COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XIX | 83 Choosing a Frame: How Medusa Tells the Story of Trauma and Life After Trauma EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE 84 | COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI CHOOSING A FRAME ABSTRACT This paper names the elements of the Medusa myth that make it an uncanny allegory for trauma and examines the role of choice—both OH]PUN�JOVPJL�HUK�VɈLYPUN�JOVPJL·PU�[OL�[YLH[TLU[�VM�[YH\TH��0[� JVUZPKLYZ�[^V�WLYZWLJ[P]LZ�VU�[OL�T`[O!�����4LK\ZH�HZ�H�JHW[P]L� object to the hero in the myth and (2) Medusa as an autobiographer, the narrator of her own story, and a subject working to establish more control over her own experience. This myth translates to the social ^VYR�ZWHJL��>OLU�H�JSPUPJHS�ZVJPHS�^VYRLY�HJ[Z�HZ�[OL�SPZ[LULY�VIZLY]LY� HUK�H�WH[PLU[�HZ�UHYYH[VY�H\[VIPVNYHWOLY��[OL�ZVJPHS�^VYRLY�PZ�\UPX\LS`� positioned to support the patient in reclaiming life after trauma. Keywords: Medusa, trauma, autobiography, Freud, Herman, Cavarero COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI | 85 EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE The Gorgons turned men who looked into their living, venomous, snake-encrusted faces to stone. I wonder what might have happened if those men had known how to politely greet the dreadful chthonic ones (Haraway, 2016, p. 54). To narrate is to edit and revise, to decide and imbue meaning. The narrator is the voice we hear, the voice which crafts our beginnings and endings and directs the process of mythmaking. The challenge of capturing one central myth of Medusa, sometimes called the Gorgon or Gorgo, lies in the transience of myth, with its various versions compiled through written and oral histories, each with details slightly adjusted [V�JYLH[L�H�UL^�T`[O��,HJO�UL^�T`[O�OHZ�H�KPɈLYLU[�TVYHS�VY�L[OPJHS� alignment and narrative. Medusa’s name refers originally to her role as a mindful ruler and guardian (Gordon, 2014). Her myth, captured by such classical authors as Homer, Hesiod, Ovid, and Lucan, likely originates from the classical Greek period of 500 BCE-336 BCE (Silverman, 2016). It is the story of a beautiful, mortal woman who is raped and turned into a monster. Medusa, said to be even more attractive than Aphrodite, draws the attention of Poseidon, the god of the sea, who rapes Medusa in the [LTWSL�VM�([OLUH��;OL�]PYNPUHS��HZL_\HS�NVKKLZZ�([OLUH��VɈLUKLK�[OH[� her temple has been desecrated, punishes Medusa by transforming her countenance from beauty to horror, giving her a head of snakes. It PZ�ZHPK�[OH[�HU`VUL�^OV�KHYLZ�SVVR�H[�4LK\ZH�^PSS�IL�WL[YPÄLK�PU�Z[VUL�� But the brave and cunning Perseus, the hero of the story, uses a mirror [V�ZOV^�4LK\ZH�OLY�V^U�YLÅLJ[PVU��)`�\ZPUN�OLY�WV^LY�HNHPUZ[�OLY�� he turns her to stone and is able to decapitate her. Perseus takes the head of Medusa and wields it as a weapon along his journey, eventually gifting Medusa’s head to Athena and saving a princess. The story ends happily in marriage between our hero Perseus and the princess, Andromeda. 86 | COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI ;OL�JSPUPJHS�ZVJPHS�^VYRLY�ILULÄ[Z�MYVT�YLJVUZPKLYPUN�[OL�OLYV»Z� perspective, particularly when approaching treatment with survivors of trauma. The clinical social worker may be tempted, consciously or \UJVUZJPV\ZS �̀�[V�PKLU[PM`�^P[O�[OL�OLYV»Z�UHYYH[P]L!�7LYZL\Z��^OV�ZL[� V\[�[V�JVUX\LY�[OL�.VYNVU��PZ�H�TL[HWOVY�MVY�[OL�^VYRLY�ZL[[PUN�V\[�[V� alleviate the psychopathology of trauma. The clinical social worker, no matter their good intentions, runs the risk of overexerting control in the treatment of trauma if the patient’s sense of choice is not paramount. Attempts to optimize healing, alleviate pain, prioritize treatment protocols, or evade the trauma dismiss the painful, yet necessary, process of the patient grappling with the loss of control they once experienced. In the treatment of trauma, hope lies in the ability of the clinical social worker to see the patient with open eyes, to align with the patient, to revisit dichotomies of self vs. other, and to understand the reestablishment