Nov 19, 2024 | Book Reviews
by Emily Bullock-Yowell and Robert C. Reardon
Introduction
As the administrator of a career center that successfully engages with over 80% of our student population annually at a university of more than 30,000 students, I continuously seek effective frameworks in order to guide our students in their career development journey. One such framework, Holland’s RIASEC theory, has consistently proven its value across multiple generations of students by providing a structured approach to aligning their interests with potential career paths. This approach is particularly crucial at our institution, where we are nationally recognized for our efforts in fostering social mobility and enabling our graduates to break free from generational poverty within just one year of completing their studies (Chetty et al., 2017; Carnevale et al., 2020).
Holland’s RIASEC Hexagon: A Paradigm for Life and Work Decisions by Dr. Emily Bullock-Yowell and Dr. Robert C. Reardon is a comprehensive exploration of John Holland’s influential theory of vocational personalities and work environments, commonly referred to as the RIASEC model. This book aims to expand the application of Holland’s theory beyond traditional career counseling to broader life decisions; it offers valuable insights for career counselors, educators, human resource professionals, and individuals navigating their career paths.
Summary of the Content
The book is organized into seven chapters, each focusing on different aspects of the RIASEC model. The authors begin with a practical case study illustrating the application of the RIASEC theory in real-life scenarios. They then provide a biographical sketch of John Holland, detailing the development of his theory, followed by an explanation of the integration of personality and secondary constructs. Subsequent chapters discuss the application of RIASEC in educational settings, employment settings, organizational fit, and life role situations. The final chapter addresses common myths about the RIASEC theory and offers reflections on its utility.
The book offers an in-depth examination of the RIASEC theory, extending its application to various life decisions beyond vocational guidance. This broadens the utility of the theory, making it relevant for a wider audience. The use of case studies and real-life examples helps readers understand the practical implications of the theory. These narratives make the content more relatable and easier to grasp.
Chapter 3’s discussion about the intersection of RIASEC types with other personality paradigms is particularly insightful. It helps with understanding the complexity and depth of personality assessments. Chapter 5 presents a highly practical exploration of how RIASEC types influence organizational culture and work performance. It provides useful insights for human resource professionals and managers looking to enhance team dynamics and productivity.
The final chapter’s engagement with common myths about the RIASEC theory and the reflections provided by various experts, including Holland himself, add a critical perspective. This helps in dispelling misconceptions and reinforcing the theory’s relevance.
Implications for Counseling Professionals
The book has significant implications for counseling professionals. By understanding and applying the RIASEC model, counselors can help clients gain deeper insight into their interests, values, and personality traits, leading to more informed career decisions. The integration of secondary constructs such as the Big Five personality traits can provide a more holistic view of clients, aiding in more personalized and effective counseling strategies.
Possible Integration Into Practice
Counselors can integrate the RIASEC model into their practice by using it as a framework for career assessments and guidance. For example, by using tools like the Self-Directed Search (SDS), counselors can help clients identify their RIASEC codes and explore suitable career paths. Additionally, the model can be used to enhance organizational consulting services, which could help businesses better understand employee motivations and lead to improved job satisfaction and performance.
To further assess the effectiveness of this book, it is valuable to incorporate insights from economist Tyler Cowen on career development. Cowen highlights the importance of adaptability and lifelong learning throughout one’s career. He notes that the best careers are those that evolve over time, adjusting to new challenges and opportunities. This mirrors the book’s emphasis on using the RIASEC model as a flexible tool for life decisions, underscoring the need for continuous self-assessment and adaptability. Cowen also emphasizes the importance of finding meaning and purpose in one’s work, suggesting that a career should reflect personal passions and values, bringing joy and fulfillment. This aligns with the RIASEC model’s focus on matching personal interests and values with work environments to achieve career satisfaction.
Conclusion
Holland’s RIASEC Hexagon: A Paradigm for Life and Work Decisions is a valuable resource that effectively extends John Holland’s theory to broader life decisions. While the book’s comprehensive coverage and practical examples are notable strengths, its dense theoretical content and limited incorporation of new research might pose challenges for some readers. However, the integration of secondary constructs and the focus on organizational fit offer practical insights that enhance the book’s real-world applicability. Donald Super’s emphasis on career development as a lifelong process further highlights the relevance of the RIASEC model in navigating today’s evolving career landscape.
References
Carnevale, A. P., Fasules, M. L., Quinn, M. C., & Peltier Campbell, K. (2020). The role of education in building a strong workforce. Georgetown University Center on Education and the Workforce.
Chetty, R., Friedman, J. N., Saez, E., Turner, N., & Yagan, D. (2017). Mobility report cards: The role of colleges in intergenerational mobility. NBER Working Paper Series.
Cowen, T. (2019). The future of work. Penguin Random House.
Bullock-Yowell, E., & Reardon, R. C. (2024). Holland’s RIASEC hexagon: A paradigm for life and work decisions. Florida State Open Publishing. https://doi.org/10.33009/fsop_bullock-yowell0524
Reviewed by: Brian M. Montalvo, MS, EdS, NCC, CCC, Assistant Vice President of Career Services at Florida Atlantic University
Sep 13, 2024 | Volume 14 - Issue 2
Matthew Peck, Diana M. Doumas, Aida Midgett
Researchers have utilized the Bystander Intervention Model to conceptualize bullying bystander behavior. The five-step model includes Notice the Event, Interpret the Event as an Emergency, Accept Responsibility, Know How to Act, and Decision to Intervene. The purpose of this study was to examine outcomes of an evidence-based bystander training within the context of the Bystander Intervention Model among middle school students (N = 79). We used a quasi-experimental design to examine differences in outcomes between bystanders and non-bystanders. We also assessed which of the steps were uniquely associated with post-training defending behavior. Results indicated a significant increase in Know How to Act for both groups. In contrast, we found increases in Notice the Event, Decision to Intervene, and defending behavior among bystanders only. Finally, Notice the Event and Decision to Intervene were uniquely associated with post-training defending behavior. We discuss implications of these findings for counselors.
Keywords: Bystander Intervention Model, bullying, bystander training, defending behavior, middle school
School bullying is a significant problem in the United States, with one out of four students reporting being a target of bullying (U.S. Department of Education, 2019). Bullying is defined as any unwanted aggressive behavior(s) by another youth or group of youths, who are not siblings or currently dating, that involves an observed or perceived power imbalance, and is repeated multiple times or is highly likely to be repeated (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention [CDC], 2020). Bullying peaks in middle school, with 28% of middle school students reporting being a target of school bullying (CDC, 2020). According to a meta-analysis examining consequences of bullying victimization, among middle school students, targets of bullying reported a wide range of socio-emotional consequences, including anxiety, post-traumatic stress, depressive symptoms, poor mental and general health, non-suicidal self-injury, suicidal ideation, and suicide attempts (Moore et al., 2017). Researchers have also established mental health risks associated with witnessing bullying among middle school students, including anxiety and depressive symptoms (Doumas & Midgett, 2021; Midgett & Doumas, 2019).
The Role of Bystanders
The majority of students (80%) have reported observing bullying as a bystander (Wu et al., 2016). A bystander is a student who witnesses a bullying situation but is not the target or the perpetrator (Twemlow et al., 2004). Bystanders can respond to bullying in several ways, including encouraging the bully by directly acting as “assistants” or indirectly acting as “reinforcers,” walking away from bullying situations acting as “outsiders,” or attempting to intervene to help the target by acting as “defenders” (Salmivalli et al., 1996). As such, bystanders play an important role in inhibiting or exacerbating bullying situations. Although most students intentionally or unintentionally reinforce bullying by acting as “assistants,” “reinforcers,” or “outsiders” (Salmivalli & Voeten, 2004), a single high-status student or group of students acting as “defenders” can shift attention and power away from the perpetrator (Salmivalli et al., 2011), thereby discontinuing reinforcement, modeling prosocial behavior, and providing social support for targets. Thus, there is a need to train bystanders to intervene to both reduce bullying and buffer both bystanders and targets from the negative consequences associated with witnessing bullying.
Researchers have found that mobilizing bystanders to intervene to stop bullying is an important part of bullying prevention (Polanin et al., 2012). Bullying decreases when bystanders intervene as “defenders” (Salmivalli et al., 2011); however, many students reported they lack the skills to intervene (Bauman et al., 2020) and only 20% reported using defending behavior when they witness bullying (Salmivalli et al., 2005). Researchers investigating bullying bystander behavior have identified factors associated with defending targets, including perceived pressure to intervene (Porter & Smith-Adcock, 2016), basic moral sensitivity to bullying (Thornberg & Jungert, 2013), self-efficacy (Thornberg & Jungert, 2013; van der Ploeg et al., 2017), and empathy (van der Ploeg et al., 2017). However, these studies have focused primarily on one or two specific factors in relation to defending, rather than the process that leads to defending behavior. Because bullying involves many interacting factors, a comprehensive model is needed to understand the complex social behavior of bystander intervention in bullying.
The Bystander Intervention Model
The Bystander Intervention Model (Latané & Darley, 1970) provides a conceptual framework of necessary conditions for bystanders to intervene to help targets of bullying. This model outlines five sequential steps that a bystander must undergo in order to take action: (a) notice the event, (b) interpret the event as an emergency that requires help, (c) accept responsibility for intervening, (d) know how to intervene or provide help, and (e) implement intervention decisions. Nickerson and colleagues (2014) developed a measure, the Bystander Intervention Model in Bullying Questionnaire, as a way to assess the five steps of the Bystander Intervention Model in bullying and sexual harassment situations among high school students. Results of structural equation modeling analyses revealed a good model fit, with engagement in each step of the Bystander Intervention Model being influenced by engagement in the previous step, providing a measurement model that can inform bullying intervention efforts. Researchers have also examined an adapted version of the Bystander Intervention Model in Bullying Questionnaire for middle school students, with confirmatory factor analysis supporting the five-step model and demonstrating positive correlations between engagement in each step of the Bystander Intervention Model and defending behavior in bullying situations (Jenkins & Nickerson, 2016). Applying the Bystander Intervention Model to school-based bullying prevention programs can inform program development and evaluation, with the goal of helping counselors understand how to equip students with skills to engage in all steps of the model, enhancing program outcomes through an increase in defending behavior. To date, however, no researchers have examined bystander training within the context of the Bystander Intervention Model.
The STAC Intervention
STAC (Midgett et al., 2015), which stands for four bystander intervention strategies—Stealing the Show, Turning It Over, Accompanying Others, and Coaching Compassion—is a brief bullying bystander intervention. The program is designed to provide education about bullying, including the definition of bullying and its negative associated consequences; emphasize the importance of intervening in bullying situations; and teach students prosocial skills they can use to intervene as a “defender” when they witness bullying. As a school-based program, STAC was developed to be delivered by school counselors during classroom lessons (Midgett et al., 2015). Research indicates STAC is effective in reducing bullying victimization (Moran et al., 2019) and bullying perpetration (Midgett et al., 2020; Moran et al., 2019) among middle school students. Additionally, researchers have found that middle school students trained in the STAC program reported a decrease in depressive symptoms (Midgett & Doumas, 2020; Midgett et al., 2020), social anxiety (Midgett & Doumas, 2020), and passive suicide ideation (Midgett et al., 2020), while also experiencing a positive sense of self after implementing the STAC strategies (Midgett, Moody, et al., 2017).
Alignment Between the Bystander Intervention Model and the STAC Intervention
The STAC intervention includes didactic and experiential components that are aligned with the five steps of the Bystander Intervention Model. First, the facilitators of the STAC program provide education about bullying, what it is and what it is not, and the negative associated consequences of bullying. This information can promote student engagement in the first two steps of the Bystander Intervention Model (i.e., Notice the Event and Interpret the Event as an Emergency). Next, facilitators of the STAC program emphasize the importance of intervening in bullying situations, which can promote student engagement in the third step of the Bystander Intervention Model (i.e., Accept Responsibility). Finally, facilitators of the STAC program train students to use prosocial skills they can use as bystanders to intervene as a “defender” when they witness bullying. The program also includes skills practice for strategy implementation through role-play activities and booster sessions. Skills training and practice are aligned with the last two steps of the Bystander Intervention Model (i.e., Know How to Intervene and Decision to Intervene). Although research indicates that middle school students trained in the STAC program report increases in knowledge and confidence (Midgett et al., 2015; Midgett & Doumas, 2020; Midgett, Doumas, et al., 2017; Moran et al., 2019) and use of the STAC strategies post-training (Midgett & Doumas, 2020; Moran et al., 2019), to date, no research has examined the impact of the STAC intervention on student engagement in the five steps of the Bystander Intervention Model or how engagement in the five steps is related to post–STAC training defending behavior.
The Present Study
The purpose of this study is to expand the literature by examining changes in engagement in the five steps of the Bystander Intervention Model among middle school students. First, using a quasi-experimental design, we aim to examine changes in engagement between bystanders and non-bystanders. We also aim to assess which of the five steps are associated with post-training defending behavior. Researchers have demonstrated that each of the five steps of the Bystander Intervention Model correlates with defending behavior among middle school students (Jenkins & Nickerson, 2016). To date, however, no study has examined if bystander training increases engagement in the five steps of the model and if the five steps are related to defending behavior after bystander training. The STAC bystander intervention teaches bystanders to act as defenders by providing education about bullying and equipping students with the knowledge and skills to intervene in bullying situations (Midgett et al., 2015). To date, however, no researchers have examined the impact of the STAC intervention on student engagement in the five steps of the Bystander Intervention Model or how engagement in the five steps is related to defending behavior after bystander training. To address this gap, we used a quasi-experimental design to answer the following research questions:
Research Question 1: Are there differences in student engagement in the five steps of the
Bystander Intervention Model from baseline (T1) to the 6-week
follow-up (T2) between bystanders and non-bystanders?
Research Question 2: Is there a difference in defending behavior from baseline (T1) to the
6-week follow-up (T2) between bystanders and non-bystanders?
Research Question 3: Engagement in which of the five steps of the Bystander Intervention
Model uniquely predicts defending behavior at the 6-week follow-up (T2)?
Methods
Participants
The sampling frame for recruitment included all students in grades 6–8 at a single private school in the Northwest. The school had a total enrollment of 362 students in grades K–8, with a student body comprised of 80% of students identifying as White, 14% Hispanic, 3% Two or More Races, 1% Asian American, 1% Black/African American, and < 1% Native American or Native Hawaiian. The researchers invited all students in grades 6–8 to participate (N = 127). Inclusion criteria included being enrolled in sixth, seventh, or eighth grade; speaking and reading English; and having parental consent and student assent to participate. Exclusion criteria included inability to speak or read English and not having parental consent or not assenting to participate. Of the 127 students invited, 90 (70.9%) parents/guardians provided informed consent and 87 students (68.5%) assented to participate; 79 of those students (90.8%) completed the 6-week (T2) follow-up assessment. Among participants, 62.1% self-identified as female and 37.9% self-identified as male. Participant age ranged from 11–14 years (M = 12.22 and SD = 0.92), with reported race/ethnicity of 63.3% White, 8.9% Hispanic, 2.5% Black/African American, 3.8% Asian American, 15.2% Two or More Races, and 6.3% Other. There were no differences in gender, c2(1) = .01, p = .98; grade, c2(2) = .61, p = .74; race/ethnicity, c2(5) = 4.41, p = .49; or age, t (85) = .41, p = .52, between students who completed the follow-up assessment and those who did not.
Procedure
The university IRB approved all study procedures. A member of our research team explained the purpose of the training and study procedures to all students during classtime, invited students to participate, and provided students with an informed consent form to take home to parents/guardians. Immediately prior to collecting baseline data (T1), our team members collected assent forms from students who had a signed informed consent form. Our team members conducted the STAC training in two 45-minute modules, followed by two weekly 15-minute booster sessions. Students completed a 6-week follow-up survey (T2). Trainers conducted the STAC intervention through six groups (two per grade level) ranging from 20–30 students per group. All students participated in the training; however, only those with informed consent and assent participated in the data collection. All procedures occurred during classroom time.
The STAC Program
Didactic Component. In the STAC program, trainers present educational information that includes (a) an overview of bullying; (b) different types of bullying (i.e., physical, verbal, relational, and cyberbullying); (c) characteristics of students who bully; (d) reasons students bully; (e) negative consequences associated with being a target, perpetrator, and/or bystander; (f) the role of the bystander and the importance of acting as a “defender”; (g) perceived barriers for intervening; and (h) the STAC strategies described below.
Stealing the Show. “Stealing the show” is a strategy aimed at interrupting a bullying situation by using humor, storytelling, or other forms of distraction to get the attention off of the bullying situation and the target. Students learn how to identify bullying situations that are appropriate to intervene in using this strategy. Students are trained not to use “stealing the show” to intervene during physical or cyberbullying.
Turning It Over. “Turning it over” involves seeking out a trusted adult to intervene in difficult bullying situations. Students learn how to identify bullying situations that require adult intervention, specifically physical bullying, cyberbullying, and/or any bullying situation they do not feel comfortable intervening in directly.
Accompanying Others. “Accompanying others” is a strategy aimed at offering support to the target of bullying. Students learn to comfort targets either directly by asking them if they would like to talk about the incident or indirectly by spending time with them.
Coaching Compassion. “Coaching compassion” is a strategy aimed at helping the perpetrator of bullying to develop empathy for students who are targets. Students learn to safely and gently confront those who are perpetrators by engaging them in a conversation about the impacts of bullying and communicating that bullying behavior is never acceptable. Trainers teach students to use this strategy only when they are friends with the perpetrator, are older than the perpetrator, or believe they have higher social status and will be respected by the perpetrator.
Experiential Component. Students participate in small group role-plays to practice each of the four STAC strategies across varying bullying scenarios. These scenarios include different types of bullying, such as spreading rumors, verbal and physical bullying, and cyberbullying. Each small group presents a role-play to the larger group and trainers provide both positive and constructive feedback to help students use the strategy more effectively in the future.
Booster Sessions. Students participate in two booster sessions to reinforce learning and skill acquisition. During the booster session, trainers review the STAC strategies, encourage students to share their experiences using the strategies, and brainstorm ways to help students be more effective defenders. The trainers invite students to share bullying situations that they have observed, including those in which they did not intervene, and then brainstorm with other students how they could intervene in the future.
Intervention Fidelity. The developer of STAC trained the trainers previously, and both trainers had experience delivering the STAC intervention prior to this study. The first author, Matthew Peck, served as one of two trainers during the intervention training used in this study; the other was a graduate student not involved in the later development of this article. The third author, Aida Midgett, was present during the training to ensure it was delivered with fidelity. Midgett completed a dichotomous rating scale (Yes or No) to evaluate whether the trainers accurately taught the material and whether they deviated from the intervention protocol, and determined that the trainers delivered the STAC training with high levels of fidelity.
Measures
Demographic Survey
Participants completed a demographic survey including questions about gender, grade, age, and race/ethnicity. Participants indicated their gender, grade, and age through open-ended questions and provided their race/ethnicity through response choices.
