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My stomach pulls when I hear the words “supervision” and “evaluation.” A tiny, almost imperceptible twinge, a mini-adrenaline spurt, takes center stage for a brief moment, and then takes a bow and exits. But I've been a supervisee for such a long time, and in so many different settings (the professional equivalent of always a bridesmaid) that I feel it should be old hat by now—I'm used to it, comfortable. I've nearly convinced myself of that.
However, upon soaking in and putting down Esther Hanoch's “The Loudness of the Unspoken: A Candidates' Anxiety in Supervision,” I knew I had been sucked back into the center of an experience quite apart from that of the seasoned and unflappable supervisee who is “used to it.” Moved, touched, and anxious, I became aware that I had buried many painful and anxious feelings and experiences I have had in supervision over the years, and in these past four in particular. I also found myself wishing to know more on a personal level. I found myself wondering what happened here? Were her experiences anything like mine? Did she ever feel worried she wasn't liked or respected? What part did shame and narcissistic vulnerability play in her experience? Why was she compelled to write this?
It is no small irony that my anxiety is based in part on the very notion that this piece so resonated with me—that I, too, have experienced demoralizing and angst- and rage-ridden moments with supervisors but in fear that by exposing it to be so, I also expose myself as “difficult,” “resistant,” “problematic to the institute,” unlikable as a future colleague, and so on. It is also with no small sense of irony that as I attempt to respond to this paper, to synthesize my globs of notes, thoughts, and experience in supervision,