Leah I. Johnson, M.A.

Leah I. Johnson, M.A.

CNS 747: Cultures and Counseling

Personal-Cultural Analysis & Identity Development

06.04.17
Leah I. Johnson, M.A. 2

Abstract

There will be times in our lives that we are made to feel inferior, unworthy, ashamed and

unloved. We will be ridiculed, bullied, taken advantage of and ostracized based on the color of

our skin, our religious beliefs, who we choose to share our life with, our disabilities and deficits,

or any other characteristic not in alliance with the majority. However, when we learn to love

ourselves for who we are, to embrace the uncontrollable elements that comprise our astounding

cultural mosaic, we will never again be made to feel as less than the greatness God created us to

be. When I think about my life's voyage and my final decision to become a counselor, I cannot

help but to be aware of the fragments of my being that are sometimes considered to be flaws by

those who neither know me nor try to understand me. However, it is only fair that I concede to

the fact that those who view me as anything other than who I am, are simply individuals who

have yet to figure out who they are. I have made it my mission in life to help people excavate

who they were, make correlations to disclose who they are and cultivate them into who they have

yet to become. In the following document, I invite you to accompany me on a brief excursion

into the makings of me. It is my hope this will peak your interest and I strongly encourage you

to embark upon your very own journey as well.

Leah I. Johnson, M.A. 3

Day to day, I regularly interact with members of cultural groups different from my own.

From the time I arrive at my place of employment until I embrace my evening trip to the grocery

store, I encounter a plethora of ethnic groups that represent disparate cultures. Living so close to

the nation’s capitol affords me the opportunity to regularly interact with a melting pot of

individuals professionally, socially, and religiously. Prior to moving to southern Maryland, I

resided in Richmond, Virginia where I attended Virginia Commonwealth University, a university

well known for its ethnic diversity. As I matured, I developed a fondness for areas that were rich

in cultural diversity.

I experience the most diversity in the workplace. I can appreciate being welcomed to

school daily by students and teachers from Eritrea, Honduras, Pakistan, Vietnam, and so many

other territories that I do not always pronounce correctly. I have come to find comfort in being

asked “What are you?” from kids. This was a question that plagued me when I was younger,

because it was the defining moment that reminded me how other children saw me as “different”.

Now, the children, their parents, their teachers, their counselors, their friends and their neighbors

are all a rainbow of “different”. This question is no longer presented as a rude attempt to make

me feel ashamed, instead it is a genuine inquiry by a child that recognizes they live in a colorful

world and I am happy to share that experience with them.

I am grateful that my workplace is versatile. I believe it is beneficial for young people to

see all cultures intermingle professionally. I think it provides them with a framework of

acceptance and cultural harmony to build upon. Although, it is a professional setting and the

interactions may not be a true representative of how these cultures would possibly engage

outside of school, especially if the students are aware of current events, I still think it

demonstrates how to put cultural differences aside to achieve a common goal.

Leah I. Johnson, M.A. 4

On a smaller scale, the private company that I work for within the school, prides itself on

employing individuals from diverse backgrounds. Collectively, in an office that employs

approximately ten counselors we speak10-12 different languages and/or dialects. We honor that

at least two of our Muslim counselors must take breaks to pray during the school day and

provided words of encouragement for those fasting during the Lenten season. We have one

vegetarian and one vegan counselor, so during staff meetings or other events that require

catering, we ensure they have those two options available. I am proud to work for a company

that is conscious of these differences and makes the continuous effort to acknowledge them.