of commonality as the ability to recognize oneself in another, to commune, and to feel seen. By considering the perspective of Medusa, the clinical social worker comes closer to understanding [OL�Z\Y]P]VY�Z�Z[VY �̀�HSSV^PUN�[OL�^VYRLY�[V�ILJVTL�TVYL�HKLW[�H[� supporting the survivor in more fully stepping into their role as narrator of their own story, autobiographer charting their own narrative arc. MEDUSA AS AN OBJECT IN PSYCHOANALYTIC THOUGHT Medusa’s long existence in the clinical imagination consists mostly of plucking her from context, creating an image on which to project TLHUPUN��-VY�:PNT\UK�-YL\K��� �������H���[OL�4LK\ZH�T`[O�PZ�H� TLHUZ�MVY�PSS\Z[YH[PUN�[OL�LɈLJ[Z�VM�[OL�MLTHSL�IVK`·WHY[PJ\SHYS`� the mother’s body—on the male subject. For the male onlooker, Freud claims that the phallic snakes resting atop Medusa’s head are themselves “a mitigation of the horror, for they replace the penis, the HIZLUJL�VM�^OPJO�PZ�[OL�JH\ZL�VM�[OL�OVYYVY¹��-YL\K��� �������H��WW�� 84-85). Freud’s framework positions Medusa as an object to be gazed \WVU��HU�VIQLJ[�\ZLM\S�VUS`�MVY�P[Z�LɈLJ[Z�VU�[OL�THSL�WZ`JOL��UV[�OLYZLSM� a subject with an internal world. CHOOSING A FRAME COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI | 87 Freud positions himself within a tradition of seeing Medusa as an object of horror. In tellings of the myth, Medusa’s decapitated head is said to bring about the birth of Pegasus, the winged horse, and the blood that drips from her head is said to fall to the ground, transforming into ZUHRLZ�[OH[�UV^�YVHT�[OL�KLZLY[�VM�3PI`H��/LZPVK�������������;OLZL� iterations of the myth have historically taken up Medusa as a dead thing, not a person. Freud, too, is interested only in Medusa’s detached head. Freud’s male subject sees Medusa’s head and is reminded of OPZ�V^U�JHZ[YH[PVU�JVTWSL_��P�L��¸[V�KLJHWP[H[L�$�[V�JHZ[YH[L¹"�-YL\K�� � �������H��W�������(Z�H�SVJ\Z�MVY�THSL�WZ`JOVZL_\HS�KL]LSVWTLU[�� Medusa is made to symbolize an abject horror felt by a young boy ZLLPUN�OPZ�TV[OLY»Z�NLUP[HSPH��-YL\K��� ���������� -LTPUPZ[�[OPURLY�:HYHO�2VMTHU��� ���������JH[LNVYPaLZ�-YL\K»Z�HJJV\U[� of Medusa’s head symbolizing the embodiment of the mother’s genitalia as fetishism, because the account deals primarily with the symbolic meaning of Medusa’s parts rather than her whole role as a character PU�[OL�T`[O��5V[�VUS`�KVLZ�-YL\K��� �������H��KLHS�WYPTHYPS`�^P[O� 4LK\ZH»Z�OLHK�J\[�MYVT�OLY�IVK �̀�¸I\[�[OL�ÄN\YL�OLYZLSM�PZ�J\[�H^H`� from, among other things, her relationship to her two sisters” (Gordon, 2014, p. 116). In his analysis of her parts, Freud names the various fragmented objects of Medusa “uncanny.” He states that “severed heads” and female genitalia provoke the experience of the uncanny "double take," or an experience of seeing something so similar to ZVTL[OPUN�LSZL��`L[�KPɈLYLU[��^OPJO�JH\ZLZ�\ULHZL·L]LU�OVYYVY·PU�[OL� VUSVVRLY��-YL\K��� � �����I��WW������������ For the clinical social worker, Freud’s reductive reading of Medusa serves as a warning. By adopting a schema that aligns with the hero’s narrative, the clinician runs the risk of encouraging a framework which treats patients as clusters of symptoms (parts) and characterological traits to be overcome and changed (decapitated). Particularly in work with patients who have survived trauma, the popularity of trauma- PUMVYTLK�THU\HSPaLK�[YLH[TLU[Z�HUK�[OL�THUKH[L�MVY�LɉJHJPV\Z� progress to predicate reimbursability are at odds with the process of UHYYH[PUN!�[LSSPUN�HUK�YL[LSSPUN��YLLUHJ[PUN��TLHUKLYPUN�HUK�WH\ZPUN�� EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE 88 | COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI WPJRPUN�\W�H[�KPɈLYLU[�WSHJLZ�[OHU�^OLYL�VUL�SLM[�VɈ��JYLH[PUN�UL^� directions of memory and thought that previously lay dormant or didn’t previously exist. When the social worker ceases to see the patient as a human subject, instead favoring the proper operationalized intervention, the psychotherapeutic process becomes the actual uncanny thing—a forged replica, a capitalistic, hollowed endeavor that only hints at the original power of the therapeutic process