Bystander Intervention Model Steps
We assessed the five steps of the Bystander Intervention Model using the 16-item Bystander Intervention in Bullying Questionnaire (Nickerson et al., 2014). The original scale was developed for high school students and focused on bullying and sexual harassment. Jenkins and Nickerson (2016) adapted the scale for middle school students to focus on bullying only. The questionnaire is comprised of five scales: Notice the Event (3 items), Interpret the Event as an Emergency (3 items), Accept Responsibility (3 items), Know How to Act (3 items), and Decision to Intervene (4 items). Each item is rated on a 5-point Likert scale ranging from 1 (strongly disagree) to 5 (strongly agree). Example items include: “I am aware that students at my school are bullied” (Notice), “I think bullying is hurtful and damaging to others” (Interpret), “I feel personally responsible to intervene and assist in resolving bullying incidents” (Accept), “I have the skills to support a student who is being treated disrespectfully” (Know), and “I would say something to a student who is acting mean or disrespectful to a more vulnerable student” (Intervene). Confirmatory factor analyses support the five-factor structure, and convergent validity analyses using the Defending subscale of the Bullying Participant Behaviors Questionnaire (Summers & Demaray, 2008) has been demonstrated by providing positive correlations ranging from .26 to .35 among middle school students (Jenkins & Nickerson, 2016). Researchers have also demonstrated high internal consistency for the subscales among middle school students, with Cronbach’s alpha coefficients ranging from .77 to .87 for the five subscales (Jenkins & Nickerson, 2016). For the current sample, the scales had acceptable internal consistency with Cronbach’s alphas ranging from .66 to .71. For the Interpret subscale, we deleted one item (i.e., “It is evident to me that someone who is being bullied needs help”) to reach an acceptable level of internal consistency (α = .66) for the scale.
Defending Behavior
We utilized the 3-item Defender subscale of the Participants Roles Questionnaire (PRQ; Salmivalli et al., 2005) to measure defending behaviors students may use to intervene when witnessing bullying. The subscale includes the following items: “I comfort the victim or encourage him/her to tell the teacher about the bullying,” “I tell the others to stop bullying,” and “I try to make the others stop bullying.” Items are rated on a 3-point Likert scale ranging from 0 (never) to 2 (often). Confirmatory factor analyses support the five-factor structure of the PRQ measure, and construct validity has been demonstrated through significant associations between self-reported roles and sociometric status (e.g., popular, rejected, and average), χ2 = 117.7–141.6, all p values < .001, and peer nominations, χ2 = 57.9–88.2, all p values < .001 (Goossens et al., 2006). Among middle school students, the Defender subscale has good internal reliability ranging from α = .79–.93 (Camodeca & Goossens, 2005; Salmivalli et al., 2005). For
the current sample, Cronbach’s alpha was high (α = .80).
Bystander Status
We assessed bystander status by asking participants, “Have you seen bullying at school in the past month?” with response choices Yes and No. The item was developed by the second author, Diana M. Doumas, to assess whether or not students had the opportunity to respond to a bullying incident. Students who reported Yes were classified as bystanders (i.e., the student witnessed bullying and had the opportunity to respond) and students who reported No were classified as non-bystanders (i.e., students who did not witness bullying and, therefore, did not have the opportunity to respond). The item has face validity and researchers have utilized this item previously to measure bystander status among middle school students (Midgett & Doumas, 2020; Moran et al., 2019). In this study, the 30.4% of students who reported Yes to this item at the follow-up assessment (T2) were classified as bystanders, and the 59.6% of students who reported No were classified as non-bystanders.
Data Analyses
We conducted all analyses using SPSS version 28.0. We imputed missing data and examined all variables for skew and kurtosis. We used a general linear model (GLM) repeated measures multivariate analyses of covariance (RM-MANCOVA) to examine changes in engagement in the five steps of the Bystander Intervention Model between bystanders and non-bystanders across time for the outcome variables Notice the Event, Interpret the Event as an Emergency, Accept Responsibility, Know How to Act, and Decision to Intervene. The independent variables were Time (baseline [T1]; follow-up [T2]) and Bystander Status (bystander; non-bystander). We also controlled for gender, age, and witnessing bullying at baseline. We conducted post-hoc GLM repeated measures analyses of covariance (RM-ANCOVAs) for each outcome variable. We plotted simple slopes to examine the direction and degree of the significant interactions testing moderator effects (Aiken & West, 1991). We only interpreted significant main effects in the absence of significant interaction effects. For changes in defending behavior, we used a GLM RM-ANCOVA. The independent variables and control variables paralleled the RM-MANCOVA analysis. We conducted a linear multiple regression to examine engagement of the five steps of the Bystander Intervention Model as predictors of post-training defending behavior. The five steps were entered simultaneously in the regression analysis. We calculated bivariate correlations among the criterion and predictor variables prior to conducting the main regression analyses. We examined the variance inflation factor (VIF) for predictors to assess multicollinearity. We calculated effect size for the ANCOVA models using partial eta squared (ηp2) with .01 considered small, .06 considered medium, and .14 considered large (Cohen, 1969) and for the regression model using R2 with .01 considered small, .09 considered medium, and .25 considered large (Cohen, 1969). A p-value of < .05 indicated statistical significance.
Results
Preliminary Analyses
Means and standard deviations for the five steps of the Bystander Intervention Model and defending behavior are presented in Tables 1 and 2. Skew and kurtosis were satisfactory and did not substantially deviate from the normal distribution for all variables. Bivariate correlations for the criterion and predictor variables are presented in Table 3. Although several of the correlations between the predictor variables were significant at p < .01, the VIF ranged between 1.08–2.69, with corresponding tolerance levels ranging from .37–.93. The VIF is well below the rule of thumb of VIF < 10 (Erford, 2015), suggesting acceptable levels of multicollinearity among the predictor variables.
Changes in the Bystander Intervention Model
Results of the RM-MANCOVA indicated a significant main effect for Time, Wilks’ lambda = .86, F(5, 70) = 2.32, p =.05, ηp2 = .14., and a significant interaction effect for Time x Bystander Status, Wilks’ lambda = .77, F(5, 70) = 4.15, p =.002, ηp2 = .23. As seen in Table 1, post-hoc RM-ANCOVAs indicated a significant main effect for Time x Know How to Act (p < .02) and Decision to Intervene (p < .01), as well as significant interaction effects for Time x Bystander Status for Notice the Event (p < .001) and Decision to Intervene (p < .05). Results indicate that Know How to Act increased from baseline (T1) to the follow-up assessment (T2) for both bystanders and non-bystanders. Examination of the significant Time x Bystander Status interaction effects revealed that bystanders reported an increase in Notice the Event and Decision to Intervene, whereas non-bystanders reported a decrease in engagement in these steps of the Bystander Intervention Model (see Figures 1 and 2).
Changes in Defending Behavior
As seen in Table 2, results of the RM-ANCOVA indicated a significant interaction effect for Time x Bystander Status for defending behavior (p < .04). As seen in Figure 3, bystanders reported an increase in defending behavior from T1 to T2, whereas non-bystanders reported a decrease in defending behavior from T1 to T2.
The Relationship Between the Bystander Intervention Model and Defending Behavior
As seen in Table 3, bivariate correlations revealed a positive association between post-training defending behavior and Notice the Event (p < .01), Accept Responsibility (p < .05), Know How to Act (p < .05), and Decision to Intervene (p < .01). We next conducted a linear multiple regression analysis to examine the unique effect of each of the five steps on post-training defending behavior. The full regression equation was significant, R2 = .18, F(53, 7) = 4.39, p = .002. As seen in Table 4, Notice the Event (p < .01) and Decision to Intervene (p < .05) were significant predictors of post-training defending behavior.
Table 1
Descriptive Statistics and Results of the RM-MANCOVAs for Engagement in the Five Steps of the Bystander Intervention Model by Time and Bystander Status
|
Bystander
(n = 24) |
Non-Bystander
(n = 55) |
Total
(n = 79) |
Time |
Time x Bystander Status |
|
M (SD) |
M (SD) |
M (SD) |
F(5, 70) |
p |
ηp2 |
F(5, 70) |
p |
ηp2 |
| Notice the Event |
|
|
1.12 |
.29 |
.02 |
14.10*** |
.001 |
.16 |
| Baseline |
8.75 (2.21) |
7.76 (2.35) |
8.06 (2.34) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Follow-Up |
9.50 (2.23) |
6.31 (2.36) |
7.28 (2.74) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Interpret as Emergency |
|
|
1.68 |
.20 |
.02 |
0.08 |
.78 |
.001 |
| Baseline |
8.98 (1.05) |
8.58 (1.47) |
8.70 (1.36) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Follow-Up |
8.54 (1.56) |
8.36 (1.46) |
8.42 (1.48) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Accept Responsibility |
|
|
0.81 |
.37 |
.01 |
2.62 |
.11 |
.03 |
| Baseline |
11.12 (2.26) |
11.63 (2.17) |
11.49 (2.19) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Follow-Up |
11.38 (1.91) |
11.09 (2.25) |
11.18 (2.14) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Know How to Act |
|
|
5.31* |
.02 |
.07 |
1.75 |
.19 |
.02 |
| Baseline |
10.63 (1.81) |
10.95 (2.26) |
10.85 (2.12) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Follow-Up |
11.63 (2.34) |
11.54 (1.78) |
11.56 (1.95) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Decision to Intervene |
|
|
6.73** |
.01 |
.08 |
4.12* |
.05 |
.05 |
| Baseline |
15.46 (2.47) |
16.25 (2.24) |
16.01 (2.32) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Follow-Up |
15.71 (2.35) |
15.69 (2.43) |
15.70 (2.39) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| *p < .05, **p < .01,***p < .001. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Table 2
Descriptive Statistics and Results of the RM-ANCOVA for Defending Behavior by Time and Bystander Status
|
Bystander
(n = 24) |
Non-Bystander
(n = 55) |
Total
(n = 79) |
Time |
Time x Bystander Status |
|
M (SD) |
M (SD) |
M (SD) |
F(1, 74) |
p |
ηp2 |
F(1, 74) |
p |
ηp2 |
| Defending Behavior |
|
|
1.36 |
.25 |
.02 |
4.61* |
.04 |
.06 |
| Baseline |
3.17 (1.46) |
2.84 (1.81) |
2.94 (1.71) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Follow-Up |
3.67 (1.66) |
2.41 (1.89) |
2.79 (1.90) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
*p < .05.
Table 3
Bivariate Correlations for Defending Behavior and the Five Steps of the Bystander Intervention Model
| Measure |
1 |
2 |
3 |
4 |
5 |
6 |
| 1. Defending Behavior |
__ |
|
|
|
|
|
| 2. Notice the Event |
.31** |
__ |
|
|
|
|
| 3. Interpret as an Emergency |
.04 |
.09 |
__ |
|
|
|
| 4. Accept Responsibility |
.23* |
.11 |
.30** |
__ |
|
|
| 5. Know How to Act |
.26* |
−.07 |
.01 |
.67** |
__ |
|
| 6. Decision to Intervene |
.38** |
.11 |
.29** |
.56** |
.63** |
__ |
*p < .05, **p < .01.
Table 4
Summary of Linear Multiple Regression Analyses for the Five Steps of the Bystander Intervention Model
| Variable |
B |
SE B |
β |
t(73) |
95% CI |
| Notice the Event |
.20 |
.07 |
.29** |
2.70 |
[.05, .35] |
| Interpret as an Emergency |
−.10 |
.15 |
−.08 |
−0.68 |
[−.40, .20] |
| Accept Responsibility |
−.02 |
.14 |
−.02 |
−0.12 |
[−.29, .25] |
| Know How to Act |
.08 |
.16 |
.08 |
0.49 |
[−.25, .41] |
| Decision to Intervene |
.27 |
.12 |
.33* |
2.30 |
[.04, .50] |
Note. SE = standard error, CI = confidence interval.
*p < .05, **p < .01.
Figure 1
Means for Notice the Event by Time and Bystander Status
Note. Simple slopes are shown depicting the direction and degree of the significant interaction testing moderator effects (p = .001). Bystanders reported an increase in Notice the Event and non-bystanders reported a decrease in Notice the Event.
Figure 2
Means for Decision to Intervene by Time and Bystander Status
Note. Simple slopes are shown depicting the direction and degree of the significant interaction testing moderator effects (p = .05). Bystanders reported an increase in Decision to Intervene and non-bystanders reported a decrease in Decision to Intervene.
Figure 3
Means for Defending Behavior by Time and Bystander Status
Note. Simple slopes are shown depicting the direction and degree of the significant interaction testing moderator effects (p = .05). Bystanders reported an increase in defending behavior and non-bystanders reported a decrease in defending behavior.
Discussion
The purpose of this study was to extend the literature on bystander interventions by examining the STAC intervention in the context of the Bystander Intervention Model. This is the first study to identify positive changes in engagement in steps of the Bystander Intervention Model following implementation of a bystander bullying intervention (i.e., STAC) and to illustrate how engagement in the steps of the model relates to post-training defending behavior. Overall, results indicate students trained in STAC reported changes in engagement in three of the five steps of the model and an increase in defending behavior from baseline (T1) to the 6-week follow-up assessment (T2). Further, two of the five steps of the model were uniquely associated with post-training defending behavior.
Findings indicate that there were significant changes in the Bystander Intervention Model steps of Notice the Event, Know How to Act, and Decision to Intervene from baseline (T1) to the 6-week follow-up (T2). For Know How to Act, there was a significant increase for both bystanders and non-bystanders from baseline (T1) to the 6-week follow-up assessment (T2). These findings parallel prior research on the STAC intervention that indicates students trained in the program report an increase in knowledge and confidence to intervene in bullying situations (Midgett et al., 2015; Midgett & Doumas, 2020; Midgett, Moody, et al., 2017; Moran et al., 2019). For Notice the Event and Decision to Intervene, we found differences between bystanders and non-bystanders over time, such that there was an increase in engagement in these steps among students who reported witnessing bullying but a decrease among students who did not report witnessing bullying after training. Findings among bystanders are consistent with previous research demonstrating that students trained in the STAC intervention report an increase in ability to identify bullying (Midgett, Doumas, et al., 2017), awareness of bullying situations (Johnston et al., 2018), and confidence to intervene (Midgett et al., 2015; Midgett & Doumas, 2020; Midgett, Doumas, et al., 2017; Moran et al., 2019). In contrast, non-bystanders may have reported a decrease in these steps because they did not witness bullying after training.
We did not find significant differences from baseline (T1) to the 6-week follow-up (T2) for either group in engagement in the steps Interpret the Event as an Emergency and Accept Responsibility. For Interpret the Event as an Emergency, a possible explanation for this finding is that students reported high scores on this step at baseline. After removing one item on the scale to achieve adequate internal reliability, the maximum score on the scale was 10.00, with a baseline mean of 8.98 for bystanders and 8.58 for non-bystanders. Thus, students in this sample already had a high understanding of the significance of bullying and the importance of helping targets of bullying, which may have been communicated to them prior to our study when the school decided to implement a bullying intervention program. For Accept Responsibility, while the STAC program was designed to provide students with knowledge, skills, and confidence to intervene in bullying situations, the training content is less focused on taking personal responsibility when witnessing bullying. Thus, this may be an important area for future development, emphasizing the importance of each student taking personal responsibility for acting as a “defender” and that by doing that, each student has an important role in reducing bullying and shifting school climate in a positive direction.
Findings also reveal differences in defending behavior from baseline (T1) to the 6-week follow-up (T2) based on bystander status. Specifically, students who witnessed bullying post-training reported an increase in defending behavior, whereas students who did not witness bullying behavior post-training reported a decrease in defending behavior. Findings among the student bystanders are consistent with research demonstrating that more than 90% of middle school students who witness bullying post-training use the STAC strategies to intervene in bullying situations (Midgett & Doumas, 2020;
Moran et al., 2019). The decrease in defending behavior among students who did not witness bullying post-training can likely be explained by the lack of opportunity to utilize defending behavior.
Finally, we examined engagement in the five steps of the Bystander Intervention Model as predictors of post-training defending behavior. Although prior research indicates that engagement in each of the five steps of the Bystander Intervention Model correlate positively with defending behavior among middle school students (Jenkins & Nickerson, 2016), this is the first study to examine the unique effect of engagement in each of the five steps on post–bystander training defending behavior. Results of the regression analysis indicated that Notice the Event and Decision to Intervene were significant predictors of defending behavior. These findings are particularly promising, as engagement in the steps Notice the Event and Decision to Intervene both increased from baseline (T1) to the 6-week follow-up (T2) for students who witnessed bullying after training. Thus, among students who witness bullying as bystanders, the STAC intervention was effective in increasing engagement in the two steps of the bystander model that are uniquely associated with defending behavior.
Limitations and Future Research
Although this study extends research on the Bystander Intervention Model, as it is the first study to examine engagement in the steps of the model in the context of a bystander intervention, there are some limitations. First, the sampling frame included a single recruitment location at a private school in the Northwest, and our final sample was relatively small and composed of English-speaking students who were primarily White. Thus, we cannot generalize our findings to students enrolled in ethnically diverse, public middle schools. Further, because the current study did not include a control group, we cannot make causal attributions about our findings. Future studies with larger, more diverse samples using a randomized controlled design should be conducted to increase generalizability and address causality. Additionally, only one third of students in the current sample reported witnessing bullying post-training. Although prior research indicates 80% of students reported witnessing bullying in the past year, our measure of bystander status was limited to witnessing bullying in the past month, as we aimed to capture witnessing bullying post-training. Future research with a longer follow-up would be useful, as the sample of bystanders would likely be larger with more time between the STAC training and follow-up assessment. Additionally, the item we used to assess bystander status was developed by one of our authors and, although it has face validity, the construct validity of the item has not yet been established. Next, Cronbach’s alphas for the Bystander Intervention Model in Bullying Questionnaire scales were lower than found in initial validation research. Additionally, although all Cronbach’s alphas were ultimately in the acceptable range, we needed to eliminate an item from the Interpret the Event as an Emergency scale to achieve adequate internal consistency. Finally, our findings were based on self-report data, potentially leading to biased reporting. Thus, including objective measures of observable “defending” behavior would strengthen the findings.
Implications
The current study provides important implications for counselors related to supporting the role of bystanders in bullying prevention. First, findings add to the growing body of literature supporting the STAC intervention as an effective school-based bullying prevention program. Because 28% of middle school students report being bullied (CDC, 2020), and bullying victimization (Moore et al., 2017) and witnessing bullying (Doumas & Midgett, 2021; Midgett & Doumas, 2019) are associated with significant mental health risks, it is imperative that students are equipped with skills they can use to act as “defenders.” Middle school counselors can implement STAC as a brief, school-wide intervention through core curriculum classroom lessons as part of a school counseling curriculum.
