Voices from McClendon Center: Q&A with Margaret de Pont

A Conversation with Margaret de Pont, Mental Health Therapist
Individual counseling is one of the most personal forms of care McClendon Center offers, and for a period during and after the pandemic, access to it was significantly disrupted. That’s changing.
Margaret de Pont is one of two new therapists who have recently joined the team as part of a deliberate effort to restore and expand that access. A graduate of George Washington University’s Clinical Mental Health Counseling program, Margaret came to DC by way of Vermont, Wisconsin, and nearly five years in international development — including work on the mental health side of refugee resettlement that fundamentally shaped how she thinks about culture, language, and care.
We sat down with her recently, coincidentally during National Counseling Awareness Month, to talk about the road that brought her here, what she’s seeing and hearing from clients right now, and how she draws inspiration from the McClendon Center community.
Your background before McClendon Center is pretty wide-ranging. Can you walk us through how you got here?
It’s a winding one. I grew up in Massachusetts, studied French and international relations in Vermont, and then spent time teaching English on a small island in the Indian Ocean. After that, I did a master’s program in Wisconsin, conducted entirely in French, with an international development focus. While there, I interned with an organization providing mental health support to newly resettled refugees, which taught me a lot about navigating complex systemic constraints while providing client-centered care. I was also working with a really great therapist of my own.
Those experiences opened something up for me.
I moved to DC to pursue my master’s in clinical mental health counseling at GW. I also got a job working full time in international development. I had always planned to shift into the mental health space after graduating, at least until I completed my licensure hours. I imagined the transition would be more gradual, but with all the changes in federal funding we saw last year, I ended up losing my job alongside a lot of my international development colleagues.
At the same time, I was completing a clinical internship at another community mental health organization in DC. That experience affirmed how much I love working with this population and so finding an opening at McClendon felt like a really fortunate turn.
It might not be obvious to most people how international development connects to community mental health. Do you see a link?
I see it constantly. So much of my perspective and approach to counseling comes from my experience living in different countries, speaking another language, and working across cultures. It gives me a framework to understand the role of systems, culture and identity within the mental health space – how people describe their experiences, where they feel it in their bodies, what words they reach for or avoid.
In refugee resettlement work, we were taught to talk about mental health without using clinical language – because it didn’t always translate across cultures. Instead of naming anxiety, we might ask about someone having too many thoughts in their head or explore more somatic symptoms like muscle tension, an upset stomach, or racing heart. That approach has stayed with me and informs how I work with clients here.
And then there’s the logistical piece. Working in international development, I’ve provided project management support to teams around the world, balancing donor expectations with realities on the ground. I know it’s a different context, but it helps me understand how a place like McClendon operates, and where I fit within it. I thrive in collaborative, care-coordination environments, and community mental health is exactly that.
What are you seeing and hearing from clients right now? Are there themes that feel particularly present?
There’s a lot. The pandemic left behind unresolved grief that I don’t think has fully surfaced for many people – not just the losses, but the disorientation of that period. For some clients, current stressors are activating that. When something in the present feels threatening or unpredictable, it can resurface older experiences of loss, fear, or persecution in ways that are very real and very immediate.
We also see an increase in mania and suicidality each Spring. For some clients in recovery, warmer weather can bring about additional concerns surrounding substance use.
Beyond that, clients are navigating changes to Medicaid and insurance coverage, a difficult job market, housing uncertainty, and concerns about personal safety. For clients who are exploring aspects of their identity, especially those accessing gender affirming care, this is an especially difficult moment.
That sounds like heavy work. How do you sustain yourself in it?
I think there’s an assumption that doing this kind of work means spending your day absorbing other people’s pain and walking out depleted. And sure, some days are heavy, but I genuinely don’t experience it like that. There are so many moments of joy and connection – celebrating client wins, hearing about their pets, laughing at something completely unexpected. When someone tells me they can finally see a future for themselves, even if it feels scary because now they have to plan for it – that’s not draining. It’s a part of the work that feels incredibly meaningful.
I’ve also invested in my own process. I’ve been in therapy myself and learned to recognize when something is coming up for me in my own body. I have supervisors I trust and the team at McClendon has been welcoming since day one, which matters more than people might realize.
I get to hear, through the work, how much our colleagues mean to clients. Our office coordinator is an example – clients tell me in session how much it means to see a familiar, warm face at the front desk when they walk in.
Sometimes that’s what gets them through the door on a hard day.
Is there something you wish the broader community better understood about living with serious mental illness?
I think we sometimes underestimate not only the reality of serious mental illness, but the amount of effort it takes for our clients to live with it every day. The people we work with are not choosing these experiences; they’re doing the best they can with symptoms and life circumstances that can be extremely difficult to manage. And they’re often just as frustrated as the people around them – sometimes more so.
I also think there’s a tendency to group everyone with serious mental illness into one big category and project a lot onto that. The reality is much more nuanced. Everyone experiences mental health, and our clients are still whole people, often living full lives, despite their diagnosis.
The people I work with are incredibly resourceful and resilient. Many have been navigating complex lives, largely on their own,for a long time. I see them for an hour every week. The other 167 hours, they’re doing that themselves. And so, I try to keep that in perspective.
There’s been a lot of conversation lately about AI and mental health — people turning to chatbots for support, even therapy. What’s your take?
I hesitate around AI therapy. I think there’s a world in which it can be a supportive addition to treatment for some people. I’ve had clients talk about using it between sessions to brainstorm activities or provide validation. And I think, depending on the client, there can be a lot of value in that. I’d just be cautious about the idea that AI can fully replace therapists.
A huge part of the healing process,especially for people working through complex trauma, comes from actually being in relationship with another person.
So much of therapy happens in that space: navigating rupture and repair, practicing vulnerability, experiencing consistent attunement and boundaries from another human. I don’t think AI can replicate that. And that’s not a small thing to lose.
McClendon Center has served the Washington, DC community since 1980, providing integrated behavioral health care to individuals living with serious mental illness and co-occurring substance use disorders.

