Resilience and Coping as Moderators of Stress-Related Growth in Asians and AAPIs During COVID-19

Stacey Diane Arañez Litam, Seungbin Oh, Catherine Chang

 

This exploratory study examined the extent to which coping, resilience, experiences of subtle and blatant racism, and ethnic identity predicted stress-related growth in a national convenience sample of Asians and Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders (AAPIs; N = 326) who experienced COVID-19–related racial discrimination. Our analysis indicated participants with higher levels of coping, resilience, experiences of subtle and blatant racism, and ethnic identity were significantly more likely to cultivate higher levels of stress-related growth. Coping strategies such as self-blame, religion, humor, venting, substance use, denial, and behavioral disengagement significantly moderated the relationship between experiences of racism and stress-related growth. Notably, participants in the study who used mental health services following COVID-19 reported significantly higher levels of racial discrimination, resilience, coping, and stress-related growth compared to Asians and AAPIs who did not use professional mental health services. Mental health professionals are called to utilize culturally sensitive treatment modalities and challenge traditional Western notions that frame coping responses from an individualistic worldview.

Keywords: Asian, Asian American, COVID-19, racial discrimination, stress-related growth

 

Asians and Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders (AAPIs) represent vulnerable ethnic groups that may present with higher rates of mental health distress during COVID-19. Following the global outbreak, rates of discrimination, harassment, and violence toward Asians and AAPIs have substantially increased (Congressional Asian Pacific American Caucus, 2020; Jeung & Nham, 2020). The rise of COVID-19–fueled racism directed toward Asians and AAPI groups, especially individuals who phenotypically appear East Asian, has deleterious effects on their mental health and wellness (Litam, 2020; Litam & Oh, in press, 2020; Wen et al., 2020).

Although Asians who reside in the United States and AAPI groups are both affected by COVID-19–related racial discrimination, mental health professionals must recognize the important distinctions and challenges that exist between Asian internationals and Asian Americans (Anandavalli et al., 2020; Sue et al., 2019). Professional counselors must also consider the vast heterogeneity that characterizes Asian and AAPI ethnic subgroups (Budiman & Ruiz, 2021; Chan & Litam, 2021). Although an extensive overview of the differences between Asians and AAPI ethnic subgroups was beyond the purview of this study, mental health professionals are called to examine how the intersection of client identities (e.g., international status, nationality, ethnic identity, acculturative status, colonization history) may influence the ways in which COVID-19 racial discrimination affects Asian and AAPI clients (Chan & Litam, 2021; Litam, 2020). For the purpose of contributing to the scant literature on the effects of COVID-19 on Asian and AAPI communities, the current study assesses a national convenience sample of Asians and AAPI groups who reported discrimination experiences following the pandemic. Aggregating these distinct populations was not intended to overlook the vast heterogeneity that exists across ethnic subgroups nor to invalidate the unique challenges faced by Asian and AAPI individuals who reside in the United States. Rather, the present study combined Asian and AAPI populations to ascertain a more collective understanding of the ways in which the greater community may be affected by COVID-19–related racial discrimination.

Effects of Racial Discrimination on Asian and AAPI Mental Health
     Extant research illuminated how perceived racial discrimination among Asian and AAPI communities has adverse effects on overall mental health, coping responses, and wellness. Asians and AAPIs who faced race-based discrimination reported higher levels of psychological distress, substance use, anxiety, depression, and suicidal ideation (Choi et al., 2020; Gee et al., 2007; Hwang & Goto, 2008; Le & Ahn, 2011; Leong et al., 2013). Experiences of race-related stress in Asians and AAPIs were also associated with negative outcomes related to well-being (Iwamoto & Liu, 2010; Mossakowski, 2003), self-esteem (Liang & Fassinger, 2008), and social connectedness (Wei et al., 2012). Although the importance of understanding the effects of COVID-19–related racial discrimination on the mental health of Asians and AAPIs has been established (Asmundson & Taylor, 2020; Chan & Litam, 2021; Litam, 2020), a paucity of empirical investigations examines the mental health effects of pandemic-related discrimination among Asians and AAPIs across the life span (Litam & Oh, in press).

Ethnic Identity
     Ethnic identity is the quality of an individual’s affiliation with their ethnic group and includes a sense of belongingness, self-identification, and attitudes toward one’s group (Phinney, 1990). Phinney (1992) outlined four developmental stages based on high and low levels of exploration and commitment. Whereas exploration includes activities and behaviors undertaken to understand the role of one’s ethnicity or race in one’s identity, commitment refers to the affirmation, sense of connection, and clarity about how one’s ethnic or racial identity fits into one’s life and self-concept (Phinney, 1992). Taken together, the two dimensions of exploration and commitment form four statuses of ethnic and/or racial identity development: diffused (low exploration, low commitment), foreclosed (low exploration, high commitment), moratorium (high exploration, low commitment), and achieved (high exploration, high commitment; Erikson, 1968).

The mixed effect of ethnic identity in the relationship between racial discrimination experiences and well-being has been noted across earlier studies. On one hand, existing research has noted that Asians and AAPIs who cultivated strong ethnic identities were more likely to maintain a positive sense of psychological well-being, reported a greater sense of belongingness to their ethnic communities, and responded with greater resilience when racial discrimination occurred (Lee, 2003; Lee & Davis, 2000; Lee & Yoo, 2004; Litam & Oh, in press; Phinney, 2003; Yip & Fuligni, 2002). In the United States, AAPIs with a strong sense of ethnic identity reported a better quality of life and greater levels of spousal support and harmony (Lieber et al., 2001). In one study with 187 Chinese and Chinese Americans, strong ethnic identity moderated the relationship between experiences of COVID-19 discrimination and levels of depression (Litam & Oh, 2020). Levels of exploration and commitment may additionally influence whether ethnic identity buffers or exacerbates well-being among Asians and AAPIs who experience racial discrimination. According to a meta-analysis of 51 studies, Yip and colleagues (2019) asserted that individuals high in exploration reported more negative mental health and riskier health behavior outcomes following experiences of racial discrimination. Conversely, ethnic identity was a protective factor for individuals with high levels of commitment following racial discrimination (Yip et al., 2019).

The moderating effects of ethnic identity on Asian and AAPI mental health may be framed within the context of social identity theory (Tajfel & Turner, 1979) and self-categorization theory (Turner et al., 1987). According to social identity theory (Tajfel & Turner, 1979), individuals are members of many social groups with whom they may identify (e.g., religion, race, ethnicity, gender). Once individuals have determined their social identities, they become invested in maintaining and enhancing their self-concept (Tajfel & Turner, 1979). Social identity theory therefore predicts that individuals who center their identities are better equipped to cope with identity threats to protect their overall self-concept (Tajfel & Turner, 1979). Through the lens of this theory, individuals who strongly identify with their Asian or AAPI identities may be better positioned to engage in coping strategies that buffer the harmful impact of ethnic or racial discrimination.

Self-categorization theory builds on social identity theory by recognizing that individuals can identify with several social groups simultaneously and that some social identities become more psychologically salient than others (Turner et al., 1987). When ethnic identity becomes salient and represents an important component of one’s identity, self-categorization theory predicts that ethnic and racial discrimination will have a stronger negative impact on mental health and wellness outcomes (Turner et al., 1987). Taken together, social categorization theory predicts that positive feelings toward one’s ethnic group may heighten awareness to ethnic discrimination, which may exacerbate the harmful effects of ethnic or racial discrimination (Lee, 2005), whereas social identity theory posits that high regard for one’s ethnic identity may result in a buffering effect to the deleterious effects of racial discrimination (Yip et al., 2019).

Resilience
     Resilience refers to the “personal qualities that enable one to thrive in the face of adversity” (Connor & Davidson, 2003, p. 76). Although responding with resilience in times of stress has been reported across diverse AAPI subgroups, various ethnic groups may conceptualize resilience in unique ways. As a coping strategy, resilience is not limited to how one responds to challenges but also encompasses strategies for goal achievement. For example, Hmong women demonstrated resilience in career development by adopting positive perspectives, focusing on goal achievement, and reflecting on ways to continue improving (Yang, 2014). In another study, Chinese immigrants demonstrated fortitude through the immigration process and continued to thrive in the United States despite living in poverty in a California Chinatown community (Cheng, 2013). Resilience, therefore, consists of a stress response and an enduring phenomenon. Resilience may be fostered through the presence of social support, especially among family members (Lim & Ashing-Giwa, 2013), through the promotion of cultural understanding (i.e., cultivating ethnic identity), engaging in meaningful activities, and developing mental toughness (i.e., resilience; Kim & Kim, 2013).

Coping and Stress Responses
     Individuals evaluate racial discrimination experiences and cope with stressors differently based on their cultural values and beliefs (Lazarus & Folkman, 1984; Tweed & Conway, 2006). Asians and AAPIs who endorse higher levels of ethnic identity may be more likely to employ coping strategies that align with culturally embedded values (Miller & Kaiser, 2001; Miller & Major, 2000). These cultural values may assert the importance of adjusting one’s feelings to fit their environment, accepting rather than confronting problems, preserving social harmony, avoiding problem disclosure (Inman & Yeh, 2007; Tweed & Conway, 2006; Yeh et al., 2006), and evading conflict to preserve interpersonal relationships (Noh & Kaspar, 2003). These passive forms of coping may be problematic, as avoidant and emotion-focused responses may contribute to poorer mental health outcomes in AAPIs.

Other culturally congruent coping responses such as social isolation, which protects the user by avoiding the stressor (Edwards & Romero, 2008); self-blame or criticizing oneself, which maintains interpersonal harmony (Wei et al., 2010); and substance use (Pokhrel & Herzog, 2014), which momentarily helps one evade problems or adjust one’s feelings to the environment, may also be preferred by Asians and AAPIs. Following stressful events, social isolation has been strongly linked to increased symptoms of depression and anxiety, decreased feelings of self-worth, and lower levels of life satisfaction (Cacioppo & Hawkley, 2003; Cacioppo et al., 2002).

Stress-Related Growth
     Individuals may respond to stressful life events, transitions, and traumatic experiences with positive psychological changes (Park et al., 1996; Tedeschi & Calhoun, 2004). Researchers posit that coping strategies (Helgeson et al., 2006; Janoff-Bulman, 2004; Tedeschi & Calhoun, 2004), higher levels of self-esteem, positive spiritual changes, and increased social support (Linley & Joseph, 2004; Tedeschi & Calhoun, 1995, 2004) may arise following experiences of stress. According to Tedeschi and Calhoun (1996, 2004), examples of stress-related growth may include pursuing new possibilities, having a greater appreciation for life, cultivating meaningful relationships, enhancing spiritual growth, and developing personal strengths. A meta-analysis of 103 studies identified the presence of coping strategies, cognitive reappraisal, religion, optimism, and social support as significant predictors for stress-related growth (Prati & Pietrantoni, 2009). A qualitative study with Korean immigrants indicated the use of coping strategies was a predictor for stress-related growth (Kim & Kim, 2013).

Tedeschi and Calhoun (1996, 2004) conceptualized stress-related growth as both a long-term outcome and a process. For instance, stress-related growth has been conceptualized as a coping strategy following traumatic events (Nolen-Hoeksema & Davis, 2004) and may occur as the result of ongoing medical conditions such as cancer (Cordova et al., 2017) and chronic pain (Rzeszutek & Gruszczyńska, 2018), wherein traumatic experiences are not time-limited. Thus, stress-related growth may result from the ongoing process of awareness, adaptation, and concern related to medical, psychological, and social consequences associated with the conditions of living (Edmondson et al., 2011). Given the precedence of emerging research that measures stress-related growth during COVID-19 (Vasquez et al., 2021), stress-related growth was included as an outcome variable in our study. This variable was of particular interest because research remains forthcoming on the contributing factors to stress-related growth among Asians and AAPIs following experiences of stress related to COVID-19.

The call to identify moderators of mental health in Asian and AAPI communities following racial discrimination has been established (Litam, 2020; Litam & Oh, in press; Nadal et al., 2015; Wong et al., 2014). It is of paramount importance to identify race-related response strategies to develop culturally sensitive and effective counseling interventions (Chan & Litam, 2021; Frazier et al., 2004; Litam & Hipolito-Delgado, 2021). The relationship between COVID-19–fueled racial discrimination, ethnic identity, resilience, and coping responses in Asian and AAPI populations remains to be seen and necessitates special consideration for mental health professionals. Understanding this relationship is crucial when considering how Asians and AAPIs tend to avoid health care services (DeVitre & Pan, 2020; Sue et al., 2019). To address this paucity of literature, this study was undertaken to examine the following research questions:

  1. To what extent do coping, resilience, experience of racism, and ethnic identity predict stress-related growth following COVID-19?
  2. To what extent does coping moderate experiences of COVID-19–related racism and stress-related growth?
  3. To what extent does resilience moderate experiences of COVID-19–related racism and stress-related growth?

Method

Participants
     Data was collected from June to July 2020. A total of 409 Asian and AAPI individuals were recruited through AAPI listservs and community organizations (n = 10) and Amazon MTurk (n = 399). Sixty-eight respondents from Amazon MTurk completed less than 50% of the survey items, so their associated surveys were removed from the data. An additional 11 respondents from Amazon MTurk endorsed all survey items with the same response or incorrectly answered validity items, and their surveys were also eliminated from the data. Lastly, four multivariate outliers were removed (i.e., Mahalanobis distance value > 20.515 at a = .001), resulting in a final sample of 326 cases (79.7% useable response rate). The final sample (N = 326) met sufficient sample size for hierarchical multiple regression (N > 94) and a path analysis (N > 134; O’Rourke & Hatcher, 2013) at a = .01 to identify medium effect size.

 

Table 1

Descriptive Characteristics and Correlations

Characteristic Frequency %
Gender
Male 225 69.0%
Female 101 31.0%
Education Level
High School Diploma or the equivalent 6 1.8%
Associate Degree 6 1.8%
Bachelor’s Degree 205 62.9%
Master’s Degree 95 29.1%
Doctorate Degree 14 4.3%
Sexual Identity
Heterosexual 220 67.5%
Gay or Lesbian 9 2.8%
Bisexual, Pansexual, or Non-Monosexual 91 27.9%
Other 6 1.8%
Seeking Mental Health Service Since COVID-19
Yes 153 46.9%
No 149 45.7%
No, but I have considered it 24 7.4%
Variable a M SD 1 2 3 4 5
SBRS .91 27.48 7.28
SRGS .95 77.05 15.09 .510**
MEIM .61 22.56 3.20 .437** .429**
Resilience .95 134.92 20.97 .301** .703** .436**
Coping .92 79.05 13.10 .662** .699** .521** .518**

 Note. SBRS = Subtle and Blatant Racism Scale; SRG = Stress-Related Growth Scale; MEIM = Multigroup
Ethnic Identity Measure.
**p < .01

 

Table 1 presents details regarding descriptive characteristics of participants in this study. The average age of Asian and AAPI participants was 33.79 years (SD = 9.19), ranging from 18 to 72 years. The majority of participants identified as male (69.0%, n = 225), and a smaller group identified as female (31%; n = 101). Most participants reported having an international status (72.7%, n = 237), whereas 27.3% of participants (n = 89) identified as an American citizen or permanent U.S. resident. For one item, “Have you sought professional mental health counseling services since COVID-19?” approximately half of the participants (46.9%, n = 153) selected “Yes,” a total of 150 participants (45.7%) selected “No,” and a total of 24 participants (7.4%) indicated “No, but I’ve considered it.”

Procedures
     IRB approval from relevant universities was obtained prior to data collection. Potential participants were recruited using non-probability convenience sampling with inclusion criteria. Participants who (a) self-identified as Asian or Asian American, (b) resided in the United States, and (c) had either directly or indirectly experienced COVID-19–related racism were able to participate in the study. Participants from the MTurk obtained $0.50 as an incentive for their completion of the survey. To ensure the quality of data, the survey included two validity items that asked participants to choose specific response options. Participants who chose incorrect responses were automatically excluded from participation in the survey. 

Measures
Demographics and Background Form
     A demographics/background information form was created to gather information regarding participants’ age, gender, highest level of education, race/ethnicity, sexual identity, income level, occupation, international status, religion, and generational status. Additional survey items assessed English proficiency and how rates of discrimination evidenced through verbal, covert, online, and physical harassment may have changed following COVID-19. Participants were provided with the option to input text describing additional forms of racial discrimination experienced since COVID-19.

Multigroup Ethnic Identity Measure – Revised (MEIM-R)
     The Multigroup Ethnic Identity Measure (MEIM; Phinney, 1992) is a 14-item scale that assesses three aspects of ethnic identity: positive ethnic attitudes and a sense of belonging (five items), ethnic identity achievement (seven items), and ethnic behaviors or practices (two items). The measure is scored by reversing negatively worded items, summing the scores across each item, and obtaining the mean. Scores range from 4 (high ethnic identity) to 1 (low ethnic identity). Overall reliability was .90 in a college sample, and the results of a principal axis factor analysis using squared multiple correlations supported the presence of two factors, ethnic identity and other-group group orientation, accounting for 30.8% and 11.4% in college samples, respectively (Phinney, 1992). The MEIM was shortened into a six-item scale that measures two subscales, Identity Exploration and Identity Commitment (MEIM-R; Brown et al., 2014). Example items include “I have spent time trying to find out more about my own ethnic group, such as its history, traditions, and customs” and “I think a lot about how my life will be affected by my ethnic group membership.” The MEIM-R demonstrated adequate internal consistency for the overall scale and two subscales with all Cronbach alpha values near or above .70 (Brown et al., 2014). Based on the results of multiple-groups confirmatory factor analyses, the MEIM-R demonstrated evidence of measurement invariance, had good psychometric properties, and is an appropriate measure of ethnic identity across diverse Asian subgroups (Brown et al., 2014).

