Cultivating Growth and Cultural Competence

David Schlosz • December 17, 2024

Travis C. on Counseling Diverse Populations

In a candid and thought-provoking conversation, I had the opportunity to sit down with Travis C., a student in a Master’s program in Clinical Mental Health Counseling. Travis shared his reflections on one of the most impactful courses in his program: Counseling Diverse Populations. His insights shed light on the importance of cultural humility, curiosity, and vulnerability—qualities that are crucial not only in the classroom but also in professional counseling practice.

Challenging Preconceptions: Shifting Perspectives in the Classroom

At the start of the course, Travis admitted to approaching Counseling Diverse Populations with skepticism. “I thought it would be full of rhetoric and not practical,” he confessed. For many students, diversity courses can feel abstract, rooted in theories that fail to translate into real-world applications. However, Travis’s experience quickly dismantled this preconception.

“It wasn’t prescriptive,” he shared. “It challenged my ideas about diversity and made me look deeper into my own preconceptions.”

This experience of self-reflection is a cornerstone of the class. Counseling professionals cannot offer effective care without first examining their own biases, privileges, and blind spots. Travis found himself questioning deeply held beliefs, pushing past discomfort to engage more fully with the material.

While he appreciated the racial diversity within his class, he acknowledged there was still room for broader representation in other areas, such as gender identity, religion, and socioeconomic backgrounds. Despite this, the open nature of discussions helped him grow personally and professionally.

Navigating the Complexity of Diverse Dynamics

Being a male student in a predominantly female class presented Travis with a unique perspective. “It was an interesting experience being a minority, especially as a male with more conservative beliefs,” he explained. While he appreciated the respectful environment, he sometimes hesitated to share for fear of being perceived as overly contrary.

This hesitation speaks to the delicate balance of fostering authentic dialogue in classroom discussions. Yet, as Travis and I reflected, it’s precisely this tension that makes these spaces so vital. Creating an environment where every voice is heard—no matter how different—requires both humility and curiosity.

One exercise in particular left a profound impact on Travis: the privilege exercise. Students were asked to divide into groups based on various identities and experiences. “It was eye-opening,” Travis said, describing the discomfort he and his classmates felt. While some students struggled with these moments of vulnerability, Travis recognized the value of discomfort.

“Discomfort doesn’t mean a lack of safety. Growth often requires us to step into the uncomfortable.”

This acknowledgment of discomfort as a necessary catalyst for growth highlights a key lesson for counselors: being able to “sit with” discomfort is essential for working with diverse clients. As counselors-in-training learn to challenge their own comfort zones, they also develop the capacity to hold space for clients who may be grappling with their own experiences of identity, privilege, and marginalization.

Preparing to Work with Diverse Clients: Accessibility and “Bracketing”

Travis reflected on how the class prepared him to counsel individuals from vastly different backgrounds. He highlighted the importance of creating a safe, accessible, and nonjudgmental environment for clients:

“If I were counseling a Black trans woman who practices Wicca—a belief system very different from my own—I would set aside my personal beliefs to better understand her experiences.”

This concept—often referred to as bracketing—is essential for cultural humility in counseling practice. Bracketing requires counselors to temporarily set aside their personal values and beliefs so they can focus fully on the client’s worldview. Travis’s commitment to this practice demonstrates his growth as a counselor and his recognition of the importance of culturally competent care.

Encouraging Vulnerability and Connection

One of the most powerful moments Travis experienced in the class came from embracing vulnerability. He recalled a time when he shared a perspective that made him feel nervous, unsure how it would be received.

“It taught me that being willing to share—even when it’s scary—can lead to growth for everyone.”

This kind of vulnerability is not easy to foster in classroom settings, but it is essential. Travis encouraged educators to pay attention to classroom dynamics and help students feel seen and heard, particularly those who might hold back. “It’s important to notice dynamics and facial expressions. Sometimes people hold back, and it’s worth stepping in to help them feel heard.”

His professor’s approach to challenging yet respectful discussions was particularly impactful. By openly acknowledging the potential for triggering content and encouraging dialogue, the professor created a safer space for everyone. “The professor acknowledged that some topics might offend someone and encouraged us to speak up if needed. That made me feel safer and more comfortable sharing,” Travis said.

The Importance of Self-Worth and Personal Development

Beyond the classroom discussions and exercises, Travis’s reflections touched on a broader theme central to counseling work: the inherent worth and value of every individual.

“Everyone matters and has value—regardless of what they’ve done or where they come from.”

For counseling students, this belief forms the foundation of their professional identity. By engaging in experiential learning—exercises, discussions, and reflective practices—students develop the skills they need to embody this philosophy in their work.

Personal development, Travis emphasized, is key: “To help others grow, you first have to grow yourself.”

