I’m a white, (Eastern) European, heterosexual, cisgender, neurotypical (as far as I know), mostly non-disabled, middle-class therapist in my 30s.

Apart from a few rare hiccups, I’ve mostly felt like I “belonged” in professional spaces — my identity, or any personal attribute based on it, rarely questioned.

Living and working for many years in some of the most diverse areas of London, I’ve come to understand that this is a huge privilege - and one that, unfortunately, is often taken for granted.

Our multiple, intersecting identities make up who we are. They colour every aspect of our reality - including who we are as therapists, supervisees, and supervisors

But here’s the thing: in many settings, including supervision, talking about these identities is still taboo.

It’s taboo because as much as supervision is about clinical skills and decision-making, it’s also about power - and power is shaped by our identities. 

Silence does harm

Systemic inequalities can be rife in supervision. Supervisors and supervisees may avoid discussing identity because of:

• “Therapy isn’t political” i.e., lack of understanding, knowledge, or even willingness to learn

• Fear of “getting it wrong”, or appearing insensitive

• Lack of trust - especially if a supervisee is from a minority background and their supervisor is from a majority one

• The pressure of targets and time in busy, understaffed, underfunded services

What this leads to? 

Worse - or even harmful - supervision. And ultimately, worse - or even harmful - therapy.

• Minority therapists often report poorer supervisory relationships, more micro-aggressions, and more harm in supervision than white majority therapists 

• Minority supervisees may find it harder to raise their experience of discrimination in supervision (particularly if they have a majority supervisor) - for fear of it being seen as “not coping”, or “being over-sensitive”

• Minority supervisees may not bring up dilemmas or ‘mistakes’ in supervision for fear of being judged, which can affect their clinical development

• Important information may get omitted from assessment and formulation, which may lead to insufficient, or at times, even inappropriate or harmful interventions

• Clients (and supervisees) end up feeling unheard, misunderstood, and invalidated

Cultural humility and being willing to get it wrong

Enter: Anti-oppressive and decolonised supervision. 

Cultural humility - a lifelong commitment to learning and self-reflection; to reducing or eliminating power imbalances; and to recognising institutional accountability (including our part in it) - stands in stark contrast to the idea of cultural competence.

Because really, the notion that we can become “competent” in someone else’s culture feels a bit presumptuous to begin with.

For me, it’s about staying curious about what I don’t know, being willing to get it wrong, and tolerating discomfort in the service of learning, growing - and becoming, hopefully, a better human.

Brave spaces

So, I talk about my background and experiences. I bring identity into case discussions. I ask potentially tricky questions - while staying aware of timing and tone to avoid provoking defensiveness or shame.

I share when I’ve got it wrong. I invite reflection, collaboration, and uncertainty. I openly condemn oppression and reassure supervisees that it’s okay for them to do the same.

I try to create a safe, but also brave, space - one where I embody the genuineness, openness, and curiosity that I deeply value. A space where identity and power can be named, reflected on, and - hopefully, at the risk of sounding a little dramatic - where minds can open and lives can change.

Therapy isn’t (and shouldn’t be) neutral. Supervision isn’t (and shouldn’t be) neutral. 

When we stop pretending they are, and instead start asking the tough questions - the ones around what voices hold more power - we can hopefully, finally, all share the space. 

After all, we don’t want therapists who all look, sound, and think the same, when there’s so much richness in all our unique identities and voices.


-Carina
https://www.projectevenkeel.com/