation story is built around the lava beds of northern California, and they believe that humanity enters the world through the creation center, which is located there. All things come from our ties to the land, and all Native People are joined in their commonality with the Turtle Island, as we refer to the continent.

Question:

Could you describe some of the names that have been used historically to describe and identify Native Peoples and the general process of naming within the culture?

Lawson:

In regard to names, there are the names that we call ourselves and then there are the names that other people have given us. Most familiar to dominant culture is the term Indian. It is actually a misnomer. It comes from the time that Europeans first landed on this continent. Christopher Columbus mistakenly believed he had landed on the coast of India, and, hence, we got tagged with the name Indian, which has over time taken on a pejorative meaning for us. In spite of the fact that the term has been prevalent in describing us, it carries no significance in our world. At some point, we as a People decided to take control of how we identify ourselves.

The process began with the term Native American, which signifies that we come from this continent. But, then, because we predate the naming of this continent and the Americas, we have begun to look at ourselves as the Indigenous People or First People of this land.

Outside of these more political distinctions, we also have names which we prefer to use and with which we more closely identify ourselves. There are tribal names and affiliations, such as Creeks, Choctaw, Crow, and so on. There are often clan names within the tribes and then there are individual names—how we identify ourselves personally. Many of us have a Christian name that was given to us. But we also have personal names that are received through ceremony—a spiritual name that is often kept secret and used only for special occasions. It is important to realize that Native Peoples vary greatly in which of the various terms they prefer, and to some extent, our choices say something about where we stand politically and culturally. Some of us still refer to ourselves as Native American, and others prefer Indigenous People. Sadly, there are still many who do not care or feel anything about who they are.

When first making contact with a Native client, it is perfectly appropriate to ask where they are from, what their tribal affiliation is, and how they prefer to identify themselves. I think we get into trouble when we don’t do that and start making assumptions or just randomly use a term without being respectful enough to ask.

Asking about this information is probably a good way to begin contact. In mainstream America, people are identified primarily by what kind of work they do. We don’t ask people what they do for a living. Instead, we ask each other: “Where are you from?” or “Who are your people?” This is because we come from a relationship-based culture, and our relationships are defined by our communities, our relatives, and our tribal affiliations. We socially locate ourselves by our human connections, not by our activities or jobs. Two last points. Spiritual names are sacred and private and used only during ceremonies. It is considered inappropriate to inquire about these names unless they are spontaneously offered. In addition to Christian names, nicknames are very commonly used in Native communities. One might go an entire lifetime calling someone by a nickname and never know their given name.

Question:

We have already talked some about history. Could you give us a nutshell version of historical events of which a provider should be aware?

Lawson:

Historically speaking, Native People have suffered greatly at the hands of governmental policies and the actions of various religious groups. The experience of colonization is not just historical but is still happening in our communities today. Loss of our culture, loss of religion, loss of community, and loss of family cohesion are contemporary realities. And these patterns, which are the consequences of oppression, continue to play themselves out emotionally and psychologically in the lives of our people. They are major issues that concern us deeply because they involve nothing less than the loss of our identities and integrity.

The boarding school experience is a particularly destructive example. Until the mid-1980s, many Native children were taken from their natural families and communities and forced to reside in boarding schools, where they were isolated from Native culture and ways and then immersed in the dominant culture and Christian values. In these institutions, children were punished for speaking their Native tongue or practicing traditional ways. The motto of the time was “Kill the Indian, but save the man,” and its purpose was to eradicate all traces of Native culture and identity. Once accomplished, the child could be molded as desired, which meant shaping them into white Christians with mainstream values and attitudes. To make the task easier, the government outlawed our religion.

Perhaps most insidious about this practice was its effect on the Native family and its cohesion. When the children were taken out of their families, they were separated from their grandparents, parents, extended family, aunts, uncles, community, and so on. For generations, many Native American children were robbed of the nurturing of their families—deprived of the opportunity to learn parenting skills and other cultural lessons that would have enabled them to raise healthy families of their own. These children were forced to reside in institutions that were harsh and brutal. Some of our elders believe that our many social problems stem from the boarding school experience. Many of the children, as adults, remained isolated from families, no longer able to communicate because their language had been beaten out of them. They felt no comfort returning to their communities and were generally left alone to deal with the many internal issues that had been created as a result of growing up in the schools: low self-esteem, negative feelings about being Native, and a deep self-hatred. We can now see very clearly how generations of such experiences have impacted our communities and made them into what they are today.

We have begun to look at the consequences of the loss of our culture and realize that some Native People have come to internalize the stereotypes whites hold about them. As a result, they have become those stereotypes: the subtle ones and the not-so-subtle ones, the “drunken Indian,” the “lazy Indian.” How can all those negative stereotypes not affect us? I am thinking of one of my uncles. He once told me that during high school, he very much wanted to go on to college. He went to see a school counselor and was strongly discouraged from going on. “Native People tend to be better with their hands,” he was told and encouraged to pursue a trade. And so, with that advice, he didn’t go to college but went on to a trade school. He also went on to become alcoholic and drug-dependent and has since been in recovery. He attributes a lot of his problems to that stereotype and how believing in it changed his life. So, for some of us, it is all too easy to live down to the stereotypes and to begin thinking about ourselves in self-deprecating terms—that we are not very smart or that we are only good with our hands and that we are destined to become alcoholic. These issues—residual effects of the boarding schools and stereotypes—are still being played out in our present-day experience. But, fortunately, there has been a growing movement among many Native Peoples to regain our self-identity, to regain cultural pride, to regain our self-respect, and to learn about the traditions of our families, tribe, and People.

Question:

Let us switch focus and begin to look at issues related to help giving and treatment. What factors influence how Native People go about seeking help?

Lawson:

When Native People become involved in treatment programs, it’s usually because of some external motivating force. That is, they are mandated either because of trouble with the law, family problems, child protective services, or the like. Generally speaking, that’s how most people will come to be involved with outside agencies. Sometimes, the tremendous anger and mistrust that Native People feel prevent them from seeking help outside of their community. Sometimes, it is discrimination against them that serves as a barrier to accessing treatment. When you do find Native People coming into your agencies by themselves seeking help or assistance, they often are assimilated or bicultural—those who are more familiar and comfortable with white institutions and practices.

As a result of these patterns, there is a movement among various tribes to develop mental health and addiction services within our own communities so that people no longer have to choose between white services or no services at all. The hallmark of this trend is the creation of culturally relevant services. “Culturally relevant” means that the treatment process is infused with Native cultural values, that treatment goals make sense to Native sensibilities, that the need and value of developing positive ethnic identity are acknowledged, and that services are relevant to the lives and daily existence of the people being served. It also means that services are provided in a manner that is culturally comfortable to Native People. This trend is extremely important because the fact is that Native People usually experience less success in programs designed for mainstream white clients. Cultural barriers are a major obstacle to successful treatment in any program.

Question:

Are there any other things you would like to say about the nature of family, community, and culture among Native People that have relevance for human service providers?

Lawson:

Family structure in Native communities is very different from the nuclear family that predominates in dominant culture. Among Native Peoples, extended families are more typical, where an aunt may also act in the role of the mother or the grandparents raise the children or an uncle is the primary teacher for a youth or cousins are treated as brothers and sisters. Traditionally, responsibility for child care is communal. Also included in the family structure are clans, which are determined by kinship, and bands, which are people living in the same locale.

There are and have been many obstacles for the Native American family. As mentioned previously, the boarding school experience left many people devastated. Many of our social problems stem from them. Having been forced into these institutions, children were separated from an environment where they would have been socialized and reared culturally by parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles and placed in an often-harsh environment which did not recognize Native American beliefs as having any value. Today, alcoholism is our number one health problem, with 100 percent of all Native Americans affected either directly or indirectly. In the age group of sixteen to twenty-one, we lead the nation per capita in suicides and higher than national rates of diabetes. Currently, our average life span is forty-five. These statistics attest to the problems faced in the Native American community and more privately by family members, and most of these are linked to the destruction of the cultural family.

Other disruptions for the family come from state children services agencies that routinely adopt our Native children out to non-Native homes. Often, in conjunction with religious organizations or acting on stereotypical beliefs about Native American families, these agencies disregard the critical importance of Native culture for these children. There are many horror stories from the past of white people coming into Native American communities and removing children. Fortunately, this is a practice that has been stopped by implementation of the Indian Child Welfare Act of 1978, which re-established tribal authority over the adoption of Native children. Even though our rights have been reinforced, we are constantly struggling with agencies who are working to undermine the law. By these few examples, it is obvious how there has been a basis for the development of mistrust of social service agencies—a feeling that continues today.

Oppression has had a significant effect on our family structure. Some Native People have decided not to teach their children about the culture, language, or traditions because they do not want their children to experience the same treatment of degradation and rejection from the outside world. Others have successfully made the transition into dominant society, taking on mainstream values and religious beliefs and living happily. There are also many who have managed to hang onto and practice cultural traditions and beliefs, learning from elders who have been able to share their wisdom with a younger generation. Some families mix traditional and dominant cultural ways. Clearly, we are a community in transition, adjusting to significant changes in social structure and identity, with much from the past to set right. But in spite of the historical and contemporary obstacles, our Native community is healing itself. We have weaknesses and strengths within the Native families. We have oppression and discrimination to overcome. We have social problems with addiction and abuse. But our People are making a comeback in pride and dignity by reclaiming indigenous family values and recovery.

Question:

What are the kinds of problems with which a Native client might present?

Lawson:

One hundred percent of Native People are affected either directly or indirectly by alcoholism. Underlying this are a host of complex problems related to the loss of culture, identity, and disruption of the family unit, all symptomatic of a long history of genocide and oppression. There are also a lot of anger and anger-related issues, depression and hopelessness, health problems, and unusually high rates of suicide and homicide, especially among the young. There has also been a serious increase in the diagnosis of HIV in our community, mostly related to IV drug use. Among Native People who are incarcerated, alcohol and drugs are a major contributor to their incarceration.

Question:

Do class or other socioeconomic issues play any role in these various problems?

Lawson:

Definitely. Unemployment rates can be astronomical on a reservation, and the same is true for Native Peoples living in urban areas. The Relocation Act of the 1940s was one in a series of efforts by the government to encourage Native Peoples to leave the reservation, move to cities where jobs are more plentiful, and become part of the American mainstream. That was the ultimate goal. However, the reality was not quite as simple as that. Although some did relocate successfully, many found the experience traumatic. In the move from reservation to city, many traditional ties were lost. Kinship ties weakened with distance, and some people became disassociated from their relatives and community. Many ended up living marginal existences in the skid row areas of cities, and those who followed them from the reservations would tend to migrate toward these same enclaves. What the logic of the Relocation Act did not envision was the reality that most of these people, familiar with a very different kind of existence, did not have the dominant cultural tools to survive successfully, let alone prosper in such a foreign environment where they were met with substantial discrimination and rejection.

The move to the city was also instrumental in cutting off many from traditional cultural ties to their People. In addition, certain patterns of connection between the reservation and urban settings began to emerge. First, it was not uncommon for individuals to move back and forth between the two, and for many, this became a lifelong pattern. Second, animosities and various conflicts developed between people from these increasingly divergent lifestyles, with each looking down on the other. In general, some people in the urban centers may tend to view those on the reservation as backward, their ways antiquated, rustic. Those on the reservation, in turn, tend to see the urban dwellers as having lost their way—as suffering from the same malaise as the white man. Today, increasing numbers of Native People are returning to their traditions and culture in both locations and striving for unity.

There is an important cultural point here as well. In mainstream culture, success is measured in economic terms, and socioeconomic success implies a certain lifestyle that depends on having sufficient monetary resources, accumulating wealth, regular employment, living according to a certain style, and so forth. Our traditional cultural values are very different from this. Our wealth is located in the richness of our culture, tradition, ceremonies, and in the richness of our lifestyle. Difficulties arise when a person tries to live by a cultural value system that is not based on material economic gain within a broader culture that is so absolutely dedicated to it. These are not value systems that are easily integrated. Such clashes set the stage for Native Peoples losing our lands and having our language and culture outlawed in the first place. Today, we struggle with a similar conflict around remaining attached to our traditional way of life that cares little about accumulating economic wealth. It comes down to the question of divergent value systems. Those who are bicultural know what they would need to do to be successful—and that would be to eliminate their culture and perform accordingly—but that would go against their beliefs, which are based in indigenous culture and tradition. The integration of two such diverse value systems is difficult, to say the least.

Question:

In making an initial assessment, what kinds of information do you feel it is important to collect from a Native client?

Lawson:

Before getting too specific, I want to say something about cultural perspective and worldview. During any assessment process, it is vital—I can’t emphasize this enough—that counselors and other human service providers be aware of their own cultural values, biases, and barriers and understand clearly how they themselves have been influenced by culture. All behavior is derived from a cultural context, as are treatment programs. If one is going to assess a client whose worldview is culturally different from one’s own, then it is likely that if the client displays culturally relevant behavior, it may well be labeled as “deviant” or “abnormal.” For example, in dominant culture, a firm handshake is seen as a sign of honesty, sincerity, and straightforwardness, whereas if one encounters a person of traditional Native beliefs, a firm handshake is avoided because in our culture, it is sometimes seen as being intrusive, rude, overbearing, and impolite. However, someone assessing that behavior from a dominant cultural perspective might construe it as reflecting dishonesty, nonassertion, withdrawal, and evasiveness. When working with people from diverse cultures, it’s always important to validate their experience and existence in terms of their own cultural perspective. In order to do this, we as service providers must be aware of our own culture and how that culture affects our lives.

Assessments must be carried out within the framework of the client’s own culture. It is important, however, to not let the client be your only source of information about their culture. This information needs to be balanced with information from their community as well. It’s necessary that you reach out to our communities and listen to the people. It has been my experience that the more you learn about another’s culture, the more open they are to you. Learn as much as you can. You get that information from the community through developing relationships. Go to the communities and events and develop relationships. This doesn’t mean that you have to give up your own cultural values or beliefs. It does mean that you should be able to understand and respect beliefs of others and evaluate their behavior from within their cultural context.

Perhaps the most important piece of information to gain about Native clients is where they fall on a continuum from assimilated to traditional. People that are assimilated will often feel uncomfortable around their own People, not knowing the behaviors and what is expected of them. They appear to be Native and possess all the physical features of being Native, but internally, they’re different. They may feel uneasy because of their lack of knowledge of traditional ways and may feel unaccepted because of it. Assimilated individuals tend to act differently than those who live by traditional values and possess a traditional belief system. The assimilated person may appear more talkative and open, even though there might be distrust. They will be the ones who know the rules of the program and of society in general. In short, they will have learned what one needs to do within dominant culture to survive. Traditional Native People present themselves as more reserved and quiet. But rather than being indicative of withdrawal, it comes from a cultural value of respect, non-intrusiveness, and honor.

What kind of information should you seek from a client? There is all the standard assessment material. Who was a person raised by? Family structure? Religion? But with Native People, what is important is to interpret this information through the filter of how they see themselves culturally.

This would include identity development, involvement with the community, involvement with family, how family views its situation, whether or not traditional beliefs are practiced. Again, the distinction between assimilated and traditional is important because treatment methods may differ according to where a person falls on that continuum. By way of example, there was a doctor in Seattle who noticed that Native People weren’t recovering as fast in the hospitals as he felt they should. They regularly spent longer periods in the hospital. One of the things he did was go to the elders of the Native community and started incorporating medicine people and traditional healers as part of the treatment process in the hospital. And recovery times shortened dramatically.

Question:

Are there subgroups within the Native community that are particularly at risk?

Lawson:

I believe that all Native People, especially children, are at risk for developing alcoholism or some other form of dependency. There are physiological issues—social, economic, and emotional ones as well. They have been passed down from generation to generation and together create a “lump sum” of a risk for us as Native People. At one time, it was prevalent in our communities to accept alcoholism as a way of life. That is how we tended to cope with oppression and the discrimination in our lives. It became part of our continual grieving process. Although in many places this is still the norm, there are many of us who are beginning to take more control over our lives and find recovery.

Question:

What suggestions can you give regarding developing rapport with Native clients?

Lawson:

I believe we have to be aware of our own prejudices and biases and the way we regard people who are culturally and racially different from us. It is not a matter of learning to say or do the right things. Instead, we have to be aware of ourselves and the underlying issues that affect our clients. It’s not about having to learn all the ins and outs. We are dealing with a very diverse population. It’s impossible for me to say, “Well, this is the one thing you will need to say or this is the one thing that you do in order to develop rapport.” I would be merely creating a new stereotype.

We are all going to make mistakes, and mistakes are a common thing in working with diverse cultures. But if one really comes from a place of acceptance and respect as a care provider, then that is going to translate into developing rapport with clients. As helpers, we all have a goal in mind: helping to develop a therapeutic relationship so that clients can heal themselves. But there is more than one road we can travel to get to the same place.

In order to develop rapport with Native clients, one has to learn to not be afraid of their anger. You can be sure that there is going to be mistrust and anger that may very well be directed toward you personally as a white provider. But if you can tolerate it, not be frightened by it, and just allow it to be expressed as honest communication, you will be on the road to making a connection. There is the possibility the client will see you as part of the white establishment and, as such, unlikely to be of any real help. Remember: Historically, Native Peoples have had their feelings discounted, been patronized and demeaned, and chronically abused by the system. You may be witnessing justified anger running rampant. In short, you may be stereotyped and lumped into this category of the enemy. The only way to get beyond this is to acknowledge your whiteness and the feelings they are likely to project onto you as well as your general understanding of what they have experienced as a people. But be clear: The walls are not going to come down overnight but only with time and patience. In addition, becoming aware of the effects oppression has on a People will aid in understanding self-destructive behavior, such as addiction being systemic to oppression.

Question:

What else is important to know about working therapeutically with Native clients?

Lawson:

I have provided services to both white and Native clients, and there are clearly some important differences. In the white groups, traditional counseling methods are effective. I am more direct and confrontational here, and the clients tend to respond positively. I use a very different approach with Native clients. We sit in a talking circle, but it is the issues we talk about that are important. The issues have to do with Native culture, identity, how they see themselves as Native People, the effects of stereotyping, justified anger, positive identity development, and ceremony. And we use ritual objects and ceremonies as part of the process: eagle feathers and pipes, smudging, sweat lodges, and so on, introducing our culture into the treatment process and acknowledging what they are going through ritually and with ceremonies. Such a process fits naturally with our cultural understanding of health and sickness. We also discuss the effects of oppression while at the same time addressing the issues around denial, relapse prevention planning, and recovery maintenance.

As far as therapeutic styles with Native People, you will most likely be working with those who either know nothing of their culture or are bicultural. In both cases, I find that traditional counseling methods generally prove effective but with the incorporation of cultural material. My approach with Native Americans is to use culture as an avenue to recovery because loss of culture and identity is the most basic problem that Native People face. In this regard, I assist clients in identifying their culture, how it has influenced them, how they came to lose touch with it, and how they may become reconnected to their culture. I also have them identify where they stand along the continuum between traditional and assimilated. At times, I come across clients who hide their issues behind culture or try to use it to get something for themselves. They use it as a “front”—as a means of not dealing with treatment issues. The value of culture and community is not about what it can get you but who you can become because of it. The challenge for non-Native service providers is to know the difference between clients using culture as a defense and when the Native culture is genuine.

I provided culturally relevant treatment services for the Native Americans incarcerated within the Oregon Department of Corrections who are dealing with their addictions. As a part of those services, I conducted a weeklong alcohol and drug workshop and ongoing treatment groups that focus on Native American spirituality, ceremony, and recovery. As a part of the workshop, we utilized the talking circle, drumming and singing, sweat lodge ceremony, smudging with sweet grass or sage, use of eagle feathers and other sacred objects, and discussed issues that are relevant to their recovery. Through this service, many Native inmates have been given their first positive encounter with Native American culture and tradition. I believe this is an important thing to offer them—to be able to get in touch with their culture and to be able to have some experience with their traditions. Again, I see that as critical to recovery for Native American clients. But there are some diverse opinions about this within our communities. Some of our elders say: “They never sought out the culture while they were in the community. Why should we go to the institutions to provide them with anything cultural? When they get out of the institution, let them come to us.” That’s a valid point. But at the same time, I feel that it’s important for a person’s recovery to develop some cultural awareness. The issue of them learning it in the institutional setting is that, often, much of the learning comes from other inmates. So, information can get contaminated inside institutions.

Similar dynamics can occur in treatment in general, and that’s why it’s important for non-Native providers to have connections and resources in the Native community. It is clearly not productive for providers to exclusively learn about Native culture from their clients. Contact with the community will also give you a certain credibility. In working with our People on a regular basis, you just have to get out of your office and make contacts. We are a relationship-based culture.

Question:

Finally, could you present a case that brings together the different issues and dynamics about which you have been talking?

Lawson:

I am thinking of a client I’ll call Joe. Joe came to a program where I once worked called Sweathouse Lodge. It was an inpatient alcohol and drug treatment program that focused heavily on traditional Native modes of healing. We used sweat lodges, brought in traditional people to speak, brought in medicine people, hosted spiritual gatherings, took clients to powwows, and did a lot of resocialization work. When Joe entered the program, he was twenty-five and very angry and mistrustful not only toward the system, but toward the program as well. He had developed a severe alcohol and drug problem by the age of seventeen. His family had a long history of alcoholism. His parents knew nothing about their culture and traditions, and although he had a grandfather who was very traditional, he had only limited contact with him. Joe was mandated to the program by court order and was initially very resistant to treatment. While in the program, he experienced his first sweat lodge ceremony. It was a very positive experience for him, and he reported that during the ceremony, he felt for the first time some connection with his Native heritage and the value it might have for him. This motivated him to seek out further information about his own culture and traditions. In group therapy, he revealed harboring prejudicial and destructive thoughts about being Native. As a result of growing up in an alcoholic home, he had learned to equate being Native with being drunk and violent, as these were the only role models he had.

Through continuing positive contact with Native culture, in the form of ceremonies and positive role models, he was able to begin to distinguish between what was truly cultural and what was internalized from negative stereotypes of Native People and culture. This, in turn, enabled him to develop a more positive cultural self-image, something which was totally lacking before coming to the program. He increasingly took pleasure in attending sweat lodge ceremonies, learned to drum and sing, learned more about Native values, and in time began to work at incorporating these values in his treatment plan. He became more open to attending Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) and Narcotics Anonymous (NA) meetings and eventually involved himself more and more in the Native community. As part of treatment, he received a lot of very direct feedback from other Native clients and staff. He found it very helpful to hear others who had gone down a similar path of alcoholism and dysfunction “call him” on his self-destructive behavior, attitudes, thinking patterns, and lifestyle.

The eventual result was better feelings about himself, an emerging ethnic identity, and a positive sense of belonging to the Native community. During group therapy, he was able to make the connection between his own self-destructive ways and the lack of culture and traditions in his life. In short, participation in the program forced him to experience a powerful identity crisis and reformation, and it gave him an outlet and place to experience feelings that he thought were unique to him. After completion of the program, Joe continued to seek out sweat lodges and remained actively involved in community events. He has begun to take on some communal leadership roles and actively strives to encourage others to find recovery through their culture and traditions.

