Want a therapist who relates to your cultural background? That may be hard in Idaho
Angie Hernandez-Harris and Donnie Harris wanted to make sure that someday their children would be able to access mental health care from professionals who looked like them.
The couple has a mixed-race family. Hernandez-Harris’ daughter is Samoan, and Harris’ daughter is Black.
“It is really hard to find a Black therapist here in this community,” Hernandez-Harris said in an interview. “It is even harder to find a Samoan therapist. I think there are some more therapists now than a couple years ago, which is amazing.”
“But it still doesn’t meet the needs of brown, Black, Indigenous, LGBTQ people,” Harris added.
That is why this year, the couple launched Hernandez Harris Counseling and Consulting, a Boise mental health services agency that focuses on care that is culturally relevant to Black, Latino, Indigenous and LGBTQ individuals and families.
Hernandez-Harris is a licensed clinical professional counselor and an EMDR, or eye-movement desensitization and reprocessing therapist. EMDR is a psychotherapy treatment that helps patients process traumatic memories and alleviate the stress those memories bring.
Harris is a licensed clinical social worker and certified alcohol/drug counselor and supervisor.
“People of different nationalities and cultural backgrounds find that sometimes being served by white clinicians, their specific needs aren’t easily met and they may not be connected to the resources they need, because the therapist doesn’t have their cultural background,” Harris said.
A push for culturally inclusive mental health care
The couple are among a group of mental health professionals who, in recent years, have been pushing for more culturally inclusive mental health care.
A 2018 study published in the Journal of Clinical Psychology found that “mental health treatments can be more effective when they align with the culture of the client and when therapists demonstrate multicultural competence.”
Melody Li is the founder of Inclusive Therapists, a network of culturally responsive, social justice-oriented therapists. Li launched the organization in 2019 after years of owning a private therapy practice in Austin, Texas.
Li, who is east Asian, noticed how white-dominated the industry was and often heard from clients and therapists who wanted to build a trusted community.
“The first part of healing is to be understood and be accepted,” Li said by phone. “To enter into a therapeutic space already requires a lot of courage. Interacting with medical professionals can feel daunting, and it can be difficult to share traumatic experiences. If (the therapist) already has a foundation to understand systemic oppression, that can be the best place to start.”
People of color experience racism, oppression and inequity, Li said. Having a therapist who understands those experiences is important to people, “so they don’t have to explain what it is like to go through life in their body.”
According to the American Psychological Association, in 2015, 86% of psychologists were white, 5% were Asian, 5% were Hispanic, 4% were Black and 1% were multiracial. That is substantially whiter than the U.S., according to the Census Bureau.
In 2020, about 61% of the country was white, 12% Black, 1% American Indian and Alaska Native, 6% Asian, 8% “some other race,” and 10% two or more races. The Census doesn’t treat Hispanics as a race because the term can apply to people of multiple races, but when it asked in a separate question if people identify as Hispanic, 18.2% of respondents said yes.
In a state like Idaho, which is 90% white, it can be even harder for people of color to find a therapist who looks like them and shares their cultural background.
“If you are white, it is easier for you to feel safe,” Hernandez-Harris said. “You can go and you can find a white therapist and you don’t have to worry about what their background is. But it is different if you are a person of color or if you are marginalized.”
Hernandez-Harris also offers therapy services in Spanish.
“I get emails all the time from people needing a bilingual, bicultural therapist,” Hernandez-Harris said. “That is why folks seek me out.”
She is also a consultant and registered supervisor in Idaho, meaning she helps other therapists grow their practices and offers supervision to practicing therapists.
“There is so much in language, and language does matter,” Hernandez-Harris said. “Language, especially in a trauma-informed space, really matters. Of course you can see a white therapist, there is nothing wrong with that, but if you can feel even that much more welcome in a space, that is integral to therapy. Rapport is so important in therapy. If I don’t connect with my therapist, that is a really big missing piece.”
The couple brings knowledge of racism, trauma
Into their practice, Hernandez-Harris and Harris bring their life experiences and knowledge of racism and oppression.
Hernandez-Harris is a biracial Latina who moved between Mexico and Idaho growing up. Her immigrant father came to Los Angeles from Guadalajara, Jalisco. Her parents met in a kitchen in Los Angeles, but her dad spoke mostly Spanish and her mother, who is white, didn’t speak Spanish at all. Their first date was to Disneyland with an English-Spanish Dictionary, Hernandez-Harris said.
Hernandez-Harris’ father died in a car accident, leaving her mother to support the family alone. Hernandez-Harris said her mother made sure her children visited their father’s family in Mexico and learned Spanish. She has a deep spiritual connection to her dad, she said.
Early on, Hernandez-Harris knew she was good at helping people.
“I settled in with a counseling program,” she said. “In a way I feel called, and I keep getting called, to do this work. I feel like this feels good to me, to share lived experience and wisdom and through my clients, to learn their stories. The resilience and courage people have — it makes it humbling to do this work. “
Harris was born in California and grew up in Georgia. Being a Black man from the South, Harris said he knows firsthand about the traumas Black families faced and continue to face throughout the country.
“You learn to cope and adjust,” Harris said. He decided to become a practical nurse.
“I paid attention to the fact that people were getting hurt and that has become a part of who I am,” he said.
This story was originally published November 16, 2021 at 4:00 AM.
