I recently visited the Glastonbury Pottery Museum - yes, of the Great British Pottery Throwdown (Channel 4) - and learned about the life of workers in the potteries. One of the information boards at the museum tells of a son whose father paid a, then, hefty price of £500 for their son to be taken on in the office, presumably in the hope of a better life than the one he faced where labourers in the potteries rarely survived beyond their early forties. The son was recorded as working very long hours while attending evening school and also work for free for two years. Meanwhile, as other information boards told, others would ask for a job at the bottom of the ladder as a Runner, in hope that if they worked hard and well enough, they would be encouraged by a foreman (of sorts) to work in a job that could increasingly contribute to the family coffers. I learned that, after seven years of on-the-job training, a degree of mastery could be recognised and they were awarded the label, 'time-served'.
This term, 'time-served'; means something to me from my past. My dad was a time-served electrician. I did not know much about his work and sadly, he is no longer around to ask, but I imagine him being under someone's wing while he learned the mastery of his work - the knowledge, skills and attitude needed to have a long working life. My perception was that being time-served was something to be proud
of, a mark of quality. Now, though, I rarely hear the term.

This raised the question in me:

Do I feel differently about accreditation if I think about it in terms of completion of an apprenticeship?
As someone who developed through the diploma route to their counselling career, it is not hard to transpose the experiences of the old tradesmen onto the development of a counsellor. After getting ‘in the door’, Levels 2 and 3 means learning and experiencing the equivalent of night school, learning the basic language, knowledge, skills and attributes that would give room to consider how/whether this could be a job for life. Being in education is not the same as 'sitting with Nelly’ whilst we learn the ropes. Nor does it enforce the chance of acquiring a job for life which are now, in the majority, a thing of myth and legend. But for those who consider it might,
progression to Level 4 brings a demand of significant investment in self and a shift in professional responsibility. Placements (where we work for free for 18 months, give or take a few months depending on luck and capacity) and Clinical Supervisors take us under their wing to guide us through the process that will, potentially, set us up to open the door to future mastery.

One difference to the apprenticeship of the potters is that on completion of Level 4, it feels like we are somewhat cut loose. For  practitioners like me, accreditation may seem like an optional checkpoint. For years, I wrestled with the notion of accreditation. My perception of it was that the process is political, separative, facilitates elitism and an opportunity for the large, powerful professional bodies to make even more money from its members. These are barriers to my ideals. Over those years, I asked peers and colleagues who had been through the process what their reasons were for their decisions. I was genuinely curious. I wanted to hear a good enough reason. Instead, I heard that they saw it as a way to work for/with the NHS or Employee Assistance Programmes. They openly shared that they were prepared to pay for the opportunity, considering it a necessary step in the process. The comments of others did nothing to allay my critique. Furthermore, the ongoing expense of applying for and being accredited which seemed absent of anything else of benefit meant I became determined not to succumb to the party line that paying for accreditation would evidence me to be a better practitioner. Eventually, I did apply for and complete accreditation.

As is my bent, I went beneath the surface, probably because I was not engaging in the intended spirit of the accreditation process - I went through it to find out, first hand, whether it would be ‘worth it’ and I was dissatisfied with having to experience it to find out. First, I turned my attention to the professional bodies. I had been with the same professional body since my training. I, like many, was told which professional body I ‘had’ to join if I wanted to complete the course. No choice.

In my ongoing development, I looked outside of that professional body and compared three. I learned that the codes of  conduct/ professional practice are mirrors of each other. This encouraged me to look deeper. It is all so easy for an organisation to say, 'clients are our focus', 'we work with integrity', ‘we care for our members’, and so on. What company board in its right mind would be say
otherwise? I became curious, instead, about where the company ethos aligned with mine. Taking the perspective that I can best look after my clients if I feel looked after, my questions became, (1) 'Why would I choose to be governed by this professional
body rather than that one?'; and (2) 'What am I actually paying for?'; It took a while to fathom what all this meant to me but, from here, I feel I developed a better understanding of how to consider whose mark of accreditation mattered to me. I made my decisions based on this. I found the accreditation process to be an interesting from a lifelong learning perspective and as part of my academic curiosity.
Being awarded accreditation by my Clinical Supervisors would have meant more to me than the award of a professional body. My two Clinical Supervisors have watched my development over time. They know my flaws, have challenged misconceptions and celebrated my successes. By the time I am at the stage of accreditation, they have a clearer understanding of my professional practice than anyone else. They have the capacity to be the day-to-day gatekeepers of the profession. In hindsight, I realise that recognition was important to me, not validation. 

There is consistency here with the training route that I took in my studies. The method of gaining qualification (e.g. BTEC, NVQ, Diploma) where workers evidence the capability of doing the job and gain recognition for the competence of their work. Yet, in discussions with professional peers over ten years, conversations have focused on qualification. No one has ever said to me that earning qualification or
accreditation signified evidence of working an apprenticeship, developing a 'time-served'; degree of mastery. It was the same for me too – until reading the information boards at the working museum gave me a different perspective. I have found it helpful to have this unexpected experience. In a flash, I realised that I want to be proud of achieving accreditation, of being a time-served therapeutic
practitioner. I think it is a quality mark that would mean something to my clients, a mark that they feel they could trust. I also want my supervisees who pursue accreditation to recognise the mark of the occasion and to feel proud – that it is more than just a box to be ticked in their professional journey, a route to earning more money.

A revision of the language?
Perhaps revising the language around accreditation is all that's needed. For example, “As an accredited counsellor, you are recognised as educationally qualified and time-served.” Certainly, as I write that phrase, I experience a sense of strength that recognises the work I have done as I continually work towards lifelong mastery of my craft. And now, because of a chance visit to a working museum in the
Midlands, I have a new perspective when with clinical supervisees who are wrestling with whether or not to be accredited.

#accreditation #clinicalsupervision #counselling #counsellingandpsychotherapy # counsellingtraining #curiositykilledthecat #lifelonglearner #newperspectives