Image from a website called Pacific Teen

They say after the dust settles you often find perspective, the pain eases with time. Apparently, people have trouble remembering the physical pain of trauma after it has passed, like childbirth, abuse, or injury because the body goes into shock, shutting down and the brain tries to help us by forgetting.

I remember and feel everything. It can be a blessing and a curse. It is also possibly why I decided to have only two children and why I will do anything I can to protect them from undue stress and pain. Recently, as a family, we have had to walk alongside our children on a horrendous path which they kept silent about for a long period of time, hoping to protect us or themselves. This didn’t happen. We are exhausted, medicated, raw, and in pain, but have learned the lesson. Somehow, it feels like we have all been through it, but we are taking all that anger and hurt and using it to stand up for ourselves and others.

What is the definition of bullying?

The National definition for Australian schools says:
Bullying is an ongoing and deliberate misuse of power in relationships through repeated verbal, physical, and/or social behaviour that intends to cause physical, social, and/or psychological harm. It can involve an individual or a group misusing their power…over one or more persons who feel unable to stop it from happening.  Bullying can happen in person or online…Bullying behaviour is repeated, over time (for example, through sharing of digital records).  Bullying of any form or for any reason can have immediate, medium, and long-term effects on those involved, including bystanders.

It is worthwhile to point out this common misconception that: Single incidents, conflict, or fights between equals, whether in person or online, are not defined as bullying.

I’m currently selling off my children’s school uniforms, backpacks, ties, hats, swimwear, and sports gear, for a fraction of their original cost. As I hand over the small bundles of shirts and bags, to other mothers, it feels like I am selling off my daughters’ body parts after death. The grief is a weight. As a family, we had so many aspirations for the girls at high school. None of them were academic, they were all based around friendship and integration into the local community.

In my previous career, I was often told to keep my head down in meetings, not to say what was on my mind, don’t speak up, out, buck the system, or eye roll. I used to draw pictures of those people in meetings, marking their faces with deep lines, sketching in horns and fangs. I was unable to voice my opinion because I was the minority, too emotional, or oppositional, and I shouldn’t rock the boat. I was placated with archaic phrases like ‘big ships take a long time to turn’, ‘we can’t change the system, this is just how it is,’ and the worst phrase which I refuse to accept, ‘it is what it is ‘.

Let me say, it has been refreshing to work for myself. There is no one to shush me, and I will speak up. I don’t care how big your fucking ship is. Kids are being harassed on and offline, beaten up, assaulted, raped, turning to drugs to escape the torment, and suiciding. I will not be silenced. I will bang on about this until policies are revised and updated, until schools and boards take accountability, and until parents and kids understand the consequences. I will no longer advise my children and others to ignore or block cyber cowards. Once blocked, evidence is lost, and the evidence, I have discovered is the key. I will support young people to name these bullies, because I know how to do that now.

Types of bullying

The National Centre against bullying identifies 5 types of bullying:

1. Physical – including damage to property
2. Verbal – name-calling, insults, and verbal abuse
3. Covert bullying – spreading rumours or damaging reputation
4. Psychological bullying – by an individual or group
5. Cyberbullying – online harassment, menacing or abuse

Current practice for some schools around cyberbullying is, if it’s not sent on a school device or out of school hours, it’s not their problem. This get-out-of-jail-free card did not sit well with me. To me, students have behavioural expectations in and out of uniform. The kids being hassled after school must front up every day and face these tormentors. I researched some school policies, which in fact had quite a few pages about online harassment and cyberbullying basically suggesting it was not kind. Do you know what else it is? Illegal.

I know this because I popped into the police station after a trip to Aldi one Sunday. I sat in the car park thinking “Am I that parent?” then on reflection of the trauma, I had seen both in my own children and families coming in for therapy who have been told both face-to-face and online “you are a slut/bitch/whore/weirdo,” or “go kill yourself,” I decided I was. After watching my kids experience the emotional and psychological stress, school refusal and withdrawal, the academic and social impacts, the light going out of their eyes, and their confidence shattered, I decided I am that parent, I am that mother and I am that therapist. I will advocate for those who feel powerless, diminished, crushed, and unable to speak. After hearing about and knowing kids who have hung themselves, jumped off rooves, overdosed, and died in single-vehicle accidents, or farming accidents, you bet, I am that person, and I want to talk about it.

