It was almost midnight when Anita Mandleyās phone lit up with yet another text message. It was the seventh of her therapy clients sheād heard from on election night. Exhausted, she switched off the small television in her bedroom, crawled under the covers, and turned out the lights. For many people in Mandleyās Chicago neighborhood, the unthinkable was about to happen: by morning, Donald Trump would be the president-elect.
Having spent more than 30 years working with trauma clients, Mandley knew she was experiencing some undeniable signs of trauma herself. āAs a woman of color,ā she recalls, āI was immobilized. My heart felt like it was in my throat.ā She lives in one of Chicagoās bluest neighborhoods, along with many Somali, Pakistani, Jewish, and mixed-race families. That morning, as she drove to work, just minutes from Grant Parkāwhere Barack Obama had delivered his victory speech nearly eight years agoāthe mood on the streets was suffocatingly eerie. āIt felt like thereād been a death,ā Mandley says. āI kept thinking, whatās going to happen to my block? My neighbors? How am I supposed to help my clients find hope when I canāt even find it myself?ā
Since the election, therapists and clients alike have been grappling with the aftermath of what was arguably one of the most contentious and divisive races in modern history. Clinicians say itās permeated conversations in consulting rooms, dredging up old traumas for some and creating a slew of new problems for others who couldnāt see eye to eye with family members, friends, coworkers, or even their spouses. Both Republicans and Democrats have been affected. According to the American Psychological Associationās Stress in America study, conducted in October, more than half of American adults surveyedā55 percent of Democrats and 59 percent of Republicansāreported that the election had been āa very or somewhat significant source of stress.ā
But therapists like Mandley, who work mainly with minorities, say their clients have been disproportionately affected by whatās been going on. Since the election, the Southern Poverty Law Center has recorded more than four times the yearly average of hate crimes. According to NAACP President Cornell Williams Brooks, āThe 2016 campaign has regularized racism, standardized anti-Semitism, de-exceptionalized xenophobia, and mainstreamed misogyny.ā GLAAD announced the creation of The Trump Accountability Project, a catalog of the president-electās anti-LGBTQ statements and āother hateful rhetoric, discriminatory actions, and exclusionary worldviews.ā The Council on AmericanāIslamic Relationsā Government Affairs Director Robert McCaw criticized several members of Trumpās transition team, saying they ādemonstrate a troubling acceptance of anti-Muslim bigotry, conspiracy theories, and agenda-driven policy proposals.ā
A sense of mission resulting from all this has helped jumpstart many cliniciansā work in the therapy room. āI needed a way to move out of my contracted state,ā Mandley says. āAnd that meant getting to work and being a compassionate witness to my clientsā suffering.ā In fact, Mandleyās first client the day after the election was an undocumented immigrant from Ireland who as a child had been sexually abused by neighbors. Since hearing Trumpās hot mic comments on the leaked Access Hollywood tape, sheād been experiencing flashbacks and nightmares. āThereās no justice,ā the woman had sobbed. āWith Trump in office, thereās no safe place for me now.ā In that moment, Mandley decided the best course of action was a simple but important one: creating an atmosphere of safety through empathic presence. āWhat youāre feeling is real and valid,ā she told her client. āWhat does it feel like to have someone sit with you who gets what youāre going through?ā The woman nodded and began to relax. āI couldnāt tell her that everything was going to be okay,ā Mandley explains, ābecause I donāt know that. But I could say, āIām here with you, and Iām not going anywhere.āā
Halfway across the country, therapist Margie Nichols was dealing with her own clientsā post-election crises. Since the late ā80s, sheād been a fervent LGBTQ advocate in New Jerseyās poor neighborhoods, managing an overflow of AIDS patients from New Yorkās beleaguered Gay Menās Health Crisis centers back when, as she puts it, āthere was public talk about tattooing and quarantining gay people.ā Nichols, who mostly sees clients from the LGBTQ community, says every single one of them has expressed anxiety over the election, but on a scale she says is unprecedented in her 30 years of practice. āThe atmosphere of doom has been really palpable for anybody who comes to see me,ā she says. āTheyāre hypervigilant and on guard. Trump is legitimizing hate and bigotry in a way I havenāt seen since the ā80s.ā
Nichols says many of her transgender clients have experienced setbacks since Trumpās election. Before November, for example, an older transgender woman she treats had been planning to come out to coworkers and her young son. But after the election, she decided to put her plans on hold, fearing Trumpās win had cleared the way for anti-trans discrimination. āI havenāt slept since the election,ā she told Nichols. āI feel depressed in a way I havenāt felt in years. I canāt escape the feeling that everyone can see who I am, and they hate me. I feel suicidal again.ā Another transgender client with a Republican father had decided to skip his familyās annual Thanksgiving celebration, explaining that his fatherās vote for Trump felt like āa personal betrayal.ā
Nichols is using a number of interventions to help her LGBTQ clients in these times. If theyāve worked through initial self-care routines and feel prepared for more active coping methods, sheāll role-play encounters with Trump supporters. In the case of the client who skipped the Thanksgiving celebration, sheās helping him find ways to connect with those who have different views. āBeing confrontational isnāt going to help anything,ā Nichols says. āBut if people can offer some policy facts and explain to someone why this is a scary thing for them, theyāre going to get more empathy.ā