Working with African American Clients: An Interview with Veronique Thompson

13-1Demographics

13-1

Chapter 4 discussed the  African American  experience and how it was and still is affected by racism, prejudice, and white privilege. This chapter explores the African American experience more in-depth and provides suggestions on how the African American experience influences their work in counseling. The term African American subsumes a diverse array of peoples, including African Americans born in this country, Africa, and individuals from the West Indies and Central and South America. The 2000 Census numbered African Americans in the United States at 34,658,190, or 12.3 percent of the population. Since the time of slavery, they have been this country’s largest minority—until the 2000 Census, when they were passed by Latinos/as, at 12.5 percent of the population. According to a 2016 Census report, African Americans increased to 13.3 percent of the population. They are the most widely dispersed ethnic group in the United States, both geographically and economically. Although most African Americans are descendants of families who have been in the United States since the time of slavery, immigration has been slowly increasing over the last two decades, leading to increasing levels of linguistic and cultural diversity. Immigrants from former British Caribbean colonies bring with them a mixture of African and British customs, and those from former Spanish, French, and Dutch colonies do the same. In 1980, only 3 percent were foreign-born. By 1998, the figure had risen to 5 percent, with most of the increase coming from immigration from the Caribbean. Previous immigration from Africa has primarily come from Nigeria, Ethiopia, Ghana, Kenya, and Morocco (Pollard and O’Hare, 1999). According to the Pew Research Center analysis of U.S. Census Bureau data, 2.1 million African immigrants were living in the United States in 2015. Such diversity leads Hines and Boyd-Franklin (1982) to warn providers against assuming the existence of a “typical” African American family.

13-2Family and Cultural Values

13-2

Black (1996) points to four factors that have shaped African American experience and culture (see Chapter 4 for more information on African American cultural values):

· African legacy—rich in culture, customs, and achievements

· History of slavery and deliberate attempt to destroy the core and soul of the people

· Racism and discrimination and ongoing efforts to continue the psychological and economic subjugation started during slavery

· A victim system and process by which individuals and communities are denied access to the instruments of development and advancement (p. 59)

Black slaves brought with them a rich amalgam of cultures from West Africa and, according to Hilliard (1995), rather than eradicate African culture and consciousness, slavery actually served to preserve it. Aspects of an African worldview still infuse African American life: a deep religiosity and spirituality, cooperation and interdependence, and a oneness with nature. According to Marshall (2002), enslavement added a complex of core values and attitudes—emphases on resistance, freedom, self-determination, and education. African culture also contributed a tradition of strong family structure, in which extended families and close-knit kinship systems were the basis for larger tribal groupings.

According to researchers who have worked to adapt family therapy practices to the cultural realities of African American families, three strategies are critical:

· Understand the cultural context of the family.

· View differences in family dynamics as adaptive mechanisms and strengths.

· Develop practices that take into account the needs, cultural dynamics, and style of African American culture.

Furthermore, these researchers favor interventions that mobilize existing family structures, and they are opposed to creating new forms similar to those found in white families. Hill (1972, 2003) identifies the following three factors as positive strengths to be built upon.

13-2aKinship Bonds

Most African American families are embedded in complex kinship networks of blood and nonrelated individuals. Stack (1975) found patterns of “co-residence, kinship-based exchange networks linking multiple domestic units, elastic household boundaries, and a lifelong bond to three-generation households” as typical (p. 124). White (1980) points to a series of “uncles, aunts, big mamas, boyfriends, older brothers and sisters, deacons, preachers, and others who operate in and out of the black home” (p. 45). Such extended patterns and the multiple resources that they provide must be acknowledged and worked with by family therapists as a legitimate locus of intervention. Key family members must be identified and included in the treatment planning, even if they do not fit traditional definitions of the family. It is critical that they play significant roles in the family system. One is reminded of Elena’s godfather in the case study of the Martinez family in Chapter 4.

Hines and Boyd-Franklin (1982) and Boyd (1982) suggest the use of genograms or “family trees” to map out the roles of family actors and their relationships and conflicts. Caution, however, should be exercised in the collection of such data because African American families are often suspicious of “prying” professionals. These authors suggest delaying data collection until adequate trust has been developed and that information be sought in a natural way, as opposed to a forced manner. Extended  kinship bonds  also suggest the usefulness of working with subgroups of the extended family and including only those who are directly relevant to a particular issue. It may also be necessary to schedule family sessions in the home to include key figures who cannot or will not visit clinics. Again, entering the home, like seeking information, should be done with sensitivity, in light of past abuses of the welfare system against poor families.

13-2bRole Flexibility

Role flexibility within the African American family, like extended kinship bonds, is highly adaptive for coping with the stresses of oppression and socioeconomic ills. It is most evident in the greater role diversity found among African American men and women as well as in the existence of unique familial roles, such as the  parental child . African American males have traditionally been seen by social scientists as “peripheral” to family functioning (Moynihan, 1965); Hill (1972), among others, has challenged this notion. He argues that the father’s frequent absence from the home reflects a lack of neither parenting skill nor interest, but rather the time and energy required to provide basic necessities for the family. The father’s precarious economic position, coupled with the need for African American females to work outside the home, often leads to extensive role reversals and flexibility in childrearing and household responsibilities. These circumstances have led researchers to suggest that, as a result, African American children may not learn as rigid distinctions between male and female roles as their white counterparts. In approaching therapy, Hines and Boyd-Franklin (1982) caution against routinely excluding the father, as has frequently been the case with those who subscribe to the myth of peripheralness. Instead, they suggest doing everything possible to include him, even if for only a single session. They encourage the therapist to regularly keep him abreast of events and developments in therapy when he is unable to attend. They also caution against assuming the absence of a male role model when the father has abandoned the family. Given the variety of extended family figures, someone often emerges to fill this role.

While the African American male has been viewed as peripheral, the African American female—often forced to assume responsibilities well beyond those typically taken on by white women—has frequently been mislabeled as overly dominant. African American couples are, in fact, often more egalitarian than their white counterparts. Scanzoni (1971), for example, found that more often than whites, black males and females grow up with the expectation that both men and women will work. Minuchin et al. (1967) offer some interesting insights into the dynamics between African American males and females. Discord tends to be dealt with indirectly rather than through direct confrontation. Solutions to long-term disharmony are typically informal, and long periods of separation may occur without the thought of divorce.

African American couples tend to remain together for life, often for the sake of the children, and typically seek therapy for child-focused issues rather than for marital dissatisfaction. In spite of ill treatment by the husband, African American women tend to resist the dissolution of a relationship. Hines and Boyd-Franklin (1982) suggest that this may result from three factors:

· Greater empathy for the husband’s frustration in a racist society

· Awareness of the extent to which they outnumber black males

· Strong religious orientation that teaches tolerance for suffering

Economic demands and oppressive forces have, in addition, created unique roles in the African American family. Included are the parental child—which involves parental responsibilities allocated to an older child when there are many younger children to attend to or when both parents are absent from the home for considerable amounts of time—and the extended generational system of parenting, in which the parent role is shared and distributed across several generations living in the home. It is important to emphasize that such adaptive strategies within the African American family, while clearly a potential positive force, can in themselves become sources of problems that require intervention. This occurs when their intended function becomes distorted, overused, or rigidified. According to Pinderhughes (1982), “if the mother’s role is overemphasized … it can become the pathway for all interactions within the family. This requires children to relate primarily to her moods and wishes rather than to their own needs. The result is emotional fusion of the children with the mother …” (p. 113). Or parental children can be forced to take on responsibilities well beyond those of which they are capable and at the expense of necessary peer group interactions (Minuchin, 1974). Shared parenting in the multigenerational family can become highly chaotic or a source of open conflict and dispute. In each of these cases, the goal of therapy should not be to eliminate or “repair” the adaptive pattern (i.e., to move the family closer to white middle-class norms). Such patterns may, in fact, be necessary for family survival. Rather, the goal should be to set it back on its purposeful course so that it can once again function as intended.

13-2cReligion

Religion is an extremely important factor in the life of the African American community and provides a valuable source of social connection, as well as self-esteem and succor in times of stress. According to Boyd (1977), however, it is frequently overlooked by clinicians in therapy. Specifically, religious issues are seldom discussed; African American families seeking help from mental health agencies may be unconnected to church networks, and clients may dichotomize problems as appropriate for discussion either with ministers or with mental health professionals. For clients with elaborate church connections, such networks can represent valuable resources. This might include seeking necessary information from religious leaders, calling on the network for help and resources during times of crisis, or including ministers as “significant others” in therapy or as co-therapists. In addition, religiosity is not infrequently related to a family’s presenting problem. For example, Larsen (1976) reports the case of a highly religious family dealing with the rejection of religion and traditional values by a rebellious pre-adolescent. An understanding of its impact on behavior (e.g., strict adherence to harsh physical punishment and discipline of children based on religious maxims such as “Spare the rod and spoil the child”) is critical to any potentially successful therapeutic intervention.

The trauma of slavery and a long history of racism have shaped and defined the African American experience in the United States. It is impossible to understand the African American psyche without keeping these two events clearly in mind. Kivel (1996) states the facts of slavery quite succinctly: “From 1619 until slavery ended officially in 1865, 10–15 million Africans were brought here, and another 30–35 million died in transport” (p. 121). The magnitude is staggering and even difficult to conceive. But that is not even the full story; there was also the systematic destruction of African culture and identity by the slavers and slave masters, the tearing apart of families, the creation of myths of inferiority and subhuman status to justify what was being done, and an entire nation that benefited greatly—economically and socially—from this cruel institution.

Racism replaced slavery as a vehicle for the continued exploitation of African Americans, as well as a justification for continuing to deny them the equality guaranteed by the U.S. Constitution. As a people, they survived, grew strong, and fashioned a new culture in America, but they continue to this day to pay an awesome price for the color of their skin. Hacker (1992) argues that the United States is functionally “two nations”—black and white—and that there is an enormous disparity in the access that these two groups have to the resources and benefits of this rich nation. The long list of statistical inequities—from average salaries to unemployment, from incarceration figures to education levels, from teenage pregnancies to poverty statistics—is staggering. For example, poverty rates among African Americans is almost three times that of whites; life expectancy is six years shorter; and infant mortality rates are twice those of whites, Asians, and Latinos/as. African American households receive the lowest annual median income at $25,100, and African American men experience the highest rate of unemployment among ethnic minorities. African Americans have, in turn, been the “point men” for the struggle that has been waged against the inequality and social injustice that continues to exist in this country. Through the civil rights and various other social movements, they have been the voice of conscience in America, not allowing it to forget the grave injustices that are still very much alive. As Kivel (1996) suggests, they have been the “center of racial attention,” and all other oppressed groups have learned from and modeled their fights after those of African Americans. But it is little wonder, as our guest expert Veronique Thompson points out, that African Americans mistrust and avoid seeking help from established white agencies and institutions. Their motives and agendas—throughout history and into this day—have just not proved to be trustworthy.

13-3Our Interviewee

13-3

Veronique Thompson, Ph.D., received her training at Spelman College and the University of California, Berkeley, where she held several distinguished minority fellowships. She is a licensed clinical psychologist and a tenured faculty member at the Wright Institute in Berkeley. She is the director of clinical training at the Center for Family Counseling in East Oakland, where she conducts training for the counseling staff that provides family therapy and community-based prevention programs in the Oakland Public Schools. She also maintains a small private practice. Dr. Thompson has special expertise in narrative theory and social justice therapy and has received training at the Dulwich Center, Australia, and the Family Center, New Zealand.

13-3aThe Interview

Question:

Can you begin by talking about your own ethnic background and how it has impacted your work?

Thompson:

I identify as African American, although I use the words black and African American interchangeably. My racial identity impacts and shapes my life—who I am—and has a heavy, heavy influence in my work. Racism, in fact, makes it impossible for me to forget about the color of my skin. In some ways, sexism does the same thing. Both are at the forefront of my thinking and so cannot help but affect me as a professional. African American culture focuses my attention on certain aspects of experience. It teaches me about what’s important, like spirituality and respect, education, family relationships, political unity, and fighting for the oppressed, freedom fighting. My culture has me paying attention to these things, and it shows up in my practice. It forms the metaphors and language I use and shapes and defines the way I think about psychological problems. Take respect, for instance. Because I come from a group that’s been very disrespected, respect is a real important thing to me and other African Americans. There’s a slang term that the young people use called “dis”—to “dis” somebody—and it means to disrespect them. My style of therapy is very connected, intimate. The humor that I use is very cultural. My language, the intonations that I use, how I speak, all come from being African American.

Being African American has also sensitized me to spirituality. I didn’t grow up in the black church the way a lot of people did and so am not terribly religious, though being in church is quite comfortable for me. Yet, I have a strong sense of spirituality that runs very deep and affects my work in terms of values such as humility, obligation, respect, being thankful, being grateful, not putting myself at the center of things. I also feel a strong sense of responsibility as an African American, both personally and in my work, to understand the African American perspective and what the psychological effects of living in this country and this culture are. What kind of problems does that pose for us and how the negative effects can be best treated. But it is important to not define these effects only as pathology, for I feel a responsibility to focus on the strength it brings out—to observe and promote these strengths.

The thing that really got me interested in psychology was a book called I Never Promised You a Rose Garden that I read as a teenager. It was about mental illness, and I was fascinated by the realization that everybody had different minds, different inner worlds, different personalities. I have a sibling who struggles with depression, and it made me curious about such differences. As African Americans, we also occupy a certain reality that is different than other peoples’ reality. Things like sexism and racism are really up close and personal. They’re not merely interesting intellectual constructs. As a result of the denigration and oppression, there is often rage and anger, and you have to do something with that. I use it to inform my work, turn it into something constructive. It fuels my commitment for working with my own people.

Lastly, I have a lot of passion and try to be creative with it in my work. That part of me feels very African American. My mother always mentions a paradox she sees in our culture—that there is so much joy among us in spite of all the hardship. There’s really a lot of exuberance, joy, and zest for life that shows up in things like the arts and all the many ways that African American people contribute to American culture. It comes from a deep place of both spirituality and joy.

Question:

How would you define African Americans as a comprehensive group? What characteristics do they share?

Thompson:

The term African American refers to people of black, African descent, who can be distinguished from people of white African descent, as well as from black Africans who are currently immigrants to this country. There are Caribbean blacks who have a very similar history to African Americans but who reside or have resided in the Caribbean Islands, and black people from South America and other places in the larger African diaspora. African Americans have a particular common history of being the descendants of those people who survived the Middle Passage and went through post–Civil War Reconstruction, the period of Jim Crow law, the period of cultural revolution, really from the ’30s up into the 1950s and ’60s.

The characteristics that African American people share are residuals of African culture that have sometimes been reshaped and adapted because of our current circumstances in North America. I like the way James Jones talks about those cultural residuals. He calls them TRIOS, which stands for time, rhythm, improvisation, oral, and spiritual.

Time. Every group has their own time frame. We refer to ours as CP time—that is, Colored People time. African Americans tend to be more informal around social time. For example, when I have a party and am inviting both my African American and white friends, I often tell them … speaking well and having good verbal communication and persuasive skills are highly prized among African Americans. Look at rap music, the high value placed on people being ministers and preachers. In my generation, it was called “capping,” a contest to see who could verbally outdo the other person. Spirituality, even if it’s not religious, there’s great respect there. You almost never see African American people, if they win some kind of award on TV, I don’t care what it is, you know, the Academy Awards, the Tony Awards, the music awards, they thank God. That reverence is always there.

As African Americans, we also have a shared history here in America that has been organized around oppression and its consequences. Included are the experiences of economic disenfranchisement, second-class citizenship, racial discrimination, healthy paranoia, social vigilance. Not every African American person reacts to these factors in the same way, and some may be well off right now or second- or third-generation middle class, but at some point, economic disenfranchisement was a shared and common experience, even if it is not currently in a person’s life. It remains a generation or two away from you. A last thing related to all of this is a shared concern for the importance of respect. Parents being respected by their children; men being respected in a certain way. Self-respect is shown in how we dress, grooming, the very fancy clothes. Dressing down—not wearing shoes or going barefoot—are not valued because such activities are associated with being poor and economically disenfranchised. I remember being at an agency picnic and noticing that all of my white colleagues were sitting on the ground to eat and my African American colleagues were all standing. They all agreed that if you have on your professional clothes, you just never sit on the ground.

Question:

What names or terms do individuals within the African American community use to describe and identify themselves?

Thompson:

I think the most current and contemporary term is African American. Whether one prefers black or African American seems to depend on the era in which one was raised. Black was more typical of the 1960s and ’70s. What I think is interesting about the list of names we have called ourselves—Negro, colored, black, African American—is that the earlier names all focused on skin color. Negro, though non-derogatory in its meaning, comes from the Spanish word negre, which means “black.” But it focused on skin color. Colored brought us further away from the word black, and it tends to be kinder and politer. My mother’s generation referred to themselves as colored. Black was a reaction of pride and solidarity. “Let’s not water it down anymore. Let’s say black! ‘Say it loud: I’m Black and I’m proud.’” That whole thing. It was an affirming of African identities in both skin color and hair style. The afro was really a fascinating thing. It was like we’re going to take our hair and let it stand up on our heads very proudly. Though it was about pride, it was still about appearance and skin color.

The term African American is my preference. First, it focuses on culture—both our connection to Africa, where we came from, and America, where we reside now. It also distinguishes us from other peoples with black skin. East Indians can be very dark in their complexion. The aboriginals in Australia have very dark skin. But what makes us African American is having a cultural connection to Africa and to others who have come from there. It is also the only term that we’ve truly chosen for ourselves. It puts us on the same status as other groups in America. It describes the kind of American you are. Like, a person is an Italian American or Jewish American or African American. It both gives us status and places culture in a very salient position in defining who we are. Finally, it tends to be more inclusive. I have not found it useful to distinguish people who are recently mixed racially from African Americans, who have always been a mixed people. From the time we came to this country, there was extensive mixing with Whites and Native peoples. By “recently mixed,” I mean a person who has a parent from another race and an African American parent. I see these children as part of the African American group. They are welcome within our community, and the term African American is more inclusive and makes room for them. Jane Lazar wrote a book entitled Beyond the Whiteness of White: White Mother Raising Black Sons. In it, she argues for the importance of giving her mixed-race sons a powerful and accurate identity as part of the African American community.

Question:

What historical experiences should providers be aware of in relation to the African American community and African American clients?

Thompson:

I would divide our history into four segments: pre-enslavement, the Middle Passage, enslavement, and post-enslavement. You’ll notice I’m using the term enslavement. I do that because it is more socially responsible and accurate as far as providing a context for understanding. It focuses on what has been done to our people, as opposed to labeling them as just slaves, as if that is a part of their character and who they are.

I begin with the period of  pre-enslavement  because it is important for providers as well as African Americans themselves to be aware that we were not always slaves but rather descended from many different cultural groups across the continent of Africa. We existed prior to enslavement. The  Middle Passage  describes the ways in which African Americans were physically brought to America. It was the brutal transition from pre-enslavement to being enslaved; from being free and autonomous to becoming slaves. It was a journey by ships, human beings packed like sardines, during which more people died than were actually delivered to the United States. It is important to know about the brutality of the process as well as the fact that the enslaved Africans resisted from the very beginning, many choosing to jump ship, end their lives, rather than be enslaved.

The  enslavement  period—the institution of slavery—was about economics. Skin color, race, and supposed inferiority were all concepts used to justify slavery, which was at its core economic. The money that was made from slavery allowed this country to become what it is. Providers need to know that this person in front of them belonged to a group that was enslaved and helped create the wealth of this country. What is particularly ironic are the stereotypes that paint African American people as lazy. It’s so crazy. Here’s a group of people that worked for over 300 years for free, doing backbreaking and servile work, to be described as lazy. What an incredible reaction formation. But it is important to also realize that the institution of slavery challenged us with a lot of psychological residuals that still exist today. For example, Ken Hardy talks about silence and rage—how, during slavery, African Americans were going through a dehumanizing process in which they had to be silent and witness their own abuse and how this has turned into rage and then violence. There is a lot of anger in the African American community, and anger is always a reaction to something. It comes from injustice, brutality, and abuse. So, when you see a lot of violence in the African American community, and you might be tempted as a provider to say, “Why are these people so violent?” If you understood what the process of enslavement did to turn rage directed toward the self—directed toward one’s community as violence—it would give you a different way of understanding.

How can one deal with that rage without pathologizing the person and making their anger the only issue to be addressed? I actually like to talk about turning rage into outrage. Typically, we say if a person is full of rage and anger, they need treatment. They have an “anger” problem, and we give them a diagnosis, medication, perhaps an anger management group. When a person is outraged, they’re outraged for a reason, and the reason is injustice. So, the period of enslavement is important because it shows us where the anger came from. And there are a lot of residuals from our history having to do with anger, trust, suspicion, which really should be renamed healthy paranoia.

Post-enslavement. There was the whole post–Civil War Reconstruction period. It was quite short-lived, however. The period of Reconstruction was important because it showed our talents, our forgiving spirit, and our intelligence. The newly freed Africans were ready to pitch in and become part of American culture and to contribute with businesses and industry. Many black businesses and communities thrived after slavery. And, amazingly, there was not a strong spirit of retaliation. I think African American people have an incredibly forgiving spirit. It’s something I try to draw upon in therapy. I think spirituality has a lot to do with forgiveness.

Here were a people ready to participate in healthy, positive, forgiving ways. Film director Spike Lee has named his film company 40 Acres and a Mule. With the end of slavery, each slave was promised forty acres and a mule, and as Lee suggests, he is still waiting for those forty acres and a mule. This broken promise was only the beginning of a process of re-enslavement through a system of legislation known as Jim Crow laws, segregation, and unequal treatment. The psychological residual of Reconstruction followed by Jim Crow for African Americans was a widespread mistrust of the governmental systems as well as of whites in general. The people I know and clients I see freely state that: “I don’t trust white folks.” The distrust is immediate and general, and whites must prove themselves as safe and okay. Until proven otherwise, they’re not. So, it’s important for practitioners to know that this is a group of people that were lied to in this country; if you see mistrust, that may be its roots.

Post-enslavement also includes a number of revolutions within the African American community, continuing the longstanding spirit of resistance within our history. There was a cultural revolution in the ’30s with the Harlem Renaissance led by authors such as Langston Hughes and Zora Neale Hurston. It was the beginning of social commentary, of great creativity and intelligence, and, again, the forgiving spirit of African American people as expressed through the work of these writers. They fought with the pen rather than with arms. We all know the Civil Rights Movement of the late 1950s and ’60s with Martin Luther King and Malcolm X. They all show how we have resisted our mistreatment. We’ve not been docile or turned over on our backs. It’s really important for young people to know that—and practitioners as well. In growing up, I knew about slavery, but I didn’t know about the uprisings. And having the opportunity to have black scholars focus our attention on resistance to slavery, the uprisings, and the incredibly creative ways that Africans tried to resist their inhumane treatment leads to a very different kind of self-understanding. But at the same time, it is necessary to realize that though resilient, creative, and strong, we are not indomitable. Many people fail to see the soft side of African Americans, the fragility, the need for human kindness and connection like anyone else. There are many negative statistics and problems in our communities that bear this out: poverty, drug addiction. We’re not infallible, but we are strong. So, holding both of these ideas at the same time is critical for practitioners.

Question:

Can you next discuss some of the factors that influence the ways African Americans seek mental health services?

Thompson:

Trust, as I said before, is a very big influence. African Americans tend not to seek help from professionals. We have learned not to trust them, and our reasons are legitimate and sound, not a reflection of some sort of pathology. Really bad things have happened to us in the name of professional treatment, like the Tuskegee Syphilis Study. African American men participated in research without their knowledge and consent; they had treatment withheld so that the researchers could watch the course of development of syphilis. Psychological testing has been used against us, and many in our community just don’t feel that psychology has much to offer us as a system of care. Cost and access are also factors. Many of the fees are just too high, and it is difficult to get to where therapists are located. There aren’t tons of people with private practices located in East Oakland. Cultural competence is also a big issue. Will my life experience be understood and valued by the counselor? I would say that most practitioners are not culturally competent. I’ve also talked about respect. I think many African Americans expect that if they go to a practitioner, they will be blamed, misunderstood, and pathologized. We feel we’re going to be seen as somebody who has a problem with anger, as opposed to somebody who’s outraged at unjust treatment.

