This post is a part of the series, “CARED Perspectives,” developed by the APAGS Committee for the Advancement of Racial and Ethnic Diversity (CARED). This series discusses current events and how these events relate to graduate students in psychology. If you are interested in contributing to the CARED Perspectives series, please contact Terrill Taylor, Chair of APAGS-CARED.
By Sonia Rehman
There is no doubt that the pandemic wreaked havoc on human lives. However, it connected us in numerous ways as well. The modified lifestyle due to COVID-19 offered me new ways to conduct my personal and professional life. I consider myself the beneficiary of the new virtual world, and here’s my story.
As the world turned toward holding virtual rather than in-person events, it enabled me to attend numerous national and international conferences, without incurring traveling and lodging costs. It also allowed several of my colleagues from Pakistan and India to participate in conferences in the US for the first time. Securing a visa to visit the US has been a significant challenge for students in developing countries, so virtual conferences made it possible for anyone around the world to become a part of this learning experience with reduced registration fees and no need for a visa. During networking events, international participants shared their perspectives on advancements made in the field and discussed opportunities for collaboration. The emerging prospect of in-person conferences made me wonder about what might result in limited accessibility for these events. I believe our field can benefit from remaining accessible, especially as increased migration and telecommunication advancements continue to change the biopsychosocial aspects of human lives.
There is an increased opportunity to learn from one another in this new digitized world. For example, the new norm of connecting virtually allowed me to have a mentor in Spain. With her help, I look forward to getting involved in international collaborations to advance my understanding of neuropsychology through a cross-cultural lens. At the beginning of my doctoral program, I was interested in exploring psychological issues for minority adolescents and joined a research lab accordingly. As I progressed through the program, I became more interested in neuropsychology and wanted to engage in research in that area. However, my options were limited, and a break appeared imminent.
As many labs resorted to working virtually due to the pandemic, it opened opportunities to get involved remotely. I applied to and became a part of a lab that operates in northern California even while I live near Washington, DC. The accessibility of this kind of remote opportunity has been a great asset for many students and continues to connect scholars worldwide.
Receiving training in teleassessment is another benefit of the increasingly virtual world. Providing psychological interventions remotely has enabled many minority patients to seek services who may have otherwise been unable to travel the distance to clinics. . Telehealth has also increased access to medical and mental health care for families living in rural areas. I am especially thrilled at the prospect of increasing the scope of neuropsychology through telemedicine. Finally, taking online classes has enabled me to attend to my children’s needs and coordinate my parents’ medical appointments, all while actively pursuing my dream of becoming a clinical neuropsychologist.
This post is a part of the series, “CARED Perspectives,” developed by the APAGS Committee for the Advancement of Racial and Ethnic Diversity (CARED). This series discusses current events and how these events relate to graduate students in psychology. If you are interested in contributing to the CARED Perspectives series, please contact Terrill Taylor, Chair of APAGS-CARED.
By Asia Perkins, Georgina Rosenbrock, and Sonia Rehman
We are swiftly approaching the anniversary marking two years of sheltering at home. At the outset of the coronavirus pandemic, it appeared that we were all in this together, that the virus was an equal opportunity offender, and that in a relatively short period of time, things would go back to normal. However, one thing that has been made clear since then is that our communities of color and other marginalized populations are disproportionately affected by this public health crisis. Specifically, members in our Black and African American, Latine, Indigenous Peoples, and Criminal and Juvenile Justice communities have been placed at higher risk for exposure to coronavirus due to lower rates of educational attainment, income, healthcare coverage, and the ability to consistently maintain social distance. For our students from underserved communities, we also witnessed a disproportionate impact on the quality of their virtual education compared to students from more privileged backgrounds (e.g., White, higher socioeconomic status, heterosexual, cisgender). Overall, pre-existing disparities across multiple domains have been, at best, highlighted, and, at worst, exacerbated by this pandemic.