Additionally, Nichols says a particularly effective remedy for postelection anxiety is establishing a sense of community by connecting with like-minded people. There are many outlets to choose from, she explains, including joining marches, volunteering locally, or donating money to organizations dedicated to change. Some of her clients have even volunteered to walk fellow minority community members home from the local train station at night so they donāt feel unsafe. āI try to go beyond just validating and help people not only figure out how to protect themselves, but regain a sense of power and control,ā Nichols says. āUltimately, the only antidote to feeling frightened and helpless is feeling some sense of agency.ā
A few weeks after the election, Nichols drove to a small, two-story building on the outskirts of Jersey City, the largest gay community in the state. Inside, employees of Hudson Pride, a transgender community organization, were busy planning a vigil for the Transgender Day of Remembrance. They expected a small crowd, maybe a dozen people at most, but as time passed, something exceptional happened. More and more people walked through the door, until the cisgender attendees nearly outnumbered the transgender ones. Soon, more than 50 people were crammed into the front lobby. āIt brought tears to my eyes,ā Nichols recalls. āItās really meaningful to know there are allies who support you. Just showing up can provide a sense of safety. These days, thatās what Iām trying to do in my therapy work.ā
For hours, the group, which included many low-income people of color from the neighborhood, talked and laughed over dinner āas if theyād known each other forever,ā Nichols recalls. Afterward, they filed into an adjacent parking lot, held hands, and lit candles. After a moment of silence, they read aloud the names of every transgender person killed in hate crimes over the past yearā87 in all. āItās a hell of a way to get unity,ā Nichols says with a sigh. āBut I think weāre going to be okay.ā
Mainstream publications like USA Today and The Boston Globe have likened post-election anxiety to post-traumatic stress disorder, the latter dubbing it āa new kind of grief.ā And given the heightened sense of anxiety, shock, and helplessness being reported among Clinton supporters, especially in minority communities, itās easy to see why some experts agree. But while thereās overlap in symptoms, and trauma survivors are certainly prone to retraumatization after the election, many clinicians emphasize the importance of recognizing when their clients are catastrophizing.
āSometimes our clientsā concerns arenāt realistic,ā says therapist Stephen Holland, a specialist in mood and anxiety disorders. āWe shouldnāt invalidate their concerns, and we shouldnāt tell them everything is going to be okay either,ā he says. āBut we have to do some reality checking.ā A gay client who came to see Holland after the election, for instance, was particularly agitated, fearing Trump might order the deportation of all homosexuals. āHas anybody actually suggested that?ā Holland asked the man. āPeople may be deported, and Trump may be no fan of gay rights, but gay people arenāt going anywhere.ā
So whatās the best pathway to healing? For many of his clients, Holland says, itās rebuilding relationships damaged during the election. After all, contrary to the opinion of many Clinton supporters, most people who voted for Trump didnāt do so out of bigotry, Nichols says. Seeking to understand Trump supportersā concernsāand seeking understanding in returnāshould be the top priority, she argues, adding, āWe still want them as allies.ā
The real grief of this election, adds Connecticut therapist Elaine Ducharme, is that so many people say theyāve lost someone they loved. āAt the end of the day, if we can remember that as a country we share a lot of commonalities, maybe itāll help us come together and shape politics in a healthier way,ā she says. Of course, some clients continue to work through the grief of Hillary Clintonās loss. As Mandley points out, āThereās no Hallmark sympathy card for when Donald Trump becomes president. Thereās no wake, and thereās no shiva.ā But slowly, many therapists say their clients are beginning to rebound, employing self-care, keeping things in perspective, and when possible, doing what they can to stay vigilant. āEverybodyās coming up with their own version of what they need to do,ā says Nichols. āIn a month or two, weāll be seeing a lot less anxiety and a lot more activity.ā
Several days after the election, Mandley held a session with one of her quieter female clients, a young black woman whoās a sexual assault survivor. āYou must be worried,ā Mandley said to her. āI say good,ā her client chuckled in response. Before the election, she went on to explain, rampant bigotry was seldom acknowledged by many Americans. Now that it had been brought to the surface, she felt motivated to be more of an activist. Soon afterward, she joined the online community group Pantsuit Nationānamed after Hillary Clintonās affinity for the outfitāwhere she was able to connect with other trauma survivors, trade stories, and eventually network with local organizations dedicated to policy change. āThere was a point in my life where I couldnāt fight back,ā the woman told Mandley. āNot anymore.ā
Mandley recalls this session fondly, calling it a turning point in her clientās healing and her own. āThereās energy in them,ā she says of her minority clients. āWhatās my job? They already have the answers inside of them,ā she explains. āIām just welcoming the unfolding of parts that can stand up and fight. Thatās the work.ā
Chris Lyford
Chris Lyford is the Senior Editor at Psychotherapy Networker. Previously, he was assistant director and editor of the The Atlantic Post, where he wrote and edited news pieces on the Middle East and Africa. He also formerly worked at The Washington Post, where he wrote local feature pieces for the Metro, Sports, and Style sections. Contact: clyford@psychnetworker.org.