Resilience Scale (RS)
     The Resilience Scale (RS; Wagnild & Young, 1993) is a 25-item measure that uses a 7-point Likert-type scale from 1 (strongly disagree) to 7 (strongly agree). Example items include “I usually manage one way or another” and “I feel that I can handle many things at a time.” The RS demonstrated a coefficient alpha of .91 with item-to-total correlations ranging from .37 to .75. The concurrent validity of the RS was also robust and was strongly associated with measures of life satisfaction, morale, and depression. The results of a factor analysis indicated the RS is a reliable measure that demonstrated good internal consistency reliability, concurrent validity, and preliminary construct validity (Wagnild & Young, 1993). 

Subtle and Blatant Racism Scale for Asian Americans Revised (SABRA-A2)
The Subtle and Blatant Racism Scale for Asian Americans Revised (SABRA-A2; Yoo et al., 2010) is an 8-item measure that uses a 5-point Likert-type scale from 1 (almost never) to 5 (almost always) to assess the presence of subtle and blatant forms of racial discrimination. The total score is obtained by summing the responses across each of the items, with higher scores indicating greater perceived racism. Example items include “In America, I am faced with barriers in society because I’m Asian” and “In America, I have been physically assaulted because I’m Asian.” Support for the two-subscale structure was confirmed through an exploratory and confirmatory factor analysis with evidence of good internal reliability and stability over 2 weeks (Yoo et al., 2010). The SABRA-A2 also demonstrated good discriminant validity as evidenced by no correlations with color-blind racial attitudes (Yoo et al., 2010).

Brief COPE
     The Brief COPE (Carver, 1997) is a 28-item measure and uses a 4-item Likert-type scale to measure the extent to which participants report using various coping strategies. The measurement has 14 subscales that include two items each. Available responses are 1 (I haven’t been doing this at all), 2 (I’ve been doing this a little bit), 3 (I’ve been doing this a medium amount), and 4 (I’ve been doing this a lot). Example items include “I’ve been concentrating my efforts on doing something about the situation I’m in” and “I’ve been criticizing myself.” The Brief COPE has demonstrated acceptable psychometric properties and has been used with Asian populations (Sue et al., 2019). Cronbach’s alpha for the entire scale is .92 in the current study. Cronbach’s alpha for each of the 14 subscales ranged from .34 to .65. Given the poor reliability for the subscales, the present study utilized the total score for the entire scale.

Stress-Related Growth Scale Revised (SRGS-R)
     The Stress-Related Growth Scale Revised (SRGS-R; Boals & Schuler, 2018), is a 15-item measure that assesses the extent to which participants experience change following a negative event. The scale uses a bipolar 7-point Likert-type scale from −3 (a very negative change) to +3 (a very positive change), and example items include “I experienced a change in the extent to which I listen when others talk to me” and “I experienced a change in my belief that I have something of value to teach others about life.” The SRGS-R demonstrated acceptable measures of convergent validity and stronger associations with outcome measures of mental health, including depression, anxiety, global distress, and post-traumatic symptoms (Boals & Schuler, 2018). Compared to other measures, the SRGS-R may be a more accurate measure for human resiliency as evidenced by the neutral wording of each item and the inclusion of items that avoid measuring illusory growth (Boals & Schuler, 2018).

Data Diagnostics
     Examining the proportion of missing data indicated that 88% of participants reported no missing values, and 83% of the items were not missing data for any case. The proportion of missing data for the rest of the 17% of the items ranged from 2.7% to 16.8%. The degree and pattern of missing data were examined to determine whether data were missing at random. A matrix of the estimated means with each pattern yielded no particular patterns nor severe degree of missing data, which supported evidence for proceeding with missing data replacement techniques. Missing data points were populated using multiple imputation (MI), a method to allocate missing data without causing inflated bias even when there is a large portion of missingness in the data (Osborn, 2013).

     Next, the assumptions of normality, linearity, homoscedasticity, and multicollinearity were tested. The residuals were linear and did not deviate from normality as evidenced by the residuals lying reasonably in a straight, diagonal line. The assumption of homoscedasticity was also supported, as most of the residuals were concentrated along the zero point. All variance inflation factor (VIF) values were less than 10 and tolerance values were greater than .1, indicating absence of multicollinearity (Tabachnick & Fidell, 2019). Therefore, the data were deemed appropriate for hierarchical regression and path analysis (Tabachnick & Fidell, 2019).

Analytic Strategy
     Hierarchical regression models of stress-related growth were employed using SPSS version 27. First, gender, age, education status, sexual identity, and help-seeking experience were entered in Model 1 as the control variables. In Model 2, the first independent variable of subtle and blatant racism was added. In Model 3, the second independent variable of ethnic identity was entered. Finally, the remaining two independent variables of resilience and coping strategy were added as key predictors that may function as potential moderators in Model 4.

To examine potential moderating roles of resilience and coping strategy in the relationship between racism and stress-related growth, Hayes’ (2018) PROCESS macro version 3.5 was conducted. Specifically, 10,000 bootstrapping resampling was conducted to produce 95% percentile confidence intervals (CIs) for the moderating effect. If the CIs excluded zero, moderating effect was considered to be significant. Furthermore, the moderating effects were examined utilizing three conditional values of moderators (Hayes, 2018; Preacher et al., 2017), which included low (the mean score of the moderator −1 SD), moderate (the mean score), and high values (the mean score of the moderator +1 SD). Bodner’s (2017) formula was used to calculate effect size across moderator values. All predictors and moderators were mean-centered for more meaningful interpretation of moderating effect (Hayes, 2018).

Results

Preliminary Analyses
     Descriptive characteristics are found in Table 1. Male and female participants reported similar mean scores on all measurements, except the SABRA-A2. Female participants reported experiencing significantly higher levels of racism (M = 29.10, SD = 6.25) than their male counterparts (M = 26.75, SD = 7.59), with a small effect size (d = 0.34; Cohen, 1998). Participants who had sought mental health services since COVID-19 reported significantly higher resilience scores (M = 138.78, SD = 20.59), experiences of subtle and blatant racism (M = 29.99, SD = 6.38), coping strategy (M = 84.34, SD = 12.61), and stress-related growth (M = 81.13, SD = 14.25) than participants who either did not seek professional mental health services or who considered seeking services, but had not used them.

Correlations
     Correlational analyses among all study variables were conducted. Table 1 presents the correlations among the predictive and outcome variables assessed in the study as well as the mean and standard deviations for each variable and internal reliability for each measurement. As expected, ethnic identity, resilience, coping strategy, and stress-related growth were positively and moderately correlated with each other. Interestingly, subtle and blatant racism were also positively related to ethic identity, resilience, coping, and stress-related growth.

Hierarchical Regression Analyses
     Results from the hierarchical regression analyses are provided in Table 2. The control variables of gender, age, education status, sexual identity, and help-seeking experience were examined in Model 1. Among the control variables, education status, sexual identity, and help-seeking experiences were significantly associated with stress-related growth for Asians and AAPIs. Specifically, participants who had earned a master’s degree or higher and identified as heterosexual had significantly lower scores of stress-related growth compared to those who did not identify as heterosexual. Moreover, participants who sought mental health services following the COVID-19 outbreak reported significantly higher scores of overall stress-related growth compared to those who did not use professional mental health services. Model 1 accounted for 11.6% of the variance in stress-related growth.

The direct effects of subtle and blatant racism on stress-related growth were examined in Model 2. Subtle and blatant racism had a significantly positive relationship with stress-related growth among Asians and AAPIs (β = .456, p < .001) after controlling for gender, age, education, sexual identity, and help-seeking experience. Thus, higher levels of subtle and blatant racism were correlated with higher levels of stress-related growth. Among the control variables, only education status was found to be significantly associated with stress-related growth. Model 2 explained 28.8% of the variance in stress-related growth. The addition of subtle and blatant racism accounted for a 17.2% increase in the explained variance in stress-related growth, which was deemed a medium effect size (Cohen, 1998).

Ethnic identity was added in Model 3. Results indicated that ethnic identity was significantly positively associated with stress-related growth for Asians and AAPIs (β = .244, p < .001) after controlling for gender, age, education, sexual identity, and help-seeking experience. Based on these results, participants in the study who endorsed stronger levels of ethnic identity were more likely to cultivate higher levels of stress-related growth. Model 3 accounted for 33.5% of the variance in stress-related growth. The addition of ethnic identity explained 4.7% of increase in the variance of stress-related growth.

Resilience and coping strategy were added and analyzed in Model 4. Both resilience and coping strategy had significantly positive associations with stress-related growth for Asians and AAPIs after controlling for gender, age, education, sexual identity, and help-seeking experience. Specifically, Asians and AAPIs who had higher levels of resilience and higher levels of coping strategy were more likely to develop higher levels of stress-related growth. Model 4 explained 66.2% of the variance in stress-related growth. The addition of resilience and coping strategy accounted for a 32.7% increase in the explained variance in stress-related growth, which represented a large effect size (Cohen, 1998).

Moderating Effect of Resilience and Coping Strategy
     To examine the moderating effect of resilience and coping strategy, Hayes’ (2018) PROCESS macro (Model 1) was employed using 10,000 bootstrapping resamples. As shown in Table 3, coping strategy was significantly positively related to the slope of subtle and blatant racism on stress-related growth
(β = .017, p < .001). Based on these results, coping strategy significantly moderated (i.e., strengthened) the positive link between racism and stress-related growth. As the moderator, coping strategy explained 1.4% of the total variance (51.2%) in stress-related growth, yielding a small effect size (Cohen, 1998). The nature of the moderating effect is presented in the simple slope analyses (Figure 1). Subtle and blatant racism had a significant effect on the development of stress-related growth for Asians and AAPIs with higher levels of coping strategy (+1 SD; b = .468, 95% CI [.169, .767]), but the significant effect did not hold for those with lower levels of coping strategy (−1 SD; b = .017, 95% CI [−.224, .257]). A +2 SD increase in resilience yielded less than .001 change in the conditional effect on stress-related growth, which was small in magnitude (Bodner, 2017). Thus, resilience did not significantly moderate the link between racism and stress-related growth.

 

Table 2

Results From Hierarchical Multiple Regression and Moderated Path Analysis

Model 1 Model 2 Model 3 Model 4
Variables Β (S.E.) β Β (S.E.) β Β (S.E.) β Β (S.E.) β
Gender

Female (ref)

   Male −1.668

(1.718)

−.051 .187

(1.559)

.006 −.036

(1.510)

−.001 −1.831

(1.085)

−.056
Age

> 34 (ref)

  ≤ 34 −1.205
(1.623)
−.039 −2.059

(1.462)

−.067 −2.287

(1.417)

−.074 .397

(1.027)

.013
Education

≤ Bachelor (ref)

≥ Master −5.017

(1.698)

−.157** −3.470

(1.537)

−.109* −2.249

(1.510)

−.070 .320

(1.090)

.010
Sexual Identity

Non-hetero (ref)

   Heterosexuality −4.479

(1.697)

−.139** −1.721

(1.557)

−.109 −1.621

(1.508)

−.050 −1.512

(1.090)

−.047
Help-Seeking

No (ref)

   Yes 6.796

(1.605)

.225*** 2.691

(1.517)

.089 2.880

(1.469)

.095 .452

(1.065)

.015
SBRS .947

(.108)

.456*** .734

(.114)

.354*** .220

(.095)

.106*
MEIM 1.152

(.243)

.244*** −.172

(.190)

−.037
Resilience .357

(.029)

.496***
Coping .433

(.059)

.375***
R2 .116 .288 .335 .662
∆ R2 .172 .047 .327

 Note. Β = unstandardized regression coefficients; S.E. = standard errors; β = standardized coefficients; SBRS = Subtle and Blatant Racism Scale; MEIM = Multigroup Ethnic Identity Measure; ref = reference group.
*p < .05. **p < .01. ***p < .001

 

Table 3

Results From Moderation Path Analysis

Variable β SE LLCI ULCI
SBRS 0.242* 0.115 0.015 0.469
Coping 0.718*** 0.062 0.596 0.841
SBRS × Coping 0.017** 0.006 0.006 0.029
Controlled Variables
    Age −1.420 1.215 −3.811 0.971
    Gender −0.681 1.297 −3.232 1.871
    Education −1.409 1.287 −3.942 1.124
    Sexual Identity 0.185 1.304 −2.380 2.750
    Help-Seeking 0.070 1.282 −2.452 2.592
SBRS 0.577*** 0.089 0.403 0.751
Resilience 0.443*** 0.029 0.387 0.499
SBRS × Resilience 0.001 0.004 −0.006 0.009
Controlled Variables
    Age 0.472 1.109 −1.709 2.654
    Gender −1.704 1.175 −4.015 0.607
    Education -0.084 1.174 −2.227 2.395
    Sexual Identity −2.569* 1.184 −4.899 −0.239
    Help-Seeking 1.542 1.138 −0.696 3.781

Note. SBRS = Subtle and Blatant Racism Scale; LLCI = lower limit of confidence interval; ULCI = upper limit
of confidence interval.
*p < .05. **p < .01. ***p < .001.

 

Supplementary Analyses
     Because the 14 coping subscales demonstrated poor reliability, we examined which types of coping strategies moderated the link between racism and stress-related growth. Among the different types of coping responses, self-blame, religion, humor, venting, substance use, denial, and behavioral disengagement had significant moderation effects on the relation between racism and stress-related growth. On the contrary, self-distraction, active coping, use of emotional support, use of instrumental support, positive reframing, planning, and acceptance did not significantly moderate the relationship between racism and stress-related growth.

 

Figure 1 

Coping Strategy Moderates the Effect of Subtle and Blatant Racism on Stress-Related Growth


Discussion

The present study examined the extent to which coping, resilience, experiences of racism, and ethnic identity predicted stress-related growth in a national convenience sample of Asian and AAPI individuals. The results of our exploratory study provide empirical evidence for the moderating effects of coping on the relationship between racial discrimination and stress-related growth in Asians and AAPIs following the COVID-19 pandemic. In our study, ethnic identity was positively associated with stress-related growth, which further supports the current body of research linking ethnic identity to well-being (Iwamoto & Liu, 2010; Mossakowski, 2003; Yip et al., 2019). Our findings may be additionally explained through the lens of social identity theory (Tajfel & Turner, 1979), which posits that individuals who strongly identify with their social identities (i.e., ethnic and/or racial identities) are better equipped to leverage effective coping strategies that protect their overall self-concept and buffer the harmful impact of discrimination.

Participants in the study who used mental health services following COVID-19 also reported significantly higher levels of racial discrimination, resilience, coping, and stress-related growth compared to Asians and AAPIs who did not use professional mental health services. The results from our study are consistent with existing research that asserted how individuals may cultivate coping responses following traumatic experiences (Helgeson et al., 2006; Janoff-Bulman, 2004; Tedeschi & Calhoun, 2004) in ways that can strengthen the relationship between stressful experiences (i.e., racism) and stress-related growth (Park et al., 1996; Tedeschi & Calhoun, 2004). The results of our study therefore contribute to a larger body of research that establishes the relationship between stress-related growth and psychological health, optimism, positive affect, and psychological well-being (Bostock et al., 2009; Bower et al., 2009; Durkin & Joseph, 2009) while contributing nascent findings to the relationship between COVID-19 racial discrimination and stress-related growth in Asian and AAPI communities.

The results from Model 1 indicated education status, sexual identity, and help-seeking experiences were significantly associated with stress-related growth for Asians and AAPIs in the study. Specifically, participants who reported higher levels of education and identified as heterosexual or straight had lower scores of stress-related growth compared to those who did not identify as heterosexual. These findings are notable as individuals with lesbian, gay, bisexual, and other marginalized identities experience more stress and mental health issues compared to their heterosexual counterparts (Mongelli et al., 2019), resulting in greater opportunities to cultivate coping responses, build resilience, and establish meaningful social supports (Helgeson et al., 2006; Janoff-Bulman, 2004; Tedeschi & Calhoun, 2004). Participants in our study who used mental health services following the COVID-19 outbreak reported significantly higher levels of stress-related growth compared to Asians and AAPIs who did not use professional mental health services. One possible explanation for this finding may be that participants who sought mental health services already demonstrated higher levels of psychological mindedness, which may have influenced higher levels of stress-related growth following COVID-19–related racial discrimination.

In our study, the combined effects of resilience and coping explained 66.2% of the variance in Model 4, with coping strategies moderating the relationship between experiences of racism and stress-related growth. Participants in our study may have learned cognitive coping responses in the therapeutic setting that mitigated the effects of racism and cultivated stress-related growth. Our findings are consistent with the results of a meta-analysis (n = 103) that identified coping responses such as reappraisal, acceptance, and support seeking as significant predictors of stress-related growth (Prati & Pietrantoni, 2009). The specific coping responses that moderated the link between racism and stress-related growth in this study were self-blame, religion, humor, venting, substance use, denial, and disengagement. Leveraging these coping strategies in response to stressful experiences may be consistent with culturally congruent coping responses that protect Asians and AAPIs by avoiding the stressor (Edwards & Romero, 2008; Litam, 2020). Consistent with extant research on culturally congruent coping, engaging in self-blame responses may maintain interpersonal harmony (Wei et al., 2010), and humor, venting, denial, disengagement, and substance use may help one evade problems or adjust one’s feelings to the environment (Pokhrel & Herzog, 2014). The results of our study are thus consistent with research that emphasizes the influence of cultural notions on coping responses (Lazarus & Folkman, 1984; Tweed & Conway, 2006) while contributing new findings about which coping responses may contribute to stress-related growth in Asian and AAPI communities following COVID-19.