So, we don’t go. Instead, we find other help-seeking opportunities, find other institutions for help. We rely heavily on the church, on black social organizations, and there are many of these. And we rely upon our leaders in the community and our ministers. We seek out people that we can relate to, identify with, who understand us. So, it’s about how we relate, our accessibility, and how we enter the community. I recently spoke to a women’s group that meets at a local church. I was asked to come and talk about psychotherapy: what it can offer, what I do. This group of African American women was incredibly receptive, and we had a wonderful time. But it came through the church. Someone that they trusted invited me, and this was a group of African American parishioners. Of course, my being African American helped—but not just because of my skin color. I think it was how I related to them that was key. Because for African American people, it’s all about how you relate to them—how it feels, if they can identify with you, if there is respect and comfort. I could be African American and still put them off by a certain kind of professional distance or behavior that seems too “white,” for instance. So, my being black is not the issue; it’s how I relate. I use a more interactive and personal way of relating, and that was what allowed them to hear what I was saying. Most people wouldn’t go or continue with therapy if they feel like they cannot relate to, identify with, or connect with their therapist. Nancy Boyd-Franklin talks about this when she describes the concept of “vibes.”

Question:

What do providers of service need to know about family and community issues among African Americans?

Thompson:

As I have been saying all along, practitioners need to know the present-day ramifications of our history: to really understand what it is like for an African American client to live life in their community today, to focus on and appreciate the strengths and creativity that it takes to survive and live a full life, and to understand and acknowledge the privileges they hold in the world because they are white and how their African American client might feel about those privileges.

Let’s begin with privilege. It is important to know that African Americans see white privilege as problematic for them as is racism. And I want to acknowledge that this is hard stuff for white providers to sit with. So, I appreciate that. But unless you understand this and bring it into the room with you, you are not going to be accepted and trusted. The fact is that not only are there the acts of direct discrimination and racial injustice that African Americans experience on a daily basis, but also, we see that white people are by and large still benefiting from a system that gives them advantage and at the same time treats us unfairly. We just want a fair and equitable system, and the privilege whites hold is a constant reminder of what we as African Americans don’t have. When white practitioners are able to cop to the fact that white privilege exists—to acknowledge it and the effects of racism—they’re more likely to be trusted and thus helpful.

Let me switch to what life experience is like for many African Americans today, especially those living in the urban, inner city who are primarily working and of the lower and middle class. We see that there is still modern-day slavery, as in the prison system and industry, and that our people are disproportionately represented in jails. We see that drugs that devastate us are allowed into our community. In fact, we are systematically targeted for alcohol and tobacco sales. But there are a lot of current forms of modern-day slavery, like the prison industry. It’s an industry, a moneymaking venture. And that’s modern-day slavery to people in African American communities. We know this, and it’s important that practitioners know that this is how many of us think about it. That drugs are allowed into our community. It is not surprising that African American people feel abandoned, uncared for, disenfranchised by the social institutions that are “supposed” to help them. When you have a poor school, and you have unequal protection under the law, when you have a lack of basic services, like you don’t have any banks in your neighborhood or groceries that have good prices, and you have more alcohol stores than grocery stores, and you have media that portrays you negatively, and only fast foods that are available to you, and unaffordable brand names that are targeted specifically toward your group. When all of this continues to happen, your relationship to these larger social institutions is going to be one of mistrust. You feel uncared for, unprotected at a basic level. For example, you know that if you call the police right now and live in Berkeley, they will probably come within a half hour. If you live in Oakland, they will come in four hours.

So, here comes the psychologist: well-meaning, a professional, who’s part of a social institution, a school, or maybe the client is court-mandated. You’re not going to be necessarily trusted. Practitioners need to know that. It has nothing to do with you as an individual; you’re connected to a larger social institution that does not have a track record of building trust. Our families feel disrespected by contact with the system, intruded upon by institutions that are largely staffed by white people that don’t understand or care for us. That’s how many people in the community think. Here’s an agency whose staff is all white, and all the kids getting treatment in the program are black. And then they’re calling CPS (Children’s Protective Services). If an African American client is testing you or untrusting, you might see that as a natural and healthy thing because these folks come from a group that has not been cared for. Providers of service also need to know that there’s a real lack of safety in our communities, and that lack of safety is stressful for those of us who live there. You may feel some fear coming to that community. Imagine what it’s like to live in a community where you’re continually afraid. But it’s more complex than that because you also have really good relationships with many of the people there (your neighbors), and there are times when the fear is not present. You have to be strong, creative, and adaptive to survive here.

Question:

What kinds of problems are most commonly brought by African Americans into treatment?

Thompson:

All the problems that other Americans have, African Americans have too. Depression. Anxiety. We all live in American society, and that can create stress and problems—too much time at work; not enough help and support. People get tired and cranky, drink, abuse their partners, etc. It is the same for African Americans, but on top of that, we have to deal with the effects of modern-day discrimination and racism. It’s much subtler. Nobody’s riding down the street burning a cross on your front lawn. That subtlety in some ways is harder to understand for the person who’s experiencing it. Sometimes, a client doesn’t realize it (the experience of racism, for example) until you ask the question, and then they can put it together. But it subtly makes it extremely stressful to African Americans. They bring it (stress) into therapy and they don’t bring it in saying that’s what it is. Some people call it extreme mundane environmental stress. It comes out as self-doubt, self-criticism; that’s how it comes into the office. But it is really the effects of social and economic disenfranchisement. People come in with the problems that are most obvious to them: self-doubt, family problems, drug, alcohol, tobacco-related addictions (our community is targeted for these), and issues of group identity and belonging. A bit more about the last one; when you belong to a group that’s really put down, it poses quite a challenge for you because you have a human need to belong, yet who wants to belong to a group that’s seen so negatively? That’s what you see with the early doll studies (Clark and Clark, 1947) with African American children, when they were choosing the white doll. The kids got, really early on, that there is something about that black group nobody seems to like. Children may say: “I think I’d rather belong to the group that people like.” The only thing that can really buffer and save us from this brutality of discrimination is to belong to our own group and to have pride and a healthy sense that the people that you come from are good people. This is a dilemma that every African American person faces and can get addressed in therapy with a practitioner who is aware of it.

Question:

What factors do you see as important in assessing African American clients?

Thompson:

Formal testing and assessment of clients is not something I practice these days. African American clients have good reason to be suspicious of psychological testing. Historically, it has been used to track our children into special education classes and to justify stereotypes of lower intelligence. The instruments that have been traditionally used have not been culturally sensitive and therefore put our children at a disadvantage. There is also the issue of trust once again. Everyone who is assessed by a psychologist feels somewhat vulnerable. When you assess someone, you’re in the position of judging them. If you are from a group of people who are incredibly vulnerable to rejection—who are incredibly sensitive to being misunderstood—trust is enormously important, and you must develop it before conducting an assessment. (See Chapter 3 for more information on how to work with African American clients.)

Question:

Are there subpopulations in the community that you feel are particularly at risk?

Thompson:

I think there are subpopulations that we need to pay particular attention to. Black men, for example. There have been books written about the black male as endangered, and understanding their position is a complex task having to do with the intersection of racism and sexism. In some ways they are accorded some amount of privilege for being male but at the same time are devalued because white society fears them—and fears them even more than black women. So, their maleness both hurts and helps them, and this can be very confusing both for them and for practitioners. Understanding the situation of African American women is important because there is the double burden of being both female and African American. Yet, at the same time, African American woman are elevated over black men, and you can imagine the conflicts that that causes in relationships and families. African American women are seen as less threatening (by the general society) and therefore viewed as objects of oppression in the same way white women are. So, we are subjected to the same things that make it harder for all women—the focus on beauty, lowered expectations around intelligence, etc.—but also higher mountains to climb as African Americans.

And then there is the gay/lesbian/bisexual/transgendered community. First, you’re outcast in the wider culture and then you’re outcast in your own African American culture. I get so angry about that and even tearful—that the GLBT community would be doubly rejected from within their own group, which should be more sensitive to such issues of exclusion. There needs to be more attention paid to what it is like being black and gay.

Finally, there are the children, who are the most voiceless. A significant number of African American children are born below the poverty line and for generations have remained impoverished—born into poverty and most likely to stay in poverty. There is this overgeneralization that all African American people are poor, and as a result, both the very poor and those who are economically higher up remain invisible. Another issue that impacts African American children greatly, as it does white children, is addiction to drugs among their parents. Addicted parents are unable to properly raise children because drugs rob you of your mind, your sense of social connection, and your ability to be responsible. Families with rampant addiction tend to be chaotic environments, difficult places to grow up, and addicted parents are incapable of passing on cultural knowledge and identity, a very significant loss for African American children.

Question:

What suggestions do you have for developing rapport with African American clients, and is there a therapeutic style with which African American clients are most comfortable?

Thompson:

Being direct is very well received by African Americans. I don’t mean doing away with social niceties or being blunt, rude, or crude, but not beating around the bush. Directness is often appreciated. There is this culture of politeness that shows up among practitioners that is mistrusted by African American people. Being too nice, or too open, or too solicitous before you know somebody is perceived as inauthentic. Remember, we are as a people very sensitive to inauthenticity and dishonesty. Many therapists claim to create a safe environment for all clients. But therapists really don’t have the power to do that and having such an attitude is likely to raise the suspicion of African American people. Saying “I’d like this to be a safe place, and I’ll do my best to do that, but I don’t know if I can do that for you” would be much more authentic and therefore more trust-inducing.

So, directness, authenticity, and honesty are vital because people who have been lied to have special antennae in relation to: “This doesn’t sound right. Why are you being so nice to me when you don’t even know me?” We have feelers. Nancy Boyd-Franklin talked about it as a vibe. African American people get your vibe, and it’s really hard to hide. Being passionate and interactive are also important because our cultural style is to be both. We’re a very passionate, exuberant, excitable people. So, if your style as a practitioner is flat in its affect or distant, passive, or minimally reactive with frequent silences, it is likely to be interpreted as something negative. And it is critical to be respectful of people’s spiritual beliefs. Not all African Americans are religious. In fact, awful things have happened to many of us in the name of religion. But African Americans are still spiritual, and that is a powerful issue around which to connect.

I have found that the use of (what I have termed) “socially conscious self-disclosure” is very effective with African American people. Nondisclosure can be problematic with people who are from oppressed groups. If you don’t disclose personal information, there is no way to place you in a context and, therefore, to know if you can be trusted. The therapist must be sure that the self-disclosure is done in the service of the client—that is, it is an attempt to create safety, connection, empathy—not because the therapist is insecure, needs to vent, or needs to be heard. If the therapist shares personal information in that spirit—to do so in a socially conscious way—it will be helpful with African American clients.

The African American people I work with, they know I’m African American by looking at me, but again, it’s not just a skin color thing. They have to know how “black” I am. They really want to know where my consciousness is located. They don’t come out and ask me. But I know it is important that I make disclosures to them so that they know that we share a worldview—that I know what they are talking about. For example, I have an African American client who’s raising boys. It was very important for her to know that I, too, have a boy, and we are both attempting to raise black boys in a culture that is very brutal on black males. I didn’t go on and talk about my son, but that little bit of information changed things. Most people feel greatly held by such connections. There’s something very healing and soothing about knowing that somebody shares a problem with you. Another therapeutic tool I use with African American clients is something I call “deep cultural knowledge.” By that I mean knowledge about my group that I have gotten from living in and being a part of the culture. For example, I use humor. There are certain things that I could probably say in a humorous way with African Americans that would be shared—that if someone else did it, it would be insulting. All of the folk knowledge that I’ve picked up as part of my culture I refer to and ask questions about as a way of connecting with my clients in small but mutually meaningful ways. These things come up in talking about people’s lives, so I may refer to them or ask where you heard or were taught that. Using cultural metaphors is also helpful. I use a lot of them. Metaphors about freedom, escape, liberation, our ancestors, spirit and spirituality. African American people love these metaphors because they just make sense to us in a very deep place. And, of course, my language style. I use black English to flavor my speech. There are just certain things that have to be said in a particular way.

I would encourage other African American practitioners to consider some of these approaches. Now, if you’re not African American, you obviously can’t use deep cultural knowledge, and that’s a limit. I don’t think that means you can’t work with African American clients, but I think it’s important to acknowledge the limits of what your experience is. And don’t try to join with African American clients by acting black. When white people try to do the “slap me five, brotha” thing, it’s a turn-off. It’s likely to be experienced as inauthentic and phony. I’ve met a few white people who grew up in African American culture, and for them, such behavior is natural, so that’s fine. But for most whites, such appropriation of our culture is considered an insult.

Finally, it’s not a good idea to ask too many questions initially. Such questioning without sufficient trust and rapport will be viewed as interrogation. Too many questions too soon. We’re talking about people with a history where trust and giving out information about oneself has been repeatedly violated. When I was a teenager, the Census person came to the house. My mother said, “Don’t tell them anything,” and my mother is a very warm, welcoming person. She’s not particularly suspicious or paranoid. We, as African Americans, are raised not to tell strangers, especially white ones, anything about ourselves. The Census, for example, was just seen as white people coming in and trying to find out about us. But as therapists, we’re taught to ask questions. So, how do you do that? The timing and pace of when you ask questions is critical. I would suggest that one wait before asking too many direct questions. Give the client time for them to tell you their story, time to check you out, and time to develop rapport. That’s a style I think works better with African Americans.

Question:

By way of ending and putting together some of the ideas you’ve shared, could you present a case?

Thompson:

OK. Let me give you a shorter and then a longer example. I had an African American graduate student who doubted herself so much—doubted her intellectual capacities, in spite of the fact that she was a teaching assistant (TA) in her graduate program in a statistics course. If you are a TA for a statistics class, you’re probably very good at math, right? She just couldn’t shake the idea that she really wasn’t good at math and had a nagging worry about her intelligence. But when you are viewed and portrayed as being from a group where you are “less than” others, “bad,” or “lacking intelligence,” it’s no wonder that you show up in my office with: “I don’t feel good about myself, and I can’t figure out why.” For this particular woman, who’s African American, I believe both sexism and racism had her doubting her intelligence, yet she was the TA for one of the classes that everyone else is really anxious about. I think this is one of the subtle ways that racism affects our people. She would never have named that as racism, and I asked her quite frankly, “Do you think racism has anything to do with this?” which is one of my favorite questions. Most clients’ immediate response is no, but after a few minutes, they reconsider and come back to the question. Eventually, they begin telling you all the ways that racism has affected them. Why was it so initially hard to identify? Because it is quite painful to think about and easier to push it out of consciousness. And you don’t want to think that so much of your life is defined by it (racism).

I was working with a second woman who had a lot of social anxiety and came into therapy quite well versed in the language of social phobia. She said she knew they had medicine for it and asked if she could she get some of that. I don’t prescribe medication but told her she could pursue that if she liked. In her work with me, I was particularly interested in how she came to think of herself as a social phobic. Using narrative therapy, I helped her deconstruct the messages she had gotten in life about who she was and how she had gotten to think of herself. So, we developed a metaphor for how she was feeling, using the language of escape, liberation, and freedom. We externalized her fear as imprisoning her. She had become a prisoner of it. Though it is normal for most people to feel a little awkward in new social situations, she was terrified of meeting people, especially about going back to school.

She wanted to go back to school but felt quite strongly that she didn’t belong. Part of it was the fact she would be going to a largely white institution where she was going to be an ethnic minority. This scared her and stimulated a sense of not belonging. As we sorted out what this was about, we found hidden messages about poor black girls not going on for higher education, about her not having important things to contribute, and that no one would listen to her. This is another subtle way that racism shows itself in people’s lives, and therapists can ask questions that can help uncover racism in this way.

So, we externalized the fear as the experience of feeling imprisoned—of living in a prison of fear. Before looking into how to escape from that prison, it was necessary for her to understand the interior of that prison, what it told her, how it spoke to her, how it kept her locked away. In terms of her breaking out, I asked, “Who might know about escaping to freedom?” In response, she said: “I wonder if our ancestors might know, since they tried to escape slavery.” Then, she wondered how she might ask her ancestors. Would it be in a prayer, a meditation, or a reflective moment? I encouraged her to pursue the thought. She said, “I think I’ll go to the ocean because we came from the other side of the ocean, and we were dropped off here,” and added: “I like the ocean; I have this affinity to it. When I have a burden, I often go to the ocean and it helps me think, clear my mind.” In her next session, she told me she had gone to the ocean and asked the ancestors about escaping.

And I asked, “What did they say?” sitting on the edge of my seat. She said that the answer came to her in the form of a poem. She shared the poem, and it was eloquent. It was about breaking free, cutting the shackles of fear, liberating her from social anxiety and fear. The poem connected her culturally and gave her both pride and courage.

Here’s a young woman who came in talking about social phobia and medication, disconnected from the social context of her fears. She was able to connect the fear to a cultural background and through that connection deepen her own connection with who she was culturally.

Working with Asian American Clients: An Interview with Dan Hocoy

14-1Demographics

14-1

Asian Americans were the fastest-growing racial group in the United States from 1980 to 2000, with their population nearly doubling (179 percent) during that period. The 2010 Census (which divides the larger group into two subgroups) reported an Asian population of 14.6 million, or 4.8 percent of the general population, and a Native Hawaiian and other Pacific Islander population of 540,000, or 0.2 percent. This represents an increase of 43.3 percent and 35.0 percent, respectively, for the ten-year period. Projections into the future estimate a population increase from 5 percent of the United States total in 2010 to 9 percent by the year 2050.

Like the Latinos/as, Asians represent a diverse collection of ethnic groups with very different languages, cultures, and, in some cases, a long history of intergroup conflict and hostilities. Included in this collective are forty-three ethnic groups—twenty-eight in the “Asian” category and fifteen in the  “Pacific Islander” category . Included in the former are individuals who identify themselves as Asian Indians, Chinese, Filipino, Korean, Japanese, and Vietnamese, and in the latter are individuals from Hawaii, Guam, and Samoa. With changes in the Immigration Act of 1965 and large-scale immigration from Southeast Asia and other parts of the Asian continent, relative percentages of Asian American subgroup sizes changed dramatically. According to the 1970 Census, Japanese were the most populous, followed by Chinese and Filipinos. By 1980, however, Japanese were ranked third, with Chinese moving to first and Filipinos to second. As of 2000, Chinese represent the largest Asian subgroup with 2.3 million, Filipinos at 1.9 million, Asian Indians at 1.7 million, Vietnamese at 1.1 million, Korean also at 1.1 million, and Japanese at 0.8 million. Native Hawaiians and Pacific Islanders make up only 5 percent of the Asian population in the United States. For more information regarding Asian American culture, please see Chapters 9 and 10.

Most Asian Americans come from recent immigrant families. During the 1990s, immigrants were, in fact, responsible for two-thirds of the growth of the overall Asian population. In 1998, for instance, 59 percent were foreign-born, with 74 percent arriving since 1980. Many Chinese and Japanese Americans, however, have been here for three or more generations, originally a source of cheap labor in the economic development of the Western United States. Their history was one of extensive suffering and racial discrimination. According to Pollard and O’Hare (1999):

Legislation enacted in 1790 excluded Asians and other non-whites gaining citizenship by limiting citizenship to “free white residents.” Because most Asians were foreign-born and not citizens, they could be legally kept from owning land or businesses, attending schools with whites, or living in white neighborhoods. Asian immigrants were not eligible for U.S. citizenship until 1952. The 1879 California constitution barred the hiring of Chinese workers, and the federal Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 halted the entry of most Chinese until 1943. The 1907 Gentlemen’s Agreement and a 1917 law restricted immigration from Japan and a “barred zone” known as the Asian-Pacific Triangle. During World War II Americans of Japanese ancestry were interned in camps by Executive Order signed by Franklin D. Roosevelt. (pp. 5–6)

Recent Asian and Pacific Islander immigration has followed two streams. One came from countries such as China and Korea, which already have large populations in the United States. The majority of these were college-educated and entered under special employment provisions. The second stream came from Southeast Asia—Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia—arriving after the Vietnam War to escape persecution in their home countries. Most were poor and uneducated.

As a group, Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders, 49 percent of the U.S. population, are concentrated in the western United States, with the largest urban populations located in Los Angeles and New York City. Sixty percent of the Chinese population reside in California and New York; two-thirds of the Filipinos and Japanese live in California and Hawaii. Koreans and Asian Indians tend to be more dispersed, with the largest concentrations in California, New York, Illinois, New Jersey, and Texas. Southeast Asians, on the other hand, can be found in unexpected pockets of population as a result of governmental resettlement policies. For example, in 1990, 40 percent of the Hmong population resided in Minnesota and Wisconsin (Pollard and O’Hare, 1999).

Unlike African Americans, Latinos/as, and Native Americans, Asian Americans have been quite successful economically and educationally, even in comparison with the white population. In 2002, the median income in an Asian household was $65,469, when it was $54,461 for white households and $38,039 for African American households. Asian Americans, in addition, account for 30 percent of minority businesses, although they account for only 13 percent of the non-white population. They also score high on business ownership rates (BORs) (businesses per 1,000 population), with Koreans and Asian Indians surpassing white BORs. Asians graduate from high school at the same rate as do whites—approximately 90 percent—but the former are more likely to complete two or more years of college. In 1990, 13 percent of the Asian and Pacific Islander population earned graduate and professional degrees in comparison to 9 percent of whites and three to four times the rate of other minorities.

Because of such statistics and a cultural tendency to defer and not compete openly with white Americans, Asian Americans have been described as a “ model minority ,” a veritable success story. Sue and Sue (1999), however, see this image as a myth based on incomplete data that serves to validate the erroneous belief that any ethnic group can succeed if only they work hard enough, stimulate inter-group conflict, and shortchange Asian communities from needed resources. According to Sue and Sue (1999), the following facts need to be understood. High median income does not take into consideration the number of wage earners, the level of poverty among certain Asian subgroups, or the discrepancy between education and income for Asian workers. Education in the Asian community is bimodal; that is, there are both highly educated and uneducated subpopulations. Asian towns in large urban areas represent ghettos with high unemployment, poverty, and widespread social problems. Underutilization of services does not necessarily mean a lack of problems, but it may in fact have alternative explanations, such as face-saving, shame, or the family’s cultural tendency to keep personal information hidden from the outside world. In short, the belief in Asian success does not mean that there is any less racism or discrimination directed toward Asian Americas or that there are not serious problems within crowded urban enclaves. At a psychological level, “model minority” status refers to the lack of threat whites experience in relation to Asian Americans. Such an attitude has eroded somewhat, however, with increased economic competition from Japan and other Pacific Rim countries and a growing number of Asian American students competing successfully for college and university slots.

14-2Family and Cultural Values

14-2

Lee (1996) offers the following description of traditional Asian families:

… in traditional Asian families, the family unit—rather than the individual—is highly valued. The individual is seen as the product of all the generations of his or her family. The concept is reinforced by rituals and customs such as ancestor worship, family celebrations, funeral rites, and genealogy records. Because of this continuum, individuals’ personal action reflects not only on themselves but also on their extended family and ancestors … Obligations and shame are mechanisms that traditionally help reinforce societal expectations and proper behavior. An individual is expected to function in his or her clearly defined roles and positions in the family hierarchy, based on age, gender, and social class. There is an emphasis on harmonious interpersonal relationships, interdependence, and mutual obligations or loyalty for achieving a state of psychological homeostasis or peaceful coexistence with family or other fellow beings. (pp. 230–231)

Family and gender roles and expectations are highly structured. Fathers are the breadwinners, protectors, and ultimate authorities. Mothers oversee the home, bear and care for children, and are under the authority of their fathers, husbands, in-laws, and, at times, even sons. Male children are highly prized, and the strongest bond within the family is between mother and son. Children are expected to be respectful and obedient and are usually raised by an extended family. Older daughters are expected to play a caretaking function with younger siblings.

Traditional Asian values differ dramatically from those of white, middle-class American culture. Immigration brings the strong possibility of cultural conflict within the family. Lee (1996) differentiates five Asian American family types that differ in relation to cultural conflict:

· “Traditional” families are largely untouched by assimilation and acculturation, retain cultural ways, limit their contact with the white world, and tend to live in ethnic enclaves.

