Category: News

  • How can MI-AIMH Grow the Diversity of the IMH Field?

    How can MI-AIMH Grow the Diversity of the IMH Field?

    The short answer to this question is, “Intention and Attention”. The rest of this message will offer you information to reflect upon related to our growth process.

    Our Chosen Definition of Diversity

    MI-AIMH strengthens and supports a diverse infant and early childhood mental health-informed workforce, engaging professionals who represent many different cultures, ethnicities, disciplines and service communities. These professionals support pregnant women, infants, toddlers, young children and families in a variety of ways, integrating I-ECMH principles in their work with families.  Because we believe that it is important that we direct our workforce development activities towards this broad expanse of individuals and organizations that touch the lives of families during this sensitive period, we feel an equally broad definition of diversity is required.

    The challenge that we acknowledge is that it is difficult to “go deep” in any one priority area when we are so broad in our attention.  There is no doubt that we have many miles ahead in this journey, nor that we have laced up our sturdy walking shoes to travel down the path.  In reflecting upon where we have been, where we are now, and where we are going, I hope we can notice and mark the milestones achieved and power ahead to reach those before us.

    The Evolution of IMH Workforce Development Efforts

    Founded in 1977, MI-AIMH was born from Selma Fraiberg’s pioneering infant mental health work recognizing the critical importance of the infant-parent relationship to all learning and development. Over time, MI-AIMH has translated her model of “therapy around the kitchen table” into a comprehensive, practical framework for infant and family professionals, which has guided the IMH home visiting model in our public community mental health services system in Michigan.  The attainment of Medicaid funding to support this treatment by MI-AIMH Endorsed mental health clinicians has resulted in tremendous growth of IMH treatment services for high risk families who are pregnant or parenting infants and young children.  However, other professionals also spend many hours with very young children and work with families who are pregnant or parenting birth to six year olds, and we want them to use our resources and expertise to support relationship-focused, reflective practices aligned with infant mental health competencies.

    Our relationships with other important systems serving infants, young children and families over the years have continued to inform understanding about the importance of an IMH informed workforce to the well-being of those we serve.  Endorsed professionals now represent the broad array of service delivery systems to this population, even though the majority are still providing infant and early childhood mental health services in CMH programs.

    Our framework to guide understanding and attainment of competency, the MI-AIMH Endorsement for Culturally Sensitive, Relationship-Focused Practice Promoting Infant and Early Childhood Mental Health® developed in 2002, reflects the diversity of practitioners in terms of their professional roles and practice settings.  The competencies upon which this was built are what we have focused our training programs on ever since.

    Specific to cultural diversity, all of our training events intend to integrate this perspective into the didactic and reflective components of the programs.  Sometimes we have been more successful than others in these efforts, and current vetting of potential training emphasizes this as a focus.  We have also developed and delivered training over the years wholly devoted to issues related to culture, relationship support across difference, and identity self-awareness.  In the last several years we have offered memorable stand-alone events and MI-AIMH Conference presentations from diverse trainers on topics such as historical trauma, hair-combing interactions, third space, the Irving Harris diversity tenets, reflective supervision where there is racial difference between supervisor and supervisee, and more.

    Coming up in 2018 and 2019, we will have a repeat offering of “Climbing Mountains, Building Bridges” (an important training offered over the last few years), and two major events built to deepen our competency in providing culturally sensitive relationship-focused work:  The Explorations in Development 2-day conference offered in collaboration with Wayne State University’s Merrill-Palmer Skillman Institute IMH Dual Title Program and Healthier Urban Families Program this fall will examine the role of culture, power and privilege in seeking and utilizing early intervention and early childhood mental health services.  Our 2019 MI-AIMH Biennial Conference in May is entitled Relationships Heal: The Transformative Power of Connections, which will reflect many aspects of our work through a cultural lens.

    Building More Diverse IMH Leadership

    Competency-based training leading to Endorsement will always be one of our key strategies for building strong infant-family professionals.  This is our primary mission, but it is not enough to address the needs in our field to open pathways that will result in more culturally diverse leaders.  We are attending to this both within MI-AIMH and within the global organization we are a part of, the Alliance for the Advancement of Infant Mental Health®Here are a few important examples of intention and attention to this area of need:

    • MI-AIMH’s Board and Liaison roster now reflects more racial diversity than ever in its officers, committee leadership, and representatives
    • The EASy application system for Endorsement® has been translated into Spanish for the IFA and IFS categories thanks to grant support from our Alliance partner, the Oregon Infant Mental Health Association, Colorado’s Project LAUNCH, and Connecticut’s HSSCO. Further efforts are underway to support translation at the IMHS and IMHM categories, as well as to hire a Spanish speaking Endorsement Coordinator to work with potential applicants across the country
    • The next Annual Reflective Supervision/Consultation (RSC) Symposium that will be in Colorado in August will continue to provide an in-depth opportunity to build reflective supervision expertise and leadership. I have had the privilege of being on the planning committee as an Alliance Board member. Entitled “Mining the Depths: An Exploration of Equity Through the Reflective Process”, we intend to immerse attendees in considering the impact of race and equity on the important relationship for learning that RSC offers.
    • The Alliance drafted a Call to Action document for all member IMH associations on Diversity, which will be published in our next Crier issue
    • MI-AIMH is exploring the feasibility of joint grant-seeking with Wayne State University/Merrill-Palmer Skillman Institute to offer Diversity Fellowship experiences once again

    It is with great humility that I ask you to celebrate what we all have accomplished thanks to the many voices and hours of intentional attention to the issues at hand AND to stay engaged as we continue to find our way forward together.

  • All at Sea: A Case Discussion

    All at Sea: A Case Discussion

    This story reflects the case, but details have been changed to protect the privacy of the family.

    I was greeted warmly by Mom, who was referred through her family doctor for infant mental health services because of concerns about her depression following the complicated birth of her son five months earlier. This was all the information I was given about the family, and I did not know what to expect when I arrived at the home that first day. The baby wasn’t home, having been sent over to Grandma’s so we would be free to speak together. Mom reported that she was becoming more depressed since the birth; being a mother wasn’t the joyful experience she had anticipated.

    Happy baby with globe,isolated on a white background.

    A Ship Off Course

    She explained that the problem was her infant’s stubborn temperament. “He tantrums like a toddler.” Since the birth “I’ve been thinking that if he is this strong-willed at 3 weeks, what’s he going to be like when he goes to school?” She went on to say, “Now at 5 months, he doesn’t want certain people at certain times.” “He doesn’t want my attention. When I try to play with him he closes his eyes and goes to sleep, like he doesn’t want to see me.” When they are out in public and people come over to greet him, “He closes his eyes. He’s so disrespectful!”

    Also, Mom explained, Baby wouldn’t stop crying and no one, not even the doctors, could figure out how to help. They had changed his formula several times. Now, Mom was told, “He’ll just have to grow out of it.” Mom showed great concern that if things weren’t taken care of soon, her son would be unbearable by the time he got to kindergarten. She felt she had to get a handle on the situation so he “wouldn’t always want things his own way.”

    My first thought was, “This is a perfect infant mental health case!”  My second thought was, “Oh, my gosh! These problems are so big and I’m so little! How will I ever be enough? I can’t possibly help in time to make a difference!”

    Like a ship off course, their future looked uncertain. Both Mom and I could see that without something changing, their ship was headed for an iceberg. Here she was, inviting me to get on board and help her navigate these waters, but I wasn’t sure that I could offer enough help to get them on course. I had a sinking feeling; this case seemed so complex. How would I know what to do?

    Mentors in my Pocket

    I have a habit of noticing, before visits, that I have my mentors in my pocket, and this served me well. I heard the voice of Bill Shafer: “Just breathe and center yourself. Be present.” Then the voice of Michael Trout, “All you need to do is to listen carefully to her story. It will tell you all you need to know.” Doug Davies: “Let’s just watch.” Deborah Weatherston chimed in, “It’s the relationship.” And then I remembered that I wasn’t alone with this work. I have a Reflective Supervision group with Joan Shirilla.

    Wrong Course Coordinates

    It was painful to listen to Mom’s struggle to understand her infant’s behaviors, but as I did, I realized that the map she had been provided was skewed. She described how the hospital nursery staff had labeled her baby on several occasions, even at good-bye, as “Stubborn.” She also remembered the pediatrician calling her infant “stubborn.” Not knowing much about babies, Mom took the experts at their word. Here she was, trying so hard to understand her baby and their journey together, but she had been given the wrong course coordinates.

    The Presence of the Baby

    Baby was present at our next visit. He was a handsome but frail-looking infant, with a head full of wispy hair. His clothes were carefully chosen and he appeared to be well cared for. He sat scrunched into an infant seat near his mother’s chair, and I felt a loneliness when I observed him attempting to bat at toys hanging on a rod in front of him. When I entered the room he stilled and stared. I didn’t see him reference his mother for support. After a time he grew fussy and Mom picked him up. But he had a hard time getting settled when his mother tried to hold and comfort him. I sensed that neither of them felt a sense of calming comfort in the interaction, with Mom juggling him into multiple positions to try to find just the right one.

    Many Stories Told

    With her baby in her arms, I heard more of their story — the unexpected nature of the pregnancy, their harrowing birth experience, and the challenges they faced at the hospital after the birth. Mom had sometimes dreamed about having a baby but thought that she never would become pregnant because of her endometriosis, and she had put the idea out of her mind. She went to the doctor after feeling unwell, thinking it was related to some illness, and tested positive for this pregnancy. She was considered high-risk due to numerous medical issues and was monitored closely. They expected Baby to be born prematurely and with special needs because Mom had to remain on certain medications throughout the pregnancy.

    Contractions at 26 weeks led to a period of bed rest for Mom, who remained fearful she couldn’t keep her baby inside to term. When the contractions came again, Baby was delivered by C-section at 36 weeks. There were a multitude of people in the room to observe the procedure. Mom related she believed that they were there because it was such a high- risk delivery, and that the staff thought that either Mom or Baby would die in the process. She was frightened about the procedure, worried that either she or her baby “wouldn’t make it”. When he was delivered, he was quiet, and Mom had a difficult time being reassured that he was alive.

    Mom and Baby stayed in the hospital for a few days. Mom had hoped to nurse, but she related that Baby only wanted to sleep and was not interested in her or the milk she had to offer. He often seemed “lazy” and wouldn’t open his mouth to eat. She told me the nurses all noticed what a stubborn baby he was, but one nurse accused Mom of underfeeding him and causing fussiness, so Baby’s feedings were taken from Mom for a night. Mom was distraught, worried her baby was starving, as he was not gaining weight like the hospital expected. His fussiness continued and nurses told Mom he was going to be trouble. They nicknamed him “Stubborn Baby” on the unit, per Mom, and said things like, “He’s going to be a stubborn one!”

