Therapy in the Danger Zone


Therapy in the Danger Zone

Breaking the cycle of family trauma

By Mary Jo Barrett

March/April 2010


Although it was 32 years ago, I can still remember my first therapy case like it was yesterday. Fresh out of grad school, on the first day of my first job, I was handed a child protective services report by my supervisor. As I read it, the fear and nausea set in. Nothing about my education or life experience to this point had prepared me for the world I was entering.

The father, a Chicago cop named Joe, who for years had beaten his wife and son, and had sexually abused his daughter, Laura, since she was 11, was clearly a monster, whom I was thankful I'd never have to meet. On her 16th birthday, Laura had finally gone to her mother's room, the family car keys in hand, and said, "Either him or me. Get him out of here or I'm gone!" The mom, Tanya, called the child protection unit of the Department of Children and Family Services and reported Joe, who was immediately arrested. Nevertheless, as a parting shot, he broke Tanya's ribs and smashed her face with the butt of his gun.

On the day of our first appointment, I went to the waiting room to greet Tanya, who was sitting there alone because she hadn't been able to get her children to come with her. A small, fragile-looking woman, she barely looked at me as I approached. On this cold December morning, she was wearing a long skirt with pants underneath, which reminded me of how my friends and I used to dress in grade school. Looking at this grown woman in her ridiculous, childlike outfit, I wondered to myself, "Why…

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