On Becoming a Black Family Therapist

Today, in honor of my deceased father’s 74 th birthday I share a personal story that reflects the nuanced dynamics of the psychological damage that often occurs in families. My story is unique to me, but I know it shares flavors with other people’s experiences, and I hope that in reading this you may find a piece of yourself and your own healing. My dad loved me deeply. I know he did. He held the vibration of love and adoration for me. In my eyes he did lots of things wrong, but in my heart, he could do no wrong. I felt from him, in his presence, the love and holding that he had for me. I was his princess. His sweetheart. I felt that with all my heart and soul, yet I could not square that feeling with the reality of our human relationship. As a five- or six-year-old, I would sit with him in silence as he watched football. On his lap, the safest place I knew of at the time. While he watched and smoked his cigarettes. While I allowed us to be wrapped in smoke. While I grasped at the...

Know that you stand on the shoulders of resistance Of ancestors who stood in persistence Know that you are the product of strong genes Of people oppressed by all means Know that you shine as answered prayers of those that came before you Of wise ones who dared to dream of what you can now do Know that you come from their work their toil and their pain Of foundations beneath all you have gained Know that you come from storytellers, drummers and dancers Of acknowledgement of their free souls even without the answers Know that you’re descendant of knowers and seers who listened inside Of survivors and thrivers through the atrocities outside Know that you come from beings who knew their oneness with All Of strong roots firmly planted during the fall Know that you are Divine A manifestation of Their great Joy Of hope Of grace An immaculate expression of faith! By: Keya F. Williams