How Asian American therapists can process grief and trauma as we go through collective traumas such as the monterey park shooting
As a first-generation Asian immigrant therapist living in a neighborhood close to Monterey Park, CA, the past few weeks have been filled with grief and confusion, yet with a sense of responsibility to serve and care for clients. The night of the shooting, I heard several rounds of gunfire going off as I was writing about how violence affects the AAPI community and our mental health. At first, I was confused about whether it was gunfire or fireworks as it was the night before Lunar New Year.
As a person who lives with Posttraumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) after years of living in a community filled with gun violence, my mind immediately went into shelter-in-place mode. That morning, I got woken up early by my wife who did not sleep all night and was told that there had been a mass shooting in the nearby neighborhood where we frequent for late-night food and boba drinks. I was shaken up by the news.
The first thought process I had after the shooting was, “How am I going to care for my clients as I grieve the loss of safety, the loss of precious lives, and the loss of feeling at home?” as I had to continue to see clients in the coming days and weeks. And I would like to share what I have experienced and what I have found to be helpful in the past couple of weeks of processing the event.
Seek support from AAPI colleagues, supervisors, and mentors professionally.
I have learned the importance of having AAPI supervisors who understand the unique experience of being an AAPI therapist while the AAPI community is experiencing many collective traumas and violence. I have two wonderful AAPI supervisors whom I meet with biweekly, not only for clinical supervision but also for the purpose of being seen and witnessed by someone who understands where I come from. I did not have to explain what the Monterey Park shooting meant to me nor did I have to educate my supervisors on how it impacts the mental health of the AAPI clients I serve. It was truly freeing to just be and not worry about if my supervisors would evaluate whether I was emotionally fit to see clients. Instead, Rodney, my 70-something-year-old Chinese American supervisor, sincerely asked me how I was doing and shared his own experience of being in proximity to traumatic events. Having a supervisor/mentor/colleague who looks like us and understands our roots matters more than we care to admit.
2. Acknowledge you are a human and show up authentically in your work with clients.
When some of the major political events took place this past year, such as the overturn of Roe v. Wade and other violent crimes against the AAPI communities, many of my queer AAPI and BIPOC clients brought them up in the sessions immediately after the events. As mental health professionals, we are taught to be objective, refrain from self-disclosure, and impose our values. While I agree with that teaching to some extent, I have found how valuable it is to show up authentically rather than objectively, do therapeutic self-disclosure when appropriate, and influence our clients on their therapeutic journey without imposing the ways we choose to live our lives. In my therapeutic process with clients, I not only celebrate with them but also grieve with them when appropriate. After all, that has been the motto of my professional life: rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. I want to show up as a fellow human who can be a co-pilot on their journey as my clients learn how to move through life and thrive despite the pain.
3. Lean on the community and remember our ancestral collectivism.
I shared on my social media briefly about my experience of being in proximity to the horrible event that shook the thriving AAPI community in the city where my wife and I live. Some friends and chosen family members reached out to us and checked on us as we were processing the event. For the first time in a while, I wanted to be witnessed in my shock and pain and share that burden with the community. This was not just my story to share, but it also is the story of our community. At times, as therapists, we are held to higher standards, especially when it comes to relational health and mental health, and we often feel afraid of sharing our struggles and pain. In times like this, I wanted to remember and deeply experience our ancestral way of life: caring for one another and leaning on the community.
It is okay to take a break and let your clients know that you will be taking care of yourself so that you can show up more fully with clients. By doing so, you are actually exemplifying what you want your clients to do in their lives: to love themselves more fully and to be loved by their communities. Take a break. Spend more time with your loved ones. Take a road trip or vacation with your significant others. Do not be afraid to be seen in your pain by people you love and people who love you. Before being a therapist, you were a human first. Let’s remember that as we continue to serve our community in love.
Love,
Dr. Wonbin