    At his newborn doctor’s visit, Baby held one arm out straight and didn’t withdraw it like the doctor thought he should. To check his reflexes he “dropped him a little bit” and he pulled his arm in. Mom told me the doctor said that “he was just being stubborn” by not moving his arm as he had wanted him to, and that he was capable of bending it, so everything was fine.

    Daunting Challenges

    The challenges Mom faced at home were so daunting that she relied night and day on her own mother and father for help with infant care. Whenever he was awake, Baby cried all the time, and Mom couldn’t find a way to comfort him or discover what was wrong, even though she wracked her brain to think of every possibility. She had tried several different sleep locations, but Baby didn’t seem to like any of them. In fact, the baby had spent only one night at home since his birth. Mom didn’t feel like Baby preferred anyone special and, in fact, sometimes worried that Baby even “hated” her. Even the neighbor, who had several children of her own, noted that this baby was not like other babies.

    Mom made many assumptions about her baby’s behavior and temperament that showed me a bigger picture of the skewed map she was trying to follow. When Baby wouldn’t settle, Mom, Grandma and Grandpa would pass him around. When he would finally calm, they attributed it to his “liking” the person he was with at the time. Mom worried that Baby didn’t like her home, perhaps because of the dark interior and lack of windows in their tiny apartment. When Baby was fussy, he seemed to calm when they took a car ride to her parents’ larger country house. Mom attributed this to Baby knowing they were going to Grandma’s. Baby seemed to prefer holding his head to one side when he was in his infant seat. Mom tried to move his head around, so it wouldn’t become misshapen, but Baby was “stubborn” and kept repositioning himself, which Mom attributed to the same stubbornness he displayed at the doctor’s office.

    In trying to understand her infant, Mom attributed manipulative intentions to most of Baby’s infant actions and reflexes. Through it all, I sensed Mom caring deeply about Baby. She maintained a persistent intention to figure him out using the only template she knew.

    Watching and Wondering Together

    Together we watched Baby carefully, to see what we might learn from him about his difficulties. As we looked, I recalled Mom’s stressful experience of her high-risk pregnancy and the frightening birth. I wondered aloud what things might have been like for Baby during the birth and neonatal period, and how stressed he, too, must have felt. Mom began to think about how she and Baby both shared the terrifying birth experience and were both confused about their entrances — Baby into the big world, and Mom into the world of motherhood. Together, we noticed some of the same signals Mom had noticed in the past, and that Baby was now giving, that suggest a baby is stressed. We spent a long time just watching and wondering together. I tried not to be in a hurry or provide answers that Mom might not yet be ready to hear, despite my urge to give her every pamphlet I had in the trunk of my car. Following the voices of my mentors, I reminded myself that everything would unfold in time, and that this mother knew inside of her how to help her baby. She had the curiosity and the will to do it, if we could explore what was blocking her efforts.

    The Awakening

    At the next visit, which was the Plan of Service required by our CMH infant mental health program to decide what goal and interventions we would use, I walked into a different household. Mom and Baby were chatting together, showing joy and delight in one another’s company. Baby was happy and full of life, and so was Mom. “He hasn’t cried in two weeks!” He had been sleeping at home every night. Mom now saw her baby as loving her and preferring her above all others, and she saw herself as her baby’s protector and soother. Mom stated that she realized that all of the attributes she had been giving Baby were actually her misreading her baby’s signs of stress, and, as a mom, it was her job to protect her baby from stress. And so she was.

    Mom indicated that now, when she first notices Baby is getting tired, she picks him up and rocks him to sleep, because if she doesn’t, Baby only becomes more and more upset. Grandma was incredulous that Mom was able to tell what her baby needed, just by looking at him, but Mom stated, “I just know!” Mom shared many other triumphs when she successfully protected her baby from feeling over-stressed, and Baby’s changes in temperament and behavior that followed. In crowded stores she now carried Baby so he would feel secure in a strange and noisy place. Baby no longer cried on outings, would greet strangers who came up to him when he was in Mom’s arms, and would look people in the eye. It seems Mom now heard Baby’s cries as “I need you” rather than as “I hate you.”

    Maps for Sailing to Sunnier Climes

    As we were to start the “intervention” stage of our work together, Mom phoned to tell me she had been evicted from the apartment and had moved out of county. She thanked me for our time together. “Thank you so much for your help. Without this help I never would have known my Baby really loves me.” After only three encounters, I had to disembark. But just like making a small course correction at the beginning of a journey may lead a ship to make port in Tahiti instead of Antarctica, I am hopeful this dyad will be sailing to sunnier climes.

    Remembering back to how small and alone I felt at first, I feel so grateful for the maps I was given to guide my way through the mentorship of those who have sailed these seas. Because somehow, all of us together, we were enough.

  • Commentary: All at Sea: A Case Discussion

    Commentary: All at Sea: A Case Discussion

    Jan Proudfoot has given us a great gift – the affirmation of the power of relationship to affect growth and change through the story of a new mother struggling to respond to her baby who she described as strong willed, inconsolable, difficult to feed and unresponsive to people or playthings. Jan’s initial response to the referral was meaningful. She explained, “These problems are so big and I’m so little,” giving us an immediate window into her own feeling of vulnerability as she wondered if she would “know what to do.” She drew on experiences with mentors who had guided her so thoughtfully over many years. She was quietly present, watched and listened carefully, deeply affected by the stories she heard. Her capacity to be emotionally available to Mom and Baby, to witness their interactions and hold their relationship, were strategies that form the bedrock of an infant mental health service. Although in the “assessment and information gathering” phase, Jan’s presence provided a carefully crafted and powerful intervention. After listening intensely to Mom’s stories, she shifted ever so slightly to observe with Mom and wonder aloud about the baby’s experience. This was a carefully paced shift that fueled Mom’s capacity to begin to have empathy for her baby’s difficult entry into the world. Quiet, confident, and very seasoned, Jan worked without hurry, countering the press she felt to teach or to tell Mom what she should do.

    Mum's little boyAs I fell under the spell of the story, gently carried by Jan’s words, I wondered about parallel process, so beautifully illustrated here. Jan, worried about the complexity of the task and if she would know what to do; a new mother, worried about the tasks of motherhood and wondering if she knew how to care for her Baby. Similarly, Jan, observing and listening to Mom so that Mom would observe and listen to her Baby’s cues. Jan, guided in relating to Mom and Baby by the maps her mentors had given her over many years; a new mother, finding a map to guide her in relating to her Baby through her relationship with Jan. Jan nurturing and understanding Mom; Mom nurturing and understanding her Baby.

    Finally, I was enchanted by the use of metaphor. The “ship was off course;” Mom and Baby were “at sea.” Jan’s presence and relationship provided “a map” as Mom and Baby “sailed to sunnier climes.” Simple, yet enormously complex work. Thank you indeed for this great gift.

  • Musings on the work of Erna Furman: Supervising and “Being Felt With”

    Musings on the work of Erna Furman: Supervising and “Being Felt With”

    Originally published in the April/May 2005 Infant Crier, this article has been reprinted in MI-AIMH’s recent publication, Reflections from the Field: Celebrating 40 Years, Volume I (2017).

    To begin, I must confess to limited knowledge of the highly respected work of Erna Furman. Her wonderful writings about the lives of toddlers emerged from her psychoanalytic training with Anna Freud, as well as her intimate involvement alongside her husband in the development of the Hanna Perkins Therapeutic Nursery on the campus now known as Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland, Ohio. My familiarity with Mrs. Furman’s studies began with her seminal article “Mothers Must Be There To Be Left,” in the Psychoanalytic Study of the Child (1982). Later I read her book, Toddlers and Their Mothers: A Study in Early Personality Development (1992) and her earlier writings in The Therapeutic Nursery School: A Contribution to the Study and Treatment of Emotional Disturbances in Young Children, which was edited by her husband Robert A. Furman, M. D. and Anny Katan, M. D. (1969). Through these readings, I have a much richer understanding of how the toddler stage is negotiated, how primary caregivers help or hinder the process, and how these experiences, in turn, may profoundly impact one’s lifelong emotional health and personality structure.

    These “adolescents of babyhood” (who is it that first framed that marvelous synopsis of development?) can be perplexing and challenging, even in their most charming moments. Toddlerhood holds considerable conflict and much potential for its resolution. Through the mastery of bodily and emotional functioning, toddlers establish their ego strength. The failure or distortion of such mastery can stifle their capacity for autonomous action, set up deep ambivalence, enflame aggression and/or twist motivation/self-interest, leading to troubled inter-personal and intra-personal relatedness.

    As I reviewed what I held in memory of Erna Furman’s writings, pondering their potential significance to supervisory work, I was drawn back to the parallel processes so central to our relationship focus. Supervisors are usually two steps away from the relationship that grows between a mother (or father) and a baby. We do however experience directly the mentoring relationship with the clinician who is working with parent and baby. There are several parallel functions when we consider similarities between being a mother of a toddler, being the infant mental health or family support specialist or other family interventionist, and being a clinical supervisor. I will share my thoughts on one of those functions.

    A parent who has successfully cared for an infant is seldom prepared for the emotional landscape a toddler travels through. New home visitors rarely expect the intensity of emotion that awaits them on the other side of each front door. Neither can supervisors know beforehand what a supervisee will bring to a supervision session. In my early I.M.H. work, I remember clearly how very surprised I often was at the words and the affect I began to express in the reflective supervision offered to me. Each of these relationships potentially has the capacity to assist the less practiced of the pair to learn about the nature and array of feelings to be felt in this context. In truth, I believe the learning happens for both parties; each is engaged in a process of growing, if truly emotionally present to the other.

    Erna Furman wrote about “feeling and being felt with” as a critical opportunity for the toddler to be able to learn appropriate emotional regulation. I would suggest that this is also an essential component of reflective supervision. It is the responsibility of the “good enough mother” and the “good enough supervisor” to assure that the toddler or the home visitor has a genuine emotionally shared experience. For the toddler, the fully present mother or other trusted caregiver provides validation for the feelings within, help in labeling the particular feelings, respect for and acceptance of the essence of his feelings as well as an appreciation of the feelings as belonging to him. The mother serves also as a back-up container to hold the feelings when they may seem impossible for the toddler to control himself. Over time, the developing toddler will then learn to pay attention to his feelings, to use them wisely, and to express them in socially appropriate ways. “Being felt with” helps the toddler to create a repertoire of ways to cope with and regulate strong emotions, to not be overwhelmed by them or frightened of them.

