Memoirs of a Mentor: Using Creativity for Counselors in Coping With the Loss of a Mentor

This article was inspired by my (S.S.) own personal loss. My mentor passed away during spring break of my 2nd year postgraduate school after a short battle with systemic lupus. I remember the deep sadness that I felt when it became apparent that she was coming home from the hospital for the last time. No words can describe the emotions; she had helped me through the toughest times in my academic life. How would I ever get the type of mentorship she provided again? She was there when I almost quit as a young student, back when my anger still got the best of me. She talked me down from the edge so many times; I never expected to be on this journey without her.

I dedicate this article to her and mentors like her. Equally, I dedicate this article to mentees who have lost their mentors. I offer my story (in italicized font) in the hopes that it will help others who are dealing with a similar loss. In this article, we attempt to illuminate the true power of mentorship, honor the significance of the relationship between mentor and mentee, and provide a tool useful to anyone who has lost their guide. I share my story in gratitude for my own mentor; I am so thankful that she was a part of my journey and that I can pass on to others the patience she had with me.     

Countertransference revisited

A female patient of mine recounts her week. I listen with interest, waiting for her to arrive at particular conclusions. She has suffered a great deal and still does, but prefers not to dwell on it. My interest turns into patience as she continues to talk but circumvents her discontent. She is adroit at avoidance, but easily offended when I point such things out. "I'd better wait" I think. I grow more aware that I must encourage her digressions. I feel frustrated. Getting further and further away, she skirts the issue with supple grace, then strays off into tangentiality. I forget her point and lose my focus, then get down on myself. The opportunity is soon gone. I glance at the clock as her monologue drones on into banality. I grow more uninterested and distant. There is a subtle irritation to her voice; a whiney indecisive ring begins to pervade my consciousness. I home in on her mouth with aversion, watching apprehensively as this disgusting hole flaps tirelessly but says nothing. It looks carnivorous, voracious. Now she is unattractive, something I have noticed before. I forget who my next patient is. I think about the meal I will prepare for my wife this evening, then glance at the time once more. Then I am struck: Why am I looking at the clock? So soon? The session has just begun. I catch myself. What is going on in me, between us? I am detached, but why? Is she too feeling unattuned, disconnected? I am failing my patient. What is her experience of me? I lamentingly confess that I do not feel I have been listening to her, and wonder what has gone wrong between us. I ask her if she has noticed. We talk about our feelings, our impact on one another, why we had lost our sense of connection, what it means to us. I instantly feel more involved, rejuvenated, and she continues, this time with me present. Her mouth is no longer odious, but sincere and articulate. She is attractive and tender; I suddenly feel empathy and warmth toward her. We are now very close. I am moved. Time flies, the session is soon over; we do not want it to end.     

Encounters with raven

I have been visited by Eurydice. She first came to me, unbidden, unexpected, in the way things usually first come to me–in a poem. But there was something different about how this poem happened. On one of my Fridays devoted to writing, I was suddenly hijacked by Eurydice's point of view, her voice, her demand that I speak for her. She was shrill. She was insistent. She gave me no choice but to work on the poem till I had gotten it how she wanted it. She feels she has been much neglected and misunderstood, and she let me know a poem was not enough. It was just the beginning. She wants prose. She wants essays. She wants public presentations. She wants me to tell her version of the story.     

Rationality and reflection

Christine Korsgaard claims that an agent is less than fully rational if she allows some attitude to inform her deliberation even though she cannot justify doing so. I argue that there is a middle way, which Korsgaard misses, between the claim that our attitudes neither need nor admit of rational assessment, on the one hand, and Korsgaard's claim that the attitudes which inform our deliberation always require justification, on the other: an agent needs reasons to opt out of her concerns – not reasons to opt into them or to stay in. As long as an agent has no good reason to abandon some concern of hers, she is reasonable to harbour it, and to allow it to inform her view of what reasons she has. A rational agent must therefore have the capacity to form higher-order attitudes toward her concerns; but rationality only requires that she exercise that capacity when she has some good reason to do so.     

Precedent Autonomy and Subsequent Consent

Honoring a living will typically involves treating an incompetent patient in accord with preferences she once had, but whose objects she can no longer understand. How do we respect her “precedent autonomy” by giving her what she used to want? There is a similar problem with “subsequent consent”: How can we justify interfering with someone's autonomy on the grounds that she will later consent to the interference, if she refuses now? Both problems arise on the assumption that, to respect someone's autonomy, any preferences we respect must be among that person's current preferences. I argue that this is not always true. Just as we can celebrate an event long after it happens, so can we respect someone's wishes long before or after she has that wish. In the contexts of precedent autonomy and subsequent consent, the wishes are often preferences about which of two other, conflicting preferences to satisfy. When someone has two conflicting preferences, and a third preference on how to resolve that conflict, to respect his autonomy we must respect that third preference. People with declining competence may have a resolution preference earlier, favoring the earlier conflicting preference (precedent autonomy), whereas those with rising competence may have it later, favoring the later conflicting preference (subsequent consent). To respect autonomy in such cases we must respect not a current, but a former or later preference.     

