These are troubling times to be sure. Being a counselor in rural Ohio (Trump Country) has become increasingly more challenging. In the past, I have flowed from my own more progressive understanding to my clients more conservative views with a natural kind of ease. Being different from others has made accepting diverse views easier. I have always acknowledged and respected my clients’ beliefs while holding firm to my own, keeping my thoughts to myself as I have been trained to do. When a client sits across from a counselor, it is the counselor’s job to create space for them to explore their thoughts and feelings without judgment. Remaining curious and asking good questions. This is a skill I have been honing for over 15 years with varying degrees of success. I continue to grow in my profession, challenged by trainings that give me a glimpse into how other more experienced counselors work. It has been a rewarding challenge, until now. Working intentionally to separate my personal life from my professional life has become exhausting.

My youngest child came out to my husband and I as gay while he was still in high school (2016) and it has been over 6 years since my oldest child transitioned from male to female. Having a gay son and a trans daughter has opened my eyes, my mind and my heart in ways I did not know were necessary. It gets harder and harder to hear anti LBGTQIA rhetoric. It usually comes out as a restatement of what my client has heard somewhere else, FOX news, church, the radio. I want to be able to challenge my clients to think, but I want to do it from a position of openness and grace not defensiveness.

When I first started counseling, I marketed my practice to the churches in our area. After all the years as a pastor’s wife I thought these were my people. I had such great respect for those seeking after God. Fifteen years later my disappointment with God’s people could not be greater. What I have seen in the intimate confidential spaces I have shared with Christians has been disheartening. Lest I fall into black and white thinking, there have been wonderful Christian clients who are truly trying to be the hands and feet of Christ. Yet now, even those who I have long respected get their snide jabs in about immigrants, poor people, people of color and members of the LBGTQIA community. When I leave work these days I feel beat up.

I am actively moving my practice toward a more expansive clientele. I am putting on my advocate hat more often, participating in a couple protests and supporting groups in my area that are working towards a more just and inclusive world. I am less afraid of wearing my pride shirts. It seems small but as a person who avoids conflict like the plague it has felt huge.

Recently I had an encounter with a client that was particularly tough. She comes from a trauma filled background and together we have walked through that trauma, and she has experienced more clarity and healing. I was dreading her coming because the last session we had was shortly after the inauguration and sitting with her as she praised Trump and what it meant for the church felt like ripping off a Band-Aid that was covering a deep wound. I was reeling in my personal life while trying to hold it together in my professional life. Because I began my practice as a counselor who offers a safe place for Christian people, my clients often make assumptions about my faith. They generally assume that because I have been a pastor’s wife I agree with them on all the issues. I understand that and I keep my own faith understanding to myself. In this recent session, the conversation was ok and things were moving along nicely, as she filled me in on things going on in her life. I had been bracing for this encounter for days and then it happened. She started sharing about a family friend whose preferred pronouns were “They/Them.” She said something to the effect that she would not be using those pronouns; she would be using “he/him” as to call yourself “they/them” is mental illness and she would not perpetuate a lie. She ranted on this subject for what seemed like an eternity. In reality it was only a couple minutes, but I felt wounded. I felt attacked, I felt hurt, and I felt unsafe. This is my office, I was safe, I was only giving her room and although there were so many things I could have challenged her on, I had no words.

I felt my face tighten and my smile drain. I focused on my body, worked at relaxing my face, slowed my breathing and manufactured a look of calm. I don’t think she noticed but I couldn’t stop my heart from racing and my stomach from churning. This would have been a great teaching moment, but I was not able to speak. What would it have been like to simply ask about her reluctance to acknowledge someone else’s pronouns. What that meant for her and what she stood to lose by simply allowing this person to describe himself in a way that felt most authentic. Maybe exploring her fear, or her anger, or whatever feeling came up. Not judging her but hearing her. As I write these questions, I realize how hard it is to do this. To stay curious. Maybe it was best to sit in the silence and attend to myself.

After a few moments of self-soothing I was able to regain my composure, remind myself I was safe and focus on the rest of the session. This was only a sidebar conversation for her. It was not what she had come to talk about when she scheduled. Her anxiety around an upcoming event was what we returned to. I rallied and helped her remember some of the coping strategies we had worked on before.

I still want to be able to respect others with differing beliefs. It did not used to be this hard to do. I talked to my counselor about it and she helped me to parse it out and it comes down to unkindness. I have had many conversations with Christian people who are confused by what they hear in church about the LBGTQIA community and the people they personally know. They want to follow God and do what they believe God wants them to do. It still hurts but they are earnestly doing the work to wrestle with this. I can ask the curious questions of them and help them explore their thoughts and feelings.

But how do I respect different beliefs that are so disrespectful? What does it cost to refer to another human being in the way they prefer? Many languages around the globe have gender neutral pronouns. It is not the fault of our trans brothers and sisters that our language does not.

In the past I thought of Christian people as kind, compassionate, and loving. Now unfortunately they often seem quite the opposite. Christianity is not cruel. Jesus was not mean hearted. These are hard times. Resistance to this administration can be as simple as addressing people in the way they choose to be addressed. Kindness is resistance.

Annie King (she/her)

You can get your own pronoun pin through The Human Rights Campaign Store

https://shop.hrc.org/accessories/my-pronouns-are-lapel-pin.html