    Many of the parents seen in our programs did not have sufficient experience with a fully present, trustworthy individual in their early development. Thus, there was no one to help them know their own feelings, to help effectively weave feelings into their daily lives, to manage their expression, to assist in learning to use their feelings for the benefit of themselves and/or others. The home visitor cannot undo all the harmful consequences of missing this guidance, of being absent a model for full emotional presence. But a home visitor who comes regularly and respectfully to a family’s home can listen thoughtfully and with empathy, can respond with care, effectively supporting a parent’s wish to love and protect his or her infant/toddler.

    “Being felt with” allows every human being to feel his or her feelings, to not have to resort to shutting down or drinking them away or perpetrating a hurtful act against another or closing oneself off to the realness of each moment. “Being felt with” allows one to trust one’s own feelings. It allows one to trust another, allows for depth and honesty in relationships. Being felt with makes us one with all humanity. Such is the state that permits each of us to reach out to others and to be truly empathic, compassionate. Being felt with also allows us to ask for help from others, to believe that we will be heard and will receive a response. Beyond any other task that we may ask a home visitor to tackle with a family, none is more important or potentially valuable than the act of being fully present, being able to offer the family the regular experience of “being felt with” through their shared relationship.

    Similarly, no responsibility of the supervisor, no experience for the supervisee is more significant to the effective development of the home visitor’s skills or personal growth than the regular time, place and opportunity for experiencing “being felt with” in reflective supervision. The inspiration to be fully human, to live deeply, with conviction and joy and purpose, flourishes within this emotional relatedness. Being fully in the present, being a feeling person, is a daily challenge in this world, to say the least. But what a magnificent goal for each of us, what a gift when we achieve it, for however short or long it lasts in our day. What a gift to us that Erna Furman so eloquently advocated for each toddler to be offered “feeling and being felt with.” May it inspire each of us every day.

  • The Intentionality of Diversity:  Reflections on the 2017 MI-AIMH Biennial Conference

    The Intentionality of Diversity: Reflections on the 2017 MI-AIMH Biennial Conference

    Rogers, Andrea, picture copyThis past May we celebrated the 40th anniversary of MI-AIMH at the 2017 MI-AIMH Biennial Conference in Kalamazoo. The conference title, “Integrating Mindfulness and Diversity in Practice: Nurturing Authentic Relationships with Infants, Young Children and Families,” included two buzzwords: “mindfulness” and “diversity.” These two words don’t always invoke positive feelings in me; I might even say they make me uncomfortable. I am a want-to-be middle-class African-American wife and mother supervising an infant mental health (IMH) program in southeast Michigan. Although I have wondered if people are uncomfortable around me because of my race, I have to admit that I am conflicted about my own feelings about mindfulness and diversity. I have thought about this discomfort many times during my life so I was surprised by the internal dialogue I experienced during the conferences many poignant sessions. I felt a myriad of emotions. At times I felt validated and motivated while at other times I felt exposed and vulnerable. I felt both hopeful and apprehensive.

    During the opening Selma Fraiberg Colloquium, I was blown away at learning how IMH has evolved in 40 years. Often I have felt a bit of distance with the origins of the IMH model. Selma, being a trailblazer and the creator of a new way of working with very young children and their families, birthed a movement in what I assumed was a suburban middle-class living room. I struggled with how this model could be effective in urban and rural poverty-stricken areas where there are so many risks besides the relationship. I hadn’t fully understood how IMH was designed for at-risk infants and families of all socio-economic levels. Michael Trout described a model that addresses many risk factors and offered a framework about how to think about our work. He talked about Selma’s attention to detail about what is seen, heard and felt. Considering how Selma taught us mindfulness without even calling it that, I thought about our responsibility to be mindful of the relationship we are working with as well as to be mindful about what we bring to our relationship with the family. Although we may not be able to identify with every person’s experience of gender, race, class and sexuality, we can be attuned and generous with our ability to be present and to hold their feelings when we consistently practice mindfulness.

    The next session that profoundly impacted me was Dr. Marva Lewis’ presentation, “Translating Culturally Valid Research into Evidence-Based Community Interventions: Successful Steps along the Nappy-Haired Road.” I had prickly feelings down my back and knots in my stomach just reading the title, which embodied so much of my anxiety about the concepts of mindfulness and diversity. I didn’t want my internal “secrets” and insecurities discussed in an open forum. I wasn’t ready. Just the words “nappy hair” reminded me of those times sitting between my mother’s knees, flinching at every brush stroke. Yet I feel that if I have a responsibility to bring awareness and understanding to issues of other races and socio-economic classes, as an African-American woman I also have a responsibility to expose my feelings about my race and culture. So even though the topic of nappy hair, which I have had all my life, wasn’t one I wanted out in the open, I was happy that Dr. Lewis offered affirming words and cited scientific research about the wonderful phenomena of hair. My tender-headed self was validated, but I also saw that people who looked nothing like me and with whom I thought had nothing in common have a similar tension about their hair. It was a leveling of the playing field.

    In the Gregory A. Proulx, PhD plenary address, Intentional Practice for Change: Mindfulness Supports Diversity, Inclusion and Equity Practice in Partnership with the Diversity-Informed Infant Mental Health Tenets, Kandace Thomas M.P.P., stated that it takes personal commitment, conscious effort, and intentional resource allocation to implement diversity, inclusion and equity principles into our spheres of practice. I am reminded how intentional and deliberate the mind and process has to be in order for mindfulness to take place. Consequently, it will take intention and deliberate efforts for our beloved IMH to fully be a diversity-informed practice. It’s a practice, to be sure, just like a doctor’s practice. It’s not an arrival — we don’t always get it right — but as Kandace stated, it’s a benchmark, a standard for us to strive for.

    I am returning from this conference with a more developed internal framework for mindfulness and diversity. It is not something that must necessarily educate others, but it is the lens with which I will look at myself and explore how my experiences impact my beliefs, attitudes and interactions. These are things I have to be aware of and I will strive to exemplify mindfulness of myself and others in my everyday interactions with clients, staff, families and administration. It is not a hat I can put on and take off. It must begin with the very first tenet of diversity-informed infant mental health, which is that self-awareness leads to better services for families. As a professional in this field, I feel the obligation to be self-reflecting and culturally informed across all-isms and phobias. Additionally, my commitment is to the families we serve, the systems we work within, and the policies that affect the most vulnerable.

    In the last session of the last day, the question was asked, “Why in 2017 are we still having these conversations?” But then she looked out at the audience, which included a new generation of African-American clinicians, and told them that they are the first generation of blacks born with all their rights intact. True words! So here we are, and a new dialogue and new responsibilities begin:

    Babies still need a voice.

    Native Americans are still being violated.

    Women are still not paid equally to men.

    African Americans still bear the burden racism.

    Hate crimes still happen.

    There are disparities in infant mortality due to race.

    There is still so much work to be done.

    Mindfulness and diversity: The saga — and the opportunities — continue.

     

  • Keeping the Therapist in Mind: Examining Diversity in the Reflective Process

    Keeping the Therapist in Mind: Examining Diversity in the Reflective Process

    INTRODUCTION

    Relationships are complex, as they form the foundation in regulating emotions and managing life’s stressors (Stroud, 2010; Weatherston & Tableman, 2015).  Within the working relationship of the clinician and the client, each brings their own set of histories, culture, and realities that influence the shaping of their lives. Nevertheless, in many instances, there is fear in discussing issues around the differences that make individuals and family systems unique, which can be harmful to both the therapeutic and supervisory relationship.  Racism, stereotypes, and inequality are consequences to living. These concepts need to be understood to assist the therapeutic relationship between the clinician and the client as well as the supervisory relationship between the supervisor and the supervisee (Stroud, 2010).

    Grandmother with daughter and granddaughter

    When considering the examination of diversity, the central task of the clinician is to become skilled in mindfulness (Shahmoon-Shanok & Stevenson, 2015). This opens the door to the multifaceted components within diversity as it pertains to understanding oneself and others. Plainly, becoming mindful leads to the exploration of the use of self and self-awareness through the reflective process (Ghosh Ippen, Norona, & Thomas, 2012). In ongoing reflective supervision, the clinician is able to make considerations regarding internal biases through the development of a holding environment or containment, which promotes the function of cooperative problem solving, open communication, mutual respect, regulation of self, and emotional safety (Stroud, 2010). The parallel process, in an effective holding environment, assists in building secure relationships as the clinician is able to “hold” the diverse narratives of the family system because the clinician is being “held” by their supervisor (Weatherston & Tableman, 2015).

    In order to best exemplify diversity within the reflective process, narratives of the lead presenters from the Keeping the Therapist in Mind: Examining Diversity in the Reflective Process workshop, as featured at the 2017 MI-AIMH conference, will be used. The distinct experience in each narrative provides insight into the development of vulnerability, professional use of self, and the practice of a culturally informed approach. The compiled narratives are likened to a type of journey in that they illustrate the evolution of the presenters’ self-awareness as they give voice to their experiences as minorities in the field of Infant Mental Health.

    KRISTINA’S JOURNEY TOWARD DIVERSITY

    I will start my journey with a moment of truthful confession. I have always had a passion for diversity, and often I have been compelled to speak about my experiences. However, when speaking about the topic of diversity and not so pleasant experiences, it is easy to become identified as the “angry black woman.” This is a title I never wanted to possess, nor do I ever want associated with my character. Thus, speaking out on such matters is a source of pleasure and pain as I am thrilled to share my experience, but uncertain of the unmet consequence that could be attached to my reputation. I was invited to participate in the planning committee for the 2017 MI-AIMH conference by my group reflective supervisor. With some apprehension, I agreed to participate and, to my surprise, I had an opportunity like none other. I found myself listening to others, being open to new ideas, and having the courage to say how I felt about controversial topics such as diversity. I was able to share my experience and perspective of diversity in the context of both the workplace and within the community. I had no idea that by attending this one committee meeting I would be set on a path to discuss diversity more freely within the practice of Infant Mental Health (IMH). In addition, I felt motivated to reflect upon how society views me as well as how I view myself.

    The journey of being a minority clinician and participating in the reflective supervision process has been a labor of love. For the last seventeen years, I have worked in the field of social work and have taken on various roles such as a child protective service (CPS) worker and an investigator for a foster care agency. In these past nine years, I have occupied the position of an Infant Mental Health (IMH) therapist for three different agencies. My employment history has been wide-ranging as it has taken on different forms. I have worked on an all-African American team; I have worked as the only African American on the team; I have worked on an African-American female team; and currently I am working on a multi-cultural female team.