that prioritizes connection. MEDUSA AS A SUBJECT AND HER TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCE Medusa does not have to exist solely as an object in clinical discourse; nor should she. I propose a clinical approach that, as psychologist and WZ`JOVHUHS`Z[�+VYPZ�:PS]LYTHU�W\[Z�P[��H[[LTW[Z�[V�¸ÄUK�H�SPILYH[PUN� YLM\NL�PU�H�Z`TIVSPJ�ÄN\YL�^P[O�NYLH[�HUK�ÄLYJL�WV^LY�HUK�MYLLKVT¹� (2016, p. 117). To grapple with Medusa as a subject is to see her as a person working through trauma. A reading of the myth that doesn’t account for her surviving a brutal rape is, to say the least, limited. A JSVZL�YLHKPUN�VM�4LK\ZH»Z�T`[O�VɈLYZ�[OL�VWWVY[\UP[`�[V�WYVTV[L�OLY� subjectivity, agency, and choice–-an approach which can be applied in the clinical setting. The frame with which the clinical social worker enters the therapeutic dyad tells its own narrative about the positionality of the worker and trauma survivor respectively. It is precisely the way of seeing self and other that has the capacity to empower and disempower and to promote commonality and separateness, connection and disconnection. The processes of telling one’s own story, working it out, and inhabiting a self-other relationship in which one tells and one listens serve as reparative acts that reintegrate the survivor’s sense of selfhood �Z\IQLJ[P]P[`��^P[OPU�[OL�SHYNLY�JVU[L_[�VM�[OLPY�^VYSK��;V�VɈLY�H�Z\Y]P]VY� the choice of determining their own narrative is one attempt the clinical social worker can make to imbue power and promote commonality in the therapeutic dyad, and by extension, support the survivor’s reintegration into their everyday life. CHOOSING A FRAME COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI | 89 In analyzing trauma, we can consider post-traumatic stress disorder as a culmination of uncanny experiences. The symptoms of PTSD include YL�L_WLYPLUJPUN�[OL�[YH\TH�[OYV\NO�ÅHZOIHJRZ��ZVTH[PJ�YLWSPJH[PVU�VM� the arousal state experienced during the trauma (hyperarousal), and reliving the event through nightmares. These symptoms are uncanny because of the unease they strike in their subject. By alluding to something familiar, the subject is forced to recollect the moment of the inciting traumatic event. Flashbacks are like memories, except they are disjointed relivings. Flashbacks are not integrated parts of self that serve the construction of a cohesive narrative; rather, they are fragmented and activating. They are involuntary jolts out of the present state. In Medusa’s myth, the scenes that move the hero’s narrative forward are WYLKPJH[LK�VU�TLU�HJ[PUN�VU�4LK\ZH!�MVY�L_HTWSL��4LK\ZH»Z�JH]L�PZ� LU[LYLK�^P[OV\[�OLY�WLYTPZZPVU�I`�[OL�TLU�^OV�H[[LTW[�[V�JVUX\LY�OLY� Constriction, hyperarousal, and intrusion are the major post-traumatic symptoms that an individual may experience in the aftermath of trauma (Herman, 2015). Hyperarousal, or having an “extreme startle response” and “intense reaction” to otherwise benign stimuli, is a striking concept when contextualized in the Medusa myth, especially when it comes to the example of Medusa’s decapitated head (Herman, 2015, p. 36). Her head, if we take Freud’s view, is a horror, a frightening object that induces a startle response in the eyes of the onlooker. A defense TLJOHUPZT�ÄYZ[�UHTLK�I`�4LSHUPL�2SLPU��WYVQLJ[P]L�PKLU[PÄJH[PVU��PZ� KLZJYPILK�HZ�H�[^V�Z[LW�WYVJLZZ!�ÄYZ[��[OL�WH[PLU[�WYVQLJ[Z�H�WHY[�VM� themself onto the other, and second, the other experiences “pressures” [V�MLLS�HUK�HJ[�PU�HJJVYKHUJL�[V�[OL�JHZ[�VɈ�WHY[��0ZZHJOHYVɈ��(�� �/\U[�� W., 1994, p. 593). For Medusa, the act of looking is her act of projecting onto men the symptoms associated with trauma, notably the “intense startle response” of hyperarousal (Herman, 2015, p. 36). While projective PKLU[PÄJH[PVU�PZ�UV[�JOHYHJ[LYPaLK�HZ�H�[YH\TH�YLZWVUZL�I`�/LYTHU��ZOL� does detail the “involuntariness” of trauma responses, and notes that where there is involuntariness, there exist unconscious desires (Herman, 2015, p. 41). Hurt, isolated, and traumatized, Medusa develops a desperate, unconscious desire to rid herself of Athena’s curse. She EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE 90 | COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI attempts to project her own fear and hyperarousal onto her onlookers in an attempt to free herself from reliving the traumatic experience. Intrusion and its role in the lived experience of trauma appear when TLU�]PZP[�4LK\ZH»Z�JH]L�PU�HU�LɈVY[�[V�[HTL�HUK�JVUX\LY�OLY��;OLPY� attempts to enter Medusa’s cave can be read as an allusion to the rape [OH[�ILNPUZ�[OL�T`[O!