Living in with Normal Families

Connie Hansen participated in my project, “Methodology for Studying Family Interaction,” in the mid 1960s. One of the purposes of that project was to compare several groups of families, including “normals.” Connie suggested that it might provide a rich source of data if she were to “live in” with a few of the “normal” families and observe them day to day on their own territory. (A year or so before, Dr. Jules Henry had given a talk to the MRI staff about living-in with “schizogenic” families, and I believe that Connie had discussed her idea with him.) Connie was an experienced family therapist — she was one of Virginia Satir's first students — and a most perceptive observer. She lived with three “normal” families for a week each during 1966–67; she was excited by the wealth of material and exhausted by the experience. She tried to develop a group of central themes from her data and gave me a preliminary draft of a paper in 1969. It clearly contained a number of important observations about the complexities and subtleties of family systems and some beginning attempts at conceptualization. She struggled for years to clarify and elaborate on her material. Several times she sent me portions and fragments of new drafts, each with additional insights, but she was never satisfied with her efforts. It seems a fitting tribute to Connie — she died early in 1979 — to attempt to put together her various drafts. We wanted to publish this very important material in a readable form and yet still preserve the immediateness, enthusiasm, and vividness of her observations. I hope, that if she were to read it, she would not be overly critical of this final draft. JULES RISKIN, M.D. It is a special privilege for me to participate in this posthumous publication of Connie Hansen's unique contribution to the further knowledge of family interaction. She died before the material could be published. I feel particular gratitude to the young woman who entered my first training program in 1961 at the Mental Research Institute. This was a time when such training seemed “far out” and was regarded as “probably only a fad.” She was willing to face the risks inherent to her professional standing by choosing to do this training. It was this same courage together with her imagination and curiosity and her willingness to document her experience without judging it that resulted in the article now being published. Farewell, Connie, and thank you for your presence in my life. VIRGINIA M.SATIR     

An Analysis of the Effectiveness of the Intervention

SUMMARY

In this chapter, I examine the specific problem Betty had with her children because, in many ways, it represents the problems most of the volunteers had with their children. Her problem was the most extreme among the participants, and she involved the other volunteers in helping her look for a solution. The vignette that follows comes from my field logs, and it is followed with a layered response from Betty's peers. The vignette offers a close look at Betty's problems with her daughters and the dilemma she experienced in relation to coming to work when her children needed her. Betty told her story to Esther, Dolores, and me one morning in the dayroom.     

A physically handicapped teenager is helped to own her body

In this paper I am presenting my work with a 15-year-old girl, Nina, who was born premature with congenital feet deformities. Her twin had died at birth, and Nina spent eight weeks in a Special Care Baby unit. She had also suffered from bronchial asthma, which was under control during the months she was in therapy with me.

An attempt to overdose, and a letter she had written to a teacher, brought Nina to our services and to individual psychotherapy. The weekly sessions gave Nina the opportunity to elaborate her mourning for the dead twin and to face her physical problems more realistically. She had coped with these by idealising a beautiful body and giving it, in her phantasy, to her dead sister for whose death she felt responsible. Her identification with characters from horror stories, of which she was an avid reader, was a key to understanding how she felt trapped in her deformed body, to which she would refer in the phrase ‘It doesn't bother me.’ The working through of her feelings of guilt, anger, and envy enabled her to lessen the split and to own her body.     

Internalism about reasons: sad but true?

Internalists about reasons following Bernard Williams claim that an agent’s normative reasons for action are constrained in some interesting way by her desires or motivations. In this paper, I offer a new argument for such a position—although one that resonates, I believe, with certain key elements of Williams’ original view. I initially draw on P.F. Strawson’s famous distinction between the interpersonal and the objective stances that we can take to other people, from the second-person point of view. I suggest that we should accept Strawson’s contention that the activity of reasoning with someone about what she ought to do naturally belongs to the interpersonal mode of interaction. I also suggest that reasons for an agent to perform some action are considerations which would be apt to be cited in favor of that action, within an idealized version of this advisory social practice. I then go on to argue that one would take leave of the interpersonal stance towards someone—thus crossing the line, so to speak—in suggesting that she do something one knows she wouldn’t want to do, even following an exhaustive attempt to hash it out with her. An internalist necessity constraint on reasons is defended on this basis.     

MORAL DELIBERATION AND OPERATIVE RIGHTS: A RESPONSE TO MARY MAGADA‐WARD AND CYNTHIA GAYMAN

Abstract: The aim of this article is to show how intimately connected Beth J. Singer's theory of operative rights is with her understanding of the deliberative process. I thus argue against Cynthia Gayman's effort to set in contrast Singer's theory of rights and Dewey's characteristic emphasis on reflective morality. Since I take the value of Singer's approach to be most evident in its relevance to the abortion debate as an ongoing deliberation, I question whether Mary Magada‐Ward sufficiently appreciates the dialogical and deliberative emphases of Singer's stance. My goal, however, is not so much to argue against either Gayman or Magada‐Ward as it is to argue for taking Singer's position even more seriously than either author does. In particular, I want to highlight the finely nuanced character of Singer's philosophical intervention in the debate regarding abortion, especially stressing certain features that Gayman and Magada‐Ward overlook.     