It is no secret that there is a long history of medical mistreatment, abuse, and torture against marginalized communities, especially against Black, Indigenous, and Latine populations (e.g., Tuskegee Syphilis Study, forced sterilization, lack of anesthesia during surgeries and experimentation). As a result of this pattern of cruelty, infrahumanization, and dehumanization, many individuals who identify as racially or ethnically minoritized have been understandably hesitant to receive the COVID-19 vaccine. However, since the death rate for COVID-19 is highest among communities of color due to numerous systemic factors, this vaccine hesitancy has been particularly concerning. Individuals who did choose to seek out the vaccine faced their own series of challenges. Across the country, the COVID-19 vaccine has been disproportionately distributed to White communities. Additionally, we have observed a disturbing trend of wealthy, White individuals using their money and power to secure vaccine doses that were originally meant for poor communities and communities of color. These trends placed additional pressure and stress on graduate students of color as we watched our communities fight for health equity and struggle to place trust in a system that has consistently mistreated us.
The issues surrounding students are further intensified when it comes to international students in the U.S. For example, the impact of the U.S. government’s executive orders restricting travel from several countries in 2017 was widespread. A recent study showed that international students had to change their travel plans for conferences and visiting families. It also perpetuated fears about their ability to secure jobs after graduation to legally remain in the U.S. (Todoran et al., 2020). International students were experiencing similar fears during COVID-19 pandemic, including worries about maintaining visa status during virtual learning, graduating on time, and finding opportunities to secure optional practical training (OPT) after graduation. In addition, increased loneliness has also impacted these students. Research shows that loneliness affects individuals’ feelings of happiness, cognitive functioning, and physical health (Yeh, 2017). From early 2020, international students experienced isolation from family and friends with decreased opportunities to work on campus and increased expenses due to longer stays in the U.S. While many campuses have reopened for the fall semester of 2021, it is imperative to continue providing guidelines to individuals about the ways to enhance social connections to prevent loneliness.
Much like the communities we serve and reside in, graduate students from marginalized backgrounds have also been disproportionately impacted during the pandemic. The unexpected nature of this pandemic has brought additional costs for technology, housing, and training. Combined with increasingly limited opportunities for university funding and lost wages from off-campus employment sources, our low-income students have perhaps suffered the most when acclimating to this “new normal.” Many of us also lost access to systems of support that promoted our overall well-being, resulting in heightened depression, anxiety, stress, grief, and trauma. Taken altogether, these experiences have called for institutions to better support marginalized students’ emotional, health, and financial needs so they can continue to meet the challenges of pursuing graduate degrees while maintaining their health and well-being.
Overall, these past two years have been incredibly tough and stressful for many of us. While it is unlikely that 2022 will provide all of the solutions for our struggles, we hope that it will offer some moments of peace and healing through self-care, connecting with your community, and structural change.
Nuriddin, A., Mooney, G., & White, A. I. (2020). Reckoning with histories of medical racism and violence in the USA. The Lancet, 396(10256), 949-951.
Todoran, C., & Peterson, C. (2020). Should They Stay or Should They Go? How the 2017 U.S. Travel Ban Affects International Doctoral Students. Journal of Studies in International Education, 24(4), 440–455. https://doi.org/10.1177/1028315319861344
Our COVID-19 anniversary has come and gone. What exactly did we all endure? I am sure there has been an array of thoughts and emotions. As students…
We navigated a new world. We cradled our pets. We watered our plants. We sat in virtual meetings. We started a new hobby. We tended to our families. And maybe we lost motivation along the way.
We received our diplomas through a screen. We cheered while reviewing acceptance letters. We had dived into our research. We passed our competency exams. We defended our dissertations. We matched. We got our dream post-doc job. Or maybe we grieved because… we didn’t.
We welcomed new agendas on the horizon. We felt a sense of self. Maybe we lost our identity and faith in the world.
We shared disappointment as well as delight. We divided. We bound. We were strong. We were tired.
It has been a tough year, and I simply want to acknowledge what you have encountered as a graduate student. Your lives are dynamic and beautiful.
With that said, I validate the feelings that you are having. I honor your story and experiences. I encourage you to find safe supports with whom to share your triumphs and pain. I invite you to embrace the present moment and breathe. I stand with you precisely as you are.
Finally, I would like to remind you that: You are capable. You are loved. You are enough. …That is all.
The COVID-19 pandemic has impacted all of us differently. While it’s not easy or fair to compare who was affected the most, staying away from home and family has been incredibly hard on international students. I have stayed indoors for the past three months and have experienced overwhelming emotions regarding personal loss and professional uncertainty.
