Social Worker-That's so messed up.

Actual Good Times

2011-12-16T19:06:00.000-08:00

I'm commited to making an effort to write in this blog even when things are going well. Especially when things are going well. Work has been pretty great the last two weeks (knock on wood). It's never easy but I've been able to see some of the results of a lot of my very difficult work. I've got multiple kids in safe placements and they're actually happy to be there! YYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAYYYY. Seriously, that never happens.

I've had some EXTREMELY tough situations in the last couple of months. I mean, just gut wrenching kind of stuff. I had a kid go to the psych ward and find out about a very serious medical condition. I (along with his therapist) spent many hours listening and helping him through an insane amount of trauma that he'd experienced while being sexually exploited on the streets. It was a rough time. I literally spent Thanksgiving night in the psych ward with the kid, bringing him a plate of my families food. (pat myself on the back for being a good case worker).

A few days later another youth had a baby that was removed from her care about three days after she gave birth. That was a big ol shit storm. I was scrambling to find places to put both of these kids. A treatment placement for the young boy, and a place where the girl could be with her newborn. I was fielding frantic calls left and right. I wanted to pull my hair out. My supervisor pulled me into her office at one point and said "are you ok? I'm worried you're going to come into the office one day and just quit!" yeah it was bad. This week however everything has turned around. I got a couple of kids into our new shelter program for sexually exploited youth, I found a really good treatment center for my boy and I was able to get my other girl into a residential parenting program so that she could be with her baby. What a fucking relief. You just have no idea.

I visited the girl the day after I placed her and she said to me "You know, it's actually not that bad, I was expecting it to be a lot worse!" I just wanted to cry with relief. I'm so used to kids being so unhappy it was such an amazing high to hear something good. The boy called me from treatment "do you know they'll let me smoke here!? So awesome" which I know sounds terrible but for this kid, seriously though let him have a cig, it's the LEAST of his worries at this point.

Today I had a really good conversation with this same girl. It went a little something like this. "Well I'd like to maybe have you move into that shelter. It's a great place and they work specifically with girls who've been victims of sexual exploitation." She looks at me "well to be honest, yeah I did have something bad happen to me when i was 15 but more recently, I was the one who chose to prostitute. No one really took advantage of me." I nodded " Yeah i understand you didn't say no, but didn't you tell me that one guy actually kidnapped you and made you work?" she pauses "well yeah I guess there was that one time. That was my fault though, i was too naive. He said he wasn't a pimp and I believed him. I was stupid." I say "That was not your fault. Non of this is your fault. Even if you chose to have sex with adult men and were getting all the money, it's still their responsibility as adults to NOT have sex with you. If I went up to a 17yr old boy and he agreed to have sex with me and I did, THAT would not be okay." She smiles "yeah I guess I see your point."

About an hour after having our talk, we walk past a sleazy dude. He says "hey giiiirl, what you doing?" (keep in mind she's with me and also has her brand new baby with her!) She looks back and yells to him "excuse me?! Do you know how old I am? I'm 17 years old! I'm jail bait, now get lost." I about fell over after hearing that. I patted her on the back and said "Oh man, I'm so proud of you. That was so awesome!"

It's been a long time coming but I'm starting to build relationships with these kids and it's making the job soooo much more rewarding. For once I'm not wanting to kill myself from stress. Oh it's still stressful as HELL but at least I have the sweet kids to make me feel better about it. And they are just SOOO SWEET. I just adore them all.

Healthy amount of apathy?

2011-11-07T16:25:00.000-08:00

As usual, I'm having a hard time with work. My feelings about this job switch daily. I've really been slacking off the last week and a half or so and feeling both guilty and apathetic. I probably have more issues and families to deal with than ever before. I'm stuck in the "freeze" mode right now. I learned at a training once that we have more than two trauma responses, they aren't just fight or flight, freeze is another. I feel like that is most certainly my way of coping with difficult times, stress and anxiety lately. I rarely conjure up the "fight" mechanism but often use the "flight" mode quite a bit too. I don't even know where to begin in all my work, so I often just climb into bed and cover up with a blanket, not doing anything.

