We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Harapan Hope Limansah. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Harapan Hope below.
Harapan Hope, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. We’d love to hear the backstory behind a risk you’ve taken – whether big or small, walk us through what it was like and how it ultimately turned out.
I come from a strictly working-class family. My Appalachian mother waited tables with a 9th grade education her entire life and my father, an immigrant from Indonesia, has worked his entire life as a car mechanic. I was the first person in my entire family to attend and finish college. Thankfully, about 75% of my undergraduate education (pre-art therapy track: BA in studio art with a minor in psychology) was funded by various scholarships and I did not have to take out an exorbitant amount of student loans to fund my education. And despite facing several mental health setbacks along the way (including two mental health medical withdrawals from the university), I was able to graduate only a semester late and with high honors. However, the summer before my senior year my mother was diagnosed with stage 4 ovarian cancer and passed away a little over two years after I graduated. In the time between her diagnosis, my graduation, and her death (and for many years beyond) I struggled severely with my mental health and the depression that accompanies complicated and unresolved grief.
In those years I grappled with addiction, was involuntarily hospitalized several times, and worked myriad service jobs to get by- I waited tables, did sex work, cleaned houses, put up flyers for businesses, nannied, walked dogs- you name it. In that time I also strayed further and further away from my purpose, growing more convinced with each passing year that I’d never work within my chosen career. To clarify, entry-level employment as an art therapist requires the aforementioned undergraduate course requirements, along with a master’s degree and two years of intensive internship experience. With a terminally-ill mother and while fighting my own mental illness, I knew that I was in no place to attend grad school right after getting my undergrad degree, which meant that I had only the first piece of the puzzle.
After graduating and then wallowing for an additional 4 years in Tallahassee, Florida, I took the first part of a huge risk: I spontaneously moved to New York. At the time I was working 50+ hours a week between 2 restaurant jobs and had been disowned by my father with little-to-no communication with the few family members I had left. I was heavily into my life as a musician at the time, playing multiple shows a month between a handful of bands, when a passing performance caught the interest of an obsessively curious stranger. There’s a lot of backstory here but essentially, this person began coming by both of my jobs and other places I frequented looking for me, asking questions about me, following me around town, and, I suspect, coming by my home. Scared and paranoid, with no family to lean on and feeling as if I had no alternative choice in order to protect myself, I made the spontaneous decision to leave town, which turned out to be one of the biggest risks and most consequential decisions I’ve made up to this point. I gathered all the essentials I could think of into a few cardboard boxes, threw them into my car, informed both of my jobs that I would not be back, said goodbye to a small handful of trusted and beloved friends, and started driving, not knowing exactly where I was going or what I was doing. Nearly all of my friends tried to stop me, worried that I would not be able to take care of myself, a few even going so far as to try to have me hospitalized, but I followed my gut, refusing to listen. Along the way I stopped in New Orleans, Gatlinburg, Mobile, Birmingham, and Philadelphia, and eventually landed in New York City- which is where I also ran out of money.
By this time it was the summer of 2016. A lot of things happened between then and now- I left my abusive initial living situation, was badly assaulted and nearly human trafficked, had my car stolen and, once I got it back, lived homeless in my car for those first 4-5 months. Slowly, I began piecing my life back together. I went to the local homeless outreach where I got a caseworker who helped me apply for my vital documents, along with food stamps and cash assistance. That was also where I received my breakfast and lunch and used the computer lab to apply for jobs on Craigslist each day. I found a deli that accepted food stamps for hot food, developed a routine and system for washing my clothes, storing my things, and protecting myself, and showered each night in my car using baby wipes, soap, and water that I stored in huge jugs in the floorboard. Eventually I landed a job working in an optometrist’s office, where I scheduled appointments and sold glasses for $10 an hour under the table. I saved up for several months, working full time while living in my car, and eventually was able to move out of my car and into a tiny month-to-month room for $800 a month. Life continued life-ing over the next few years- my best friend and soulmate committed suicide and I quit my job and returned back to living in my car for a few months due to grief-induced depressive mania, eventually getting back on my feet and switching both jobs and apartments several times in the meantime. Regardless, I worked slowly and diligently at stabilizing both my life and my self- eventually landing a still low-paying but more stable job, stable housing with trusted roommates and friends, health insurance, and a good therapist.
