CHARLIE

     I went "back to school" yesterday.  More precisely, I attended the first session of a multi-week course that will lead to my being credentialed as a "Licensed Professional Counselor-Supervisor".
During the almost twenty years that I have been an LPC, I have informally supervised several Interns and Residents. . . but lacked the official 'credential'.  It has been several years since I was a 'student' in any kind of formal manner.  I like to think that I am constantly seeking to learn and to understand more and am a 'student of life' in that regard. When I was a youth, my dad frequently said, "Son, you ask more questions than a Philadelphia lawyer."  Never did understand the 'Philadelphia lawyer' reference; but did know that one of the ways to learn is by asking questions, hopefully, good  questions.

    Sometime back I wrote a blog, asking "Whose  Shoulders Do 
You Stand On?"  Well, in preparing for yesterday's class session, I was reminded of a particular set of shoulders that have greatly aided my understanding and practice of being a therapist.  When I began my Residency in 1990, Charlie Wilson was my initial supervisor.  Already something of a legend around our Center as the OWO ("Old Wise One"), he was not 'old' chronologically . (Actually, he probably has had a couple of birthdays fewer than I.) 
But he was the perfect fit for the needs that I brought into my training.

    Charlie often regaled the staff and Residents with stories from his seemingly unending treasure trove.  And, I have never heard anyone offer a more plaintive rendition of the old song, "In the Pines".  At one particularly critical juncture, he served as Interim Director of our Center, but I always sensed that he preferred to think of himself primarily as a Therapist and Teacher.

    Early in the program, when Residents' anxiety was understandably 'out the roof', he sought to buffer some of that with this pearl of wisdom: "Your first task as a counselor is to know that you can get into and out of a counseling session alive."  Once, in Group Supervision session, someone asked Charlie what his intervention would have been in a certain situation.  I have long since forgotten the intervention because his preface was so powerful: "Well, on a good day, I think I would ...".  It registered with me that despite my best efforts, intentions, intelligence, etc., some days perhaps would not be  good days.  Talk about freeing!

    Recently, I came across an article from a now-forgotten publication wherein Charlie was discussing his understanding and philosophy of supervision with several colleagues.  When I was training, I was unaware of the article, but I certainly experienced those principles.  Among them: "Supervisory relationships should have a high degree of  mutuality and collegiality to function properly."  Charlie was 'authoritative' but not 'authoritarian'.  He noted his "zeal" in sharing what had meant so much to him.

     Being something of an 'archivist' (others might say 'packrat'), I tend to retain materials that I think might have future value.  So, this morning, I located a notebook of documents from my Residency program and found a Supervisor's Report that Charlie wrote on my behalf to a credentialing body. I remembered again why and how the professional relationship with him had been of such encouragement and why even now after not having seen him in several years, I still often quote him to clients and to those Interns and Residents whom I supervise.  Among the kind things that he wrote, " In short, I have more confidence in him than he has for himself at times."

    Charlie retired several years ago, largely for health reasons.  My office now is the one he occupied for many years.  Often I look at  one particular spot in the room and remember occupying that space frequently  as Charlie patiently sought to help my growth as a professional counselor.  So it is with a renewed sense of appreciation that yesterday's first class helped me remember that I stand on strong shoulders that helped me see 'further down the road' of counseling than I could have seen on my own.
   Thanks, Charlie.

       Satchel