Some of the signs your child may be being bullied

• Social anxiety, not wanting to go to shopping centres or into the local community for fear of running into bullies
• Changes in eating or sleeping – sleeping more, eating less, eating more, sleeping less
• Health problems, headaches, or stomach aches
• Unhappiness, tearfulness, mood swings, temper tantrums, quick to anger
• Reluctance to go to school, changes in academic performance

I grew up, in the dark ages according to my kids. They once asked me if I rode in a horse and cart to school. So apparently being born last century makes me a peasant farmer. I may not have had apps and facetime, but I did have to remember my PIN number, the combination lock on my bike, and my friends’ phone numbers off by heart. What I didn’t realise then, amongst all my teenage angst, was how simple it was, if I did’t want to take a call or speak to anyone I didn’t have to. I unwound by flicking on the radio or listening to a mixtape. The most stressful part of my afternoon was having mum interrupt me taping a Clash song from the radio, to call me for dinner, or the tape getting caught and mangled and having to patiently roll it back in with my Bic biro. Unless someone literally knocked on my front door, they couldn’t get to me.

I remember the names of the two boys who picked on me relentlessly in Year 6 even though I was the principal’s daughter, seems I was not off-limits. I googled them both once in a fit of pique, happy to see one had disappeared entirely and the other was still in the same small town with a menial job. I felt vindicated. Ignoring behaviour does not mean it is forgotten. The repercussions of bullying are long-lasting. I still remember the hurt and isolation, forty years on.

Immediate intervention punishing the bullies does not heal the damage or take away the threat. The nervous system continues to stay on high alert and in stress mode. This can also become triggered and reactivated in future high-stress situations causing feelings of inadequacy, and thoughts of “I’m dumb, I’m ugly, Nobody likes me, or I’m not good enough,” re-emerging throughout adulthood.

I have worked in counselling sessions with adults still impacted by harassment from students in high school.  The repercussions of bullying can be felt long after the abuse has stopped. Bullying can result in substance abuse, self-harm, promiscuity, illness, social withdrawal, relationship breakups, unemployment, and sometimes suicide.

What are the school’s obligations?

• Let the student know of a bullying contact person
• Offer support strategies for individuals experiencing bullying, outline what will happen next
• Report to appropriate staff members such as Dept. Head of Middle School, Head of Middle School
• Deliver appropriate support and consequences for students who behave inappropriately
• Provide preventative strategies
• Ensure not to model bullying behaviour in interactions with students

The thing is, if you’ve never experienced bullying, and are not familiar with reporting procedures, you may not know how to book an appointment with the school counsellor, psychologist or chaplain. Schools say they don’t highlight these in case it might encourage students to bully others, like talking about taboo subjects like suicide, drug-taking or sex might give people ideas. It doesn’t. It creates awareness and educates. It allows students to be proactive rather than reactive. It allows them to be responsible for their own mental health.

Bullies often get away with their menacing behaviour. Students become labelled as overly sensitive, emotional, or prone to drama. There is no other choice for the victims but to leave the school or workplace. I have witnessed this, working in schools and in small, medium, and large companies. Bullies can be protected in the workplace because they are in high-level management or are good at their job. They may be an asset to the school if they are a scholar or swim star, from an important family, or part of an educator’s family. The bullies themselves might even suggest they have been victimised.

Consequences

Many kids don’t understand the long-term repercussions of their actions.  Neurologist Dr. Daniel Siegel suggests the adolescent brain is not fully developed, high-level executive functioning does not happen until after the age of 25 or, sometimes closer to 30 years of age. Young people do not have the capacity to fully comprehend the consequences. They are unable to be reflective, to pause and think, and the risk often outweighs the punishment. They do not see the extent of the damage or the greater picture.

Then there is the question of what happens to these pests and menaces, after the punishment, the dressing down, or disciplinary action? What do they do with their displaced anger? How are they able to express their rage about life, or their own pressure to perform? Do they move on to attack someone else, perhaps in their own family or outside their small community, do they become cyber menaces? Where in the policy does it suggest both victim and bully need support rather than further bullying by the institution, in the shape of punishment or shaming. This has to be addressed. Very often, acting out, behavioural problems, and anger hint at a deeper underlying sadness, fear, shame or trauma. Where is the empathy for the angry person? It seems we further bully the individual to stop them from bullying. This often makes them stop, but it doesn’t diffuse their anger, it can often incite more.

