Twenty-seven years ago, Lorice Parker made a decision that would alter the trajectory of not only her life but the lives of countless others. Fresh out of undergraduate school with a degree in English and a minor in psychology, she had dreams of becoming a writer. Yet somehow, almost inexplicably, she found herself applying to graduate school for social work.

“I don’t know exactly how or why I applied,” Parker reflects. “But looking back, I tell people that all the time it was probably meant to be.”

Since earning her social work degree in 1997, Parker has spent nearly three decades working in various facets of social work, with the last 15 years dedicated specifically to therapy. Her journey from aspiring writer to celebrated therapist wasn’t a carefully plotted path; it was a calling she couldn’t ignore.

Much of Parker’s early career was spent in child welfare, where she witnessed firsthand the devastating impact of broken family systems and, more importantly, how the system itself often contributed to the problem by systematically excluding fathers.

“I’ve seen the brokenness of families through that experience,” Parker reflects. “And even the evolution of it all—how we place more emphasis on fathers now, especially in the African American community. Because before then, you know, we acted like it didn’t take two people to make a baby. And a lot of times fathers were left out, not because they wanted to be, but because the system left them out.”

Over the past decade, Parker has observed a crucial shift. There’s now greater recognition that children need active role models, starting with their biological connections. This awareness has profoundly shaped her therapeutic approach.

Even though she now exclusively works with adults and couples, Parker always explores the father-daughter or father-son relationship with her clients.

“I’ve seen that a lot of adults, especially females, have daddy issues because fathers haven’t been included in their lives,” Parker explains. “So even if a woman comes to me just for depression or anxiety, I ask about the relationship she had with her father or that her children have with their father. I see the importance. I see how it impacts adults even now. Keeping that conversation in the forefront is extremely important.”

In March of 2020, the world was hit with a pandemic that claimed the lives of many and the minds of most. If there’s a silver lining to the COVID-19 pandemic, Parker believes it’s the way it forced people, particularly in the Black community, to confront their mental health in ways they never had before.

“When COVID hit, that’s when my passion for mental health therapy really took root,” Parker reflects. “A lot of my clients came as a result of COVID.”

What she witnessed was profound and heartbreaking. People who had built their entire sense of identity and validation around external factors, their jobs, their titles, their daily routines, suddenly found themselves stripped of those anchors.

“For the African American population I work with, a lot of it was about going into the job every day, validating them, dressing up,” Parker explains. “I had people who were vice presidents and presidents of organizations. They were saying that going in and dressing up was validation; it made them feel important.”

But when COVID hit, and they had to stay home, everything changed.

“They recognized how empty they were and how they had to deal with themselves on such different levels,” Parker says. “COVID opened up the door for people, especially African Americans, to feel like, ‘You know what, talking to somebody who’s not invested in me can be helpful.'”

The shift was significant and undeniable. Historically, the Black community, particularly Black women, has operated from a position of strength at all costs, carrying everyone else’s burdens while ignoring their own.

“That historical stance, especially for women, we’re strong, we can solve everybody else’s problems, but we’re not dealing with our own,” Parker observes. “COVID forced us to confront that.”

She’s committed to helping clients bridge their painful past and hopeful present. She’s witnessed the evolution of family systems, the crucial inclusion of fathers, and the gradual breaking down of mental health stigma in the Black community.

And through it all, she remains anchored in the original calling she didn’t quite understand when she applied to social work school all those years ago.

“It was probably meant to be,” she reflects.