Implications for Counselors
     This study highlights how experiences of racism, ethnic identity, resilience, and coping strategies may cultivate stress-related growth among Asian and AAPI individuals who experience COVID-19–related racial discrimination. Each of these variables were found to predict stress-related growth in our study. Mental health professionals working with Asian and AAPI clients who have experienced COVID-19 racism are encouraged to consider how their clients’ ethnic identity, resilience, and coping strategies may be leveraged to promote their well-being. In this exploratory study, participants with higher levels of ethnic identity experienced greater levels of stress-related growth, so it may behoove mental health professionals to embolden Asian and AAPI clients to fortify the quality of their ethnic group affiliation by pursuing cultural practices that promote a sense of group belongingness (Phinney, 1990). For example, ethnic identity can be cultivated by fostering community connection through local Asian and AAPI organizations, embracing cultural notions, and learning more about one’s culture, background, and family history (Chan & Litam, 2021; Litam, 2020). Clients who embody strong ethnic identities may be more likely to employ coping strategies that align with culturally embedded values; therefore, it is essential that mental health counselors recognize their own cultural values while remaining respectful of their client’s cultural values (Chang & O’Hara, 2013; see MSJCC, Ratts et al., 2016).

Given the importance of coping strategies and resilience on stress-related growth, mental health professionals are encouraged to identify and amplify clients’ existing coping strategies while fostering responses that cultivate resilience. Though limited, a supplementary analysis indicated that different forms of coping, such as self-blame, religion, humor, venting, substance use, denial, and disengagement, may moderate the relationship between racism and stress-related growth among Asian and AAPI communities facing racial discrimination following COVID-19. Thus, mental health professionals working with Asian and AAPI clients must assess the intention and outcome of client coping responses and challenge individualistic assumptions that minimize the value of culturally congruent coping strategies. The importance of using culturally sensitive therapeutic interventions when supporting Asian and AAPI clients during COVID-19 has been established (Litam, 2020). For example, mental health professionals must challenge assumptions that disengagement coping strategies are inherently problematic for their Asian and AAPI clients (Wong et al., 2010). Instead, mental health professionals are encouraged to focus on the usefulness of their Asian and AAPI clients’ coping strategies without imposing their own preconceived notion of what healthy and unhealthy coping entails. Of note, substance use was identified as a coping strategy used by participants in this study. Counselors are therefore called to examine the purpose and outcomes associated with client substance use with nuance to determine the extent to which ongoing substance use may contribute to mental health sequelae.

Limitations and Future Areas of Study
     The results of the study must be interpreted within the context of methodological limitations. First, although all participants resided in the United States, the majority of participants held international statuses compared to U.S. citizens or permanent residents. Readers must be cautioned before generalizing these findings to AAPIs, who may endorse generational differences. Next, it is possible that participants recruited from MTurk may not be representative of the general Asian and AAPI population in the United States (Burnham et al., 2018). Future areas of research may consider incorporating various strategies to recruit more representative samples. Additional areas of investigation may also examine how generational identity may affect the extent to which coping, resilience, racism, and ethnic identity predict stress-related growth. Next, although a significant positive association was found between using professional mental health services and levels of resilience, racism, coping, and stress-related growth, it is unknown whether participants in the study already embodied higher levels of stress-related growth, coping, and resilience before seeking services. Future areas of study may examine whether these variables may actually predict help-seeking behaviors in Asians and AAPIs. For example, seeking professional mental health services is consistent with predictors of stress-related growth, including leveraging community support, engaging in cognitive responses, appraisal, and facilitating meaning making (Park & Fenster, 2004; Prati & Pietrantoni, 2009). Moreover, the validity of the findings from the supplementary analysis could be limited because of the low reliability of 14 subscales. Finally, Asians and AAPIs were aggregated in the study, which results in the loss of important within-group distinctions. Future studies are warranted that investigate the extent to which coping, resilience, racism, and ethnic identity predict stress-related growth in specific Asian and AAPI subgroups.

Conclusion

     Asians and AAPIs who employ culturally congruent coping responses may experience greater levels of stress-related growth following experiences of COVID-19–related racial discrimination. In this study, higher levels of ethnic identity, resilience, and coping responses predicted stress-related growth in a national convenience sample of Asians and AAPIs residing in the United States. Asians and AAPIs in this study who sought professional mental health services reported higher levels of racism and endorsed higher scores of resilience, coping, and stress-related growth compared to those who did not seek professional mental health services. Mental health professionals are encouraged to support Asian and AAPI clients in strengthening their ethnic identity, building resilience, and using culturally congruent coping responses to mitigate the effects of COVID-19–related racism and promote the development of stress-related growth.

 

Conflict of Interest and Funding Disclosure
The authors reported no conflict of interest
or funding contributions for the development
of this manuscript.

 

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Stacey Diane Arañez Litam, PhD, NCC, CCMHC, LPCC-S, is an assistant professor at Cleveland State University. Seungbin Oh, PhD, NCC, LPC, is an assistant professor at Merrimack College. Catherine Chang, PhD, NCC, LPC, CPCS, is a professor at Georgia State University. Correspondence may be addressed to Stacey Litam, 2121 Euclid Ave., Cleveland, OH 44115, s.litam@csuohio.edu.

2021 Dissertation Excellence Award

TPC received entries for the eighth annual Dissertation Excellence Award from across the United States. After great deliberation, the committee selected Dana L. Brookover to receive the 2021 Dissertation Excellence Award for her dissertation through Virginia Commonwealth University, The Relationship between Access to School Counseling and Students’ Attainment and Persistence in Postsecondary and STEM Education Outcomes.

Dana L. Brookover, PhD, NCC, earned a Bachelor of Science in psychology from Christopher Newport University and a Master of Education in school counseling from The College of William and Mary. In December of 2020, she was awarded a Doctor of Philosophy in counselor education and supervision from Virginia Commonwealth University. Dr. Brookover is an assistant professor in the University of Scranton’s counselor education program in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Prior to beginning her doctoral work, Dr. Brookover worked as a professional school counselor.

Dr. Brookover’s research interests include PK–16 education equity, including topics such as access to school counseling, first-generation college student success, and STEM equity. She also researches social determinants of health, and the related impact on well-being and education outcomes. She currently has 11 peer-reviewed publications, has presented at state and national counseling and counselor education conferences, and serves on the editorial board of the Journal of Counselor Preparation and Supervision. She is a researcher and educator who emphasizes centering a systems perspective in counseling, taking into account how economic stability, discrimination, social support, and education influence well-being.

TPC looks forward to recognizing outstanding dissertations like Dr. Brookover’s for many years to come.

Read more about the TPC scholarship awards here.

A Q Methodology Study of Supervisee Roles Within a Counseling Practicum Course

Eric R. Baltrinic, Ryan M. Cook, Heather J. Fye

Counseling students often experience clinical supervision for the first time during their participation in practicum courses. Counseling practicum supervisees new to supervision rely on their supervisors to provide direction and structure in supervision experiences to help them grow professionally and personally. Yet little is known about how students view their roles as new supervisees. Supervisors can benefit from structuring and delivering their courses informed by new supervisees’ perspectives on their roles. Accordingly, the authors conducted a Q methodology study with a purposeful sample of seven counseling practicum students, a doctoral co-instructor, and a counseling practicum instructor engaged in a first-semester counseling practicum course. Principal components analysis with varimax rotation of Q-sort data revealed three factors depicting supervisee roles (i.e., Dutiful, Discerning, and Expressive Learners). Implications for applying findings to improve supervision instruction and student learning are discussed, including limitations and future research suggestions.

Keywords: counseling practicum supervisees, supervisee roles, Q methodology, counseling practicum instructors, student learning

 

Supervision is generally understood as a relational and evaluative process between a senior and junior member of a profession, which is intended to foster the junior member’s learning and professional skill development while also ensuring the welfare of clients they serve (Bernard & Goodyear, 2019). Supervision is also a key pedagogical and curricular feature of counseling training programs (Council for Accreditation of Counseling and Related Educational Programs [CACREP], 2015) within which students develop into entry-level counselors. Although supervision is often considered a hierarchal relationship, supervisees are active participants in the supervision process (Stark, 2017). Thus, as part of counselor training, it is important for counseling students to understand what supervision is and what is expected of them (Bernard & Goodyear, 2019). Counseling students’ learning about the supervision process and supervisee roles commonly begins during their participation in field experience courses, the first of which is the counseling practicum course (CACREP, 2015). However, little is known about how counseling practicum supervisees come to understand their roles (Pearson, 2004) and, consequently, how counseling students use their understanding of roles to contribute to the learning process in supervision (Borders, 2019; Stark, 2017). This lack of understanding is compounded by a preponderance of supervision research grounded in expert perspectives and less so from the perspectives of counseling students new to supervision (Stark, 2017).

Thus, there are clear advantages to investigating counseling practicum supervisees’ understanding of their supervisee roles, particularly while they are engaged in their first field experience (i.e., practicum) course. First, practicum experiences offer supervisees applied learning environments (CACREP, 2015) where they can apply prior learning under supervision to their work with actual clients (Moate et al., 2017). To that end, this is the first time that these novice supervisees are ethically responsible for their clients’ care, which includes adequately conveying their professional needs to their supervisors (Bernard & Goodyear, 2019). Second, practicum supervisees may become anxious if they are unsure of their roles and what is expected of them by their supervisors and want to feel competent regardless of their actual competency levels (Ellis et al., 2015). Third and finally, the focus and process of supervision changes over time as supervisees develop (Stoltenberg & McNeill, 2010), including changes to how they function in their expected roles (Bernard & Goodyear, 2019). These early learning experiences are important for supervisees because they shape their understanding of clinical supervision (Borders, 2019), which they will engage in throughout their field placement experiences and post-degree, pre-licensure clinical training (Cook & Sackett, 2018). Therefore, it is important to understand supervisees’ initial understanding of their roles within the counseling practicum environment, including the degree to which these views align with or diverge from their supervisors’ (Bernard & Goodyear, 2019).

Student Learning and the Counseling Practicum Classroom
For supervision to be a valuable learning experience, it is assumed that supervisees will be able to adequately self-identify and articulate their client concerns as well as their own developmental needs to supervisors (Cook & Sackett, 2018). However, because practicum supervisees have no prior supervision experience, the way in which they come to understand their roles as supervisees is largely informed by the framework created by the instructor within a practicum course. To that end, practicum course instructors may align their course structure and requirements with accreditation standards (e.g., CACREP, 2015) and professional best practices (e.g., Association for Counselor Education and Supervision Best Practices in Clinical Supervision; Borders et al., 2014) in order to ensure that supervisees are informed of their responsibilities. This information is often conveyed to supervisees via an informed consent or supervision contract (Borders et al., 2014) as well as a course syllabus (CACREP, 2015). However, some supervisees may not fully understand the purpose of supervision nor grasp their roles as supervisees, even though they reviewed an informed consent with their supervisors (Cook et al., 2019).

Counseling practicum courses present students with new opportunities to apply learning from content courses (Moate et al., 2017), refine reflective practice (Neufeldt, 2007), and work with actual clients under supervision (Bernard & Goodyear, 2019). During this unique and critical learning time, supervisees are closely monitored by supervisors whose expectations and responsibilities are rooted in both supervisors’ and supervisees’ roles (Bernard & Goodyear, 2019; CACREP, 2015). Practicum course instructors are charged with facilitating supervisees’ learning to develop as professional counselors while safeguarding the welfare of the clients they serve (Borders et al., 2014). Borders (2019) delineated seven process-of-learning principles for use by training supervisors in the supervision classroom. This model is rooted in learning theories, with a particular focus on understanding how supervisors help supervisees in training based on the process of how students learn. We contend that implementation of practicum instruction guided by learning principles could help instructors to scaffold learning processes and teach counseling practicum supervisees about their supervisee roles, which is needed to help them navigate early career challenges (Loganbill et al., 1982).

Ultimately, if supervisees are to be effective with clients, more examination of their understanding of roles and related learning is needed. This information will provide instructors with the necessary knowledge to build effective learning environments and scaffold supervisees’ learning experiences in the supervision classroom (Borders, 2019; Moate et al., 2017). Thus, by examining how supervisees understand their supervisee roles, instructors can better teach them how to eventually self-direct their supervision experiences (Stoltenberg & McNeill, 2010) and effectively utilize supervision (Norem et al., 2006; Pearson, 2004), with the goal of transferring learning from supervision to counseling encounters with clients.

Counseling Practicum Supervisee Roles
Novice supervisees (i.e., practicum supervisees) desire to quickly acquire skills so that they can best serve their clients by utilizing the “correct” counseling technique or approach (Stoltenberg & McNeill, 2010). Further, supervisees experience a high degree of anxiety and confusion as they begin to develop their own counseling style and competencies (Rønnestad & Skovholt, 2003). Relatedly, Loganbill et al. (1982) suggested that novice supervisees, like counseling practicum supervisees, regularly feel “stuck” in their work with clients and confused as to how best to make progress with their clients. To that end, supervisees benefit from instructors who provide supportive feedback and explicit instructions in a highly structured supervision environment (Ellis et al., 2015; Loganbill et al., 1982; Stoltenberg & McNeill, 2010) that promotes role clarity (i.e., clearly understanding what is expected and how to meet those expectations).

Failure to determine whether there is alignment between supervisees’ and instructors’ perspectives on roles may yield unintended but potentially detrimental consequences (Stark, 2017). For example, from an educational perspective, instructors can best attend to their students’ learning needs when they understand what it is that their students perceive as being important to their learning (Moate et al., 2017). Furthermore, asking supervisees to engage in evaluations of their performance based on poorly understood roles (Ladany & Friedlander, 1995) could undermine the purposes of clinical supervision (e.g., professional development, client welfare; Borders et al., 2014) and threaten their right to a fair evaluation as students and supervisees (American Counseling Association [ACA], 2014; CACREP, 2015). Providing supervisees with clear information on their roles can assist with reducing nondisclosure (Cook et al. 2019) and lowering anxiety about their performance (Ellis et al., 2015). These practices allow for safeguarding supervisees and clients, fair supervision evaluation practices (Stark, 2017), and assuring quality supervision instruction grounded in student and instructor perspectives and adult learning processes (Borders, 2019).

Much of the current supervision literature contains guidelines for instructors to effectively conduct supervision (Stark, 2017). For example, Best Practices in Clinical Supervision (Borders et al., 2014) offers specific recommendations for those providing clinical supervision (i.e., supervisors). The expectations of supervisees are implied in the guiding document (e.g., arrive on time to supervision, engage in the supervision process), but the specific roles and responsibilities for supervisees are not explicitly addressed. Whereas others (e.g., Homrich et al., 2014) have conceptualized standards relevant to supervisees’ roles in clinical supervision, including self-reflection and self-exploration, communicating information truthfully and accurately, and engaging actively in opportunities for personal and professional development. The importance of supervisees’ contributions have also been noted by scholars (e.g., Norem et al., 2006; Stark, 2017; Wilcoxon et al., 2005). For instance, several authors identified supervisee characteristics that are helpful to the learning process in supervision, such as being self-directed, motivated, mature, autonomous, proactive, and open to new learning experiences, all of which are perceived as helping supervisees successfully navigate supervision (Norem et al., 2006; Stark, 2017; Wilcoxon et al., 2005). In an earlier effort to clarify roles and expectations for the supervision process, Munson (2002) identified several supervisee rights, including (a) meeting consistently and regularly with a supervisor, (b) engaging in growth-oriented supervision that considers one’s personal privacy, (c) participating in theoretically grounded supervision, (d) receiving clear evaluation criteria and evaluations informed by direct observation, and (e) having a supervisor who is adequately trained. Additionally, Munson suggested that supervisees ought to be able to speak freely in supervision, need encouragement to integrate prior learning from other counseling classes (which supports Borders, 2019), and should remain open and curious about the learning process. Overall, the author’s work supports the need for providing supervision based on expectations for both supervisor and supervisee performance. Despite these documented guidelines and expectations, there is a notable lack of input from supervisees’ perspectives of their roles and related expectations. This is concerning because instructors need to structure their learning environments grounded in evidence supporting student engagement (Malott et al., 2014), which is strengthened by identifying students’ prior learning experiences (Borders, 2019).

The Current Study
Learning to be a supervisee is a process in which counseling students gain experience starting in their practicum courses. It is critical for the supervisor (i.e., instructor) to understand their supervisees’ perceptions of their roles in supervision, which have been informed by accreditation requirements (e.g., CACREP, 2015), professional standards (e.g., Best Practices in Clinical Supervision, Borders, 2014), and scholarly literature (e.g., Munson, 2002). Yet, supervisors lack access to information from student perspectives for increasing supervisee engagement and meaningfulness of roles, particularly from the counseling practicum course context where students often experience supervision for the first time. In the current study, we sought to understand the expected roles and responsibilities of new supervisees from the perspectives of supervisees within a counseling practicum course. We also included perspectives from the instructional team (i.e., a doctoral student co-instructor, and a counseling practicum instructor) to illustrate the degree of alignment between instructors and students and to illustrate any nuances between instructor and co-instructor views. Using this research, supervisors and counselor educators may be able to offer developmentally appropriate solutions to address supervisee concerns and to provide support to counseling practicum instructors based on both expert and novice perspectives. Accordingly, our study was guided by the following research question: What are counseling practicum supervisees’ views of their roles and responsibilities in the practicum classroom environment?