· “Culture conflict” families are typified by traditional parents and acculturated, Americanized children who experience intergenerational conflict over appropriate behavior and values, exhibit major role confusion, and lack agreed-upon family structures.

· “Bicultural” families tend to include acculturated parents, born either in the United States or in Asia and exposed to Western ways. They are professional, middle-class, bilingual, and bicultural. Family structures tend to be a blending of family styles but with regular contact with traditional family members.

· “Americanized” families have taken on the ways of the majority culture, with ties to traditional Asian culture fading and little interest in connection to ethnic identity.

· “Interracial” families represent marriage with a non-Asian partner where family styles from the two cultures have been successfully integrated or there is significant value and style conflict.

Sue and Sue (1999) similarly identify five potential value conflicts that may arise between Asian American clients and Western trained counselors:

· Asian clients value a collective and group focus that emphasizes interdependence, and Western counselors adopt a focus on individualism and independent action.

· Asians tend to be most comfortable with hierarchical relationships in comparison with a Western emphasis on equality in relationships.

· Asian cultures see the restraint of emotion as a sign of human maturity, and the Western counselor is likely to see emotional expressiveness as healthy.

· Traditional Asian clients will expect the counselor to provide solutions, but the Western counselor will encourage finding one’s own solutions through introspection.

· Mental illness and emotional problems are seen within the Asian context as shameful and indicative of family failure in contrast with Western counseling, which views mental and physical illness similarly.

As we shall learn from our guest expert, Dan Hocoy, Asian Americans—when they do seek professional helping services outside of their community—tend to present with a variety of problems, including value conflicts with parents and family, difficulties regarding identity issues, acculturation, extreme work ethics, and familial obligations.

14-3Our Interviewee

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Dan Hocoy, Ph.D., received his degree in clinical psychology from Queen’s University, Kingston, Ontario, Canada. His dissertation focused on the effects of apartheid and racism on black mental health in South Africa. He has also carried out research on racial identity and other cross-cultural topics throughout the world, including Chinese racial identity and the psychological impact of racism on Chinese in Canada. He is a member of the core faculty of the psychology department of the Pacific Graduate Institute, Carpinteria, California, and previously served as assistant professor in the PsyD (Doctor of Psychology) program at John F. Kennedy University, Orinda, California.

14-3aThe Interview

Question:

One of your areas of expertise is racial identity. Could you talk about some of your own experiences growing up Chinese?

Hocoy:

Being Chinese has always been very central to my life, although I haven’t always been conscious of it. That is to say, I didn’t always recognize its influence. I went through various phases of racial identity development. At first, I felt embarrassed about being Chinese. My family was the only Chinese family on the block, and because we were struggling immigrants, I always associated being Chinese with being poor. There was a lot of ethnic self-hate in me at that time. There was also external discrimination. For instance, I was always picked on in school for being Chinese; kids would tease me about the way my eyes, hair, and nose looked. I got into a few fights in the schoolyard as a result. During this stage of my racial identity development, I always wanted to be white. This continued into high school. I wanted wavy, more combable hair. I wanted to be taller. I wanted a sharper nose. I always felt inferior. Chinese people were always ugly to me. At the time, I wasn’t aware of the influences of having internalized Euro-American standards of beauty. I didn’t think I was very attractive. At the height of my racial self-hate, my looks actually disgusted me. Not accepting my ethnicity pushed me toward greater degrees of conformity and assimilation. Yet, I never felt I fit into the dominant culture either. Not feeling comfortable in either culture, I found myself marginalized and caught in the middle.

In university, I moved into another phase of racial identity development. Initially, I still didn’t like the fact that I was Chinese, but I began to challenge my negative self-feelings and attitudes toward my people. Fortunately, at this time, I had an opportunity to visit other cultures through international development work. It was in Africa that I observed the psychological effects of colonialism and Western domination. Witnessing black self-hatred helped me come to terms with my own racial self-hatred. This began a process of reclaiming my ethnicity, and eventually, I would study the impact of racism on black South Africans for my doctoral dissertation. I was attending a very Anglo-dominated graduate school, and it was an especially fertile environment in which to come to terms with my race. I realized that much of my perception of the world was based on a lack of acceptance of who I was. I grew increasingly uncomfortable with the feelings of self-hatred and was, in time, able to come to terms with them. I wrote my master’s thesis on the topic of racism against the Chinese in Canada, and this was obviously motivated by a struggle for racial self-acceptance. In time, I developed a great interest in my heritage and started buying and reading books about the Chinese and, in a variety of ways, immersed myself in Chinese culture.

My training in psychology helped me process what was going on inside me, both in realizing the effects of my experiences as a person of color and in coming to terms with the self-hate. Today, I regard my Chinese identity as an asset both personally and professionally. As I became clearer about my own ethnic heritage, I also became aware of the cultural bias in psychology and the need to redress the systematic neglect of minorities in both research and therapy. That, in turn, spawned an interest in multicultural counseling. But the process of racial self-acceptance is an ongoing one, and I have yet to completely free myself from what Bob Marley called “the chains of mental slavery.”

Question:

Let’s begin with some definitions. Who are the Asian Americans, and what characteristics do they share as a group?

Hocoy:

First, I think it is important to understand that there is a large degree of diversity among Asian Americans and that they do not conveniently fit into one categorization or description. There are many shades of yellow, so to speak, and it is difficult to make global generalizations. Having said that, individual and subgroup differences are significant, and there do exist commonalities that Asian cultures share. When I talk about Asian Americans, I am referring to people with Mongolian and early Chinese ancestry. This includes the mainland Chinese, Japanese, Koreans, the Vietnamese, people from Hong Kong, Taiwan, Singapore, Malaysia, the Philippines, Laos, Thailand, and others from that region. I know this is not inclusive of all Asians, as it omits East Indians and others, for instance, but these are the groups with which I am most familiar.

With regard to Asian Americans, it is useful to realize that there are a number of factors—historical, psychological, and otherwise—that set them apart as a group in America. First of all, unlike any other minority group, there is a history of warfare between the United States and many of these Asian countries. You have the Japanese in World War II, the Korean War (in which the Chinese and North Koreans were both involved), the Vietnam War, and so on. So, for many Americans, there is a visceral resentment and distrust of all things Asian. This is reflected in U.S. culture and media, where Asians were and, at times still, are portrayed as the prototypical villains.

I think the lack of acceptance of Asians in U.S. culture at least partially stems from the fact that Asians possess such a different worldview. For instance, “East vs. West” is a common dimension of comparison and dichotomy. Individuals who have been socialized into traditional Asian cultures are likely to possess completely different worldviews with philosophies, values, and beliefs that are very disparate from Western ones. This major difference, I think, engenders much of the fear and misunderstanding about Asians. Another important factor is that much of Asian culture and society is based on the value of collectivism, which in recent years has been associated with Communism. Such ideas go against the familiar values and traditions of individualism and capitalism that are so basic to American culture and thus threaten many Americans.

The history and treatment of Asians in the United States have caused them to be very closed in terms of their interactions with other Americans. Asians have generally kept to themselves in very small enclaves. For instance, to this day, there are Chinatowns in most large urban areas, which from early times served as ghettos that ensured survival in the economic and political structure of the United States. Another trait Asians generally possess is a tendency to be less overtly militant and politically active than other racial groups. As a result, they have been an easy and frequent target for abuse and discrimination. Although, it should be acknowledged that Asians have historically made significant challenges to the status quo through equity legislation; this has primarily been through the judicial system. Generally, Asians have been less likely than other ethnic groups to engage in activism toward redress of public policy. Characteristically, this is very reflective of the Asian attitude of not wanting to disturb things. There’s a saying among the Chinese: “If you don’t know what to do, at least don’t do anything.” This is very different from the American maxim: “If you don’t know what to do, at least do something.” This tendency is probably also related to the cultural norm of not showing certain emotions in public. It is very important in many Asian cultures that certain social protocols are followed and that one conforms to the cultural script of not displaying emotions in public.

Recent research findings show that Asians, as a collective group, are more accepted in America than other ethnic minorities. This too seems to be culturally based, with Asians generally perceived as less threatening to the status quo or dominant culture. The Chinese, for example, have survived in America by not having competed economically with whites. Historically, they have always offered services that were lacking. For instance, when the Chinese were first brought to California, it was to provide services typically offered by women. California society at that time was predominantly male. Pioneer men had crossed the flatlands and over the Rockies looking for land and gold. Their womenfolk had, in general, remained behind. So, when the Chinese came to America, they took on what at that time was considered women’s work. They cooked, cleaned, and did laundry for these pioneers. The Chinese also provided valuable labor for the expanding railway and picked grapes for the wine industry. These were services that were needed and desired by the dominant culture but were not in direct competition with those offered by whites. This tendency has generally held true to this day. Thus, in America, Asians have taken jobs that other Americans have just not wanted, especially those which are tedious and long in hours. Even now, many corner stores and restaurants are owned by Koreans, Chinese, and Japanese. These businesses involve excessive work and meager wages but offer a means of developing marketable skills and services without displacing and incurring the wrath of others in the economy.

Question:

Could you next talk about the various names that Asian-American subgroups use to describe and identify themselves as well as protocols in addressing various individuals within Asian culture?

Hocoy:

Again, I can speak most confidently about the Chinese. In terms of racial self-labeling, I think most Chinese regard themselves as Chinese, Chinese American, or just American. The name or self-reference that one uses is a useful source of information. Clinically, by asking clients what they consider themselves or what they would like to be called, you can get a sense of where they fall in terms of acculturation; namely, assimilation, integration, marginalization, or separation. If they identify themselves as Chinese, this says something very different about their cultural attachment, as opposed to referring to themselves as American. An integrationist would be more likely to say, “I’m Chinese American,” whereas a separationist is more likely to self-label as Chinese. An assimilationist would typically use the term American, while someone marginalized would probably have difficulty identifying with any of these labels. It is thus quite useful for a provider to ask this question early on and to use it as an entree into these issues.

Personal names also vary somewhat from person to person. More recent immigrants and more traditional individuals use their Chinese name as their legal name. You have the person’s family name, preceded by their Chinese first name. Both would be phonetically translated into English for purposes of pronunciation. Again, this kind of information is suggestive of a person’s cultural background and degree to which they had been acculturated. On the other hand, a fifth-generation Chinese-American family would probably have an Anglicized or transliterated family name, with a Christian first name in addition to a more familiar Chinese first name that is used only in the home. This is my experience. I was given a Chinese first name at birth, which is known to and used only by family members. The Chinese practice of naming is similar to the Native tradition. A person is named according to their character at birth, and it is believed that this quality will define them throughout life. My Chinese name is Siao Kee, which translates into “small wonder” to reflect my early curiosity about the world. Many Asians are also given a European name for the sake of convenience in interacting with the non-Asian world.

There are other aspects of naming that are important to know. Within Asian cultures, great honor is given to authority and age, and this is manifest in a general respect for people who are older than you. So, if there is someone in the room of similar age or older than the therapist, it is important to address them formally and with deference, as Mr. or Ms. or whatever is appropriate. If there were several people present, the therapist should address the older person first. Conversely, an Asian client may feel uncomfortable calling a therapist, especially an older one, anything other than “Doctor,” even if invited to do so. I, for instance, didn’t call my supervisor by his first name until the sixth year of graduate school, when I was about to defend my dissertation. I didn’t feel comfortable referring to him in such a familiar manner until I was of similar academic status. It is also important to be aware that older Asian clients, as a result of their traditional Asian worldview, expect to be treated with a great deal of tolerance and patience by the therapist. Asian culture dictates that elders be treated with an obvious tone of respect and deference, and such an attitude is a necessity for facilitating rapport with older clients.

Question:

These sound like some very useful and important suggestions. Let’s go back to a topic you alluded to earlier—the history of Asians in the United States. Could you give a nutshell version of this history?

Hocoy:

Of the Asians, the Chinese were the first immigrants in the United States. Unlike other people of color who were either brought here forcibly, such as African Americans, or already here and physically displaced, such as Native Americans and some Latinos/as, they came voluntarily, as did the other Asians. The history of Chinese in the United States dates back to the 1840s. Many Chinese-American families have roots in California that go back many generations to the time of the Gold Rush. They came mainly for a better life and to escape harsh economic circumstances and a variety of social problems in their native lands. Again, the early presence of Chinese made up for a lack of people willing to do what was considered women’s work in California. They found work in areas which were sanctioned by the dominant culture. From these vocations came the core of the stereotypes of the Chinese laundry, the Chinese restaurant, hiring a Chinese cook, and so forth. They also were instrumental in building a national railroad system through both the United States and Canada. As I said, the Chinese were willing to take the jobs most Americans would not do. They were usually very dirty or involved high risk. There is a saying “not having a Chinaman’s chance,” which comes from this period. In the building of railroads, it was often necessary to dynamite the sides of a mountain. Chinese workers would be sent to set the dynamite, and often, it would go off prematurely or the mountain would collapse on them. Many Chinese died this way, and as a result, the phrase “a Chinaman’s chance” was coined. I have also heard the phrase used to describe the already-exhausted mine areas, which were the only sites in which the Chinese were allowed to look for gold during the Rush.

There is a long history of racial discrimination against Asians in both legislation and public policy. In 1882, Congress passed the Chinese Exclusion Act, which prohibited Chinese immigration for ten years. It was renewed in 1892 and became permanent law in 1902. This resulted in great difficulties for the Chinese men already here. They were forbidden to bring their wives over, but what they could do was go back and father children, and these offspring were allowed to enter. The result was a very lonely existence: a culture of lonely, hardworking men, isolated from the dominant culture, who kept largely to themselves and lived lives of great hardship and misery. By 1943, immigration restrictions were loosened, and women were allowed to enter. They worked as dressmakers and in sweatshops in the growing Chinatowns, while men opened laundries and restaurants and, as had become typical, took jobs that were of interest to no one else.

And then there are the more recent reminders of discrimination against Asian Americans in the United States: the internment of Japanese during World War II; reactions to the influx of Southeast Asian refugees; reactions to Asian economic success in the United States; reactions to the emergence of Japan and the other “four tigers” as global economic forces; and in the 1990s, talk of quotas limiting the enrollment of Asian-American students in U.S. colleges, universities, and specialized professional programs.

There is anti-Asian sentiment intertwined throughout the history of this country, permeating all aspects of U.S. society—some more subtle than others. For instance, with the growing interest in Asian martial arts in the late 1960s, American television producers conceived of a storyline about a Chinese Shaolin priest set in the Old West. Chinese martial arts expert and actor, Bruce Lee, was initially chosen for the role of Cain in the television series Kung Fu. When the show was pilot-tested, the white audience felt quite strongly that Lee was just too Chinese for the part. A white actor, David Carradine, was chosen instead. Bruce Lee was a hero to many Asians in North America at the time, myself included. One can only imagine the racial affirmation that Lee could have provided for Asians if he had been chosen for the TV series.

Question:

Let’s change our focus somewhat and begin to look at issues related to help-seeking and treatment. First, could you talk about issues that influence the ways in which Asian Americans go about seeking help?

Hocoy:

In general, we are talking about very closed and tightly knit communities. They are very insular and cohesive and distrustful of outsiders. Their survival has depended on it being this way. These enclaves or ghettos—the Koreatowns, Chinatowns, Japantowns—have learned to live on the fringes and construct for themselves self-sufficient alternative social and economic systems outside the dominant culture. As a result of this mentality, Asians can be very distrustful of white people. The Chinese call whites “ghost people” and consider their ways of life to be strange and sometimes inferior. There is clearly a sense of arrogance here. Both Japanese and Chinese mythologies contain beliefs that view themselves as highly advanced in terms of human evolution. My grandmother described it to me as there being a racial hierarchy according to color. White people reside below the Chinese because they are “pasty and ill looking” in appearance, whereas the Chinese have a touch of gold in their skin. Another example comes from the name China itself, which literally means Middle Kingdom; the early Chinese were pompous enough to believe that the world revolved around them. The Chinese do bring with them a rich cultural tradition outside of the United States and a long history of inventing everything from gunpowder to eyeglasses, from ice cream to the printing press. When these events were playing themselves out in the East, Europeans were still barbarians. This history engenders much pride among Chinese as well as arrogance and serves to support and justify their isolation.

In times of need, Asian Americans are more likely to turn to their immediate and extended family for assistance rather than to an outsider. There are, however, exceptions, like the family doctor, who may not be Chinese but who is someone the family has known for years and has learned to trust. With regard to psychological problems, Asian families may just live with the problem, preferring to work it out themselves rather than going outside for help. Psychological counseling, as a profession, is clearly not an integral part of Asian culture. So, if a client is Asian American, the therapist may have to initially describe and explain the purpose of therapy, the role of the counselor and client, and so on. It should not be assumed that the client understands the nature of therapy. Therapy is a foreign concept in Asian culture. Meditation and self-reflection are traditional ways to self-knowledge, while the writings and sayings of Confucius, Lao Tse, and other philosophers act as guides for human behavior. In addition, one finds extensive informal networks of support within the family and community which provide counseling and advice.

Another thing to be aware of regarding help-seeking is the fact that there may be a great degree of shame and stigma associated with someone leaving the community and seeking professional help. The airing and telling of private affairs to strangers are virtually unheard of; it is a concept foreign to the Asian worldview. Part of this has to do with a fear of not being understood culturally by Western counselors. So, building rapport is an important first step to therapy. It is important for therapists to convey—both explicitly and implicitly—a knowledge of Asian culture or at least a respect for it and an openness to learning more. It is also helpful to understand that given this general taboo, those who do seek out therapy are either very acculturated or desperate and have probably exhausted what resources they had within the culture and feel compelled to go outside.

Question:

The discussion of help-seeking has led naturally to aspects of the Asian family and community. Could you talk more about family and community and how these shape what happens in therapy with an Asian American client?

Hocoy:

To understand Asian culture, it’s important to grasp the philosophical traditions and religious influences on the culture. One needs, for instance, to understand the role of Confucian ethics and the Buddhist “middle path” of moderation in life. Asians, in general, come from strong, interdependent family and community bonds; both are very self-contained and self-sufficient. Chinatown, for example, is a microcosm of the greater society in that it contains everything that is needed for life and sustenance. In terms of the family, an important value is the obedience of children. The flip side is respect for elders and their wisdom. These are Confucian values. In the home, there are many token gestures manifesting these attitudes. For instance, in my own family, my grandmother would always sit at the head of the table, even though she was demented in her later years. If there was a big decision to be made, her opinion would always be sought. It was obviously a token gesture, but what was more important was that it was a sign of respect. It’s considered taboo to send relatives off to old-age homes once they get old, as is common among Anglo Americans. Doing so is almost unheard of and looked upon with disdain in Asian cultures.

Asian culture is heavily based on interdependence; thus, dependence is not necessarily regarded as a bad thing as it is in Western culture, which places prime value on independence. This interdependence is reflected in the Asian attitude toward family relationships. It is understood that children will be dependent upon their parents for caretaking and that these same parents will eventually become dependent upon their adult children in old age. Since the therapeutic situation is a relationship, this value will likely manifest itself in therapy in terms of the client’s dependence on the therapist and in terms of the client’s goals for life and treatment. It is particularly important to realize that these priorities may not have to do with achieving relational independence.

Much communication in the Asian family is indirect, wherein messages are not directly stated but instead must be inferred. There’s a reticence to talk about personal issues openly. I think the fear is that someone may be embarrassed by what is said. In my own family, certain things are understood. For example, my mother says something without referring directly to it, but everyone knows what she’s referring to. The therapist may see some of this reticence in therapy, especially in regard to subjects that are taboo or that the client finds sensitive. Sex might be such a topic.

The therapist may not initially get a very explicit account of the problem. Much may be implied, and clinicians must be attuned to subtle meanings and innuendoes. This is especially true with clients who are less acculturated. Again, this indirectness has to do with avoiding embarrassment. Clinicians need to be tactful and equally subtle in identifying the client’s problems, being careful to validate the client’s experiences, avoiding judgment or confrontation, and gradually honing in on the problem. In treatment, it may initially come down to talking in metaphors and indirectly about a topic in order to make the client feel comfortable enough to name and address it directly. This cultural tendency to imply meaning rather than to speak of it explicitly is very foreign to most Western therapists and counselors, whose training has focused on the spoken word and direct verbal communication. The therapist needs to recognize this difference as a cultural artifact rather than be frustrated by it.

Another Asian value that may result in different therapeutic goals for clients is tolerance for ambiguity and inconsistency in life. In Western psychotherapy, psychological integration is promoted through the achievement of clarity about one’s life, consistency in various aspects of one’s life, and the resulting decrease of cognitive dissonance. Among Asians, however, the ability to tolerate the ambiguities and contradictions in one’s life is considered an aspect of maturity. Thus, striving for complete consistency in or understanding of one’s life may not be considered as important nor a goal of therapy. In general, it is essential for Western counselors to realize that the paradigms and models upon which Western psychology is based are infused with Euro-American middle-class values and may have little application to other cultural groups.

A sense of balance and reciprocity is also very important in Asian cultures. Because the family is such a cohesive unit, individuals are brought up to think of family over self. This basic aspect of the Asian worldview is diametrically opposed to the Western emphasis on self-realization. For instance, research has shown that the concept of “self-esteem” does not exist in Japanese culture. This value difference between the two cultures often becomes a major problem for young Asian Americans who become caught in a conflict of values between generations. The older generation demands obedience and respect; the younger one has been more socialized to the American values of independence and individualism. The result is a conflict of cultures and the need for reconciling two very disparate cultural views and sorting out the confusion as to how to live in both worlds.

Another aspect of therapy with Asians relates to the tendency of Asian cultures to de-emphasize the self and a prescription against self-promotion. For instance, one is not supposed to accept a compliment without resistance. If I compliment my mother on her cooking and the preparation of a certain dish, she would never acknowledge that it was deserved. She would probably say instead: “Oh, no. There’s not enough salt, and this is actually the worst I’ve ever made.” The implication of this for the clinical setting is that affirmation of the client’s self, which goes against cultural norms, may be difficult for him or her to model. A corollary to the lack of emphasis on the self is the avoidance of personal embarrassment. Consequently, direct confrontations and demands on the client to accept personal responsibility for personal difficulties or specific behavior may be problematic for the therapeutic relationship.

Question:

What are some of the common problems that might bring Asian Americans into treatment?

Hocoy:

Again, I want to emphasize the fact that many Asians in the United States today still retain traditional norms and values; most of the Asian population in America are immigrants. So, only a limited segment of the Asian American community will ever find their way into a therapist’s office. Those who do are generally more acculturated and bicultural, often students, as well as those who are particularly desperate for help and have not been able to find it in the family or community. For students, intergenerational and cultural differences are commonly a source of difficulty. Young people who have grown up with Western norms often find themselves at odds with parents who have very different values and expectations of them. One such issue revolves around strong parental pressures on the young person to excel. This can become especially problematic when the parents of their non-Asian peers are saying to their children: “Just relax. Do what you want.” In traditional Asian homes, discipline is strongly emphasized, as is the demand to be successful academically and otherwise. One symptom that may emerge is depression, resulting from feelings of failure and inadequacy, engendered by internalized, unrealistic family expectations. Also common is a conflict between independent needs and loyalty to family. Excessive guilt can also result from not completely conforming to family demands, as obedience to parents and loyalty are cardinal Confucian rules. In general, holding Western values as offspring of traditional Asian parents is inherently problematic.