I had been working as the manager of a dogwalking agency for a few years when the pandemic hit. Suddenly, everyone was cancelling their dog walking services due to an overwhelming majority of our client base beginning to work from home and I found myself on unemployment. Due to the weekly stimulus bonus for unemployment recipients at the time, I was making way more money unemployed than I was while working or, frankly, than I had ever made in my life. Suddenly and for the first time in a long time, there was no work to be done and I had a moment to breathe, think, and rest. It was maybe a month or so into the pandemic before I began really ruminating on the fact that I was feeling truly unfulfilled in life- that I hated my job and dreaded the thought of ever going back to it or another job like it. Without the constant need to stay in motion I began realizing that my years of hard work had led me to becoming the healthiest and most physically and mentally stable that I’d ever been, and that I had options outside of working a thankless job for not-enough money for the rest of my life.
I had already laid the foundational tracks for a fulfilling career should I decide to pick my education back up, and so I applied to Pratt’s Art Therapy program and was accepted. Because I had by this time been out of school for 8-9 years and still had outstanding loans that I was paying off from undergrad, I waffled back and forth a million times, agonizing over the concept of a lifetime of debt and feeling the imposter syndrome that comes with returning to academia after almost a decade out of school, with many bad decisions and mental health breaks between. I struggled with the imposter syndrome of wondering whether I was far enough out of the woods with my own recovery from mental illness to be able to adequately counsel or help others. And further, assuming the preposterous amount of personal debt that accompanies attending a private graduate school in the midst of a worldwide pandemic felt like a monumental risk. In ways, especially under the current administration, I still believe it was a risk. Maybe it still is. But I can also say that, sitting here 1.5 years into my chosen career, feeling both challenged and fulfilled every day, feeling proud of the personal growth I’ve acquired and my ability to channel my own experiences with mental illness into a medium for helping others, feeling as if I am doing something good for both myself and other people- I have no doubts about the risks I assumed, both in moving to NYC and returning to school to finish my degree. I very recently passed my exam for both state licensure and national board certification and have also recently accepted a new position that will move me from working as an art therapist in adult inpatient psychiatry to working in medicine. I was accepted into 2 juried art shows this year and I am participating as a panelist during this year’s national American Art Therapy Association conference. I find myself growing every day both personally and professionally and I truly love what I do, no questions asked, thanks to a few hard decisions accompanied by a few monumental yet ultimately rewarding risks.
As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?
My name is Harapan Hope Limansah and I received my BA in studio art with a minor in psychology from Florida State University and my MPS in art therapy and creativity development from Pratt Institute. I currently work as an art therapist in transition between acute adult inpatient psychiatry and an adult partial hospitalization outpatient program within New York City’s public hospital system. As art therapists, our focus is in both psychology as well as traditional art media. Generally speaking, we provide art psychotherapy and treat a wide array of mental health concerns and diagnoses by utilizing the therapeutic qualities of artmaking as a means for personal expression and catharsis. Art therapy is very versatile because while it can incorporate verbal processing alongside artmaking, visual expression alone can still be highly effective for those who may be unable, unwilling, or not yet ready to express themselves verbally. With respect to my own career, I have worked in settings such as schools, community centers, shelters for the unhoused, supportive housing residences, and hospitals. I have worked with children and families, unhoused adults, older adults with dementia, individuals with intellectual disabilities, and individuals with severe and persistent mental illness- and I have yet to meet population I haven’t enjoyed working with!
As someone who has struggled immensely with my own mental health throughout the course of my journey and especially as someone who has experienced firsthand and several times the trauma of being involuntarily hospitalized, I believe that I stand out amongst other mental health practitioners in my ability to fully understand and relate to the situation of the patients I serve. Because I know well the resounding stigma of carrying a psychiatric diagnosis and the perpetual uphill battle (and often nonlinear journey) of working through mental illness on the way towards wellness, I am able to truly and genuinely meet my clients and patients where they are at. I do not fear big emotions in others because I know what it feels like to experience and struggle with them myself. Through falling down and getting back up time and time again in my own journey, I know that recovery is possible, and I work hard to instill that sense of empowerment in the people I work with. In my personal therapeutic practice I prefer to look less at a person’s pathology or diagnosis and more holistically at who they are as a person- and why. I focus less on perceived “deficits” and work more with identifying and highlighting strengths because I know how easy it is in medical settings for illness to overshadow a person’s humanity, how defeating labels can be in both the eyes of society and ourselves. I am most proud of my ability to alchemize my own experiences into the ability to authentically engage with my patients and build the strong rapport necessary to do meaningful work.