    When I began working in the field of social work, I was on an African-American child protective service (CPS) team in New Jersey. Interestingly, I did not think about diversity or the lack thereof in the workplace. I felt at home and had a great deal of pride being on a predominately black team. The concept of a mostly black team almost seemed unheard of in most professional communities. Needless to say, I was excited to announce that my peers, supervisor, case manager supervisor, and district office manager were all black. It was wonderful working with a talented group of professionals who were high achieving and ambitious. They mirrored my most industrious and academic qualities.

    After completing my master’s degree in Michigan, I sought employment as a therapist. I landed at an agency where I was a part of the first all-African-American female team in Infant Mental Health (IMH) at that time. I did not have a real concept of what diversity looked like in IMH until I attended my first training out of the agency. Quickly, I learned that I was in the minority. For the first time, I was not sure how I would fit into a world that was different from what I was accustomed to in the workplace. Coincidently, the very first IMH training I attended was on diversity. I remember sitting with my fellow peers during the training. When instructed by the presenter to separate into groups with the other attendees, I worried and thought, “Oh no, I have to be the representative for all black people.” The participants in my group were filled with questions and wonderings about my experience as a black IMH clinician. I was in an uncomfortable position of wanting to share my experience while knowing I could not speak on behalf of every black therapist. I felt the pressure to share as well as to avoid the stigma of “the angry black woman.”

    Throughout the years, numerous experiences have taught me that good reflective supervision is invaluable. I wish I only had stories to tell about how wonderful and uplifting reflective supervision has been without one single “misstep,” but that would not be truthful, nor would it be helpful. I feel strongly that it is important to embrace the good and the bad in order to have true reflection of yourself, supervisors, peers, and the families we serve. Fortunately, I have more positive experiences with reflective supervision than negative. Conversely, the few missteps were equally valuable and helped me understand what I wanted as well as needed out of reflective supervision. This enabled me to find my voice so that I might also advocate for myself when necessary.

    SIGNIFICANCE OF THE PATH

    I was honored to have the opportunity to present for the first time at the MI-AIMH 40th Biannual Conference on Diversity and Mindfulness. I was even more proud to be a part of the process to help choose this much anticipated topic. That being said, I also felt it was important to provide relevant, helpful, and honest information to all of those who attended the workshop. This presentation meant so much to all of the presenters involved in the development. With such high regard for this opportunity, there was a tremendous amount of pressure being on a team that was predominately comprised of African-American women, especially since we were expected to represent Starfish Family Services well at the MI-AIMH conference. I felt the most impactful part of my presentation was sharing my experiences as an African-American home visitor. I made sure to convey that we often take for granted that our work is triggering. The importance of reflecting with your supervisor, receiving opportunities to grow, and being vulnerable during times that may seem unbearable in the moment are key in this field.

    KASSANDRA’S PASSAGE THROUGH AWARENESS

    College had always been stimulating. My professors were challenging, and my classmates made the time bearable with quirky and off-putting remarks. On some days, I enjoyed just being the observer in the room as I watched the exchanges from professor to student and vice versa. On one particular day, I remember arriving to class when, in the middle of the discussion, my classmate stated, “it’s hard being a social worker in an all-black school.” She continued to explain her position as she said, “They are all just so loud and can be very aggressive.” Class did not go so well after that occurred. She was a young, white student who was learning how to become a professional, just like the rest of us. Her words fell on an entire class of approximately 40 or so people who attended the university from assorted backgrounds. The tension was high in the room as my classmates of all of colors began to take on awkward behavioral stances due to the unfortunate blunder. My white friend sat across from me in class. Upon hearing her words, I saw how he instinctively rolled his eyes and then dropped his head into his hands.

    I knew I was upset, but there was something more I was feeling, and I could not place it by name. Yes, I was bothered that she minimized her intern experience to negative black generalizations or stereotypes. Of course I felt like she had reinforced stigmas, and triggered my inner dialogue of being forever misunderstood as a minority. But there was something more, and it was “driving me up a wall” as I felt it in my body. The sensation in my throat was like choked-up tears, and it stayed with me until I was all talked out. It was sadness, embarrassment, and shame. I was haunted by my classmate’s watery eyes. I could tell that she had no idea that she was on her way to being schooled on every societal offense between whites and blacks. The class went from a silent emotional uproar to an intellectual overhaul that sparked a contentious debate on privilege and power. When it was over, she was humiliated, and I could feel her sadness and shame. Was this compassion that I was experiencing or, perhaps, empathy? Why? How was it that suddenly on my drive back home that my anger and frustration ceased, and I was moved to tears on her behalf?

    I would have no substantive meaning associated with the term mindfulness until three years later. I was a fresh black therapist and I sat across from my supervisor in what she said was reflective supervision. She was white, with blondish, long hair that was conveniently tied into a bun, and a small piercing accompanied her nose. She would nurse her coffee mugs as I talked in a room filled with pictures that were affirming. I could tell she liked skeletons and pirates as the trinkets were eye-catchingly placed on the shelf. I would look at them in moments when she asked hard questions or when I needed a mental break from the conversation at hand. I began to trust her, but not immediately. She did something that I thought was remarkable. My supervisor noticed me; I mean quite literally that she paid attention to all that I did in that meaningful window of time. I was perplexed at how she conducted this study of my movements, my tone of voice, gestures, and so forth, and she brought them to my awareness in connection to my feelings. Slowly, I began this journey of self-reflection through the mechanism coined mindfulness.

    Through observing my supervisor “noticing” me, I found ways to slow down and find stillness as a means of reducing my distractions to feel more intensely. Moreover, I was struck by how this skill brought two people together who were so vastly different and, coincidently, the “holding” of these differences brought regulation and trust to our relationship. One day, she looked at me and said, “I wonder what it is like for you to see your client who is young, beautiful, and black struggle in this way. I am wondering what comes up for you?” She was referring to my teen mom who had been affected by a long history of trauma, societal stigma, and oppression. I let the tears roll down my cheeks after a drawn-out pause of quiet. Although our histories were different, I saw myself in my client, and we — my supervisor and I — pieced away the bits that were chomping at my heart so I could return the favor in the upcoming sessions with my client.

    Years later, I found myself taking on additional responsibilities and transitioned to a different team that would seek to impact health outcomes by addressing mental health concerns through a collaborative effort known as integrated healthcare. I walked into the office with my colleague. She was black, unapologetically black, with fair skin and light brown, short, loosely curled hair. She widened her brown eyes as she asked me to collaborate on a project for diversity and mindfulness. I placed my brown hand across my puzzled face as I sat to ponder. I did not know what I had to share or offer specifically, but I knew I wanted to gift other clinicians with the experience of self-awareness, understanding, compassion, and containment. These concepts, modeled in supervision, provided an effective foundation to explore relationship, as mindfulness proved to be the active agent in creating transformative change in the reflective process. As I recollected on my college experience, I became very much aware that what happened to my classmate could have happened to me as well, and probably has happened. The reality is that everyone maintains biases that affect how one thinks, behaves, and/or feels. I wanted to address these areas to enhance the clinical experience of practitioners so they can advance their skill level on all levels of this work.

    A TRAIL LESS TRAVELED

    On a micro level, practitioners working with individuals and families, the purpose of the designed presentation for diversity and mindfulness was clear and practical. It was to analyze one’s use of self with clients through creating a space in which individuals could reflect upon their own sense of awareness. As clinicians assess and intervene with the family system, they bring their own unique set of “luggage” with them into the clinician-to-client relationship. In using the term luggage, it is to denote the history of the clinician (e.g., family background, generational trauma, or previous abuse), as well as his or her comprehensive identity or individuality (e.g., culture, values, gender, unconscious bias, demographics, or insecurities) that is “carried” into the therapeutic space.

    This luggage that is carried into the therapeutic space, affects and shapes the clinical lens of how or what is assessed within the family system. Perhaps a female clinician has an unconscious bias toward men due to an unresolved trauma in childhood, the representation of men in her identified culture, or the perspective of men within her family culture of origin. One might consider how she could assess and intervene with a patriarchal family in which the father is highly involved in services. To ignore these issues, specifically the diverse set of experiences, qualities, characteristics, and histories of the clinician, is likened to ignoring the uniqueness of the families that are served. How do we see the families we work with if we do not take the opportunity to see ourselves? Thusly, it is an act of vulnerability and, consequently, courage, to repudiate the engagement of such ideologies that promote diluting or numbing the diversity of the clinician and the client.

    The practice on a macro level has a similar appeal. Clinicians seeking to advance policies or systemic change may need to consider how their “luggage” is activating their motivations in their change efforts. Moreover, what is in their luggage might have them sitting on their hands rather than being a part of active change. As observed during many discussions, privilege is a prevailing theme that mutes participants and possible stakeholders within the problem-solving process. Individuals who may feel that it is not their “battle” or concern may neglect influencing or affecting policy or systemic change because of their skewed view that this is not their “burden.” Some involved in the change process may feel inclined to use an “expert in the field model” by using a minority representative to speak on the behalf of an identified community because other members feel inept and uninformed to advocate on relevant matters. Such methods are both faulty and inappropriate as a single person cannot fully represent the innumerable qualities, beliefs, and traits that are found within any given community. When the practitioner is able to assess their luggage, they can reflect upon what inhibits them to act as well as what moves them toward action. The first step is awareness and self-reflection so that practitioners, whether advocates, policy writers, or clinicians, can show up to the proverbial table for discussion and be prepared to be effective change agents.

    UNPACKACKING DOWN THE ROAD

     

    I had no idea that in giving a presentation so much would be returned back as a gift from the audience. I was aware that this presentation was heavy. It was heavy emotionally, conceptually, theoretically, and, overall it was too heavy to hold. Walking into this presentation as a presenter, I knew I would be confronted with a crowd of my coworkers and colleagues who have worked tirelessly in this field. I knew I might see some familiar faces who were my mentors, and I reveled in their accomplishments. Knowing all of this made me extremely frightened. Because what I was implicitly aware of was that I would be before a majority white crowd, and I was the black girl talking about diversity.

    “What if I said something offensive?” I thought to myself. I reflected upon my classmate from college and thought, “This could be my blunder moment.” The anxiety that I held was overwhelming as I criticized every inch and piece of the work to be presented. I was judging and rehearsing each issue as a means to ensure perfection. Something unconscious was at work, but all I could feel was the weight and ache of its heaviness. So I did what I knew to do and what I had been trained to do, I gave it to my supervisors for them to hold too. I sat down with them. One looked at me first and said, “I wonder why this particular presentation is affecting you so much?” I thought the answer was obvious. Understandably, I did not want to look like a babbling buffoon in front of a crowd of people. A second probe was being formulated. He peered through his glasses and with folded arms against his chest he said, “I am just wondering what it must be like for you to be black and up before this white crowd of people.” I pretended not to understand, and said, “Whatever do you mean?” He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I do not know, but I am thinking about all stereotypes that blacks encounter, such as if they can speak well or not.” He voiced the weight that I had been holding. I wiped the free flowing water from my face as the connection of my intense drive for perfection was to thwart all possible stereotypes that could be derived during this presentation. Stereotypes that were used against me that I kept tightly packed in my luggage. On that day, it was too heavy for me to carry alone, so I unpacked before an intimate crowd of two white superiors so I could go on to do the work in front of a larger crowd.