A related problem has to do with identity confusion resulting from minority status and the impact of discrimination on personality development. Some young people have a hard time identifying with their Asian heritage because this identity is often disparaged in their non-Asian peer group. Strong pressures to assimilate to Western ways are also likely to be communicated, either explicitly or implicitly. A client might experience “a tyranny of shoulds,” pulling in opposite directions. They should be doing this according to the peer group; they should be doing that according to their family. In addition, people may not possess a strong sense of themselves, of who they are, or of what they really want to do. Instead, they may feel caught between two worlds: one side saying, “You should be studying or practicing violin; you shouldn’t be going out drinking”; and the other countering, “No, no, man. Come on out; you should be getting stoned and having lots of sex in college.” It’s a very difficult thing to bridge these different worlds. Feelings of being different because of one’s ethnicity and not completely fitting in are often accompanied by feelings of alienation and loneliness as well as those of being misunderstood. It is a short psychological step from feeling different to feeling inferior—that there’s something wrong with me; that I’m not worthy of love. And there’s the depression that comes from wanting to be someone I’m not and will never be.

Many of these characteristics are subsumed in the literature under the title “mismatch syndrome,” which speaks to the disparity in values between one’s culture of origin and the dominant culture. Common symptoms of this mismatch are self-rejection and low self-esteem, depression, an emphasis on negativity, rigidity in thinking and problem solving, and even attempts to escape reality via addiction and suicide. Also inherent in the mismatch syndrome is active value conflict: traditional vs. modern gender role definition, an emphasis on family and community vs. self-interest, age status vs. youth emphasis, obedience and conformity vs. questioning authority and individualism. Self-restraint and formality may lead to a lack of social experience. People brought up in a culture that suppresses the open sharing of emotions may find themselves alienated and unable to make contact with their non-Asian peers, who depend on sharing emotions in order to move toward intimacy. Lack of emotional expression can also lead to the somatization of various ills. Insomnia is a particularly common way in which such problems are manifest.

Other typical problems for which Asian Americans may seek help include compulsive gambling, cross-cultural dating and marriage, overbearing parents, caring for aged parents and other family members, immigrant poverty, extreme work ethics, racial identity issues, and post-traumatic stress in those escaping war-torn countries of origin.

Question:

In carrying out an assessment of a new Asian American client, what factors do you think are most important to attend to?

Hocoy:

In working with Asian Americans, the first thing I would assess is where a client stands on the continuum of acculturation. It is useful to think of four modes of acculturation. Integration implies that the person equally embraces ethnic as well as dominant culture. An assimilationist tends to neglect his or her own culture in favor of fully adopting the ways of the dominant society. A separatist chooses to maintain ethnic ties and traditions—at the same time refusing to take on Western values/culture. Those who are marginalized are caught between cultures, unable to identify as Asian, yet at the same time uncomfortable in the Anglo world. It’s vital to make an assessment of where each client stands in relation to these four possibilities and to then identify the social demands that are impinging on them. In my own work, I tend to promote and encourage the integration mode. Research strongly indicates that integration—or  biculturalism , as it is sometimes called—brings with it the greatest likelihood of psychological well-being, with maximum flexibility, integration, and wholeness. Assimilation, with its rejection of cultural roots, is likely to bring up problems related to self-denial. Separation brings with it difficulties in navigating the dominant culture and can lead to isolation. Marginalization results in a lack of connection to any group and the possibility of serious mental health problems.

Equally important is assessing the nature of current demands upon the client, particularly from family. There may be serious difficulties both in the situation where

· (a)

a family tends toward separation and is putting substantial pressure on one of its members to be more Asian, while the member has chosen a more assimilationist direction, and

· (b)

a client wants to remain traditionally Asian and must function in an environment that demands conformity to mainstream values.

It is the disparity between where a person chooses to be on the continuum and what the environment demands of them that is critical.

Other dimensions that I would assess include language dominance, degree of adaptive behavior, degree of identification with cultural heritage, attitudes toward that heritage and themselves (self-esteem), life history (particularly with regard to events of intercultural significance, like racism), and attitudes toward the dominant culture.

Question:

You talked earlier about cultural differences and therapeutic style. What other suggestions might you have regarding establishing rapport and working therapeutically with Asian Americans?

Hocoy:

I think something that is essential for non-Asian counselors to do prior to working with an Asian client is a thorough self-assessment of their own competence to work with this cultural group. They must possess sufficient understanding and knowledge about the culture as well as an awareness of what they are bringing to the therapeutic relationship—namely, the assumptions and values of Western psychotherapy, their own worldview, and personal experiences with biases and attitudes toward Asians. This is a critical first step.

As alluded to earlier, it may help to remember that the concept of counseling is foreign to traditional Asians. It’s the counselor’s responsibility to introduce them to the roles of the counselor and client and explain the process of therapy before any kind of rapport can be established. Counselors have to be perceived as knowledgeable about that client’s cultural group right off. That’s particularly important for Asians because they may be apprehensive about therapy. Fear of shame and distrust of non-Asians act as potential obstacles to building rapport. Thus, it is critical that the therapist demonstrates clearly that he or she respects and understands the cultural differences that exist and that these differences are not obstacles. At the same time, therapists must be very careful of stereotyping and of recognizing the kind of expectations they hold about Asian clients.

When treating Asian clients, it may be important for Western therapists to be more directive than they normally are with non-Asian clients and to be prepared when an Asian client exhibits what might be considered more than normal dependency in the therapeutic relationship. Western conceptions of psychological health emphasize client responsibility, openness, and personal exploration as well as self-reliance and self-determination in the therapeutic process. Clinical research, however, has found Asians to prefer a more directed and authoritative therapeutic style and to expect a certain degree of caretaking and direction. It is also important for the therapist to be nurturing and to have the therapeutic interaction reflect a familiar family atmosphere: directive regarding instructions, deferential to authority, but also nurturing.

For Asian Americans, few emotions are allowed and there is generally difficulty with public displays of feelings. Emotionally laden content may not be easily discussed or easily identified by the therapist. The therapist must realize that there may be substantial difficulty with trusting and establishing rapport, given the taboos related to going to non-Asians for help and expressing emotions in public. Similarly, interventions should reflect or be consistent with Asian norms. The alternatives offered should be equally subtle, indirect, and nonconfrontational. There’s a risk of Asian clients dropping out early, so it’s especially important to build rapport and trust and to intuit any problems and check them out early on. As the client can be rather nonverbal, the therapist may have to ask if there are problems or identify them rather than waiting for them to be reported.

Asians also tend to have a very different nonverbal communication system. Providers need to be aware of this because unlike the Western therapeutic focus on speaking, much of the communication in Asian cultures is nonverbal. The meanings of facial expressions, gestures, eye contact, and various cultural symbols or metaphors are usually completely different from Western ones. Research has found Asians to be a “low-contact” culture; that is, more comfortable with little physical contact and larger interpersonal distances. Studies also indicate that clients from various cultural backgrounds feel most comfortable with therapists that show similar non-verbal behavior. This mirroring of the client’s non-verbal communication happens on three levels: proxemics, which refers to physical distance and touch; kinesics, which refers to body and facial movement, gestures, and eye contact; and paralinguistics, which refers to the extra-verbal elements of speech, such as rate, tone, pauses, and so forth. It is absolutely essential that therapists pay special attention to the non-verbal dimension of therapy. Research has shown that appropriate non-verbal behavior conveys respect, honesty, interest, and genuineness.

With Asian Americans, the therapist may notice very subtle body gesturing and facial expressions. Large displays of emotion will rarely be seen, even if much is being felt and experienced. In many cultures, emotional states are rather transparent, easily read in the faces and body language of clients. With Asians (traditionally socialized), non-verbal communication is much more subtle. Sometimes, all one can discern is a very slight head nod as a sign of affirmation if a question is asked. There may also be a general reticence. Asians are brought up to be indirect and to avoid emotional expressiveness. You probably won’t see much gregariousness or strong displays of emotion. Also, as suggested above, non-verbal cues may have different meanings than for non-Asians. For instance, giggling often means embarrassment rather than a sign of humor. This is particularly true for the Japanese. Irrespective of the particular message, it is vital not to assume a commonality between Asian and Western “non-verbals.”

The therapist should not challenge or confront avoidance or resistance immediately or in any way single out the client for what might be experienced as criticism. One may eventually be able to address relevant issues through more indirect communication. It is, however, important to lead with regard to the direction of therapy and spell out expectations the clinician has of the client. This is different than being confrontational, which is likely to induce shame and guilt. Again, it’s related to “saving face.” The therapist can subtly bring up deficits and shortcomings in the person—but not directly. Asians do tend to be familiar with very direct advice giving—but as to how or where they might go or what they might do as opposed to direct commentary on their personality, faults, or shortcomings.

For example, if the therapist wants to tell the client the reason he or she doesn’t have a very active social life is because of excessive negativity, it must be stated in a way that the Asian client can hear. With Westerners, a therapist can generally be more direct: “I’ve noticed something and want to give you feedback on it: It seems you’re very critical of other people.” With an Asian client, it is preferable to be more subtle. For example, the therapist might gently ask, “Do you think there is anything you contribute to the fact that your social life is not so good?” When the concern involves aspects of the client’s personality or interpersonal style, it might be shameful, so it’s important to be more subtle, indirect, implicit about it. At the same time, Asians tend to be quicker to listen to implicit messages than non-Asians. That’s because of Asian cultural emphases on subtleties in meaning.

Finally, it is important to remember that Asian Americans often experience a sense of guilt or selfishness in pursuing their own interests in therapy as opposed to thinking of the family first. The whole act or exercise of going to therapy is an individualistic pursuit. A client may feel some guilt around it. There is also a sense of collective embarrassment to have to go outside the community. It is a capitulation saying, “My community cannot serve me.” It may, in addition, be considered a sign of weakness to go outside the community. These are all issues Asian clients might bring with them to therapy.

Question:

Finally, could you share with us a case that shows how these various themes that you have defined all come together?

Hocoy:

When I worked as a university counselor, I’d very often work with Asian students feeling a lot of pressure to excel in school and having difficulty living in two cultures. Terrence is a good example. He was an engineering student who came to counseling because he was getting Bs, and there was a strong demand both from his family and from himself to get better—and even perfect—grades. Terrence revealed other difficulties as well. Because he focused almost exclusively on academics, he had developed few social skills and didn’t have many friends. During his second year of university, these various factors came together to cause a depression. He found it difficult to concentrate in school and was increasingly losing interest because he was coming to the realization that there was more to life than just school. When his marks deteriorated, pressures from home increased. At the same time, he had difficulty forming the friendships he desired with non-Asians (his primary peer group).

It was obvious from his presentation that he wasn’t clear what therapy was about. Nor was Terrence very psychologically-minded. He had a low awareness of his own emotions and had difficulty identifying them. He experienced an amorphous bundle of vague, uncomfortable feelings, and he couldn’t dissect, label, or identify their source. He initially came in because of slumping marks, saying that he wanted to be able to get As and that he had problems with concentration. Through joint exploration, we discovered that he wanted to partake in more extracurricular activities. He also wanted to establish relationships with his non-Asian peers and had a romantic interest in a particular young woman (who was non-Asian). However, he knew his parents would not approve of his having a non-Asian girlfriend, nor the time he spent away from studying. It was the family’s position that school was a time for study and that relationships and hobbies could come afterwards.

It became clear very early that much of his conflict was cultural in nature. He was caught between two worlds: unable to negotiate socially and establish relationships with non-Asians and, at the same time, unable to motivate himself to focus on his schoolwork. He also questioned the expectation that he had to date another Asian. Ultimately, what was at conflict were Asian values regarding the paramount importance of study and maintaining Asian cultural separation vs. the value of making friendships with non-Asian peers and spending more time in nonacademic pursuits. He did not feel a part of his non-Asian peers and was increasingly feeling unaccepted by his family because of his “failing” grades. In short, he was increasingly becoming marginalized.

We spent the initial sessions helping him discern his emotions; often, I had to make suggestions as to what he might be feeling. With time and effort, a bit more clarity emerged in what he was feeling. He had great difficulty separating his feelings from those of other people, whether it be his peers or his parents. His emotional boundaries were very blurred—not uncommon in individuals from collectivist cultures. He was eventually able to report feeling pressured by his family to pursue good grades at the expense of social activities and to date and marry someone Asian. These were accompanied by simultaneous feelings of guilt and resentment. He was eventually able to understand that he had internalized the pressure his family had placed on him vis-à-vis academic performance and began to sense that there could be a difference between the demands his family placed on him and what he wanted for himself. It became clearer to him why his studying had become difficult and why he was internally caught between the values of two cultures. He also came to recognize the disparity between the Asian values of academic success and cultural isolation and his desire for relationships with those in the dominant culture and activities outside of school.

I encouraged him to pursue an integrationist path—one that allowed him to maintain his cultural traditions and, at the same time, establish relations outside the Asian community. By this point, he had developed clarity that this is what he wanted to do but felt uncertain as to how to proceed.

I assured him that he could participate in the non-Asian world without compromising his heritage and that, in fact, he could have the best of both worlds. The issue with his parents actually worked itself out as his marks improved because he was able for the first time to pursue the things he wanted to do, including spending more time enjoying himself and establishing friendships with non-Asians.

Working with Arab and Muslim American Clients: An Interview with Marwan Dwairy

15-1Demographics

15-1

This chapter expands on the information provided in Chapter 5 regarding collective personalities of Arab and Muslim individuals and families. In the decade following 9/11, and stimulated by the attacks, U.S. involvement in wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, growing fears of terrorism, and longstanding prejudices against Arab and Muslim Americans quickly escalated into significant rates of racial hatred and hate crimes. The Arab American Anti-Discrimination Committee, for example, reported 700 violent acts against Arab Americans during the two months following 9/11. According to Bonnie and Hasan (2004), 53 percent of the Arab/Muslims they sampled reported incidents of discrimination, 47 percent having been the object of racism, and 46 percent having been called racist names. Such experiences weigh heavy on the psyche of Arab and/or Muslim Americans and represent, as we have seen throughout this text, real threats to mental health and well-being. These events represent the latest in a long history of evolving dynamics and changing identities within the Arab and/or Muslim communities in the United States. The first wave of Arab immigrants arrived between 1890 and 1920, and they were primarily Christian. They came from the area that is now Syria and Lebanon, primarily for economic reasons, and assimilated easily into American culture. According to Abudabbeh (1996), the second wave had very different characteristics:

They were dominated by Palestinians, Egyptians, Syrians, and Iraqis, arrived with an “Arab identity” that was absent in the first wave of immigrants. With this crystallization of an Arab identity came also the practice of traditions and customs that affected either a hyphenated identity as “Arab Americans” or sometimes alienation from the majority of society. By the 1970s, the trend of easy assimilation began to change into a cultural separateness built on political ideology centered on the Arab-Israeli conflict and based on rejecting Western norms and customs. (p. 335)

A final peak of immigration occurred after the 1967 war between Israel and the Arab world and diminished dramatically after September 11, 2001. The last group to arrive in any significant numbers was Iraqis, escaping first from the Iraq-Iran War and then a decade later from the first Gulf War. This population exhibited particularly high levels of mental health problems and trauma. The tightening of immigration laws and legal statuses post-9/11—and again after the Gulf Wars—has made travel between the United States and their home countries impossible and has caused much distress for many Arab and/or Muslim families. The history of Arab and/or Muslims in America is especially complex because it reflects the ever-changing landscapes in relation to what is happening in both America and the Middle East. For example, as Abu-Baker (2006) points out, “differences in the ethnic and political conscience of each wave of immigrants reflects the change in the geopolitical map of the Arab World” (p. 33). Similarly, as you shall learn from our interview with Marwan Dwairy, Arab and/or Muslim families often find themselves struggling with challenges of assimilation to their native, collective family patterns.

The 2010 U.S. Census data estimates 3.5 million Arab Americans: 80 percent are U.S. citizens while 37 percent are foreign-born. This population is about equally distributed between Christians and Muslims and emigrated primarily from the Middle East. As a collective, they share the Arabic language and descend from nomadic tribes from the Arabian Peninsula. Muslim Americans number 8.5 million, come from over 75 countries, and vary widely as to language, ethnicity, and national origin. In general, the combined Arab and/or Muslim American populations are younger (30 percent below 18 years old), more highly educated (40 percent have earned bachelor degrees), and earn more (over $50,000 yearly) than the average American. The vast majority resides in major cities (such as New York, Detroit, and Los Angeles) and is concentrated in 11 U.S. states.

Abu-Baker (2006) enumerates a number of difficulties and demands that Arab and/or Muslims regularly face in their adaptation to life in the United States. These include:

· Expectations that already settled immigrants will help bring over and settle relatives and friends

· Difficulties related to failing to develop language proficiency in English

· Problems of living in a non-Islamic country where religious requirements often clash with “the rhythm of American daily life”

· Work difficulties where individuals cannot find jobs in their professions, a resulting lessening of social status, and difficulties related to having to work in family businesses

· Differences in social interaction patterns between the collective and interdependent nature of Arab societies and families and the more individualistic values and interactive styles of mainstream America

· Increased tensions between spouses, tensions created by inhibitions on interfaith and intercultural relationships and marriages, and conflicts between parents and children over changing behaviors, values, and parenting practices

15-2Family and Cultural Values

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As stated earlier, Arab Americans identify and practice in about equal numbers as Muslims and Christians. Abudabbeh (1996) offers the following overview of Islam:

The essence of Islam, as preached by the Prophet Mohammed, was transmitted through the Qur’an, which is believed to be the literal word of God. In addition to the Qur’an, the laws of society were elaborated upon by adding the Prophet’s own traditional sayings (hadith) and his practices (sunna). A fourth dimension was also added, taking into account certain pre-Islamic traditions and also integrating other existing societal norms and customs. Except by implication, the Qur’an does not contain explicit doctrines or instructions; basically, it provides guidance. The hadith and sunna, however, contain some specific commands on issues such as marriage and the division of property. They also address daily habits as to how the believer should worship God and how all people should treat each other. (pp. 335–336)

There are five basic tenets, called the “Pillars of Islam,” that define religious belief:  shahada  (oral testimony that “There is no God but Allah, and Mohammad is His prophet”); Salah (ritual prayer performed five times a day); Diyam (fasting during the holy month of Ramadan); Zakah (the giving of alms to the poor); and haj (pilgrimage to Mecca once in a lifetime). An additional prescription,  Jihad , also exists. Although it has been often translated as “making war against the infidel,” it is more broadly understood as the universal precept to be strong in one’s efforts—intellectual, physical, spiritual—for the good of all. Dwairy (2006) adds the following distinction between religion and politics:

Antagonism and hostility to the West is divorced from any true Islamic fundamental belief. On the contrary, Islam is very clear about the need to accept and respect other monotheistic religions, such as Christianity and Judaism. There are many verses in the Qur’an and in the Hadith that preach the advantages of diversity and the value of tolerance between nations. Extreme fundamentalist Muslim groups employ different interpretations of Islam (other than Qur’an or Sunna) to inflame antagonism against the West, an antagonism which had its roots in Western imperialism and unconditional support of the Israeli occupation, rather than in religious difference. (p. 17)

Although it is estimated that there are 14 million Arab Christians worldwide, they represent half the Arab population in the United States. The original split of Christianity into Eastern and Western branches occurred in the fifth century over the basic theological question of whether Christ was “spirit and body” or of “a single nature,” which is referred to as “Monophyte.” Middle-Eastern Christians, including Arabs, belonged to the Monophyte tradition, which in turn broke into various Eastern Orthodox ethnic sects. Most Christian Arabs merged into the American church system, at first especially Roman Catholic and Greek and Russian Eastern Orthodox, but today, very few ethnic Eastern parishes still exist.

Politically and culturally, Arab Christians identify very strongly with their Muslim brothers and sisters. They have also been in the forefront of Arab/Muslim politics. They were leaders in the early Arab nationalistic movement, actively opposed the negative and stereotyping of Arabs in the United States and the West, and have provided some of its most prominent spokespeople, such as Edward Said and Hanan Ashwawi.

In turning to Arab and/or Muslim American families, we must first acknowledge what will be the central theme in Dwairy’s interview: the collective nature of the Arab and/or Muslim family and psyche. Elsewhere, Dwairy (2006) has written the following about the collective aspect of Arab Muslim society:

Individuals in a collective society are dependent for their survival on their families; and families’ cohesion, economy, status, and reputation are in turn dependent on individuals’ behavior and achievements. Individual choices in life are collective matters, and therefore almost all major decisions in life are determined by the collective … In the collective, social norms and values determine the course of people’s life rather than personal decisions, and therefore diversity within such a collective is very limited. People think, feel, and behave according to prior determined standards. Within the family, it is unusual to find diverse attitudes in social, religious, or political issues. All family members adopt and voice similar attitudes. (p. 24)

The Arab family has been described as patriarchal and authoritarian, hierarchical and extended. Although families have more recently tended—especially in the West—toward the establishment of individual households, allegiance to kin still remains strong. Men, women, and children are each given duties to perform in relation to each other and specific instructions on how to carry out these responsibilities. Men and women are expected to follow specific codes of family and honor, maintain the family, and rear the children. Communication within the family tends to be vertical rather than horizontal—top-down. Parents tend to “use anger and punishment and the children respond by crying, self-censorship, covering up, or deception” (Abudabbeh, 1996). Child-rearing techniques range from mild rebukes to threats, balanced by unconditional love and appreciation. This is especially true for sons. Boys and girls are treated differently, with an eye to instilling traditional sex role expectations in both. They are expected to maintain close family ties and discouraged from individualism and separation from parents and the family. They are expected to obey the authority of the father and family, as opposed to having and acting upon their own ideas. They spend more time with and are more emotionally attached to the mother, who often acts as a go-between in communication with the father. Abudabbeh (1996) points out that this style of parenting tends to encourage acting out and triangulation within the family. Of course, in many Arab and/or Muslim American families, these traditional patterns are challenged and often adjusted after immigration and over time in the United States. As we shall learn from Dwairy, respect and awareness for the collective nature of the Arab and/or Muslim family and psyche is critical to successful therapy.

15-3Our Interviewee

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Marwan Dwairy, D.Sc, received his doctorate from the Faculty of Medicine at the Technion University, Israel, in 1989. He is associate professor of psychology at Oranim Academic College, supervises three of their areas of study (educational, medical, and developmental psychology), and has also taught internationally. He is also a licensed clinical psychologist. In 1978, he established the first psychological services center for Arabs in Nazareth, Israel. Professor Dwairy carries out cross-cultural research on identity, individuation, parenting, and mental health and has developed and standardized several psychological tests for Arab populations. Finally, he has published several books, including his most recent, Counseling and Psychotherapy with Arabs and Muslims: A Culturally Sensitive Approach (New York: Teachers College Press, Columbia University, 2006).

15-3aThe Interview

Question:

Can you first talk about your own ethnic background and how it has impacted and shaped your work?

Dwairy:

I am a Palestinian-Arab citizen of Israel. This is the way I like to label my complex identity. Palestinians are the Arab peoples who live in Palestine and share national and cultural bonds with the Arab nations that live in different Arab countries in North Africa and Southeast Asia. My family is part of the 15 percent of Palestinians who remained in their homeland after the establishment of the State of Israel in 1948. As such, we became Israeli citizens. Unfortunately, the vast majority of Palestinian Arabs, including many members of my extended family, fled or were expelled from their homeland and then prevented from coming back to their homes in the area that became the State of Israel. They lost their properties and still continue to live as refugees outside their homeland. After several waves of Jewish immigration to Israel, Palestinian Arabs who became citizens of Israel in 1948 now constitute about 18 percent of its population. The vast majority are Muslims, followed by Christians, such as my family, also the Druze, who were diverted from Islam. I was raised in Nazareth, the biggest Arab town in Israel, among Muslims and Christians and studied in Israeli universities with Jewish students and teachers. Not surprisingly, national and cultural affiliation was a major lens through which I identified myself and those around me. Because of the conflict over statehood, nationality also became a major aspect of identity. Add to this mix the fact that Arabic culture is more collective and authoritarian, with the family or tribe holding priority over the individual. Within this political and cultural climate, the Western psychology that I was being exposed to in my education that tended to focus on the individual and to emphasize the self and self-actualization was both enlightening and fascinating to me.