Method

Q methodology is a unique research method containing the depth of qualitative data reduction and the objective rigor of by-person factor analysis (Brown, 1996), which can be used effectively in the classroom setting to facilitate students’ subject matter understanding (Watts & Stenner, 2012). Specifically, students’ self-perspectives can be revealed in relation to their peers’ and instructors’ views using Q methodology (Good, 2003). Q methodology has also been used successfully to investigate phenomena in the counselor education classroom (Baltrinic & Suddeath, 2020) and program settings (Baltrinic et al., 2013) that favor both student and instructor views. Accordingly, we selected Q methodology for this study to obtain perspectives from a participant sample of counseling practicum supervisees and their instructional team.

Concourse and Q Sample
Specific steps were taken to develop a rigorous Q sample, which is the set of statements used to assist participants with expressing their views on supervisee roles via the Q-sorting process (Brown, 1980). The first step was selecting a concourse, which is a collection of opinion statements about any topic (Stephenson, 1978). Many routes of communication contribute to the form and content of a concourse (Brown, 1980). The concourse for this study was composed of statements we took from select supervision literature and documents (i.e., Borders et al., 2014; Homrich et al., 2014; Kangos et al., 2018; Munson, 2002; Stark, 2017). We searched within these sources and selected concourse statements specifically containing supervision experts’ views on supervisees’ roles. We needed 100% consensus on each statement for it to be included in the concourse. The concourse selection process resulted in over 240 concourse statements, which was too many for the final Q sample (Paige & Morin, 2016).

Second, we proceeded with selecting, evaluating, and reducing the final Q sample items in line with Brown (1980) and Paige and Morin (2016). Initially, we had our first and second authors, Baltrinic and Cook, eliminate all duplicate, unclear, fragmented, or unrelated statements from the 240 concourse statements, which resulted in 160 statements. Baltrinic and Cook then used a structured sample design (Brown, 1980) to reduce the 160 concourse statements to a representative 48-item Q sample (Brown, 1980; see Appendix). Representativeness of a Q sample refers to whether the subset of items represent the broader population of statements in the concourse. Third, the 48-item Q sample was then evaluated by three experts (two supervision experts and one Q methodology expert) using a content validity index (Paige & Morin, 2016). The expert reviewers rated each of the 48 items on a 4-point scale using three criterion items: 1) Is the statement clear and unambiguous for counselor educators? 2) Is the statement clear and unambiguous for counseling practicum students? and 3) Is the statement distinct from the other statements? Scores across expert reviewers’ item ratings were averaged with only scores of 3 (mostly) or 4 (completely) indicating consensus on the content validity index. Items receiving a score of 3 or 4 were included, items receiving a score of 2 (somewhat) were reviewed and modified by our research team for appropriateness, and items receiving a score of 1 (not at all) were discarded from the sample. Accordingly, 45 items received scores of 3 or 4. Baltrinic completed additional Q sample refinements for the remaining three items that received scores of 2 (n = 2) and 1 (n = 1); two items were rewritten to improve clarity, one duplicate item was eliminated, and one new item was added. All refinements were confirmed by the second author before accepting the items in the final Q sample. For the final step, two of the experts completed Q sorts to ensure the final Q sample facilitated the expression of views on supervisee roles. The results of these two pilot Q sorts were not included in the data analysis.

Participant Sample
We followed McKeown and Thomas’s (2013) recommendations for selecting an intensive participant sample. Therefore, we purposefully selected an intensive participant sample composed of seven master’s-level clinical mental health counseling practicum supervisees, one doctoral co-instructor, and one faculty instructor; all of whom represented a purposeful sample of individuals (Patton, 2015) holding similar theoretical interests and having the ability to provide insight into the topic of investigation (Brown, 1980; McKeown & Thomas, 2013).

Three of the master’s-level counseling students identified as male and four identified as female, and their ages ranged from 23 to 37 years old (M = 30, SD = 10.06). Regarding race/ethnicity, five of the counseling students identified as European American and two identified as African American. The counselor educator and course instructor identified as a European American male. He holds a PhD in Counselor Education with 5 years of counseling experience and 6 years of supervision experience. Additionally, the instructor is a licensed professional counselor and an Approved Clinical Supervisor, and he publishes regularly on the topic of clinical supervision. The doctoral student co-instructor identified as a European American female who has 3 years of clinical experience as a school counselor and 1 year of supervision experience.

Data Collection
After receiving IRB approval, Baltrinic collected the initial consents, demographics, Q sorts, and post–Q sort interview data. The students and course instructors (N = 9) were asked to rank-order the 48 items under the following condition of instruction: “Select the statements with which you most agree (+4) to those with which you most disagree (-4) that represent a beginning counselor practicum student’s supervisee roles.” After completing the Q sorts, each participant was asked to provide written responses for the top three items with which they most and least agreed and were asked to comment on any other items of significance. Baltrinic obtained these post-sort questionnaires in person. The purpose of gathering post-sort data is to provide qualitative context for the factor interpretations (Brown, 1996).

Data Analysis
Nine Q sorts were completed by the instructional team and the counseling practicum students under a single condition of instruction, all of which were entered into the PQMethod software program V. 2.35 (Schmolck, 2014). A 3-factor solution was selected using the principle components method with varimax rotation, which yields the highest number of significant factor loadings and because Baltrinic, who analyzed the data, was blinded from participants’ identifying information (Watts & Stenner, 2012). Being blinded to participant information renders approaches such as theoretical rotation moot in favor of varimax rotation, given the lack of contextual information related to factor exemplars (i.e., those participants with the highest factor loading on a factor; McKeown & Thomas, 2013).

Results

Data analysis revealed three significantly different viewpoints (i.e., Factors 1, 2, and 3) on supervisee roles. For Q methodology, factor loadings are not used for factor interpretation. Instead, the individual significant factor loadings associated with each of the factors are weighted and averaged, resulting in an ideal Q sort representing each factor, which are presented chronologically in a factor array. Factor arrays contain the scores that are used for factor interpretation (see Appendix). Parenthetical reference to specific Q-sample items and their associated factor scores located in the factor array (e.g., Item 23, +2) will be provided within the factor interpretations below. Select participant quotes from post-sort questionnaires are incorporated into the factor interpretations.

Factor 1: The Dutiful Learner
Factor 1, which we have named the Dutiful Learner, represents a conceptualization of supervisee roles as predominantly adhering to the ethical codes, guidelines, and models of ethical behavior (Item 15, +4). One of seven supervisees, the course co-instructor, and the course instructor were significantly associated with Factor 1 (i.e., had factor loadings of .50 or higher; Brown, 1996) with factor loadings of .70, .82, and .70, respectively. Supervisee roles attributed to the Dutiful Learner are understood as aspects of the learning process provided that student learning adheres to the code of ethics. Additionally, supervisee roles were viewed in terms of supervisees following the procedures and policies of their graduate programs (Item 36, +4), which as one participant noted “are really non-negotiable.” Supervisee roles, including the demonstration of healthy professional boundaries in supervision sessions and with clients, were also highly preferred by participants aligning with this factor (Item 25, +4). When reflecting on Item 25, the supervisee participant emphasized, “Healthy boundaries are paramount for legally and emotionally protecting oneself.” Finally, the Dutiful Learner viewpoint entails emphasis on the importance of supervisees arriving on time for supervision (Item 7, +3), including the need to be prepared for every supervision session (e.g., individual, triadic, group; Item 18, +2).

Participants ascribing to the Dutiful Learner view of supervisee roles were less concerned about the demonstration of awareness of strengths and weaknesses to instructors (Item 1, 0), which according to one participant would “occur as part of the process over time.” Dutiful Learners are viewed as favoring ethically guided supervisee roles versus simply being pleasant to work with in supervision (Item 30, -4) or gratuitously asking questions regarding counseling-related issues (Item 32, -3). Dutiful Learner viewpoints may be related to having a sense of responsibility for other supervisees’ learning that includes a desire for students to develop a strong ethical compass, which is needed “throughout their development as counselors.” For example, according to the co-instructor, who noted in her post-sort interview questionnaire, “It seems items I ranked highest were ‘rules’ and ‘guidelines,’ which I feel is influenced by the need to be an ethical practitioner and influenced by being in the co-teacher role.” Overall, supervisees, according to the course instructor, are reminded to “trust the process” in their beginning roles, given it is most critical that they have a “willingness” to learn.

Factor 2: The Discerning Learner
Factor 2 characterized supervisees as having a penchant for seeking feedback, a spirit of willingness, and thoughtful reasoning; therefore, we have named this factor the Discerning Learner. For Factor 2, three of the seven supervisees had significant factor loadings (.67, .83, and .58, respectively). In general, the Discerning Learner represents a conceptualization of supervisee roles in which supervisees feel their supervisors provide them with feedback about counseling skills (Item 40, +4), which according to one participant is the “purpose of supervision.” The supervisees whose viewpoints aligned with this factor valued supervisee roles that included asking for help when needed (Item 35, +4), which is related to recognizing and regularly seeking feedback from their supervisors (Item 20, +2). Throughout the supervision process, Discerning Learners are viewed as valuing organization and exercising good judgement when approaching supervision situations (Item 43, +4). Overall, a willingness to work with their supervisors (Item 33, +3) was deemed important given the interpersonal nature of the supervision process.

Further, the Discerning Learner view favored the acquisition of counseling skills as central to supervisee roles. With a focus on skill acquisition, the need to manage ambiguity and uncertainty as a function of their roles was considered less important for Discerning Learners (Item 14, -4). As one participant noted, “The whole point of supervision is to take what the supervisor is telling us and apply it to our practice.” Additionally, for participants whose views aligned to this factor, recognizing and managing anxiety (Item 12, -4) was not considered central to supervisee roles in practicum because anxiety is commonly accepted as “part of the learning process in supervision.” One participant normalized the presence of anxiety and the need to “discuss it in supervision,” further suggesting, “It is good to express anxiety about the supervision process instead of bottling it in.” Overall, supervisees who view supervisee roles from the viewpoint of the Discerning Learner accept anxiety and ambiguity as those things that “should be expected” when using good judgement to acquire and refine counseling skills and initiate discussions about the process in supervision.

Factor 3: The Expressive Learner
Factor 3 favored the personal and interpersonal expression of needs in the interest of learning; therefore, we have named this factor the Expressive Learner. Three of seven supervisees had significant factor loadings on Factor 3 (.73, .50, and .63, respectively). Supervisees whose views aligned with the Expressive Learner factor favored supervisee roles emphasizing opportunities to be vulnerable in sessions with their supervisor (Item 34, +4). This factor entailed supervisee acknowledgment of the emotional context for learning and growth; as suggested by one supervisee, “If I don’t feel vulnerable, then I’m not going to have an experience where I truly learn.” Another non–traditional age male supervisee elaborated, “Older students often bring work experience and personal experience to the supervisee role,” which according to another participant (also a non-traditional male student) means that “If a supervisee is unable to be open and honest (despite previous experiences), then no progress is made towards professional growth.” Additionally, managing personal and interpersonal issues was deemed important for supervisee roles (Item 22, +4). As one supervisee noted, “Although it can be difficult to manage various life roles, it is important not to let those life roles interfere.” The Expressive Learner is further conceived as valuing the demonstration of verbal communication skills (Item 28, +3) and having the ability to take multiple perspectives (Item 21, +3), both of which were deemed essential for “welcoming and responding to supervisors’ critical feedback,” especially with challenging cases. The underlying sentiment of feeling empowered by supervisors (Item 45, +2) was deemed important because “feeling empowered will drive you to continue growing your skills.” Overall, the personal and interpersonal nature of supervision and supervisees’ roles was distinguishing for this factor.

Supervisees ascribing to the Expressive Learner factor expected that the ability to speak freely in supervision (Item 2, -3) is an assumed role of supervisees. As one participant explained, “It is important for me to say exactly what I’m feeling so my supervisor can give me their perspective and help me work through any issues.” Similarly, identifying supervisee developmental needs (Item 9, -4) is viewed as part of all supervision that should be initiated by the instructor at the beginning stage of supervision. For example, as one supervisee noted, “Because I am a student, I want my supervisor to initiate discussions” related to developmental needs “and then guide me with questions.” Finally, active participation in supervision (Item 42, -2) was viewed as less important because it is “expected,” and although supervisees should work collaboratively, “establishing tasks and goals should first be initiated by the supervisor,” a point echoed by all supervisees associated with Factor 3. It seems then that Expressive Learners are interpersonally attuned and focused and most responsive when supervisee roles are activated through initial supervisor prompts.

Discussion

The purpose of the current study was to examine the roles of supervisees as perceived from the multiple viewpoints of counseling practicum supervisees, a doctoral co-instructor, and a faculty instructor. Collectively, our findings reveal three different viewpoints (i.e., factors) of supervisees’ roles and responsibilities. Interestingly, only one of the seven supervisees’ views of these roles aligned with the views of the doctoral co-instructor and practicum course instructor. Even though the instructors acculturated the supervisees to their responsibilities in relatively the same way (e.g., university supervision contract, course syllabus) and used methods that aligned with accreditation guidelines, professional standards, and best practices in supervision, the majority of students still made meaning of these roles as supervisees in ways that differed from the instructors’ viewpoint. At the same time, supervisees deemed it important to convey their own professional competencies to their evaluative supervisors (Cook et al., 2019). As we will discuss below, course instructors who hope to better attend to the learning needs of all students and understand how their students perceive their own roles in clinical supervision can integrate details from the three factors (the Dutiful Learner, the Discerning Learner, and the Expressive Learner) into their instruction practices.

Participants whose views most strongly aligned to the Dutiful Learner factor perceive the most important aspect of supervisee roles as adhering to ethical codes and course requirements. For Dutiful Learners, supervisee roles parallel the concrete expectations often outlined in a supervision contract (Ellis, 2017) or course syllabus. That is, having clear expectations of clinical supervision and an operational understanding of the structural aspects of clinical supervision were endorsed as the strongest expectations of Dutiful Learners. Additionally, participants who conceptualized supervisee roles in terms of Factor 1 believe supervisees will gain insight into their own skills and competencies over time as they develop in their roles (Loganbill et al., 1982). However, having a foundational understanding of how to utilize clinical supervision as well as their rights as supervisees in clinical supervision (Munson, 2002) may be most critical for Dutiful Learners (Stoltenberg & McNeill, 2010). Accordingly, Dutiful Learners may find the explicit instructions for supervision helpful for managing the anxieties and uncertainties that are often experienced by new supervisees (Loganbill et al., 1982). Specific aspects to focus on for Dutiful Learners’ roles would be to review ethical guidelines, course requirements, and strategies for coming prepared to supervision.

Discerning Learners (Factor 2) favor their roles as active participants in the supervision process, which they perceive as a relational process between supervisee and supervisor, and student and instructor. That is, Discerning Learners perceive a collaborative relationship between supervisee and supervisor as being central to their professional development and their counseling work with clients. This factor best reflects the supervisee working alliance (Bordin, 1983), in which creating a strong emotional bond between supervisors and supervisees and mutual agreement on goals and tasks is most important to positive outcomes in supervision (e.g., intentional nondisclosure, role ambiguity; Cook & Welfare, 2018; Ladany & Friedlander, 1995). Discerning Learners also acknowledge that anxiety is a common characteristic of being a supervisee, which is somewhat expected given the participants’ developmental level (i.e., novice supervisees; Rønnestad & Skovholt, 2003; Stoltenberg & McNeill, 2010). However, they view acknowledging this anxiety to their supervisors as helpful. Finally, Discerning Learners perceive discussing cultural identities as being relevant to their role as supervisees, although one supervisee stated culture should only be discussed with a client “when relevant to their counseling work.”

Expressive Learners (Factor 3) perceive the role of a supervisee as being vulnerable with and openly disclosing information to their supervisor, demonstrating the ability to take multiple perspectives with their clients, and feeling empowered by their supervisors. These findings align with Cook et al. (2018), who investigated supervisees’ perceptions of power dynamics in clinical supervision. Further, the Expressive Learner factor represents views most aligned with tenets of feminist supervision (e.g., Porter, 1995; Porter & Vasquez, 1997). Porter (1995) noted that supervisors empower their supervisees by creating a safe environment and valuing their supervisees’ perspectives with the goal of facilitating their supervisees’ autonomy, although there is substantial evidence that counseling students, such as practicum supervisees, withhold information from their supervisors (e.g., Cook & Welfare, 2018; Cook et al., 2019). Expressive Learners view learning as a self-directed process within supervision, which also suggests they perceive themselves as active contributors to clinical supervision (Stark, 2017). At the same time, Expressive Learners also look to their supervisors to initiate discussion about their developmental needs and to provide insights into their opportunities for professional growth. This viewpoint aligns with that of Stoltenberg and McNeill (2010), who contend that supervisors can help novice supervisees to gain awareness into their own developmental needs through questioning and supportive feedback.

Implications for Practicum Instructors
Practicum course instructors often have the responsibility to teach supervisees about their roles and responsibilities as they align with accreditation standards (i.e., CACREP, 2015), professional standards (i.e., ACES Best Practices in Clinical Supervision; Borders et al., 2014), and ethical guidelines (i.e., ACA, 2014). To that end, practicum instructors must convey their expectations for students in their classroom and attend to the diverse learning needs of all their students. Our findings suggest supervisees understand their roles and responsibilities in three different ways, which at times differ from those of the course instructors. Instructors must be able to provide sufficient, appropriate, and meaningful feedback to all supervisees in their class (Borders, 2019) to ensure they are adequately able to successfully navigate supervision in the classroom and in future supervision experiences. Thus, we offer practicum instruction strategies based on the three supervisees’ viewpoints of their roles (i.e., factors). For example, instructors can assess supervisees’ understanding of their prior experiences with evaluative relationships (i.e., educational, personal, professional; Borders, 2019) and how those experiences might be similar or different to their current experience in the counseling practicum course.