In his latest book Brainstorm, Dr. Daniel Siegel explains that between the ages of twelve and twenty-four, the brain changes in important and, at times, challenging ways. According to Siegel, during adolescence, we learn vital skills, such as how to leave home and enter the larger world, connect deeply with others, and safely experiment and take risks. As parents, we need to ensure these connections are respectful and kind and the risks are safe.

What can I do as a student or parent?

1. Report it. Put this in writing, stymie it anonymously if your school has this system. Ask someone else to do it for you if you are worried about being called a dobber or snitch. Once it is emailed you have a date, timeline, and history of harassment. Remember, bullying is not a one-off comment, it is repeated, harmful and menacing.
2. Collect evidence. Save screenshots. Tell your parents, a therapist, or a trusted adult. Keep a record of dates in your school diary or notes on your phone, what was said and by whom. Name names. This will not make it worse; it will make it clear to the school what is happening so they can act upon it.
3. Copy in the Head of Year, Head of School, or Principal to ensure it is not overlooked, covered up, or disregarded. Follow up on their progress with a phone call if you don’t get a reply. Ask for a report on future actions.
4. Check the school anti-bullying policy for breaches by staff and students. What is the responsibility of the school, or staff, how have they failed in their duty of care for your child? What happened after the incident was reported? Parents and students have a right to know. Many of these policies date quickly as technology changes rapidly and these documents need to include apps that may bully by stealth like Snapchat and group shaming  via Tik Tok. Annual revisions to policies must include all emerging apps and potential cyber threats.
5. If you have evidence of cyber menacing, offensive comments, or death threats and the school will not proceed with this, go directly to the police. This is a criminal offence. Under the age of 14, a child can be called into a police station and interrogated by the police. If they are over 14 they can be charged. This charge will stay on their record as an adult. This will affect their employment status and show up in future police checks for the rest of their lives.
6. Also, if you send or receive nudes/dick pics and you are under 16 you will be charged with distribution or receiving child pornography. * This criminal charge is a big one, with lifetime employment consequences. The type that may only qualify you for a job cleaning the toilets at your old school.
7. In the state of Queensland as of July 2021, it has now become mandatory for every adult to report sexual abuse of a minor. Not just educators and health workers. Everyone can and must report if they have been told of abuse by a child under 16 or suspect abuse has occurred.

They say you have to go through it, to grow through it. As a family, we have learned many lessons. I have lost a bit of joie de vivre and hope, but by God, I will push hard to get it back and I will not be a bystander. I will do this by suggesting others speak up, report, screenshot, document, collect evidence, and demand policy changes. Because as the French say, now I’m d’un certain age (middle-aged) it feels okay to rage and roar at the system. There will be no holding my tongue, minding my manners, or suppressing my fury. I will campaign for you with clear evidence and truth. I will not be silenced or intimidated. I am fierce and protective and will stand together with those who cannot speak for themselves. I am here. I hear you.

Other support available:

• Lifeline 13 11 14
• Kid’s Helpline ( 5 – 25 years) 1800 551 800
• Suicide call back service 1300 659 467
• e-safety support website https://www.esafety.gov.au/ includes tailored support for the LGBTIQ+ community
• Police 000
• If pictures of you have been shared you can get these images taken down by contacting e-safety.gov.au.

Please share via the buttons below if this can help to support and empower other families.

Rachel Wilkinson is a holistic counsellor, parent of teenagers, and now an ABV. (Anti-bullying vigilante). She works with individuals, families, and teens to manage the stress of life. She supports people through anxiety, depression, grief, loss, communication problems, addiction, change, relationships issues, as well as bullying on and offline.

Follow this link to her website: https://bit.ly/3ATcLTV or email: info@rachelwilkinson.com.au
Phone: 040 232 9259 | To book an appointment: https://bit.ly/3dYXKWO

Photo supplied by Ellie Wilkinson

A few weeks ago, my youngest daughter and I decided to skip over to Stradbroke Island for the day. Although we live close by, it’s not a common event for us as my eldest has claimed Straddie as her spiritual home and she never really wants us tagging along.

On a day when the conditions were perfect, the eldest was spending Christmas money at Westfield and the rain had stopped, we set off. It’s a half-hour ferry trip and then a 20-minute bus ride to the beach.