�HZ�YLLUHJ[TLU[Z�VM�OLY�[YH\TH��0U[Y\ZPVU�HUK� constriction characterize Medusa’s responses to these men.1 Medusa is cast as the embodiment of her intrusive thoughts, faced with reliving her trauma each time a man forces himself into her cave. Intrusive thoughts and the compulsion to repeat behaviors assign the survivor the role of the repeater. The survivor plays out the trauma over and over again, just as Medusa involuntarily kills anyone attempting [V�JVUX\LY�OLY��;OLPY�Z[VUL�JVYWZLZ�Z[YL^U�HJYVZZ�OLY�JH]L�HYL� reminders of every attempt to enter her. Here we glimpse constriction, VY�¸WHYHS`ZPZ�VM�[OL�TPUK¹!�[OL�¸MYVaLUULZZ¹�VM�4LK\ZH»Z�KLZ[PU`�VM� KLZ[P[\[PVU��/LYTHU��������WW����������6]PK��������������OPNOSPNO[Z� these monuments to Medusa’s trauma when describing Perseus’s LU[YHUJL�PU[V�[OL�JH]L!�¸(JYVZZ�[OL�ÄLSKZ�HUK�HSVUN�[OL�[YHJRZ�OL�OHK� ZLLU�[OL���Z[H[\LZ���VM�TLU�HUK�VM�ILHZ[Z�[YHUZMVYTLK�[V�Z[VUL�H[�[OL� sight of Medusa” (p. 170). She becomes a link in the chain of her own J`JSL�VM�]PVSLUJL��0UJHWHISL�VM�ZLSM�KLÄUP[PVU�VY�]VS\U[HY`�HJ[PVU��ZOL� becomes unreachable, a woman whose gaze can never be met–-that is, WHYHS`aLK��Z[\U[LK��HUK�T\JO�SPRL�[OL�WL[YPÄLK�Z[H[\LZ�VM�TLU� Herman notes that navigating the legal, familial, and social services systems in the aftermath of trauma can be retraumatizing if the survivor’s sense of agency is not upheld. In the aftermath of Medusa’s rape, she is punished by Athena, who attributes the trauma to Medusa’s beauty. Once again, we see that Medusa, as the survivor, is considered only as an object and is blamed for the trauma forced ��0U[Y\ZPVU�KLHSZ�^P[O�^OH[�1\KP[O�/LYTHU�JHSSZ�[OL�¸PUKLSPISL�PTWYPU[¹�VM��VY�Ä_H[PVU�^P[O�� [OL�[YH\TH[PJ�TVTLU[��WW����������;OL�WOLUVTLUVU�VM�JVUZ[YPJ[PVU�PZ�KLÄULK�I`�[OL� ¸U\TIPUN�YLZWVUZL�¹�VY�^OH[�/LYTHU�X\V[LZ�9VILY[�1H`�3PZ[VU�HZ�UHTPUN�H�¸WHYHS`ZPZ�VM� the mind” (pp. 35-45). CHOOSING A FRAME COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI | 91 upon her. Medusa, in the aftermath of her trauma, is denied by Athena [OL�VWWVY[\UP[`�[V�]VPJL�HUK�KLÄUL�OLY�YHWL�VU�OLY�V^U�[LYTZ��0U�[OL� absence of choice and connection, Medusa projects her trauma onto V[OLYZ!�^OLU�4LK\ZH�[\YUZ�OLY�^V\SK�IL�JVUX\LYVYZ�[V�Z[VUL��ZOL� recreates a set of circumstances strikingly similar to her own. In one scene, Perseus displays Medusa’s head to freeze his foe, Nileus, in IH[[SL! ¸;V�OH]L�Z\JO�H�OLYV�HZ�TL�MVY�`V\Y�RPSSLY���T\Z[�Z\YLS`�JVUZVSL�`V\� HTVUNZ[�[OL�]VPJLSLZZ�ZOHKLZ�¹�)\[���OPZ�ÄUHS���^VYKZ�^LYL�J\[�VɈ� HZ�OL�ZHPK�[OLT��;V�Q\KNL�I`�OPZ�VWLU���SPWZ����`V\»K�Z\WWVZL�[OH[� OL�^HU[LK�[V�ZWLHR��I\[�[OL�ZV\UKZ���JV\SKU»[�ÄUK�H�^H`�[OYV\NO�� �6]PK��������������W������ ;OL�OLHK�VM�4LK\ZH�MYLLaLZ��Z[PɈLUZ��HUK�ZPSLUJLZ��7LYZL\Z�Z[VWZ�OPZ� foe from speaking mid-sentence, demonstrating the power of Medusa’s gaze to take away others’ agency through the act of silencing. Deprived of having the chance to speak for herself, she prevents others from speaking, even post-mortem. :JOVSHY�VM�MLTPUPZ[�UHYYH[P]L�[OLVY`�;LYLZH�+L�3H\YL[PZ��� ��������� explores subjecthood through the Medusa myth and posits that by inheriting the hero’s narrative from classical mythology, we restrict our ^H`Z�VM�ZLLPUN�^VTHUOVVK��+L�3H\YL[PZ��� ���������[HRLZ�\W�:[LWOLU� Heath’s assertion that seeing oneself through the other is a formula for Z\IQLJ[OVVK��4LK\ZH�PZ�W\YZ\LK�HZ�[OL�OVYYPÄJ�VIQLJ[�WHY�L_JLSSLUJL�� the thing to be slain. As men approach her, they hold a preconceived UV[PVU�VM�^OH[�[OL`�^PSS�ÄUK��;OL`�HYL�VU�LKNL��SVVRPUN�HYV\UK�L]LY`� corner, expecting danger in their own state of hyperarousal. Hesiod �����������NVLZ�HZ�MHY�HZ�[V�KLZJYPIL�4LK\ZH�HZ�¸\UHWWYVHJOHISL¹� (p.12). Upon