    I was awestruck as I met a crowd of people who showed up to advance toward a conversation of transparency and an eagerness for change in the status quo. There was acknowledgement of grief, misunderstandings, and hurt that paved a way to healing, strength, and empowerment. The underlying theme persisted, and was exemplified in the fishbowl experience that our clients have a fundamental need to be seen, heard, and understood. Nevertheless, the work of mindful self-reflection begins with the clinician first as the catalyst for exploration. Also, quite possibly, it is paired with a healthy dose of tears and tissue.

    CHY’LEETZIA’S FIRST STEPS IN VULNERABILITY

    In order to get a clear understanding of my desire to embrace diversity as a reflective supervisor, one would have to go back to the beginning of my Infant Mental Health (IMH) career. I was the only African-American Infant Mental Health Therapist within an agency providing IMH services.  I had one significant situation in which I went into a home to provide services to a Caucasian family.  This family consisted of an 18-year-old mom and a 2-year-old girl.  This young mom and her boyfriend were separated due to domestic violence and Child Protective Service (CPS) involvement.  Although father and mother were not together, dad was able to make his presence felt because mom and baby lived in his aunt’s home. As I continued to visit the home, I sensed increasing tension. So finally I discussed with mom the things that I had noticed and she said, “He doesn’t want you here because you are black, but I don’t have a problem with black people so I want you to stay.” I did not know what to do.  Fear overtook me.  I immediately went to my supervisor.  She was supportive in helping me develop a safety plan for this family and myself. However, there was no invitation that I am able to recognize, then or now, to explore my reflections on the situation at all.  When I brought this family up in the next reflective supervision, there was a courteous, “How are you and how’s it going?” Still, I sensed that I should be courteous back and offer a polite response, “Things are going well and we are meeting in the community.”  It did not take long for me to stop discussing this family within supervision.

    Eventually, I left that mental health agency and came to Starfish Family Services where I encountered a similar situation.  I attempted to dance around the topic with my new reflective supervisor, providing her with facts about safety and discussing the family dynamic.  This supervisor allowed me to skate around the reflective process for a while. Then, one day, she told me that she knew that I was not ready to share my real feelings and thoughts about working with this family. At the same time, she provided me with the assurance that she was strong enough to handle them whenever I was ready. The “dam” broke, and I ended up giving more than what I had in my awareness as well as more than I had anticipated giving.  I felt so free! It reinforced the notion that “an alliance for the purpose of reflection requires a respectful collaborative stance and process, an attention to emotional content and co-regulation, and an agreement to establish a working relationship that is safe”  (Watson, Harrison, Hennes, & Harris, 2016, p. 16).

    Fast forward, I became the first Integrated Infant Mental Health Supervisor at Starfish Family Services.  My team is breaking ground by providing behavioral health consultation through an IMH lens in obstetrics and gynecology (OB/GYN) clinics to physicians, as well as providing Infant Mental Health therapy to families. I was overwhelmed, honored, and afraid to be in this position. Also, I felt inadequate as a new reflective supervisor. I found myself considering ways that would be more effective while providing reflective supervision. In addition, I recognized that I was a willing participant in allowing crucial cultural information to go unseen.  Similarly, I allowed my team to gloss over noted similarities and differences that impacted their ability to “see” the family. My team recognized my inability to see them. How do I know?  Because they all began to reschedule or make up excuses as to why they could not come to their reflective supervision.  My feelings of inadequacy could not win against my desire for my team to be seen so that they could fully see the families they serve.

    I began to actively seek out ways to see them as individuals. I began by giving them recognition regarding what makes them unique as clinicians.  Exploring their differences helped them provide an alternate view for families. This created a safe space for them to “be seen” so that they in turn could allow themselves to “see” the whole family. According to Schafer (2007), “the supervisor’s role is not so much to instruct what to do as  it is to help the home visitor reach a deeper awareness of the emotional forces impinging upon her as she struggles to uncover, understand and move with the patterns of change emerging within the interactions” (p. 13). Consequently, bringing attention to components of the clinician’s identity or “seeing” the clinician is seemingly an integral piece of the work within reflective supervision, as she or he may be struggling to recognize or understand elements related to their identity or diversity.

    JOURNEYING BEYOND

    Most agencies providing IMH services cannot afford to hire one staff to provide individual administrative supervision and another staff to provide individual reflective supervision. Therefore, it is necessary that the supervisor wear both the administrative and reflective hat.  Learning to balance these supervisory roles is problematic for both the supervisor and supervisee. The same person who writes your evaluation is the same person with whom you are expected to explore some of your deepest emotions.  With this in mind, it is important to note that “supervision is inherently an unequal relationship” (Center for Substance abuse treatment, 2009, p. 108). In short, there is a power differential at play here. This is made clear as Stroud (2010) indicates, “the holder of the power in the relationship (in this case, the supervisor) should open the door to discussions of power, privilege, and prejudice” (p. 48). The supervisor should recognize this power differential, as ignoring it could create strain on the supervisory relationship. When the power differential is recognized, it gives power to the clinician to recognize the issues of power and privilege that could be affecting the clinician-to-client relationship. Simply put, the clinician is readily apt to “see” the diversity of the family, and to entreat upon deeper reflection within supervision.

    An effective and supportive professional relationship is at the heart of reflective supervision. As a relationship-based approach to professional development, how the supervision and the quality of the relationship develop between the supervisee and supervisor is of the utmost importance (Weatherston & Tableman, 2015). More pointedly, “it is the supervisor’s responsibility to initiate discussions of differences in race, ethnicity, gender, religion, socioeconomic status, sexual orientation, or disability regarding both clinical work with clients and supervisory and team relationships. This promotes the acceptance of diversity and cultural issues as appropriate topics of discussion and allows the supervisor the opportunity to model culturally competent behaviors” (Center for Substance Abuse Treatment, 2009, p. 89).

    WHEN TWO PATHS MEET

    Schafer (2007) states that “supervision can be the most vibrant hour of the week for a supervisor and the most longed for and valued time for a supervisee” (p. 4). In line with this position, it was my goal to offer a containing space for reflective supervision so that both the supervisee and I would be present. It has been my continued desire that my team feel that their reflective supervision is an appointment worth keeping. In order to accomplish this goal, I had to explore my own limitations surrounding diversity in the supervisory process. In addition, I was tasked to reflect upon my own uneasiness with vulnerability, which blocked me from allowing others to be vulnerable in reflective supervision.  Allowing those vulnerable moments, in which I had to admit “I don’t have all the answers” and “I make mistakes,” helped balance the power differential and allowed for the reflective process to be more easily entreated. This is what I attempted to convey during our presentation at the 2017 MI-AMH conference. So in the theme of demonstrating vulnerability, I offer you my reflections of the presentation.

    As I went through the presentation slides, I felt an enormous amount of trepidation. I had this recurring thought, “What are you doing up here?”  I felt so small in this big room trying to convey what I was sure everyone else in the room already knew. I attempted to move on to the next few slides that addressed the importance of recognizing that trust takes time, allowing room to address barriers that stop connections in the reflective supervision process and, finally, creating opportunities for connection. The ultimate culmination came to the following: VULNERABILTY. Beginning the fishbowl presentation, I kept thinking, “I wonder will they get it?” The fishbowl experience would allow me, as the supervisor, to do a live supervision with one of my willing supervisees while the audience observed the process and provided reflective feedback. I wondered if the audience understood that I was not demonstrating my expertise, but, rather, that I was attempting to express the importance of being present in spite of distractions. I attempted to tune out the audience and focus on my supervisee in the fishbowl presentation.

    My supervisee’s presentation was supposed to be about how including dads into IMH services presents diversity challenges that are not expected. As she and I embarked on this journey together, I kept thinking, “Just listen and be present.”  As I began to listen, I noticed that the presentation began to veer off from where we thought it might go. My body began to react in ways that I did not expect.  I became afraid.  I felt that I had inadvertently exposed her in my attempt to be vulnerable. We reached a moment and the only word I could say was, “Wow.” I saw her.  I saw her tears. We reached a point that led back to her. Once I recognized my supervisee in the work and the attributes that she was grappling with as a clinician, she was able to make the connection to her feelings while working with her presented family. In seeing herself, my supervisee was then able to more clearly “see” her family as well.

    CONCLUSION

    Diversity takes on many forms, and often times it is difficult to face what makes individuals different. The shared narratives were used to expose the ongoing need for vulnerability in order to understand the intricate nature of diversity within relationship and the reflective process. Mindfulness is a practice that can aid the therapeutic process as a means to gather deeper self-reflection and understanding. With the use of mindfulness, gains are made within the reflective process as the supervisor and clinician acknowledge and explore the essential diversity components related to their identity or individuality. It is through this self-reflection and exploration that a deep level of self-awareness is achieved. Trust and empathy are needed to build a strong therapeutic and supervisory relationship, and when the clinician is comprehensively seen, with diversity held in mind, the families we serve are seen as well.

    REFERENCES

    Center for Substance Abuse Treatment. (2009). Clinical Supervision and Professional Development of the Substance Abuse Counselor: Treatment Improvement Protocol (TIP) Series 52. (DHHS Publication No. (SMA) 09-4435). Rockville, MD: Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration.

    Ippen, C. G., Norona, C. R., Thomas, K. (2012). From tenet to practice: Putting diversity-informed services into action. Zero to Three, 33(2), 23-28.

    Schafer, W.M. (2007). Models and domains in supervision and their relationship to professional development. Zero to Three, 28(3), 10-16.

    Shahmoon-Shanok, R., & Stevenson, H. C. (2015). Calmness fosters compassionate connections: Integrating mindfulness to support diverse parents, their young children, and the providers who serve them. Zero to Three, 35(3), 18-30.

    Stroud, B. (2010). Honoring diversity through a deeper reflection: increasing cultural understanding within the reflection process. Zero to Three, 31(2), 46-50.

    Watson, C., Harrison, M., Hennes, J., & Harris, M. (2016). Revealing the space between. Zero to Three, 37(3), 14-21.

    Weatherston, D., & Tableman, B. (2015). Infant mental health services: Supporting competencies/reducing risks (3rd ed.). Southgate, MI: Michigan Association for Infant Mental Health.

