Andrea Montalvo was one of nine Peruvian students who crowded into a small hospital room in January to hear Chicago School student Melissa Peterson describe the work she does with pregnant and postpartum immigrant women battling depression. By the next day, she had switched gears and was sitting in another room at another hospital, learning how psychology is used to treat trauma in the emergency room.
Under the leadership of its seventh president, The Chicago School grew from a small institution with a single doctoral program to the world’s leading graduate school devoted exclusively to psychology and the related behavioral sciences.
In a land where trauma has often defined everyday existence, a new project is taking shape and bringing hope and healing to survivors. The Global HOPE Training Initiative—HOPE stands for Healing Opportunities through Purposeful Engagement—calls upon the expertise of Chicago School faculty to train teachers strategies and skills that can be used in the assessment, prevention, and treatment of trauma.
Los Angeles is home to the largest homeless veteran population in the country: men and some women who live in cardboard boxes; sleep under bridges; or in best-case scenarios, find shelter and support in one of the residential centers set up for their care. Their mental health needs are many: psychotherapy to dispel the nightmares and flashbacks that continue to haunt them, professional help in overcoming decades of substance abuse, and assistance in re-establishing fractured relationships.
The signature on Krishna Chari’s email reads, “RATIFY the Convention on the Rights of the Child (CRC).” Chari is pursuing a doctoral degree in clinical psychology and is one of many students who feels passionately about a recent initiative at The Chicago School.
After five months of online interactions, the first cohort of The Chicago School’s new Ph.D. in International Psychology and Organizational Leadership online-blended programs met in person during an on-campus residency held Feb. 5-7, 2010.
At a time when budget cuts to Chicago’s mental health services have left thousands without access to critical psychological services, The Chicago School has partnered with the Community Mental Health Council, Inc. (CMHC) to provide at least 3,200 hours of treatment to those in need.
The Chicago School’s internationalization efforts received a recent boost when the International Council of Psychologists (ICP) chose TCSPP as the location of its home office and secretariat. The partnership is expected to strengthen universal ties with psychologists around the world and increase global opportunities for faculty and students.
I arrived at The Chicago School of Professional Psychology 10 years ago with a charge from the Board of Trustees to take our mission and approach to psychology education to new frontiers and to connect to more students and communities. Every day since then I’ve joined you and others in advancing this vision. Along the way we never stopped in our cause to make The Chicago School of Professional Psychology a preeminent and nationally recognized graduate school.
Since 1993 when the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy became law, it has dictated the way in which gay and lesbian military personnel have been identified and treated. Although U.S. Defense Secretary Robert Gates recently announced the easing of DADT restrictions, the psychological impact that has been experienced by servicemen and women—gay, straight, and transgendered—remains. To discuss this issue and its effect on the military and those serving, we gathered four Chicago School faculty.
The topic of veterans is an acutely personal one for me. My brother and I followed each other in our tours of duty in Vietnam. Though we both were disabled during our service, Tom, now deceased, suffered far greater harm. My disability was mostly physical, while Tom’s cut to the heart of how he perceived himself as a person, and cast an ever-present shadow over his remaining years.
John Fowler (M.A. ’09) needed to find a job. With graduation looming, he turned to social networking sites like LinkedIn and Twitter in search of a career consulting position that would put his master’s degree in Industrial and Organizational Psychology to good use.
When the space shuttle Columbia was destroyed during its re-entry to the Earth’s atmosphere in 2003, Lt. Col. Tracy Dillinger (Psy.D. ’94) was one of a team of expert astronauts, physicists, military officers, and psychologists called together to investigate the cause.
Paul A. Dillon was 25, a young husband and new father, armed with two college degrees and a promising future, when he was forced to come face to face with his own mortality. He was not alone, but that didn’t make it easier. The year was 1970. The place was South Vietnam. Four decades later, Mr. Dillon sits on The Chicago School Board of Trustees, one of the institution’s strongest proponents of using the power and the potential of psychology to support the millions of troops and veterans who came before and after him.
Long misunderstood, too often ignored, and repeatedly misdiagnosed, it has gone by a multitude of names. World War II veterans struggled with the symptoms of “battle fatigue,” while their fathers and uncles spoke in whispers of “shell shock,” the mysterious malady that for many defined the months—even years—following the First World War. And five decades before, men in Confederate grey and Union blue returned from the bloodiest war in American history, forever burdened with memories of death and devastation, an enigmatic syndrome that became known as “soldier’s heart.” It was not until the Vietnam War that post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) began gaining recognition as the real and debilitating affliction it is.
Nine-year-old Micah wasn’t ready to talk about what he was feeling. But the cardboard tank he fashioned out of paper towel tubes, broken boxes, and egg cartons spoke volumes about what was on his mind. Micah is a participant in the Home Again program, which helps children cope after a parent returns from war.
For those who get the news, it’s a moment of profound tragedy, one that will change their lives forever. And for those charged with delivering the message, it is usually “the worst duty they have ever been assigned.”
Notifying the next of kin of a military death.
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Pre-Deployment
Infants | Fussy, changes in eating habits
Preschoolers | Confused, sad
School-age | Sad, angry, anxious
Adolescents | Withdrawn, deny feelings about pending separation
Deployment
Infants | No research
Preschoolers | Sad, tantrums, changes in eating habits, symptoms of separation anxiety
School-age | Increased somatic complaints, mood changes, decline in school performance
Adolescents | Angry, aloof, apathetic, acting out, loss of interest in normal activities, decline in school performance
Post-Deployment
Infants | May not recognize or be fearful of returning parent
Preschoolers | Happy and excited, but also experience anger at separation
School-age | Happy and angry, often leading to acting-out behaviors
Adolescents …
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If you provide client support:
• Establish a method to determine a patient’s military affiliation.
• Learn about the medical benefits and other services offered through Veterans Administration.
• Provide military-specific literature on health resources, supports, and helping agencies in the local area.
If you provide client care:
• Use appropriate communication strategies to determine if the patient has been in a combat zone.
• Understand the military has a language all its own.
• Be aware of community mental health resources and be prepared to refer patients if needed.
• Educate staff on traumatic brain injury, combat …
Susanne Francis-Thornton (Psy.D. ’03) took the helm as The Chicago School of Professional Psychology Alumni Council Chair. Dr. Francis-Thornton is the executive director of the Cornerstone Counseling Centers of Chicago (CCCOC) and has served as adjunct professor in the Clinical and Forensic Psychology departments since 2003. She replaces Elizabeth “Scottie” Girouard (M.A. ’03), who served as the Alumni Council Chair for three years.