Second, by focusing on specific steps within the Bystander Intervention Model, counselors can break down the complex process of bullying bystander behavior and have a better understanding of what enables students to intervene when they witness bullying. Notice the Event and Decision to Intervene were both unique predictors of defending behavior among bystanders post-training. Thus, when delivering the STAC intervention, school counselors can increase awareness of bullying by providing education related to the definition of bullying, including what bullying is and is not, as well as the different types of bullying. School counselors can also encourage students to decide to intervene when they witness bullying by providing the skills and confidence needed to intervene using one of the four STAC strategies. Booster sessions may be particularly helpful in promoting the decision to intervene, as school counselors can use this time to reinforce student strategy use.
Next, we did not find changes in engagement in the steps Interpret the Event as an Emergency or Accept Responsibility. The STAC intervention provides education on the negative consequences associated with bullying; this information could be highlighted by counselors within the STAC training to emphasize the magnitude of the problem of bullying and underscore the importance of identifying bullying as an emergency that needs to be addressed. Additionally, when discussing bystander roles, counselors can tie in the concept of why school personnel need students to help address bullying, focusing on the importance of each student taking personal responsibility for making a difference at school by acting as a defender. When conducting the STAC training, it may also be important to engage students who have not witnessed bullying. Although most students witness bullying at some point during adolescence, not all students have witnessed bullying, or witnessed bullying recently. Thus, it may be important to address this in the training, suggesting that even if a student has not witnessed bullying, it is important to learn about bullying and being a “defender,” as they may witness bullying in the future.
This study also provides implications for counselors working with youth outside of the school setting. Counselors can conceptualize bystander behavior using the Bystander Intervention Model, assessing engagement in each step of the model and providing education to enhance engagement in each step as needed. Counselors can teach youth about bullying behavior and the different types of bullying, provide information about the consequences of bullying to educate youth on the importance of interpreting bullying as a serious problem, and discuss the importance of taking personal responsibility when witnessing bullying. Consistent with Social Learning Theory (Bandura, 1977), counselors can use the STAC framework to equip youth with skills they can use to intervene when they witness bullying, which can provide opportunities for them to develop and strengthen their self-efficacy through social modeling and mastery experiences to overcome potential challenges. Because self-efficacy influences the decision-making process, the ability to act in the face of difficulty, and the amount of emotional distress experienced while completing a difficult task (Bandura, 2012), self-efficacy can be an important factor in mobilizing youth to engage in the steps of the Bystander Intervention Model. By working with youth on these steps, counselors can empower youth to intervene when they witness bullying and provide youth with prosocial skills they can use to intervene effectively.
Further, this study provides implications for counselor educators. Efforts to reduce bullying and the associated long-standing negative effects on students are widespread in the field, whether working inside schools or in clinical settings. Conversations related to bystander bullying intervention, however, do not seem to have entered counselor education classrooms on a wide scale. Counselor educators can share findings from this study in their courses to educate counseling students on how to provide youth who witness bullying with useful strategies that empower them to confront future instances of school bullying and cyberbullying. The Bystander Intervention Model and the STAC intervention can be infused into the counselor education curriculum to prepare counselors-in-training to work with youth as allies in the prevention of school bullying.
Conclusion
This was the first study to examine if a bullying bystander intervention increases student engagement in the five steps of the Bystander Intervention Model and if engagement in the five steps of the model is related to post-training defending behavior. Results indicate that from baseline (T1) to the 6-week follow-up (T2), both bystanders and non-bystanders trained in the STAC intervention reported changes in Know How to Act, whereas only bystanders reported increases in Notice the Event, Decision to Intervene, and defending behavior. Further, Notice the Event and Decision to Intervene were uniquely associated with post-training defending behavior. Results underscore the importance of guiding students through the bystander process in bullying prevention and provide additional support for the effectiveness of the STAC intervention.
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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Matthew Peck, PhD, LPC, is an assistant professor at the University of Arkansas. Diana M. Doumas, PhD, LPC, is Distinguished Professor of Counselor Education at Boise State University. Aida Midgett, PhD, LPC, is a professor at Boise State University. Correspondence may be addressed to Matthew Peck, 100 Graduate Education Building, University of Arkansas, Fayetteville, AR 72701, mattpeck@uark.edu.
Sep 13, 2024 | Volume 14 - Issue 2
Sapna B. Chopra, Rebekah Smart, Yuying Tsong, Olga L. Mejía, Eric W. Price
This mixed methods program evaluation study was designed to assist faculty in better understanding students’ multicultural and social justice training experiences, with the goal of improving program curriculum and instruction. It also offers a model for counselor educators to assess student experiences and to make changes that center social justice. A total of 139 first-semester students and advanced practicum students responded to an online survey. The Consensual Qualitative Research-Modified (CQR-M) method was used to analyze brief written narratives. The Multicultural Counseling Competence and Training Survey (MCCTS) and the Advocacy Competencies Self-Assessment Survey (ACSA) were used to triangulate the qualitative data. Qualitative findings revealed student growth in awareness, knowledge, skills, and action, particularly for advanced students, with many students reporting a desire for more social justice instruction. Some students of color reported microaggressions and concerns that training centers White students. Quantitative analyses generally supported the qualitative findings and showed advanced students reporting higher multicultural and advocacy competencies compared to beginning students. Implications for counselor education are discussed.
Keywords: social justice, program evaluation, training, multicultural counseling, counselor education
In the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic and the long-standing inequities it brought to light, many universities began examining the ways that injustice unfolds within their institutions (Mull, 2020). Arredondo et al. (2020) noted that counseling and counselor education continue to uphold white supremacy and center the experiences of White people within theories, training, and research. White supremacy culture promotes Whiteness as the norm and standard, intersects with and reinforces other forms of oppression, and shows up in institutions in both overt and covert ways, such as emphasis on individualism, avoidance of conflict, and prioritizing White comfort (Okun, 2021). Arredondo et al. (2020) called for counselor educators to engage in social justice advocacy and to unpack covert White supremacy in training programs. The present study investigated the multicultural and social justice training experiences of students in a Western United States counseling program so that counseling faculty can be empowered to uncover biases and better integrate social justice in the curriculum.
Counselor education programs are products of the larger sociopolitical environment and dominant patriarchal, cis-heteronormative, Eurocentric culture that often fails to “challenge the hegemonic views that marginalize groups of people” which “perpetuate deficit-based ideologies” (Goodman et al., 2015, p. 148). For example, the focus on the individual in traditional counseling theories can reinforce oppression by failing to address the role of systemic oppression in a client’s distress (Singh et al., 2020). Counseling theory textbooks usually provide an ancillary section at the end of each chapter focusing on multicultural issues (Cross & Reinhardt, 2017). White supremacy culture is so ubiquitous that it is typically invisible to those immersed within it (DiAngelo, 2018). It is not surprising then that counseling is often viewed as a White, middle-class endeavor, and BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color) clients frequently perceive that they should leave their cultural identities and experiences outside the counseling session (Turner, 2018). Counselor educators have been encouraged to reflect on how Eurocentric curricula and pedagogy may marginalize students and seek liberatory teaching practices that promote critical consciousness (Sharma & Hipolito-Delgado, 2021).
Students’ Perceptions of Their Growth, Learning Process, and Critiques of Their Training
Studies of mostly White graduate students show gains in expanding awareness of their own biases and privilege, knowledge about other cultures and experiences of oppression, as well as the importance of empowering and advocating for clients (Beer et al., 2012; Collins et al., 2015; Sanabria & DeLorenzi, 2019; Singh et al., 2010). Others indicated the benefits of integrating feminist principles in treatment (Hoover & Morrow, 2016; Singh et al., 2010). Consciousness-raising and self-reflection were key parts of multicultural and social justice learning (Collins et al., 2015; Hoover & Morrow, 2016), and could be emotionally challenging. Indeed, Goodman et al. (2018) identified a theme of internal grappling reflecting students’ experiences of intellectual and emotional struggle; others noted students’ experiences of overwhelm and isolation (Singh et al., 2010), as well as resistance, such as withdrawing or dismissing information that challenged their existing belief system (Seward, 2019). Researchers have also documented student complaints about their social justice training; for example, that social justice is not well integrated or that there was inadequate coverage of skills and action (Collins et al., 2015). Kozan and Blustein (2018) found that even among programs that espouse social justice, there was a lack of training in macro level advocacy skills. Barriers to engaging in advocacy included: lack of time (Field et al., 2019; Singh et al., 2010), emotional exhaustion stemming from observations of the harms caused by systemic inequities (Sanabria & DeLorenzi, 2019), and ill-informed supervisors (Sanabria & DeLorenzi, 2019).
The studies reviewed thus relied on samples of mainly White, cisgender, heterosexual women. Some noted that education on social justice is often centered on helping White students expand their awareness (Haskins & Singh, 2015). In one study focused on challenges faced by students of color, participants expressed frustration with the lack of diversity among their professors, classmates, and curriculum (Seward, 2019). Participants also experienced marginalization and disconnection when professors and students made offensive or culturally uninformed comments and when course content focused on teaching students with privileged identities. Students from marginalized communities also face isolation in academic settings and sometimes question the multicultural competence of their professors (Haskins & Singh, 2015), which in turn contributes to the underrepresentation of students of color in counseling and psychology (Arney et al., 2019).
The Present Study
Counselor educators must critically examine their curriculum, course materials, and overall learning climate for students (Haskins & Singh, 2015). Listening to students’ experiences and perceptions of their training offers faculty an opportunity to model cultural humility, gain useful feedback, and make necessary changes. Given the increased recognition of racial trauma and societal inequities, it is critical that counseling programs engage with students of diverse backgrounds as they seek to shift their pedagogy. Historically, academic institutions have responded to student demands with performative action rather than meaningful change (Zetzer, 2021). This mixed methods study is part of a larger process of counseling faculty working to invite student feedback and question internalized assumptions and biases in order to implement real change. The goal of program evaluation is to investigate strengths and weaknesses in order to improve the program (Royse et al., 2010). According to the 2024 Council for Accreditation of Counseling and Related Educational Programs (CACREP) standards, program evaluation is essential to assess and improve the program (CACREP, 2023). Thus, the purpose of this program evaluation study was to understand students’ self-assessment and experiences with the counseling program’s curriculum in the area of multicultural and social justice advocacy, with the overarching goal of program curriculum and instruction improvement. This article offers counselor educators a model of how to assess program effectiveness in multicultural and social justice teaching and practical suggestions based on the findings. The research questions were: What are beginning and advanced students’ self-perceptions regarding their multicultural and social justice advocacy competencies? What are beginning and advanced students’ perceptions of the multicultural and social justice advocacy competencies training they are receiving in their program?
Method
We employed a mixed method, embedded design in which the quantitative data offered a supportive and secondary role to the qualitative results (Creswell et al., 2003). Qualitative and mixed methods research designs are particularly useful in program evaluation (Royse et al., 2010). Mixed method approaches also offer value in research that centers social justice advocacy, as the integration of diverse methodological techniques within a single study fosters the understanding of multiple perspectives and facilitates a deeper comprehension of intricate issues (Ponterotto et al., 2013). We used an online survey to collect written narratives (qualitative) and survey data (quantitative) from two counseling courses: a beginning counseling course in the first semester (beginning students), and an advanced practicum course, taken by those who had completed at least part of their year-long practicum (advanced students).
Participants
Participants were counseling students enrolled in a CACREP-accredited program at a large West Coast public university in the United States that is both a federally designated Hispanic-serving institution and an Asian American and Native American Pacific Islander–serving institution. Responses were collected from two courses, which included 94 beginning students (84% response rate) and 62 advanced students (71% response rate). Twelve percent of the advanced practicum students also completed the survey when they were first-semester (beginning) students. The mean age of the 139 participants was 27.7 (SD = 7.11), ranging from 20 to 58 years. Racial identifications were 40.3% White, 33.1% Latinx, 14.4% Asian, 7.2% Biracial or Multiracial, 2.9% Black, 0.7% Middle Eastern, 0.7% American Indian/Alaska Native, and 0.7% Native Hawaiian/Pacific Islander. The majority identified as women (82.0%), followed by 14.4% as men, and 2.9% as nonbinary/queer. Students self-identified as heterosexual (71.2%), bisexual (11.5%), lesbian/gay (6.5%), queer (4.3%), pansexual (1.4%), and about 1% each as asexual, heteroflexible, and unsure. About 19.4% of students were enrolled in a bilingual/bicultural (Spanish/Latinx) emphasis within the program.
Procedure
After receiving university IRB approval, graduate students enrolled in the first-semester beginning counseling course (fall 2018 and 2019) or the advanced practicum course (summer 2019 and 2020) were asked to complete an online survey through Qualtrics with both quantitative measures and open-ended questions as part of their preparation for class discussion. Students were informed that this homework would not be graded and was not intended to “test” their knowledge but rather would serve as an opportunity to reflect on their experience of the program’s multicultural and social justice training. Students were also given the option to participate in the current study by giving permission for their answers to be used. Those who consented were asked to continue to complete the demographic questionnaire. In accordance with the American Counseling Association Code of Ethics (2014), students were informed that there would be no repercussions for not participating. A faculty member outside the counseling program managed the collection of and access to the raw data in order to protect the identities of the students and ensure that their participation or lack of participation in the study could not affect their grade for the course or standing in the program. All students, regardless of participation status, were given the option to enter an opportunity drawing for a small cash prize ($20 for data collection in 2018 and 2019, $25 for 2020) through a separate link not connected to their survey responses.
Data Collection
We collected brief written qualitative data and responses to two quantitative measures from both beginning and advanced students.
Qualitative Data
The faculty developed open-ended questions that would elicit student feedback on their multicultural and social justice training. Prior to beginning the counseling program, first-semester students were asked two questions about their experiences and impressions: How would you describe your knowledge about and interest in multiculturalism/diversity and social justice from a personal and/or academic perspective? and How would you describe your initial impressions or experience of the focus on multicultural and social justice in the program so far? They were also asked, if it was relevant, to include their experience in the Latinx counseling emphasis program component. Advanced students, who were seeing clients, were asked the same questions and also asked to: Consider/describe how this experience of multiculturalism and social justice in the program may impact you personally and professionally (particularly in work with clients) in the future.
Quantitative Data
Two instruments were selected to quantitatively assess students’ perceptions of their own multicultural and advocacy competencies. The Multicultural Counseling Competence and Training Survey (MCCTS; Holcomb-McCoy & Myers, 1999) is designed to assess counselors’ perceptions of their multicultural competence and the effectiveness of their training. The survey contains 32 statements for which participants answer on a 4-point Likert scale (not competent, somewhat competent, competent, extremely competent). Sample items include: “I can discuss family therapy from a cultural/ethnic perspective” and “I am able to discuss how my culture has influenced the way I think.” The reliability coefficients for each of the five components of the MCCTS ranged from .66 to .92: Multicultural Knowledge (.92), Multicultural Awareness (.92), Definitions of Terms (.79), Knowledge of Racial Identity Development Theories (.66), and Multicultural Skills (.91; Holcomb-McCoy & Myers, 1999). In this study, the Cronbach’s alpha coefficients ranged from .75 to .96.
The Advocacy Competencies Self-Assessment Survey (ACSA; Ratts & Ford, 2010) assesses for competency and effectiveness across six domains: (a) client/student empowerment, (b) community collaboration, (c) public information, (d) client/student advocacy, (e) systems advocacy, and (f) social/political advocacy. It contains 30 statements that ask participants to respond with “almost always,” “sometimes,” or “almost never.” Sample questions include “I help clients identify external barriers that affect their development” and “I lobby legislators and policy makers to create social change.” Although Ratts and Ford (2010) did not provide psychometrics of the original ACSA, it was validated with mental health counselors (Bvunzawabaya, 2012), suggesting an adequate internal consistency for the overall measure, but not the specific domains. In this study, the Cronbach’s alpha coefficients ranged from .69 to.79 for the six domains, and .94 for the overall scale. For the purposes of this study, we were not interested in specific domains and used the overall scale to assess students’ overall social justice/advocacy competencies.
Data Analysis
Qualitative Data Analysis
To analyze the qualitative data, we used Consensual Qualitative Research-Modified (CQR-M; Spangler et al., 2012), which was based on Hill et al.’s (2005) CQR but modified for larger numbers of participants with briefer responses. In contrast to the in-depth analysis of a small number of interviews, CQR-M was ideal for our data, which consisted of brief written responses from 139 participants. CQR-M involves a consensus process rather than interrater reliability among judges, who discuss and code the narratives, and relies on a bottom-up approach, in which categories
(i.e., themes) are derived directly from the data rather than using a pre-existing thematic structure. Frequencies (i.e., how many participants were represented in each category) are then calculated. We analyzed the beginning and advanced students’ responses separately, as the questions were adjusted for their time spent in the program.
After immersing themselves in the data, the first two authors, Sapna B. Chopra and Rebekah Smart, met to outline a preliminary coding structure, then met repeatedly to revise the coding into more abstract categories and subcategories. The computer program NVivo was used to organize the coding process and determine frequencies. After all data were coded, the fifth author, Eric W. Price, served as auditor and provided feedback on the overall coding structure. Both the consensus process and use of an auditor are helpful in countering biases and preconceptions. Brief quantitative data, as used in this study, can be used effectively as a means of triangulation (Spangler et al., 2012).
Quantitative Data Analysis
To examine for significant differences in the self-perceptions of multicultural competencies and advocacy competencies between White and BIPOC students as well as between beginning and advanced students, a two-way (2×2) ANOVA was conducted with the overall MCCT as the criterion variable and student levels (beginning, advanced) and race (White, BIPOC) as the two independent variables. In addition, two (5×2) multivariate analyses of variances (MANOVAs) were conducted with the five factors of multicultural competencies (knowledge, awareness, definition of terms, racial identity, and skills) as criterion variables and with student levels (beginning, advanced) and student races (White, BIPOC) as independent variables in each analysis. Data for beginning and advanced students were analyzed separately to assess whether time in the counseling program helped to expand their interest and commitment to social justice.
Research Team
We were intentional in examining our own social identities and potential biases throughout the research process. Chopra is a second-generation South Asian American, heterosexual, cisgender woman. Smart is a White European American, heterosexual, cisgender woman. Yuying Tsong identifies as a genderqueer first-generation Taiwanese and Chinese American immigrant. Olga L. Mejía is an Indigenous-identified Mexican immigrant, bisexual, cisgender woman. Price is a White, gay, cisgender male. All have experience as counselor educators and in qualitative research methods, and all have been actively engaged in decolonizing their syllabi and incorporating multicultural and social justice into their pedagogy.
Results
The research process was guided by the overarching question: What are beginning and advanced counseling students’ perceptions of their multicultural and social justice competencies and training and how can their feedback be used to improve their counselor education program? We explore the qualitative findings first, as the primary data for the study, followed by the quantitative data.
Qualitative Findings for Beginning Counseling Students
Two higher-order categories emerged from the beginning students’ narratives: developing competencies and learning process so far.