Away from Home
My home country India is fighting COVID in a manner that is very different from United States. I share this concern with many of my Indian friends that to be safe in India largely depends on the action of our own family members. The government machinery is under immense pressure and has not been able to respond to the rising public needs in the wake of the pandemic. Every day I would hear new challenges from my family back home – from grocery stores running out of basic food items to people unsuccessfully lining up for hours to get the government sanctioned ration; from overcrowded hospitals to healthcare workers getting infected in the absence of adequate Personal Protection Equipment (PPE). In this atmosphere, it’s unsettling and emotionally draining to imagine how my parents would manage if something were to happen to them. In times of crisis it is natural to stay with one’s family. Not knowing whether and when I would be able to see them again adds an additional layer of sadness and helplessness.
Losing Loved Ones
COVID19 has
brought incessant personal losses for me. This has made me reflect on how I
process the plethora of complex emotions that loss brings. It all started with
my mother calling me one day to inform that my grandfather has been diagnosed
with prostate cancer and only has a few days left. It is largely my mother who takes
care of her father and her father in law. Every day, she would feed my paternal
grandfather in the morning and then visit her father at the other end of the
city in the afternoon. When a lockdown was announced, she had to stop this
commute. It was painful to listen to a daughter’s grief of not being able to
meet her dying father in his last few days.
At the same time, my husband lost both of his grandparents to health challenges in India. He had just moved to the Unites States and this news was a shock for him. I wasn’t sure what kind of support I could offer him. He clearly wanted to be back home with his family and mourn with them. Almost simultaneously, our close friend and flat mate, a Chilean, discovered that his mother fractured her leg from a fall and that his father has cancer. He rushed to book his flight home to Chile. It was bittersweet that he got to be with his father in his last days; he passed away after a week. It was not just humans, one of our dogs who I admired for her resilience throughout my life, also died during this time back in India.
Perhaps being so far away from home, we don’t feel the full force of our emotions when hearing about these tragic events. Maybe our bodies, in order to protect ourselves, grows a thick skin against such news. The only thing I look forward to now is our hopeful trip back to India in December.
The plight of Migrants
Watching news every day from India hit a new low for me. As the lock-down was announced, an estimated number of 130 million migrant workers started to walk back to their villages from big cities like Delhi and Mumbai due to a of loss of work opportunities. They were travelling distances like 1,600 kilometers on foot, often dying due to hunger and/or heat as well as being subjected to immensely undignified measures at various stops like being sprayed with disinfectants by government officials after reaching Bareilly (a city in the state of Uttar Pradesh). There was also heartwarming news about how locals and nonprofits stepped up to provide food and shelter at many places. But the overwhelming response I saw from the state and fellow Indians indicated that these migrants don’t belong to the country. It broke my heart not just to read about their unwarranted struggles but also my own helplessness that I was unable to do much for them at this time.
Coming Home: The Funding Crisis in Academia
It is not unknown that many departments and universities are facing extremely difficult situations in terms of supporting their graduate students. While this affects all students, it affects some more than the others. International students often lack both financial as well as social safety nets that can be vital during these times. In many cases, not having money simply means stopping your research and going back home. I was fortunate to have been able to navigate this situation due to a supportive program and faculty at my university. But my conversations with friends and the larger international community have highlighted the extent of mental pressure international students felt during this time. Unlike others, they cannot move in with their parents if they don’t have the stipend to pay their rent. Overall, the cost of pursuing a PhD – a 5-year long journey – in another country comes at a huge price for many of us. So uncertain situations such as the current pandemic make us question whether it’s worth pursuing this direction at all.
Change in Research Directions
Right after the pandemic lock-down was announced and the universities physically shut their laboratories earlier this year, I was a part of a meeting between faculty and graduate students. Here, the primary question the graduate students were asked was – How do you think you would change your research direction now, given that the pandemic has rendered your earlier research plans unfeasible?
I was already grappling with understanding what had just happened when I felt a flurry of emotions run through me – helplessness, lack of support, and confusion. I didn’t have an answer to this question and I strongly wished this question was not asked in the meeting in such an unsympathetic manner. I felt two things: first, the entire onus has been put on me to find a new research direction almost making the pandemic my fault; and secondly, if I was not ready with the answer in this meeting, I was not working hard enough. I look up to the faculty as mentors – people who can problem solve with me and guide me through that process, not leave me stranded alone in midst of finding answers to research directions.
At this point some burning questions were raised for me: “What is the meaning of the work I am trying to do here? Or does it have any meaning at all?”
Down the road, when I look back on my life or when I think back on this time of crisis — will there be a respectable answer to the question: So what did you do at that point?
Personally, academic prowess means little if it doesn’t solve real life problems or help people in some way. One really questions the value of a PhD if it is stuck between the pandemic, lack of funding, migrants dying of heat and hunger, change in research directions and not being with family – something that has disturbed me immensely during this time.
What Kept/Keeps me going
Victor Frankl has talked about the importance of having a purpose in life that adds meaning to it. It is similar to the existentialist Buddhist philosophy that acknowledges that everything in this world is inherently meaningless and is never stable; one has to add meaning to objects, experiences and life itself. Both these sources have helped me survive and develop my own understanding around the pandemic and its impact. Frankl states that everything can be taken from a (wo)man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms — to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.
For me, this was SwaTaleem, a nonprofit I co-founded. We work to enhance educational outcomes for young girls prone to early marriage. COVID-19 hit this community of girls in ways unimaginable for most of us. I can always come back to my research if there is a gap or disruption – it doesn’t mean the same thing for them. In communities where child marriages are high, disruption in education means never coming back to school; it means getting married. The residential schools where we work in, have been shut down and girls have been sent back home. Online education does not work in these settings. Even having a phone in a household doesn’t guarantee that a girl can access it. Being at home now, simply means a higher likelihood that the family will marry them off as a liability. In fact, a recent UN report suggests that COVID-19 will push 13 million more girls into child marriage.
The challenges that these girls face are much more serious than mine. In fact, if one looks closely at this community, they carry out negotiations each day fueled by resilience and resistance. What pride and joy it brings me to work for and with these girls. And it is simply this that has kept me going. Each day I get up, pausing my own ‘research’, and try to assemble some solutions for this complex social problem with equally committed and passionate people in India. It just gives a bigger meaning to my little pursuit of a degree, to the research I do, to the truth I seek and to my life. And I have realized that when you work for others, your problems seem small – always – and it somehow propels you to do better. Because there is a bigger driving force that makes you work harder.
Getting Perspective
Building on the previous point, I want to highlight a larger angle on getting perspective in life. When I read the news on the migrants in India, the Amphan cyclone in South East Asia (strongest in a decade), the COVID-19 affected populations in Illinois around me (the majority of whom are Blacks and Latinas) and very recently, the collective resistance in the George Floyd case – it humbles me. It gives me perspective as well as a deep sense of gratitude not just to what I have, but also to what some of my people all over the world are facing. I have food, shelter, work to do, a salary and a loving partner – this has been more than enough for me to sail through with empathy.
Support Systems
I have stayed away from my partner, now husband, for 1.5 years before he moved to the US earlier this year. During the pandemic, we were together, and it was truly a blessing. We also had a close friend of ours who stayed with us during the pandemic. Having this support system in place made so many things lighter for us to absorb as a collective. Sharing meals and conversations brought us closer but also lessened the daily impact of what each one of us was going through. Also, its encouraging how some of the faculty have taken active roles and stepped up to work in collaboration during this time to create an environment of support for us.
Hope
I will end
with Hope – one of the most important qualities that keeps us going through the
darkest times in our lives and what it means to me as an Indian international
graduate student.
I always
think of the time when one day, soon enough,
I will be able to go back to India and breathe its air and listen to the chaos on the roads;
That I will
be able to eat Chaat and Samosa and Masala Dosa;
That I will
be able to see the girls back in school and ask how school is going and what
they want to be in life?
That I will
be able to meet and talk to the teachers on cold sunny mornings in Haryana
about what we can improve in our program;
That I will
be able to discuss program strategies with the team members while planning what
to cook together in the evening (yes that’s how work happens in remote areas);
That I will
be able to see and touch and play with my dogs and hug them like I want to now;
That I’ll
be able to cycle on the busy roads of my hometown and have Chai with my
mother in the evenings.