Socially, I do not have many interactions with cultures other than my own. While I am

respectful and do possess a healthy level of curiosity about other cultures, I tend not to deviate

from what I am used to, in terms of who I spend the majority of my down time with. Although I

am technically biracial, I never knew much about being Hispanic growing up and I do not speak

Spanish very well. Hence, this is a deterrent for me to immerse myself in activities held in the

Hispanic community near my home. However, I do thoroughly enjoy when my students invite

me to quinceñeras or other cultural events and try to teach me Spanish while I am there. Their

parents find me to be a bit of an enigma, as a Latina that does not speak Spanish. In my mild

paranoia, I think they find my Spanglish humorous, as the little ones giggle at my poorly

conjugated verbs. As I attempted to make sense of this recurring phenomenon in my life, I

decided it could possibly be attributed to trying so hard when I was younger to “fit in” with the

African-American population, that when I finally did, I never considered exploring anything else

for the fear of becoming the little girl that did not fit in anywhere all over again. I must admit

my irrational fears have kept me from subsuming all that other cultures have to offer.
Leah I. Johnson, M.A. 5

As I reflected on my religiously affiliations, attending church as a young person, was

similar to attending school or community functions. I was consumed by a culture totally different

from my own. As aforementioned, I do not speak Spanish fluently, so I attended Mass in

English at the Catholic Church with my mother in a small nearby city, which consisted of

predominantly caucasian parishioners. Although my mother speaks Spanish fluently, she felt I

would not truly be moved by the spirit or blessed accordingly if I was unable to understand the

sermon. My father was a deacon at a tiny black southern baptist church, where my mother,

brother, and I were the fairest skin individuals in the building. They ofter referred to my mother

as white, but were always polite welcoming.

My very first experience with racism occurred when I was in the sixth grade. I had been

invited to a classmate’s house one weekend for a birthday party/sleepover. My mother was

dropping me and my belongings off at my friend’s house when I realized that I had forgotten her

birthday present. I was very upset and my mother felt bad, so said she would call my father and

ask if he could bring it to me on his way through town. I was very thankful, kissed my mother

goodbye, and ran into the house with the other girls to put my stuff away.

Shortly thereafter, we were all playing outside in the back yard when we heard the

birthday girl’s mother calling for her husband and yelling “A nigger’s coming up to the house,

grab the shotgun!”. I was not certain what a nigger was and I recall thinking it must have been

some kind of big or dangerous animal if my friend’s dad needed the shotgun. As the other girls

and I rushed to the front yard to see what she was talking about, I saw my father’s pick-up truck

creeping up the driveway. I began running toward him, waving excitedly telling my friend that

my daddy had arrived with her gift. Suddenly, he turned his head toward me with a terrified look
Leah I. Johnson, M.A. 6

on his face and yelled at me not to move. It was not until that moment that I realized my friend’s

father had his shotgun pointed at my father.

Her dad asked what my dad was doing on his land, but before he had a chance to respond,

he had cocked the shotgun and fired in the direction of the truck. I was so scared because I did

not understand. I ran inside the house, crying and grabbing my stuff, when the girls mom asked

what was wrong. I explained that her husband had just shot at my father; she looked very

confused, told me to stay inside the house and quickly said how sorry she was before she ran

outside yelling at her husband to put his gun down. As the other girls were filing into the house,

I overheard a couple of them saying that I was so pretty, they would have never guessed my

daddy was a nigger. I walked out of the house and got into my dad’s truck; we rode in silence

the whole way home. I never told my mom what really happened that day. When she asked why

I had not stayed the night, I just told her I had felt sick and wanted to come home. Neither my

dad nor I ever spoke of that day again. My heart was broken when I realized that a nigger was

not some big or dangerous animal, at least that was not the way I saw him.

The following Monday at school, my classmate tried to apologize for her parents and

insisted she did not look at me or my father that way. I accepted her apology, but in the back of

my mind all I could hear was the conversation between my aunt and my father saying that it was

a nice of her to invite me to her party, but now that she knew my daddy was Black, it would just

be a matter of time before she turned into her parents. What happened that weekend changed my

life and the way I perceived the world around me; it was the first time I saw Black and White.

What I learned from this experience was enlightening and depressing at the same time

because I lived in and attended school in a predominantly white neighborhood. Girls I had

known most of my life suddenly were not allowed to play with me and elected not to speak to me
Leah I. Johnson, M.A. 7

anymore. Boys that used to say I was pretty and would ask to hold my hand or twirl my curly

hair, now said I was dirty and my hair was “nappy”. Adult conversations took on new meanings

to me. I heard my dad’s family talk about white people in a way I had never heard them talk

about them before. How I viewed white people changed drastically, whereas before I had just

seen people, after that defining experience everything was different. Looking back on it, I would

have to compare it to when Eve ate the apple in the Garden of Eden, what was once good and

beautiful, in the blink of an eye became bad and shameful.