noticing the presence of men, Medusa looks. She cannot ZLL�[OLZL�V[OLYZ�ZLLPUN�OLY��MVY�^OLU�ZOL�SVVRZ��ZOL�ÄUKZ�OLYZLSM� looking at stone, no one there to greet her gaze. Heath states, “If the woman looks, the spectacle provokes, castration is in the air, the 4LK\ZH»Z�OLHK�PZ�UV[�MHY�VɈ"�[O\Z��ZOL�T\Z[�UV[�SVVR��PZ�HIZVYILK�I`� EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE 92 | COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI OLYZLSM¯�¹��HZ�JP[LK�PU�+L�3H\YL[PZ��� ���������W��� ��� Attached so closely to her trauma, Medusa is denied a life in which she is able to contextualize her traumatic experience within a broader \UKLYZ[HUKPUN�VM�OLY�PKLU[P[ �̀�0UZ[LHK��ZOL�ILJVTLZ�KLÄULK�I`�OLY� [YH\TH��JH\NO[�HUK�JVKPÄLK�PU�OLY�V^U�T`[O��0U�[OPZ�Z[H[L��ZOL�PZ� Z[YPWWLK�VM�OLY�HNLUJ �̀�HSVUL��\UHISL�[V�L_WLYPLUJL�[OL�Z\IQLJ[PÄJH[PVU� born from seeing another see her. In framing Medusa as the monster and the men who come to tame her as the heroes, we are enabling a practice of limited perception and perpetuating the narrative of Medusa as a monster. That is, we are preserving her isolation, framing her as V[OLY�HUK�HZ�[OL�VIQLJ[�VM�[YH\TH�WLYZVUPÄLK��� Medusa’s is the canonical gaze that turns others to stone; it is therefore the gaze that cannot seem to see itself. If Medusa were to look at herself, would she not turn to stone? Without the capacity to gaze upon OLYZLSM��ZOL�JHUUV[�VɈLY�OLYZLSM�H�SV]PUN�NHaL��JVU[LTWSH[L�OLY�V^U� narrative, acknowledge her own fragility, or place herself within the context of the life she has lived. Without selfhood and the capacity to JVTT\UL�^P[O�OLY�^VYSK��4LK\ZH�PZ�H�ZLYPLZ�VM�ÅHZOIHJRZ��JH\NO[ULZZ� incarnate, repeatedly reliving her trauma. Without the ability to see her whole self or to see herself through the eyes of another, Medusa is limited, if not completely inhibited, in her ability to gain self-awareness of her positionality in her world. Psychoanalyst Robert Bosnak (2007) writes of the necessity of narrative [V�JVU[L_[\HSPaL�HUK�H[[HJO�\Z�[V�V\Y�V^U�Z[VY`!�¸,UKSLZZ��Z[LYLV[`WLK�� Ä_LK�YLWL[P[PVU�PZ�[OL�L_JLW[PVU��HUK�Z\JO�[YH\TH�^PSS�UV[�YLH[[HJO�[V� the Renaissance patchwork of states, but will remain a body drifting in space” (p. 46). The ability to weave one’s experiences into the patchwork that is their life story is paramount for integration and healing from trauma. )VZUHR��������KPɈLYLU[PH[LZ�UHYYH[P]L�TLTVY`�MYVT�[YH\TH[PJ�TLTVY �̀� ^OPJO�PZ�[OL�[PTLSLZZ��HOPZ[VYPJHS��LS\ZP]L��H[`WPJHS�ÅHZOIHJR�[OH[�[OL� American Psychiatric Association (2013) names as a criterion in the CHOOSING A FRAME COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI | 93 diagnosis of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. He writes, “Flashback-type TLTVY`�PZ�JVTWSL[LS`�KPɈLYLU[�MYVT�[OL�KPZJ\YZP]L��UHYYH[P]L�TLTVY`�VM� ordinary waking consciousness” (Bosnak, 2007, p. 46). He goes on to explain that the Greek word for revelation is apokalupsis (apocalypse). The earth-shattering revelation of meaning, Bosnak purports, is not MV\UK�PU�[OL�ÅHZOIHJR��0UZ[LHK��[OL�Z[HY[SL��[OL�\UJHUU �̀�HUK�[OL�[LYYVY� ILSVUN�[V�[OL�YLHST�VM�[OL�[YH\TH[PJ!�[OL�YLHST�VM�4LK\ZH��/LYTHU� (2015) takes up the notions of memory and time in her explication of the ZVTH[PJ�HZWLJ[Z�VM�[YH\TH��KLZJYPIPUN�[OL�X\HSP[`�VM�[YH\TH[PJ�TLTVYPLZ� as “frozen” in time (p. 37). She goes on to describe the uncanny, H[LTWVYHS�X\HSP[PLZ�VM�YLLUHJ[TLU[Z��/LYTHU�Z[H[LZ�[OH[�YLLUHJ[TLU[Z� have feelings of “involuntariness,” that they are “driven, tenacious” PU�JOHYHJ[LY��HUK�[OH[�[OL`�M\SÄSS�H�¸YLWL[P[PVU�JVTW\SZPVU¹�HUK�¸KLH[O� instinct” (2015, p. 41). Medusa’s reenactments and embodied traits of O`WLYHYV\ZHS��JVUZ[YPJ[PVU��HUK�PU[Y\ZPVU�L_LTWSPM`�[OL�¸ÅHZOIHJR�[`WL¹� memories that Bosnak (2007) describes as not integrative, because there exists in them no revelation of meaning (p. 46). The act of gazing upon oneself to know oneself does not occur, because we do not see V\YZLS]LZ�PU�H�ÅHZOIHJR"�^L�ZLL�^OH[�OHWWLULK�[V�\Z��0[�PZ�H�YLWL[P[P]L� Z[\JRULZZ!