Becoming an activist as a school counselor

Growing up I knew I wanted to help people. I never felt the presence of my school counselors, not because they were non-existent, but because I genuinely didn't know where their office was or who they were. They never visited my classrooms nor did they introduced themselves at orientations, and if they did, I must have forgotten about them and they must have forgotten about me and countless others on their caseload.

I never understood why they didn't meet students like me. Was it because I was a goodie-two-shoes "straight A" student who didn't need much help or discipline as my other peers? They only called those who suffered from bad grades and attitude into the counseling office, but not me.

When I did see them in high school, it was only because I needed them for my class schedules. Where were they when the “over-achievers” were genuinely struggling with mental health? Did they not know that the same students who were faring well in terms of their academics were also taking their life? They were useless I thought, they didn’t do anything to contribute to the education system.

Although I know this isn't the case today, and most counselors try to meet the needs of students regardless of whether they are struggling or not, I vowed to become one. Why? Because I wanted to be the counselor I wished I had growing up.

I wanted to be the counselor who'd get out of my office and give kids high fives, to let them know that I exist, and if they ever need someone to talk to, I'm there.

Maybe it’s because this career path hits home for me. I had friends who also fared well in terms of academics and seemed like we “didn’t have a problem” but they too had demons they had to face.

I remember my senior year of high school. I was struggling to keep up with my honorary streak, the drama between my group of friends, family, and an ill parent. It was then that I had my first emotional breakdown in front of friends.

In front of anyone.

I didn’t seek counseling, my teachers and counselors didn’t suspect a thing.

Soon I was having friends who were also breaking down, one friend, in particular, disclosed to me that she had been dealing with trauma and fear. When I asked her if she had told an adult or counselor about her situation, she told me she didn’t trust our school counselors. She also feared her parent’s life as her bullies threatened to hurt them.

I made my resolve.

I wanted to see every student in my office and "check-in" regardless of their physical, mental, or academic state. I wanted to be the counselor students could trust, the same counselor a friend of mine wished she could trust when she was battling with trauma, pain, grief, thoughts of self-harm, and anxiety.

I wanted to be an advocate for the oppressed. I wanted to advocate for the wellbeing of every student like me who suffered from anxieties, depression, self-doubt, and academic pressure. So I walked down the path of activism by declaring school counseling as my college major.

The road to becoming a school counselor was not easy. The more I learned about my desired career the more determined I was to do better in this field. As a counselor, you wear many hats for your students. You are a mentor, instilling knowledge and skills you hope they’d be able to use when they are out in the real world. You are a second parent as they are under your school’s care for the most part of their early life, but most important of all, you are an activist, an advocate for ALL your students regardless of their gender identity, race, skin color, social status, quirks, or mental state of mind.

Today we face the same issue of racism our ancestors faced and continue to face throughout history. I was fortunate enough to not experience the depth of prejudice and racism of my peers of color and I know I can’t change history or what my privileged peers have done both consciously and unconsciously. I know I can’t change the fact that I was incompetent for my inaction in the past. I know I can’t fully understand the depth of pain for the injustice done to our friends of color, but activism is not about how long you’ve been standing up for a cause.

Activism is not about being unbiased or educated from the beginning. Activism isn't about starting protests and collective movements on social media. Activism is recognizing that there is a problem, acknowledging the fact that you were initially unaware or ignorant towards an issue, educating yourself, and taking the first step to advocate for a cause, belief, change, or dream you now believe in.

Activism is sharing your God-given talents as you make a difference in people's lives. Activism is moving from periods of inaction to taking thoughtful steps towards change. Activism is peacefully fighting for a cause. Activism is honoring those who were lost and protecting those who are oppressed by the injustice of society or a selected few. Activism is genuinely caring for a cause not because it is relevant and of benefit to your image.

Activism is not about jumping into a “trend” because everyone else is doing it. Activism is knowing that your voice is powerful and just as influential as a crowd gathered for a cause. Activism is knowing that your actions speak louder than words.

Activism is continuously advocating for a cause regardless of its relevance or media coverage. It’s not enough to simply say that you stand by the Black Lives Matters Movement, post on social media, and join protests, but taking any of these inspired actions is better than not doing anything at all.

What can you do now to contribute to this monumental movement in history? I do hope that you use your God-given talents as an activist just as I am using my gift of writing to educate, advocate, and inspire others to take action. The bible verse Romans 12:6-7 sums it off quite perfectly, use these talents to advocate for love and peace.