  • For African-American Families, a Daily Task to Combat Negative Stereotypes about Hair

    For African-American Families, a Daily Task to Combat Negative Stereotypes about Hair

    The following article is reprinted with permission from the author. The article was originally published in The Conversation on September 1, 2016.

    Mothers across all cultures may worry about being judged for their child’s appearance. But for African-American mothers, a child’s hairstyle can be especially anxiety-inducing. If they don’t properly care for it, many fear they are violating community norms. So they fashion it to appear less curled and unruly, sometimes even using chemical straightening products on kids as young as 36 months old.

    Failure to do so can lead to intense backlash.

    In 2014, a Huffington Post headline announced, “Beyoncé responds to Blue Ivy hair drama with a perm.”

    The article described the uproar over the decision of singer Beyoncé Knowles and her husband, Jay-Z, to leave their daughter Blue Ivy’s hair in a natural, curly state. Some called the couple negligent for not grooming their daughter’s hair. Others accused them of “cruelty” for leaving her hair “nappy.” A petition even circulated calling Blue Ivy’s hair “disturbing.”

    More recently, African-American Olympic gold medalist Gabby Douglas faced a barrage of insults about her hair on social media during the 2016 Olympic Games in Rio. Many complaints focused on her hair looking “unkempt.”

    Why is hair such a hot-button issue in the African-American community? And what if hair weren’t a source of tension and shame, but instead served as an opportunity for African-American parents to bond with their kids?

    For two decades, these questions have formed the basis of my research. They’re complicated ones – deeply ingrained in negative stereotypes – but I’ve been able to show how a simple daily task can help heal wounds caused by centuries of oppression.

    Four hundred years of trauma

    Smiling
    Smiling

    As a direct descendant of enslaved Africans who grew up in an African-American community, I have fond memories of sitting between my mother’s legs as a young child and getting my hair combed. For me, the daily ritual of hair combing was a special mother-daughter bonding time.

    But while parents across all cultures comb their children’s hair, my research during graduate school revealed how, for African-American parents, the task is uniquely layered in emotionally charged, negative stereotypes about hair.

    The origins of these attitudes are over 400 years old, deeply rooted in the psychological trauma of slavery. Part of the denigration of people deemed “property” meant vilifying all physical characteristics associated with their status, from dark skin color to thick, tightly curled hair – a stark contrast to the straight, thin hair of their oppressors. These debilitating stereotypes were merely one arrow in a quiver of psychological warfare used to subjugate the millions of enslaved men and women who outnumbered their owners.

    Yet the negative intergenerational messages about hair still resonate today. Ironically, although these stereotypes about hair were originally perpetrated by whites, negative reactions to African features are also held by many African-Americans.

     

    They’ve laid the psychological foundation for today’s “hair wars” within African-American communities: straight hair – deemed “good” hair – versus tightly curled, coily hair (“nappy” or “bad”). In many ways, it’s also related to the tendency to value light skin over dark skin.

    Psychologists refer to this phenomenonas “internalized oppression,” or identification with the oppressor. A billion-dollar beauty industry that includes straight-haired wigs and skin-bleaching creams speaks to the legacy of this historical trauma.

    Mothers who have internalized these historical stereotypes about what constitutes “good” and “bad” hair may express these attitudes in how they interact with their child while combing the child’s hair. For many parent-child relationships, hair remains a flashpoint for conflict and shame.

    Flipping a negative into a positive

    As a psychologist, I worry about parents who possess these subconscious beliefs about their child’s dark skin color or tightly curled hair – that these beliefs will be expressed in acceptance or rejection of children.

    Numerous studies demonstrate that strong, supportive bonds between a parent and child – what’s called secure attachment – are required for infants to grow into healthy adults. This begins with the unconditional acceptance of infants from birth and continues with consistent encouragement and support in the child’s first months and years.

    Hair combing interaction can play a key role in establishing secure attachments.

    Findings from my research suggest that this simple task, which takes only around 10 minutes per day, facilitates some core parenting behaviors that lead to more secure attachments: positive verbal interaction, loving physical touch and responsive listening. (For example, research has shown just how important healthy physical touch is to both human development and survival.)

    By studying videotaped interactions of mothers and daughters from a variety of income groups, I’ve been able to show how a young child can feel secure or insecure during the everyday routine of hair combing. In some instances mothers would laugh, invite the child to participate in the activity and praise the playful antics of the child’s pretend play. In these interactions, emotional skills were reinforced in the child that led to self-confidence and a strong gender identity, while laying the groundwork for healthy adult interpersonal relationships.

    On the other hand, some children would be forced to sit stoically as their mother jerked the comb through their hair, their cringing faces reflecting the fear and pain they experienced. Perhaps the parents simply didn’t enjoy the task; or the hair elicited unconscious feelings of shame that begin during their childhood.

    When I founded the Center for Natural Connections (CNC) at Tulane University in 2004, I hoped to promote the positive benefits of daily hair combing as an opportunity for parents to connect with their children, culture and community.

    The CNC has translated findings from 15 years of research into cost-effective, community-based interventions. All the programs – which include Gentle Grooming for Hospitalized Children, Parent Café & Miranda’s Green Hair Puppet Show, and the Talk, Touch & Listen While Combing Hair parent support group – promote positive attitudes toward hair combing as an opportunity for caregivers to connect to their child.

    The programs enhance parental self-efficacy, emotion recognition, conflict resolution and social support among parents. With seminars being held in community centers, it’s a psychologically safe place for parents of color to disrupt a legacy of trauma and create a new, positive narrative for future generations.

    By recognizing the toxic stereotypes associated with their hair and skin color and learning from a community of fellow parents, African-American parents can begin to live out the African proverb “It takes village to raise a child.”

  • Substance Abuse is at Epidemic Proportions: Perspectives from an Early Head Start Worker

    Substance Abuse is at Epidemic Proportions: Perspectives from an Early Head Start Worker

    My name is Wintra Cain. In case you were wondering, I was born in a blizzard, that’s how I got my name. I am currently employed as an Early Childhood Specialist for the Early Head Start program in Hillsdale County, Michigan. I have a Bachelor of Science degree in Psychology with an Infant Mental Health endorsement, level II. I have been working as a home-visitor with children and their families for the past 16 years. I am very grateful for the topic of discussion in this month’s Infant Crier. Substance abuse is very near and dear to my heart.

    Brent was attending a party at a home he had never been to before. He had just finished “smoking a boat” of meth, in the early morning hours of June 3rd when he encountered a 24 year old man, Zao, whom he had never met before. It was said in court that Zao had been “tweaking-out” on meth and hadn’t slept for the previous 3 nights. That morning around 4 a.m., Zao pulled out a 45 caliber handgun, pointed it at Brent and shot him in the chest. The bullet pierced Brent’s heart and lung, exited his back and traveled through the dining room wall by which he was standing. The police never found the bullet.

    This is not a story about a family on my caseload. This is my story. All of this took place while I was sleeping warmly in my bed. Brent was my brother.

    My life was turned upside-down for a period of time. No one in my family had any awareness that my brother was involved in using hard drugs. I knew he had used marijuana more than a time or two, but never in a million years would I have imagined him using methamphetamine. I was aware, however, that he had previously suffered from an addiction to alcohol which seemed to become solidified while serving in the Marine Corps. Brent came to our mother one day pleading for help. My mom shared with me that she had been praying for that day for quite some time. She willingly and lovingly agreed to take money out of her shallow retirement account in order to fund my brother’s stay at a rehabilitation clinic in Florida. He successfully graduated from the clinic and as far as we knew, he had stopped using alcohol. Unbeknownst to us, somewhere along the way, he must have picked up a fondness for another kind of high.

    My brother was very intelligent. He graduated with a degree in computer science, with honors, although he would have never told you that. He was sensitive, young, handsome and most importantly he was kind. He would always be the first to lend a hand, or some money, or literally the boots off his own two feet, as one of his friends shared with me. Brent would pretty much do anything for anybody. He had so much life left to live.

    I openly share this story in hopes that someone may benefit from it. As a home-visitor, I have had the privilege of working with numerous families. Many of which have borne the burden and the ramifications of substance abuse.  What I have learned is that substance abuse does not discriminate and has devastating consequences, consequences that reach far beyond those who have been directly impacted.

    I have observed a most significant increase in the use and abuse of substances in the families I serve on my Early Head Start caseload. Each of these families, of which I am currently serving, report having been directly or indirectly affected by the use or abuse of substances, ranging from the seemingly innocent use of alcohol, to the controversial use of marijuana, to the abuse of street and prescription drugs.

    This past summer, while I was at a home-visit, a relative in the home overdosed in the bathroom while I was outside working with the children. Yet another family I serve, a foster family, tragically lost the life of the baby’s biological mother because of a heroin overdose. A third young mother on my caseload, battling substance abuse, voluntarily terminated her rights to her very young children. This past spring, a fourth mother had her children removed from her home, due to substance abuse issues. She is currently working toward reunification. A fifth parent I serve lost her cousin, just last week, due to an overdose. The list continues to grow.

    I would like to share with you a little about Ann, a 38 year old mother, on my caseload. She came to me in September 2016. On my first phone call with Ann, she stated she had been staying at a local domestic violence shelter. She had been in an abusive relationship with her unborn baby’s father and was 33 weeks pregnant by him. She had no home, no job and no transportation. She told me she had been praying to God for help and that God had answered her prayers with my phone call. I could hear the enthusiasm in her voice via the phone receiver.

    She shared with me that she was the mother of 3 children, Ava, a girl age 12, Greg, a boy age 11 and Chase, a boy age 4. Ann did not have custody of them. Ava and Greg lived with their father’s mother and Chase lived with his father’s grandmother. Ava’s and Greg’s father was in a sobriety house up north and Chase’s father was in prison due to substance abuse and domestic violence charges. Ann relayed she was eager to secure permanent housing so that she might be able to get Chase back. She stated she was especially concerned about Chase because his great grandmother was elderly and not able to care for him properly.

    As I was already feeling overwhelmed by the enormity of Ann’s needs, at our first visit, Ann admitted to her own history with substance abuse. She stated she had previously used Heroin, OxyContin and Vicodin, but had been clean for more than 11 months. She stated she was no longer interested in the unhealthy lifestyle she had been living and quit using substances on her own, but with God as her guide. She remained steadfast in her beliefs and her ability to move beyond her previous life of substance abuse and dysfunctional relationships with men. She stated “Everyone I know, friends and family are abusing substances, so I had to cut ties”.