�[OLYL�PZ�UV�NVPUN�MVY^HYK��UV�UL^�RUV^SLKNL��UV�TV\YUPUN� or grieving—only a reliving of what was. GLIMPSING HEALING THROUGH NARRATIVE REINTEGRATION A central complication of trauma is determining when something traumatic ceases to control the survivor and at what point the survivor is able to integrate their traumatic experience into the patchwork of their greater life experience. Symptoms of trauma look a lot like the healing of [YH\TH·\UJHUUPS`�ZV��/LYTHU��������WVZP[Z�[OL�ÄUHS�Z[HNL�VM�YLJV]LY`� for trauma survivors as reconnection. Empowerment is the core experience of recovery, and this stage of reconnection is characterized by a readiness to incorporate the lessons of one’s traumatic experience into their life. The importance of agency and choice is highlighted in Herman’s work concerning the stages of recovery for survivors of EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE 94 | COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI [YH\TH��ZWLJPÄJHSS`�¸[OL�JOVPJL�[V�L_WVZL�VULZLSM�[V�KHUNLY�¹�^OPJO�� she states, can be understood as “another reenactment of trauma” (p. 197). The distinction between the stuckness of some reenactments and [OL�MYLLKVT�VM�[OPZ�ZVY[�PZ�[OL�]HYPHISL�VM�JOVPJL!�¸HU�H[[LTW[�[V�THZ[LY� the traumatic experience” that is “undertaken consciously” (Herman, 2015, p. 197). This conscious reenacting is a reclamation of one’s own SPML·YLJSHPTPUN�[OL�[YH\TH[PJ�HUK�YLKLÄUPUN�P[�VU�VUL»Z�V^U�[LYTZ·H� WYVJLZZ�VM�ÄUKPUN�HS[LYUH[L�LUKPUNZ�[OH[�HYL�KPɈLYLU[�MYVT�[OL�[YH\TH[PJ� TVTLU[�P[ZLSM��0[�PZ�HU�HZJYPW[PVU�VM�UL^�TLHUPUN�IL[^LLU�ZPNUPÄLY�HUK� ZPNUPÄLK� Particularly for clinical social work, a therapeutic narrative reclamation VɈLYZ�[OL�WH[PLU[�[OL�JOHUJL�[V�YLLU[LY�[OL�YVSL�VM�UHYYH[VY�VM�[OLPY�V^U� life. The philosopher Adriana Cavarero (2000) establishes a methodology for narrative reclamation by illustrating how the act of silencing is the preluding act to one taking on the role of narrator, in which one must YLTHPU�X\PL[�MVY�[OL�V[OLY�[V�ZWLHR��VY�[OH[�VUL�T\Z[�ZPSLUJL�PU�VYKLY�[V� IL�OLHYK��>P[O�[OPZ�WLYZWLJ[P]L��^L�TH`�X\LZ[PVU�[OL�PU]VS\U[HYPULZZ�VM� Medusa’s repetition compulsions and cast them instead as intentional reenactments—attempts to regain her voice and narrative. 0U�H[[LTW[PUN�[V�KLÄUL�[OL�Z\IQLJ[P]L�L_WLYPLUJL��[^V�JLU[YHS�X\LZ[PVUZ� HYPZL!�¸who is speaking,” and “who is listening?” According to Cavarero, [OL�HJ[�VM�H\[VIPVNYHWO`�ZLY]LZ�[V�LTWV^LY�I`�VɈLYPUN�[OL�VWWVY[\UP[`� for the narrator (self) to practice self-determination through the crafting of their own story. Cavarero (2000) writes, “[T]o tell one’s own story is to distance oneself from oneself, to double oneself, to make oneself an other” (p. 84). This means seeing oneself in one’s memory and using recollection as a “separated mirror” (Cavarero, 2000, p. 84). We gaze upon ourselves to know ourselves. It is the distance from ourselves that allows us the space to see with clear eyes, not in fragmented parts, but as a whole. It is through the practice of autobiography that we are VɈLYLK�[OL�VWWVY[\UP[`�[V�YL^YP[L�ILSPLMZ��HZJYPIL�UL^�TLHUPUNZ��ZLL� ourselves without judgment, bear witness to our own fragility, and, in LɈLJ[��[V�SV]L�V\YZLS]LZ! CHOOSING A FRAME COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI | 95 (Z�[OL�ZH`PUN�NVLZ!�3V]L�PZ�ISPUK·UV[�ILJH\ZL�P[�[\YUZ�\WVU� the invisible, but because it is without judgment with respect to that which others see. It experiences another type of gaze—a NHaL�[OH[�JVTLZ�MYVT�[OL�HNVUPaPUN�L_WLYPLUJL�VM�ÄUP[L�ILPUN»Z� appearance, in its constitutive fragility. (Cavarero, 2000, p. 112) *H]HYLYV�KLÄULZ�[OL�SV]PUN�NHaL�HZ�ZLLPUN�PU�ZWP[L�VM�VY�SVVRPUN�WHZ[� judgment. There exists an intentionality to the loving gaze in choosing to see the other despite preconceived judgment. Medusa’s myth holds potential for this kind of seeing. Precisely as Herman (2015) describes healing from trauma, awareness of reenactments is essential to healing. Intentional reenactments, when repeated over and over again, are small steps toward re-working and re-wiring ourselves into subjects who, [OYV\NO�WYHJ[PJL�HUK�[PTL��JVTL�[V�HJX\PYL�H�JLY[HPU�JVTTHUK�V]LY� our experience. We slowly and