After my graduation, I established the first Arab psychological center in Israel. It was in Nazareth. The most salient experience I remember about those early days was the fact that the people I saw in Nazareth were so different from those we learned about in theories of personality, psychopathology, and psychotherapy. The self or the ego as the core of the personality was either absent or enmeshed within a collective self or identity. Adults who one expected to be emotionally independent were still very dependent on their families. When I inquired about emotional experiences during therapy, I received moral answers such as, “It should not have been that way.” When I argued against the irrational “musts” that Albert Ellis saw as problematic, I realized how important and rational these “musts” were in protecting the individual from rejection and punishment. Unconditional positive regard and Rogerian nondirective therapy seemed senseless to people who came looking for direct advice. This experience was both frustrating and threatening for a psychologist like myself who was trained to believe that these were the tools I needed to understand and help people who came to me suffering from psychological problems.

During the early years of my work, I tried to “educate” the people to fit the theories I learned and believed to be universal. I gave many lectures and wrote many articles to make people understand their life and stresses according to “my” theories.

It was a period of “fighting the wind” and took many years to free myself of the illusion that the theories I learned were universal and to realize that they just did not fit these people. With this realization, I started to study and understand the psychology of people in collective cultures. And it was amazing to realize that despite the hegemony of the Western individualistic values in the media and social science, the vast majority of the people on earth live and think collectively.

I would like to make one more important point here. Unlike many Western-oriented thinkers, I do not believe that collectivism is an immature stage of social development and that society should necessarily move on to become individualistic, liberal, and democratic. I prefer to look at individualism and collectivism as two legitimate ways of living, each fitted to a different political and economical situation. When the state takes responsibility for the needs of its citizens (jobs, security, education, health, etc.) and the economic system allows the individual to be economically independent, then individualism is a reasonable alternative. But when—as in many states in Asia, Africa, and South America—governments do not take such responsibility for their citizens, the individual family or individual tribe interdependence seems crucial and necessary. Within such systems, the family or tribe, rather than the state, provide for the people’s needs. One should be aware that interdependent relationships are not a barrier to social and economic progress. It is simply an alternative way of living within which economy, science, culture, and prosperity can develop, as in Japan and many Asian and South American countries.

Question:

How would you define Arab- and Muslim-Americans, and what characteristics do they share? (For how this question is answered within the literature, see Chapter 5.)

Dwairy:

Arabs and Muslims immigrated to the United States in different waves and all from countries that tended toward collective lifestyles where the individual is expected to live by the shared norms, values, and interests. About half the Arab immigrants are Christians and half are Muslims. All speak Arabic. Regarding ethnicity, one can identify three separate Arab groups. First, there are those who came from Syria, Iraq, Lebanon, Palestine, and Jordan. This group tends to be more educated and includes the majority of Christian-Arab immigrants in the United States. Second are those who emigrated from North Africa, especially Egypt, Libya, Algeria, Tunisia, and Morocco. They are mostly Muslims and share many African traditions. Third are peoples who came from Saudi Arabia and the Persian Gulf countries; this group is mostly Muslim, too, and tends to be wealthier. Arab immigrants tend to be highly educated in comparison to the average American born in the United States.

Muslim, non-Arab immigrants number twice the population of Arab immigrants in the United States. Ethnically, they are quite diverse. They speak languages according to their countries of origin, such as Turkey, Pakistan, Iran, and Indonesia. This population includes Africans brought to the United States as Muslim slaves and other slaves who adopted Islam at a later date. Muslim, non-Arabs vary considerably in race and ethnicity. Some are Asian (as from Indonesia and Malaysia), Indian (as from Pakistan and Afghanistan), Middle Eastern (as from Turkey and Iran), and African (as from Uganda and Kenya).

Question:

What historical experiences should providers be aware of in relation to Arab and Muslim American communities and clients?

Dwairy:

Arabs and Muslims have historically viewed the West with great ambivalence and through the lenses of colonization of the Arab and Muslim world. The West—historically Europe and more recently America—is seen as the colonizer of lands and resources as well as an eternal hindrance to independence and national development. At the same time, it is considered powerful—even superior—because of its association with the scientific progress and technology that is so sought after in Arab and Muslim nations. This attitude is not based solely on the past but has been powerfully reinforced by the present invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq. This perception is based on the real facts of Western hegemony and also colored by the way Arabs and Muslims tend to explain their problems. Social and national problems are mainly attributed to Western colonialism and/or hegemony, and personal or familial problems are attributed to external factors, such as social circumstances, the state, or God’s will. This tendency to external attribution is also a problem in the application of Western psychology that emphasizes self-responsibility to Arabs and Muslims.

This historical relationship is frequently brought into the therapeutic encounter between Arab and/or Muslim clients and Western providers. It may take the shape of unconscious transference in which the client views the Western therapist as superior and powerful and at the same time as associated with the oppressor who enjoys the fruits of the colonialism without taking responsibility for the suffering it has caused. Providers need to be aware of the existence of this psychology of oppression—to understand and acknowledge it. Therapists also must make special efforts to understand the collective experience of their Arab and/or Muslim clients and to show an awareness and empathy for the differences in their worldviews. This kind of joining is crucial in establishing genuine trust with these clients. Keep in mind that for non-Western people, the experience of the personal is not differentiated from the collective. Communicating personally within the collective experience is very helpful in breaking down many barriers during therapy.

Providers also need to pay attention to issues associated with immigration and to understand and explore the conflicts around leaving one’s homeland and starting a new life in a foreign country. Complex mixtures of feeling love, commitment, disappointment, anger, and guilt upon leaving as well as admiration, frustration, and anger towards the United States and one’s new home are not uncommon. Transitioning from a traditional to a Western culture is also problematic, as is dealing with the daily conflicts around assimilation or differentiation accompanying one’s new lifestyle. The way each immigrant deals with these conflicts is different, and clients often need help in finding the best way for them and their family.

These conflicts typically exist between members of the family. Children are eager to become assimilated and adopt American values and norms, while their parents struggle to keep them tied to tradition and religion. Husbands become more quickly adapted to American life and spend much of the day at work and away from home, while their wives are expected to remain at home, as was the case in their homeland. But here they feel lonely without the larger family and the traditional company of other women. Because of these conflicts, many emotional and behavioral problems may emerge in the family.

Question:

Can you next discuss some of the factors that influence the ways that members from Arab and Muslim communities seek mental health and helping services?

Dwairy:

In order to understand the help-seeking behavior of Arabs and Muslims, we need to understand that they do not adopt the same dualism of the mind and body as Westerners do. Arabs and Muslims live their life holistically; therefore, most psychological distress is accompanied by somatic complaints. Western researchers tend to conceptualize this as somatization, implying a psychological distress that is expressed somatically. I disagree with this characterization because it is based on a clear-cut distinction between psychological and somatic processes, which is not the inner experience of most Eastern people.

Arabs and Muslims are not psychologically minded; rather, they give more attention to the body as the basis for living life. One of the famous proverbs in Arabic says ala’ql alsaleem fi aljesm alsaleem (healthy mind depends on healthy body). Within these cultures, bodily complaints draw more attention than emotional complaints and provoke sympathy and support. Psychological complaints are not viewed as deserving attention or help. Rather, the person is expected to tolerate them. The person who cannot do so both feels ashamed by their weakness and may be looked down upon by others because of it.

Due to the centrality of physical health and shame and when facing various distresses of life, Arabs and Muslims tend to seek help first from a physician and expect to receive medications to cure their bodily complains. As a by-product, it is assumed that the mind will be cured as well. Typically, they do not seek help from mental health professionals because they do not pay much attention to emotions nor believe that talking therapy is of any value. They also avoid psychiatrists because they are believed to be associated with madness.

Many Arabs and Muslims attribute psychological disorders to external entities such as the “evil eye” or “bad soul” that possess the body. That is why madness is called Jinnoon in Arabic. Again, this reflects their tendency to attribute their problems to external entities and avoid taking responsibility for the unaccepted behavior, thoughts, or feelings. These same people may seek help from religious healers (Shekhes) in order to undo the evil eye or to exhort the Jin. Believing in this system of cure, many patients find relief in such superstitious practices.

Because physicians and religious healers are the first sought out by Arab and Muslim clients, there is a real need for social workers, psychologists, and psychiatrists to develop cooperative relationships with them and seek appropriate referrals. Such cooperation is needed in order to legitimize clients seeking health from mental health clinicians as well as assuring that the full range of clients’ spiritual, physical, social, and psychological needs get addressed.

Question:

What do providers need to understand about the nature of Arab and Muslim American families and communities?

Dwairy:

The first thing to understand is that Arab and/or Muslim American families can be located along a continuum of lifestyle and value systems; that is, individualistic vs. collective values. They tend to come from collective societies that prioritize the needs of the family and familial harmony over the self-actualization of its individuals. In such family systems, individuals are directed by collective norms, values, and expectations rather than the self and its needs. Typically, Arab and/or Muslim families do not immigrate with the desire to adopt the individualistic and liberal values of the West. Rather, they immigrate because of economic or political reasons. Very few Arab and/or Muslim families come to the United States ready to assimilate into the Western style of life. Younger students who come to the States to study tend to be more open and ready to assimilate and adopt Western values. After immigration, it is more typical for families, as they become aware of American culture, to commit and hold on to their traditional culture to avoid being lost in the new society. Some even become more traditional than they had been in their homeland. Putting on a head scarf ( hijab ) for women or growing beards for men and attending prayers in the mosque is not only a commitment to religious duties, but it is also a way to conserve their identities.

It is important that providers avoid making cultural judgments about their clients’ collective lifestyle. Instead, I would recommend that they make every effort to be empathic and open—to learn and understand collective personality and the psycho-cultural rationale behind it and—adopt Rogerian empathy and unconditional positive regard to the collective culture as well as to the individual. A commitment to one’s collective culture can also be considered a defense or coping strategy that immigrant families adopt in order to withstand the distresses of immigration. A therapist’s neglect or disregard for collective culture is experienced as neglect or disregard of the person who possesses that collective self. Many therapists wrongly hold an attitude that “we are all in the end human beings regardless of race or culture.” Such a pseudo-humanistic belief not only devalues culture but also rejects the core of the self and identity that is collective among Arabs and/or Muslims.

Arab and/or Muslim American families are divided not only by cultural considerations, but also live simultaneously in two worlds: the American world and the Arab and/or Muslim world. This is particularly true among women who spend most of the time at home connected to Arab and Muslim satellite channels that bring news and TV series from their homeland. They also frequently attend Arab and/or Muslim community centers where they talk about family and social issues. Many families spend much of their financial and emotional energy in an annual trip to visit the family of origin back home. Over the year, they save money and buy gifts to show their love and success.

The inner world of each family member is divided differently. Women are more attached to the culture back home and come into communication with U.S. culture mainly as consumers. Men tend to become assimilated to the U.S. business world and worry about their wives and daughters being influenced by Western permissive life and values. Children attending public schools are motivated to assimilate into American youth culture in order to be accepted by their peers and avoid looking or acting strangely. Arab and/or Muslim families are thus divided by and struggle with all of these issues.

Question:

What are some of the common problems that might bring members of your community into treatment?

Dwairy:

All psychological disorders are found among Arabs and/or Muslim people, but their clinical pictures may be different from what is described in Western psychopathology texts. For instance, depression, which is considered a mood disorder in the West, may appear among Arab and/or Muslims with only somatic complaints, such as pain or fatigue, but without any major depressive mood or sadness. Many problems and psychological symptoms can be understood as the result of bicultural conflicts within the family or as a consequence of the immigration process. Psychotic symptoms often appear mixed with symptoms of dissociation, where unaccepted drives are projected on an external entity such as “voices,” bad Jin, or thoughts placed in one’s head by Satan. Because Islam calls people to pray five times a day and follow strict rituals of prayer and ablution, anxiety and OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder) symptoms are frequently colored by religious ideas related to purification and negative thought, called Waswas, associated with Satan. At that same time, many symptoms or states, considered abnormal in the West, are not considered as a problem among Arab and/or Muslims. For instance, what is called dependent personality disorder in the DSM-5 may be considered normal for Arab and/or Muslims, especially among women. Many sexual dysfunctions, such as premature ejaculation in men or sexual arousal problems of women, are not considered problems in need of treatment.

Because of the stresses of immigration, many couples cannot tolerate their marital problems. Therefore, some may seek marriage, couple, or family counseling to restore their marriages and family relations. Depression or anxiety among women may be associated with loneliness and homesickness, the burden of home and children, or dissatisfaction with their husband’s absence. Emotional problems among youth are often associated with over-control by their parents. Based on research I conducted in eight Arab countries, authoritarian parenting is not associated with psychological disorders among Arab youth. This finding contradicts other findings in the West that link authoritarian parenting with youth dysfunction. My explanation of this contradiction is that authoritarian parenting may hurt the psychological well-being of children within a liberal and individualistic cultural atmosphere, such as in the West, but it does not seem to cause similar damage within a collectivistic, authoritarian culture such as exists within the Arab world. In the United States, immigrant parents continue to try to exert control over their children who are now being exposed to liberal climate and child-rearing of their peers. Many Arab and/or Muslim parents are confused and fearful of losing their control over their children—afraid of the “deviant” behavior they are seeing in their children. This may motivate some parents to seek help in counseling or therapy.

Question:

In carrying out an assessment of an Arab or Muslim American client, what factors are most important to attend to?

Dwairy:

Unlike general Western theories of psychopathology that attribute disorders to intra-psychic processes—such as conflicts, irrational or dysfunctional thoughts, or distortion of the self—the main distresses and conflicts of Arab and/or Muslim clients are associated with intrafamilial conflicts and problems in dealing with social expectations and norms. Before pursuing any intervention with such clients, the clinician must assess the balance between the conflicting parties; that is, the client and their family. Understanding this balance is crucial in helping the client fulfill their needs, become appropriately assertive, and assess in advance how best to bring about such a change given what the family can functionally tolerate. It is necessary to first ensure that the family will be able to absorb the changes and that the client can reach an acceptable level of individuation as well as possesses the strength to do so and face the pressure of the family. To accomplish this, I suggest—before any intervention—an assessment of three main factors: the client’s level of individuation, ego strength, and the family’s level of strictness.

Individuation concerns attitudes toward individualistic values that differ among Arab and/or Muslims. Some clients (such as students studying in the United States) have already developed relatively individuated, autonomous personalities and identities, while others (such as more traditional housewives) are more likely to have retained collective values and dependent personalities. What we must find out is to what extent and how the attitudes, motives, and values of each differ from those of their family. This can be done through questionnaires or an interview. In both, the client is asked to describe their attitudes, motives, and values concerning various life areas, such as gender roles, freedom of personal choice, and religion, and to compare these with where their family stands on each issue. From this, one can begin to assess where discrepancies exist.

Ego strength is imperative because self-fulfillment and assertiveness are not easily accepted in collective societies, such qualities are likely to generate conflicts within the family. Therapists need to make sure, before beginning any counseling, that the client has enough personal strength to withstand the conflicts that are likely to occur. Otherwise, the effort is likely to be counterproductive and perhaps even cause more oppression and distress.

Family strictness can be subjective since some families are just too strict and not ready to accept any change in their lifestyle, norms, and values, while others are more open to change. Readiness for change is an important factor in determining what goals can be set for the intervention. Within strict families, goals should be adaptive within the family structure and norms. In cases of extreme abuse, the client should receive support and protection, and if this cannot be accomplished, then temporarily move away from the family. With more flexible families, family therapy can be helpful in creating new familial structures so as to enable the client to have more freedom of choice within the family system. The more individuated and stronger the client and the more open and flexible the family, the more likely it will be to help the client fulfill herself. When the client possesses little individuation and lacks ego strength and the family is strict, such direct therapy should be avoided. Instead, interventions should help the client better adapt to the family system as it exists—through behavior therapy, relaxation training, and culturally sensitive indirect methods such as metaphor therapy, or what I call “culture-analysis.”

Question:

What do you mean by indirect interventions?

Dwairy:

It refers to therapy that deals with intra-psychic conflicts without bringing unconscious content—that is, typically forbidden in collective family systems—to consciousness. Prematurely introducing such content is likely to create counterproductive confrontations between this kind of client and their family. In what I call indirect methods, such as art therapy and bibliotherapy, clients can begin to address their conflicts symbolically through colors and shapes or with the use of stories, tales, and myths. The use of such metaphors is particularly suited to Arabs and/or Muslims since the Arabic language and the Arab mind are especially attuned to metaphors. Typically, clients tend to describe their problems in the same manner, and this invites the therapist to also work in a metaphoric mode.

A phrase such as “my heart is burned,” which expresses depression, may be utilized in repeated artwork or creative writing that allows change without bringing unconscious and forbidden content to consciousness. With such a client, the therapist may encourage her to draw, for instance, a picture of how she imagines her heart burning and then encourage her to be creative and develop another picture in a way that feels better to her. The client may work on changing the colors or removing some elements or adding some others to the picture. I find that such metaphoric work goes very deep, feels very real, and impacts psychological, body, and interpersonal experiences. Working on problems metaphorically and coming to metaphoric or imaginative solutions will also avoid counterproductive confrontation with the family but still have deep impact on the entire bio-psycho-social system. Another client who described his experience as a “boiling steam pot” and worked creatively on lowering the fire, adding water to cool it, moving it away from the fire, and opening a valve, felt better as a result of this work. He learned practical solutions by working with metaphoric ones. For example, he began to take daily walks for about an hour away from his family when he felt oppressed.

As to culture-analysis, it is a term I coined for work that precedes psychological analysis or in some cases avoids confrontations that may be generated in the family when forbidden content is brought to consciousness. In such therapy, instead of digging deep to reveal unconscious content, such as sexual or aggressive attitudes toward parents, therapists explore the client’s belief system in order to reveal hidden values that may be useful in facilitating change. It is based on the assumption that every believe system or culture has many inner inconsistencies. Many times, this is reflected in contradictory proverbs. For instance, some proverbs in Arabic encourage the client to hurry and others to slow down; some suggest seeking help from people and others warn against it. Such opposing attitudes can be used and applied to facilitate therapeutic change. For instance, in Islam, one may find Quraan verses that call for strictness and fanaticism and others that call for diversity, tolerance, and respect for women. One of my religious, depressive clients attributed his negative experiences to his belief that God did not love him. He tried hard to fulfill all the religious obligations to please God—but with no success. I suggested that the basis of all religion is to appreciate the grace of God, even before fulfilling any formal obligation. In his religious belief system, this appreciation had been overlooked and forgotten. Once he realized this, he was able to think positively about all he had in his life and to minimize his bitterness over what he did not have. To apply culture-analysis, therapists must learn about their clients’ culture but not necessarily become experts. Sometimes, therapists can consult religious or culture experts to find such alternative attitudes or references. Or they may ask their client to seek advice from religious leaders.

In culture-analysis, we work with the client’s belief system in order to highlight new values and beliefs that can facilitate change. Sometimes this analysis is sufficient to bring relief, and at other times, it serves to “pave the road” to bringing out unconscious and formerly forbidden content that can be integrated in the client’s consciousness. For instance, when one of my female clients became aware of values of equality between men and women in Islam, she became more aware of her own sexuality and felt more able to allow herself to challenge the strict attitudes toward sexuality of the world in which she lived.

Question:

What suggestions do you have for developing rapport with members of your community, and are there therapeutic styles with which Arab and Muslim American clients are most comfortable?

Dwairy:

The Arab and/or Muslim American family tends to be more authoritarian with clear power distances between its members. Typically, husbands and fathers are recognized as the authorities within the family while wives and children are expected to respect this structure. I generally have found that, in the United States, such authority is often eventually challenged among immigrant families, and as a result, husbands and fathers feel threatened with a loss of status and authority. I do not think it wise for therapy to challenge this threat. Rather, I suggest that therapists find ways to join with that authority. Joining means to respect it within certain boundaries. It clearly does not mean neglecting the experience or needs of other family members. But rather listening to these within a recognition and respect for the authoritarian structure of the Arab and/or Muslim families. Challenging the father or husband is likely to lead to the end of therapy and an escalating of conflicts within the family.

Joining with the familial authority may be best accomplished by inquiring about and listening to the concerns of the figures of authority and acknowledging their help. This may include appreciating the father’s efforts in accompanying his wife or children in seeking help despite the stigma associated with it; by making him feel needed in the therapeutic process and that his support in crucial to the process; by listening to his experience of what has been going on in the family; and by expressing genuine desire to learn from him about how “his people think.” Successfully joining with the familial authority is frequently the first step on the way to change. In most cases, I do not think that therapy can successfully proceed without it.

I typically interview parents and children together in our intake meeting. This allows the children to see me listening to their parents with respect without taking their side and allows their parents to see me talking with the children without judgment. After listening to the various perspectives of all sides, I next facilitate a discussion about how things are done in the family to better understand and assess their levels of individuation, ego strength, and family strictness. This assessment may continue in separate meetings with parents and children or husband and wife. Empathy and acceptance of the authoritarian structure of collective cultures and a readiness to understand and learn about the client’s lifestyle as it currently exists is a crucial first step in building rapport and assessing the family’s flexibility in order to plan an appropriate intervention.

Question:

Lastly, could you present a typical case to give us a sense of how some of these various factors come together in treatment?

Dwairy:

A married Arab Muslim woman, twenty-three years old, who lived in one of the Arab villages in Israel, had experienced a panic attack after one month of studying education at a university in a large Israeli city. This experience had been her first exposure to the freedom of student life. Her first attack occurred while she was sitting with other students in the cafeteria. Subsequent attacks had come in class, in the library, and other university settings. She was now afraid to go back to the university.

She came to my clinic with her husband, who was a high school teacher. I interviewed them together. She described in detail her experience of the panic attacks, her fears of returning to the university, and other concerns. The husband seemed reserved and wanted her to abandon her university work and rest up at home. I asked him to “help me understand her problem.” He said he had not been supportive of her choice to go to college. He believed his wife should be home taking care of the house and children. He eventually submitted to her insistence that she stay in the university, but only after she promised to limit her time there and focus only on learning and not to spend time with other students, especially males. I encouraged him to explain to me his worries about his wife spending time with other students. For several minutes, he explained to me that such behavior was not accepted according to his family tradition and Islamic values. I was empathic and respectful of his values and expressed appreciation for his readiness to consider allowing her to stay in school in spite of his worries. He was touched by this and went on to explain how much he loves her and was ready to do “anything that might help her.” At this point, he agreed to allow me to work with her on her panic disorder and discuss what was “best for her.”

During our meetings, she told me she had been raised in a religious family. She was a good student and had wished since she was a child to study at the university. Her family had arranged a marriage for her when she became twenty-one years old. She could not refuse. Her new husband promised her he would not forbid her from studying at the university. She was happy to begin studying and become a part of the student social life. This experience was quite new to her after spending most of her life in a traditional village with a religious family that allowed no experience with boys. The first panic attack occurred when she was sitting with male and female students and had skipped her class. It eventually became clear to me that she was experiencing conflict between her attraction to the social life of students and feeling fearful and guilty because of her husband and family’s attitude about such behavior.

Based on her narrative, I learned that she continued to be emotionally dependent upon her family and did not have the ego strength to confront their very strict and traditional norms and values. Based on this assessment, I realized that helping her explore her need to spend time with boys and girls at the university would be counterproductive. She was trapped not only by her obligations to her husband and family, but also by her own traditional belief system. During her narrative, she had made several references to an Islamic religious maxim: “When a man and woman meet together, the Devil is the third party with them” (Itha Igtama’a rajul wamra’a kan alshaytan thalethhuma). Based on my model of culture-analysis, I decided to challenge this belief and brought to her attention another Islamic idea: “Doings are dependent on intentions” (Inama ala’a’mal benneyat), implying that it is not the meeting between a man and a woman that is sinful but rather their intentions. She did not respond well to this type of intervention. I decided instead to try a technique from metaphor therapy in which I asked her to describe her problem metaphorically. She said it is like “climbing a high tree,” which she described as “scary and dangerous.” I asked her how she might be able to make this experience less scary. She said she could be very careful, not go too high, and make use of climbing apparatuses, such as ropes and a safety net. I encouraged her to describe the scene and experience it in her imagination. I asked her to again imagine this metaphor and see if she could allow it to make her calm. Before ending that session, I asked her to think about what she learned from this metaphoric process. At the next session, she came wearing a scarf hijab on her head and told me she had made up her mind to change to a college in a nearby Arabic city. She said, “When I am within an Arab college with a scarf on my head and Qur’an in my bag, I feel safe and able to fulfill my wish to study and be together with Arab students.”