    In October, Ann mentioned having thoughts of giving her unborn baby up for adoption, due to her lack of housing. She stated “I can’t envision taking my baby with me from home to home, place to place, living on floors and couches.” We spent a few visits talking about her thoughts and feelings regarding the possibility of adoption, after which she decided to keep her baby. She stated “I realized that all this baby really needs is me.”

    Mother and daugherAnn gave birth to a healthy baby girl, Kay, in November 2016. I have observed Ann to be warm, responsive and nurturing toward Kay. Kay, thus far, seems to be developing typically for her age. Ann reports that Kay brings so much happiness to her life. Ann is attending a local church which has afforded her the opportunity to build a new circle of support. Additionally, she has established a rapport with the people from the domestic violence shelter, in which she has been residing since September. She is currently on the cusp of securing housing, largely due to her persistence and determination, as well as the assistance of Community Action Agency’s housing specialist. Ann most recently obtained a job at a local fast food restaurant. She voiced her excitement to me during a visit. She told me she never thought she would be able to work with money again, due to a blemish on her criminal record.

    Ann meets with me regularly as we continue to work on building a rapport with one another. She seems thoroughly interested in the program. She openly shares with me bits and pieces of her childhood history. She confided in me that she felt like her mother never really loved her.

    It’s amazing what this young woman has been able to accomplish. When she gets knocked down, she stands back up. She seems to be overcoming hurdle after hurdle, obstacle after obstacle. I am in awe of her. She has refused to give up and keeps on fighting, fighting for a better life, for her and for her children. She doesn’t have much, but what she does have is faith and I have faith in her.

    It seems many people mistakenly think that those who use drugs lack morals or values or are just “bad” people. Addiction affects people from all walks of life and is a very complex issue. Drugs change brain chemistry which makes quitting very difficult. With proper treatment, however, people can recover and are able to lead productive lives.

    Prevention is the key. As Infant Mental Health (IMH) professionals, given our experience and expertise, we can be an invaluable tool in working with children and their families. Children’s earliest interactions occur within the family. As IMH professionals, working in the home, we are on the frontlines. We are given the opportunity and have the ability to help facilitate a strong bond between parent and child, increase parental involvement in their child’s life, help parents learn the importance of positive discipline, setting clear and consistent boundaries, as well as help in the early identification of developmental or mental health concerns.

    However, further, more-extensive training is needed to address the issue of substance abuse, as well as having greater access to prevention and treatment interventions and facilities. Increased funding is imperative in order to serve all populations of people. Universal services are warranted here. If communities and families are able to intervene early, mental health disorders such as substance abuse might be addressed before the end result is tragedy.

    Strangely, in the midst of writing this article, something unbelievable happened. I received notice that my sister-in-law had been attacked at a restaurant in a nearby town. It was dinner time, around 5 p.m. and in broad daylight. As she entered the front door of the restaurant, an unknown man rapidly approached her and began to assault her, punching her in the face and neck in an attempt to retrieve her purse she was wearing across her body. Fortunately, the employees at the restaurant acted quickly, without hesitation and came to her defense and were able to fend-off her attacker. She was later informed by the police that this man was a frequent offender and he too had been high on meth. Thankfully, she received only minor physical injuries to her face and neck, but I am certain the reverberations of this incident will undoubtedly last a lifetime.

    We can no longer afford to “turn a blind-eye” to the life or death consequences of substance abuse. Substance abuse has, by far, reached epidemic proportions and is taking its toll on our communities. It’s time to take a long, hard, look at ourselves and our communities and ask how we might make a difference. As an Infant Mental Health professional, I am acutely aware that human connection has the capacity to change the trajectory of a life. In thinking about Ann, I remain hopeful that even the smallest interactions amongst people can hold power and meaning and can be transformative.

    “We never touch people so lightly that we do not leave a trace.”- Peggy Tabor Millin


    Response from a Supervisor: Kathryn Sims, M.A., LMSW, IMH-E®

    Wintra Cain, an Early Childhood Specialist with Early Head Start, has described an experience in a client family’s life that parallels an experience in her personal life. Substance abuse permeates our society. It knows no socio-economic boundaries. No boundaries of race, religion, or culture…Few of us are untouched by the substance abuse epidemic.

    As substance abuse has increased in the general population, it has become prevalent in many families involved in in-home infant mental health services. Wintra has shared with us how she used her experience to help her understand what her client, “Ann” experienced. Wintra knows there can be ups and downs; however, she is there to support “Ann” during these up times and will be there to catch this rising star if she stumbles.

    For Wintra, substance abuse touched her heart. She looked through a very personal set of glasses colored by her brother’s experience and death; and another set colored by substance related experiences with other families on her case list; and another set colored by her sister-in-law’s experience being attacked by someone who was on drugs. We all wear emotionally and experience-based glasses. Do they bring things in to focus? Are they rose colored blocking out other colors? Do they dim our vision so we cannot truly see the family sitting on the floor with us? When these thoughts come to mind, share them with your reflective supervisor.

    We cannot “turn a blind-eye” to the life and death consequences of substance abuse. We cannot “turn a blind-eye” to any of the experiences that clear or cloud our vision. Some are so internal that they are second nature and we are surprised when a parent or child shows us how things are for them. We get our “come uppence” when families show us another side, another angle, or another view. Our perspective is widened.

    Substance abuse has touched Wintra in many ways. She leaves us wondering not only about how substance abuse may have touched us, but what else touches us and changes our perspective consciously or unconsciously.

    As a reflective supervisor, I give new therapists a multi-sided dice. Each side represents aspects of any particular family. No matter from what angle one looks at a dice, one sees only what is facing the front. On a 24 sided dice, more than 12 sides are not visible, but are part of the story. “Ann” revealed that she had a substance use history – another angle came into view. “Ann” revealed that she had been clean for 11 months-another angle came into view. “Ann” revealed that she had faith –another angle came into view. And so her story goes…with Wintra beside her family.

  • Perinatal Substance Use: An Update and Reflection on the Importance of Relationship

    Perinatal Substance Use: An Update and Reflection on the Importance of Relationship

    The mother-baby dyad is a beautiful yet vulnerable miracle of humanity that has tremendous potential to shape how infants will grow to view themselves, their relationships and the world. While birth and mothering are joyful events, substance use and addiction can complicate the time surrounding pregnancy and birth with guilt, shame and fear and may disrupt this dyadic process of attachment.1 This article: a) briefly discusses perinatal substance use, with a focus on prenatal opiate exposure and the potentially resulting neonatal abstinence syndrome (NAS), and b) suggests a broad relationship-based approach be embraced by care settings across the perinatal continuum, from inpatient and outpatient clinical areas to community support resources.

    The Recent Landscape 

    Perinatal Substance Use Disorder (PSUD) is a pervasive disease process with far-reaching consequences for women, children, families and communities. Nearly 3 decades ago, maternal crack/cocaine use and the term crack babies led the headlines, with potentially one in ten women between 15 and 30 years of age using cocaine regularly.2  Additionally, Schafer describes, with the behaviors of an infant who is withdrawing from cocaine and a mother who is suffering the addiction, a cycle that is set into motion of “interactional difficulties which would give even the most experienced mother grave problems.”2

    More recently, a significant increase in perinatal opiate dependence and addiction has occurred, either through prescribed or illegally obtained painkillers or narcotics. According to the 2015 National Survey on Drug Use & Health, substance use in pregnancy occurs commonly with 5.3% of pregnant women reporting using “any illicit drug,” 4.1% reporting using marijuana, 1.1% reporting using prescription opiates or painkillers, 0.3% reporting using cocaine and 0.2% reporting using heroin, although these self-reports are likely to be underestimates because of the stigma associated with drug use in pregnancy.3 Of all these drug exposures, newborns who are opiate exposed are most likely to have birth complications, withdrawal and lengthy hospital stays. Specifically, these newborns often experience neonatal abstinence syndrome (NAS), which is a grouping of central nervous, respiratory and digestive system responses to drug withdrawal upon the infant’s separation from the mother’s blood supply at birth.4 Symptoms include extreme irritability; poor sleep; tremors; hypertonia and frantic, uncoordinated sucking. The physiologic symptoms of NAS can also include sneezing, emesis, diarrhea, tachypnea, nasal stuffiness and possible seizures.4

    The way the professional (doctor, nurse, home visitor, human services worker) treats the mother impacts how she feels about herself and affects her ability to care for her baby.

    From 2000 to 2009, NAS in the United States increased from 1.20 to 3.39 per 1000 hospital births; more recent data suggest a five-fold increase in NAS nationally to nearly 6 per 1000 hospital births, or about one birth every twenty-five minutes experiencing NAS.3

    In Michigan, between 2000 and 2009, there were a total of 1509 infants hospitalized with a diagnosis of NAS. Furthermore, the rate of NAS among Michigan infants increased dramatically “from 41.2 to 289 per 100,000 live births from 2000 to 2009, representing a 601% increase.”5

    Regional perinatal care providers and addiction specialists agree, anecdotally, that current trends have continued with staggering increases in NAS care provided across the state.

    NAS and Attachment Considerations

    NAS can appear as quickly as 24 hours after birth with heroin exposure or as late as 72 to 96 hours after birth with opiate, methadone, or buprenorphine exposure.4 With the onset of NAS, infants are treated in the hospital with close monitoring, comfort measures, supportive care and, perhaps most importantly, with pharmacologic therapy such as methadone or morphine. This lengthy, costly and often uncomfortable process of weaning can demand weeks to months of care in the hospital and likely in a neonatal intensive care unit (NICU) or specialized inpatient pediatric care unit.6

    With the complexities of drug use and PSUD in new mothers, coupled with the separation and fear associated with the NAS clinical course, it is not surprising that many authors note the potential for insecure attachment and relationship challenges between mothers and their infants.1, 7, 8  Attachment within the maternal-infant dyad can be impacted by multiple factors, such as the mother’s past relationship experiences, the mother’s feelings about being a mom, how the mother was cared for as an infant and the mother’s feelings about her birth experience. Therefore, it is clear that drug use and PSUD are severe risk factors to maternal functioning, infant physical and emotional health and the attachment process.