untidily become the narrators of our lives again. We can see the instance of the men’s stupor as the moment that the role of narrator and protagonist transfers to Medusa. Medusa’s intent to be seen and heard is what freezes the men. Medusa’s act of being seen, turning her enemies to stone, and silencing them gives her a chance to reclaim the role of narrator and heroine. We see Medusa’s intentionality in the climax of her battle with her heroic counterpart. Perseus uses Medusa’s own gaze against her to freeze and decapitate her. But there must be time between these two moments, freezing and decapitating, because as art critic and [OLVYPZ[�*YHPN�6^LUZ�HZRZ��¸OV^�JHU�7LYZL\Z�J\[�VɈ�[OL�OLHK�VM�H� Z[VUL�Z[H[\L&¹�6^LUZ��� ���������[VVR�\W�[OL�3HJHUPHU�JVUJLW[�VM� suture�HUK�YLUHTLK�P[�[OL�¸4LK\ZH�LɈLJ[¹��W������!�[OL�WYVJLZZ�VM� WZL\KV�PKLU[PÄJH[PVU�PU�^OPJO�[^V�[OPUNZ�HYL�ZLLU�HZ�VUL�I\[�HYL�PU� MHJ[�ZLWHYH[L��P�L���[OLYL�PZ�H�KPɈLYLUJL�IL[^LLU�ZLLPUN�ZVTL[OPUN�HUK� [OL�[OPUN�P[ZLSM���6^LUZ�PKLU[PÄLZ�[OL�TVTLU[�4LK\ZH�ZLLZ�OLYZLSM� PU�[OL�YLÅLJ[PVU�VM�7LYZL\Z»Z�TPYYVYLK�ZOPLSK�HZ�LU[PYLS`�KPɈLYLU[�MYVT� the moment when she turns herself to stone. If Medusa is not in fact [\YULK�[V�Z[VUL�\WVU�ZLLPUN�OLY�YLÅLJ[PVU�PU�7LYZL\Z»Z�ZOPLSK��ZOL�TH`� have seen herself in the shields of her assailants all along. Through EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE 96 | COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI this reading, Medusa is imbued with a freedom, an agency, and a satisfaction in seeing herself. If she can see herself, her capacity for inhabiting the role of narrator lives on. She owns her willingness to be seen. ANOTHER KIND OF GAZE ;OL�4LK\ZH�LɈLJ[�HSSV^Z�[OL�YLHKLY�VM�[OL�T`[O�[V�NSPTWZL� PU[LU[PVUHSP[`!�H�KLJPZPVU�PZ�THKL�^OLU�4LK\ZH�ZOV^Z�OLYZLSM��0M�[OL�HJ[� VM�ZLLPUN�OLYZLSM�HUK�VM�ILPUN�ZLLU�HYL�ZLWHYH[L�MYVT�[OH[�X\PU[LZZLU[PHS� TVTLU[�VM�Z[PɈLUPUN��[OLYL�L_PZ[Z�H�TVTLU[�VM�[PTL�MVY�H�KLJPZPVU�[V�IL� made—a moment for Medusa to make “the choice to expose [her]self,” that is critical to her reentry into communing with the world (Herman, 2015, p. 197). Medusa can be our heroine, pushing forward her own narrative. Gordon �������^YP[LZ�VM�4LK\ZH�HZ�[OL�¸ILH\[PM\S�ÄN\YL�B^OVD�JHU�VUS`�^VUKLY�� X\PaaPJHSS`¯^P[O�H�ZTPSL��H[�[OL�MY\Z[YH[LK�TLU�^OV�^V\SK�[\YU�OLY� beautiful hair into snakes, and her into a monster” (p. 123). Medusa Z[\WLÄLZ�VUS`�^OLU�ZOL�HSSV^Z�OLYZLSM�[V�IL�ZLLU��7LYOHWZ��PU�SVVRPUN� at her straight on, we glimpse Medusa looking at herself in a state of recollecting, as Cavarero (2000) suggests—distanced enough from herself, telling and retelling her own story. We glimpse a woman trying to put pieces together. Medusa is compelled by involuntary actions until [OL�Z\[\YL��VY�4LK\ZH�LɈLJ[��PZ�L_WVZLK�HUK�\UKVUL!�\U[PS�^L�ZOPM[�V\Y� MYHTL�HUK�ZLL�OLY�^P[O�KPɈLYLU[�L`LZ��(UK�^OH[�VM�4LK\ZH�L_WLYPLUJPUN� herself being seen through the eyes of another who is not afraid, not fetishizing her, but instead gazing upon her with “another kind of gaze,” gentle, without judgment, and intent on preserving her sense of choice (Cavarero, 2000, p. 112)? A tender gaze that said I’m here with you? What if Medusa could experience this communion with another? She might be “as the drop of rain in the sea” (Herman, 2015, p. 236). What potentiality would exist for her then? Commonality with other people carries with it all the meanings of the word common… It means having a feeling of familiarity, CHOOSING A FRAME COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI | 97 of being known, of communion. It means taking part in the customary, the commonplace, the ordinary, and the everyday. (Herman, 2015, p. 236) Herman (2015) emphasizes the necessity for survivors of trauma to focus on the development of desire and initiative, as well as commonality, in the process of reintegration. Telling one’s story is itself an act of searching for common experience. Narrative is bridge-building, allowing one to escape the isolation of traumatic experience. There is WV[LU[PHS�MVY�ZVTLVUL�VJJ\W`PUN�[OL�WH[PLU[�YVSL�[V�ÄUK�OVWL�PU�[OLPY� own choice to decide