Holding the Raw
We as art therapists hold intense content and raw affect as it manifests in our clients' words, postures, movements, actions, and art. When a client or a group is processing something particularly painful, it can touch into our own vulnerable places and elicit a strong and sometimes unexpected response from us as therapists or group facilitators.
I was recently directing a small team of art therapists to lead group art processes for teenage girls in conflict. At times I was facilitating the art directives myself, and at other times I was supporting and coaching my team in facilitation. Throughout this process I was present, participating, and absorbing the anger of the group in a way that I don't normally experience. I have a history of absorbing the grief of groups, and I am comfortable with this: anger, on the other hand, is a trickier animal for me. I found myself wriggling with the intensity and unpredictability of carrying raw anger. It is hotter, faster; it is an outward force, requiring movement. Carrying it so fully challenged fundamental judgments around anger that I was indoctrinated with throughout my childhood and which were reinforced by society. I judged myself a lot at first, then laughed at myself and admired myself for carrying the anger. In holding it and being moved by it, I found myself coming to a greater understanding of anger. I found it can be a friend when all feels hopeless. Anger can disprove helplessness in the face of injustice. Anger can be like jet fuel when I've been running on puddle water. Anger is not war.
These teenage girls we were guiding have experienced violence and injustice at a level that I can only imagine - genocide, terrorism, extreme loss facilitated by each other's relatives. Of course their anger is palpable. And if that anger can be transformed into a friend and into fuel to resolve a decades-long conflict, then what can they not accomplish?
It is our job to metabolize the raw affect of our clients and resolve it somewhat in ourselves: if we cannot do this, how can we guide others to do the same. The challenge is in the process, in our courage and willingness to step into the fire with our clients.
I was recently directing a small team of art therapists to lead group art processes for teenage girls in conflict. At times I was facilitating the art directives myself, and at other times I was supporting and coaching my team in facilitation. Throughout this process I was present, participating, and absorbing the anger of the group in a way that I don't normally experience. I have a history of absorbing the grief of groups, and I am comfortable with this: anger, on the other hand, is a trickier animal for me. I found myself wriggling with the intensity and unpredictability of carrying raw anger. It is hotter, faster; it is an outward force, requiring movement. Carrying it so fully challenged fundamental judgments around anger that I was indoctrinated with throughout my childhood and which were reinforced by society. I judged myself a lot at first, then laughed at myself and admired myself for carrying the anger. In holding it and being moved by it, I found myself coming to a greater understanding of anger. I found it can be a friend when all feels hopeless. Anger can disprove helplessness in the face of injustice. Anger can be like jet fuel when I've been running on puddle water. Anger is not war.
These teenage girls we were guiding have experienced violence and injustice at a level that I can only imagine - genocide, terrorism, extreme loss facilitated by each other's relatives. Of course their anger is palpable. And if that anger can be transformed into a friend and into fuel to resolve a decades-long conflict, then what can they not accomplish?
It is our job to metabolize the raw affect of our clients and resolve it somewhat in ourselves: if we cannot do this, how can we guide others to do the same. The challenge is in the process, in our courage and willingness to step into the fire with our clients.
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