Our findings also connect with evidence-based processes for how students learn. As you may recall from the literature review, Borders (2019) delineated seven principles rooted in learning theories, with a particular focus on understanding how to help supervisees based on the process of how students learn. These seven principles are connected to our findings and noted in parentheses (e.g., Principle 1) within the text that follows. Specifically, instructors can use characteristics of the three factors, along with the seven learning principles, to inform counseling practicum instruction and doctoral supervision strategies. For example, instructors can help Dutiful Learners identify ethical dilemmas (e.g., risk assessment, mandated reporting, healthy boundaries between client and counselor) and ways to discuss solutions with their supervisors by watching segments of counseling sessions (Principle 1). Instructors can then ask supervisees to use ethical decision-making models to connect practice to theory (Principle 2), and they can help supervisees to identify needed skills, including situations in which these skills are most needed (Principle 4 and 7). Instructors can observe supervisees’ skills practice and direct doctoral co-teachers to identify ways for the supervisees to improve practice and convey ethical dilemmas to supervisors (e.g., site supervisor, course instructor). As supervisees understand their roles, they can pursue role-playing ethical dilemmas and learn how to receive and respond to feedback after each role-play within a low-risk classroom setting (Principle 3). Overall, supervisees and doctoral co-teachers should receive scaffolded instructor feedback to help them better correct any errors (Principle 5).

Discerning Learners prefer presenting counseling work to their supervisors and discussing related feedback about their counseling skills, which can be done based on a mutual understanding and appreciation of supervisees’ roles. Thus, instructors should consider reviewing with supervisees the counseling skills learned in previous classes (Principle 1; Borders, 2019), including assessing supervisees’ comfort level with using specific counseling skills. To that end, instructors can ask supervisees to identify and name specific skills in their counseling work as well as their peers’ counseling work during role-plays or actual counseling sessions (Principle 5). Additionally, because Discerning Learners value discussing their anxiety and issues of culture with their supervisors, instructors can include a question about supervisees’ anxiety in case presentation forms, which could then be used as a starting point to facilitate any individual or group discussions. Identifying and addressing anxiety (Bernard & Goodyear, 2019) is important because supervisees need to know how to broach difficult topics with clients (Day-Vines et al., 2020), and instructors need to model that broaching for doctoral co-teachers and supervisees (Principle 6).

Of the factors identified in the current study, the Expressive Learners prefer a self-directed role when engaging in their supervision experience. Expressive Learners prefer a learning environment in which disclosure is encouraged, vulnerability is validated, and empowerment is facilitated. Accordingly, instructors need to assess Expressive Learners’ motivation level, which is a critical driver for learning new content (Principle 3; Borders, 2019) and for understanding supervisees’ capacities to self-direct their learning experiences (Principle 7). Instructors can assist Expressive Learners with developing learning goals that can include strategies for both collaboration and self-direction (Principle 7). Additionally, instructors may use specific supervision techniques, such as interpersonal process recall (Kagan, 1980), to gain insight into supervisees’ perceptions of their skills and to encourage their disclosure-related skill acquisition (Principle 4). This is important because Expressive Learners are willing to discuss their concerns when prompted by supervisors. Finally, instructors may also consider using the Power Dynamics in Supervision Scale (Cook et al., 2018) to assess supervisees’ perspectives of being vulnerable or empowered.

Limitations and Future Research
Researchers who use Q methodology gather and analyze data to reveal common viewpoints among participants, and in this case within a single counseling practicum course. As such, the Q factors in this study do not generalize (Brown, 1980) similarly to the findings in widescale quantitative studies. We caution readers against interpreting factors as being “better or worse” or “right or wrong” for other practicum courses. However, similar factors may plausibly exist among supervisees’ views in other counselor education practicum courses. In this way, any similarities from our findings to other sites is seen more as a matter of shared experiences rather than generalized findings (Stephenson, 1978). The low number of participants in the current study may be viewed as a limitation. However, similar to Baltrinic and Suddeath (2020), the instructors and student participants in the current study represented a purposeful sample of sole interest (Brown, 1980), revealing robust factors within a counselor education classroom (i.e., the unit of analysis). Nevertheless, future research could include larger numbers of participants across multiple practicum courses, which may increase the potential for revealing the existence of additional factors. Researchers are encouraged to test propositions by having supervisees complete Q-sorts with the current Q sample within and across other counseling subspeciality areas as well. Researchers can also use qualitative or case study methods to investigate supervisees’ views from practicum through the completion of internship.

Conclusion
In conclusion, practicum course instructors can incorporate the current findings into their supervision pedagogy. Using student-generated factors can help practicum course instructors guide supervisees to (a) develop skills grounded in a clear understanding of their roles and related approaches to learning, (b) select and incorporate supervisor feedback about the goals and tasks of supervision, and (c) identify areas of growth based on the alignment of supervisees’ and instructors’ role perspectives.

 

Conflict of Interest and Funding Disclosure
The authors reported no conflict of interest
or funding contributions for the development
of this manuscript.

 

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Appendix
Q Sample Statements and Factor Array

Eric R. Baltrinic, PhD, LPCC-S (OH), is an assistant professor at the University of Alabama. Ryan M. Cook, PhD, ACS, LPC, is an assistant professor at the University of Alabama. Heather J. Fye, PhD, NCC, LPC, is an assistant professor at the University of Alabama. Correspondence may be addressed to Eric Baltrinic, The University of Alabama, Box 870231, Tuscaloosa, AL 35487, erbaltrinic@ua.edu.

Suicide Protective Factors: Utilizing SHORES in School Counseling

Diane M. Stutey, Jenny L. Cureton, Kim Severn, Matthew Fink

 

Recently, a mnemonic device, SHORES, was created for counselors to utilize with clients with suicidal ideation. The acronym of SHORES stands for Skills and strategies for coping (S); Hope (H); Objections (O); Reasons to live and Restricted means (R); Engaged care (E); and Support (S). In this manuscript, SHORES is introduced as a way for school counselors to address protective factors against suicide. In addition, the authors review the literature on comprehensive school suicide prevention and suicide protective factors; describe the relevance of a suicide protective factors mnemonic that school counselors can use; and illustrate the mnemonic’s application in classroom guidance, small-group, and individual settings.

Keywords: suicide prevention, protective factors, school counselors, SHORES, mnemonic

 

Rates of youth suicide have increased tremendously in the last decade. A report by the National Center for Health Statistics in 2019 indicated that suicide rates among American youth ages 10–24 increased 56% from 2007 to 2017, making it the second leading cause of death in this age group; during this same time period, the rate almost tripled for those ages 10–14 (Curtin & Heron, 2019). Additionally, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC; 2017) reported that suicide is now the ninth leading cause of death for children ages 5–11.

The suicide rates for children as young as 5 can seem alarming and impact school counselors at all grade levels. Sheftall et al. (2016) stated that children who died by suicide in this younger age range were frequently diagnosed with a mental health disorder. In children, this diagnosis was usually attention deficit disorder with or without hyperactivity, and in young adolescents the diagnosis was most often depression or dysthymia. Researchers have also found that certain risk factors, such as childhood trauma, bullying, and academic pressure, can increase suicidal risk for youth (Cha et al., 2018; Jobes et al., 2019; Lanzillo et al., 2018).

Researchers agree that early prevention and intervention is essential to reduce youth suicides
(Cha et al., 2018; Lanzillo et al., 2018; Sheftall et al., 2016). Similarly, postvention efforts, or crisis response strategies following a student’s suicide, can lessen school suicide contagion and support future prevention efforts (American Foundation for Suicide Prevention [AFSP] et al., 2019). In this article, we review the literature on youth suicide and efforts to address it including leveraging protective factors, and we introduce the relevance of a suicide protective factors mnemonic that school counselors can apply in classroom guidance, small-group, and individual settings (American School Counselor Association [ASCA], 2019).

School Suicide Prevention
     Curtin and Heron (2019) called for proactive efforts to help address the rising statistics for youth suicide, and schools are a natural place for prevention, intervention, and postvention to occur. Students spend the majority of their waking hours at school and have frequent contact with teachers, counselors, administrators, and peers. School efforts to address suicide risk must include these stakeholders, as well as parents and community members (Ward & Odegard, 2011).

A suicide prevention effort is a strategy intended to reduce the chance of suicide and/or possible harm caused by suicide (U.S. Department of Health and Human Services [HHS], Office of the Surgeon General and National Action Alliance for Suicide Prevention, 2012). Best practice for suicide prevention in schools includes training all stakeholders, including students (Wyman et al., 2010). This training, frequently referred to as gatekeeper training, should include information about suicide warning signs and risk factors, as well as suicide protective factors, such as seeking help and having social connections. The World Health Organization’s (WHO; 2006) booklet for counselors on suicide prevention lists several suicide warning signs, including ones with relevance to school-age youth, such as decreased school achievement, changed sleeping and eating, preoccupation with death, sudden promiscuity, or reprieve from depression (pp. 5–6). Another important component of school suicide prevention is training and practice on how to help a student who exhibits these and/or other suicidal warning signs (AFSP et al., 2019). Institutional efforts, such as forming crisis teams (AFSP et al., 2019), and anti-bullying programs can also contribute to school suicide prevention efforts (HHS, 2012).

Other school prevention efforts involve small-group and whole classroom lessons on resiliency, coping skills, executive functioning skills, and help-seeking behavior (Sheftall et al., 2016). Many programs exist and are beneficial at elementary, middle, and high school levels. The Suicide Prevention Resource Center (SPRC; 2019a) listed many options: Signs of Suicide, More Than Sad, Sources of Strength, and Kognito. Of these examples, only Signs of Suicide contains training for warning signs, suicide risk factors, and suicide protective factors. Some suicide prevention programs are state and population specific, but all include the information needed to help stakeholders to know the risks and signs, and to have a plan on how to help youth with suicidal thoughts. Talking about suicide prevention with all stakeholders promotes increased help-seeking behavior in children and adolescents (Wyman et al., 2010).

School Suicide Intervention
     Suicide is an ongoing issue that many school counselors handle via intervention efforts. A suicide intervention effort is a strategy to change the course of an existing circumstance or risk trajectory for suicide (HHS, 2012). School counselors are a natural choice for helping to implement suicide prevention and intervention programs, as they often have training on working with students at risk for suicidal ideation (Gallo, 2018). Additionally, school counselors are ethically responsible to help create a “safe school environment . . . free from abuse, bullying, harassment and other forms of violence” and to “advocate for and collaborate with students to ensure students remain safe at home and at school” (ASCA, 2016, pp. 1, 4). One key component of school suicide intervention is suicide risk assessment. Gallo (2018) researched 200 high school counselors representing 43 states and found that 95% agreed it was their role to assess for suicidal risk, and 50.5% were conducting one or more suicide risk assessments each month. Other aspects of intervention include potential involvement of administrators, parents, and emergency or law enforcement services; referral to outside health care providers; and safety planning, including lethal means counseling (AFSP et al., 2019). School and other counselors are also involved in ongoing check-ins with students, re-entry planning after a mental health crisis, and responses to in-school and out-of-school suicide attempts.

School Suicide Postvention
     Suicide postvention involves attending to those “affected in the aftermath of a suicide attempt or suicide death” (HHS, 2012, p. 141). ASCA, in collaboration with AFSP, the Trevor Project, and the National Association of School Psychologists, released the Model School District Policy on Suicide Prevention that outlines policies and practices for districts, schools, and school professionals to protect student health and safety (AFSP et al., 2019). The model policy addresses postvention by summarizing a 7-step action plan involving school counselors and other professionals: 1) get the facts, 2) assess the situation, 3) share information, 4) avoid suicide contagion, 5) initiate support services, 6) develop memorial plans, and 7) postvention as prevention (pp. 11–13). The latest edition of a suicide postvention toolkit for schools (SPRC, 2019a) highlighted counselors’ collaborative work for crisis response and suicide contagion; how they help students with coping and memorialization; and their involvement with community, media, and social media.

Addressing factors that protect against suicide is an important component of school district policies to combat suicide (AFSP et al., 2019) and of comprehensive school suicide prevention (Granello & Zyromski, 2018). Leveraging suicide protective factors is one way for school counselors to fulfill professional obligations and recommendations concerning student suicide risk. What remains unclear from the literature is how school counselors explore and enhance protective factors in their suicide prevention, intervention, and postvention efforts.

Suicide Risk and Protective Factors
     The SPRC (2019b) defined suicide risk factors as “characteristics that make it more likely that individuals will consider, attempt, or die by suicide” and protective factors as those which make such events less likely (p. 1). High suicide risk involves a combination of risk factors. Examples of suicide risk factors include a prior attempt, mood disorders, alcohol abuse, and access to lethal means, whereas examples of suicide protective factors include connectedness, health care availability, and coping ability (SPRC, 2019b). Protective factors “are considered insulators against suicide,” which can “counterbalance the extreme stress of life events” (WHO, 2006, p. 3). Both risk and protective factors have varying levels of significance depending on the individual and their community (SPRC, 2019b).

Guidance from multiple sources stresses the salience of incorporating attention to suicide risk and protective factors into school counseling. The AFSP et al. (2019) Model School District Policy on Suicide Prevention notes risk and protective factors as crucial content in staff development and youth suicide prevention programming. In addition to the risk factors named above, the policy names high-risk groups, such as students who are involved in juvenile or child welfare systems; those who have experienced homelessness, bullying, or suicide loss; those who are lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, or questioning; or those who are American Indians/Alaska Natives (AFSP et al., 2019).

School counselors should know suicide protective factors that are specific to school settings and to the ages of students that they serve. The Model School District Policy on Suicide Prevention (AFSP et al., 2019) also highlights the role that accepting parents and positive connections within social institutions can play in a student’s resiliency. Despite suicide prevention policy guidelines, numerous structured programs, and growing research on youth suicide protective factors, very little guidance is offered on practical methods for school counselors to address students’ suicide protective factors. The purpose of this manuscript is to introduce to school counselors a recently published, research-based mnemonic—SHORES (Cureton & Fink, 2019). The acronym of SHORES stands for Skills and strategies for coping (S); Hope (H); Objections (O); Reasons to live and Restricted means (R); Engaged care (E); and Support (S). SHORES equips school counselors with a promising tool to guide suicide prevention, intervention, and postvention via direct and indirect school counseling services.

SHORES

Cureton and Fink (2019) created a mnemonic device called SHORES for counselors to utilize when working with clients. SHORES represents protective factors against suicide and the letters in the acronym were carefully selected based on support in the literature.

Figure 1

Cureton, J. L., & Fink, M. (2019). SHORES: A practical mnemonic for suicide protective factors. Journal of Counseling &
Development, 97(3), 325–335.

In the following sections, the authors define each part of the acronym and discuss how school counselors may apply SHORES with students. After discussing each of the protective factors in the mnemonic, we present a case example to demonstrate how school counselors may implement the SHORES tool with students in their school.

S: Skills and Strategies for Coping
     First, school counselors can explore with students what skills and strategies for coping (S) with adversity they might already have in place, work to strengthen these, and also foster development of new coping skills and strategies. Cureton and Fink (2019) shared that some of the skills and strategies for coping that counter thoughts of suicide include emotional regulation, adaptive thinking, and engaging in one’s interests (Berk et al., 2004; Fredrickson & Joiner, 2002; Law et al., 2015). For youth, such engagement includes academic and non-academic pursuits (Taliaferro & Muehlenkamp, 2014). School counselors often meet with students to discuss coping strategies and stress management; therefore, this step can easily be incorporated into working with students demonstrating signs of stress or even suicidal ideation.

Mindfulness skills and strategies may be particularly impactful for schools to incorporate. Research findings support the importance of a student’s emotional regulation skills, as dysregulation is associated with children’s suicidal thoughts (Wyman et al., 2009) and adolescents’ suicide attempts (Pisani et al., 2013). There is substantial research evidence on the positive effect of mindfulness interventions in children and adolescents, particularly for decreasing depression and anxiety (Dunning et al., 2019). Flook et al. (2010) used a school-based mindful awareness program with elementary school children that incorporated sitting meditation; a brief visualized body scan; and games for sensory awareness, attentional regulation, awareness of others, and awareness of the space around them. They found improvements in elementary school children’s metacognition, behavioral regulation, and executive control. Broderick and Jennings (2012) posited that mindfulness practice is an effective coping strategy for adolescents because it “offers the opportunity to develop hardiness in the face of uncomfortable feelings that otherwise might provoke a behavioral response that may be harmful to self and others” (p. 120). Teaching or practicing mindfulness with students might include helping them with body awareness, understanding and working with thoughts and feelings, and reducing harmful self-judgements while increasing positive emotions.

H: Hope
     Cureton and Fink (2019) suggested that hope (H) can protect against suicide because it may counterbalance negative emotions and cognitions. Studies have demonstrated that hope can help to safeguard the influence of hopelessness on suicidal ideation and that hope could, in turn, relieve a person’s feelings of being a burden and not belonging (Davidson et al., 2009; Huen et al., 2015). Researchers have found that adolescents with hope have lower suicide risk (Wai et al., 2014) and that hope moderates depression and suicidal ideation, even among adolescents who experienced childhood neglect (Kwok & Gu, 2019).

Furthermore, Tucker and colleagues (2013) discovered that establishing hope can also decrease some of the adverse impacts of rumination on suicidal ideation. Classroom guidance lessons could help school counselors to assess if there are individual students who seem to lack hope; these students might be good candidates for small-group or individual counseling. If school counselors wanted to implement a schoolwide comprehensive program, they might look at implementing Hope Squads. Over 300 schools in Utah have implemented peer-to-peer suicide prevention programs called Hope Squads, which work to instill hope and create a school culture of connectedness and belonging (Wright-Berryman et al., 2019). Hope Squads could also be utilized in the final stage of SHORES as a source of Support (S).

