“Even in Therapy, White Privilege Has a Home”
“I needed a safe space outside of my partial identity so I could better navigate through my own thoughts and outside perceptions. Therefore, I decided to see a therapist in hopes of them providing a level of objectivity that I couldn’t find in my friends and family. Unfortunately, I didn’t find a safe space in therapy.
I don’t think I was quite a warm foot into my therapist’s office before she expressed her shock and surprise over my family’s background. Having a present, loving, and contributing dad in my life was the stuff fairytales are made of judging from my therapist’s reaction. Sprinkle in my parent’s 30-plus year marriage, and you have a Disney movie. I wasn’t offended because I’ve gotten used to defending my family’s stability to people — white people. I even grew desensitized to their reactions. But I did not expect to encounter such judgments in therapy.
It took me awhile to realize what was happening because I was on autopilot. It wasn’t until a few sessions in that I concluded my therapist was not the therapist for me. I should’ve known something was up when she opened with a “I don’t know a whole lot about Black men in America, but…” — the equivalent to saying, “Not to sound racist, but…”…
I stopped seeing my therapist because I needed a counselor who had an basic understanding of race as it applies to Black and brown bodies in the United States. So much of my existence is rooted in other people’s problems with my Blackness. I don’t care to villainize my therapist, and I certainly don’t think of her as a racist. But similar to many people, my therapist lives in a bubble of her own world. And the world doesn’t have to concern itself with genuinely understanding Black lives, which in this case, translated into my therapy, or lack their of.”
Related: “Why Therapists Should Talk Politics”; “DEPRESSION IS POLITICAL”