Developing Competencies
Students’ descriptions of the competencies they were developing included themes of awareness, knowledge, and skills and action. Some students entered the program with an already heightened awareness, while others were making new discoveries. Awareness included subthemes of humility (24.5%), awareness of own privilege (6.4%), and awareness of bias (3.2%). “There’s a lot to learn” was a typical sentiment, particularly from White students. One White female student wrote: “I definitely need more and I believe that open discussions, even hard ones would be some of the best ways to go about this.” A large group expressed knowledge of oppression and systemic inequities (33%); a smaller group referenced intersectionality (3.2%). Within skills and action, some students expressed specific intentions in allyship (11.7%); a number of students expressed commitment to social action but felt unsure how to engage in social justice (11.7%).
Learning Process So Far
Central themes in this category were support for growth, concerns in training, and internal challenges. Some students felt excited and supported, while some were cautiously optimistic or concerned. Support for growth was a strong theme that reflected excited and enthusiastic to learn (22.3%); appreciation for the Latinx emphasis (18.1%); and receiving support from professors and program (17.0%). For example, one Mexican student in the Latinx emphasis who noted that mental health was rarely discussed in her family shared: “For me to see that there is a program that teaches students how to communicate to individuals who are unsure of what counseling is about, gave me a sense of happiness and relief.”
A few students were adopting a wait-and-see attitude and expressed some concerns about their training. Although the percentage for these subthemes is low, they provide an important experience that we want to amplify. This theme had multiple subthemes. The subtheme concerns from students of color included centering White students (3.2%), microaggressions (3.2%), and lack of representation (1.1%). A student who identified as a Mexican immigrant shared experiences of microaggressions, including classmates using a hurtful derogatory phrase referring to immigrants with no comment from the professor until the student raised the issue. Concerns in training also included the subtheme concerns with how material is presented in classes (7.0%). For some, the concern related to the potential for harm in classes in which White and BIPOC students were encouraged to process issues of privilege and oppression. For example, one Asian Pacific Islander student wrote that although they appreciated the emphasis on social justice, “Time always runs out and I believe it’s careless and dangerous to cut off these types of conversations in a rushed manner.” A small minority seemed to suggest a backlash to the emphasis on social justice, stating that the content was presented in ways that were too “politically correct,” “biased,” or “repetitive.”
Multiple subthemes emerged from the theme of internal challenges. Both BIPOC and White students shared feeling afraid to speak up (5.3%). BIPOC students expressed struggling with confidence or wanting to avoid conflict, while White students’ fear of speaking up was also connected to discomfort and uncertainty as a White person (2.1%). A small minority of White students did not express explicit discomfort but seemed to engage in a color-blind strategy, as indicated in the theme of people are people (2.1%): “I find people are people, regardless of any differences, and love hearing the good and bad about everybody’s experiences.” Some students of color expressed limited knowledge about cultures other than one’s own (4.3%). For example, an Asian American student stated that they had gravitated to “those who were most similar to me” growing up. Lastly, a few students shared feeling overwhelmed and exhausted (3.2%).
Qualitative Findings for Advanced Counseling Students
Four higher-order themes emerged: competencies in process, multiculturalism and diversity in the program, social justice in the program, and the learning process.
Competencies in Process
Similar to beginning students, advanced students described growing self-awareness, knowledge and awareness of others, skills, and action. Their disclosures often related to clinical work, now that they had been seeing clients. Self-awareness included strong subthemes of: humility and desire to keep learning (25.8%); increased open-mindedness, acceptance of others, and compassion (22.6%); awareness of personal privilege and oppression (17.7%); awareness of personal bias and value systems (17.7%); and awareness of personal cultural identity (14.5%). One Mexican American student wrote: “I have also gained an increased awareness of how my prejudices can impact my work with clients and learned about how to check-in with myself.”
Knowledge and awareness of others had subthemes of privilege and oppression (19.4%) and increased knowledge of culture (14.5%), with awareness of the potential impact on clients. The advanced students also had more to say about skills, which included subthemes of diversity considerations in conceptualization (29%), and in treatment (12.9%), and cultural conversations in the therapy room (21%). One White student wrote: “I have been able to have difficult conversations that once were unheard of. I have also been able to bring culture, ethnicity, and oppression into the room so that my clients can feel understood and safe.” Within the theme of action, 52% wrote about their commitment to social justice and intention to advocate. Although this strongest subtheme suggested action was still more aspirational than currently enacted, a smaller group also wrote about the experiences that they have already had with client advocacy (12.9%), community and/or political action (12.9%), and unspecified action (11.3%).
Multiculturalism and Diversity in the Program
Many students (44%) indicated that they appreciated that multicultural issues were integrated or addressed well within the program. However, with more time spent in the program, 26% felt that there was more nuance, depth, or scope needed. Some wanted more attention to specific issues, such as disability, gender identity, and religion/spirituality. One Asian American student wrote that the focus had been “basic and surface-level,” adding “I feel like it has also generally catered to the protection of White feelings and voices, which is inherently complicit in the system of White supremacy, especially in higher ed.” Others (9.7%) said more training in clinical application was needed.
Social Justice in the Program
Students expressed a variety of opinions. The largest number (29%) were satisfied that social justice issues were well integrated into the program. Although more students were satisfied than not, many (24%) noted that social justice is addressed but not demonstrated. Similarly, 24% noted minimal attention, specifically that social justice was not addressed much beyond the one course focused on culture, and 24% noted a desire for more opportunities within the program to engage in advocacy. Some suggested requiring social justice work rather than leaving it as an optional activity. Others (13%), mostly from 2020, noted the relevance of current events and sociopolitical climate. One White student shared about a presentation on Black Lives Matter: “This project opened my eyes to my limited knowledge of systemic oppression in the U.S. and impacted me in ways that I will NEVER be the same.” A small number of students (3%) reported that there was no need or room for more training in social justice. One White student wrote that they felt “frustrated” and that the social justice “agenda is so in my face all the time,” adding “sometimes I feel like I am being trained to be an advocate and an activist, which is/are a different job.”
The Learning Process
Three central themes emerged: enrichment experienced, challenges, and suggestions for change. Many students were appreciative of their experience. A strong subtheme within enrichment experienced was professors’ encouragement and modeling (24%). Others commented on how much came from learning from peers (21%). Some shared feeling personally empowered (14.5%). For example, a student who identified as coming from an Asian culture wrote about the hesitancy to be an activist, stating, “There is an underlying belief that our voices will not really ever be heard which is strongly tied to systemic oppression and racism throughout history. Consequently, I appreciate this challenge to grow more in social justice issues.” Others shared ways that the program prompted them to engage in social justice outside the classroom (11.3%). For example, one student wrote: “This program gave me the knowledge and education I needed to make sure that when I did speak out I wasn’t just talking to talk. I would actually have facts, stats, evidence-based research to back up my argument.” A number of students noted the unique benefits of the Latinx program (9.7%). One Mexican American student reflected that they had learned about diversity within Latinx cultures, and that, “As a result, I feel more confident in being able to serve clients from various Latinx cultures or at least know where to obtain relevant information when needed.” Many students expressed a sense of belonging (8.1%).
Challenges. Nearly 10% wrote about struggling to make time [for social justice] and 6.5% noted the emotional impact. For example, one White student wrote: “It was a rude and brutal awakening, to say the least. It was riddled with emotion and heartache but was worth the process.” A few had conflicted or mixed feelings (8.1%)—they felt appreciative but wanted more. A few noted possible harm to marginalized students (6.5%). One Asian American student wrote that faculty should be “calling out microaggressions . . . otherwise, their stance on social justice feels more performative and about protecting their own liability rather than caring for their students of color.” A smaller number (4.8%) struggled with peers and colleagues who seemed uninformed.
Suggestions for Change. Students offered suggestions for improvement, with a strong theme to develop more diverse representation (16.1%), including more representation in faculty, students, case examples, and class discussions. Some comments were specifically about needed attention to Black experiences; one concerned teaching about resiliencies and strengths in the face of oppression. Almost 15% suggested making changes to courses or curriculum. One White student wrote: “If it were me running the program (lol) I would . . . remove the culture class and have all those topics embedded into the fabric of each class because culture and diversity are in all those topics.” A few suggested that faculty require social justice assignments (8.1%), adding that many students will not act unless required. A few also suggested that the program provide more education of White students (8.1%).
Quantitative Findings
Quantitative analyses were conducted to provide triangulation for the qualitative findings and a different view of the data, including possible differences between BIPOC and White students and beginning and advanced students. Table 1 includes descriptive statistics providing an overview of beginning and advanced students’ self-perception of their multicultural and social justice competencies.
Table 1
Descriptive Statistics of Competencies
|
|
|
Multicultural |
Social Justice/Advocacy |
|
|
N |
Mean |
SD |
Mean |
SD |
| White |
Beginning |
35 |
2.58 |
.50 |
62.97 |
24.23 |
| Advanced |
27 |
3.09 |
.38 |
76.07 |
19.11 |
| Total |
62 |
2.80 |
.52 |
68.68 |
22.93 |
| BIPOC |
Beginning |
59 |
2.66 |
.56 |
63.05 |
29.30 |
| Advanced |
35 |
3.01 |
.30 |
77.14 |
20.71 |
| Total |
94 |
2.79 |
.51 |
68.30 |
27.19 |
| Total |
Beginning |
94 |
2.63 |
.54 |
63.02 |
27.39 |
| Advanced |
62 |
3.05 |
.34 |
76.68 |
19.87 |
| Total |
156 |
2.80 |
.51 |
68.45 |
25.51 |
To examine if there were discernable differences between the beginning and advanced students’ perceptions of their competencies, and if there were differences between White and BIPOC students, a two-way (2×2) ANOVA was conducted with the overall MCCT as the criterion variable and student levels (beginning, advanced) and race (White, BIPOC) as the two independent variables. Results indicated that although there were no interaction effects between race and student levels, there were significant differences in overall multicultural competencies between beginning and advanced students, F(1, 152) = 30.54, p < .001, indicating that advanced practicum students reported significantly higher overall multicultural competencies than beginning students. There were no statistically significant differences between White and BIPOC students in their overall multicultural competencies. Two (5×2) MANOVAs were conducted with the five factors of multicultural competencies as criterion variables (knowledge, awareness, definition of terms, racial identity, and skills). Student levels (beginning, advanced) and student race (White, BIPOC) were independent variables. Results indicated that there were significant differences between beginning and advanced students in at least one of the multicultural competencies components, Wilks’ Lambda = .72, F(5, 150) = 11.97, p < .001. More specifically, follow-up univariate ANOVAs indicated that advanced students reported significantly higher multicultural competencies in their knowledge, F(1, 154) = 43.74, p < .001, µ2 = .22; awareness, F(1, 154) = 6.20, p = .014, µ2 = .04; and racial identity, F(1, 154) = 43.17, p < .001, µ2 = .21. However, there were no significant differences in definitions of terms or skills. Even though there were no significant differences between White and BIPOC students in their overall multicultural competencies, the results of the 5×2 MANOVA indicated that there were significant differences in at least one of the components, Wilks’ Lambda = .87, F(5, 150) = 4.49, p = .001. Follow-up univariate ANOVAs indicated that White students reported higher multicultural competencies in racial identity than BIPOC students in this study, F(1, 154) = 4.51, p = .035, µ2 = .03. There were no differences in the other areas.
A two-way (2×2) ANOVA was conducted with the overall ACSA as the criterion variable and student levels (beginning, advanced) and race (White, BIPOC) as the two independent variables. Results indicated that while there were no interaction effects between race and student levels, there were significant differences in overall advocacy competencies between beginning and advanced students, F(1, 152) = 10.78, p = .001, indicating that advanced students reported significantly higher overall advocacy competencies (M = 76.68) than beginning students (M = 63.02). There were no statistically significant differences between White and BIPOC students in their overall advocacy competencies.
Discussion
This study was designed to examine students’ experiences of their multicultural and social justice training as an aspect of program evaluation, specifically to assist faculty in improving curriculum and instruction with regard to multicultural and advocacy competencies; the study also offers a unique contribution to existing literature by including a more racially diverse (60% BIPOC) sample. Students reported growth in the core areas of multicultural and social justice competency as outlined by Ratts et al. (2016): awareness, knowledge, skills, and action. Consistent with Field et al.’s (2019) findings, students reported more growth in awareness and knowledge than in social justice action, with some differences as students moved through the program. Although beginning students identified personal biases, the theme of self-awareness was more complex for them later in the program. This suggests that a longer time spent in the program contributed to personal growth; although this seems expected, these outcomes have not necessarily been examined before and confirm that the programs’ increasing effort on multiculturalism and social justice are showing gains. The advanced students wrote about clinical application as well and made overt statements of their commitment to social justice. The quantitative results supported these qualitative findings, with advanced students reporting higher multicultural competencies in knowledge, awareness, and racial identity and higher overall advocacy competencies compared to beginning students. With one exception, there were no significant differences between White and BIPOC students in their self-assessment of multicultural or advocacy competencies. Across racial groups, students expressed humility and desire to learn more.
Although students expressed mixed opinions about their experience of the multicultural and social justice training, a greater number of advanced students reported that they thought multicultural (44%) and social justice issues (30%) were well integrated into the program compared to the number of students with critiques. Students reported that support from faculty and peers facilitated their growth and learning, consistent with previous research (e.g., Beer et al., 2012; Keum & Miller, 2020). Some students noted a sense of belonging, particularly those in the Latinx emphasis.
Similar to other researchers, we found that many students wanted social justice issues to be integrated across the curriculum rather than into one course (Beer et al., 2012; Collins et al., 2015); they also wanted more focus on skills and action (Collins et al., 2015; Kozan & Blustein, 2018). Students’ scores on the ACSA advocacy competencies scale reflect this gap in training as well. Though fewer students offered critiques of their training, these responses are important to amplify because some of these concerns are rarely solicited or acknowledged. For example, BIPOC students echoed the challenges faced by students in Seward’s (2019) study, including lack of representation in their faculty, classmates, and curriculum as well as feelings of marginalization when microaggressions in the classroom went unchecked and when instruction centered the needs of White students. Additionally, a few advanced students from 2020, during a time of significant racial-sociopolitical uprising in the United States, expressed concern that class discussions potentially caused harm to students from marginalized communities. Though more students expressed a desire for greater in-depth training, a small minority of mostly White students indicated that they did not want more social justice training and would rather focus solely on traditional counseling skills. These different student perspectives point to the challenges of teaching social justice amidst diverse political and ideological backgrounds and the need to increase community and collaboration.
Listening to Student Feedback and Implications for Decolonizing Program Curriculum
This study’s findings support the benefits of listening to students’ voices related to multicultural and social justice to inform counselor educators on program strengths and areas for growth. Although student feedback was not the sole impetus for making program changes, accessing this more detailed response was helpful in refining our purpose and direction, as well as highlighting weaknesses. Perhaps more important was the faculty’s willingness to engage in this self-reflective process and to take necessary actions. Rather than waiting for exit interview feedback from graduating students, counselor educators can conduct ongoing program evaluations through anonymous online surveys as well as town hall meetings that invite students to share their process of learning, perceptions of the cultural climate, and experiences of microaggressions. We have a growing understanding that during such evaluations great care needs to be taken for building safety, so as not to retraumatize students from marginalized communities. Based on the results and a series of Zoom town hall meetings, we have implemented changes, such as more consistent integration of social justice across the curriculum; training and day-long retreats focused on increasing faculty competence; faculty participation in Academics for Black Survival and Wellness, an intensive training led by Dr. Della Mosely and Pearis Bellamy; accountability support groups in social justice work; and decolonizing syllabi and class content (e.g., including BIPOC voices and non–APA-style writing assignments). Faculty have also made significant modifications to course materials. For example, beginning students complete weekly modules that include readings and exercises from The Racial Healing Handbook (Singh, 2019), and students study Liberation Psychology during the first week of theories class so they can consider ways to decolonize more traditional models throughout the semester. These strategies have been helpful in preparing students for more difficult conversations surrounding anti-racism in more advanced courses throughout the program. Forming faculty accountability partners or small groups is helpful so that faculty can support each other as a part of their ongoing development in addressing internalized White supremacy and avoiding harm to students.
Student feedback also called attention to the need for self-care, which our program continues to explore. Consistent with previous research (Collins et al., 2015; L. A. Goodman et al., 2018; Hoover & Morrow, 2016; Singh et al., 2010), students reported that their multicultural and social justice learning was often accompanied by moments of overwhelm, hopelessness, and despair. Without tools to manage these emotions, some students may retreat into defensiveness and withdrawal (Seward, 2019), and some may experience activist burnout (Gorski, 2019). Sustainability is necessary for effective social change efforts (Toporek & Ahluwalia, 2021). Counseling programs can offer resources and guidance for students to practice self-care with counselor educators modeling self-care behavior. For example, the Psychology of Radical Healing Collective (Chen et al., 2019) offered strategies to practice radical self-care, including making space for one’s own healing, finding joy and a sense of belonging, and engaging in advocacy at the local community level. Mindfulness practices can be integrated into social justice education to help students and counselor educators manage difficult emotions, increase their ability to be present, and strengthen compassion and curiosity (Berila, 2016). In addition to individual self-care practices, counselor educators can advocate for community care by tending to the community’s needs and drawing on collective experience and wisdom (Gorski, 2019).
The findings point to the need for counselor educators to better address Whiteness and White supremacy, as well as to center the experiences of students from marginalized communities. Counselor educators may be able to mobilize and direct White students’ feelings of guilt into racial consciousness and action by helping them explore Whiteness, White privilege, and what it means to them while allowing and confronting feelings that arise (Grzanka et al., 2019). It may be helpful for educators to read and assign books on White fragility and ways to address it (DiAngelo, 2018; Helms, 2020; Saad, 2020), so that they can assist White students in managing these emotions. It is important that educators explicitly name and recognize White supremacy as it shows up in counseling theory and practice, and to include a shift from the primary focus on the individual to understanding and dismantling oppressive systems. Counselor educators must also attend to the ways in which they center the comfort of White students over the needs of BIPOC students, so that they do not perpetuate harm and trauma (Galán et al., 2021). Although students with privileged identities may learn powerful lessons about oppression from their classmates, it is important that such learning does not occur at the expense of students with marginalized identities. Offering spaces for White students, especially those who are new to conversations about race and racism, to process their feelings may be helpful to avoid harm to BIPOC students who have experienced racial trauma. Similarly, BIPOC students may benefit from spaces in which they can talk freely and support each other as they unpack their own experiences of microaggressions and trauma (Galán et al., 2021).
Based on the finding that support from faculty was important in facilitating student growth and learning, counselor educators may benefit from implementing strategies informed by relational pedagogy and relational–cultural theory (Dorn-Medeiros et al., 2020). Relational pedagogy centers the relationship between teachers and students and posits that all learning takes place in relationships. Relational–cultural theory emphasizes mutual empathy and empowerment and is rooted in feminist multicultural principles. Practices grounded in these approaches include professors’ use of self-disclosure to model openness, vulnerability, and self-reflection; and their work to reduce power imbalances and invite student feedback at multiple points in time through anonymous surveys and one-on-one meetings. Counselor educators can uplift students as the experts of their experience (Sharma & Hipolito-Delgado, 2021).