Another way that researchers found to decrease suicidal ideation was building hope through goal-setting (Lapierre et al., 2007). School counselors are in a prime position to help with goal-setting and could incorporate the topic of hope when helping students to set goals. One evidence-based intervention that can be utilized by school counselors to help students with goal-setting is Student Success Skills. School counselors teaching the Student Success Skills lessons not only encourage students to set wellness goals, but also teach attitudes and approaches that will help students socially and to reach their academic potential (Villares et al., 2011).

O: Objections
     Cureton and Fink (2019) included another supported protective factor: moral or cultural objections (O) to suicide. Researchers have found that individuals with fewer moral objections to suicide were more likely to attempt suicide (Lizardi et al., 2008), while those with a religious objection may have fewer attempts (Lawrence et al., 2016). Ibrahim and colleagues (2019) discovered that the role of religious and existential well-being was a protective factor for suicidal ideation with adolescents.

Research shows that school counselors feel ready to address spirituality with students, and at least one suicide prevention program could help with that focus. Smith-Augustine (2011) found that 86% of the 44 school counselors and school counseling interns who participated in a descriptive study had spirituality and religious issues arise with students, and 88% reported they felt comfortable addressing these issues with students. Although the focus is not on religion, this topic may come up when discussing spirituality, and school counselors working in public schools will want to be mindful of any restrictions from their district about discussing religion and/or spirituality with students. One evidence-based suicide prevention program that addresses spirituality is Sources of Strength (2017).

Sources of Strength has been used primarily in high school settings, but guidance for its application in elementary schools is also available. While participating in Sources of Strength, youth are asked to reflect on and discuss a range of spiritual practices, ways they are thankful, and how they view themselves as “connected to something bigger” (Sources of Strength, 2017). Wyman and colleagues (2010) discovered that participating in Sources of Strength helped increase students’ perceptions of connectedness at school, in particular with adults in the building. Implementing this program would allow school counselors to seek out those students at risk and have further individual conversations and tailor any necessary interventions to that student’s cultural and religious/spiritual beliefs. School counselors could also refer students and families to therapists outside of the school setting who may be able to further explore spiritual and cultural beliefs and resources.

More research is needed about how cultural objections to suicide impact youth. For instance, there is a longstanding belief that the view in the Black community of suicide as “a White thing” (Early & Akers, 1993) acts as a suicide protective factor. But in the wake of rising suicide rates among Black youth, Walker (2020) challenged this notion, arguing that Black youth are at risk for suicide because mental health stigmas in their communities result in them keeping their distress to themselves. Other researchers (Sharma & Pumariega, 2018) have echoed the concern that guilt and/or shame about suicidal ideation may result in isolation in youth of color, including those from Black, Latinx, Asian, and other cultural groups. Another cultural objection in youth of color that may serve as a protective factor is culturally informed beliefs about death and the afterlife (Sharma & Pumariega, 2018). School counselors can focus on “normalizing suicidal ideation and acceptance of internal and external problematic events” (Murrell et al., 2014, p. 43) and on ways to include family members and other cultural representatives who are accepting of mental health issues in suicide-related conversations and programs with students of color.

R: Reasons to Live and Restricted Means
     A fourth protective factor refers to two areas: reasons to live and restricted means (R). Reasons for living (RFL) are considered drives one might have for staying alive when contemplating suicide (Linehan et al., 1983). Bakhiyi et al. (2016) established in a systematic review of research literature that RFL serve as protective factors against suicidal ideation and suicide attempts in adolescents and adults. In a study with over 1,000 Chinese adolescents, the correlation between entrapment and suicidal ideation was moderated by RFL; adolescents with a higher RFL score had lower suicidal ideation even when experiencing high levels of entrapment (Ren et al., 2019). School counselors might consider giving students the RFL Inventory when presenting on suicide prevention or assessing for suicidal ideation, either the adolescent version (Osman et al., 1998) or the brief adolescent version (Osman et al., 1996). School counselors can also heighten students’ awareness of their RFL by asking them what or whom they currently cherish most or would miss or worry about if they suddenly went away.

The second part of this protective factor is restriction (R) of lethal suicide means, such as firearms, poisons, and medications (Cureton & Fink, 2019). There is evidence to support that restriction of means is effective for decreasing suicide (Barber & Miller, 2014; Kolves & Leo, 2017; Yip et al., 2012). For children and adolescents ages 10–19, the most frequent suicide method was hanging, followed by poisoning by pesticides for females and firearms for males. These findings were based on 86,280 suicide cases from 101 countries from 2000–2009 (Kolves & Leo, 2017).

Given this information, it is important for school counselors to not only assess for lethal weapons access but also to inquire about students’ access to and awareness of how everyday items might be used to attempt suicide. Although it may be impossible to restrict all means that could be utilized for hanging or poisoning, school counselors can discuss with guardians various ways to reduce access to these means and provide more supervision for any youth exhibiting thoughts of suicide. Kolves and Leo (2017) also discussed the high number of youth who learn about ways to attempt suicide from media and the internet; therefore, restriction, reduction, and supervision of media and internet usage could also be something school counselors suggest to guardians.

E: Engaged Care
     Another protective factor across populations is engagement (E) with caring professionals (Cureton & Fink, 2019; SPRC & Rodgers, 2011). School counselors often have hundreds of students on their caseloads, and this can become overwhelming, especially when dealing with crises such as suicide. At the same time, it is imperative that school counselors actively engage with students in a caring and supportive way. Often the school counselor might be the first person to intervene with a suicidal youth; Cureton and Fink (2019) emphasized the importance of the client being able to feel empathy and care from the counselor.

School counselors can view engaged care as an effective and collaborative approach for suicide prevention by working with students and families to leverage a variety of services. According to Ungar et al. (2019), “Students who reported high levels of connectedness to school also reported significantly lower rates of binge drinking, suicide attempts, and poor physical health compared to youth with low scores on school engagement” (p. 620). However, school counselors cannot be solely responsible for the ongoing engaged care of suicidal youth and will need to make referrals to outside counselors and/or physicians. Comprehensive engaged care might include mental health treatment and ongoing support and management from health care providers (Brown et al., 2005; Fleischmann et al., 2008; Linehan et al., 2006). Researchers found that comprehensive services that connect parents, schools, and communities result in decreased suicide attempts when compared to hospitalization for youth (Ougrin et al., 2013).

S: Support
     The final element of the SHORES mnemonic emphasizes the importance of students having supportive (S) environments and relationships (Cureton & Fink, 2019). As mentioned above, the school counselor is only one source of support. The support and involvement of family can also serve as a protective factor (Jordan et al., 2012). Diamond et al. (2019) noted that “when adolescents view parents as sensitive, safe, and available, they are more likely to turn to parents for support that can buffer against common triggers for depressive feelings and suicide ideation” (p. 722).

In a study with 176 Malaysian adolescents, support from family and friends was found to be a protective factor against suicidal ideation (Ibrahim et al., 2019). Youth seek support for suicidal thoughts from peers more than from adults (Gould et al., 2009; Michelmore & Hindley, 2012; Wyman et al., 2010). Many suicide prevention programs, such as Hope Squads and Sources of Strength, are addressing the need for positive peer support by incorporating a peer-to-peer component into their interventions (Wright-Berryman et al., 2019; Wyman et al., 2010). Working to increase peer support along with support from school personnel, family, and community could be lifesaving for students contemplating suicide.

Case Example Applying SHORES

The SHORES tool is meant to be comprehensive and can be used in classroom guidance, small-group, and individual counseling. A case example is provided for how SHORES might be employed in a middle school setting; however, this example could be adapted to work with elementary or high school students.

A middle school counselor attended a training on SHORES and incorporates this into her comprehensive school counseling program. Each year when she delivers her lessons on suicide prevention, she brings the SHORES poster to each classroom and shares with her students about protective factors and ways to reach out and seek help if they have a concern about suicide.

During her second lesson on suicide prevention, the school counselor notices that one of her new seventh-grade students, Jesse, seems unusually withdrawn and disengaged. The counselor is reviewing skills and strategies for coping (S) and asks each of the students to write down three to four ways that they have learned to cope with stress. In addition, she asks them to report how well each of these strategies and coping skills are working for them on a scale of 1–10. When she collects the papers, she notices that Jesse has written only one coping skill: “Locking myself in my room away from all of the noise and the pain.” He then stated his coping skill “is a 10 and works great because people will just forget about me and I can disappear.”

The school counselor is concerned about these remarks and decides to bring Jesse in for an individual counseling session. As she is asking Jesse about whether he has hope (H) that things will get better, she learns that his father has been deployed for the past year, his mother recently went to prison, and his grandmother, who is his primary guardian, had a recent health scare. Jesse shares that he is afraid he is going to lose the people closest to him and he feels angry and alone. He states that being a “military brat” who is new to the school makes him feel even more isolated, and he worries what others will think if they find out his mom is a felon.

When the school counselor expresses her concern for his safety and asks if he has ever thought about killing himself, Jesse is adamant that suicide is against his religion and he would never do it. He adds, “My mom would break out of jail and whoop me if she even knew I had thoughts like that.” Although Jesse voices his objections (O) and denies any current suicidal ideation, the school counselor is concerned about his social–emotional well-being and suggests he join a small counseling group she has for students experiencing changes in their families. Jesse agrees to check it out and gets his grandmother to sign a permission form for him to attend.

During his first small counseling group, Jesse is quiet but does confide in the group what is happening in his family and that he has been feeling “depressed.” Two of the other group members share that they also feel depressed. The school counselor asks them to define what they mean by feeling depressed. As they answer, she creates a list on the board of their definitions: “I feel hopeless and alone,” “I sometimes don’t know why I’m even here,” and “Sometimes I want to just fall asleep and never wake up.”

After they explore these definitions and the underlying feelings, the school counselor writes “Reasons to Live” (R) on the whiteboard. She shares that sometimes when kids are feeling depressed or hopeless, it can be helpful to think about the different reasons that they want to live and things they enjoy about their lives. She gives the students time to come up with lists and keeps track of what each of the students came up with during the brainstorming session. Although all of the other students in the group are able to come up with four to five reasons to live, the school counselor notes that Jesse only came up with one: “I get to visit my mom each Sunday.”

The school counselor decides to keep Jesse a few minutes after group to check in on his safety again. First, she asks him if he had other reasons to live before he moved to his new school. Jesse said that he used to play soccer and that he loved it and it made him feel excited each day to be part of the team. The school counselor encourages Jesse to look into joining the school soccer team and offers to talk to the coach to see if this is a possibility.

When asked about suicidal ideation, he is again adamant that he would never do it, but he admits that a couple of years ago it did occur to him that he could take his grandfather’s gun and “end it all.” The school counselor discovers that Jesse’s grandmother kept her late husband’s gun at her house. After discussing this with Jesse and getting his consent to contact his grandmother, she decides to err on the side of caution and follow up. Jesse’s grandmother shares that she does not believe the gun even works anymore and that there are no bullets in the home. However, after speaking with the school counselor about restricting means (R) she decides to donate the gun to a local hunting club.

During this conversation, the grandmother also shares that she is concerned about Jesse, especially his lack of a male role model. She shares that Jesse’s biological father is active military and might only see Jesse once or twice a year, and his grandfather died when he was 2. The school counselor lets the grandmother know that she plans to contact the soccer coach (who is male) about getting Jesse to join the team. After some further conversation, the school counselor and grandmother agree that it would also be helpful for Jesse to have some ongoing engaged care (E) with a counselor outside of school. She also inquires about the family’s religious affiliation because Jesse has mentioned to her that this is important to him. The school counselor compiles a list of Christian male counselors and sends the list home at the end of the day.

Over the next few weeks, Jesse continues to attend the small group. He joined the soccer team and has also been working with an outside counselor. He reports he is feeling more hopeful, even though he still worries about his mom and misses her. The school counselor delivered a classroom lesson on sources of support (S) earlier that week and follows up with each of the students during group. Each member creates a list of current sources of support in their lives and shares it. The school counselor notes that Jesse’s paper is filled with names of people both in and outside of school; he has listed friends at school, on his soccer team, and in his neighborhood; his soccer coach; his mother and grandmother; a neighbor; two teachers; and both of his counselors.

As the small group begins to wrap up toward the end of the school year, the school counselor checks in with Jesse for an individual counseling session. She reminds him about their classroom lesson on skills and strategies for coping (S). Jesse shares that he and his other counselor have been working a lot on mindfulness and that he really enjoys this. With his counselor’s encouragement, Jesse has also pursued a few new interests such as joining a club for military kids and joining an after-school program. When the school counselor revisits the question about reasons to live (R), Jesse shares that he needs more than one sheet of paper to write down all the good things in his life. The school counselor follows up with Jesse’s grandmother to share these updates and promises to continue engaged care (E) with Jesse when he returns for eighth grade.

Implications for School Counseling Practice, Training, and Research

There are implications for the use of and research on this promising tool across counseling specialties, and we focus on school settings in alignment with the scope of this manuscript. Guidelines and recommendations for school counseling practice concerning suicide include attending to both risk factors and protective factors in work with students via comprehensive suicide prevention (ASCA, 2019; Granello & Zyromski, 2018). The SHORES tool has utility as a standard and recognizable component for a comprehensive school suicide prevention program; an adjunct to current interventions such as risk screening and safety planning measures; and a strengths-based framework for prevention, intervention, and postvention. Future research is necessary to explore these applications and their impact.

Although some school suicide prevention programs address suicide protective factors, SHORES offers school counselors a simple and practical tool that they can apply across behavioral elements of a comprehensive school counseling program (ASCA, 2019). This consistent integration may support deeper understanding and broader use among school counselors and other faculty/staff, as well as students. The case example illustrated how SHORES may be applied and useful in classroom, small-group, and individual settings.

School counselors may use interventions such as risk screening and safety planning, and SHORES can fill the gap for suicide protective factors in both. Most suicide risk screening focuses solely on risk factors or does not fully explore suicide protective factors (McGlothlin et al., 2016). The most well-known safety plan template (Stanley & Brown, 2012) does not include all elements of the SHORES mnemonic (Cureton & Fink, 2019). School counselors who add SHORES to their risk screens and safety plans will be engaging in more comprehensive and protective interventions for students who may be at risk for suicide.

SHORES derives from a positive, strengths-based mindset regarding suicide prevention, intervention, and postvention. School counselors can use the tool to guide wellness programming before a suicide by considering how current and future efforts serve to enhance each element of the acronym. School counselors are also key to suicide postvention or response following a suicide (AFSP & SPRC, 2018). A school’s suicide postvention plan has three aims (Fineran, 2012), and embedding SHORES into the plan may help minimize distress, reduce contagion, and ease the return to school routines in place before the crisis. Additionally, the SHORES tool addresses several of the assets and barriers for successful school reintegration after a student’s psychiatric hospitalization (Clemens et al., 2011), so potential applications also include postvention after suicide attempts.

There are also training implications for SHORES in counselor education and supervision and practitioner professional development. Although school counselors’ training on suicide appears to have improved over the last 25 years, Gallo (2018) found that only 50% of high school counselors felt adequately prepared to identify suicidal students and assess their risk. Counselors-in-training have described the specific need for more training on child and adolescent suicide assessment (Cureton &
Sheesley, 2017). Counselors-in-training (Cureton & Sheesley, 2017) and educators (Cureton et al., 2018)
have also acknowledged the benefit of practicing suicide response in supervised counseling (i.e., internship), as well as the potential to miss opportunities simply because no clients present with suicide risk during such experiences. However, a recent assessment (Cureton et al., 2018) demonstrated that the counselor education and supervision field has only modest readiness to address the issue of suicide in its master’s-level training programs, in part because of negative views about suicide as a topic that is too scary, serious, advanced, and taxing to cover in class (Cureton et al., in press).

The strengths-based, preventative nature of SHORES positions it as a tool that can be easily introduced in classroom role-plays as well as during conversations with students being served during practicum and internship. Reframing these conversations, and more broadly all suicide-related efforts in counseling, as both challenging and potentially positive and life-affirming may partially address the negative stigma within and beyond the counselor education and supervision field (Cureton et al., 2018, in press). Finally, adding SHORES to existing school personnel training offerings like those listed by the SPRC (2019a) would deepen professional development for school counselors and other staff, faculty, and administration.

Future Research
     Despite the numerous possibilities to apply the SHORES tool in K–12 and other educational settings (Cureton & Fink, 2019), research is needed to establish its utility and effectiveness. Primary investigations include studies with school counselors who are considering adopting and implementing SHORES in their schools to understand perceptions of its apparent value and barriers to use. Evaluative studies about training offerings and investigations into memory recall of acronym components among school counselors would also aid in conceptualization of true functionality of the SHORES tool.

Research on students’ perceptions and outcomes studies are also needed. Students’ reactions to and generalized use of the SHORES tool would be beneficial in order to examine its appeal, as would those of families, teachers, and stakeholders. It is also important to explore how to be developmentally appropriate across grade levels. Finally, outcomes studies on SHORES for prevention, intervention, and postvention are necessary to determine its practical worth. For instance, a comparison between a school counseling department’s existing safety planning procedure and a SHORES-enhanced procedure would be valuable. Studies about SHORES and counselor self-efficacy to address suicide would also add to the literature.

Conclusion

As rates of youth suicide have increased in recent years, the need for school counselors to adopt tools to better assess suicide risk in their students has taken on more urgency. SHORES provides a strengths-based assessment tool that can be used by school counselors to quickly examine the protective factors that potentially mitigate against suicide in their students. Offering a comprehensive overview of existential, behavioral, and interpersonal factors that have been identified as bolstering defenses against suicidality, each letter of the SHORES acronym is rigorously supported by research and provides clear implications for the tool’s utility in K–12 settings. Given that only roughly half of school counselors feel sufficiently prepared to assess suicide risk in their students, the SHORES tool provides a practical resource for screening and safety planning. Even so, more research is needed to illustrate and verify the SHORES tool’s ease of use and adoption into other existing school-based approaches to addressing suicide in student populations.

