Intake with 11yo HG

I’m not sure what the wizard version of HIPAA is, but I do know you can identify my first client without seeing her name spelled out. I hope, and think, a lot of readers will be excited to find out that the future “brightest witch of her age” is our first of many wizards on the couch.

Data

I decided the best thing to do would be to start at the beginning. I pulled my giant illustrated copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone off the shelf and flipped it open at random. I began reading, and for a moment I wanted to change passages. We’re only at the train scene? I’ll have nothing to work with!

But then, like she always does, our girl came in to save the day.

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep. ‘Are you sure that’s a real spell?’ said the girl. ‘Well, it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft and wizardry there is, I’ve heard – I’ve learnt all our set of books off by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough – I’m HG, by the way, who are you?’ {Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, Chapter Six: The Journey From Platform Nine and Three-Quarters}

Assessment

I don’t know how or why I never realized this before, but I have had almost this exact intake session several times over with girls of this age. Rapid fire autobiographical facts, asking questions without pausing to hear answers. And I know I said I wouldn’t be diagnosing any wizards, and I won’t, but I will say that none of those clients were neurotypical. I don’t want to project previous clients onto a new one, but I am excited about the invitation to keep my mind open to possibilities.

I’ve never been a “let me stop you there” type of therapist and I don’t intend to start now. I know how hurtful that can be, and I don’t want to break trust before I’ve even earned it. It’s clear my client’s immediate need is to be heard. She has a lot to say because she has a lot caught inside her mind. Either that, or she’s learned over the past eleven years that there are certain things she’s expected to say when trying to make friends, and she’s checking off the list. Or, she’s just nervous.

So, yes, I’m going to let her say all this. (Even though I don’t really believe she tried spells at home before coming to Hogwarts. We all know about the trace on underage wizards. But there’s no need for me to call her out – she’s allowed to lie to her therapist. It might even be a defense strategy! Not a recommended one, but – valid! Once she trusts me, and trusts herself, I hope she’ll realize it’s not necessary.) I’ll leave space for her to speak uninterrupted – maybe even indicate it’s okay to continue with an expectant pause, a modeled deep breath, or a small, conspiratorial smile.

Of course, she does continue when given the chance.

‘Goodness, didn’t you know, I’d have found out everything I could if it was me,’ said H. ‘Do either of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad… Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.’ {Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, Chapter Six: The Journey From Platform Nine and Three-Quarters}

Response

Already, I am noticing this pattern of latching onto labels and categories. I’m also picking up on “good” and “bad” qualifiers for most of these labels, either implied, or straight up announced.

Hogwarts is “the very best” and Gryffindor is “by far the best” and the spell is “not very good, is it?” and she just hopes that learning all her textbooks by heart “will be enough.” And I’m just like, ma’am, for whom?

There’s nothing inherently wrong with labeling and categorizing – especially since she’s only eleven. Who doesn’t want things to be simple when you’re eleven? But I wonder if she’s even fully aware of it. Does she really value Gryffindor as the best house, or is that coming from someone else? I want to ask her some clarifying questions, but not all at once. She already appears to be overwhelmed, and I sense she’s someone who is slow to trust (so great that she’s beginning therapy so young!). She probably won’t respond well to being pushed just yet. Not to mention, she’s so deep in external-processing mode, she may hardly hear or understand my questions at all.

So, I might nudge her gently towards awareness of these patterns with a question like, “Do you think it’s enough?”

When carefully said in a tone of voice that isn’t accusatory, ironic, or condescending, this question could be just enough to derail her. But in a helpful and productive way, of course, because unlike the Hogwarts Express, this train is going nowhere.

It’s important for me to meet my client where she is, and live in her world. I think spending my whole life reading and feeding my imagination has helped me do this well. If she feels like I’m asking because a. I really don’t know the answer (I don’t) and b. I really want her opinion (I do), it might just be the lifeline that can pull her out of this apparent thought spiral.

Where many others might see a bossy know-it-all, I see a girl panicking at the thought of losing grip on her locus of control. New school, new subjects, new entire world. This girl just found out she’s freaking magical and is wearing a cool facial expression and, let’s be honest, throwing shade. I’m going to go ahead and steal one of my favorite things my own therapist does and respond to this rant with, “Mmm, this is all very important stuff.” Because she is acting as though she has no idea that it is.

Plan

My priority with this bright witch will be to help her internalize that sense of control again. Since I’m meeting her for the first time, I have no way of really knowing if she was already presenting this way during earlier childhood, or if the full life upheaval she experienced by receiving a Hogwarts letter triggered something.

Since I know she will appreciate homework, I’m going to suggest my client try keeping a journal. The objectives of this journal are twofold: one, to keep her occupied so she doesn’t end up doing her classmates’ homework, and two, to help her focus on herself and on her own values. I’ll ask her to try to write gratitude statements, things she likes about herself, things she did that made her really proud. I want her to get used to this idea: the things she cares about are valid. She doesn’t need to impress, accommodate, or please anyone besides herself.

I can even get her started with some ideas. Sneakily, that is. I’ll make a point to end every session by highlighting at least one great thing I noticed that she probably didn’t see as a big deal. Today, I have a few.

“You must be proud of all of the work you’ve accomplished in such a short time. Sounds like you have done everything in your power to prepare! Also, this new friend must be so grateful that you helped him look for his pet. That was kind of you to show initiative and commitment.”

And hey, HG – yes, it’s enough. You’re always enough.

---

A note: Not every wizard has the resources to get themselves to therapy. If you need help, check out The Loveland Foundation or Indian Country ECHO, and follow @decolonizingtherapy. If you are able, please consider donating to one of these organizations.