As I researched the development models, I found that on the general Racial and Cultural

Identity Development continuum, I am currently at the Integrative Awareness (Sue & Sue, 1999)

stage. I feel that I have achieved an inner sense of security. I have also grown to appreciate

and accept the positive and negative aspects of my own culture in addition to what is

considered to be the dominant culture. I maintain a strong, positive sense of pride in what it

means to me to be a biracial woman; however, as I have aged I have learned to express empathy

and provide support for all people that have experienced oppression in some form or another. I

am more aware and educated well enough to challenge some group values that I do not

necessarily align myself with. Although I do not interact with members of other minority groups

as much as I probably should, I no longer have tunnel vision and am willing to gain a greater

understanding of their attitudes and experiences.

When looking at the Multicultural Identity Development Model initially developed by W.

S. Carlos Poston and reflecting on the recent death of my maternal grandmother, I realized that I

am barely exiting the Enmeshment (Poston, 1990) stage. During her funeral, I had no choice but

to acknowledge how little I knew about my Hispanic heritage. I experienced a deep feeling of

shame, because for decades I had rejected that part of who I am. I flew out of the town, attended
Leah I. Johnson, M.A. 8

this funeral and was immersed in a culture, participating in rituals that were foreign to me. All

this occurred during the last term, when I was enrolled in my family counseling course. On my

flight home, I could not help but to feel immense guilt for my lack of knowledge and

unwillingness to embrace this culture when I was younger.

When it finally occurred to me how that level of rejection must have made my mother

feel, I was forced to explore my own feelings about it all. I had to contemplate why I had

rejected it in the first place, adjust my worldview, then attempt to repair my relationship with my

mother. I am grateful that stage did not last very long; I am currently at the Appreciation stage.

Through conversations with my mother about her childhood and working more closely with

the Hispanic population that I serve, I have begun to develop a greater perspective and

appreciation for the previously rejected side of my racial heritage.

My parents have varying beliefs about people from different walks of life. I have

learned that they are both accepting and/or at the very least tolerant in their own way. In

terms of religion and disability they are both accepting and embrace the differences of others

they encounter. Both my mother and father’s families have experienced living with

individuals with either mental health disabilities or physical limitations; which I am sure

shaped their level of understand and compassion for people living with those types of

afflictions.

Additionally, my mother is Catholic and my father is Southern Baptist, therefore in

order for their marriage to be successful on a spiritual level, they learned to be open minded

about the many differences the two religions encompassed. My mother gravitated more

toward white southern baptists versus black southern baptists as she grew older and my

father never really warmed up to being Catholic, but they were both respectful enough when
Leah I. Johnson, M.A. 9

it came time to agree to disagree. My parents experiences with disabled individuals and

varying religions helped me develop a firm sense of spirituality despite religious affiliation

and compassion for individuals that struggle with disabilities.

While I would have thought their feelings about different races and ethnicities would

have had a similar outcomes, this was not the case. Their worldview on racial disparities

was shaped based on their personal experiences. My mother was raised in a region that had

limited access to cultures other than her own, but she longed for diversity and exploration of

the unknown; she is accepting of all people and embraced all things cultural, which she

encouraged her children to do as well. However, I know that she inadvertently finds

caucasians to be superior and prefers their company over the company of other ethnicities.

My father, on the other had, similarly to Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (2009) and her

account of the dangers of a single story, was raised in a demographic that was a 50/50 split

of African-Americans and Caucasians, but no other races. Due to experiences such as the

example provided earlier and lack of knowledge regarding other cultures, he was indifferent

to their existence. When he went away to war in Iran, Iraq and Afghanistan, he returned

home even less tolerant of cultures different from his own. While my father is a very

friendly, jovial individual and adored by most people he meets, he specifically elects not to

maintain the company of other races for extended periods of time unless he has no other

choice.