 

Conflict of Interest and Funding Disclosure
The authors reported no conflict of interest
or funding contributions for the development
of this manuscript.

 

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Diane M. Stutey, PhD, NCC, LPC, RPT-S, is a licensed school counselor and an assistant professor at the University of Colorado Colorado Springs. Jenny L. Cureton, PhD, LPC (TX, CO), is an assistant professor at Kent State University. Kim Severn, MA, LPC, is a licensed school counselor and instructor at the University of Colorado Colorado Springs. Matthew Fink, MA, is a doctoral student at Kent State University. Correspondence may be addressed to Diane Stutey, 1420 Austin Bluffs Parkway, Colorado Springs, CO 80918, dstutey@uccs.edu.

Self-Reported Symptoms of Burnout in Novice Professional Counselors: A Content Analysis

Ryan M. Cook, Heather J. Fye, Janelle L. Jones, Eric R. Baltrinic

This study explored the self-reported symptoms of burnout in a sample of 246 novice professional counselors. The authors inductively analyzed 1,205 discrete units using content analysis, yielding 12 categories and related subcategories. Many emergent categories aligned with existing conceptualizations of burnout, while other categories offered new insights into how burnout manifested for novice professional counselors. Informed by these findings, the authors implore counseling scholars to consider, in their conceptualization of counselor burnout, a wide range of burnout symptoms, including those that were frequently endorsed symptoms (e.g., negative emotional experience, fatigue and tiredness, unfulfilled in counseling work) as well as less commonly endorsed symptoms (e.g., negative coping strategies, questions of one’s career choice, psychological distress). Implications for novice professional counselors and supervisors are offered, including a discussion about counselors’ experiences of burnout to ensure they are providing ethical services to their clients.

Keywords: novice professional counselors, burnout, content analysis, conceptualization, symptoms

 

The term high-touch professions refers to the fields that require professionals to provide ongoing and intense emotional services to clients (Maslach & Leiter, 2016). Although such work can be highly rewarding, these professionals are also at risk for burnout (Bardhoshi et al., 2019). In counseling, professionals are called to provide ongoing and intensive mental health services to clients with trauma histories (Foreman, 2018) and complicated needs (Freadling & Foss-Kelly, 2014). The risk of burnout is exacerbated by the fact that counselors often work in professional environments that are highly demanding and lack resources to serve their clients (Freadling & Foss-Kelly, 2014; Maslach & Leiter, 2016).

The consequences of burnout for counselors and clients can be considerable (Bardhoshi et al., 2019). Potential impacts include a decline in counselors’ self-care, strain of personal relationships, and damage to their overall emotional health (Bardhoshi et al., 2019; Cook et al., 2020; Maslach & Leiter, 2016). Unaddressed burnout might also lead to more serious professional issues like impairment (e.g., substance use, mental illness, personal crisis, or illness; Lawson et al., 2007). Thus, self-monitoring symptoms of burnout is of the utmost importance for counselors to ensure they are providing ethical services to their clients (American Counseling Association [ACA], 2014).

Although burnout is an occupational risk to all counselors (e.g., Bardhoshi et al., 2019; J. Lee et al., 2011; S. M. Lee et al., 2007), novice professional counselors may be especially vulnerable to burnout (Thompson et al., 2014; Westwood et al., 2017; Yang & Hayes, 2020). In the current study, we define novice professional counselors as those who are currently engaged in supervision for licensure in their respective states. Novice professional counselors face a multitude of challenges, such as managing large caseloads, working long hours for low wages, and receiving limited financial support for client care (Freadling & Foss-Kelly, 2014). Even though their professional competencies are still developing (Freadling & Foss-Kelly, 2014; Rønnestad & Skovholt, 2013), these counselors receive minimal direct oversight from a supervisor (Cook & Sackett, 2018). However, to date, no study has exclusively examined novice professional counselors’ descriptions of their experiences of burnout. Input from these counselors is important to understand their specific issues of counselor burnout. Other helping professionals have studied a rich context of practitioners’ burnout experiences. For example, Warren et al. (2012) examined open-ended text responses of people who treated clients with eating disorders and found nuanced contributors to burnout among these providers, including patient descriptors (e.g., personality, engagement in treatment), work-related descriptors (e.g., excessive work hours, inadequate resources), and therapist descriptors (e.g., negative emotional response, self-care). Accordingly, we employed a similar approach to examine the open-ended qualitative responses of 246 novice professional counselors’ self-reported symptoms of burnout.

Conceptual Framework of Burnout
Burnout is defined as “a psychological syndrome emerging as a prolonged response to chronic interpersonal stressors on the job” (Maslach & Leiter, 2016, p. 103). Although there are multiple conceptual frameworks of burnout (e.g., Kristensen et al., 2005; S. M. Lee et al., 2007; Maslach & Jackson, 1981; Shirom & Melamed, 2006; Stamm, 2010), the predominant model used to study burnout is the one developed by Maslach and Jackson (1981), which is measured by the Maslach Burnout Inventory (MBI). Informed by qualitative research, Maslach and Jackson (1981) developed the MBI and conceptualized burnout for all human service professionals as a three-dimensional model consisting of Exhaustion, Depersonalization, and Decreased Personal Accomplishment. Exhaustion is signaled by emotional fatigue, loss of energy, or feeling drained. Depersonalization is characterized by cynicism or negative attitudes toward clients, while Decreased Personal Accomplishment is indicated by a lack of fulfillment in one’s work or feeling ineffective. This conceptualization of burnout has been used to develop several versions of the MBI that are targeted for different professions (e.g., human services, education) and for professionals in general.

Despite the prominence of the MBI model in the burnout literature (Koutsimani et al., 2019), other scholars (e.g., Kristensen et al., 2005; Shirom & Melamed, 2006) have argued for a different conceptualization of burnout, noting several shortcomings of Maslach and Jackson’s (1981) three-dimensional model. Shirom and Melamed (2006) criticized the lack of theoretical framework of the MBI and noted that the factors were derived via factor analysis. They developed the Shirom-Melamed Burnout Measure (Shirom & Melamed, 2006), a measure informed by the Conservation of Resources theory (Hobfoll, 1989), which measures burnout as a depletion of physical, emotional, and cognitive resources using two subscales: Physical Fatigue and Cognitive Weariness.

Kristensen et al. (2005) also criticized the utility of the MBI for numerous reasons, including the lack of theoretical underpinnings of the instrument. Therefore, they developed the Copenhagen Burnout Inventory to capture burnout in professionals across disciplines, most notably human service professionals. From Kristensen et al.’s perspective, the underlying cause of burnout is physical and psychological exhaustion, which occurs across three domains: Personal Burnout (i.e., burnout that is attributable to the person themselves), Work-Related Burnout (i.e., burnout that is attributable to the workplace), and Client-Related Burnout (i.e., burnout that is attributable to their work with clients; Kristensen et al., 2005).

Stamm (2010) conceptualized the construct of professional quality of life for helping professionals, which included three dimensions: Compassion Satisfaction, Burnout, and Secondary Traumatic Stress. Burnout, as theorized by Stamm, is marked by feelings of hopelessness, frustration, and anger, as well as a belief that one’s own work is unhelpful to others, which results in a decline in professional performance. The experience of burnout may also be caused by an overburdening workload or working in an unsupportive environment (Stamm, 2010). Stamm’s model is reflected in the Professional Quality of Life Scale (ProQOL), and this instrument has been used by counseling scholars (e.g., Lambert & Lawson, 2013; Thompson et al., 2014).

A reason for variations in the conceptualization of burnout is that it manifests differently across professions (Maslach & Leiter, 2016). The only counseling-specific model of burnout is conceptualized by S. M. Lee et al. (2007), who developed the Counselor Burnout Inventory (CBI). The CBI was informed by the three dimensions of the MBI and additionally captured the unique work environment of professional counselors and its impact on their personal lives. As such, the CBI poses a five-dimensional model consisting of Exhaustion, Incompetence, Negative Work Environment, Devaluing Client, and Deterioration in Personal Life. In recent years, the CBI has been the instrument predominantly used by researchers to study counselor burnout (e.g., Bardhoshi et al., 2019; Fye et al., 2020; J. Lee et al., 2011).

The Current Study
J. Lee et al. (2011) noted the challenges of studying counselor burnout across diverse samples. They encouraged scholars to examine burnout within homogenous samples of counselors in order to offer more nuanced implications for each group. Prior scholarship (e.g., Freadling & Foss-Kelly, 2014; Thompson et al., 2014) suggested that novice professional counselors may be at risk of burnout, and despite the aforesaid vulnerabilities (e.g., low wages, work with high need clients, professional competency limitations), their self-reported manifestation of burnout symptoms have yet to be studied.

We acknowledge the critical importance of studying burnout in the profession of counseling. However, repeatedly relying on data from similar instruments to measure burnout may fail to capture new or relevant information about the phenomenon (Kristensen et al., 2005) for human service professionals (e.g., Maslach & Jackson, 1981) or professional counselors (e.g., S. M. Lee et al., 2007). Alternatively, content analysis, which focuses on the analysis of open-ended qualitative text (Krippendorff, 2013), may better capture the intricacies of burnout that could not be measured using quantitative instruments (e.g., Warren et al., 2012). Thus, we aimed to address the following research question: What are novice professional counselors’ self-reported symptoms of burnout?

Methodology

Participants
Participants in the current study were 246 postgraduate counselors who were currently receiving supervision for licensure. The age of participants ranged from 23 to 69, averaging 36.91 (SD = 10.15) years. The majority of participants identified as female (n = 195, 79.3%), while 22 participants identified as male (8.9%), four identified as non-binary (1.6%), nine indicated that they did not want to disclose their gender (3.7%), and 16 participants did not respond to the item (6.5%). The participants’ race/ethnicity was reported as follows: White (n = 186; 75.6%), Multiracial (n = 15, 6.1%), Latino/Hispanic (n = 7, 3.3%), Black (n = 6, 2.4%), Asian (n = 6, 2.4%), American Indian or Alaska Native (n = 3, 0.8%), Native Hawaiian or Pacific Islander (n = 1, 0.4%), and Other (n = 7, 3.3%), while 15 participants declined to respond to the item (6.1%). The self-reported race/ethnicity demographic information is comparable to all counselors in the profession, based on DataUSA (2018). The participants’ client caseload ranged from 1 to 650 (M = 41.88; Mdn = 30.0; SD = 53.74). On average, participants had worked as counselors for 5 years (Mdn = 3.3; SD = 4.87). The provided percentages may not total to 100 percent because of rounding and because participants were afforded the option to select more than one response.

Procedure
To answer our research question, we used data from a larger study of novice professional counselor burnout, which included both quantitative and qualitative data. After receiving IRB approval, we obtained lists of names and email addresses of counselors engaged in supervision for licensure from the licensing boards in seven states: Florida, Nebraska, New Mexico, Oregon, Utah, Washington, and Wisconsin. We aimed to recruit a nationally representative sample by purposefully choosing at least one state from each of the ACA regions. In addition, states were selected based upon our ability to obtain a list of counselors who were engaged in supervision for licensure from the respective licensure boards. We were able to survey at least one state from each ACA region except the North Atlantic Region. After removing invalid email addresses, we invited 6,874 potential participants by email to complete an online survey in Qualtrics. This survey was completed by 560 counselors, yielding a response rate of 8.15%. This response rate is consistent with other studies that employed a similar design (Gonzalez et al., 2020). All participants were asked, Do you believe you are currently experiencing symptoms of burnout?, to which participants responded (a) yes or (b) no. Participants who responded yes were then prompted with the direction, Describe your symptoms of burnout, using an open-ended text box, which did not have a character limit. A total of 246 participants (43.9%) responded yes and qualitatively described their symptoms of burnout. On average, participants provided 30.31 words (SD = 36.30). We answered our research question for the current study using only the qualitative data, which aligns with the American Psychological Association’s Journal Article Reporting Standards for Qualitative Research (JARS-Qual; Levitt et al., 2018).

Data Analysis
To answer our research question, we analyzed participants’ open-ended responses using content analysis, which allows for systematic and contextualized review of text data (Krippendorff, 2013). As recommended by Krippendorff (2013), we followed the steps of conducting content analysis: unitizing, sampling, recording, and reducing. We first separated the responses of the 246 participants into discrete units. For example, “feeling exhausted and back pain” was coded as two units: (a) feeling exhausted and (b) back pain. This process resulted in a total of 1,205 discrete units. We reduced our data into categories using an inductive approach, which allowed for new categories to emerge from the data without an a priori theory (Krippendorff, 2013). Although there are multiple conceptualizations of burnout (Maslach & Jackson, 1981; S. M. Lee et al., 2007) that could have informed our analysis (i.e., deductive approach; Krippendorff, 2013), we chose an inductive approach to capture the conceptualization of burnout for novice professional counselors—generating categories based on participants’ explanations of their own symptoms of burnout (Kondracki et al., 2002).

To that end, we developed a codebook by randomly selecting roughly 10% of the discrete units to code as a pretest. Our first and third authors, Ryan M. Cook and Janelle L. Jones, independently reviewed the discrete units, met to discuss and develop categories and corresponding definitions, and coded the pretest data together to enhance reliability. This process yielded a codebook that consisted of 12 categories. Cook and Jones then used the codebook (categories and definitions) to independently code the remaining 90% of the data across three rounds (i.e., 30% increments). After each round, Cook and Jones met to discuss discrepancies and to reach consensus on the final codes. The overall agreement between Cook and Jones was 97% and the interrater reliability was acceptable (Krippendorff α = .80; Krippendorff, 2013), which was calculated using ReCal2 (Freelon, 2013). At the end of the coding process, Cook and Jones reviewed their notes for each code and further organized them into subcategories based on commonalities. The second author, Heather J. Fye, served as the auditor (see Researcher Trustworthiness section) and reviewed the entire coding process.

Researcher Trustworthiness
The research team consisted of four members, three counselor educators and one counselor education and supervision doctoral student. The first and third authors, Cook and Jones, served as coders, while the second author, Fye, served as the auditor and the fourth author, Eric R. Baltrinic, served as a qualitative consultant. The counseling experience of the four authors ranged from 4 to 18 years, and the supervision experience of the authors ranged from 3 to 9 years. Cook, Fye, and Baltrinic are licensed professional counselors and three of the authors are credentialed as either a National Certified Counselor or Approved Clinical Supervisor.

We all acknowledged our personal experiences of burnout to some degree as practicing counselors as well as observing the consequences of burnout to our students and supervisees. All members of the research team had prior experience studying counselor burnout. Although these collective experiences enriched our understanding of the subject matter, we also attempted to bracket our assumptions and biases throughout the research process. To increase the trustworthiness of the coding process, the auditor, Fye, reviewed the codebook, categories and subcategories, discreteness, and two coders’ notes coding process after the pretest and rounds of coding. Fye provided feedback on the category definitions, coding process, and coding decisions during the analysis process.

Results

Using an inductive approach, 12 categories and related subcategories emerged from the 1,205 discrete self-reported symptoms of burnout. Full results, including the 12 categories and subcategories, as well as the frequencies of the categories and subcategories, are presented in the Appendix. We discuss each category in detail and provide illustrative examples of each category using direct participant quotes (Levitt et al., 2018).

Negative Emotional Experience
Of the 1,205 coded units, 218 units (18.1%) were coded into the category negative emotional experience. This category reflected participants’ descriptions of experiencing negative feelings related to their work as counselors (e.g., anxiety, depression, irritability) or unwanted negative emotions (e.g., crying spells). This category included 15 subcategories, and the units coded into these subcategories reflected the participants’ descriptions of a wide range of negative feelings. For example, one participant reported she was “struggling to feel happy,” while another participant shared that she “is carrying a heavy burden [that] no one understands or is aware of.” Some participants also reported crying spells. One participant shared she “has fits of crying,” while another reported she “[cries] in the bathroom at work.”

Fatigue and Tiredness
The category fatigue and tiredness was coded 195 times (16.2%) and included four subcategories. This category captured participants’ descriptions of feeling exhausted, fatigued, or tired. Units coded into this category included the participants’ indications that they feel exhausted, despite sleeping well. For example, one participant described feeling perpetually exhausted—“nothing recharges my batteries”— while another participant stated that her fatigue worsened as the week progressed: “[I feel] more and more exhausted throughout the week.”

Unfulfilled in Counseling Work
The category unfulfilled in counseling work captured the participants’ descriptions of no longer deriving joy at work, dread in going to work or completing work-related responsibilities, or lacking motivation to do work. This category was coded 140 times (11.6%) and subcategories included five subcategories. Avoidance of burdensome administrative responsibilities (e.g., paperwork) were commonly reported units that were captured in this category. For example, a participant noted “putting off doing notes.” Units also captured in this category reflected participants’ self-report of no longer feeling motivated or deriving joy from their work, which ultimately led some participants to stop seeking training. For instance, a participant described herself as “going through the motions at work,” and another added that she was no longer “motivated to improve [her] skills.”

Unhealthy Work Environment
Across all coded units, 128 units (10.6%) were coded in the category unhealthy work environment, which included 15 subcategories. This category captured participants’ descriptions of their work environment that contribute to a counselor experiencing burnout. For example, units captured in this category commonly described participants’ reports of working long hours with few or no breaks throughout the day, and participants feeling pressured to take on additional clients. Some participants described managing large client caseloads or caseloads with “high risk or high needs” clients. The units reflecting participants’ perceived lack of supervisor support were also coded into this category. For example, a participant noted that she was “scared to make a mistake or ask questions about doing my job,” while another participant described a supervisor as not “supportive or trustworthy.” Finally, units that signaled participants’ feelings of being inadequately compensated were coded into this category, such as this participant’s response: “I do not get paid enough for the work that I do.”