Limitations and Future Research
The results of this study must be considered in light of a number of limitations. The use of the online survey meant that we were not able to follow up with students for further discussion or clarification of their responses. Adding focus groups or interviews to this methodology would likely provide a more thorough picture. In spite of assurances to the contrary, some students may have been hesitant to be honest out of concern that their own professors would be reading their feedback. It is possible that different themes would have emerged if all students had participated. In addition, 12% of the advanced students had participated as beginning students and therefore were previously exposed to the survey materials. Although this could have impacted their later responses, we suspect that given the nearly 2-year time lapse this may not have been meaningful. Nevertheless, future research and program evaluation would be strengthened with longitudinal analyses. Lastly, the reliability for the ACSA was relatively low, so conclusions are tentative; however, the results support the qualitative data. Despite these limitations, this study offers a model for assessing students’ learning and experiences with the goal of program improvement. The process of counselor educators humbling themselves and inviting and integrating student feedback is an important step in decolonizing counselor education and better serving students and the clients and communities that they will serve.
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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Sapna B. Chopra, PhD, is an associate professor at California State University, Fullerton. Rebekah Smart, PhD, is a professor at California State University, Fullerton. Yuying Tsong, PhD, is a professor and Associate Vice President for Student Academic Support at California State University, Fullerton. Olga L. Mejía, PhD, is a licensed psychologist and an associate professor at California State University, Fullerton. Eric W. Price, PhD, is an associate professor at California State University, Fullerton. Correspondence may be addressed to Sapna B. Chopra, Department of Human Services, California State University, Fullerton, P.O. Box 6868, Fullerton, CA 92834-6868, sapnachopra@fullerton.edu.
Sep 13, 2024 | Volume 14 - Issue 2
Eric M. Brown, Melanie Burgess, Kristy L. Carlisle, Desmond Franklin Davenport, Michelle W. Brasfield
School counselors work closely with students and are often the first point of contact regarding traumatic experiences. It is generally understood that exposure to other individuals’ trauma may lead to a reduction in compassion satisfaction and an increase in secondary traumatic stress, while long-term exposure may result in professional burnout. This study examined the role of school counselors’ (N = 240) own adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) as related to compassion satisfaction, secondary traumatic stress, and burnout. Results indicated that 50% of the professional school counselors in this convenience sample had personal histories of four or more ACEs, which is significantly higher than the general public and passes the threshold for significant risk. Results indicated that the ACEs of school counselors in the present study, as well as some demographic variables, significantly correlated with rates of compassion satisfaction, secondary traumatic stress, and burnout.
Keywords: school counselors, compassion satisfaction, secondary traumatic stress, burnout, adverse childhood experiences
As counselors in PK–12 settings, professional school counselors (PSCs) are uniquely positioned to deliver comprehensive school counseling programs that attend to all students’ academic and social/emotional needs (American School Counselor Association [ASCA], 2019). Providing these comprehensive services may lead to burnout and secondary traumatic stress, which can adversely impact PSCs’ ability to meet students’ academic and social/emotional needs (Mullen & Gutierrez, 2016). Although research has examined various factors that may contribute to burnout such as caseload, lack of administrative support, and tasks unrelated to school counseling (Bardhoshi et al., 2014; Fye, Bergen, & Baltrinic, 2020; Fye, Cook, et al., 2020), few studies have examined whether personal historical factors such as childhood adversity may be related to burnout and secondary traumatic stress. Though self-care is often encouraged in counselor education programs and promoted among practitioners (American Counseling Association [ACA], 2014; Council for the Accreditation of Counseling and Related Educational Programs [CACREP], 2015), we lack knowledge of which PSCs may be more vulnerable to burnout or secondary traumatic stress (Coaston, 2017). Therefore, it is important that we better understand whether a PSC’s own historical experiences of adversity or trauma may make them more susceptible to burnout and secondary traumatic stress, as this may impact their ability to meet students’ needs.
Adverse Childhood Experiences
Adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) encompass 10 maladaptive childhood experiences, including physical abuse, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, substance abuse, physical neglect, emotional neglect, divorce, incarcerated family member, household mental illness, and domestic abuse (Crandall et al., 2020; Felitti et al., 1998). Researchers have found that ACEs have the propensity to shape life beyond childhood, often playing a pivotal role in adult development. Several studies have outlined the dangers of multiple ACEs and negative outcomes in adulthood (Crandall et al., 2020; Felitti et al., 1998). Felitti and colleagues’ (1998) seminal study found that ACEs are common, 55.4% of the population having at least one ACE, and 6.2% reporting four or more ACEs. A growing number of subsequent studies have found that ACEs have a dose–response effect, in which a 1-point increase (using a 10-point scale) in one’s ACE score significantly increases the chance of deleterious mental and physical effects in adulthood (Boullier & Blair, 2018; Felitti et al., 1998; Merrick et al., 2017).
Scholars have found that those with four or more ACEs have a 4- to 12-fold increase in deleterious mental and physical outcomes such as depression, anxiety, addiction, and suicide attempts (Crandall et al., 2020; Crandall et al., 2019; Felitti et al., 1998). Researchers have investigated both the dose–response effect and the pervasive nature of ACEs, suggesting that they may be predictive of long-term mental health impacts. Broadly, adults who were exposed to multiple ACEs were more likely to have three or more mental health disorders such as depression, anxiety, substance addiction, suicidality, and PTSD (Atzl et al., 2019; Fellitti et al., 1998). This is especially detrimental for minoritized persons, as two large U.S. samples of over 200,000 adults have shown that Black and Latine persons, sexually minoritized individuals, and those coming from lower socioeconomic status (SES) had significantly higher levels of ACEs than White persons, heterosexual individuals, and those coming from middle- to upper-class SES backgrounds (Giano et al., 2020; Merrick et al., 2017). Giano et al. (2020) also found that women had significantly higher rates of ACEs as compared to men. Given that childhood experiences may be a critical determinant of mental health in adulthood, individuals with marginalized identities may be at greater risk for negative long-term mental health outcomes (Giano et al., 2020).
ACEs can also impact job function and satisfaction, financial stability, and increased absences (Anda et al., 2004). Of all the helping professions, researchers note that mental health professionals have some of the highest recorded rates of ACEs (Redford, 2016; Thomas, 2016); however, it is unknown how this relates specifically to the school counseling profession. PSCs serve students in a variety of ways to help students fulfill their academic and social/emotional needs (ASCA, 2019). This ability to provide services may be impacted by professional functioning. The ASCA Ethical Standards for School Counselors require PSCs to monitor their emotional and physical health while maintaining wellness to ensure effectiveness (ASCA, 2022). However, researchers note that many counselors do not routinely prioritize their own wellness (Coaston, 2017). Therefore, it is important to understand the effect ACEs have on PSCs to ensure that PSCs can meet student needs.
Burnout
Burnout can occur when a PSC feels depleted of their capacity to perform at a high level due to feelings of incompetence, fatigue, or extreme pressures from their work environment (Mullen & Gutierrez, 2016). Due to high student-to-counselor ratios, diminished counselor self-efficacy, job dissatisfaction, and non-counseling duties, PSCs run the risk of experiencing counselor burnout (Holman et al., 2019; Mullen et al., 2017; Rumsey et al., 2020). Bardhoshi et al. (2014) reported organizational factors such as lack of administrator support, the incapability to meet designated annual goals, and non-counseling duties were associated with burnout, whereas Fye, Bergen, and Baltrinic (2020) found that PSCs with fewer years of counseling experience are more prone to burnout.
Identity factors such as gender, race, and SES have been examined in relation to burnout (Fye et al., 2022); however, these factors have not been evaluated within the context of PSCs’ own personal historical experiences, such as their ACEs. Fye et al. (2022) examined demographic and organizational factors on a multidimensional model of wellness, revealing that there were no large systemic differences in wellness due to gender and race/ethnicity; however, individual elements of the wellness model were significant. One study has shown that male BIPOC counseling students report higher levels of exhaustion compared to female BIPOC counseling students (Basma et al., 2021).
Secondary Traumatic Stress
As students continue to experience traumatic events happening in and outside of school, PSCs are often immersed in the traumatic experiences of their students. This consistent exposure could have an impact on school counselors professionally. Indirect exposure to trauma stemming from students’ trauma, witnessing others’ trauma, or being exposed to graphic material is considered secondary exposure (Fye, Cook, et al., 2020; Padmanabhanunni, 2020). When PSCs attend to student trauma and become fixated, overwhelmed, or burdened, they can experience burnout and secondary traumatic stress (Rumsey et al., 2020). Yet, similar to Fye, Cook, et al.’s (2020) study on burnout, Rumsey et al. (2020) found that years of school counseling experience is negatively correlated with secondary exposure and secondary traumatic stress. School counselors with more years of experience are less likely to be affected by secondary traumatic stress (Rumsey et al., 2020). As PSCs are often the first point of contact regarding PK–12 students’ mental health in the aftermath of a traumatic event, additional research is needed regarding PSCs’ experiences of secondary traumatic stress. Presently, there is a gap in the literature regarding how demographic factors and PSCs’ own ACEs scores predict positive and negative job-related outcomes; therefore, it would be advantageous to learn how ACEs and demographic factors, such as gender, race, or SES, might influence compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress.
Compassion Satisfaction
Since the original ACEs study, researchers have turned toward identifying protective factors that may mitigate the effects of harmful childhood experiences. Firstly, compassion satisfaction, while studied limitedly, may serve as a protective factor against burnout and secondary traumatic stress (Stamm, 2010). Compassion satisfaction is defined as a psychological benefit derived from working effectively with clients/students to produce meaningful and positive change in their lives (Stamm, 2010). Researchers note the dearth of literature surrounding gender, race/ethnicity, and PSC wellness, as well as systemic gender and race/ethnicity-related barriers to wellness that exist for PSCs (Bryant & Constantine, 2006; Fye et al., 2022). Currently, the relationship between burnout, secondary traumatic stress, and compassion satisfaction in PSCs with ACEs is unclear.
Brown et al. (2022) conducted a study on ACEs, positive childhood experiences (PCEs), and compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress with a diverse national sample of 140 clinical mental health counselors (CMHCs). They found that 43% of participants had four or more ACEs and over 70% had five or more PCEs (Brown et al., 2022). Results from this study found that higher ACEs scores predicted lower compassion satisfaction, but racially minoritized CMHCs, those coming from lower childhood SES, and female CMHCs had higher rates of compassion satisfaction as compared to CMHCs who identified as White, coming from middle- or upper-class SES backgrounds, or male. Furthermore, higher ACEs scores predicted higher rates of burnout, and higher PCEs predicted less burnout (Brown et al., 2022). The relationship between PSCs’ own identity factors (e.g., gender, race/ethnicity, and childhood SES) and childhood experiences on job-related outcomes (e.g., compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress) remains unstudied.
The purpose of this study was to examine the effects of early childhood experiences on the professional quality of life of PSCs. We focused on the rates of ACEs and demographic variables of PSCs and their relationship to burnout, secondary traumatic stress, and compassion satisfaction. We aimed to answer the following research questions (RQs): 1) What are the mean rates of ACEs, compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress among PSCs? 2) To what extent do PSCs’ ACEs and demographic variables predict compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress? and 3) After separating the participants into two groups (PSCs with three or fewer ACEs and those with four or more ACEs), to what extent do PSCs’ ACEs and demographic variables predict compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress?
Method
Using a cross-sectional, non-experimental correlational design, we reported descriptive statistics (means; RQ 1) and multiple regression models (predictive relationships; RQs 2 and 3). Using G*Power 3.1.9.6, we calculated an a priori power analysis with a .05 alpha level (Cohen, 1988; 1992), a medium effect size for multiple R2 of .09 (Cohen, 1988), and a power of .80 (Cohen, 1992). This power analysis revealed a target number of participants (N = 138).
Participants
An invitation letter and informed consent document through Qualtrics outlined criteria for school counselors to participate in the study: age 18 and up who work 30 hours or more a week in the field of school counseling. Authors Eric M. Brown, Melanie Burgess, and Kristy L. Carlisle sent Qualtrics invitations to the study through social media, such as X (formerly Twitter), Facebook, and Instagram. We recruited 240 school counselors who met criteria. We could not calculate a response rate because it was impossible to track responses through social media. The majority (62.9%; n = 151) of participants identified as White. The mean age of the participants in the sample was 35 with a range of 23 to 55. Gender was split almost evenly with 50.8% (n = 122) male and 48.3% (n = 116) female. More than half (60%; n = 144) reported a childhood SES of lower or working class, while only 2.9% (n = 7) reported current lower class, and the majority (56.7%; n = 136) reported current middle class. More demographic information is included in Table 1.
Table 1
Participant Demographics
| Characteristic |
% (n) |
| Sex |
|
| Male |
50.8 (122) |
| Female |
48.3 (22) |
| Transgender or Other Gender |
0.8 (2) |
| Race/Ethnicitya |
|
| African American or Black |
7.9 (19) |
| American Indian/Native American |
2.1 (3) |
| Arab American/Middle Eastern |
1.7 (4) |
| Asian/Asian American |
1.7 (4) |
| Asian Indian |
3.3 (8) |
| Hispanic/Latinx |
23.3 (56) |
| Pacific Islander |
0.4 (1) |
| White |
62.9 (151) |
| Childhood Socioeconomic Status |
|
| Lower or Working Class |
60.0 (144) |
| Middle Class |
33.8 (81) |
| Upper Middle/Upper Class |
5.0 (12) |
Note. N = 240.
a For statistical purposes in SPSS, we grouped PSCs as Minoritized and White.
Instrumentation
In addition to a demographic questionnaire, we used instruments with strong psychometrics to measure ACEs, compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress.
Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) Questionnaire
Felitti et al. (1998) developed the ACEs Questionnaire to identify instances of abuse and neglect in childhood. The 10-item questionnaire has good test–retest reliability (Dube et al., 2004) and Cronbach’s alpha coefficient of .78 in one study (Ford et al., 2014) and .90 (Mei et al., 2022) in another. Its structural validity passed invariance tests across demographics, exceeding all thresholds (CFI = .986, TLI = .985, RMSEA = .021, SRMR = .066; Mei et al., 2022). Participants self-report instances of ACEs from 0 to 10, with higher scores indicating higher risk for mental and physical ailments and prohibited quality of life. Serious risk is indicated by a score of 4 or higher (Dube et al., 2004).
Professional Quality of Life Scale (ProQOL)
Stamm (2010) created a 30-item questionnaire measuring compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress and reported Cronbach’s alpha scores of .88 for compassion satisfaction, .75 for burnout, and .81 for secondary traumatic stress. Heritage et al. (2018) found good item fit and invariance across demographics in demonstration of construct validity. The ProQOL subscales are described as being low (22 or less), moderate (23–41), or high (42 or higher). Positive feelings about helping ability (compassion satisfaction) are measured with scores of 22 or lower indicating problems. Exhaustion, frustration, and depression (burnout) are measured with scores 42 and higher showing impairment at work. Fear and trauma from work (secondary traumatic stress) are measured with scores 42 and higher indicating fear resulting from work.
As a widely used instrument, recent researchers have offered several critiques, including a four-factor structure with burnout as two latent subscales, traditional burnout and emotional well-being (Sprang & Craig, 2015), or interpreting compassion fatigue and compassion satisfaction to be on opposite ends of one spectrum (Geoffrion et al., 2019). Fleckman et al. (2022) used the ProQOL in their sample of PK–12 teachers and did not achieve a sufficient model fit; therefore, they posited that the ProQOL may be more appropriate for human service and mental health professionals compared to educators. Because PSCs are mental health professionals working in education settings, we used the instrument as it was originally designed with the three separate constructs of compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress.
Procedure
Our Institutional Review Board approved the current study. Purposeful sample methods included use of a purchased data set of 6,000 counselors’ emails as well as postings on Facebook groups for PSCs. All potential participants received an informed consent document and a Qualtrics link to the three instruments and demographic questionnaire. After data cleaning (i.e., removal of cases with incomplete responses on the instruments) produced 240 usable cases, we computed scores from the instruments and checked assumptions for multiple regression using SPSS 28. Reliability for each instrument showed Cronbach’s alpha score of .86 and an omega score of .87 for the ACEs Questionnaire and .81 Cronbach’s alpha and .82 omega scores for the ProQOL.
Data Analysis and Results
RQ 1 asked for mean scores of ACEs, compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress. We calculated a mean ACEs score of 3.68, 95% CI [3.2854, 4.0330] for PSCs, lower than the threshold of 4 and thus just below the range for significant risk. However, 50.42% of participants
(N = 121) reported an ACEs score of 4 or more. Minoritized PSCs had a particularly higher ACEs score (4.9) than White PSCs (2.96). Females had a higher ACEs score (4.14) than males (3.23). Finally, participants with lower childhood SES (low or working) had slightly lower ACEs scores (3.41) than those with higher SES (middle and upper; 3.82 and 5.04). Then we investigated mean scores of PSCs’ compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress. For compassion satisfaction, they scored 30.93, 95% CI [30.1798, 31.6785]. When we explored burnout, they scored 27.58, 95% CI [26.2399, 28.2184]. Finally, they showed a mean secondary traumatic stress score of 31.49, 95% CI [30.6610, 32.3223]. PSCs on average have moderate levels of compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress.
RQ 2 asked about predictive relationships of ACEs, gender, race/ethnicity, and SES on compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress. Three linear regression models, one for each subscale, all produced significant results. Model 1 ran a regression of compassion satisfaction on ACEs, gender, race/ethnicity, and childhood SES, explaining 27.7% of the variance in compassion satisfaction, F(5, 225) = 17.214, p < .001. Gender (β = -0.331), race/ethnicity (β = -0.125), and childhood SES (β = 0.180) significantly predicted compassion satisfaction. ACEs showed nonsignificant results in this model. Being female, being racially minoritized, and having higher childhood SES predicted higher compassion satisfaction (see Table 2).
Table 2
Regression Results: Coefficients (compassion satisfaction, burnout, secondary traumatic stress)
|
β |
Std. Error |
Beta |
T |
Sig |
| Compassion Satisfaction (Constant) |
|
26.298 |
1.682 |
— |
15.631 |
< .001 |
| ACE |
|
0.010 |
0.121 |
.006 |
0.086 |
= .931 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Gendera |
|
-3.859 |
0.704 |
-.331* |
-5.483 |
< .001* |
| Raceb |
|
-1.514 |
0.746 |
-.125* |
-2.029 |
= .044* |
| Childhood SESc
R2 = .277 (p < .001) |
|
2.149 |
0.711 |
.180* |
-3.021 |
= .003*
|
|
Burnout (Constant) |
|
27.052 |
1.583 |
— |
17.089 |
< .001 |
| ACE |
|
0.176 |
0.114 |
.107 |
1.544 |
= .124 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Gendera |
|
1.714 |
0.662 |
.169* |
2.588 |
= .010* |
| Raceb |
|
2.940 |
0.702 |
.279* |
4.189 |
< .001* |
Childhood SESc
R2 = .152 (p < .001) |
|
-0.175
|
0.669 |
-.017 |
-0.261 |
= .795
|
|
Secondary Traumatic Stress (Constant) |
|
28.695 |
2.139 |
— |
13.413 |
< .001 |
| ACE |
|
0.166 |
0.154 |
.079 |
1.081 |
= .281 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Gendera |
|
-2.068 |
0.895 |
-.159* |
-2.311 |
= .022* |
| Raceb |
|
0.502 |
0.948 |
.037 |
0.530 |
= .597 |
| Childhood SESc |
|
2.171 |
0.904 |
.163* |
2.401 |
= .017* |
| R2 = .059 (p = .017) |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Note. ACE = Adverse Childhood Experiences; SES = socioeconomic status.
aFor statistical purposes in SPSS, we grouped gender as female, male, and transgender or other gender.
