The first licensing board meeting that I attended was in Sacramento. I did not live locally, so I had to travel to attend the meeting. I can remember well that trip and all of the expectations that I had. Basically all I knew about the California Board of Behavioral Sciences (BBS) was what I had heard from professors while in my master’s program, which was that the BBS was some ultimate authority that was to be revered and respected.
Because of what I had been told, I had honestly expected the meeting to be at some lavish location with lots of amenities. I expected the board members to be sitting on a platform, similar to a judge in a court, to highlight their authority. I had expected there to be structured, pre-arranged seating for those in advocacy positions. (I was attending as part of my advocacy role within the California Division of AAMFT.) Arriving early seemed critical, as I had expected there to be a relatively large crowd of attendees present.
None of those expectations came to pass.
The mental health professions have long recognized that with our positions and our expertise comes a great deal of responsibility. In exchange for our professional status and the trust we are given to work with vulnerable people in private, we agree to act not just on behalf of our clients, but also on behalf of the larger communities who grant us that very trust. This means maintaining awareness of the laws and policies that impact our clients and communities, and working to change those policies that are not in the community’s best interest.
In the world of private education, it isn’t uncommon for universities to be bought and sold. But recent years have seen a spike in the acquisition of private universities offering graduate degrees in mental health fields. Many students may not even be aware that their universities are now parts of larger corporations.
Ben recently published an article on 
If you’re a therapist in private practice, you’re probably listed on