when, how, and for whom they become vulnerable or show themself after trauma. Herman (2015) posits that healing is H[�SLHZ[�PU�WHY[�K\L�[V�[OL�PUKP]PK\HS�Z�HIPSP[`�[V�HJX\PYL�H�T\S[P[\KL�VM� experiences—some mundane—after a trauma, which serves to help YLJHSPIYH[L�VUL�Z�ZLUZL�VM�HU�HWWYVWYPH[L�Z[YLZZ�YLZWVUZL�[V�Z[PT\SP�� A clinical social worker who consciously or unconsciously emulates the decapitation of Medusa is one that promotes functioning in social and institutional systems founded on patriarchal power structures. The YHTPÄJH[PVUZ�VM�JVU[HPUPUN�[OL�\UJVU[HPUHISL�PU�OVWLZ�VM�WYVTV[PUN� acceptable modes of functioning for systems that are designed to VWWYLZZ�Z[PÅL�ZLSM�KLÄUP[PVU�HUK�JOVPJL��0[�PZ�4LK\ZH»Z�PU[LYSVWLYZ��HUK� by extension, viewers who adopt the hero’s narrative, who objectify and mitigate the anticipated horror they perceive in Medusa. It is Perseus’ success in avoiding the act of facing Medusa head-on that enables him [V�KLJHWP[H[L�OLY��;V�SVVR�OLHK�VU�PZ�ZVTL[OPUN�KPɈLYLU[��/V^�[OLU�JHU� the clinical social worker approach Medusa with clear eyes and a loving gaze rather than with the impulse to contain and manage? Medusa’s myth suggests that instead of being tempted to soothe all wounds, to rescue, and to make the trauma go away, the clinical social ^VYRLY�OHZ�H�K\[`�[V�ZLL�[OL�WH[PLU[�HZ�HɈLJ[LK�I`�[OLPY�[YH\TH�I\[�UV[� KLÄULK�I`�P[��HZ�ZVTLVUL�^OVZL�HJ[PVUZ�TH`�[LZ[��TH`�W\ZO�H^H �̀�HUK� may try to imbue those around them with feelings that are not their own. ;OPZ�PZ�[OL�WH[PLU[�^VYRPUN�P[�V\[��ÄUKPUN�[OLPY�]VPJL��JHSPIYH[PUN��HUK� learning to see themself and their world anew. As clinical social workers, EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE 98 | COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI we are alongside our patients, attempting to always expose the Medusa LɈLJ[��JVU[PU\HSS`�TV]PUN�[V^HYK�[OL�ZWHJL�PU�IL[^LLU�[OL�^VYSK� and our understanding of it. It is in this space that the most important aspects of trauma treatment—choice, awareness, and intention—are seen. REFERENCES American Psychiatric Association. (2013). Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (5th ed.). American Psychiatric Association. Bosnak, R. (2007). Embodiment: Creative imagination in medicine, art and travel. Taylor and Francis. Cavarero, A. (2000). Relating narratives: Storytelling and selfhood. Routledge. De Lauretis, T. (2003). Desire in narrative. In M. Garber & N. J. Vickers (Eds.), The Medusa Reader (pp. 198–200). Routledge. (Original work published in 1984) Freud, S. (2003a). Medusa’s head (J. Strachey, Trans.). In M. Garber & N. J. Vickers (Eds.), The Medusa Reader (pp. 84–86). Routledge. (Original work published in 1922) Freud, S. (2003b). The uncanny (D. McLintock, Trans.). Penguin Books. (Original work published 1919) .VYKVU��7����������4LK\ZH�YLJHWP[�\S�H[LK!�-YL\K��MLTHSL�NLUP[HSPH�HUK�[OL�¸J\U[�YV]LYZ`¹� at CU. Psychoanalysis, Culture & Society, 19(2), 113–126. Haraway, D. J. (2016). Staying with the trouble: Making kin in the chthulucene. Duke University Press. Herman, J. L. (2015). Trauma and recovery. Basicbooks. Hesiod. (2003). The shield of Herakles (R. Lattimore, Trans.). In M. Garber & N. J. Vickers (Eds.), The Medusa Reader (pp. 11–12). Routledge. (Original work published c. 700 BCE) 0ZZHJOHYVɈ��(��� �/\U[��>���� ����;YHUZMLYLUJL�HUK�WYVQLJ[P]L�PKLU[PÄJH[PVU� Contemporary Psychoanalysis, 30, 593-603. 2VMTHU��:����������;OL�LUPNTH�VM�^VTLU!�>VTLU�PU�-YL\K»Z�^YP[PUNZ��*��7VY[LY��;YHUZ����0U� M. Garber & N. J. Vickers (Eds.), The Medusa Reader (pp. 165–167). Routledge. (Original work published 1980) Ovid. (2004). Metamorphoses (D. Raeburn, Trans.). Penguin Books. (Original work published c. 43 BCE - 17 CE) CHOOSING A FRAME COLUMBIA SOCIAL WORK REVIEW, VOL. XXI | 99 6^LUZ��*����������;OL�4LK\ZH�LɈLJ[�VY��[OL�ZWLJ[HJ\SHY�Y\ZL��0U�4��.HYILY� �5��1��=PJRLYZ� (Eds.), The Medusa Reader (pp. 203–209). Routledge. (Original work published 1984) :PS]LYTHU��+����������¸4LK\ZH!�:L_\HSP[ �̀�WV^LY��THZ[LY �̀�HUK�ZVTL�WZ`JOVHUHS`[PJ� observations.” Studies in Gender and Sexuality, 17 (2), 114–125. EZRA YURMAN-WHYDE