ᵇFor race, we grouped PSCs as Minoritized and White.
cFor Childhood SES, we grouped PSCs as lower or working class, middle-class, or upper middle/upper class.
Model 2 ran a regression of burnout on ACEs, gender, race/ethnicity, and childhood SES, explaining 15.2% of the variance in compassion satisfaction, F(5, 225) = 8.062, p < .001. Gender (β = 0.169) and race/ethnicity (β = 0.279) significantly predicted burnout. ACEs and childhood SES showed nonsignificant results in this model. Being male and being White predicted higher burnout (see Table 2).
Model 3 ran a regression of secondary traumatic stress on ACEs, gender, race/ethnicity, and childhood SES, explaining 5.9% of the variance in secondary traumatic stress, F(5, 225) = 2.862, p = .017. Only gender (β = -0.159) and childhood SES (β = 0.163) significantly predicted secondary traumatic stress. ACEs and race/ethnicity showed nonsignificant results in this model. Being female and having higher childhood SES predicted higher secondary traumatic stress (see Table 2).
RQ 3 asked about the predictive relationship of ACEs, gender, race/ethnicity, and SES to compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress after dividing the sample into two groups: PSCs with three or fewer ACEs (n = 119) and those with four or more ACEs (n = 121). Three linear regression models for each group all produced significant results. Model 1 ran a regression of compassion satisfaction on ACEs, gender, race/ethnicity, and childhood SES. For Group 1 (three or fewer ACEs) the model explained 41.7% of the variance in compassion satisfaction, F(5, 109) 15.599, p < .001. Gender (β = -0.369), and childhood SES (β = 0.194) significantly predicted compassion satisfaction. ACEs and race/ethnicity showed nonsignificant results. Being female and having higher childhood SES predicted higher compassion satisfaction for those with three or fewer ACEs. For Group 2 (four or more ACEs), the model explained 26.6% of the variance in compassion satisfaction, F(5, 110) = 7.975, p < .001. Gender (β = -0.277) and race/ethnicity (β = -0.342) significantly predicted compassion satisfaction. ACEs and childhood SES showed nonsignificant results. Being female and being a racially minoritized person predicted higher compassion satisfaction for those with four or more ACEs (see Table 3).
Table 3
Regression Results: Coefficients (compassion satisfaction)
|
β |
Std. Error |
Beta |
T |
Sig |
| ACE < 4 (Constant) |
20.214 |
2.846 |
— |
7.102 |
< .001 |
| ACE |
-0.070 |
0.545 |
.006 |
-0.012 |
= .897 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Gendera |
-5.046 |
1.040 |
-.369* |
-4.852 |
< .001* |
| Raceb |
0.820 |
1.165 |
.194 |
2.307 |
= .524 |
| Childhood SESc
R2 = .417 (p < .001) |
2.688 |
1.165 |
.194* |
2.307 |
= .023*
|
|
ACE > 4 (Constant) |
29.897 |
1.990 |
— |
15.024 |
< .001 |
| ACE |
0.286 |
0.228 |
.106 |
1.253 |
= .213 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Gendera |
-2.702 |
0.855 |
-.277* |
-3.161 |
= .002* |
| Raceb |
-3.296 |
0.821 |
-.342* |
-4.017 |
< .001* |
| Childhood SESc
R2 = .266 (p < .001) |
0.443 |
0.866 |
.045 |
0.511 |
= .610
|
Note. ACE = Adverse Childhood Experiences; SES = socioeconomic status.
aFor statistical purposes in SPSS, we grouped gender as female, male, and transgender or other gender.
ᵇFor race, we grouped PSCs as Minoritized and White.
cFor Childhood SES, we grouped PSCs as lower or working class, middle-class, or upper middle/upper class.
Model 2 ran a regression of burnout on ACEs gender, race/ethnicity, and childhood SES. For Group 1 (three or fewer ACEs), the model explained 14.5% of the variance in burnout, F(5, 109) = 3.692, p = .004. ACEs (β = 0.249) significantly predicted burnout. Gender, race/ethnicity, and childhood SES showed nonsignificant results. Having higher ACEs predicted higher burnout. For Group 2 (four or more ACEs), the model explained 35.9% of the variance in burnout, F(5, 110) = 12.336, p < .001. ACEs (β = 0.158), gender (β = 0.277), and race/ethnicity (β = 0.461) significantly predicted burnout. Childhood SES showed nonsignificant results. Having higher ACEs, being male, and being White predicted higher burnout (see Table 4).
Table 4
Regression Results: Coefficients (burnout)
|
β |
Std. Error |
Beta |
T |
Sig |
| ACE < 4 (Constant) |
31.882 |
2.448 |
— |
13.025 |
< .001 |
| ACE |
1.061 |
0.469 |
.249* |
2.264 |
= .026* |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Gendera |
0.197 |
0.895 |
.020 |
0.220 |
= .827 |
| Raceb |
-0.806 |
1.104 |
-.067 |
-0.730 |
= .467 |
| Childhood SESc
R2 = .145 (p = .004) |
-1.543 |
1.002 |
-.157 |
-1.539 |
= .127
|
|
ACE > 4 (Constant) |
20.916 |
2.085 |
— |
10.103 |
< .001 |
| ACE |
0.471 |
0.237 |
.158* |
1.989 |
= .049* |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Gendera |
2.999 |
0.887 |
.277* |
3.382 |
= .001* |
| Raceb |
4.939 |
0.852 |
.461* |
5.601 |
< .001* |
| Childhood SESc
R2 = .359 (p < .001) |
0.877 |
0.899 |
.081 |
0.975 |
= .332
|
Note. ACE = Adverse Childhood Experiences; SES = socioeconomic status.
aFor statistical purposes in SPSS, we grouped gender as female, male, and transgender or other gender.
ᵇFor race, we grouped PSCs as Minoritized and White.
cFor Childhood SES, we grouped PSCs as lower or working class, middle-class, or upper middle/upper class.
Model 3 ran a regression of secondary traumatic stress on ACEs, gender, race/ethnicity, and childhood SES. For Group 1 (three or fewer ACEs), the model explained 16.4% of the variance in secondary traumatic stress, F(5, 109) = 4.267, p = .001. Gender (β = -0.303) significantly predicted secondary traumatic stress. ACEs, race/ethnicity, and childhood SES showed nonsignificant results. Being female predicted higher secondary traumatic stress. For Group 2 (four or more ACEs), the model explained 14.5% of the variance in secondary traumatic stress, F(5.110) = 3.745, p = .004. ACEs (β = 0.288) significantly predicted secondary traumatic stress. Gender, race/ethnicity, and childhood SES showed nonsignificant results. Having higher ACEs predicted higher secondary traumatic stress (see Table 5).
Table 5
Regression Results: Coefficients (secondary traumatic stress)
|
β |
Std. Error |
Beta |
T |
Sig |
| ACE < 4 (Constant) |
26.661 |
3.813 |
— |
6.992 |
< .001 |
| ACE |
0.678 |
0.730 |
.101 |
0.929 |
= .355 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Gendera |
-4.640 |
1.394 |
-.303* |
-3.330 |
= .001* |
| Raceb |
-1.187 |
1.719 |
-.062 |
-0.691 |
= .491 |
| Childhood SESc
R2 = .164 (p = .001) |
1.068 |
1.561 |
.069 |
0.684 |
= .495
|
|
ACE > 4 (Constant) |
26.189 |
2.378 |
— |
11.015 |
< .001 |
| ACE |
0.858 |
0.273 |
.288* |
3.146 |
= .002* |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Gendera |
0.268 |
1.021 |
.025 |
0.252 |
= .794 |
| Raceb |
0.916 |
0.980 |
.086 |
0.934 |
= .352 |
| Childhood SESc
R2 = .145 (p = .004) |
1.765 |
1.035 |
.163 |
1.705 |
= .091
|
Note. ACE = Adverse Childhood Experiences; SES = socioeconomic status.
aFor statistical purposes in SPSS, we grouped gender as female, male, and transgender or other gender.
ᵇFor race, we grouped PSCs as Minoritized and White.
cFor Childhood SES, we grouped PSCs as lower or working class, middle-class, or upper middle/upper class.
Discussion
The purpose of this study was to establish the average rates of ACEs, compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress in PSCs as well as determine the extent to which PSCs’ own ACEs might predict compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress in a U.S. sample of school counselors. This study is unique in that it is the first to explore PSCs’ personal historical predictors and their relationship with job-related variables, both establishing the present rates of ACEs while also examining their potential to be risk factors for PSCs. As professional organizations (ASCA, 2022) and previous literature (Padmanabhanunni, 2020) noted the importance of having PSCs monitor their own wellness to ensure that their own trauma does not influence their work, this study provides a deeper understanding of how personal adversity may influence professional responsibilities.
Minoritized PSCs in our convenience sample had significantly more ACEs than White PSCs, which is congruent with previous studies (Giano et al., 2020; Merrick et al., 2017). While Brown et al. (2022) established racial differences in ACEs for CMHCs for its sample, noting that racially minoritized CMHCs had higher ACEs scores than White CMHCs, in this study we established gender differences, in which female PSCs had higher rates of ACEs compared to male PSCs in the present study’s sample. This extends previous literature, which reported ACEs scores in aggregate for pediatric and adult populations (Boullier & Blair, 2018; Merrick et al., 2017). The most striking finding in our study was that 50.42% of PSCs in our convenience sample had four or more ACEs, which was slightly higher than the 43% that Brown et al. (2022) found in CMHCs, and significantly higher than the approximately 6% found in large U.S. and Austrian samples (Felitti et al., 1998; Riedl et al., 2020), suggesting PSCs may have a personal history that includes more ACEs than the general population. This is consistent with previous studies that have shown that those within mental health fields may tend to have higher rates of childhood adversity and trauma (Brown et al., 2022; McKim & Smith-Adcock, 2014; Thomas, 2016). Yet, despite having higher rates of ACEs, participants in our sample reported moderate levels of compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress on average, which is supported by previous research and theory related to these constructs, as PSCs’ stress and job satisfaction are mediated by burnout (Mullen et al., 2017).
Our examination of the compassion satisfaction of PSCs showed that as a whole, those who identified as female, racially minoritized persons, and those who came from higher childhood SES were more likely to experience higher compassion satisfaction. For PSCs having three or fewer ACEs, being female and having higher childhood SES predicted higher compassion satisfaction. For PSCs with four or more ACEs, being female and being racially minoritized predicted higher compassion satisfaction. We found these results, which were also congruent with Brown et al.’s (2022) study with CMHCs, to be notable. It may be expected that coming from a higher childhood SES would result in higher compassion satisfaction as higher SES may be a protective factor. Yet, female and racially minoritized PSCs reporting higher rates of compassion satisfaction despite having higher ACEs scores on average is worth noting, as this builds upon recent findings that BIPOC PSCs have elevated essential wellness
(i.e., meaning and purpose) compared to White PSCs (Fye et al., 2022).
In terms of who is more likely to suffer from burnout, in the total sample, we found that being male and being White predicted higher levels of burnout compared to PSCs who identified as being female and racially minoritized. Previous literature has shown that years of experience is negatively correlated with burnout (Fye, Cook, et al., 2020); however, our data extends this to other demographic variables. For those with fewer than three ACEs, having higher ACEs predicted higher burnout, suggesting that regardless of the ACEs threshold, as the number of ACEs increases, PSCs are more susceptible to burnout. For those with four or more ACEs, having higher rates of ACEs, being male, and being White predicted higher burnout scores. This lends further support to research showing that male counseling graduate students experience heightened levels of exhaustion compared to their female peers (Basma et al., 2021). Considering the higher rates of ACEs in the female and racially minoritized groups, it is notable that these two groups of PSCs experienced burnout less than male and White counselors.
Implications for School Counselors and Counselor Education
The results of the present study contribute to scholarship regarding PSC wellness, highlighting potential identity-related and personal historical predictors of positive and negative job-related outcomes that can impact PSCs and their work with students. These results are noteworthy for practicing school counselors, as well as counselor education programs dedicated to the continued health and longevity of the school counseling profession. Given that our sample was split in half, with PSCs self-reporting above and below the threshold for ACEs, we acknowledge that this may be reflective of those presently working in the field. This split presents two distinct profiles for PSCs, those who have ACEs scores above the threshold of four or more, and those who had ACEs scores of three or fewer. Regardless of profile, any increase in ACEs score puts a PSC at risk for being more susceptible to burnout. In monitoring their wellness, PSCs can reflect on how these risk factors could subsequently impact their professional functioning. Similarly, counselor educators can build reflective practices into their programs to increase pre-service school counselors’ self-awareness regarding their wellness.
PSCs-in-training need to be made aware of the effects of ACEs, not only due to the effects on students, but also the effects they may have on their own professional well-being. Counselor educators and supervisors may advise PSCs-in-training to seek counseling to process their ACEs prior to entering the field fully after graduation. There are several evidence-based counseling modalities that aid in the processing of trauma and acute stress (e.g., EMDR, cognitive process therapy, STAIR Narrative Therapy). Though childhood adversity is not synonymous with trauma, the high rates of ACEs of counselors as evidenced in this study and that of Brown and colleagues (2022) indicate that trauma-informed education may be necessary. The 2024 CACREP standards (CACREP, 2023) say relatively little regarding requirements to educate about trauma, yet it will be important for counselor educators to equip counselors-in-training with knowledge concerning both how to care for traumatized students and also to care for themselves.
Limitations
This study is limited by the nature of survey research such as self-reporting bias and inability to assess all factors that may be influencing the relationship, specifically external factors that previous studies have explored. It is important to note that this study did not examine organizational factors that previous research has shown to be impactful regarding PSCs’ burnout, such as school counselor caseload, PSCs’ supportive relationships (e.g., supervision, mentorship), and the role of school climate (Holman et al., 2019; Mullen et al., 2017; Rumsey et al., 2020). Research has indicated that years of experience (Rumsey et al., 2020) and organizational variables (e.g., non-counseling duties, role ambiguity, supervisor support; Fye, Bergen, & Baltrinic, 2020; Holman et al., 2019) are mitigating factors in PSCs’ experience of secondary traumatic stress. Qualitative research may provide a richer understanding of the phenomena of these outcomes for school counselors. For example, why do PSCs with higher childhood SES have higher levels of secondary traumatic stress?
Splitting the sample in half (PSCs with three or fewer ACEs and PSCs with four or more) produced two groups (n = 119 and n = 121), which individually did not meet our required power analysis (N = 138). While we believe in the potential of the results to shed light on the issue of PSCs’ compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress, further research may confirm or elaborate upon the findings. Furthermore, because the sample in the current study did not match previous samples’ reporting rate of reported ACEs scores (e.g., Felitti et al., 1998; Riedl et al., 2020), this study may be replicated on a different sample to contribute to trends in ACEs scores among the PSC population.
A significant limitation to our study included our lack of racially minoritized counselors. As a result, we combined racially minoritized counselors and compared them to White counselors, which limited our ability to distinguish between the unique strengths and struggles that may exist within a given racial group. More research needs to be conducted on counselors from various ethnic and cultural groups both within the U.S. and globally. It would be helpful to know what protective factors may exist for school counselors from racially or ethnically marginalized backgrounds around the world. We believe that the results of this study should not draw attention away from numerous studies that have shown that systemic and organizational factors such as school work environment and school counselor caseload have a significant impact on the professional resilience of PSCs (Bardhoshi et al., 2014; Holman et al., 2019; Mullen et al., 2017; Rumsey et al., 2020). The results of this study do not suggest that the problem of burnout is solely or primarily a result of the personal history of PSCs.
Future Research
Exploring more demographic variables, personal variables, and work characteristics may be beneficial in understanding the relationship between these factors and the presence of compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress. In addition to investigating the aforementioned variables, future research may focus on an experimental pre-/post-test design providing a group of school counselors training regarding secondary traumatic stress, burnout, and wellness practices. This may be particularly helpful for those who have experienced four or more ACEs due to the research that childhood trauma is linked to poor health in adulthood (Anda et al., 2002, 2004; Dube et al., 2004; Frewen et al., 2019; Gondek et al., 2021; Merrick et al., 2017; Mwachofi et al., 2020). Future research may also include an examination of PSCs’ rates of ACEs and the types of schools served. For example, scholars may examine whether PSCs with higher ACEs tend to work in schools where the rates of ACEs are higher for children. Furthermore, considering the timing of the current study with data collection occurring prior to the COVID-19 pandemic, assessing the roles of the pandemic, current economic uncertainty, and ongoing racial injustices on these variables would be informative as to how they may be related.
Conclusion
We sought to examine the rates of ACEs of PSCs and learn whether ACEs are correlated with higher rates of compassion satisfaction, burnout, and secondary traumatic stress. We found that an unusually high rate of PSCs in our sample had four or more ACEs and are therefore susceptible to factors such as burnout and secondary traumatic stress. As a result of these findings, we believe that in conjunction with calls for structural change to PSCs’ work environment (e.g., student caseload), greater attention needs to be given to ways that PSCs’ own history may factor into their susceptibility to burnout and secondary traumatic stress.
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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Eric M. Brown, PhD, LPC, is an assistant professor at the Chobanian & Avedisian School of Medicine at Boston University. Melanie Burgess, PhD, is an assistant professor at the University of Memphis. Kristy L. Carlisle, PhD, is an assistant professor at Old Dominion University. Desmond Franklin Davenport, MS, is a doctoral student at the University of Memphis. Michelle W. Brasfield, PhD, is an assistant professor at the University of Memphis. Correspondence may be addressed to Eric M. Brown, Boston University Chobanian & Avedisian School of Medicine, 72 E. Concord St., Boston, MA 02118, ebrown1@bu.edu.
Sep 13, 2024 | Volume 14 - Issue 2
Michael D. Hannon, LaShawn M. Adams, Natalie Nieves, Estefanie Ceballo, David Julius Ford, Jr., Linwood G. Vereen
Drawing from the concepts of Critical Race Theory and the Theory of Nigrescence, we report the results of a grounded theory study to explain why a sample of 28 Black counselors chose their profession. Findings suggest that the contributors to this study were motivated to become counselors because of their inspiration to challenge cultural mandates (i.e., grounding motivator), to disrupt Black underrepresentation (i.e., secondary motivator), and to live out their personal and professional convictions (i.e., secondary motivator). Recommendations for counselor education, counseling practice, and counseling research are included.