Final Reflections: Growth Through Discomfort and Connection

Our conversation underscored the transformative power of courses like Counseling Diverse Populations. Travis’s journey is a testament to the importance of humility, curiosity, and connection in both learning and professional practice. By challenging his preconceptions, engaging in meaningful discussions, and stepping into discomfort, Travis has cultivated the tools necessary to become a culturally competent and empathetic counselor.

His story reminds us that growth often emerges from discomfort. In both classroom settings and professional practice, creating safe spaces for vulnerability, reflection, and connection is critical. Counselors must learn to listen, understand, and advocate for clients while honoring every individual’s unique experiences and value.

As future counselors like Travis navigate the complexities of identity, privilege, and intersectionality, they gain the skills needed to make a meaningful impact in the lives of others—helping clients feel seen, heard, and valued in a world that often struggles to do so.

This conversation serves as a powerful reminder of what’s possible when education prioritizes humility, growth, and human connection—values that will shape the next generation of compassionate, competent counseling professionals.

May you be well!

PS [I want to take an extra moment here to thank Travis for his openness and vulnerability and his agreeing to be interviewed. I am exceptionally excited about Travis' future as a counselor. Keep your eye on him - he is going to be out there making a difference.]

< Older Post

Newer Post >

Entrepreneurship and Mental Health

By David Schlosz • January 20, 2026

My conversation with Josh Rosen is, at its core, about the price of building something big. Not the visible markers; companies launched, revenue milestones, awards, and headlines; but the internal journey that rarely makes it into the highlight reel. We wanted to go underneath the “success story” and talk about what it has demanded of him: the pressure, the identity questions, the loneliness, the impact on mental health, and the way his definition of success has changed over time. The central tension is one many founders live with: how do you pursue ambitious dreams in a way that honors both ambition and humanity? Josh captures his approach in a line he shares right at the beginning: “I need to stand because motion creates emotion.” It’s a simple phrase, but it reveals something essential: his commitment to actively engage his inner world, not just endure it. The Making of a Leader: Duality, Sacrifice, and Audacity Publicly, Josh shows up as a “dream maker”. A leader who runs a digital media company and helps brands with go-to-market strategy. He talks about mentorship with genuine pride, describing himself as a “guiding light” for his team. What matters most to him isn’t a vanity metric; it’s watching people in his company reach real-life milestones: buying homes, building stability, starting families. He calls that his biggest standard of success. But privately, his story has another layer. Under the “unflappable” exterior is a deeply sensitive person who feels the weight of responsibility constantly. While his wife may describe him as someone who “doesn’t get nervous,” Josh tells the truth more plainly: “I’m nervous all the time. I just channel it in a different way.” His drive is rooted in a desire to protect the people closest to him and to do right by those who depend on him. A major theme in our conversation is learning when and how to be vulnerable. Leadership often demands steadiness, especially when you know people’s livelihoods are tied to your decisions. When the pressure spikes, he can’t always afford to fall apart. And still, he’s intentional about letting his team see the human being behind the role—often in moments like off-sites or holiday gatherings where the mask naturally comes down. The Weight of Responsibility and the Loneliness at the Top That gap between external perception and internal experience creates isolation. Josh doesn’t describe himself as an optimist. He calls himself a “measured realist,” and that realism comes with a particular kind of emotional load: the persistent awareness of what could go wrong. Over time, the self-doubt doesn’t disappear, it evolves. In some ways, it intensifies. He reflects on how different it felt in the early years, when the team was small and the consequences were simpler. Now, after 14 years and a staff of about 45, many of whom have been with him eight to ten years, the stakes feel enormous. “It can’t blow up. It can’t go away,” he says. “There’s too much riding on it.” That pressure shows up in the quiet moments, what he calls the “shower thoughts”, the relentless private questioning: Am I the right person to lead this? Am I making the right decision? And while people might see the glamour, travel to San Francisco, New York, Europe, they rarely see what it costs. Josh shares a painful example: the first year of his third child’s life, when she mostly knew him through FaceTime. Missed bedtimes. Missed bath time. The moments you can’t put back. That’s where the deeper existential questions emerge: What’s the point? Am I doing the right thing? Josh believes the “founder spirit” is often defined by the ability to compartmentalize, to hold grief and purpose at the same time, and to let sacrifice become fuel for something bigger. Ultimately, what he’s chasing isn’t just money. It’s freedom, especially the kind that buys time. The dream isn’t the number in the bank account; it’s being present on a random Wednesday at 4 p.m. for a ballet recital. The Reluctant Entrepreneur: Formative Moments and Rejection One of the more surprising parts of Josh’s story is that he doesn’t frame himself as someone who always wanted to be an entrepreneur. He calls himself a “reluctant