During the 2024 AWP conference in Kansas City, I had the honor of moderating a panel about craft, therapy, and writing about trauma with Kelly Sundberg, Ashley C. Ford, Maggie Smith, and Marcelo Hernandez Castillo. These are the introductory remarks I gave to the panel. During this special and emotional discussion, each writer brought their unique ideas and perspective to this conversation as they reflected on what helped them write about the difficult experiences of their lives and how they continue to bravely show up to the page.
Trauma is part of all of our lives. It’s in our cells. It’s in the air. At some point, all of our ancestors experienced trauma. Perhaps we have, too. We are on land marked by trauma in a country built on trauma. Before we begin, I’d like to acknowledge the indigenous people in whose ancestral homelands the conference is being held, including the Osage, Kaw, Missouria, Shawnee, and Wyandot tribes.
Let us acknowledge that active genocides are taking place in Palestine, Sudan, and Congo.
As we talk about craft, therapy, and trauma, let us recognize that to experience trauma is to experience disconnection. We write about trauma to reconnect with ourselves, with each other, with community, and with the earth. May we all write to this truth that none of us are free until all of us are free.
I’d like to share a definition of trauma from psychologist Pat Ogden: “any experience that is stressful enough to leave us feeling helpless, frightened, overwhelmed, or profoundly unsafe.” I’ve often observed how people can diminish their own experiences, denying that certain things could be considered traumatic, comparing what they’ve been through to what others have endured. But none of us get to choose what affects us deeply, what shifts our nervous systems, and our experiences of living in this world. A traumatic experience may be on an individual level, but it often exists on a larger plan of common humanity as we recognize how so many are adversely affected by systems of oppression. These events inevitably shape our lives and bring many of us to writing.
I am new to the writing world—only a few years into writing seriously and trying to publish—but I’ve been working in the mental health world for nearly 20 years as a clinical social worker and psychotherapist, so I have a lot of experience as a witness to the processing of traumatic events, an interest I’ve brought directly into my writing.
I’ve been struck by some of the similarities and the many differences between therapy work and writing work. This was a conversation that Kelly Sundberg and I had when we attended AWP in Seattle last year, which is how we began considering the ideas for this panel. We discussed how writing about complex and/or traumatic events should not be confused with therapy work and that while writing can be a healing component, this is not guaranteed. Writers should not assume that writing about traumatic events will lead to healing and resolution and, in fact, writing about such events can be particularly stressful, even re-traumatizing. Appreciating complexity, it is also essential to recognize how writing can be a vital aspect of healing for some, and approaching it in specific ways can be helpful, both artistically and psychologically.
I’ve often pictured a Venn diagram of what we see in the world of mental health and what can arise when writing about trauma and oppression. In therapy, we are not so concerned with the artfulness with which a story is told. Yet, we are quite concerned with the emotions and present-moment details of both cognitive and physiological experiences. In writing, we want our words to have meaning to others, while in therapy, the words tend to stay in that space. There are many more differences, but I also want to discuss some similarities between writing and therapy, even though we called this panel, “Writing is NOT therapy!”
In terms of overlap, structure is an important consideration. Many of the specific methods for treating trauma (EMDR, PE, CPT, and so on) all have some structural components. This helps the recipient know what to expect, helps the therapist understand how to proceed, and can help make sense of something that can feel large and uncontainable. Therapy inherently has structure in that sessions are a certain period on a particular day. Similarly, we may use structure in our writing practices and within the written pieces themselves. Structural considerations in writing can offer direction to the reader, highlight particular themes, or reveal a new vantage point. Structure in both therapy and writing can help lead to a goal in trauma healing: to make meaning out of something, to transform ourselves from victims to survivors, from those who experienced something to those who now witness what was experienced.
One last crossover point I’ll mention is that healing is a process, and it will look different for everyone throughout their lives. I want to honor this reality throughout the whole discussion. We are all different, with our unique experiences in this world. None of us are here to assert that we have the right way to do things but rather to discuss ideas. This goes for both therapy and writing. We can delve into many techniques, strategies, and ideas, and what works for one person may not work for another. May we all be honest, clear, and compassionate as we situate what works for each of us and the path that will get us there.
Thank you for reading and to all of those who attended the panel!
Love this! Really helped me understand how to describe the difference between therapy and writing about trauma!