Jeff Levy, LCSW
(originally posted on Branching Out; The Live Oak Blog, April 2017)

​I was talking with a colleague who recently completed her graduate degree in counseling.  We were discussing one of her cases—a young man who had experienced considerable trauma as a teenager.  Her client knew he had experienced the trauma, but didn’t have clear memories around it.  She was concerned about how much she needed to delve into his traumatic experiences in order to help him heal.
 
My colleague had taken a trauma course in graduate school, and said that it was one of her favorite classes.  Some of the content in the course, all of which seemed current and relevant, included the study of the neurophysiology of trauma and the impact of trauma on neurodevelopment.

Jeff Levy, LCSW
(originally posted on Branching Out: The Live Oak Blog, and Linked In, September 2016)

News reports, radio, and the internet had been highlighting a recent sent to incoming undergraduates from the administration at The University of Chicago (U of C). Among other things, the letter states that the University does “not condone the creation of intellectual ‘safe spaces’ where individuals can retreat from ideas and perspectives at odds with their own.” It may be useful for all of us to further consider the concepts of safety and safe spaces as they manifest in the world, in therapy and in the classroom.
 
I am an enormous proponent of safety. In fact, it’s at the foundation of my work as a social worker, psychotherapist and as an educator. I believe that growth can only occur when enough safety has been established to allow us to experience discomfort. And sitting with the tension of discomfort is what challenges us to examine ideas, thoughts, feelings, and ways we have been moving through the world. If we don’t feel safe, our energy is diverted away from change and toward self-protection. It’s virtually impossible to change when we are afraid.

Jeff Levy, LCSW
(originally posted on Branching Out; The Live Oak Blog, and Linked In, August 2016)

More and more I hear people asking for trigger warnings when there is a chance something someone may say or do will evoke emotional pain. This is happening on college campuses where students are asking faculty to provide warnings about difficult classroom material, as well as in mental health organizations, where clinicians are asking colleagues to provide warnings before talking about a difficult case. Innumerable articles have been written that either support or challenge the idea of trigger warnings.
 
It makes sense to be warned about potential pain however, on an everyday basis in our own lives and in the lives of our clients, there is often no warning about the trauma or violence that we might experience. Trauma informed practice may not be about proactively and explicitly predicting all possible painful experiences in order to prepare for them or avoid them. Instead, it may be about acknowledging our inability to do such predicting. It is then incumbent upon us to respond with emotional presence, compassion and sensitivity when we find ourselves, our clients, or our students in a place of pain or anguish.

Jeff Levy, LCSW
(originally posted on Branching Out: The Live Oak Blog, December 2015)

Last week I finished teaching a trauma course for students pursuing their graduate degree in social work. More than any other time in the 30 years I’ve been teaching has it been more difficult to balance what has been happening in the world with what I am teaching in the classroom.
 
I’ve wondered if it’s because the class I teach is a trauma class, but then I remind myself that never before in the history of my teaching has so much worldwide pain been so accessible to all of us. And then I think of the reason I chose to be a social worker. I don’t wish to surround myself with pain, but then again, there is a certain opportunity that comes with being present to our own, and to another’s, pain.