Should a school honor a student's DNR order? A lawyer responds: a student's right to forgo CPR.

...Instead of and certainly before advising the school or S.A. to go into court, I would urge them to try to resolve the question where it arises -- in the classroom, not the courtroom. And I would ask school officials to try to place themselves in S.A.'s shoes, and to imagine how she feels about her situation; and to ask themselves how they will feel if they administer CPR against her and her parents' wishes. Is there no way that they can do more than nothing, but less than CPR? Which image would we prefer to attach to S.A.'s case, that of some lawyers giving a press conference on the courthouse steps or of a story about a school that made it possible for one of its students to spend her precious time with her friends, classmates, and teachers, as they learn together that death does not need to separate the living from the dying?     

Hidden feelings 1945-95

Abstract

It was a fact learnt early in life: wherever I travelled in Europe as a teenager, it paid me to explain that I was Dutch, not German. And when I left home at 18, in search of the elusive key to good faith and freedom, and came to Britain, crossing the Channel to reach the sole part of Europe untouched by enemy invasion, I felt I was welcomed like a lost daughter; many people told me of the part they played in the liberation of Holland in 1945. And now, fifty years after the historic events of the Second World War have passed, I still like to invoke the ‘magic’ if I can. While staying in a bed and breakfast in Coventry recently, I pointed out to the landlady that a morning call, as written down by the German guest, was requested at 7.15, instead of, as she had read, at 9.15. ‘Oh’, she said, annoyed, realizing the mistake: ‘Do they cross their number seven? We never do’. I was instantly eager to clear my name: ‘The Dutch never do so either’     

Dispossessing Defeat

Higher-order evidence can make an agent doubt the reliability of her reasoning. When this happens, it seems rational for the agent to adopt a cautious attitude towards her original conclusion, even in cases where the higher-order evidence is misleading and the agent's original reasons were actually perfectly good. One may think that recoiling to a cautious attitude in the face of misleading self-doubt involves a failure to properly respond to one's reasons. My aim is to show that this is not so. My proposal is that (misleading) higher-order evidence can undermine the agent's possession of her first-order reasons, constituting what I call a dispossessing defeater. After acquiring the higher-order evidence, the agent is no longer in a position to rely competently on the relevant first-order considerations as reasons for her original conclusion, so that such reasons stop being available to her (even if they remain as strong as in the absence of the higher-order evidence). In this way, an agent with misleading higher-order evidence can adopt a cautious stance towards her original conclusion, while properly responding to the set of reasons that she possesses–a set that is reduced due to the acquisition of higher-order dispossessing defeaters.     

Going home: migration as enactment and symbol

Abstract :  The concepts of home and migration are briefly explored. Reference is made to the reflections of several writers on migration suggesting that migrants may experience alienation, even permanent melancholia. There is discussion of the need to mourn what has been lost and left behind, and of the challenge in analytic work with a migrant to relate to the pain of the individual's core self amid environmental and cultural losses. The paper outlines the history of an individual before her migration from Latin America to London, and tendency to idealize as a new arrival. The symbolization process is discussed and it is suggested that repetitive enactment in the analytic transference may have been needed for her internal reality of estrangement to be confirmed and differentiated from her culturally and socially isolated external life as a migrant. Only then could she mourn losses and symbolize her inner reality. It is suggested that through mourning and symbolization the significance of migration for the patient was worked with and transformed so that, following a second migration, an ordinary, good enough home could be made in a new place.     

When Should we Regret?

In this paper, I develop and defend the ‘Justified Decision Perspective’ (JDP) in answer to the question of when we should regret the things we have done. I claim that one should not regret a past decision one has made so long as it was justified in relation to the kind of person one was at the time of acting. On this time-indexing account, judging a decision to be justified – at least for the purposes of assessing one’s regrets – is a matter of identifying the practical reasons that were epistemically available to the agent when she was deliberating about what to do. Accordingly, when responding to her regrets, an agent should not invoke (a) reasons that existed but were epistemically unavailable to her when she was deliberating; or (b) reasons that only came into existence after she acted. The JDP has important implications for prospective regret. In particular, it implies we should worry less about experiencing regret in the future than many of us do. Thus, my overall aim is to show that we often have reason to reject our regrets, which means that regret should play a less prominent and painful role in our lives than it does currently.     

Feeling nothing: Numbness and emotional absence

I argue that it is possible for a subject to undergo experiences of emotional absence, during which she becomes aware of her own failure to be moved by the world around her. Just as a part of one's body feels numb when it manifestly fails to incur the ordinary sensory consequences of transactions at the surface of the skin, so an individual feels emotional absence when her affective condition manifestly fails to vary in predictable ways as she navigates her surroundings. Experiences of emotional absence, such as feeling numb with shock or grief, feeling unamused, or feeling fearless, are not simply flat or neutral states of awareness, but can bear psychological and epistemic significance for the agent.