entrepreneur”, pushed toward building his own path through rejection and disillusionment. He talks openly about not being a great student and struggling to respect teachers who hadn’t “been there.” Growing up in the ‘90s, he felt disconnected from traditional career narratives and more drawn to creativity and connection. A high school teacher, someone with real-world experience at Ogilvy, saw potential in him and opened a door into advertising. Then, at 19, his world cracked open. His parents divorced. His father experienced a serious mental health breakdown. His mother, who had been a career housewife, struggled financially. Josh describes the desperation of those years, including forging a document to receive a college bursary, just to cover food and gas. When that check arrived, around $600 or $800, it became a turning point. He felt a conviction settle into his bones: I will never rely on anyone again. I will be responsible for my own destiny. That resolve made him focused, but also impatient. He didn’t want to “pay his dues.” He felt corporate culture was skilled at “whack-a-moling” ambitious young talent. Every rejection became a stored source of motivation. The final push into entrepreneurship came when the company he worked for was sold to private equity. He was repeatedly asked to lay people off members of his own team. With a young family, the emotional cost wrecked him. Taking away someone’s paycheck wasn’t just “business.” It felt personal. It broke something in him and clarified what he didn’t want to be part of. When the opportunity to co-found his first company appeared, it led to a pivotal conversation with his wife: “If we don’t do it now, when are we going to do it?” Josh credits her support as foundational. She could see that, for him, this wasn’t just ambition. It was purpose. It was happiness. It was the future they wanted. Grounding and the Blur of Identity Josh names something many founders feel but rarely say out loud: the way identity fuses with the business. “I am the business, the business is me,” he says. And when you haven’t taken a true vacation in 14 years without work tagging along, it’s easy to start asking dangerous questions in low moments: Am I only what my net worth says I am? Is that all I am? What counterbalances that, for him, is family. Home life has a way of stripping the illusion off success. No matter what happens professionally, the garbage still needs to go out. Someone still has to get to hockey practice. In that space, you’re not “founder” or “CEO.” You’re Dad. You’re husband. That grounding is part of what helps him keep going without losing himself. Managing Stress and Seeking Support Josh is candid about what stress has looked like in his body and behavior: vaping addiction that escalated during COVID, poor diet, sleep deprivation, irritability. He’s developed a framework rooted in a simple truth: two things can be true at the same time . You can be overwhelmed and still grateful. You can feel crushed and still recognize your privilege. His strategy is to build tools that help him move through emotion faster: to compartmentalize, analyze, embrace, and then release. He speaks highly of therapy, crediting a long-term therapist with giving him practical tools for processing his internal world. He and his wife also do couples counseling, which he describes as a “tune-up”, maintenance, not emergency. One of his biggest takeaways: learning to ask for what you need has been a major unlock. And he returns again to the body: movement as release. The gym, for him, isn’t just about fitness, it’s about clarity. Solutions come in post-workout stillness. Reframing and Resilience A core element of Josh’s philosophy is reframing. He shares a story about his 12-year-old daughter struggling to make friends after a move. He helped her name the “worst case scenario” and then softened it: if today goes badly, she comes home to a family who loves her, eats ice cream, and tries again tomorrow. That shift didn’t erase the fear, but it made her brave enough to act anyway. That same resilience shows up in one of his most defining entrepreneurial memories: a time when the company was close to collapse, there was no money for rent, and he felt depleted in every direction. When his partner asked what they were going to do, Josh answered with a kind of stubborn, grounded courage: we’re going to get up, go to the office, and do the best we can, because that’s what we have left. The next morning, a check from their biggest client was waiting. That moment cemented a belief that has carried him: sometimes the win is simply putting one foot in front of the other. Lessons for Others and a Legacy of Humility Josh’s leadership ethos is surprisingly simple: build the kind of company the younger version of you would want to work for. He emphasizes that people don’t really work for companies, they work for people. And when new hires join, he tells them: “You don’t work for me. I work for you.” When I asked what he would say to a founder quietly burning out, his message was direct: you’re not alone. He urges founders to reach out, to tell the truth, to be vulnerable. He also warns against the glossy mythology of success online. For every Rolex and Lamborghini, there’s often a hidden stack of unpaid credit cards. His advice: live quietly. Let your actions speak. The legacy he wants most isn’t status, it’s humility. He wants his children to understand that nothing meaningful happens overnight. He uses examples like Olivia Rodrigo’s “overnight success” to reinforce the truth: what looks sudden is usually built on years of effort. Josh’s mantra is “Fortune favors the brave.” But in his telling, fortune isn’t primarily money. It’s the life he’s created, the family, the freedom, the ability to be present. In the end, he defines wealth in human terms: the family he’s built and the life they get to live.