Registered Play Therapist™

I am a Registered Play Therapist.

This sounds benign. There are a few more letters at the end of my professional signature. But, for colleagues who know me, this is a very big deal.

I have been playing with kids, therapeutically, since 1999. Play therapy works. So, I do it.

The Association for Play Therapy, founded in 1982, advances the field of play therapy and supports mental health professionals who use play to communicate with and treat clients, particularly children. The Association for Play Therapy offers a credential, the Registered Play Therapist™ credential, to therapists who demonstrate a committment to learning about, and ethically practicing, play therapy.

Though I have always been a play therapist, at varying times in my career, I have had a on-again/off-again relationship with my pursuit of the RPT™ credential. It is not easy to obtain the credential, and I have never been dazzled by the prospect of more letters after my name, but my professional identity has always been rooted in play therapy. I had a lot of feelings about the credentialing process; I would consider it, notice how arduous it can be, put it off, scorn it as unnecessary, and consider it again. My play therapy colleagues were always surprised to learn I did not have the credential and they enthusiastically encouraged me to pursue it; I often responded with a sort-of "bah humbug" about it all.

I recently realized that my intentional involvement in All Things Play Therapy unintentionally gave me all of the necessary qualifications to apply for the credential. So, I did. And, much to my surprise, APT awarded me the credential. Now, I am an official Registered Play Therapist™.

This doesn't change the way things happen in my office. These credentials don't change me or my work. They certainly have no bearing on how deeply or profoundly inspired I am about the opportunities to help children and families. They are just a few more letters.

But, in a strange way, I feel like, maybe, My People now see Me. Maybe these letters legitimize my place at the Play Therapy table. Maybe they say something... not about skill or classes or the ability to fill out an application, but about my committment- which is still as firm as it was 27 years ago- to healing through play. I can't seem to give enough time to these wonderings to settle into my soul before I shuffle into the playroom again, like I do every day, to help another child heal through play therapy.