Keywords: Black counselors, Black underrepresentation, grounded theory, Theory of Nigrescence, Critical Race Theory
Accredited counseling programs enroll White students and hire White faculty at significantly higher rates than they enroll Black students and hire Black faculty (Council for the Accreditation of Counseling and Related Educational Programs [CACREP], 2022). Black students and faculty in counseling programs have described their program climates as unsupportive and hostile (Bradley & Holcomb-McCoy, 2004; Brooks & Steen, 2010; Haskins et al., 2013). Given the overwhelming representation of White counselors (U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2023), this perception has a bearing on Black participation in the professional counseling workforce. To date, the counseling knowledge base offers little on the factors, motivators, and/or reasons that inspire people to become counselors, regardless of their racial and/or ethnic identities. These motivators, factors, and reasons are important, given the value professional counseling places on understanding individuals’ career development and trajectory.
Exploring constructs associated with the choices that Black counselors make about becoming counselors is uniquely important given the historical exclusion of Black counselors from the profession (National Center for Education Statistics [NCES], 2021; U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2023). Simultaneously, Black clients are seeking mental health support in record numbers and actively indicating that they want treatment from Black counselors (Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration, 2018). The goal of this study was to develop a grounded theory of what motivates Black people to become professional counselors.
Review of the Literature and Theoretical Framework
Developing a theory that explains the reasons why Black people become counselors can benefit the counseling profession in at least three ways. First, it centers the voices, experiences, and insights of Black counselors. Centering them and their experiences is a critical and disruptive act that provides direct and unfiltered insights about factors that have contributed to their engagement and factors that inhibit that engagement, given how their specific experiences and insights are not significantly reflected in counseling research. Second, the results can provide counselors at all levels (e.g., counselor education program faculty and staff, counseling leaders, practicing counselors, and counseling students) an introductory evidence base that can inform more innovative ways to both recruit Black counselors and make counselor preparation programs more inclusive, supportive, and affirming. Third, the findings also provide counselor preparation programs and the agencies and institutions that employ graduates with an introductory evidence base that contributes to increasing the number of Black counselors, which has been documented to encourage more Black and other marginalized people to seek mental health support (Cook et al., 2017; Moreno et al., 2020; Noonan et al., 2016; Primm et al., 2010).
The reasons for the historical exclusion and ongoing underrepresentation of Black counselors are simple. We assert that Black counselors’ exclusion and underrepresentation are a direct consequence of systemic racism. Different forms of systemic racism are evidenced in at least two specific contexts: 1) systemic racism in counseling programs evidenced by limited enrollment of Black counseling students and hiring of Black faculty and 2) systemic racism in counseling journals evidenced by underreported research about career development for Black counselors.
Systemic Racism in Counseling Programs
In its most recent report on counseling program racial demographics, CACREP (2022) noted that approximately 55% of all students in counseling programs were White, while just over 16% were Black. In 2017 CACREP reported approximately 60% of students in counseling programs were White, while less than 20% were Black. So, while there is more representation of other students of color in accredited counseling programs, the number of Black students has decreased. These trends continue in graduate education at institutions across the United States with respect to Black student enrollment. The NCES (2023) reported that Black students comprised 14% of the approximately 3 million students enrolled in U.S. postbaccalaureate programs, as compared to 62% of White students enrolled in 2019. Likewise, the NCES (2021) reported that of the approximately 810,000 full-time faculty at degree-granting institutions in 2018, 75% were White and 6% were Black. The recent Supreme Court ruling striking down race-based affirmative action in college admissions (Students for Fair Admissions, Inc. v. President and Fellows of Harvard College, 2023), along with assessments found to be culturally biased and inconsistent in predicting students’ success (e.g., Graduate Record Examination; Sullivan et al., 2022) have the potential to be barriers to Black student enrollment. These factors have clear implications for the counseling workforce, evidenced by White counselors comprising anywhere between 70% and 76% of the counseling workforce (U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2023). Unfortunately, Black counseling students and faculty have reported counseling program climates to be isolating, hostile, and tokenizing (Bradley & Holcomb-McCoy, 2004; Brooks & Steen, 2010; Haskins et al., 2013).
Career Development Among Black People in Helping Professions
The research on the impact of race and racial identity on career development among Black people is consistent, indicating Black people consider their race in their career choices (Bell, 2018; Byars-Winston, 2010; Byars-Winston & Fouad, 2006; Chung, 2002; Fouad & Byars-Winston, 2005; Hackett & Byers, 1996; Rollins & Valdez, 2006). Unfortunately, very little research explicitly reports on Black people’s motivation to join helping professions, including counseling. June and Pringle (1977) offered a constructive critique of career theorists (i.e., Roe, Super, and Holland) whose research anchors career development theory in many counselor preparation programs, writing that “None of the three writers incorporated the influence of race in any significant manner in their theories” (June & Pringle, 1977, pp. 22–23). June and Pringle’s insights from more than 35 years ago are telling, given the absence of research that attempts to acknowledge the ways race and racism influence career choices among people who are not White. What follows is a review of the research reporting on influencing factors of Black people who choose to enter helping professions such as social work, family and consumer sciences, and nursing, which can potentially offer insights about why some Black people might choose to become professional counselors. Also included is research about how race influences the career counseling process for Black students and new professionals as they seek to identify viable career options.
Creative Nursing published an article in 2008 (Anonymous, 2008) that provided readers with firsthand accounts of why a group of over 20 nurses chose to enter that profession. They overwhelmingly cited being called to the profession, suggesting that their career choice went beyond typical considerations such as financial stability or convenience. Social work researchers have similarly investigated this topic and have reported that Black social workers most frequently chose the profession because they wanted opportunities to work with people (Gockel, 1966) or had the desire to open a private practice (Butler & Butler, 1990). In their study of 120 social workers, Bowie and Hancock (2000) reported that the social workers chose gaining more social work education in order to advance their careers and learning new social work skills as among the most important reasons to enroll in graduate-level social work courses. Similarly, Burdette-Williamson and O’Neal (1998) reported undergraduates who chose family and consumer sciences as a major were most motivated by influential people, including but not limited to college advisors, parents, and/or college friends. These motivating factors to join helping professions align with Branch’s (2018) dissertation that reported on Black men’s reasons for becoming counselors. Branch cited prior experiences with therapy and Black male counseling mentors as reasons why Black men chose their career path leading to counseling.
Other researchers have centered Black people in the context of career development. The cultural formulation approach with Black clients (Byars-Winston, 2010; Byars-Winston & Fouad, 2006; Fouad & Byars-Winston, 2005) focuses on racial differences in variables related to career choice. Fouad and Byars-Winston (2005) reported differences among racial/ethnic groups in perceptions of career opportunities and barriers to those opportunities; they concluded that the career aspirations of Black and other people of color are similar, but their dreams differ by racial groups. Byars-Winston (2010) recommended the cultural formulation approach in career counseling with Black clients as a descriptive guide to inform counselors’ consideration, documentation, and influence of culture in the counseling relationship by integrating four cultural formulation dimensions (i.e., self and cultural identity, self and cultural conceptions of career problems, self in context, and cultural dynamics in counseling relationships) with the three functions of Black cultural identity (i.e., bonding, buffering, and bridging).
Research about career development among Black students in educational settings (pre-K through higher education) and interventions support using the cultural formulation approach. Rollins and Valdez (2006) sampled 85 Black high school students and found that students who experienced a higher degree of racism reported significantly higher career decision-making self-efficacy (i.e., belief in one’s ability to make a good career decision) but not career task self-efficacy (i.e., belief in one’s ability to successfully complete a career-related task). Rollins and Valdez found that higher ethnic identity achievement, parental socioeconomic status, and being female were related to higher levels of career self-efficacy. Similarly, Duffy and Klingamen (2009) reported in a study of 2,300 racially diverse first-year college students a series of statistically significant, positive correlations between higher levels of ethnic identity achievement and career decidedness. Ethnic identity was found to play little, if any, role in the career development progress of White students. However, for Black and Asian American students, after controlling for race, ethnic identity was found to significantly moderate the relationship between ethnic identity achievement and career decidedness. Duffy and Klingamen (2009) urged counselors to be cognizant of the role ethnic identity plays in students’ career development. The literature reminds us that there are unique considerations for the career development of Black people that explicitly focus on racial identities in general. The research also suggests that there is useful information to be gleaned from how Black people in other helping professions make their career choices, but comparatively little exists about Black counselors.
The literature reviewed here elucidates the challenges Black people confront as counseling clients, counseling students, counseling professionals, and counseling faculty. Researchers continue to document the ways that Black clients experience negative outcomes in counseling, as well as their desires to have counselors who share their racial identity. Barriers exist that exclude Black people from graduate programs, thus creating a shortage of counseling professionals. Similarly, Black faculty are also underrepresented in counseling programs. Still, the importance and value of more Black counselors exist, and the goal of this study was to provide a theoretical grounding to explain Black counselors’ motivation to join the profession.
Integrated Theoretical Framework
Our research team drew on Critical Race Theory (CRT) and the Theory of Nigrescence for an integrated theoretical framework. CRT posits that racism and White supremacy is embedded in everyday structures and systems and impacts the lived experiences of people of color (Garcia & Romero, 2022). Delgado and Stefancic (2001) articulated that race is a socially constructed concept and there is no biological superiority of one racial group over another. Secondarily, several groups are vested in maintaining the current racial hierarchy that esteems Whiteness as superior. Finally, racism is ordinary, common, and an intrusive force in and on Black and other people of color (McGee & Stovall, 2015). For these reasons, CRT provides an appropriate lens for investigation.
Cross et al.’s Theory of Nigrescence (1991) posits that a healthy racial identity is the result of a developmental process during the life span. During this process (i.e., pre-encounter, encounter, immersion/emersion, internalization, and internalization/commitment), Black people transition from not understanding how race affects their experiences to experiencing agency in their own understanding of racial identity of self and others. We believe that race is inextricably tied to Black people deciding to become counselors as they are aware of the deleterious effect of racism on their lives. We further contend that Black people who choose to become professional counselors are further along in their racial identity development, per Nigrescence Theory. These two theories provided us with a fitting and culturally relevant framework with which to administer this study. Our focus on the intersections of race and racism, racial identity development, and career development are congruent with the aims of CRT (Delgado & Stefancic, 2001) and Cross and colleagues’ (1991) Theory of Nigrescence.
Methods
Our goal with this study was to develop an introductory evidence base that identifies what motivates Black counselors to join the counseling profession. There has been a limited amount of research on the intersection of Black peoples’ racial identity and their career motivations. There has also been little research that reports on what motivates Black people to become counselors or how their experiences influence their decision to join the profession. Consequently, we chose a grounded theory design for this study because it is used to help answer complex research questions wherein data are collected and extensively analyzed to create a theory (Mills & Gay, 2019; Singh et al., 2010). To generate a grounded theory, we endeavored to collect data and identify patterns therein to learn what motivated a specific sample of Black people to become counselors (Corbin & Strauss, 1990; Creswell & Poth, 2016) by drawing on the causal conditions, the context(s), and the intervening variables that influence the phenomenon being studied (Vollstedt & Rezat, 2019). Our central research question for the study was: What motivates Black people to become professional counselors?
Researchers’ Positionality Statement
Our research team consisted of six members at varying points in our counseling and counselor education careers. We all share a commitment to resisting and disrupting all forms of oppression. Michael D. Hannon is a Black, male, cisgender counselor educator and counselor whose clinical and research interests are Black men’s mental health and confronting anti-Black racism in professional counseling. LaShawn M. Adams is a Black, cisgender woman whose research focuses on Black women in higher education and feminist ideology. Natalie Nieves and Estefanie Ceballo are Latine cisgender women whose research interests focus on Latine culture from a relational–cultural theory perspective. Adams, Nieves, and Ceballo are doctoral candidates. David Julius Ford, Jr. is a Black, male, queer counselor educator and counselor whose research and clinical interests include Black men in higher education; career counseling; queer and trans Black, Indigenous, and people of color (BIPOC); and persons living with HIV/AIDS. Linwood G. Vereen is a Black, male, cisgender counselor educator and counselor whose research and clinical interests include Black people’s mental health, humanistic existentialism, Black existentialism, and humor in counseling. We affirm and celebrate our diverse range of salient and intersectional identities. Our diverse identities also informed the choice of our integrated theoretical framework, given we are all people of color at various points in our racial identity development and who have a shared professional identity.
Contributor Recruitment and Profile
We used two sampling methods, criterion and snowball sampling (Mills & Gay, 2019; Patton, 2014), to recruit potential contributors. Criterion sampling (Patton, 2014) requires that contributors to a study meet a very prominent criteria for eligibility. Mills and Gay (2019) described snowball sampling as the process when researchers invite contributors to recommend additional eligible contributors. All contributors (i.e., participants) were required to meet the following four inclusion criteria: 1) identify as Black (i.e., continental African, Black American, Afro-Caribbean, Afro-Latine, and/or a member of the African Diaspora); 2) be a member of the counseling profession, evidenced by being a counseling student (i.e., enrolled in a counseling master’s, post-master’s, and/or doctoral program), a practicing counselor, and/or being a counselor educator/supervisor; 3) speak and understand American English; and 4) be at least 18 years old. All 28 contributors received $40 gift cards for their participation.
Upon receiving IRB approval, our research team began recruiting by inviting potential contributors with flyers and descriptions via counseling and counselor education email distribution lists and various social media platforms (e.g., X/Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, LinkedIn). Our recruitment efforts yielded over 51 responses from diverse Black counselors, and our final sample included 28 contributors. Twenty-three potential contributors were excluded due to either not fully meeting eligibility criteria and/or interview scheduling conflicts. Each contributor chose their own alias to protect their identity. Basic demographic data about the contributors is listed in Table 1.
Table 1
Contributor Demographics
| Alias |
Age |
Yrs. of Counseling Exp. |
Gender Identity |
Ethnicity |
Professional Role |
| Ada |
28 |
0–5 years |
Cisgender woman |
Black American |
Doctoral student;
practicing counselor |
| Aisha S. |
46 |
15+ years |
Female |
Afro-Caribbean |
Practicing counselor |
| Andrea |
24 |
0–5 years |
Female |
Afro-Caribbean |
Practicing counselor |
| Bianca |
25 |
0–5 years |
Female |
Mixed race
(Black/Hispanic) |
Practicing counselor |
| Capt. Ingenuity |
37 |
0–5 years |
Male |
Black American |
Practicing counselor |
| Carlos |
41 |
11–15 years |
Male |
Black American |
Doctoral student |
| Cheeta |
39 |
0–5 years |
Female |
Black American |
Master’s student |
| Denise |
42 |
15+ years |
Female |
Black American |
Doctoral student;
practicing counselor |
| Destiny |
33 |
11–15 years |
Female |
Black American |
Counselor educator/supervisor; practicing counselor |
| Dorothy |
45 |
6–10 years |
Female |
Mixed race (Black American & White American) |
Practicing counselor |
| Erykah |
28 |
0–5 years |
Female |
Afro-Caribbean |
Doctoral student;
practicing counselor |
| Franchon |
38 |
11–15 years |
Female |
Mixed race (Native and African American) |
Retired/former counselor |
| Grayson |
45 |
0–5 years |
Female |
Black American |
Practicing counselor |
| Jacques |
68 |
15+ years |
Male |
Mixed race (Creole Chamorro) |
Practicing counselor |
| Jalen |
40 |
15+ years |
Male |
Black American |
Practicing counselor |
| Jena Six |
55 |
0–5 years |
Female |
Did not reply |
Practicing counselor |
| Jesika |
41 |
6–10 years |
Female |
Afro-Caribbean |
Master’s student;
school counselor |
| Jo |
63 |
0–5 years |
Female |
Black American |
Practicing counselor |
| Marie J. |
31 |
0–5 years |
Female |
Black American |
Doctoral student |
| Matt |
60 |
15+ years |
Male |
Black American |
Doctoral student |
| Michelle |
26 |
0–5 years |
Female |
Black American |
Master’s student |
| Mildred P. |
51 |
0–5 years |
Female |
Black American |
Master’s student |
| Morris |
22 |
0–5 years |
Female |
Black American |
Master’s student |
| Rene |
29 |
6–10 years |
Female |
Black American |
Practicing resident in counseling |
| Sasha |
41 |
0–5 years |
Female |
Black American |
Doctoral student |
| Serena |
26 |
0–5 years |
Female |
Black American |
Academic advisor |
| Trey |
32 |
6–10 years |
Male |
Black American |
Doctoral student |
| Victor |
33 |
0–5 years |
Male |
Black American |
Practicing counselor |
Data Collection and Analysis
Our sole data collection method was one-time, individual, semi-structured interviews with 28 contributors. We all participated in the data collection process, conducting individual interviews lasting on average 45 minutes each. Each interview was conducted using web conferencing technology (i.e., Zoom), was audio recorded, and was professionally transcribed. We developed an interview protocol to address our overall research question, informed by our review of the literature and specifically inquiring about the reasons contributors chose to become professional counselors. The interview protocol can be found in the Appendix.
Our data analysis process was consistent with general grounded theory analysis methods (Miles & Huberman, 1994; Vollstedt & Rezat, 2019) and those identified by counseling researchers who have conducted and published grounded theory research studies (Hannon & Hannon, 2017; Singh et al., 2010), which included an interactive, three-step process of open coding, axial coding, and selective coding. Our open coding process began after the completion of the fifth interview, wherein members of our team conducted a detailed review of the interviews to find discrete ideas, events, or experiences (i.e., codes) that communicated the reasons why the contributors decided to become professional counselors (Corbin & Strauss, 1990; Singh et al., 2010). Open codes from the first five interviews helped us to develop a codebook as a basis for comparison for the remaining 23 interviews. Our team reached consensus on a list of open codes present in the 28 interviews and then began the axial coding process. Axial coding is a process in which “categories are related to their sub-categories, and the relationships tested against the data” (Corbin & Strauss, 1990, p. 13). In essence, our research team worked together to categorize the open codes, describing them more summatively as we considered the causal conditions, contexts, and intervening variables that explained why these contributors chose to become counselors (Corbin & Strauss, 1990). Finally, we engaged in selective coding of the interview data, which required us to identify a core category that described the central phenomenon (i.e., decision to become counselors) around which all other categories are integrated (Vollstedt & Rezat, 2019).