The ferry leaves at five minutes to the hour, every hour. We cut it fine tearing into the car-park as the whistle was blowing and the line dwindling. I sometimes wonder how I manage to be late when I get up at 5 am. My daughter was dawdling telling me not to run as we were going to miss it. Not only do I not like being told what to do, I am also stubborn as a mule, so I sprinted to the cashier booth, with my thongs snapping and my boobs flapping around in unsupportive swimwear. My handbag was giving me body blows on one side, and with the other arm I was making mad furious beckoning motions for her to hurry up. It was 33 degrees and stinking hot at 9 am. I was swear muttering in my head and handed my credit card to the lady paying for one adult and one petulant 12-year-old child. She wandered along to join the end of the queue, eye-rolling as the last eskies and surfboards were being loaded.

The only seats left were outside, but it was a glorious day and so long as I didn’t speak or laugh too loudly, I was permitted to sit by her side. That teetering age between childhood and adulthood is a tough place for her to be. She needs me to take her places, but would prefer me not to be there. She didn’t want me touching her or making sensible suggestions about sunscreen or hats. I put on a long sleeve shirt mortifying her, but it was too hard to explain linen and breathable fibre and coverage because that would involve words. I enjoyed the view of the retreating shoreline, yachts, the splashing white foam of the wake, and imagined I was in the Whitsundays with islands and headlands in the distance. She slid a solid bottom distance away from me – pretending to be an orphan, so I could completely surrender to my FNQ fantasy, without children.

Once we arrived at Amity, there were hundreds of us and only two buses, we lined up in the sun, patiently, then were directed to the bus behind. As much as I didn’t want to board an overcrowded bus, there was no other option and no shade. I held onto a yellow strap above my head and suggested she hold the pole. I also asked her if she wanted to put her backpack on the rack with my bag. Seems the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. She firmly held on to her phone and backpack, ignoring me by looking out the window. When the bus started it bounced and she bumped into the lady beside her, I noticed her little hand crept up and quickly held onto the pole. “This is like the tube in London,” I remarked too loudly, as she inched away from me. “I always ended up being too short and with my head under someone’s armpit,” I said this mostly out of nostalgia but looked like a mad person talking to herself. We continued the trip in silence with bushfire scorched trees rushing by the window to a shrill cicada soundtrack.

The moment she leaned into my shoulder, I felt such happiness and love I wrapped my arm around her. My next thought was “This is weird,” considering how much effort she made to avoid me. I whispered into her hair. “Are you okay?” and that was when I felt her slump. She slumped and started shaking and twitching. She still held on to her phone and bag. I said to her firmly, “Drop the bag, drop the bag,” but it had already fallen to the floor with her phone. I was holding her full weight thinking she was having a heart attack or a seizure. The bus kept rolling on. I called out to a girl behind me saying “Can she please sit down?” the girl immediately jumped up, but my daughter was still lifeless and a lady was trying to hand me the backpack and phone and all I could do was look blankly at her because I was holding my child who may have fainted or died. I didn’t want to scream or panic. I quietly backed into the empty seat pulling her into my lap like a baby. I asked her to take some breaths. I pulled out my water bottle and put some water on the back of her neck. She was white. I kept asking her to breathe then she nodded and said “When do we get off?” I surprised myself as I calmly told her “It’s the next stop darling, take some deep breaths, you’ve just fainted.” Fucking hurry up and get there, driver.

We got off and although it was still hot, the fresh air and momentum of walking, slowly worked its magic and she started to feel better. We went straight to the beach for a swim. It wasn’t the plan but I needed to cool her down and hoped the water would revive her. We swam for a bit, but the current was strong, so we decided to have an early lunch. I realised the girl on the bus said, “Has she eaten?” and remembered making a fruit salad hours earlier, but she had only nibbled on two grapes before telling me she was full. Somehow, she now had room for fish and chips.

It wasn’t until we were sitting down, did I realise how full of adrenaline and relief I was. She was happily dipping her chips in aioli – she doesn’t like to scoop, and I blurted out “Shit, you scared me,” She started laughing and dismissed me for being so worried and silly about it, saying “Well, it’s not like I fainted.” We discussed what constitutes fainting and she decided it was falling backwards. I agreed that it could be, but there wasn’t room for her to do that. “Darling, you couldn’t fall because I was holding you.” She didn’t remember, she didn’t know I was talking to her she didn’t realise she had dropped her bag and phone or anything except for a whooshing sound in her ears and her eyes getting blurry.