This short description of a case exemplifies the process of joining with the family system—in this case, the husband—and how I avoided encouraging her to fulfill forbidden wishes in light of an assessment of her level of individuation, ego strength, and family strictness. Therapy that encourages acting upon forbidden needs and wishes is not productive with such clients. This became clear when the culture-analysis helped her to realize her own Islamic attitudes did not allow her to accept these forbidden needs. Metaphoric work brought forth a solution that acknowledged her Islamic values and at the same time allowed her to spend time with young men and women. Metaphor therapy helped her consider and find a solution she could live with.

Working with South Asian American Clients: An Interview with Sumana Kaipa

16-1Demographics

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According to the 2010 Census, South Asian Indians have become the second-largest Asian group in the United States after the Chinese, overtaking the Filipinos, who previously held that position. The South Asian Indian population grew from almost 1.7 million in 2000 (0.6 percent of the U.S. population) to over 2.8 million in 2010 (0.9 percent of the U.S. population): a staggering growth rate of 69.4 percent, making them one of the fastest-growing ethnic groups in the United States, second only to Hispanic Americans.

Geographically, early immigration centered South Indian Asian populations on the East Coast of the United States, especially in the states of New York and Florida. More recently, however, immigration trends have favored California as a destination, with significant populations in Chicago and Houston as well. A likely explanation for this shift is greater job and educational opportunities. But this depends somewhat on generation. Earlier generations took any jobs they could get, while more recent generations (and especially tech employees) emigrated to cities where there were large tech industries. Those of lower economic status tended to end up in cities where they had families with established businesses, such as liquor stores, and taxicabs.

These facts are reflected in economics statistics such as how South Asian Indians have continued to outpace most other ethnic groups socioeconomically. For example, 67 percent of all South Asian Indians have earned bachelor degrees or higher, compared to 44 percent for all other Asian American groups collectively. In addition, almost 40 percent have masters, doctorates, or professional degrees—five times the national average for all Americans. While Friedman (2006) attributes these statistics to a “brain drain,” with the brightest and best in India emigrating to the United States for greater financial and job opportunities, more recent statistics seem to show that increasingly such people are staying in India because of the American outsourcing phenomenon.

By the beginning of the twentieth century, several thousand South Asian Indians, primarily male Sikhs from the Punjab region, had settled on the west coast of America, working in manual labor in the fields and construction. Many joined the Chinese in 1907 in building the Western Pacific Railroad in California and other railroad projects. Between 1910 and 1920, many turned to the agricultural opportunities that were becoming abundant in California. At about the same time, strong anti-immigrant sentiments grew. These in turn led to violence against South Asian Indians, much of it displaced from the large numbers of Chinese and Japanese workers already present, and in time, anti-immigration laws were passed in 1913, 1917, and 1923. The latter was of special significance because it included anti-miscegenation provisions that prevented Sikhs from marrying anyone who was not their same color. As a consequence, many intermarried with the Mexican or Mexican America populations, with a substantial hybrid Mexican-Sikhs community still in existence near Yuba City, California.

The Luce-Celler Act of Congress in 1946 restored naturalization rights for South Asian Indians in the United States. The first major wave of immigration occurred in 1965, and those who came were very different from their working-class predecessors. The majority lived in cities, were professionals, and were highly educated. There were those, however, who chose more rural areas of Georgia, Arkansas, and Texas to fill a need for rural doctors and educators. It is estimated that over 100,000 individuals and families entered the United States during the decade that followed. Of this population, almost 40 percent were students and visitors with exchange visas. The majority pursued graduate-level education, found jobs, and became permanent residents.

A second wave of immigrants followed. Often, they were relatives of the first wave, but they represented a far different demographic. Generally, without formal education, they tended to be merchants who ran small businesses or those who worked in them: restaurants, groceries, liquor stores, motels, and other small service providers. Members of this second wave generally found themselves drawn to ethnic enclaves in close proximity to other South Asian Indians, carrying on historic values and traditions, while members of the first wave and those who were better educated tended to become more acculturated, adopt nuclear family structures, and had greater professional freedom to live and seek jobs in non-urban or ethnic enclave areas. The smaller population numbers and isolation in suburbia made the passing on of culture and cultural values increasingly difficult, as their children were exposed to alien ways and mainstream American culture. For both, however, acculturation proved to be a major issue and challenge.

16-2Acculturation

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For Asian Indian families in the United States, acculturation varied due to a variety of factors: education, class, caste, family size, economic support, connection to traditional culture, degree of religiosity, and migration history. Generally, however, it tended to increase with subsequent generations in America. Consider, for example, the following differences between first and second generations in their patterns of acculturation (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indian_American, 2011).

First-generation Indian-Americans were acutely aware of readily apparent cultural differences. The family became a battlefield where modernity clashed with tradition, where Indian culture clashed with American culture, and where theory clashed with practice. American culture became the basis for interactions outside the home. Inside the home, first-generation Indian-Americans attempted to preserve their cultural and religious heritage and expected to live according to Indian cultural values. Women maintained the household (cooking, cleaning, childrearing, etc.) in addition to holding part-time or even full-time jobs. They were also the first generation of women to benefit from mandated education in America.

For second-generation Indian Americans, the sensation of being the in-betweens was particularly accentuated. Like their parents, the second-generation Indian American compartmentalized their lives. At home and within the local community component, they were governed by the compromised Indian lifestyle developed by their parents and the broader community. Conflicts typically arose from the cultural clash of American individualism versus Indian communitarianism. For example, a second-generation Indian American’s desire to pursue an undergraduate degree in the fine arts would not be supported by the family. Career decisions were based on their impact on the family’s financial well-being, not the individual’s (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indian_American, 2011).

16-2aFamily Organization and Values

Although India includes a wide range of cultures, Hindu values tend to be pervasive and define traditional family structures and communal life. According to Das and Kemp (1997), an Indian family generally refers to a “large, flexible, and fluid entity encompassing several households … that may be scattered over different geographical regions but composed of members who think of themselves as one.” Hindu culture emphasizes the “sacredness of life” and the “dharma,” which is the living of life according to certain prescribed rules of correct conduct and hierarchy within the family based on age, gender, birth order, and marital status. The dharma of each member is fixed and defined specifically by kinship ties, as well as that person’s stage in the life cycle. The individual is expected to sacrifice personal desires when they conflict with one’s dharma within the family. Failure to make the appropriate sacrifice is seen as bringing hardship, as well as shame and possibly ostracism, upon the entire family. Enormous attention is paid to attending to and fulfilling the dharma appropriate to a given time and place in one’s life cycle. And complex rituals mark various life milestones, from birth into marriage, parenthood, loss of family members, and death. According to Almeida (2005):

Indians believe in connectedness of all living things and in immortality maintained by reincarnation. This belief is reflected in the notion that when we die, the soul is born again into another human being or animal. Thus, patience and compassion toward all beings and the universe are essential human qualities. These values are embodied in the concepts of karma (destiny), caste (a hierarchy organization of human beings), and dharma (living life in accordance with the principles that order the universe), essential ideas for understanding the worldview of Asian Indian families, whether they are Hindu, Christian, Muslim, or Parsi. (p. 383)

South Asian Indian families generally adopt nuclear family structures in the United States, but it is not uncommon for extended family, especially grandparents, to visit or reside with the family for long periods. It is also typical for established families to encourage relatives in India to emigrate to America and provide them support until they have established themselves there. Families are very close-knit and feel strong obligations of responsibility to each other, especially in situations of financial need. As a consequence, one finds few South Asian Indians seeking public aid or assistance, with the exception of some elderly receiving disability benefits.

Traditionally, South Asian Indian parents arrange marriages and select partners for their children from within the larger ethnic enclave and with the consent of both families. Selecting a suitable mate is serious business. Potential partners are fully examined and vetted—in relation to education, family, and status—by family and close community friends before the two young people even meet. It is a strong cultural belief that similarities in traditions, social customs, and background make for the happiest and most stable marriages, and in turn create cultural continuity. Marrying outside the group was generally frowned upon, but with assimilation and acculturation, much of this has softened, with dating before marriage increasingly commonplace, as are interracial/intercultural marriages among the second and third generations.

Historically, gender roles were rigid, highly prescribed, and generally intolerant of women. Women were expected to marry early and produce sons. When families did educate their daughters, it was usually with the goal of making them more marketable as brides, as opposed to any commitment to their personal development. But such patterns have changed over time in India, just as they have in the United States. Beginning with those born in the 1950s, Indian women have gotten educations to prepare to support themselves as well as their families should they not marry, or to have a “fallback plan” should something happen to their marriages.

Finally, Almeida (2005) offers the following observations about the challenges of parenting among South Asian Indian parents:

Parenting for most mainstream Americans is complex, given the current context of violence in schools and little to no support for mothers in the workforce. Added to these stressors for Indian parents is their desire to maintain traditional family patterns while upholding high expectations for their children. Lack of knowledge about developmental changes as they pertain to setting limits, for a child, differentiating between the positive and the harmful sources of information gathered from the Internet, music, TV, and the like, and the various ways in which children can socialize (sports for girls, sleepovers for all children) are among the many challenges they face. “Philosophical talks” are favored over behavioral consequences. Because of the collective psychology, single interventions such as time-out procedures, or rewards for positive behaviors, are not consistent with cultural or family values. (pp. 387–388)

A final concern for South Asian Indian families is the discrimination that has been on the rise over the last decade. While there is a long and persistent history of “Indophobia” in the United States that periodically emerges, two patterns are of more recent vintage. The first is the paranoia and racial discrimination directed against South Asian Indians, who have been blamed for the practice of U.S. companies outsourcing and offshoring white-collar labor to India. The second involves post–September 11, 2001 attacks on South Asian Indians who were mistaken targets for hate crimes against Muslims. In one example, a South Asian Indian man was killed in a Phoenix gas station by a white racist who claimed that the victim’s turban made him think he was a Middle Easterner. More recently, another white supremacist killed six people in a 2012 Sikh temple shooting in Oak Creek, Wisconsin. It is little wonder that South Asian Indian parents fear for their children’s safety whenever they are away from home. Chapter 4 explores racism and prejudice with regard to the South Asian American population in greater detail—providing examples of how South Asian American’s are or were treated.

We shall now turn to our guest expert Sumana Kaipa, who will broaden our focus to include the full array of South Asian groups and explore in depth their cultural tendencies, mental health needs, and optimal ways of approaching them as clients.

16-3Our Interviewee

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Sumana Kaipa earned a bachelor’s degree from the University of California at Berkeley, a master of fine arts degree (poetry) from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, and a doctoral degree in psychology (PsyD) from the Wright Institute in Berkeley, California. Since 2004, she has provided individual, couples, family, and group psychotherapy to children, adolescents, and adults across the age spectrum. In her internship and postdoctoral training at the Kaiser Permanente Medical Centers, she specialized in the practice of neuropsychological assessment. Currently, Dr. Kaipa is the training director for the Wright Institute Assessment Service, where she teaches and supervises Wright Institute doctoral students in providing neuropsychological evaluations; and the Wright Institute Sanctuary Project, in which students provide psychodiagnostic evaluations for asylum seekers. Kaipa is also a writer and co-edited Indivisible: An Anthology of South Asian American Poetry (University of Arkansas Press, 2010).

16-3aThe Interview

Question:

First, could you begin by talking about your ethnic background and how it has led you to become a human service provider and impacted your work?

Kaipa:

I am a 43-year-old female, who identifies as an Indian American and, in a larger sense, as a South Asian American. My family is from the state of Andhra Pradesh in India, and my parents immigrated to the United States in 1973, two years prior to my birth. My parents were part of a wave of educated Indian professionals who entered the country at a time of financial opportunities, and this perfect confluence largely yielded economic successes for this group. Yet, success in America came with overt and covert discrimination as well as the uncertainty of raising children in a new place, where the culture differed dramatically from their own. To a lesser degree, frictions between American and Indian values presented themselves in my childhood when I wished to dress and act more American than my parents would have liked. Or, conversely, when I wished to retain my Indian identity but at times felt ashamed to do so in the presence of American peers.

The differences only grew greater as I negotiated the struggles of early adulthood—determining my career path and finding a life partner. I did things that no “good Indian girl” was supposed to do. In college, I stopped taking pre-med courses and opted for a very impractical master’s degree in creative writing. (I told my father I’d rather be a poet than a doctor, which I think might be almost every immigrant father’s nightmare.) I lived in a bohemian alley of San Francisco without a clear path for financial success or independence and rejected attempts to be set up with suitable Indian partners.

As I think back on the struggles we faced together, I have tremendous empathy for my mother and father. They were hard-working immigrants who strongly believed in giving their children a better framework for success than they had been given. The trouble was, their idea of success was limited, constricting, and quite prescriptive. They wanted their daughter to “fit in” with the other second-generation Indian children, and this meant to be a professional (or at least married to one) with limitless earning capacity and a large home in a nice, suburban cul-de-sac. This wasn’t my vision of achievement or comfort, so my response had been to make a radical departure from their expectations; it was the only way I felt I could “individuate.” Furthermore, I think my parents and I were both confused about how acculturated to American norms I had become, and this was threatening to our relationship. I was keeping parts of myself that I thought would not conform to Indian values away from my parents for fear of rejection and disapproval. As a result, I felt I was living a fractured life.

My process of healing had much to do with coming to terms with aspects of my identity and integrating these parts in a way that was less compartmentalized, less secretive, and more whole. Though I know now that there were and are many other South Asian Americans going through the same process that I went through, I felt very alone at the time. I don’t know what I would have done if I had not had my brother, who lent perspective to my parents’ quirks and kept me sane in the process.

Though sometimes I regret having had to take such a difficult and anxiety-provoking journey in order to arrive at the place I am now; without it, I don’t think I would have ever become a psychologist. It was my own experience that led me to feel that South Asian American providers were needed to lend understanding and support to this community, and it is my hope that more and diverse providers of South Asian American descent will build understanding of South Asian American clients and de-stigmatize mental health issues and seeking of services among this community. In my own journey of cross-cultural work, I’ve also discovered that being of the same cultural background as your client is not necessarily the only or most important factor in help and healing. As much as cultural and identity struggles are specific to the client, there is frequently the universal experiences of feeling different, alone, and rejected. An informed and open-minded human service provider, who seeks to understand a client’s problems from the client’s perspective, is in all likelihood more important than a culturally matched client-therapist relationship.

Question:

How would you define South Asian Americans as a group, and what characteristics do they share?

Kaipa:

First, I’d like to share that my particular ethnic identity (within the larger subcategory of South Asians) influences how I might present information about South Asians. I would like anyone who may be reading this interview to know that as an Indian, I represent one of the larger, dominant groups in South Asia. As such, I have more experiential knowledge and understanding of my subgroup in contrast to some of the others groups that are also South Asian. And although I am familiar with many of the cultural groups that are represented by the term “South Asian Americans,” I am certain that I do not have the experiential knowledge of all peoples who comprise this group.

I give this caveat because  South Asian Americans  are an incredibly diverse group. Geographically, individuals who identify as South Asian typically come from the current countries of Bangladesh, Bhutan, India, the Maldives, Nepal, Pakistan, and Sri Lanka. But even this definition is up for dispute, as individuals from the present Afghanistan, Iran, Burma, and Bhutan are sometimes (and sometimes not) self-identified or identified by others as belonging to South Asia. Historically, some of these countries have had very fluid borders or were not considered separate countries until more recently, further complicating how individuals identify themselves. For instance, India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh were all considered part of one country until 1947, and some individuals and families may hold onto their identity with the former country, India, or with the region (Punjab) and not the country. Additionally, some groups, due to political or religious reasons, have immigrated to other parts of South Asia and have then become biculturally identified, such as the Tibetan population who now live in Nepal and India. Many of the countries of South Asia were at one time under the rule of European colonialism beginning in the 16th century and terminating in the 20th century, predominantly by the British, Dutch, Portuguese, and the French.

Among and within the countries in South Asia, there is extraordinary diversity with respect to religion, language, and customs. The region contains almost all the major religions of the world (as well as the various sects of these religions): Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, Jainism, Judaism, and Sikhism. Several of the countries of South Asia are strongly identified with a particular religion, and religious differences between countries or among individuals living within the countries can at times be a source of tension or conflict between members of different South Asian groups. One example is the tension between those of Hindu and Islamic faith in the region, and these differences and enmities sometimes persist even after immigrating. Another aspect of religious difference among some South Asian communities, such as Hindus, is that they subscribe to a caste system, in which a person’s social position and status in a community is defined by birthright. Historically, caste has been an extremely oppressive tool that has kept many people poverty-stricken and socially ostracized. (When visiting India as a child, I remember that we were still not allowed to touch the lowest caste of people, who were known as “untouchables,” nor were they allowed to enter my family’s home. If my family had to interface an untouchable, the exchanges took place at the door.) Today, the caste system continues to persist, but its effect differs greatly depending upon the region and community in which it is practiced. In urban centers of India, for instance, people are likely to ascribe less importance to caste, and there are likely more opportunities for lower caste individuals to change their situation while in some rural areas where a community’s views have not changed for many years, people of low caste status are likely to be treated very poorly and experience significant discrimination. Due to poor economic circumstances in South Asia that make it very hard, if not impossible, to immigrate, there are not many people from lower castes in the United States. There is no denying that caste is horrible, but its foreignness makes it an easy target to criticize by those who aren’t familiar with how it operates. Though certainly not perfect, I think sexism in American society is a good analogy to discrimination based on caste. Like sexism, castism continues to persist, even as it improves, because it takes its power from both oppression from the dominant group as well as buy-in from members of all castes in order to give meaning to and perpetuate the system.

The most widely spoken languages are Hindi, Bengali, and Urdu, but many other languages are spoken throughout the region. In India alone, there are 16 major languages and over 200 additional dialects. Also, a number of people in South Asia (particularly those who are of a higher socioeconomic status or living in urban areas) are conversant or fluent in English, which became a key language in this region due to British colonialism. In some regions, language can be a very strong indicator of tribal identity (such as Pashto in Afghanistan), in other areas it may indicate a religious affiliation (such as Urdu in Pakistan and India), and for others, language may be an important part of familial lineage despite where the person or family may reside (identifying as Tamil despite living in the English and Hindi dominated city of Bombay). Another thing that might be important to know is that many people from South Asia speak multiple languages because they frequently need to know the more dominant languages of industry or commerce (English, Bengali, Urdu, and Hindi), may also need to know the language of a nearby area (where an entirely different language is spoken), and also wish to retain their family’s traditional language.

Finally, the immigration path that various groups took before coming to the United States defines and shapes this population, too. The history of European colonialism in this area, particularly British colonization, led many South Asians to spread to different corners of the earth, especially in the late nineteenth and throughout the twentieth century, when many of the countries of South Asia were under British rule. Several groups first immigrated to the United Kingdom, Fiji, Kenya, Tanzania, South Africa, Guyana, Mauritius, and Trinidad and Tobago before coming to the United States. Where they went and under what circumstances they immigrated, how they acculturated to the places that they settled, and how they made their journey to the United States become an important part of their cultural identity. As an example, during British colonization, many Indians were taken as indentured servants to the Fiji Islands, and the descendants of these individuals who have retained some aspects of their Indian culture but have also, over several generations, acculturated to the Fijian way of life. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, some Fijian Indians fled Fiji due to political conflicts and settled in the United States. Thus, you have Indian-identified individuals living in the United States with very different cultural backgrounds, values, and immigration experiences.

After describing all the differences, one might wonder what similarities these disparate groups share. The countries that comprise South Asia did not have the boundaries that they now do, and their histories and ways of life were significantly intertwined, despite the diversity of people in this region. Colonialism, too, affected the collective history of the people of this area, and it also largely shaped the way the region was eventually divided. Though seemingly ephemeral, South Asians share similar ideas around the importance of family and community, especially over the value of the individual. As a result, many of these communities have emphasized family name, family pride, and family legacy as an important part of their identities. By and large, South Asian families have lived in extended family networks. Such a family structure can be very positive since it can provide strong community support and protect against isolation. Moreover, the elderly have a role in generational family life and are accorded respect.

South Asian family roles can sometimes be perceived as rigid with women having significant domestic and familial responsibilities without the respect and rights accorded to men. With increased education and work outside the home, women’s roles have changed somewhat. There may also be differences between South Asian groups, and some families, regardless of region, may be more conservative or progressive in their views about women. Marriage and children continue to be central to South Asian family structure and because family reputation is important, many South Asian groups strongly discourage dating or premarital sex and still favor arranged marriages over choosing one’s own partner. However, the nature of arranged marriages has changed over time, with some families introducing but not necessarily choosing ideal candidates and women having more of a voice in the arrangement. Nevertheless, women are often not held to the same standards as men with respect to marriage and coupling, in that men may be chastised but likely not ostracized for their sexual conduct (such as premarital sex) and can remarry after a divorce or death of a spouse without criticism from their families or community.

The identity of South Asian Americans takes on a different form as this group negotiates its identity on American soil. In that process, some of the differences between South Asian Americans are minimized, as minor geographical differences (such as coming from different states in the same country) and language differences become less important than sharing similar values and ideas about family and sharing similar interests in food, music, dance, and other cultural practices. Religion, however, appears to be a central facet of identity that persists, especially for the newly immigrated or those in the first generation, while caste, because it is of much less importance in the United States, does not play as large a role as it does in South Asia. Family continues to be a central focus of South Asian American life. More acculturated South Asian American families tend to live in nuclear family arrangements, though they tend to maintain extended family ties to a much greater degree than European Americans. South Asian American families tend not to allow dating and forbid premarital sex, and they focus on finding suitable partnerships for their children, even if such arrangements take place in a more Americanized way, through parental introductions and possibly even “dating” of acceptable matches. As in South Asia, parents also tend to encourage or even choose professions for their children as a way to secure their financial future and to ensure good reputations in the community. The extent to which this group maintains their cultural affiliation and follows the patterns that I’ve discussed here depends largely on the amount of time a family has spent in the United States, as well as how long it has been since the family lived in South Asia. In the case of Indians who lived outside of South Asia prior to immigrating to the United States, they are more likely to have also adopted the cultural values of the various countries in which they have lived. Most South Asian communities in the United States are located in California, Texas, Illinois, and New York; and those individuals growing up in areas with fewer South Asian Americans might not follow the same patterns as those in larger or more urban enclaves. In my experience, friends and family members who grew up outside of large South Asian communities reported feeling “different” and became more acculturated to dominant American norms and socialized with non-South Asians while those who had a large community of other South Asians around them were more confident about their cultural identity, even in the face of discrimination, and were more likely to socialize predominantly with other South Asians.

Question:

Could you now talk about the various names that different South Asian American subgroups use to describe and identify themselves?

Kaipa:

Not surprisingly, a group of individuals with a complex, multi-pronged identity don’t agree on descriptions for themselves. Some individuals from this region might refer to the particular country or countries from where their families come, such as preferring to call themselves Pakistanis or Burmese. Individuals may also identify themselves by region, tribe, or caste, such as calling themselves “Telugu,” “Pashto,” or “Brahmin.” More acculturated individuals, particularly those who have lived in the United States for a longer period of time or who were born in the United States, are likely to identify themselves with both their familial country of origin as well as “American”; i.e., “Pakistani American” or “Sri Lankan American.” Some individuals might identify along religious lines, such as calling themselves “Muslim Americans” or “American Muslims.” Some individuals reject the term South Asian altogether, finding it too broad or not wishing to be grouped with communities with which they do not wish to affiliate, such as Indians and Pakistanis wishing to distinguish themselves from one another due to political and religious animosities.