Physical Symptoms
The category physical symptoms reflected participants’ descriptions of physical ailments, physical manifestations of burnout (e.g., soreness, pain), physical illnesses, or physical descriptors (e.g., weight gain, weight loss). There were 107 coded units (8.9%) that referenced physical symptoms. The seven subcategories captured in this category reflected a wide range of physical ailments. The most commonly coded units were participants’ descriptions of headaches, illnesses, and weight changes, although some less commonly coded units reflected more serious physical and medical issues. For example, a participant noted, “I have TMJ [temporomandibular joint dysfunction] pain most days from clenching my jaw,” while another participant stated that she “recently began to have debilitating stomach symptoms, which were identified as small ulcerations.”

Negative Impact on Personal Interest or Self-Care
Across all coded units, 101 units (8.4%) were coded in the category negative impact on personal interest or self-care, which included eight subcategories. This category reflected the participants’ descriptions of reduced self-care or inability to engage in self-perceived healthy behaviors (e.g., cannot fall asleep), or lacking personal interest. Units coded in this category most commonly reflected participants’ experience of sleep issues—difficulty either falling asleep or staying asleep. Other units reflected participants’ lessening desire to engage in once-enjoyable activities. For example, one participant noted, “I find myself knowing that I need more time for play, rest, recovery, socializing, and personal interests, but [I am] feeling confused about how to fit that in.” Another participant described her self-care as unconstructive: “It often feels like no amount of self-care is helpful, which makes it more difficult to engage in any self-care.”

Self-Perceived Ineffectiveness as a Counselor
We coded 127 units (10.5%) into the category self-perceived ineffectiveness as a counselor, which included six subcategories. This category reflected the participants’ descriptions of their self-perceived decrease in self-efficacy as a counselor, difficulty in developing or maintaining therapeutic relationships with clients, decreased empathy toward clients, or questioning of their own abilities as counselors (e.g., ability to facilitate change). For example, one participant noted that she did not “have as much empathy for clients as before,” while another participant expressed, “I often feel like clients are being demanding and trying to waste my time.” Units coded into this category also reflected participants’ feelings of inadequacy or struggles to develop a meaningful professional relationship with clients. One participant stated that she must “reach very deep every morning for the presence of mind and spirit to pay close attention and to care deeply for each of these people.” Although less frequently coded, some units described participants’ feelings of compassion satisfaction or self-reported secondary traumatic stress. For example, one participant shared that she was “personally disturbed” by her work.

Cognitive Impairment
Across all coded units, 75 units (6.2%) were coded in the category cognitive impairment, and this category included seven subcategories. The units coded into this category reflected the participants’ descriptions of their cognitive abilities being negatively impacted in different ways. For example, one participant described “feeling like I am in a fog at work,” while another participant shared that she found it “hard to concentrate at work.” Some units captured in this category reflected participants’ rumination of clients or work; for example, one participant noted “shifting my attention to ruminating about dropouts at times, when I need to be present with a [current] client.”

Negative Impact on Personal Relationships
The category negative impact on personal relationships captured 63 coded units (5.2%). Participants’ descriptions of strained relationships as a result of their self-reported burnout were coded into this category, which included three subcategories. For example, one participant described “not [feeling] available for emotional connects with others in my personal life,” while another participant said that they “lashed out sometimes at family members after a stressful day of work.” Another example of the negative impact on personal relationships was a participant’s description of “struggling to find joy at home with my wife and two kids.”

Negative Coping Strategies
We coded 22 units (1.8%) into the category negative coping strategies. This category included five subcategories that captured participants’ descriptions of using unhealthy or negative coping strategies to cope with burnout. Units coded into this category described participants’ use of a variety of negative coping strategies. For example, participants noted an increase in “alcohol consumption” or “smoking.” Relatedly, a participant expressed one of her coping strategies was “the excessive use of Netflix,” while another participant stated that she was “not eating or eating way too much.”

Questioning of One’s Career Choice
Units that reflected participants’ descriptions of the questioning of one’s career choice and potential or planned desire to leave the profession were coded into the category questioning of one’s career choice. There were 21 coded units (1.7%) for this category, which included two subcategories. An example of units coded into this category is a participant who stated that she has “thoughts that I have made a mistake in pursuing this line of work.” Another participant shared feelings of “wanting to quit [my] job.” Some units coded into this category captured participants who were already making plans to leave their jobs or the field. For example, one participant shared that she “recently put in [my] notice at agency,” while another participant stated plans to leave the profession “within one year.”

Psychological Distress
The least number of units were coded into the category psychological distress, which was coded eight times (0.7%) and included two subcategories. This category captured the participants’ discussions of a mental health diagnosis, which they attributed as a symptom of burnout, or suicidal ideations. For example, one participant shared, “I have been diagnosed with major depressive disorder and my job is a factor,” while another participant stated, “I sought therapy for myself and I had to increase my anti-depressant medication.” Finally, two participants endorsed experiencing suicidal ideations at some previous point related to their burnout.

Discussion

The content analysis yielded insights of self-reported burnout symptoms by capturing the phenomenon in novice professional counselors’ own words. Many of the 12 categories that emerged from the data generally aligned with prior conceptualizations of burnout for human service professionals (e.g., Maslach & Jackson, 1981) and counselors (S. M. Lee et al., 2007), while some categories provided novel insights into how burnout manifested in this sample. Further, we observed trends in common self-reported descriptors of burnout for novice professional counselors (negative emotional experiences) to the least commonly endorsed descriptors (psychological distress). We assert that these findings enrich the scholarly understanding of the burnout phenomenon in novice professional counselors.

Discussion of the Conceptual Framework of Burnout
Maslach and Jackson (1981) emphasized in their earlier work that exhaustion and fatigue are core features of burnout, and the category of fatigue and tiredness was the second most commonly coded category (16.2% of all coded units) in our study. Our findings reaffirm exhaustion (or fatigue or tiredness) as a central feature of burnout, and specifically self-reported symptoms of burnout in novice professional counselors. Scholars (e.g., Kristensen et al., 2005; Maslach & Jackson, 1981; Shirom & Melamed, 2006) have conceptualized that the interconnectedness between the emotional, physical, and psychological fatigue of burnout is different. Shirom and Melamed (2006) distinguished emotional, physical, and cognitive resources, while Kristensen et al. (2005) made no distinction between physical and psychological exhaustion. Stamm (2010) also viewed exhaustion as a feature of burnout but did not specify how this exhaustion manifested in human service professionals. In the current study, we chose to distinguish emotional, physical, and cognitive symptoms to best capture the participants’ experiences in their own words (Kondracki et al., 2002). However, we found supportive evidence that novice professional counselors’ burnout included emotional, physical, and cognitive symptoms. Our findings suggest that all three components should be examined to adequately capture this phenomenon.

The category negative emotional experience, which reflected participants’ reports of experiencing negative feelings associated with their work as counselors, was the most commonly endorsed symptom of burnout (18.1% of all coded units). In other models of burnout (e.g., Kristensen et al., 2005; Shirom & Melamed, 2006), feelings or emotions are most often conceptualized as emotional exhaustion, emotional fatigue, or emotional distress. However, the participants in the current study richly described their negative emotional experiences, as captured in the subcategories, with irritability, anxiety, depression, and stress being the most commonly endorsed negative emotions. These findings most closely align with Stamm’s (2010) conceptualization of burnout, which suggested that feelings of hopelessness, anger, frustration, and depression are evidence of burnout. Relatedly, a similar content analysis performed with eating disorder treatment professionals also found that their participants most frequently described emotional distress (61% of their sample, n = 94) as a way in which their worry for clients impacts their personal and professional lives (Warren et al., 2012). Scholars (e.g., Maslach & Leiter, 2016) have postulated about the relationship between workplace burnout and affectional distress (e.g., depression, anxiety, stress); however, such an investigation has yet to be conducted in the profession of counseling. Our findings suggest that novice professional counselors commonly describe their manifestation of burnout as an emotional experience, and as such, this represents a gap in the current conceptualization of counselor burnout.

Two other categories captured in the current study were physical symptoms and cognitive impairment symptoms. Physical symptoms were coded for 8.9% of the 1,205 units coded, while cognitive symptoms were coded for 6.1% of all coded units. In the existing burnout literature (e.g., Maslach & Jackson, 1981; Shirom & Melamed, 2006), physical symptoms of burnout often paralleled or referenced fatigue or exhaustion. For example, in Shirom and Melamed’s (2006) model, physical symptoms were reflective of feeling physically tired. However, in the current study, participants most commonly described their physical symptoms as back pain, illnesses, and headaches. This finding aligns with Kaeding et al. (2017), who found that counseling and clinical psychology trainees attributed their back and neck pain to sitting for long periods of time. We assert that specific physical symptoms may have been inadequately captured by the existing models of burnout.

Relatedly, Shirom and Melamed (2006) suggested that psychological fatigue or psychological manifestations of burnout should be distinguished from those of emotional and physical symptoms, while Kristensen et al. (2005) made no such distinctions. The participants in the current study described numerous cognitive manifestations of burnout, and the most commonly coded subcategories included concentration or focus, rumination, and forgetfulness. These self-reported symptoms closely align with the model of Shirom and Melamed, which describes psychological fatigue as an inability to think clearly and difficulty processing one’s own thoughts. Further, Kristensen et al. described one symptom of personal burnout as being at risk of becoming ill. However, no items of cognitive impairment or worsening cognitive abilities are included in the CBI. Informed by our findings, descriptors of cognitive impairment should be considered to understand burnout in novice professional counselors.

Two of the three dimensions of burnout as conceptualized by Maslach and Jackson (1981) were Depersonalization (i.e., cynicism or negative attitudes toward clients) and Decreased Personal Accomplishment (i.e., diminished fulfillment in one’s work or feeling ineffective in their work). These two dimensions are similar to Stamm’s (2010) conceptualization of burnout for human service professionals, which included the features of perceiving that one’s own work is unhelpful and no longer enjoying the work. In the current study, two of the categories that emerged closely aligned with these conceptualizations of burnout: unfulfilled in counseling work (11.6% of all coded units) and self-perceived ineffectiveness as a counselor (10.5% of all coded units). Collectively, these two categories and related subcategories provide rich descriptors of how novice professional counselors experience their own depersonalization and diminished personal accomplishment (Maslach & Jackson, 1981).

Our findings align with qualitative studies of novice professional counselors’ experiences (e.g., Freadling & Foss-Kelly, 2014; Rønnestad & Skovholt, 2013). For example, Freadling and Foss-Kelly (2014) found that novice professional counselors sometimes question if their graduate training adequately prepared them for their current positions. As such, questioning of one’s clinical abilities by counselors at this developmental level was also a common experience by participants in our study (Freadling & Foss-Kelly, 2014).

Our findings were consistent with the counselor-specific burnout model in which S. M. Lee et al. (2007) noted the importance of including the unique work environment of counselors and related impact on their personal life. Our findings support the burnout conceptualization with novice professional counselors. For example, participants in the current study described an unhealthy work environment (10.6% of all coded units). The most commonly coded subcategories included unsupportive employer or supervisor, frustrated with system, burdened by documentation, and overburdened by amount of work or multiple roles.

In terms of the impact of counseling work on their personal lives (S. M. Lee et al., 2007), evidence of this dimension was captured in the current study in two categories: negative impact on personal interest or self-care and negative impact on personal relationships. There is a high degree of interconnectedness between burnout and self-care (Maslach & Leiter, 2016; Warren et al., 2012). Thus, it is unsurprising that participants reported a decrease in their self-care; however, some of the specific self-care behaviors that are affected as a result of novice professional counselors experiencing burnout are less understood. In the current study, the most commonly coded subcategory was difficulty falling asleep or staying asleep, followed by lack of interest in hobbies, poor work/life balance, and general decrease in self-care. As defined in the CBI, lack of time for personal interest and poor work/life balance are both indicators of Deterioration in Personal Life. While sleep onset and maintenance issues are associated with burnout (Yang & Hayes, 2020), counselors’ experiences with sleep issues appears to be a novel finding. Another indicator of deterioration in counselors’ personal lives as theorized by S. M. Lee et al. was a lack of time to spend with friends, which was also observed in our study. Relatedly, some participants indicated that they isolated from their social support system. Other participants described strained personal relationships (i.e., conflict in personal relationships, poor emotional connection with others), which are unique findings.

Counselor Burnout Versus Counselor Impairment
Although uncommonly reported, some participants in the current study described using negative coping strategies (1.8% of all coded units) and psychological distress (0.7% of all coded units) as evidence of their self-reported burnout. Examples of negative coping strategies reported by participants included increased substance use (e.g., alcohol, caffeine, nicotine) and overeating or skipping meals, while examples of psychological distress included having received a psychological diagnosis and experiencing increased suicidal ideations, which participants attributed to burnout. These self-reported symptoms of burnout align more closely with the definition of counselor impairment (Lawson et al., 2007) as opposed to the definition of counselor burnout. Our findings are significant for two reasons. First, any study of counselor burnout that utilized one of the commonly used instruments of burnout (e.g., CBI, MBI) would have failed to capture these participants’ experiences. Second, these findings suggest that a small number of counselors may be experiencing significant impairment in their personal and professional lives, despite being early in their professional careers. Finally, another infrequently coded category was questioning of one’s career choice (1.7% of all coded units). Coded units in this category indicated that some counselors were wondering if counseling was a good professional fit for them, while others expressed their intention to seek employment in another profession. It is possible that prolonged disengagement from one’s professional work (i.e., cynicism; Maslach & Jackson, 1981) could result in counselors wanting to explore other career options.

Limitations

There are limitations of this study which we must address. The purpose of content analysis is not to generalize findings, so our findings may only reflect the experiences of burnout for the participants in the current study. Their experiences may be influenced by developmental levels, experiences in their specific state, or other reasons that we did not capture.

Another limitation is our response rate of 8.15%. A possible reason for our low response rate is self-selection bias—counselors who were currently experiencing burnout responded to the open-ended items as opposed to those who were not feeling burnout. Future research is needed to see how burnout presents in larger or different populations of counselors. It might also be important to study the career-sustaining behaviors and work environments of those counselors who did not endorse burnout. The final limitation is that this study was descriptive in nature. Future researchers are encouraged to explore the factors that may predict burnout while also considering the novel findings generated from this study.

Implications

Our findings offer implications for counseling researchers, counselors, and supervisors. Although many of the findings from the current study align with prior research, there appears to be some degree of discrepancy between how burnout is conceptualized by scholars and how novice professional counselors describe symptoms of burnout. We implore scholars to further examine the specific descriptors of burnout as reported by participants in this study and to see if the frequency of these self-reported symptoms can be duplicated. Specifically, scholars should focus on the emotional experience of novice professional counselors, fatigue and tiredness, and feeling unfulfilled in their work, which were the most commonly reported symptoms. It also seems critically important to explore the less commonly reported descriptors of burnout, like negative coping strategies, questioning of one’s career choice, and psychological distress. Each of these categories could signal counselor impairment and would have been otherwise missed by scholars who relied exclusively on existing Likert-type burnout inventories.

Novice professional counselors sometimes experience self-doubt about their counseling skills or even the profession (Rønnestad & Skovholt, 2013), given the difficult work conditions in which these counselors practice (e.g., low wages, long hours; Freadling & Foss-Kelly, 2014). Novice professional counselors should understand that experiences of burnout appear to be commonly occurring. The illumination of these descriptors may encourage other novice professional counselors to seek guidance from their supervisors on how best to manage these feelings. For those novice professional counselors who are experiencing more serious personal and professional issues associated with burnout (e.g., using negative coping strategies and psychological distress), they should consider whether they are presently able to provide counseling services to clients and seek consultation from a supervisor (ACA, 2014).

Our findings have implications for supervisors. For example, supervisors should be willing to openly discuss burnout with their supervisees. Our results can provide supervisors with descriptors that capture novice professional counselors’ experiences of burnout. Supervisors might find it helpful to disclose some of their own experiences of burnout (or mitigating burnout) with their supervisees, which can normalize the supervisees’ experiences (Knox et al., 2011). Finally, to the extent that supervisors are able, they should protect novice professional counselors from experiencing an unhealthy work environment or potentially harmful behaviors. For example, in response to supervisees’ self-reported symptoms of burnout, supervisors could limit caseloads, allow counselors time to complete documentation, or mandate regular breaks throughout the day (including lunchtime).

Conclusion

There are many novice professional counselors experiencing a wide range of symptoms of burnout. A career in counseling can be rewarding, but prolonged burnout can lead to both personal and professional consequences, as evidenced by the findings from this study. Counselors must attend to their own symptoms of burnout in order to provide quality care to their clients and lead a fulfilling personal life. Supervisors and educators can support these counselors by discussing the experiences of burnout, and future scholars can better understand the experiences of counselor burnout by studying the phenomenon using definitions and symptoms in the words of counselors as opposed to generic definitions.

 

Conflict of Interest and Funding Disclosure
The authors reported no conflict of interest
or funding contributions for the development
of this manuscript.

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Ryan M. Cook, PhD, ACS, LPC, is an assistant professor at the University of Alabama. Heather J. Fye, PhD, NCC, LPC, is an assistant professor at the University of Alabama. Janelle L. Jones, MS, NCC, is a doctoral student at the University of Alabama. Eric R. Baltrinic, PhD, LPCC-S (OH), is an assistant professor at the University of Alabama. Correspondence may be addressed to Ryan M. Cook, 310A Graves Hall, Box 870231, Tuscaloosa, AL 35475, rmcook@ua.edu.