    Hope and New Beginnings 

    Women experiencing PSUD have a chronic brain disease that is well supported in the literature, where relapse is common and expected.9 However, McLellan et al. note that successful treatment with PSUD is comparable to, or better than, compliance with treatment plans for other chronic conditions such as hypertension, diabetes and asthma. Pregnancy and birth promote hope and new beginnings; these elements may play a role in better treatment outcomes during pregnancy and the early postpartum period. As such, a mother experiencing PSUD once explained that she wanted a future for her baby that was different from her own reality; additionally, she stated that her motivation for change was greatest in pregnancy and during her child’s infancy. Therefore, the perinatal and newborn period must be leveraged with optimal care and support for those affected by PSUD and NAS. This care should be provided nonjudgmentally, with compassion and empathy.

    baby011_close upHealth professionals are generally in agreement on the need for physical treatment of NAS and addiction treatment for mothers; likewise, social service entities are clear on the need to ensure immediate protection and safety for newborns. However, what is often lacking in the maternal-infant continuum of care from hospital and healthcare settings to community agencies is a common language and paradigm that seeks to initiate an intentional parallel process of relationship-based care provided to the mother, so as to galvanize the mother to connect and optimally care for her baby. Simply stated, the way the professional (doctor, nurse, home visitor, human services worker) treats the mother impacts how she feels about herself and affects her ability to care for her baby. “It is only when a mother’s emotional needs are considered and supported, that she will be able to attend to her infant’s emotional needs.”10 By broadening the infant mental health (IMH) practice framework across care settings and disciplines, as well as throughout transitions of care (ie, from inpatient to home), a consistent approach to relationship-based care could be realized and used to strengthen the recovery capital of the mother.

    One example of this type of multidisciplinary approach is in Northern Michigan, where IMH, health department, hospital, human service, intermediate school-based, tribal and foster care/adoption entities have formed to create an IMH Training Consortium. This consortium works to provide staff and supervisors across the region with training opportunities 3 times each year that focus on relationship-based principles and attachment concepts that can be applied from beginner to specialist. Further, hospital and health department nurses, alongside child protection workers and other agency representatives, are learning the impact each professional can have using IMH principles of parallel process, holding and relationship-based care, even in one home visit or an 8-hour hospital shift.

    In practice, this IMH-informed approach to care has strengthened the way mothers and infants experiencing NAS are cared for in one local hospital. When a baby who is in the hospital with NAS has been stabilized medically in the NICU, the mother and baby are transferred to a unit with private rooms and rooming-in for parents to care for their infant while being mentored and supported by hospital staff. While the baby is medically managed, nurses and social workers are also intentionally nurturing the mother with education on NAS, support, encouragement and meals. This is an example of parallel process in a hospital setting, and it provides an opportunity to strengthen the relationship within the mother-baby dyad. Furthermore, it has been found that the duration and severity of NAS can be reduced through maternal skin-to-skin contact and breastfeeding.11 By helping the mother learn her baby’s cues and encouraging her to be present as the most important primary caregiver in the hospital, she may begin to see what a difference she can make in her baby’s recovery.

    In closing, collaborative, cross-disciplinary IMH informed training and practice frameworks that are steeped in relationship-based principles can benefit mothers and babies affected by PSUD and NAS. The way a mother experiencing PSUD is treated and her view of herself as being a capable (or incapable) mom will impact how her relationship and attachment with her baby develops. Even in a highly clinical hospital or specialized community setting, care providers can benefit from relationship-based education, so as to better encourage and promote mothers’ beliefs that they themselves are their babies’ best and most important medicine.


    References

    1. Bromberg SR, Frankel KA. Perinatal support in substance abuse: the requirements of relationship and reflection. Zero to Three. 2009;29:22-27.
    2. Schafer W. Cocaine: How it works, how it affects pregnancy, intrauterine development and the neonate. The Infant Crier. 1989; CD-ROM:352-354.
    3. National Institute on Drug Abuse. Dramatic increases in maternal opioid use and neonatal abstinence syndrome [Infographic]. 2015. https://www.drugabuse.gov/related-topics/trends-statistics/infographics/dramatic-increases-in-maternal-opioid-useneonatal-abstinence-syndrome. Accessed Feb. 15, 2017.
    4. Hudak M, Tan R. Neonatal drug withdrawal. Pediatrics. 2012;129:e540-e560.
    5. Michigan Department of Community Health. Neonatal drug withdrawal among Michigan Infants [Fact sheet]. 2011. www.michigan.gov/documents/mdch/NWS_FactSheet_final_6.25.13_431275_7.pdf. Accessed Feb. 16, 2017.
    6. Patrick SW, Schumacher RE, Benneyworth BD, Krans EE, McAllister JM, Davis MM. Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome and associated health care expenditures: United States, 2000-2009. JAMA. 2012;307:1934-1940.
    7. Parolin M, Simonelli A. Attachment theory and maternal drug addiction: the contribution to parenting interventions. Front Psychiatry. 2016;7:152.
    8. Porreca A, DePalo F, Simonelli A, Capra N. Attachment representations and early interactions in drug addicted mothers: a case study of four women with distinct adult attachment interview classifications. Front Psychol. 2016;7:346.
    9. McLellen AT, Lewis DC, O’Brien CP, Kleber HD. Drug dependence, a chronic medical illness: Implications for treatment, insurance and outcomes evaluation. JAMA. 200;284:1689-1695.
    10. Shirilla J. Personal correspondence.
    11. Knopf A. Experts: Baby’s mother is the best treatment for NAS. (2016). Child Adol Psych Update. 2016;18:1-4.
  • Reflections on MI-AIMH’s History

    Reflections on MI-AIMH’s History

    In 1970, there were no infant mental health home visitors in community mental health (CMH) agencies in Michigan. But there was a growing body of information about infancy that developed during the 1960s and a growing number of professionals across the country seeking to apply this information in various fields of human services. In Michigan, there was Selma Fraiberg, a social worker and lay analyst, establishing the Child Development Project, an atypical part of the University of Michigan Department of Psychiatry. In 1972, she received a federal grant to translate to mothers and infants “who needed to find each other” what she had learned from blind babies and their parents.

    Infant mental health home visiting in Michigan—as well as the Michigan Association for Infant Mental Health (MI-AIMH)—evolved from a simple request by Selma Fraiberg to the director of the Department of Mental Health in 1972. She wanted grant funds for graduate students. The director, a psychiatrist, was sufficiently intrigued to send me (as the staff member responsible for a small amount of federal funds for innovative services) to investigate. Appreciating the warmth and commitment of my hosts and convinced by their intriguing (if somewhat mysterious) videotapes, I returned to suggest that, in lieu of graduate students who most likely would not stay in Michigan, the Department fund training of staff already employed by Michigan community mental agencies, so that this new intervention could become part of the CMH service continuum. Selma’s staff overcame her reluctance.

    And so, in the fall of 1973, six clinicians from CMH agencies began bi-weekly trips to Ann Arbor to meet with Edna Adelson. Group 1 included two supervisors of children’s services, mid-level clinicians, and one newly minted professional. They observed a normally-attached infant and parent and were encouraged to share what they were learning about normal and aberrant attachment with their community colleagues. Seeking to understand the essence of the intervention, they revolted, demanding more clarity. They enrolled their first service families, having received from their public health colleagues referrals that were more problematic (according to Selma) than any served by the Child Development Project. They asked for, and received, a second year of training (1974–1975) from Vivian Shapiro.

    The next year, staff from another six agencies stepped forward for training and in 1978– 1979, an additional 11 trainees. We offered a unique training opportunity with no idea where it would lead. We just asked the participants to go back and put the knowledge and skills they were gaining into practice.

    With the loss of federal funding (newly contingent on an experimental/control design), in 1980 Selma closed the Child Development Project and departed for San Francisco General Hospital. Barry Wright and William Schafer stepped up as trainers. The initiation of a small state appropriation for prevention projects (sponsored by Representative Joe Young, Sr. in response to lobbying by Beth Leeson from the Mental Health Association in Michigan) provided grant funds to underwrite staff in additional CMH agencies.

    Over time, a series of state decisions institutionalized infant mental health home visiting, moving sites from project status to an integral part of CMH programming for children:

    • In 1986, Director Patrick Babcock determined that after three years, satisfactory projects would shift to ongoing funding for CMH agencies
    • In 1995, specifications for infant mental health home visiting were incorporated into the Medicaid Manual
    • In 2009, infant mental health home visitors were required to achieve MI-AIMH Endorsement at Level II (Level III preferred)

    Michigan Association for Infant Mental Health

    A significant factor in the development, maintenance and expansion of infant mental health principles and practice has been the presence and actions of the Michigan Association for Infant Mental Health.

    Happy baby with globe,isolated on a white background.

    MI-AIMH (then known as MAIMH) owes its existence to an obscure official at the University of Michigan who insisted that the first conference could not be held without an organizational sponsor. So, the first and second group of community-based clinicians, who had completed their training at Selma Fraiberg’s Child Development Project at the University of Michigan but wanted to share their excitement, created MAIMH. In a spirit of optimism and bravado, they named the conference “The first annual…” T. Barry Brazelton was the featured speaker and 800 people attended from all over the country (there were then no competing opportunities).

    The conference was the group’s second organized effort to carry out Selma’s dictum to “share what they were learning about mothers and babies with their colleagues.” (The success of the first effort—presentations by Edna Adelson and Vivian Shapiro in the basement conference room of the Ann Arbor Bank—led to the decision to undertake the broader effort.)

    And so was formed the first Board, with Michael Trout as President. For the first six years, Alice Carter (an infant mental health specialist in Washtenaw County from the first group of trainees) successfully planned and organized the annual conference, drawing over a thousand attendees in the second and third years.

    Struggling with organizational issues, MAIMH was discovered by academicians Hiram Fitzgerald (Michigan State University), Robert Boger (Wayne State University) and Thomas Horner (University of Michigan) who joined the Board. MAIMH gratefully accepted ownership of the Infant Mental Health Journal, which was created in 1980 and initially edited by Jack Stack, MD, from Gratiot County. Michael Trout became involved in the organization of the International Association for Infant Mental Health which morphed into the World Association (1992). Chapters were formed in metro Detroit and elsewhere in Michigan. Quarterly meetings for infant mental health home visitors were initiated, managed by Pat Rhea (Livingston CMH) and Sandra Greenwood (North Central CMH). MAIMH (later named MI-AIMH) issued its first publications and organized a video library.

    In 1982, Hiram Fitzgerald moved from board member to part-time Executive Officer, providing an address and space— initially in his office—for clerical support (Judy Reynolds Karandjeff, Dolores Fitzgerald, Suzie Pavick and Melanie Smith). From the beginning, MI-AIMH has emphasized publications, organizing information and sharing insights with others. The existence of MI-AIMH—providing a home for isolated practitioners, enhancing practice, creating credibility through its conferences and publications and demystifying the infant mental health approach—has been a significant factor in supporting infant mental health home visiting through the growth and development of the state program. MI-AIMH has uniquely encouraged grass roots practitioners to write of their experiences, to train and mentor others, to manage and grow a professional organization, to develop an Endorsement® process and to spawn a national organization, the Alliance for Infant Mental Health®. We await with anticipation its accomplishments in the next forty years!