Acculturation plays a role in using the term South Asian, too. One reason for this might be that the more American-identified individuals become, the more likely they are to feel that they are treated similarly in the face of dominant American society, who may make erroneous assumptions about their identity based on the way that they look (such as believing Sikhs are the same as Muslims). Experience of discrimination or oppression by the dominant group may fuel a sense of solidarity among more acculturated South Asians, who then feel, regardless of their various self-identifications, that they are a part of a group of South Asian Americans.

Finally, if things weren’t already confusing, individuals from this community aren’t likely to be terribly uniform in their descriptions of themselves, calling themselves different things in different contexts or communities. For instance, I identify as (sometimes in this order and sometimes not) Telugu, Indian, Hindu, American, South Asian American, and Californian (and probably more things that I can’t think of right now), and these identities become more or less prominent or important depending upon who I’m with and what their group affiliation or experience is. There are also subdivisions within these identities (i.e. different kinds of Telugu people or Californians), so you can see how it can get pretty complicated.

Question:

Could you describe some of the shared history that South Asian Americans bring with them to the United States? Could you give us a nutshell version of historical events of which a provider should be aware?

Kaipa:

Prior to 1965, the few South Asian immigrants who came to the United States did so for circumscribed educational opportunities (under a specified student visa) or were recruited as laborers, such as men who came to the United States in the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century to work in logging, mining, construction of railroads, and agriculture in the Pacific Northwest and California.

However, the bulk of South Asian immigration to the United States took place after the Immigration and Nationality Act of 1965, which loosened the restrictions placed on immigrants from non-European countries. This legislation was also instrumental in allowing families with United States citizenship or legal status to sponsor family members for permanent residency. While the initial group of immigrants that came in the late 1960s and throughout the 1970s was comprised of more educated professionals (e.g., doctors, engineers, scientists, etc.), the families that they sponsored frequently did not have the educational attainment and, as such, were employed in businesses such as the running of restaurants, hotels, and convenience stores. In contrast to the class of educated professionals, this latter group of less educated individuals have been more likely to live in a less nuclear, more extended family arrangement where they socialize exclusively with South Asians and frequently remain less acculturated to American culture.

Restrictions on immigration were reinstated in the early 1990s, when limits on the annual number of immigrants were once again instituted and reasons for immigration were more strictly limited to family reunification or the need for specific classes of workers. For instance, several Indians who came in the 1990s did so under work visas to fill the need for employees trained in informational technology, but some of these populations left the United States after being laid off and returned to their respective countries.

On the one hand, more recent immigrants have benefited from coming to the United States at a time when the South Asian American community is larger and, thus, they have more opportunities to socialize with others from their culture and maintain cultural ties. For example, South Asian Americans have the opportunity to take classes in order to learn their family language, classical dance, or music from their cultural tradition, have more exposure to food and popular media from their family’s cultural background, and can practice in an established religious community (such as a mosque or temple). South Asian Americans are also a more visible community, appearing much more regularly in media, and there are now examples of successful South Asian American politicians, actors, writers, and scientists. The events of September 11, 2001, on the other hand, were a significant setback to South Asian Americans, many of whom experienced racial, ethnic, and religious discrimination; were victims of hate crimes associated with the anti-Muslim, anti-brown person backlash that resulted from the attacks; or experienced significant fear that they might be targeted or perceived as being anti-American.

Question:

Let’s switch our focus and begin to look at issues related to providing services to the South Asian American community. Could you talk about factors that influence how South Asian Americans go about seeking help when they have problems?

Kaipa:

As a whole, it is not common for South Asian Americans to seek psychological help. As I mentioned before, South Asian Americans are generally communalist in nature and tend to emphasize the family and community rather than the individual. This arrangement can be supportive as it provides an infrastructure for tending to the welfare of all members of the community as well as a having a closely-knit social network for persons within the community. I remember that in Suketu Mehta’s book, Maximum City, one of the women living in the slums of Bombay said she refused to move to a newly built development that had been constructed to alleviate the problems of slums because she feared that the strong social network of friends and families would be disrupted. Americans, myself included, tend to think of living in too-close-for-comfort situations as stifling and over-stimulating, but for this woman as for many, living in close proximity and with constant socialization is a huge protection against depression and other psychological issues. In my work as a psychologist, I have frequently found that the downside of the more individualistic culture is that elderly people lose relevance and purpose in the culture, and we have little resources or support networks to help care for people as they age. Many of the elderly Americans with whom I have worked are extremely isolated and have had few or no family or friends to turn to as they become infirm, struggle with cognitive problems, or mental health issues.

However, the family-centric orientation can also mean that an individual’s behavior within the community reflects on the family or community as a whole. If the individual is succeeding, it can bring pride and respect to the family. But if the individual is suffering from problems, especially if they are not medical problems, this can become a cause of embarrassment or shame, and the family may deal with this issue by denying or hiding the problem from others. Additionally, when there is dysfunction in a family, such as abuse, the family may discourage or prevent help seeking for fear of the entire family or community being exposed or shamed. Because the family may not acknowledge problems, it may also lead to South Asian Americans to be unable to perceive or understand the psychological difficulties they or others around them are experiencing. The cultural belief that events and circumstances are preordained, or fated, may also make South Asian Americans more likely to believe that outside help cannot change their circumstances.

Another concern South Asian Americans may have is that service providers will not understand their values and their issues. For some, this may be partly a language issue, but for most, it is a question of cultural difference—a concern that Americans or Westerners might judge them without understanding their cultural differences. On several occasions, I have heard my mother or other family members relay horror stories in which children were removed from their parents by a child protection agency due to a cultural disconnect, such as a family co-sleeping rather than using a crib or continuing to [breast]feed their child when older than what is considered normal in American culture. Whether these stories are truth, myth, or something in the middle, they reflect a fear among South Asian Americans that they can be easily misunderstood and that such misunderstandings can have terrifying consequences.

Acculturation is a key factor in whether individuals and families will seek help. Less acculturated South Asian Americans may be referred to therapy or to a psychiatrist through a primary physician who believes there is a mental health or stress-related issue. These individuals are usually unfamiliar with psychological diagnoses, the roles of mental health providers, what types of support or interventions are available, and how to negotiate getting help. More acculturated individuals will be more familiar with Western psychological concepts but may still feel nervous about seeking help, believing that their problems are not worthy of seeking outside help, feeling discomfort or fear in airing family problems, or worrying about being judged by providers who do not understand their particular issues.

Question:

What are some of the common problems that South Asian American clients might bring to you as a counselor? Are any subgroups within the South Asian American community at particular risk for mental health problems?

Kaipa:

Again, level of acculturation strongly affects the sorts of problems that South Asian Americans clients encounter. These individuals may be experiencing significant difficulties in adjusting to the demands of American culture (such as understanding how to find a job, an apartment, or other resources in the United States), difficulty negotiating situations due to poor English language skills, difficulty findings jobs or experiencing financial stresses as a result of caring for multiple families members (and supporting family who remained in the home country), feeling isolated from a community of family and friends, having witnessed or experienced political trauma in their country of origin or being displaced, domestic violence, and alcoholism abuse. It is also possible that the family may bring a loved one with more severe mental illness, such as a schizophrenia or psychosis, to the attention of a psychiatrist. Sexism and issues related to the historical treatment of women often make domestic violence a significant issue in the South Asian American community, and several organizations exist throughout the country to help women in abusive relationships.

Intergenerational misunderstandings and tensions are also likely to be a reason for family problems. Parents might complain, as my parents did, of their children not being compliant or becoming too Americanized in their values; children may complain that parents are too rigid or do not understand their experiences. In adolescence, these problems may manifest more for girls since families are more likely to impose strict restrictions on dating and/or socialization with non-South Asians, and the girls may feel that they cannot fit in with their peer group. Outside of family, South Asian American adolescents may also struggle to fit in with peers or feel stress related to being stereotyped.

Second-generation adults, especially young adults, are likely to seek help for problems related to identity and conflict with parents. They may either feel pressured by their family to make certain professional or partnership choices that don’t feel right to them or, if they did not make the “right” choices (such as marrying interracially or interculturally), feel that that they have failed or disappointed their families. South Asian American families, because of the centrality of a heterosexual marriage and children, may have a lot of trouble understanding and accepting LGBT children, and these individuals may find it very difficult to go through the coming out process or to find a way to fit in with their families, given their sexual orientation

Even when conforming to their family’s ideas of appropriate behavior or success, individuals may still experience stress and difficulties related to their parents or families lacking the ability to understand the cultural terrain that they must negotiate. A South Asian American young woman I saw briefly in therapy struggled with depression related to very high parental expectations about education and achievement. Her family could not understand how her depression affected her academic achievement or her future plans for law school. They also could not see how they might be contributing to the problem by holding her to very high standards, focusing on her failure to get good grades in her final year and trouble studying for the LSAT rather than encouraging her, and imposing restrictions on her behavior that did not exist for her male siblings.

Question:

How do socioeconomic and class issues affect the psychological lives of South Asian Americans? Do class or other socioeconomic issues play any role in these various problems?

Kaipa:

Socioeconomics and class definitely affect South Asians and their problems. Some groups, like my family, had the privilege of immigrating to the United States as professionals (who received a free or very cheap education in South Asia) at a time when America was in need of an immigrant work force, and they came voluntarily to find opportunity. It is likely that these individuals and their children may experience stress related to achievement and financial success, believing strongly in model minority stereotype and thinking that they have failed if they do not achieve as professionals.

But less-educated, poorer communities coming to the United States or individuals seeking refugee status may have felt pressure to move out of their existing circumstances or were displaced, thus coming involuntarily and with fewer resources or means to succeed in a new environment. Those with less education and fewer financial resources are less likely to be able to speak English well in contrast to highly educated counterparts, and these issues affect their ability to get higher-paying jobs as well as how they are perceived by the higher economic classes of South Asian Americans. Many of them find employment in family businesses, like running hotels (including single resident occupancy hotels) or liquor stores, with greater degree of stress related to the threat of being robbed, assaulted, or even killed. Thus, their stressors are more likely to be related to difficulty making ends meet as well as the threat of harm in the workplace.

Question:

Next, let’s talk about some of the factors that you see as important in assessing a South Asian American client. What kind of things would you look for? What kinds of information do you feel it is important to collect from a South Asian American client? What suggestions might you have for providers about developing rapport with South Asian American clients?

Kaipa:

When working with South Asian American clients, I tend to want to know the exact nature of the client’s cultural background (including what they consider to be their country of origin or countries they lived in before coming to the United States and what name they would give to themselves), their immigration history (when they arrived to the United States and whether they immigrated voluntarily or under significant duress, trauma, or financial hardship), religion and, if relevant, caste (as well as how important religion and/or caste is in their day-to-day lives), socioeconomic status (both the client’s as well as their family status, how this may have changed in the immigration process), and generational status. I would also want to know if the client lives in an extended family and if family members strongly influence a client’s decisions. Additionally, it is important to get a sense of whether the client and the client’s family are more conservative with respect to family roles (such as gender), cultural and familial expectations, and adherence to religion. Though the client may not be forthright about domestic violence or substance abuse, a good assessment should also be mindful that these issues might be impacting the client or the client’s family and could easily be overlooked.

It would also be useful to know what community and familial support systems are available for the client’s problem. In some cases, individuals may be surrounded by family but do not feel that they can safely share their problems. Experiences of discrimination and oppression are also important things to know. Has the client experienced discrimination due to their ethnic or religious background? In Muslim South Asian Americans, I would ask about how the current climate in America of “Islamophobia” impacts them, especially the fear and lack of respect that they may feel in interactions with all non-Muslims. Is the client experiencing significant stress as a result of gender discrimination or gender roles? In the case of domestic violence, are there multiple perpetrators? All of these factors will give good information about the life experiences and common stressors affecting the client or clients with whom you are working. Providers should keep in mind that client’s may not feel comfortable or be forthright with respect to all of these questions, and assessing discomfort and being flexible, patient, and gentle in how you approach these topics will likely go a long way toward putting the client at ease.

Given that assessing level of acculturation is very important, I also want to mention that some practitioners utilize acculturation measures in their work before planning interventions. Individuals rate themselves in terms of speaking South Asian languages or preferring South Asian food, music, cultural activities, friends, and values in contrast to speaking predominantly English and preferring American food, music, cultural activities, friends, and values. These measures can provide information about whether a person is highly identified with their culture of origin, highly acculturated to American norms and values, or somewhere in-between and likely bicultural. They can serve as a good starting point for understanding what issues the client might be experiencing, and responses can be a springboard for other questions about their experience. For instance, if you find that the client is more identified with their culture of origin and is not highly acculturated to American norms, this may indicate that the client may or may not be familiar with therapy or counseling and it may be good to give education about therapy and other interventions to avoid any misunderstandings. However, providers should be careful not to assume total understanding of the client based on acculturation scales, and it would be important to ask the client about any beliefs or values before assuming that they follow specific trends or patterns. As an example, with respect to behaviors, I would likely rate in the bicultural to more “American” range, but I am likely to place a greater emphasis on values that may be associated with those who are less acculturated, such teaching my daughter my family’s language and cultural stories and Indian classical dance and music.

Regarding building rapport, I think it is important for providers to strike a balance between being informed and being curious. Seeking consultation and learning about a client’s cultural background are crucial steps to understanding the presenting issues. But it is also important to ask about the very specific and personal ways that client’s experience family and culture—and whether or not the client thinks their concerns are cultural in nature. Individuals never perfectly follow patterns, and I think many people shut down if they feel providers have fixed or erroneous idea of who they are. Also, clients themselves might not be at a place where they are ready or comfortable to address issues of culture, and providers have to be mindful of this fact. Providers should be sensitive to matching clients to those of similar cultural background or to providers who speak the same language, if the client feels that this may facilitate an understanding of their issues. However, some South Asian American clients may feel more inhibited by seeing a provider of a similar background due to fear that this person might know their family or others in their community or, because of cultural similarity, judge them for the problems that they have.

Question:

Do you feel that there are any therapeutic approaches that are better matched with certain South Asian American groups? Are there any subgroups within the South Asian American community that are at particular risk for mental health problems?

Kaipa:

Given that South Asian Americans tend to have a better understanding of interfacing with the medical system, they may be more receptive to those therapies that appear to be more concrete, solution-oriented, and “medical” in nature, such as cognitive behavioral therapy. Also, psychodynamic therapies that focus on talking about family dynamics might cause clients to become very uncomfortable, as there may be a concern about airing the family’s problems and, worse yet, to what they perceive to be a stranger. Taking psychiatric medication is a complicated subject, too. At times, it might feel less shameful, stigmatizing, and threatening to South Asian Americans since the problem can be externalized as a medical problem and doesn’t involve talking with a stranger about personal things. South Asian American clients may also be likely to present with a more “tell-me-what-to-do” kind of attitude, which may lead providers to give advice rather than explore questions or seek more information. On the one hand, the advice-giving therapy relationship may be successful, but therapists may miss important family patterns or cultural information that would lead to be a better understanding of the problem and inform the best therapeutic intervention. In fact, providers should generally be mindful that South Asian American clients might downplay aspects of stress related to family and interpersonal dynamics. If possible, exploring all aspects of the system and cultural values and behaviors in which the clients live are an important part of working with this population. For example, in some cases, spiritually informed practices may be of paramount value to creating positive change.

Again, acculturation is a critical factor in how receptive clients will be to various styles of therapy and intervention. For instance, I think that more acculturated or assimilated groups of South Asians are likely to behave like dominant groups in the United States in that they might feel more comfortable sharing about difficult personal or family circumstances, are less likely to view the therapist as a “stranger,” and may better understand the role of therapy. They may also adopt some of the dominant stigma about medication since they are less likely to frame it as helping with a “medical” issue. Nevertheless, in contrast to the dominant group, they may feel nervous about how their cultural or family experiences will be perceived by providers who may not be familiar with their cultural background, values, and responsibilities.

In my own experience, as a second-generation South Asian American, I felt I benefited most from a supportive talk-therapy environment in which I could discuss the different problems I was facing and how I was feeling about them. But I very much needed and appreciated having a therapist who was open and engaged about cultural and identity issues and who, though not from my cultural background, tried to put herself in my position to understand my struggles rather than being in a judging role in which solutions come from Western misinterpretations of situations or rigid ideas about “healthy” relationships or interpersonal dynamics. While I’d encourage providers to communicate their interest in being mindful of cultural issues as early as the first meeting with the client as well as periodic check-ins with their South Asian American clients about cultural comfort, misunderstandings, or misinterpretations; I also think that the therapist has to do the work to cultivate a sincere attitude of openness and self-reflectiveness about how one’s own cultural ideas might help or hinder a client’s progress.

Question:

Last question. You’ve shared a lot of rich information with us. Could you finish by presenting a case that shows how it comes together in work with a client?

Kaipa:

When I entered graduate school, I was confident that I would not see a South Asian American client until starting a private practice (with a focus on this population). But I’ve already had worked with several South Asian American clients. I think this is, in part, because I trained in hospital settings, and as I mentioned earlier, clients may be more likely to seek help in this context.

My first South Asian American clients sought therapy for couples counseling. The couple was in their early 40s and had two school-aged children. The wife, who I will call Rani, had at the age of 10 or 11 emigrated from the state of Punjab in Northern India to the United States with her family in the late 1980s. Her family was not college educated, and they first worked in hotels and liquor stores owned by extended family in order to make ends meet before gathering the resources to buy their own establishments. Rani attended middle school and high school in the United States, and she earned her associates’ degree at a local community college. At the time that I saw them, Rani had been working part-time in an administrative role and spent the remainder of her time caring for the children and her in-laws. The town in which she was raised in central California had a sizeable Punjabi community and a local gurdwara, a Sikh temple, where her family worshipped, so outside of school, she was accustomed to socializing with mostly Punjabi Sikh families like her own. Though I do not know whether she considered her family traditional or conservative, they did arrange Rani’s marriage when she was in her late teens or early 20s. Her husband, who I’ll call Raj, was a recent immigrant to the United States, having come in his mid-20s after the marriage to Rani was arranged. He was not college educated. He was the full-time manager of a liquor store that the couple owned, and, as a result, he dealt with difficult, sometimes violent customers on a routine basis. According to family tradition, Raj invited his parents to live with them after they were married.

Rani initiated therapy and came to the intake appointment alone and, in her opinion, the major problems that she and Raj were experiencing were that Raj drank alcohol excessively and had a gambling problem. According to her, Raj had depleted their savings and caused significant financial and emotional strain in their relationship. Additionally, Rani’s relationship to Raj’s parents had taken a turn for the worst. She stated that they had gotten along well in the first few years of the relationship, but over the years, she felt that they expected her to serve and respect them without returning the respect, were very critical of her, and complained about her to other family members. In Rani’s view, she felt that Raj’s parents did not help with household chores even though they spent the most time at home while the couple worked, and, though they knew of the couple’s financial struggles, they did not contribute to the household financially. Rani understood that the problems that she was struggling with were ones that needed to be addressed in couples counseling.

When Raj joined Rani in couples therapy the next time, he was very quiet and not very forthright about the troubles they were experiencing. It appeared to be Rani’s goal to provide a “wake-up call” to Raj about how his drinking and gambling were becoming significant problems for the family. As I got to know the couple, it became clear that Rani was right about these issues, which Raj also acknowledged, but he was not yet ready to make significant changes in his behavior. Raj had a family history of alcohol abuse, and his brothers both drank excessively. Additionally, Raj’s friends socialized by drinking excessively and gambling, so these behaviors were considered to be normal ways of “unwinding.” Talking about the addictive behaviors took the form of “motivational interviewing” in that I felt that all that could be done was to seek information about how he felt his behaviors might be impacting him and his family. It was difficult for this discussion to take place in the context of couples therapy since Rani wished for the therapy to bring an immediate change to Raj’s behavior. Additionally, I believe that she was hoping that if the recommendation came from outside (from providers at a medical institution), it would lend credence to the problem, and Raj would change his ways. It was as if she was hoping for a prescription from a doctor to cure Raj.

The other problems in the relationship as they described them were related to family expectations and family dynamics, particularly with Raj’s parents. Rani’s perspective was of in-laws who were demanding and ungrateful, but Raj saw the problem differently. He felt that Rani had a very negative, almost hostile attitude toward his parents, which made them feel very unwelcome in the home environment and contributed to their loss of respect for Rani. Thus, he felt he needed to stand up for his parents and did not always support her position in the home or try to help her. The focus on family dynamics was to explore the problem from both Rani and Raj’s perspective with the goal of each of them understanding how the problem had developed as well as ways that they fueled rather than resolved the issue. I felt that the next step would have been to invite Raj’s parents to be a part of family therapy in order to discuss how to increase understanding and respect among all family members in the household.

Already, you can probably see how some of the things I’ve discussed about South Asian Americans were very relevant to this case. There were differences in levels of acculturation between Rani and Raj, and this impacted many aspects of their day-to-day lives, including their beliefs and values. For instance, it was clear to me that Raj would never have sought outside services or even considered it to be an option had Rani not initiated the process, and Rani, being somewhere between first and second generation, was not only aware of counseling resources but felt empowered enough to seek help for their problems. Even still, her expectation was that the medical establishment “prescribe” what was needed for his problem, asking for more top-down and less exploratory intervention. Moreover, Raj’s lack of interest in working with a counselor, as well as being in an early stage of change with respect to alcohol and gambling addiction, made engagement in the therapeutic process lopsided and of limited utility at times. It also appeared that addiction problems had a cultural component, as working in a liquor store with sometimes violent customers appeared to be a stressor common to more newly immigrated South Asians of lower socioeconomic status. Among South Asians, Punjabi men are commonly considered more alcoholic than other groups. I was not certain whether this was merely a stereotype, but I definitely got the impression that Raj socialized with men who considered it normal to drink excessive amounts of alcohol. Had I felt that Raj and Rani were open to the conversation and the relationship we had was more solid, I would further explored this issue.

A difference in acculturation and values was also at play with respect to family dynamics, as Raj and his parents were invested in the cultural idea that a son’s parents should live with him, and they also likely believed that the role of the daughter-in-law was to care for her husband’s family. While Rani appeared sympathetic to these roles as her own family might have held similar cultural beliefs, she also seemed to feel stressed by expectations that she be a financially contributing member of the family while also maintaining responsibility for her in-laws. Raj’s perspective was also a very valuable and important one as he felt that it was important that his family be given respect and feel welcome in their household. It was my belief that including family in discussions around values, responsibilities, and respect would have likely been more fruitful than just talking with the couple alone about these issues, but it was highly likely that Raj’s parents would have required a Punjabi-speaking therapist and would likely have felt that therapy was both unfamiliar and not a way that they might handle their problems.

Finally, I want to talk about my own work with this couple in terms of being a South Asian American therapist. On the one hand, I think I had a fairly good understanding of some of the cultural issues at play and knew what information to obtain from them in order to gain a more comprehensive understanding of the problems, but I think one issue that I’ve had in working with South Asian Americans, which I think also played out in the context of working with this couple, is how easy it can be to focus on characteristics that make South Asians similar and subsequently miss the subtle differences between groups that might help in building rapport and more thoroughly inform the work. I think this might happen less with my cross-cultural work, in which I’m acutely aware of what I don’t know and that I can’t speak for the issues of this group. I also think it is easy to feel that problems are unsolvable because issues feel more insurmountable if there are cultural values and beliefs that strongly determine worldviews and are difficult to change or reconcile with other beliefs. I definitely felt this way in my work with Raj and Rani.