I am a counselor in Joplin. I’m actually completing my provisional requirements this year in order to obtain my full state license for professional counseling. The practice, the only setting I have ever counseled and my home away from home (and a safe haven for so many who have come in for counseling) was totaled. Ironically, it was one of the few buildings for miles that remained half-standing, a corpse of the structure it once was. This town has been my home for several years, and as a kid I often came here from across the border in Oklahoma where I grew up to watch movies, eat, hang with friends, and eventually work and live. This is my home.
As a counselor, my area of concern and expertise is the heart, the soul, the unseen mental and emotional and even spiritual aspects of people that are impacted in such dramatic and sometimes unspeakable ways by an event like this. “Like this.” As if there is something else to compare it to. Miles and miles of our land has been laid flat, a wasteland. Hiroshima in the Midwest. And I have been working with many other amazing folks trying to offer help and aid to those affected. The first needs of course are the basic: shelter, food, clothing, social support — many hobbled or limped or sometimes rode away in ambulances with none of these left. Suddenly everyone became a medic, a social worker, a neighbor, a friend, a brother or sister, and at least to a few, a hero.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Counselor's new blog deals with Joplin tornado aftermath
A helpful read in the aftermath of the Joplin tornado is "Writing Out the Storm," by counselor Brian Fidler: