“organization of self-related information” (p. 130). According to Blasi, the organized, self-related data are so critical that without them “the individual would see himself or herself to be radically different; those so central that one could not even imagine being deprived of them; those whose loss would be considered and felt as irreparable” (p. 131).
Part of our identity is our moral core—our notions of right and wrong. Blasi (1984) suggests that moral/ethical ideals “are powerless if they are not rooted in a moral self” (p. 130). He also suggests one’s moral identity fuels (or is the moral/ethical motivation for) one’s moral/ethical action. To move from “powerless” to powerful or ethically excellent, we start with exploring and discovering your core—your essential moral self.
In our experience, the opportunity to uncover, explore, and articulate what resides in their core makes our students more able to think about how they fit with the profession, what it means to be part of the profession, and, consequently, how best to serve their clients, patients, students, consultees, and the broader society. We understand that you might be anxious to skip this part of your experience on the staircase—“Let’s just get to the good stuff!”—but these steps provide a critical root for growing your professional/ethical identity.
Developing a professional/ethical identity takes effort. We’ve discovered students typically fall into one of the following groups: Some students have never really considered some of the deeper levels of their identities. If they have done some good thinking, they haven’t really articulated their thoughts. Others can articulate what’s there, but they haven’t stopped to assess what is fundamental, missing, or problematic in their core. The last group includes those who haven’t explored the relationship between their core (central, non-negotiable) identity and its relationship to their developing professional identity.
Your awareness of your core, moral self provides the foundation for your professional identity—including your motivations, needs, values, and social identities. Knowledge of your core self helps you traverse the spiral staircase—to think about your relationship to the profession, to sustain your professional ethical identity for the long term, and to practice positive ethics. Thus, the foundation of a healthy and solid professional identity begins with understanding what’s in your core. Let’s start, or continue, your exploration with some reflecting.
Food for Thought: Who Are You?
Take a few minutes to reflect on some of the following questions:
Who are you really?
What does it mean to be you?
What are some of your ethics and morals of origin (from your family) that continue to influence how you see the world?
Think about your last big decision. What needs and motivations influenced your thinking and your final choice?
Needs and Motivations
Your motivations for being a psychotherapist, and the needs that drive your motivations, are analogous to the fuel or energy that prompts you to enter the mansion and climb the spiral staircase. These needs and motivations are many and varied, including what Murray (1938) called secondary needs, such as the need for achievement, gaining and/or retaining materials, power or autonomy, affection-giving and receiving, nurturance, gaining knowledge and sharing it with others. These needs generate motivations for various professional activities, including gaining knowledge and helping others grow.
When we review statements of interest from prospective graduate students, we frequently come across a number of honorable motivations. These noble motivations usually match up well with the personal needs and stated experiences of students: “I like to help people and seem to be pretty good at it. My friends tell me I am a natural. I think this makes me a good match for being a therapist,” or, “My friends typically look to me for guidance. If they have a problem, I’m the one they contact.”
Other needs and motives do not appear on graduate school applications, because they don’t seem relevant or because students are a little ashamed of them. For example, most people want (and need!) to earn money to make a living. A need for achievement might motivate people to enter a profession that enjoys some prestige.
Some of our needs and motives can remain hidden, even from us. We might have an unconscious need to be in power; doing therapy is a way to exert our power in other people’s lives.
It is worth the time to uncover the personal needs that drive our professional ambitions (Bashe et al., 2007). Here’s an example of why it’s important to understand personal needs. This is from Sharon:
I realized during my internship year that one of my motivations to become a psychotherapist grew out of a subconscious drive to make sense of my own family dynamics. This realization came to light while working with an estranged couple. I saw the husband as non-emotional and aloof, and the wife as emotionally needy, neglected, and fragile. I felt good about my work with this couple until my supervisor reviewed the latest session. At one point, she stopped the recording and pointed out how I had really aligned myself with the wife and joined her in blaming her husband for their marriage problems. My first response was shock. My next response was “Ouch!” My professional ego had been pinched! My subconscious need to “fix” a family-of-origin relationship compromised my ability to connect with the husband of this couple. I wasn’t listening well and I was not being helpful to my clients. In this case, my purely personal need to make sense of my parents’ relationship inhibited my professional motivation to do good work.
Some personal needs and motivations are appropriate—in the right amount—and drive helpful professional behavior. For an analogy, think of nitroglycerine: In small doses, it can keep people alive. In larger doses, it’s deadly. Small doses of some personal needs, balanced with professional motivations and sensitivity, will work well. For example, a little psychological voyeurism (wanting to hear about other people’s private lives) might be a good thing when combined with compassion, respect, humility, helping, and objectivity. The voyeurism might help you develop respect. It might keep you interested. Another example is your financial and power needs. These two needs, used appropriately, allow you to do what you do and to achieve your larger goals of helping and service.
The bottom line: Psychotherapy is a profession, which means you don’t just get to do what you want to do. Although your personal needs play a role, your primary motivations need to be professional and moral (Kitchener & Anderson, 2011; Rest, 1983, 1984, 1994).
Journal Entry: Needs and Motivations
We now ask you to dig deep and explore some of the most personal elements of your core. Therefore, we suggest that you complete at least the first two parts of this entry in a quiet, private place where you can be honest with yourself.
Part 1: What personal needs might you be meeting by being or becoming a psychotherapist? When you think back to completing your application for graduate school, what were your top three motivations for applying—for wanting to be a therapist? Are these motivations still present? Since applying to graduate school, what other needs and motivations have become apparent to you that surprise you? What needs and motivations may you have that you haven’t thought of?
Be inclusive in your list of needs and motivations. You may want to revisit the list of secondary needs above as you make your list. When you list your motivations, include the noble ones you discussed on your application. Then, let your guard down to include the less noble needs and resulting motivations. For example, you may like the idea of (a) a nice office rather
