Fordham Spearheads New Couch Psychology Practice

With a service found at no other college, students can now spill their guts at every bathroom in Lowenstein

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GRACE GETMAN

The 9th-floor bathroom psychologist will see you now.

By CLARA GERLACH

With an increasingly larger number of people on campus, Fordham has found itself in a pickle. Thousands of students flooded the Lincoln Center campus, and after the last year and a half, more of them than ever are struggling with their mental health

While Counseling and Psychological Services (CPS) at Fordham may be in operation, some students have found it difficult to relate to the staff available. “Frankly, they’re millennials,” one sophomore stated when asked about their experience at CPS. “And I don’t need to hear Harry Potter references while I cry about my trauma.”

Students’ mental health is important to Fordham — if a student drops out because of a mental health risk, the school could lose out on tuition. To address these issues, Fordham Lincoln Center has abandoned the idea of increased CPS funding and turned to its students. Last week, Lincoln Center rolled out a beta version of a program it hopes to launch on all three campuses. 

Starting Oct. 6, one can get free advice from a budding psychology major on the couches of the women’s Lowenstein bathrooms weekdays from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Only walk-ins are accepted for now, but this might change with the demand, as lines are already forming for consults parallel to the line for the bathroom.

Unlike contested armchair psychology, couch psychologists use knowledge they gained from their Introduction to Psychology class or TikTok, acting much like a good friend comforting you when you’re having a bad day. After some criticism about the couches in the bathrooms, this was seen to be the solution: an amateur psych practice. 

“It’s really genius,” Fordham College at Lincoln Center Dean Laura Auricchio said. “We have all these students searching for some help coping with friendship drama and actually having to study now that they’re in person, and this gives psychology majors something to put on their resume.”

Declared and undeclared psychology or pre-med majors were incentivized to apply for positions, but priority was given to “mom friends” for all majors.

Declared and undeclared psychology or pre-med majors were incentivized to apply for positions, but priority was given to “mom friends” for all majors, verified by roommate or friend testimonials. According to the director of the program, “mom friends” are difficult to recruit as they have their own emotional burdens, but they make for the best shoulder to cry on.

The interview process was pretty straightforward, consisting of standard scenario questions followed by an average amount of trauma dumping. Applicants were judged on their ability to stay neutral, follow a snot-filled rant and ask pertinent questions, but also on their ability to diagnose their patients with anything found in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.

Training was quite rigorous for those accepted — a two-day intensive filled with pseudoscience that counselors could use at their leisure. Manifestation candles and essential oils were handed out, as sometimes problems need a little faith, magic or meditation to resolve.

This service is not confidential, as anyone can listen in as they’re waiting for the bathroom, but this has led to bonding in those small, inexplicable rooms.

Homework for the intensive was watching mental health videos on TikTok, where one could find rationalizations for the banalest actions. Feeling empathy? A trauma response. Procrastinating? ADHD. Every action has an equal and opposite mental health diagnosis.

This service is not confidential, as anyone can listen in as they’re waiting for the bathroom, but this has led to bonding in those small, inexplicable rooms. Eavesdroppers can chip in with their two cents while they wait, and if they become invested enough, find themselves a new friend. 

I caught a junior patient with smudged mascara and a big smile on her way out of the third-floor bathrooms. “I wasn’t expecting much, but I was panicking, and I had heard good things,” she said. “I’ve been convinced that I should dump my boyfriend, and I’m on my way to do that right now.”

So far, this beta program has been met with great success and is expected to run until Dec. 21.