Those on the receiving end of crisis line calls often avoid
bringing home the emotions of the workday, the circumstances of
others’ trauma, the deflation of others’ souls. But sometimes,
according to area crisis line operators, that’s just not
possible.
Those on the receiving end of crisis line calls often avoid bringing home the emotions of the workday, the circumstances of others’ trauma, the deflation of others’ souls. But sometimes, according to area crisis line operators, that’s just not possible.
Marianne Marafino has counseled strangers over the phone, with nothing but a voice and a compassionate ear, for six years. She supervises the youth line for Community Solutions; a non-profit agency serving Gilroy, Hollister and Morgan Hill. After a four-hour shift listening to the wide-ranging problems of callers, Marafino said she has always found ways to release her energy, often unconventionally.
“In the car, I will sing so loud!” she said. “People driving next to me must think, ‘Is she OK?’
“I’m just sitting there, singing my heart out to whatever song.”
Other counselors choose physical exercise as therapy, she said – journal writing, bike riding, anything to remove themselves, at least while they’re away from the crisis line.
“It is an emotionally draining job,” she said.
And counselors never grow immune to the simple rigors of listening, she said, because each situation is so different.
“I truly believe that we, as individuals, have to keep on training ourselves to become better and better at what we do,” Marafino said.
Crisis line operators throughout Santa Clara and San Benito counties, both paid and volunteer, credit their passion for helping others – blindly, without tangible rewards – as the reason for committing themselves to the often thankless role.
The rewards are more “personal,” according to Maria Arostigui from Community Solutions.
“It’s very fulfilling …” she said, “when you know you’ve assisted someone.”
Several non-profit organizations in the South County area offer crisis lines – many of them 24 hours per day – for a range of clients including specific lines for youth, rape victims, domestic violence victims and people with general stress-related problems.
Aside from Community Solutions – which has branches throughout the South County area – other established non-profits also offer crisis lines.
For instance, the mental health departments of Santa Clara and San Benito counties each offer a 24-hour line. EMQ Child and Family Services, which serves all of Santa Clara County, provides a line as well.
“People have been (working) here for years and years,” according to an anonymous volunteer with the Santa Clara Mental Health Services line. “It says a lot for the program.”
Other area organizations possess a like-minded pride about retention of paid and volunteer staff.
Marafino assuredly said her department doesn’t have a high turnover rate, even with the job’s load of emotional baggage. She constantly encourages the workers to mentally take care of themselves, she said.
And when she can, Marafino offers the workers her own advice and comfort. In late January she took her staff on a retreat “just to say thank you.”
The front lines, a lifeline
There is no common type of call received by the crisis lines, according to the workers.
“It could be all over the map,” said Allen Yamamoto with San Benito County Mental Health, from suicidal clients to others merely needing conversation.
Even still, most area organizations intensively train operators to follow a formula with each caller. The Suicide and Crisis Program – part of Santa Clara County Mental Health Services – mandates training on its program of 80 hours for its staff, made up of seven paid workers and 85 or so volunteers, according to Eddie Subega, the program leader.
“We try to get callers to access their feelings,” he said.
His staff members don’t try to solve problems, he said. They just empathize.
“We let them know they’re not alone, that the situation really is grave,” he said. “By the end of the call, they (the counselor) might say something like, ‘What are you going to do to take care of yourself?'”
The anonymous volunteer with the Santa Clara County Mental Health Services said she usually starts each call by asking the person to describe his or her feelings.
If the person is dealing with death, the volunteer said she tells them to describe the person who died. Or she may ask the caller to talk about his or her relationship with that person.
“Sometimes just talking about it takes some of the power of the emotions away. … Sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone who’s not thoroughly involved with your situation,” she said.
Marafino said Community Solutions also follows a specific strategy for calls. The organization provides its crisis line workers with an “intake sheet” for clients.
Each call and crisis is unique, though, Marafino said, so formulas and intake sheets do not always dictate the direction of conversations.
“It’s basically about building rapport over the phone quickly,” Marafino said.
Arostigui (from Community Solutions) said she has received an array of domestic violence calls in the middle of the night, often women fearing for their lives. Those cases are usually urgent, she said, and quick thinking becomes a necessity.
She remembered times when domestic violence victims were without the strength to call the police.
“You know their life is in danger, and you make the call (to the police).”
Occasionally suicidal people call the lines. In those cases, there is often no time to dissect the situation, no time to call the police or parents. It’s just a caller and a responder.
“You really have to act on your feet,” Marafino said.
And many of the volunteers for crisis lines, according to Subega, come from families where someone had experienced suicide or attempted suicide in the past. For them, it’s nothing new. But it never gets old.
Subega’s program also includes the Speakers Bureau, a group that goes to schools and talks about suicide risk factors and intervention. They make about 150 presentations per year.
The crisis line workers – mostly volunteers – come back week after week, for many year after year, because of the gratification of helping strangers in need.
“Volunteers are incredibly special people because they’re giving themselves, in a way,” Marafino said.
And as confidentiality is essential for crisis line responders, Marafino said, they can’t exactly go home and vent their frustrations. At the end of their days, weeks and months of constantly being drenched with sorrow, they find support from each other.