Our life gives us few chances where we can truly change what we believe in and what we do. Maybe this is one such chance and this ‘Hope’ can help us choose the right path.
Ananya Tiwari is a doctoral student in educational psychology at the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign and the Program Coordinator for the Graduate Evaluation Diversity Internship (GEDI) program with the American Evaluation Association (AEA). She uses developmental psychology to study socio-emotional (SE) skills at the intersection of poverty and gender. Her focus areas are cross cultural measurements of SE skills, programme design, and evaluation using culturally responsive frameworks. Ananya is also the co-founder of the SwaTaleem Foundation that works with rural adolescent girls in India to enhance the educational outcomes through SE skills and human-centered design.
This post is a part of the series, “CARED Perspectives,” developed by the APAGS Committee for the Advancement of Racial and Ethnic Diversity (CARED). This series discusses current events and how these events relate to graduate students in psychology. If you are interested in contributing to the CARED Perspectives series, please contact Aleesha Young, Chair of APAGS-CARED.
By Sarah Gubara, MS
Globally, the COVID-19 pandemic has made our worlds a little smaller. With the majority of individuals confined to their homes, the chaos of the first couple of weeks has created white noise that has become increasingly overbearing. Most importantly, this pandemic has highlighted the significant disparities prevalent across our communities. While many are hunkering down in the safety of their homes with loved ones, there are other vulnerable families in our communities that are contending with economic and health disparities, food and financial insecurity, and isolation from resources and social support.
Interestingly, the economic disparities related to this pandemic are shared among some graduate students and their clients alike. During these uncertain times both practicum students and clients may be contending with lost wages, uncertainty about the future, and experiencing increased anxiety. This emotive weight on the therapeutic relationship compounds with existing challenges for marginalized clients and therapists. While many student trainees are receiving excellent supervision to process these changes, there are some that are navigating this process alone. It is at this point that a clinician’s ability, or lack thereof, in multicultural responsiveness is highlighted as the fallout of this pandemic requires higher levels of cultural insight and sensitivity, self-efficacy, and awareness of social injustices and disparities. In addition to the therapeutic adjustments we need to make, the call to mobilize services quickly to telehealth further exposes the depth of the economic divide.
While telehealth and remote education are both blessings during this time, they are also a privilege. Within weeks, graduate practicum students and their clients were privy to the sharp economic inequalities that exist. For instance, in my work with survivors of torture I was blessed to work with a responsive team that provided thorough and consistent supervision, and strategies to accommodate our clients. However, in speaking with clients I began to understand the dearth of resources that exist for them and the obstacles that remain ahead. Session after session with clients led to similar concerns that included loss of work, reduced transportation, limited community support, and so on. While my agency ensured that we were prepared to deliver services, I realized that my entire caseload may not have the resources to readily receive those services. Some of my clients share rooms with two to three other people and privacy is an issue. Other clients may not have smartphones or wi-fi to download Zoom or any other virtual meeting application. Yet others are parents who are now contending with sharing devices, teaching, and managing their child(ren) without the support of the school day structure.
Furthermore, the existing protective factors that clients often turn to, such as churches, are now no longer an option. Many of my clients are refugees and asylum seekers, some of whom are new to the community. Without the access of community gatherings like churches or local centers, clients feel isolated and untethered, particularly when language acquisition is a challenge. Given the timing of this pandemic, many practicum students are now terminating with clients as it is the end of the semester for most of us. The loss of identity, resources, and support continues to be compounded at a high cost for our most vulnerable clients.
Together, graduate practicum students and their clients are having to adjust to the challenging landscape and process its shared trauma, while simultaneously developing new coping strategies. While in some circumstances, there is no certainty at the present, let us not forget the glaring disparities that we now see and let’s do what we can to help while also taking care of ourselves. For now, we must applaud, encourage, and support the resilience, perseverance, and creativity of our clients and fellow graduate students.
Sarah Gubara, MS is a graduate of Johns Hopkins University (BA’11, MS ’17) and a practicum student at TASSC International working with survivors of state-sponsored torture in Washington, DC. She is in the final year of her combined PhD in Counseling Psychology and School Psychology at Florida State University and will be starting her APA-accredited internship with the Treehouse Child Advocacy Center in July 2020.
