About Brendan Turner, LCSW
My Story: Falling in Love with the Truth
Hello Village, my name is Brendan (he/him). I am a straight, cisgender, middle-income earning, graduate degree educated, white man in the United States. All but a few of my identities afford me privilege. Here is a brief version of my story.
Who I Am Today
My most important roles are being a spouse and a father to my three children; my heart is completely full because of these four people! In my professional life, I work as a therapist, a racial literacy trainer, and an affinity group facilitator. I directly run Social and Emotional Learning (SEL) groups for young people. I also train teachers and youth-facing staff on topics like child development, youth empowerment strategies, and how to build meaningful relationships with the young people they serve. I co-developed the course, Conscious Action©, to assist other white men in achieving healthy identity development. When I'm not working, I love spending time with my family, hiking and decompressing in the mountains, playing sports, reading, and relaxing.
My Early Life and Struggle
I grew up in Northern California in a home overshadowed by mental illness and addiction, often lacking the stable environment so crucial for healthy child development. Throughout my life I have struggled with hopelessness, grief, anxiety, depression, loneliness, addiction and loss. While some of these struggles occasionally resurface, I am now better equipped to manage them. The loss of my brother to addiction in my early thirties triggered a painful spiral. It was through this pain, however, and the steadfast love of my spouse, that I found my sobriety in 2008, supported by strangers who swiftly became like family.
My First Relationship with the Truth
In early sobriety, I discovered something life-changing: For the first time, I didn’t feel like I needed to be someone else. I didn’t have to hide or put up a false front. I was good enough as I was. I confronted the harm I’d caused. I walked through shame, made amends and learned to live with what couldn’t be repaired. I dared to allow myself to simply be. I found the truth and it set me free from my self imposed prison of falsehoods. I felt present, unburdened, and unashamed.
My Early Work
That experience convinced me that I wanted to leverage my privilege and my skills to create spaces where people of all ages could find their truth, their joy. After moving to New Orleans in 2011 with my now-spouse, I completed my BS in Psychology at the University of New Orleans and my Masters in Social Work at the Southern University at New Orleans. I began my career as a therapist at the Center for Resilience (CfR), a therapeutic day treatment center serving predominantly Black children with significant emotional and behavioral challenges in New Orleans. Before my first day of work, CfR sent me to Philadelphia to be trained in PLAAY—Preventing Long-Term Anger and Aggression in Youth, a culturally responsive intervention created to address unresolved racial stress in youth. Created by Dr. Howard Stevenson, clinical psychologist and leader in his field, PLAAY uses a racial literacy framework alongside sports and games to teach youth emotional regulation and healthy assertiveness. The impact was immediate and profound. Supporting children as they move from “apart from” to “a part of”—as they claim their identity, agency, and joy—remains one of the greatest privileges of my work.
My Second Relationship with the Truth
Sobriety taught me to tell the truth about myself. But PLAAY and the racial literacy work that I engaged in exposed an entirely new domain of truth-telling: My relationship with race—my race, my racial identity, my gender identity, all of my identities. I unpacked past behaviors, confronted discomfort, challenged old narratives, attempted repair, and learned to sit with what couldn’t be fixed. It was both brutal and joyful. With an intentionality to live in truth once more—I realized that this self-inventory was helping me recover parts of my humanity that had been lost. As a child, I was unconsciously molded by a system of oppression and defenseless against the falsehoods I absorbed. Now, as an adult, I have the capacity and the duty to expose this system, confront my own complicity, and acknowledge my privileged identities. This integrity has allowed me to explore the full spectrum of my humanity, bringing a newfound freedom from the falsehoods of my social conditioning. Once more I feel present, unburdened, and unashamed.
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Where I Am Now
My ongoing journey through addiction, my own identity development, my clinical experience, my role as a spouse and father has led me to a wonderfully fulfilling place of compassion, appreciation and curiosity for folks with identities different than mine and folks sharing identities like mine. Whether engaging in self exploration, training folks in PLAAY or Racial Literacy or facilitating Conscious Action©—I remain committed to a relentless and loving exploration of self
and committed to equity, inclusivity and humanity. I don’t need to arrive. Perfection is a harmful and dishonest standard, and the journey holds the rewards. I just need to move in the right direction: toward love, grace, empathy, connection, and repair. I know I’ll make mistakes. I will attempt repair where possible, live with the discomfort where it’s not, and keep moving on the path.The work continues. It always will, and I love it.
I am a spouse and a father of three—no roles matter more to me than these.
I’m a licensed clinical social worker, Executive Director of PLAAY South New Orleans, founder of With Love Consulting LLC, a racial literacy trainer, relationship and culture coach, athlete, backpacker, reader, and lounger. I work hard, play hard, and relax hard.I grew up in Northern California in a home shaped by mental illness and addiction, missing the stable environment so crucial for healthy child development. As an adult, I lost my aunt and my older brother to addiction and suicide. My brother lived with me briefly before he passed.
Throughout my life I struggled with hopelessness, grief, depression, loneliness, and addiction—until I found sobriety in 2008 with the support of strangers who quickly became family.
In early sobriety, I discovered something life-changing:
For the first time, I didn’t feel like I needed to be someone else. I didn’t have to hide.