I have been creative for as long as I can remember and I am eternally thankful that I had exposure and access to art and art materials from a young age. Having grown up in an abusive and unstable household, I always turned to art as a means of refuge, as a way to cope with my difficult reality. Truthfully, I have little faith that I would have been able to see myself through the darkest parts of night in order to make it where I am today without the healing power of art and the ability to translate my pain through artmaking. I have reaped the benefits and I want to be able to share that gift with others, to provide people with a lifelong coping skill to utilize when times get tough. It’s unfortunate that the arts are always the first thing up on the chopping block when it comes to bureaucratic budgeting. So often I work with people who tell me “I never did this as a kid” or “I’m scared, I don’t know how, I’m not good at art” and it never fails to break my heart. So my job from there (and from any point) is to plant or further nurture the seed of confidence and gently push people to express themselves, to try new things, to problem-solve and to be courageous in their creativity. I am always telling my patients about the beauty and magic of neuroplasticity and our ability to continue growing and changing- that it’s never too late- even when we may feel damaged, stuck, and ashamed. My favorite part of my job is introducing someone to a new form of artmaking and watching their transformation as they begin to feel more comfortable with both themselves and their skills and start developing their own style or approach. For everyone but especially for those afflicted with lifelong mental illness and the stigmatizing labels that accompany it, there is so much power in embodying and accepting the identity of artist because it is a voluntary label of pride and accomplishment, an identity that is chosen rather than assumed.
Training and knowledge matter of course, but beyond that what do you think matters most in terms of succeeding in your field?
First and foremost, self-reflection, self-insight, and self-accountability. As therapists, we are faced with the momentous task of holding heavy and complicated realities for the people we serve while simultaneously holding on to our own inner truths, traumas, demons, and fears. Sometimes we have complicated reactions to the complicated people we serve. Sometimes we just don’t like our clients… and the important thing to remember is that that’s okay! We do not have to like them but we do have the responsibility to serve them ethically and to the best of our ability, despite what personal feelings may come up. And it is impossible to do so without the ability to identify when we are feeling some type of way, and to step back and ask ourselves: “Am I triggered and if so, why? What do I have going on or what have I experienced that may be instigating the feelings I’m having towards this client? Am I out of my wheelhouse? Am I carrying personal biases or judgments into this work? Whose interest am I acting in service of: mine of the client’s/patient’s?” It’s important to demand accountability from ourselves and to be willing to both ask and honestly answer the difficult questions.
And aside from that, empathy, presence, and a trauma-informed approach. So often (and especially in psychiatric/inpatient settings) the essence of who the patient/client is gets lost in the minutiae of symptoms, behaviors, and DSM diagnoses. Sure, art therapy is therapy and thus a foundational knowledge of psychology is required. And sure, the DSM can be a helpful tool for assessing and understanding the symptoms a person might be exhibiting. But there is so much more to a person than the labels ascribed to them and as clinicians we need to see people as individual humans with complex lives and stories to understand and uplift, not just as blanket diagnoses or problems to be dealt with or “fixed.” We need to be able to meet people where they’re at with genuine presence and empathy, to be able to look at the entire constellation of what makes up a person.
Can you share a story from your journey that illustrates your resilience?
10 months into my career as an art therapist I was leading an art therapy group in an adult inpatient psychiatry unit when a patient began attacking another patient. I immediately jumped up and ran to intervene while simultaneously pressing the panic button. As I found out the hard way, the panic button (which blares an alarm over the intercom and alerts staff that help is urgently needed) was not working on this particular day. I began screaming down the hallway for help when the patient, who was experiencing severe psychosis, then directed their attention towards me, grabbing me by my scalp, pushing me to the floor, and dragging me backwards on the floor by my hair. Thankfully help arrived soon but what ensued afterwards was a complete mess. I did not have adequate sick time to allow me to properly heal and thus had to return to work full-time less than 2 weeks later. Unfortunately, the group therapy room, which is where the incident occurred, also doubled as my office. So for the next 3 months I continued to work, deeply traumatized and physically injured, for 35 hours a week while sitting only 6 feet away from where I was attacked. It took 3 months of consulting with worker’s comp lawyers and doctors, advocating for myself, and getting my union representative involved (all while working full-time and attending physical therapy/chiropractic appointments 3 times a week with what turned out to be a torn meniscus) before I was able to receive the necessary 2.5 months off to fully recover. I spent that time attending to my physical therapy and chiropractic appointments, doing intensive behavioral therapy for the resulting PTSD, strengthening both my meditation and art practices, and studying for my state and national licensure exams as I healed and prepared to return to work. I would be lying if I said that there weren’t moments (both at work and at home) of complete emotional breakdown, moments where I questioned myself, my resilience, and my strength. I had to go through all of the private and painstaking motions of hurting, hating, accepting, and forgiving. But ultimately, my passion for my career and resolve to return to work were stronger- I was able to return to work with renewed focus and inspiration and have been steadily carving a path for myself since.
Contact Info:
- Instagram: Hard_nah / Art.by.hara
- Linkedin: Harapan Hope Limansah
Image Credits
Personal photo and photo in “Panelist bio” image by photographer Orlando Asson