“Oh yep, that’s a faint.” I said, scooping my chip into the sauce and watching her frown. I told her about the time I fainted at a passing out parade, (of course) and how I fell forward first, but bumped into someone in the line in front and then fell back. The Platoon leader told us later, standing in the sun in a full army uniform with boots, could induce fainting. He said wriggling the toes helped. This was entirely useless advice, post faint. I also once fainted after cutting my finger in a short-lived kitchen hand stint. I knew about the water on the neck because a quick-thinking chef applied a wet tea towel and sat me down. I decided it was important to look for cues. I realised soon after she put her head on my shoulder, when she hadn’t wanted to hug me in weeks, that was a cue.

After lunch we walked around the headland, then had one last swim before going home early, it was still screeching hot and Straddie involves lots of walking as the buses only come on the hour to meet the ferry. I noticed my thongs were starting to wear thin as I could feel rocks from the edge of the road poking through. I figured it would have been a good idea to wear sneakers and maybe a backpack would have been more practical than a big handbag with all the walking between beaches, cafes, and bus-stops. An unhelpful thought, but one I figured might help me prepare better next time.

We saw a pod of dolphins, surfing the waves, she spotted a large turtle as we rounded the bend and headed towards Main beach. The water was a deep turquoise blue with a few swimmers bobbing about in the gentle waves. The track down to the beach was steep and the sand scorching hot. I was laughing and shrieking at how hot it was to some people coming up the beach high stepping, when my foot turned on its side my thong snapped. (Let’s just clarify this here and now, by calling them flip-flops for the UK readers or Jandals for my Kiwi friends – so you know it wasn’t an undergarment malfunction). The base of the rubber footwear had split and the strap and plug came free. I picked up both thongs, squealed and ran, or as my Dad would say I “hot-footed it,” down the beach, stopping only when I reached the wet sand.

As much as it was beautiful bobbing about in the water, and my daughter had recovered, I started thinking about how I would get from the beach to the bus-stop, then limp from the bus-stop to the ferry, and struggle at the final leg from carpark to the few hundred metres where I had parked the car. It was having a good time physically, but mentally I began to panic. The sand wasn’t going to cool down, it was midday. We were sunburned already and now I had no shoes. I cursed myself for buying $5 bargain footwear from a factory outlet. Why didn’t I wear decent shoes? I started beating myself up for being an idiot with cheap shoes and nothing could be done.

As soon as we were out of the water, I looked up towards the road. It was about 30 meters up to a narrow track then  a scooch up a steep little hill, then the stairs. I quickly psyched myself up, put my head down and ran. I did not look behind me or care about my child. It was hot and I had to move fast. I was tearing along the sand when my feet hit something. Under the sand were a pair of discarded shoes. I looked around, saw no one and slipped them on. Pink leopard print slides, too big and I didn’t care. I skidded up the sand, the hill and the timber steps to the road in my borrowed shoes. When my daughter caught up, she looked at me, then down at my feet. “Where did you get those from?” she asked incredulously. I slipped the shoes off and left them at the top of the stairs. “God sent them to me,” I said, striding up the grassy hill barefoot.

We managed to make it home, me limping on the damaged thongs to the bus, then the ferry, wishing I packed emergency gaff tape, or another pair of shoes, knowing it was futile thinking. We overcame adversity and we made it, with some kind strangers and miraculous shoes, everything turned out fine. I sat on the ferry home and put my arm around my kid. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t die and neither did I. We were salty, sun-soaked, and serene. I was grateful for the goddess who left the leopard print slides behind and the girl who surrendered her bus seat. I was happy with the kindness and unexpected miracles of the world.

When I reflect on this, I see two things, cues and shoes. The cues are the things that indicate something may go wrong, and the shoes are the supports we can put in place in case we need them. Now I know she is a fainter, I will be aware that the combination of a hot day, crowded space, and no food, are some indicators that things could go badly for her. They are the cues I need to look for. I think about the work I do, the importance of asking for help, the kindness of strangers, and looking for cues.

