A detour to residential work
I just returned to New Mexico after a 1.5 year stint in Western Massachusetts. During my time there I worked in two residential facilities for children and teens: one short-term and one long-term. I had worked para-professionally in residential facilities with adults prior to earning my Masters in Art Therapy/Counseling. But working with kids whose issues were of such intensity that they had to be removed from their homes was a new experience.
The children who spend time in residential treatment in Massachusetts have usually stepped down from acute hospitalization at one of the many mental health facilities in the state or a state nearby. For the state or insurance to pay the often $100,000/year bill that is residential treatment, the child has to exhibit some ongoing symptoms that are life-threatening: self-harming behavior, abusive or threatening behavior, suicidal ideation, or homicidal ideation. Most often these children experience suicidal ideation and/or self-harming behavior. Most often these children have suffered trauma.
So having written about these kiddos in terms of their symptoms, I want to write about their soulfulness, power, humanity, and creativity. These children are the survivors: they have endured horrific traumas, genetic legacies of mental illness, soul-crushing disappointments and betrayals. They are still alive even when some of them don't want to be. When their voices are heard, they are loud and fraught with all the intensity of youth and the world-wariness of adulthood mixed still, somehow, with innocence.
I don't want to romanticize their situations. In my short time working residential, I drove countless times to hospitals to meet with kids who weren't able to be safe even in a residential program. I confronted children about committing sexual abuse. I ran through the dark winter woods in rural Massachusetts trying to catch a runaway girl. I soothed staff who found a teenager trying to hang themselves in a closet. I would sometimes leave work and think, "These parents eat their young." And yet most of these kids were able to paint, draw, or collage in sessions, creating images of huge power and significance for themselves. They had the courage to share parts of themselves with me, even though I was often therapist number 38 in their short lives. They shared with each other and gave each other strength to continue trying.
Their art was incredible, and I wish I was able to share it here. As an art therapist who also actively makes art, I appreciate its value emotionally and artistically. I know I was often assigned the more artistically inclined clients, so I probably saw more skilled artists than is average in the client population. Even so, I hope some of the kids I worked with are able to pursue careers in the arts. I am routing for each of them to survive their childhood and adolescence and share their gifts with the world.
The children who spend time in residential treatment in Massachusetts have usually stepped down from acute hospitalization at one of the many mental health facilities in the state or a state nearby. For the state or insurance to pay the often $100,000/year bill that is residential treatment, the child has to exhibit some ongoing symptoms that are life-threatening: self-harming behavior, abusive or threatening behavior, suicidal ideation, or homicidal ideation. Most often these children experience suicidal ideation and/or self-harming behavior. Most often these children have suffered trauma.
So having written about these kiddos in terms of their symptoms, I want to write about their soulfulness, power, humanity, and creativity. These children are the survivors: they have endured horrific traumas, genetic legacies of mental illness, soul-crushing disappointments and betrayals. They are still alive even when some of them don't want to be. When their voices are heard, they are loud and fraught with all the intensity of youth and the world-wariness of adulthood mixed still, somehow, with innocence.
I don't want to romanticize their situations. In my short time working residential, I drove countless times to hospitals to meet with kids who weren't able to be safe even in a residential program. I confronted children about committing sexual abuse. I ran through the dark winter woods in rural Massachusetts trying to catch a runaway girl. I soothed staff who found a teenager trying to hang themselves in a closet. I would sometimes leave work and think, "These parents eat their young." And yet most of these kids were able to paint, draw, or collage in sessions, creating images of huge power and significance for themselves. They had the courage to share parts of themselves with me, even though I was often therapist number 38 in their short lives. They shared with each other and gave each other strength to continue trying.
Their art was incredible, and I wish I was able to share it here. As an art therapist who also actively makes art, I appreciate its value emotionally and artistically. I know I was often assigned the more artistically inclined clients, so I probably saw more skilled artists than is average in the client population. Even so, I hope some of the kids I worked with are able to pursue careers in the arts. I am routing for each of them to survive their childhood and adolescence and share their gifts with the world.
Comments
Post a Comment