September 11 will live forever in our collective hearts and minds. It’s hard to believe it’s been over 2 decades. Like many of you, I remember where I stood when I learned about the lives lost on that day. I thought that since it exemplifies such a significant day of remembering, I would take some time for recollecting and reminiscing as well.
Part of writing a book requires a dedication and acknowledgement section. The task requires intention and devotion, specifically to those whose work, relationship, mentorship, or experience have transformed us. So, I’m taking the next few weeks to reminisce about the amazing people and experiences that shaped my book and the stories within it. I’m breaking down different parts of my dedication and acknowledgement section. What follows depicts a story board of experiences that have shaped my work. I hope you enjoy it.
Section One – The Dedication
First, I had to learn the difference between a dedication section and an acknowledgement section of a book. Thankfully, my editor patiently educated me; and, I got to work devoting my book to the folks who’ve most impacted the work I do today – the dedication. Then, I set off to acknowledge those who’ve shaped my journey – the acknowledgement. Certainly, this page of the book, these portions, were the hardest to write. Below is my dedication:
To the children and families who have allowed me the honor of hearing their stories. Thank you for being the most amazing teachers. I hold your stories in my heart; especially, my sweet, freckle-faced, friend whose only goal was to simply “get messy” – I hope you’re thriving in the world – making messes and feeling loved.
The first part of my dedication bestows my honor and gratitude to families with whom I’ve worked over the past 25 years. We’ve grown together and they have trusted me to hold their stories, their confidences, their worries, fears, and frustrations. Due to the nature of working with trauma, that means that stories are complicated with grief, shame, and sadness as well. But also, stories of hope. The work of a psychologist means creating holding spaces for individuals and families to muck through tumultuous times with a wise guide. I’ve learned, through this work, about humanity and myself. Because families trust my knowledge and our relationship, growth and change is possible. And due to their commitment and dedication to bettering themselves, insights, hope, and lessons are learned. Therapy represents tough work with ups and downs. Dedicating my book to the families who’ve laid their stories in my lap showed how important our relationship is to me. I truly hold their stories in my heart.
The second part of my dedication honors one of my first-ever clients. She (K) will always hold a special place in my heart. K was a young child, almost four, in the foster system when she began to work with me. She suffered many types of abuse and neglect. We created a treatment goal to “get messy” because she experienced harm every time she made a mess. Terror showed in her eyes when she thought about spilling things, getting dirty, making messes, or being clumsy. So, we got to work on that. Over time, she watched me make messes with awe and keen observation. Together, we’d clean things up and, as I shrugged my shoulders saying, “Oh well, messes get made. It’s ok to make messes, especially when you’re little.” Or, “Everyone makes messes, sometimes getting messy is even fun.” I would spread paint around paper, accidently spill my water, knock over blocks, or bring in dirt to make mud pies. Over time, K began to experiment with mess-making too. I partnered with her foster mom to make sure that messes at home were met with “Oh well, I guess we’ll clean that up.” Or, “It’s ok to make mistakes in our home.” One day, K stuck her finger in the paint I was smearing around, reached up, and touched my nose with paint. I did the same to her. We looked in the mirror at our green and blue noses and giggled. We looked silly. And messy. Eventually, we made mud pies together, planted flowers, fell on purpose, spilled rice and cleaned it up. We reveled in lots of play-do, paint, and coloring outside of the lines.
I think of K quite often. I truly hope she’s out in the world making messes and feeling loved. I hope she has a beautiful garden where she gets to sink her hands into mud and remembers the important work she embraced.
Next week, onto the acknowledgement section. Until then friends, write back and tell me how you’re making messes in the world.
And if you’re interested in purchasing my book, you can do so here. Or, I’d love to come and speak to your organization about the importance of understanding how trauma presents in children.
