My Story

My adoptive mother, Joan M. Doniger, was ahead of her time in many ways. As a single person she adopted my sister in 1968 and me two years later. My sister and I are both mixed race women. Joan was a White Jewish woman. She was considered a pioneer and a trailblazer in the world of mental health in the 1960s and 1970s. She founded one of the first psychiatric halfway houses in the United States in 1958 (Woodley House). Tragically, she was killed in a car accident in New York City in 1972 when I was not even three years old.

My sister and I were raised by our maternal aunt and uncle (Joan’s eldest sister and brother-in-law). My father/uncle and I were extremely close. He was my most secure attachment figure after Joan died. Yet, when I was twelve years old (just starting 7th grade), he nearly died after suffering a massive stroke. He survived the stroke but was forever compromised -- physically and emotionally. 

Joan’s death and my father’s near-death experience have informed my thoughts and feelings about life and death more than any other experiences I have had in life. While I have no "explicit memory" of Joan her robust community of family and friends have shared many meaningful stories about her throughout my life.  I have been able to create and maintain a continuing bond with Joan since I was a young girl.

My father died thirteen years after his massive stroke. Those thirteen years while grueling were also years I was able to witness and observe his emotional strength and courage as well as his undying love for me, my mother/aunt, and for all of our family.

In my mid-thirties, I decided to become a therapist, in part, to honor my father and to put into practice all that I have learned from him.