Trustworthiness
To validate our discoveries, our research team employed a number of trustworthiness strategies. One strategy was member checking (Hannon & Hannon, 2017; Lincoln, 1995) at three different times: 1) during interviews (i.e., asking clarifying questions of contributors during interviews); 2) after interviews (i.e., forwarding transcribed interviews to contributors for additional information and/or corrections); and 3) after our agreement of findings (i.e., providing an executive summary of findings to contributors). No contributors requested content changes. A second trustworthiness strategy we leveraged was investigator triangulation (Denzin & Lincoln, 2000), or when a study includes multiple researchers to assist with accuracy and confirmability of analysis. The investigator triangulation was facilitated through activities such as team meetings to discuss our relationship to the research topic, our individual interpretations of the data, and the subsequent consensus coding that allowed us to intentionally monitor and address the influences of any potential biases. This investigator triangulation provided our team the opportunity to bracket any potential biases we had in our analysis process. A third strategy we used was individual journaling (Giorgi, 1985) to help inform our analysis meetings and determine the ways in which contributors’ accounts affected us emotionally and/or intellectually.
Findings
We endeavored to learn, and develop a grounded theory about, why a group of Black people decided to become counselors through this study. What we identified, grounded in the contributors’ responses, was a set of interacting and influencing factors that inspired them to become counselors. These Black counselors were motivated to join the profession based on their inspiration to challenge cultural mandates (i.e., grounding motivator), to disrupt Black underrepresentation (i.e., secondary motivator), and to live out their personal and professional convictions (i.e., secondary motivator). A visual representation of our grounded theory can be found in Figure 1. What follows is a description of our grounded theory.
Figure 1
Grounded Theory Diagram
Challenging Cultural Mandates (Grounding Motivator)
Contributors’ responses indicated they were all motivated to join the profession, in part, to challenge cultural mandates imposed on them by both Black people and people from other racial and/or ethnic groups. These mandates were articulated by implying specific societal and/or career expectations for Black people and communicated ideas and stereotypes like, “Black people don’t do counseling” or professional counseling is not a financially viable career. There was variance in contributors’ answers about this, potentially influenced by their role and years in the profession (e.g., master’s student, practicing counselor, counselor educator/supervisor). The data suggested that the more years in the profession, the more explicit, unapologetic, and clear their rationale was to challenge these cultural mandates. For example, Sasha, a 41-year-old counseling doctoral student, discussed challenging stereotypes about the benefit of counseling for Black people: “In the Black community, they’re like, ‘Oh, I don’t need help, I don’t have mental issues.’ And that was part of my motivation to let them know it’s okay to get counseling.” Ada, a 28-year-old counselor and counseling doctoral student, described her experience receiving mixed messages about working in mental health from people with whom she attended her Black church, saying, “I remember expressing that interest . . . and most people were like, ‘That’s, like really needed, especially in our community.’ But this one older woman was just like, ‘You want to work with people who are like, messed up in the mind?’” Jalen, a 40-year-old counselor, spoke about the strategies he used to make his counseling career financially viable, noting, “In-home counseling led me into . . . people talking about how you can make more money by getting more credentials.”
Black (Under)Representation (Secondary Motivator)
All of the contributors to this study explicitly spoke about being motivated to become counselors for more representation in the profession. We learned from the contributors that this motivator was influenced by two variables: 1) having an adult/senior influence, and 2) having negative personal counseling experiences. Many shared compelling stories of an adult/senior influence (e.g., a family member, a professor) who encouraged them to consider professional counseling as a career option. Additionally, many shared negative experiences as clients. Mildred P., a 51-year-old professional counselor, shared the importance of having a counselor that has a shared racial and/or ethnic identity, noting, “I’ve not seen counselors that look like me. And I feel like . . . if you can relate on the surface, then there’s a level of comfort.” Jo, a 63-year-old counselor who works with college students, addressed the need for more Black counselors who work with college students to increase representation and to amend negative counseling experiences she and Black student clients have had:
There was only one Black counselor there, and she can’t see everybody in the 48,000 population at [redacted university]. She can’t see everyone. And so, they [Black students] didn’t want to go. Or, they’ve gone before and their experiences weren’t the best. And they don’t go back. We know that that happens all the time. It’s even happened to myself. So, when I was thinking about what I can do, because I can complain, you know, and say, ‘Oh, we don’t have counselors, we don’t have counselors,’ or I can do something about it in my little area of the world.
The experience of having an adult/senior influence on these contributors’ motivation to become professional counselors and increase Black representation was salient. Denise, a 42-year-old counselor educator, shared the profound impact of having a Black mentor who was a professional counselor. She shared, “What really was beneficial was seeing . . . a Black man willing to show someone the ropes. . . . I emailed that person, and they responded the same day. That just spoke so much to me of their integrity.” Serena, a 26-year-old Black counselor, recalled the importance of adult/senior influences in her desire to join the profession, noting,
ACA did a mentoring program and . . . I kind of forgotten I’d signed up. And then I got an email saying you’re connected to a mentor and it was great. She had two mentees and she was a counselor of color from [university redacted] and very passionate about empowering people of color, and she was the one, she was the first person to ask me, ‘Why do you want a doctorate?’ In all my—since undergrad—no one asked me that. . . . She was awesome. She introduced me to one of her doctoral students, another Black woman. We met a couple times over Zoom as well.
Finally, Rene and Dorothy provided examples of the ways that negative counseling experiences inspired them to become counselors to increase Black representation in the field. Rene, a 29-year-old female counselor, shared, “In my own journey, I saw how difficult it is to find counselors who had similar identities. And that furthered my already very strong desire to be in the helping profession . . . be a part of that as well.” Dorothy, a 45-year-old counselor, offered a similar sentiment:
I had experiences growing up that led me to therapy personally. And it was really difficult to find a therapist who I could identify with, who I didn’t have to explain in detail about why something was upsetting to me. And I had some experiences that were so difficult that I didn’t return to counseling for several years. And so that was a real driving force in me deciding to enter this profession a little bit later in my life. Because I wanted to be able to offer that to people in similar situations.
Personal and Professional Convictions (Secondary Motivator)
The responses from the contributors in our study indicated that they had personal and professional convictions that motivated them to become professional counselors. Throughout their stories, it was clear to our team that the contributors possessed personal and professional values that inspired them to take action (i.e., become counselors) which allowed them to experience personal and professional congruence. We interpreted the contributors’ personal and professional convictions as a consequence of two factors: 1) they all possessed altruistic dispositions, and 2) they all possessed values of justice and equity.
Evidence of the influence of altruistic dispositions on the contributors’ convictions and ultimate choice to become counselors were present in the following ways. Michelle, a 26-year-old counseling student, simply stated, “You know . . . it’s also just wanting to help people and wanting to show people compassion. And teach them that compassion for themselves. That’s big for me.” Likewise, Morris, a 22-year-old master’s student, shared,
Most of the time, my friends didn’t want to go to the counselors either. So we ended up just being there for each other and just trying to solve each other’s problems or give each other advice. So I just realized maybe I should seek this in a professional way.
Destiny, a 33-year-old counselor educator, supervisor, and clinician, reiterated this point, noting that she had “this compulsion to kind of really help people, to really just talk, and recognizing that . . . my empathy was so innate, and just other effective qualities that you would consider to be associated with a counselor.”
The contributors to this study also clearly valued equity and justice for individuals and communities, which guided their personal and professional convictions and ultimate decisions to become counselors. One example of this is from Aisha S., a 36-year-old counselor educator and supervisor. She described her motivation to be a counselor as being connected to a greater purpose, sharing, “What else stood out for me from those experiences that made me consider professional counseling . . . was being able to . . . think about how I can engage in advocacy efforts at the local level, at the grassroots level.”
Ada, a 28-year-old counselor and counseling doctoral student, shared a similar narrative that centered justice and equity as salient forces among her personal and professional convictions:
I think because I’ve been in that situation where . . . I’ve had to deal with microaggressions or . . . just flat out . . . ignorance, I think that those experiences, along with my own personal therapy, have helped me to pause and think about areas that I am privileged. . . . I don’t have to worry about being deported. I don’t have any disabilities. So, like, I don’t have to constantly think about things like, does this place have an elevator? Or, does this place, like, have a ramp or something like that?
This presentation of a grounded theory explaining why a sample of Black people chose to become professional counselors illustrates the complex and interacting variables that influenced their career choice. It provides our profession insight into how we might continue to attract, retain, and support more diverse people entering the profession and hopefully experiencing career satisfaction.
Discussion
Our study sought to answer a critical question: What motivates Black people to become professional counselors? The findings of the study suggest a confluence of experiences, influences, and variables that led this group of Black people to ultimately join the profession. By leveraging concepts from two theories (i.e., CRT and Theory of Nigrescence), we discovered the salient reasons for 28 Black people to become professional counselors. Three explicit factors lent themselves to the development of a grounded theory that will hopefully engender further study. We offer an account of the ways the findings complement and/or challenge past findings on this issue, and present potentially new insights.
The challenging cultural mandates and Black (under)representation factors specifically address how our research base has informed counselors about Black people’s experiences with counseling and allied mental health professions. The contributors shared the ways systemic, individual, and/or internalized racism has influenced their experiences in and with counseling. Their responses explicitly align with tenets of CRT (Delgado & Stefancic, 2001). The contributors’ various accounts of experiences with racism in several forms (e.g., microaggressions, being tokenized, being excluded) reiterate all the ways in which racism is an intrusive force in the lives of Black and other people of color in the United States (McGee & Stovall, 2015). The counseling profession is at a crossroads with determining training standards and the ways that those training standards will prepare counseling students to meet the needs of diverse clients (CACREP, 2023; Hannon et al., 2023). The sociopolitical climate in the United States continues to be tenuous given anti-Black legislation in states like Florida and North Carolina that is outlawing teaching courses about Black people’s history and diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging for university faculty and staff.
The personal and professional convictions factor offers potentially new insight about how salient the contributors’ values are for deciding to become counselors. The contributors’ decision to become counselors was a result of their altruistic dispositions and their commitment to justice and equity, factors that may assist professional counselors to inspire others to envision counseling as a catalyst for justice for Black people and people from other marginalized groups. These values are congruent with our various codes of ethics (American Counseling Association, 2014; National Board for Certified Counselors, 2023) and the Multicultural and Social Justice Counseling Competencies (Ratts et al., 2016). These specific motivations align closely with what has been reported about why some Black people chose to become nurses, citing a calling (Anonymous, 2008). Further, we tentatively assert the connection of this finding with Cross and colleagues’ (1991) Theory of Nigrescence. We believe that there may be a connection between what stage of racial identity development Black people are functioning from (i.e., pre-encounter, encounter, immersion/emersion, internalization) and their willingness to make choices that reflect their altruistic dispositions and justice values. There are two points of inference worth raising here. First, the contributors to this study explicitly and implicitly made mention of their own racial identity development being closer to the internalization stage when deciding to become a counselor, and we associate that with their inclination to advocate for and pursue justice for themselves and their communities. We wonder if a more mature racial identity development is a predictor of choosing to become a counselor among Black people. Second, the contributors discussed various forms of racism that they experienced in their preparation programs and how, at times, it prompted them to assess where they were in their racial identity development (e.g., operating from an internalization paradigm and moving to an immersion/emersion paradigm depending on the type or form of racism experienced).
The findings also complement prior studies about the career development of Black people in general (Bell, 2018; Byars-Winston, 2010; Byars-Winston & Fouad, 2006), and specifically about counselors (Branch, 2018). It also aligns with the salience of race in career choice and decision-making. The contributors to this study explicitly mentioned that race was an influence (e.g., Black [under]representation) and that their experiences in and with counseling were influenced by their racial identity, illuminating the relevance of CRT (Delgado & Stefancic, 2001; McGee & Stovall, 2015) and Cross et al.’s (1991) Theory of Nigrescence. Branch (2018) indicated that the most salient reason why a sample of Black men became counselors was because of prior positive experiences with Black male counselors (e.g., informal relationships, mentoring relationships, treatment). The study contributors’ negative counseling experiences and their relationships with their adult senior influencer demonstrated how their racial identity significantly impacted their career choices and overall professional development.
Implications
We believe the results from our study can inform the ways that our profession engages with, attracts, supports, retains, and invests in Black counselors. What follows is a presentation of the implications of these findings within two specific contexts: 1) counselor education programs and 2) counseling practice. Counselor education programs must commit to increasing Black representation in their programs by taking explicit steps to challenge admission requirements found to be culturally biased and engage in bolder and more innovative recruitment and retention/support efforts (e.g., agreements with historically Black colleges and universities, predominantly Black colleges and universities, and/or minority-serving institutions) for Black students enrolled in their programs. Counselor education programs can intentionally engage with undergraduate student organizations to further orient potential Black applicants to the counseling profession at large. This research indicates that Black representation is essential in encouraging and promoting mental health services and wellness for Black people. Black representation also encourages Black people to join the profession, a factor that counseling institutions should acknowledge and utilize. An increase in Black representation in counseling programs provides the rationale to engage counseling students in the reflective work that helps them become clearer about their own racial identity development, their own assertions about the influence of race and racism on their own and clients’ lives, and their own career development trajectory. This can be exceptionally helpful in didactic instruction and individual and group supervision.
Finally, the results of our study affirm the need for the counseling profession to continue acknowledging the importance of collaboration between counseling organizations that have different but complementary roles. For example, professional counseling organizations composed of primarily White members should prioritize endorsing and collaborating with professional counseling organizations whose missions and membership are primarily Black (e.g., National Association of Black Counselors, African American Counseling Association, Black Mental Health Symposium). These demonstrations of solidarity, partnership, and membership communicate clear support for such organizations and reiterates the importance of Black counselors identifying pathways for Black clients to culturally affirming and culturally relevant mental health care. Further, the relationships between counselor preparation programs and professional counselors must continue to be mutually beneficial. Practicing counselors are best positioned to inform and advise on community and client needs, given their important role in rendering services. Leveraging the insights of professional counselors to inform counselor education and research is paramount to treating clients in culturally relevant and responsive ways.
Limitations
We acknowledge the privilege that we have in conducting this study and the responsibility of sharing the results for the professional counseling readership. Likewise, we assume responsibility for sharing how the study is limited. One way is in the homogeneity of the sample. We recruited professional counselors who were Black, and the overwhelming majority of them were Black American, female, monolingual counselors. Although our contributors’ voices and experiences are critical for this discourse, a more diverse sample of Black counselors (e.g., Afro-Latine, continental African, Afro-Caribbean, bilingual and/or multilingual Black counselors) could possibly enrich the findings. This translates into another study limitation, which is the limited extent to which findings are transferable, given both the sample size and lack of ethnic diversity (Creswell & Poth, 2016). A third potential limitation is researcher bias. Although we attended to potential bias through trustworthiness strategies such as member checking, investigator triangulation, consensus coding, and research team debriefs, we acknowledge the intimate relationship we all have with this topic and the potential for our biases to influence our interpretations.
Future Research
Counseling researchers should invest more time in learning and sharing about why people choose counseling as a profession, particularly those people who have been historically excluded from the profession for a variety of reasons. Additional studies about why a wider range of people with intersecting and/or other marginalized identities choose to become counselors can enrich our literature and counseling profession at all levels (e.g., students, practicing counselors, counselor educators). For example, Black counselors who are multiracial, are immigrants, and/or speak multiple languages might have very different reasons for joining the profession than Black American counselors. The results from such studies will assist the profession to work from an evidence base to develop programs, interventions, and other forms of support to attract a more racially diverse workforce. Results from these types of studies will allow our profession to develop applicable career development theories that specifically study the lived experiences of Black people and people from other marginalized groups and address their career needs.
Conclusion
This study and its results can continue to assist our profession to exist as the just, inclusive, and affirming profession we aspire for it to be. Actualizing the courage to empirically investigate the reasons Black and other socially, economically, and linguistically diverse people choose to become professional counselors can only benefit our preparation programs, our practicing counselors, and our ever-evolving research base. We maintain hope for the profession’s future to live out our code of ethics (ACA, 2014) in this regard. This is just one step in our effort to sound the clarion call for professional counseling to understand the impact of Black counselors in the field and the importance of institutions (e.g., colleges, universities, professional organizations) having social, cultural, economic, linguistic, and gender diversity among their staff. We trust this contribution moves us to even more action.
Conflict of Interest and Funding Disclosure
The authors reported no conflict of interest.
This study was funded by an Association for
Counselor Education and Supervision Research
Grant and Montclair State University.
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Appendix
Interview Protocol
Individual Interview Questions/Script
Thank you for agreeing to participate in this important study. If you remember, this study is designed to begin providing an empirical base for what factors motivate Black people to become professional counselors. Please note these interviews will be audio recorded. Do you have any questions before we begin? Please take your time in answering the following questions and please be reminded that you can skip any question and withdraw at any time.
All participants should be asked these questions:
Would you share with me what motivated you to become a counselor?
What about those experiences convinced you that professional counseling was a good fit for your career?
What did/do you find most helpful in your counselor training?
What did/do you find most challenging in your counselor training?
Are/were you one of few Black students in your counselor training program?
If so, what is/was that experience like for you?
If not, what is/was that experience like for you?
Do you believe you experienced/are experiencing anti-Black racism in your counselor training program?
If so, in what ways is this happening/did this happen?
If participant is/was a practicing counselor, please ask:
What is most rewarding for you as a Black practicing counselor?
What role, if any, do Black counselors have in helping increase Black representation in counseling?
Do you believe anti-Black racism exists in professional counseling? If so, in what ways?
Are you one of few Black counselors where you practice?
If so, what is that experience like for you?
If not, what is that experience like for you?
If participant is a counselor educator, please ask:
How long have you been a counselor educator?
What motivated you to become a counselor educator?
What role, if any, do Black counselor educators have in helping increase Black representation in counseling?
Do you believe anti-Black racism exists in counselor education? If so, in what ways?
Are you one of few Black counselor educators where you teach?
If so, what is that experience like for you?
If not, what is that experience like for you?
Please conclude all individual interviews with this question and information:
Is there anything else you’d like to share about your motivations to become a professional counselor that we haven’t discussed to this point?
Thank you for participating in this interview. Your insights are valuable. What you can expect now is for our research team to transcribe this interview, de-identify it, and send it to you for your review to confirm its accuracy. Our team will then begin our analysis and send you updates on our interpretations of what participants have shared. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to be in touch with Dr. Hannon at hannonmi@montclair.edu.
Michael D. Hannon, PhD, NCC, BC-TMH, LAC (NJ), is an associate professor at Montclair State University. LaShawn M. Adams, MA, NCC, LPC (NJ), is a doctoral candidate at Montclair State University. Natalie Nieves, MA, NCC, LPC (NJ), is an instructor at Molloy University. Estefanie Ceballo, MSED, NCC, CCMHC, ACS, LMHC (NY), LPC (NJ), C-TFCBT, CCTP, is a doctoral candidate at Montclair State University. David Julius Ford, Jr., PhD, NCC, ACS, LCMHC (NC), LPC (NJ, VA), is an associate professor at Monmouth University. Linwood G. Vereen, PhD, LPC, is a clinical associate professor at Oregon State University. Correspondence may be addressed to Michael D. Hannon, 2114 University Hall, Department of Counseling, College for Community Health, Montclair State University, 1 Normal Avenue, Montclair, NJ 07043, hannonmi@montclair.edu.
