Today we’d like to introduce you to Angela Caldwell.
Hi Angela, we’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
Every time I stop what I’m doing to examine my path so far, I see so many disjointed experiences and influences that I wonder whether I come across to people as some kind of cut-and-paste kindergarten collage. In my story, there’s a border town, competitive tennis, Catholic school, Mount Everest, political protests, a federal indictment, film school, a horse ranch, and boatloads of post-apocalyptic fiction. And somehow, out of all that, I emerged as a family therapist and coach. Insane, right?
I suppose my story begins in El Paso, Texas. Growing up in a border town means you can’t see the border, so my entire childhood took place in a true melting pot of brown and white, where everyone spoke fluent English and Spanish, and Mexican food was simply called “food.” Average daytime temperatures are regularly above 100 in the summer, so tumbleweed and dry heat are a way of life. There’s a big tennis community in El Paso since football and basketball don’t get the same booster dollars in a poor town, so we all grew up on the cracked courts in the scorching heat, hoping for a shot at a college scholarship. My coach was uncompromising (all the coaches were) and demanded greatness on and off the court. The only break we got from high-pressure sports was on Sunday, when the streets were empty because the entire city was at mass at one of the billions of Catholic churches, that is, until about 1 pm when the public parks were overrun by enormous family gatherings and the aroma of carne asada.
My early education took place at St. Patrick’s Elementary School, where we wore uniforms, stood up for adults when they entered the room and went to chapel every Wednesday. I spent my high school years at Loretto Academy–an all-girls prep school with more uniforms, more nuns, and a very cool sense of female empowerment. It was here that I was directed to be strong-willed, independent, and demanding of the world around me. Those nuns were a powerful influence on our young minds. They abided no excuses and had eyes only for our potential. They pushed us–hard–toward excellence and achievement, demonstrating how relentlessly they believed in us with every word and deed. Every time I reunite with a former classmate, I see in her the same tenacity I have in my own heart, and I am reminded of those fierce sisters.
The next chapter would have to be Los Angeles. At 19 years old, after a disappointing first year of college tennis, I left my scholarship behind and came out here with a hunger for cinematic fame and glory–only to find out that everyone else did, too. After graduation from film school, I realized that I did not have nearly the talent nor the connections required for success in filmmaking and decided to leave behind yet another dream. But my time in Hollywood had provided a hidden opportunity: While working on set, I discovered that I was really good at people. Like, really, really good. It became a joke among my coworkers that it would be a matter of days before I would become the go-to for panicking crew members, interpersonal conflict between actors, and peace treaties between directors and producers. I was nicknamed “set mom” (and eventually, I answered my proverbial calling).
After abandoning all hope of ever holding an Oscar, I changed course completely and went to grad school for psychology. And what a profoundly life-changing chapter this was! It was here that I confronted deeply rooted childhood traumas. It was here that I admitted my internal biases and prejudices. It was here that I took responsibility for my own flaws and deficits and learned that the path toward inner peace is long, difficult, sometimes painful, and always worth it.
I took second looks at the people who had influenced my life: My mountaineering father, who attempted the Seven Summits, allowing me to accompany him to perilous heights, all the while surviving a government attack on his business and character. My devoutly religious mother whose commitment to piety, neighborly hospitality, and a beautifully decorated and organized home afforded me free classes on becoming a female force of nature. The nuns. My coaches. Grad school professors. Professional mentors. Each of these powerful people guided me down a path that has landed at something called family therapy. Each of them showed me different parts of my core that seemed to be rooted in the importance of strong family ties and a fierce commitment to “winning”–in this case, defeating old pains and wounds that divide families into factions and bringing them back together.
I’m a mother myself now and a wife too. So much of my professional identity is reflected in my home, and vice versa. I work hard to walk the talk, and I feel responsible to my family and my clients in a way that feels right, even if it comes with the old pressure I used to feel in sports. But I like it. It feels good to have found my place in the world and see it reflected in almost everything I do. I still have my Texas spunk, and it serves me well in a room full of fighting family members. (You can take the girl out of Texas…) I still speak “Catholish” which helps me navigate some of life’s more dangerous passages. I even found my way back to the courts and never did give up my film-nerd obsession with movies, so in a way, I’m still the same border town girl I always was, just with a few more wrinkles, a few more grey hairs, and now with a clear and defined purpose.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not, what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
I was surprised at how much of an obstacle my pregnancies and childbirth presented. I assumed that in a field filled with compassionate and empathetic experts of human development, especially one that is female-dominated, my hiatus from work would not only be completely understood but welcomed and maybe even applauded. Instead, I came back from each of my maternity leaves to find that I had been almost forgotten. Even when I spent weeks announcing my eventual return to my colleagues, there were crickets where there used to be referrals. It took months for my phone to start ringing again, and when it did, people seemed surprised that I had returned to work. A few even appeared to view me in a more negative light, and I stopped getting referrals from them. It was an awakening. I had to grimly accept that traditional gender roles and people’s expectations that I would observe them were still a part of a field I had long revered as progressive and open-minded.
Appreciate you sharing that. What else should we know about what you do?
I am the Founder and Director of the Caldwell Family Institute, which is essentially a group of highly talented family therapists and coaches providing counseling to families who need it. The therapy field saw a flood of mental health problems emerge during COVID, and family therapy was no exception. In fact, the pandemic actually served as a sort of expectorant for families struggling with old resentments, and all kinds of emotional wars broke out in homes across the country. In a way, we were grateful for this because it meant that lots of families became aware of unresolved conflicts that were the source of so much distress among family members. We have done some of our best work during and since COVID, as more and more people are realizing the importance of tolerating one another if we want to remain civilized and–the dream–enjoy our family members despite personality differences, voting preferences, or bad manners.
I also lecture at California State University Northridge and provide professional trainings to new and seasoned family therapists. I’m interested in expanding the family therapy field, especially now, when I feel strongly that family bonds are needed more than ever. I regularly mentor incoming therapists and offer consultations to colleagues for difficult family dynamics in my relentless hope that if we can create healthier families, we can solve so much of the world’s problems. Everything starts with the family. Everything we are is rooted in our families. The decisions we make in our work, in our social circles, online, in the marketplace, and in global politics comes down to what we were taught by our families. I believe firmly and stubbornly that if we can go to the source–build healthy, strong, and vital families–we can have an incredibly positive ripple effect across the world.
Is there something surprising that you feel even people who know you might not know about?
I’m obsessed with post-apocalyptic fiction. People are always surprised by this because I tend to be exceedingly hopeful and optimistic–almost annoyingly so. Post-apocalyptic fiction is a pretty grim genre, but I absolutely love it. I think what appeals to me is the notion that once the world has ended, and there’s no more money, no more careers, no more government, and the playing field is absolutely leveled, it all comes down to who you really are on the inside. I love the idea of someone’s true character being revealed once they are stripped of all the comforts and masks of our current world. After the apocalypse, all that’s left of you are your values and convictions, and whatever you do with those reveals what you’re truly made of. I love that.
Contact Info:
- Website: www.caldwellfamilyinstitute.com