This week, I have worked with two families who have been impacted by suicide and have been left behind devastated. I’ve spoken with another who wanted to leave. I’m now aware of the need to watch for clues, any small indicators to know our friends or family are not okay, the small hints they may give, by withdrawing, giving away personal items, losing or gaining weight, changes in mood or sleep, or any behaviour that doesn’t seem normal for them. Please check in with friends, family, and loved ones, be the shoulder to lean on, the emotional support they need, or the pink leopard print slides, because once they go, we are the ones left behind, holding all that useless love.

For a full list click here to go to Beyond Blue

Rachel Wilkinson is a holistic counsellor, massage therapist, reiki master and a kids’ yoga teacher. She is currently a masters student but most importantly a mother and a friend.

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One of my clients recently suggested I write a blog about the different therapies which have been of benefit to them over the last few years. We decided to have an interview style format describing how the range of therapies worked together, from a holistic perspective. The interview is not completely word for word, as this was a chat during a massage, so it is recorded as I remember it. Some of the words are taken from text messages and conversations we have had during sessions. This blog has been a collaboration with my client (de-identified as C) and this person has approved content. I am grateful to them for sharing these reflections.

R: So, you had reiki the other day, a massage today, some counselling a few weeks ago and I’ve also had your partner come a few times for couples counselling. I must be doing something right?

C: Don’t forget I also did the walking talking therapy!

R: Oh yes! You were my first one.

C: That was such a hot day but we walked all the way to the beach and talked a lot!

R: How was the reiki?

C: I got sore legs, but I have chronic pain and that was acting up that day. I did feel really relaxed though. I liked it, I’ll have another session.

R: We will just make sure you are really comfy and pop a pillow under your legs. Does massage help with the chronic pain?

C: Yes, I always feel better after your massages, much lighter.

R: So how’s the one on one counselling been for you, we’ve been doing it for a while now? What have you noticed that has changed in your life?

C: Well, after I talked about all the every day things and my work and all the things that was going on for me every week; it got better when I finally was able to talk about my own stuff.

R: So, once we developed a relationship of trust and I got to know you better, you felt more comfortable to go into some deeper personal stories?

C: Yeah – I really felt better after that. Only my family knows all of those things so it was good to tell someone who didn’t judge or criticise me or think I was crazy.

R: Do you feel like now you have been able to talk more about your past, you can approach the future differently now?

C: Well, I once had a psychiatrist or psychologist tell me I would always be a drug addict and never get better and that I would be a burden on everyone in my life.

R: Is that true?

C: No. I’m not a burden, or a drug addict.

R: No you’re not! You have finished your studies and enrolled in more. You have raised your children and help care for others.  I don’t believe you are a burden.

C: No, I’m not.

R: What about the couples counselling? How was that for you both?

C: Can I ask – are we the only gay couple you see for counselling?

R: Let me think, I have a few gay clients, and some have bought their partners in a few times as well. You guys are just like everyone else, just people having a relationship. I also see mother/daughters’, dads/sons and families. Anyone who is having a relationship with each other.

C: I really liked the couple sessions. It gave me some courage to say things knowing you were there to support us. It gave us a lot to talk about on the way home in the car.

R: That’s great. It’s been wonderful to witness your growth as a person and in relationship.

C: You remember how for a long time you kept asking me “what I do for me, what do I for myself that gives me time out – what I enjoy just for me?” Well I come here. To this room.  It’s my time, to vent, swear, cry, talk or have a massage. This is for me. I’d be lost without you.

R: Oh thank you for hanging out with me! I remember the first day I met you and you had a football jersey on and I thought. “Oh shit, I know nothing about football, this won’t go very far!”

C: And now you know heaps!

R: I know so much more about so many things after meeting you.

C: Thank you – you are so caring, supportive and non-judgmental – you have helped me a lot.

R: Thank you – for teaching me so much.

Rachel Wilkinson is a Counsellor, Massage therapist and Reiki Master at Wello Well. She offers counselling in the Redland and Bayside areas of Brisbane for individuals, families, couples and youth as well as remedial massage and reiki. She works from rooms in Wellington Point as well as Redland City Boxing in Cleveland. She is currently studying her Masters of Counselling and has become very adept at using a wide array of distraction techniques to avoid the large amount of weekly reading required. She is also available for Skype/Zoom and remote sessions.