In terms of sexual orientation, this was an area that my mother had more positive

exposure to than my father. My mother had a close neighborhood friend and a cousin that

she grew up with who both knew at early ages they were homosexuals. My father did not

have any personal connections with homosexuals until I disclosed my sexual preferences to
Leah I. Johnson, M.A. 10

him. His only exposure to them had been when he was a corrections officer in a maximum

security penitentiary. They would often make advances at him or inappropriate

gestures/comments toward him; thus leaving a less than desirable impression. Needless to

say, he was not very receptive to the idea of his only child exuding Gay Pride. I do not

think either of my parent’s experiences with homosexuals influenced my cultural identity

development because I was unaware of their interactions with or beliefs about this

population prior to my coming out. However, their religious influence on my life affected

how I felt about myself as a lesbian and how I conducted myself in their presence.

I believe my current racial/cultural identity development is directly related to my

ability to be an effective counselor in a myriad of ways depending on how it is applied.

Being a member of four minority groups, African-American, Hispanic, a female, and a

lesbian has afforded me the opportunity to view the world through sundry lenses. Both life

experiences and life choices have made me resilient and helped develop an understanding of

how being looked at differently can impact my interpersonal growth and development. I

read this quote several times and grew quite fond of it, “The paradoxical aspects of the

human condition are that the worst calamities impinged on individuals can also bring out

the best in them (Duncan, Miller, & Sparks, 2004). I think this quote greatly impacts how I

view the populations I serve.

Although my client’s experiences may be different from my own, understanding

those experiences shaped the people that sit before me, allows me to implement resilience

into therapeutic interventions, while being empathetic toward their struggles. In order to

best serve individuals from racial and cultural variances, I had to evolve in my thought

processes and attempt to dissect the sum of my parts. Truly embracing my own beliefs,
Leah I. Johnson, M.A. 11

values, lifestyle choices, and preferences helps me comprehend the excruciating process of

facing the reality of me. Everyone must go through a similar process, albeit not necessarily

in the same order as mine or even on the same timeline. Additionally, some, more than

others, need help coming to terms with the ugly truths that have created demons they would

much rather ignore. That is when my ability to effectively counsel culturally diverse

populations comes into play. I must be able to demonstrate compassion, empathy, an

increased level of knowledge and comprehension of their hardships, even if I have never

walked a mile in their shoes. If I can accomplish this feat, then I am able to build rapport

and open a window of opportunity to establish a therapeutic relationship.

I have always considered myself to be highly accepting of the differences of others.

However, it was not until I fully accepted myself and all the entities coming together to

formulate my existence, that I was able to see people for who they are and how they came

to be. I see my clients as puzzles consisting of delicate pieces that tend to be scattered, bent

at the edges, creased in the middle and sometimes missing; that is not all they are though. I

know that those same tattered pieces are capable of creating the most beautiful pictures and

it is my responsibility to show my clients what I see in them and help them believe in the

process of putting their pieces back together despite all racial, cultural, or other barriers that

may try to thwart their attempts.

Leah I. Johnson, M.A. 12

References

Adichie, C.N. (2009, July). Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie: The danger of a single story [Video
file]. Retrieved fromhttps://www.ted.com/talks
chimamanda_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story.

Duncan, B., Miller, S., & Sparks, J. (2004). The heroic client: A revolutionary way to improve
effectiveness through client-directed, outcome-informed therapy. San Francisco, CA: Jossey-
Bass.

Helms, J.E. & Cook, D. A. (1999). Using race and culture in counseling and psychotherapy:
Theory and process. Boston: Allyn & Bacon.

Poston, W.S.C. (1990). The Biracial Identity Development Model: A Needed Addition.
Journal of Counseling and Development, 69, 152–155.

Sue, D. W., & Sue, D. (2003). Counseling the culturally diverse: Theory and practice (4th ed.).
New York: John Wiley.

Thomas, A. J. (2017). Culture and Identity, 3rd Edition. [Textbooks.com]. Retrieved from
https://bookshelf.textbooks.com/#/books/9781506305691/