As I confronted the harm I’d caused, made amends, walked through shame, let go of what couldn’t be repaired, and allowed myself to simply be, the truth set me free. I became present, unburdened, and unashamed.
That experience convinced me that I wanted to leverage my privilege and my skills to create spaces where people of all ages could find their truth, health, and joy.
After moving to New Orleans in 2011 with my now-spouse, I completed my BS in Psychology (UNO, 2015) and MSW (SUNO, 2017). I began my career at the Center for Resilience, a therapeutic day treatment center for children with significant emotional and behavioral challenges.
Before working a day with children, I trained in PLAAY—Preventing Long-Term Anger and Aggression in Youth. Created by Dr. Howard Stevenson, PLAAY uses sports and games to teach emotional regulation and healthy assertiveness.
The impact was immediate and profound.
Supporting children as they move from “apart from” to “a part of”—as they claim their identity, agency, and joy—remains one of the greatest privileges of my work.
Sobriety taught me to tell the truth about myself.
But PLAAY, SUNO, and racial literacy work exposed an entirely new domain of truth-telling:
My relationship with race—my race, my racial identity, my gender identity.
I unpacked past behaviors, confronted discomfort, challenged old narratives, attempted repair, and learned to sit with what couldn’t be fixed. It was often brutal—and also joyful. I felt freed again.
I realized that this truth-telling process was helping me recover parts of my humanity that had been lost. As a child, I wasn’t responsible for the socialization of white supremacy. As an adult, though I considered myself one of the “good white folks,” I was responsible for my complicity and avoidance.
The work continues. It always will.
Whether at SUNO (an HBCU), through PLAAY training with Dr. Stevenson, facilitating alongside Nicole McGill, working with Lion’s Story, or engaging in Conscious Action work with Andrew Knips—I remain committed to a relentless and loving interrogation of self.
I don’t need to arrive. I just need to move in the right direction: toward love, empathy, connection, and repair.
I know I’ll make mistakes. I will attempt repair where possible, live with the discomfort where it’s not, and keep moving on the path.
Because I’ve fallen in love with the truth.
Because I’ve fallen in love with my story—even the messy parts.
That’s why.
.jpeg)
I am a spouse and a father of three—no roles matter more to me than these.
I’m a licensed clinical social worker, Executive Director of PLAAY South New Orleans, founder of With Love Consulting LLC, a racial literacy trainer, relationship and culture coach, athlete, backpacker, reader, and lounger. I work hard, play hard, and relax hard.I grew up in Northern California in a home shaped by mental illness and addiction, missing the stable environment so crucial for healthy child development. As an adult, I lost my aunt and my older brother to addiction and suicide. My brother lived with me briefly before he passed.
Throughout my life I struggled with hopelessness, grief, depression, loneliness, and addiction—until I found sobriety in 2008 with the support of strangers who quickly became family.
In early sobriety, I discovered something life-changing:
For the first time, I didn’t feel like I needed to be someone else. I didn’t have to hide.
As I confronted the harm I’d caused, made amends, walked through shame, let go of what couldn’t be repaired, and allowed myself to simply be, the truth set me free. I became present, unburdened, and unashamed.
That experience convinced me that I wanted to leverage my privilege and my skills to create spaces where people of all ages could find their truth, health, and joy.
After moving to New Orleans in 2011 with my now-spouse, I completed my BS in Psychology (UNO, 2015) and MSW (SUNO, 2017). I began my career at the Center for Resilience, a therapeutic day treatment center for children with significant emotional and behavioral challenges.
Before working a day with children, I trained in PLAAY—Preventing Long-Term Anger and Aggression in Youth. Created by Dr. Howard Stevenson, PLAAY uses sports and games to teach emotional regulation and healthy assertiveness.
The impact was immediate and profound.
Supporting children as they move from “apart from” to “a part of”—as they claim their identity, agency, and joy—remains one of the greatest privileges of my work.
Sobriety taught me to tell the truth about myself.
But PLAAY, SUNO, and racial literacy work exposed an entirely new domain of truth-telling:
My relationship with race—my race, my racial identity, my gender identity.
I unpacked past behaviors, confronted discomfort, challenged old narratives, attempted repair, and learned to sit with what couldn’t be fixed. It was often brutal—and also joyful. I felt freed again.
I realized that this truth-telling process was helping me recover parts of my humanity that had been lost. As a child, I wasn’t responsible for the socialization of white supremacy. As an adult, though I considered myself one of the “good white folks,” I was responsible for my complicity and avoidance.
The work continues. It always will.
Whether at SUNO (an HBCU), through PLAAY training with Dr. Stevenson, facilitating alongside Nicole McGill, working with Lion’s Story, or engaging in Conscious Action work with Andrew Knips—I remain committed to a relentless and loving interrogation of self.
I don’t need to arrive. I just need to move in the right direction: toward love, empathy, connection, and repair.
I know I’ll make mistakes. I will attempt repair where possible, live with the discomfort where it’s not, and keep moving on the path.
Because I’ve fallen in love with the truth.
Because I’ve fallen in love with my story—even the messy parts.
That’s why.
Why I Do This Work
Because I’ve fallen in love with the truth.
Because I’ve fallen in love with my story—even the messy parts.
That’s why.