I've got so much to do at work and so many people to help but I feel a bit checked out mentally right now. I've actually felt a bit apathetic. A person can only handle so many traumatic situations without just feeling like they all sort of blur together eventually. I've stopped viewing myself as 'all saving' and have been feeling more like I'm sometimes helpful but rarely critical. I suppose that is only half true but strangely it's been bringing me a bit more comfort than feeling like I'm the only one able to help someone. I think that is the difference between who I was when I came into this field and who I am now. I don't want to be critical anymore. I don't want to be the sole person responsible for saving someone and luckily I'm not. I want to help and I want to have good relationships with the families I work with. I want to be able to offer them solutions and help them to become healthy. Lately though, I feel like I'm the one that has to do all the work and it doesn't actually seem to help. The population of girls I'm working with are just so challenging to help and I feel so bad for their families when they say "do something!" and I don't have a lot of good ideas. Unfortunately you can't lock up a kid and make their problems disappear. I have a boy on my caseload right now that is pretty sure he has HIV because he's been sleeping with multiple partners who have it. I have another youth who is transgendered and isn't able to access the appropriate mental health and drug and alcohol services because of her gender identity. My brain hurts from thinking about how I could possibly help with these issues. I just don't have the energy right now. I also got a really bitchy email from a woman who use to mentor a girl on my caseload. She accused me of being the reason that this young lady won't speak to her anymore. This woman use to drive me crazy with all of her phone calls, complaining about this girls mother and that she should not be allowed to go to her home. When she told me something concerning and I brought it up with the family, she became very upset with me. I'm sick of always having to be the bad guy. I'm sorry she won't speak to you but I'm her legal guardian and you told me something that needed to be addressed, I'm not sure how I could have avoided that.

I'm also on my period and hungover so there is that. I should should probably re-assess this when I'm thinking more clearly. I'd just like to find that place in-between totally stressing out about everything, being overly sensitive vs. being completely apathetic. I'm pretty sure that place exists but I've not yet found it.

Very Young Girls

2011-11-01T21:35:00.000-07:00

Today was a good day. I finally got to go to a training put on by GEMS and run by Rachel Lloyd. She helped make the documentary Very Young Girls. I've talked about her documentary several times. She is the reason I got into this line of work. The documentary inspired me so much that I felt the NEED to get involved. It was kind of like seeing a movie star for me, except for that she stands for something that is extremely important. In my city, it's a new issue that we're just starting to deal with. Rachel has been advocating for this issue since about 1998. She has been instrumental in educating and changing legislation regarding CSEC issues. I felt like I wanted to ask for her autograph. Very good day indeed.

A Monday

2011-10-17T23:01:00.000-07:00

It's been a busy Monday. I'm sure glad I had some energy today because I don't think I stopped working for about 9hrs without a break. I'd like to break down a day in my job, just to give an idea of how it's all spent. Some days I really wish I was just doing therapy, or working as an advocate because I think the amount of red tape is just a tad easier to deal with in those positions. I have to admit though, it feels good to be in a position of power when you know you can make a difference in the lives of girls who may not have anyone else. Anyway, I'm getting off track.

At 9am, I drove to the suburbs where I was suppose to have a treatment meeting with one of my girls, her mother, her therapist and the care coordinator from her insurance. I arrived at the address that was given to me, and they had no record of a meeting. Unfortunately I didn't have anyone's phone numbers with me to call so I turned around and drove the 25 minutes across town to my office. When I arrived, I deduced that the therapist had given me the wrong address and the care coordinator had given me a different address that was correct. Oh well.

Prior to even walking in the door, I got a text from my supervisor. "Julie's baby is getting out of the hospital. Is there a plan?" Julie is a youth that has been exploited for years and years. She recently had a baby who has been at the hospital due to being born a few months early. Julie is soft spoken, shy and a very sweet girl. I'm still building trust with her but I think for the most part she likes me and I like her. Sometimes I get jealous of people like therapists who have the time and ability to build a more substantial relationship. As my own therapist recently pointed out though, I can't be every one of their friends and that's not really my role anyway. Although Julie is certainly not at all to blame for being exploited and abused, as an agency we have to look at how this will affect her ability to keep her own child safe. It's a really tough part of the job. You have a teen who is already so traumatized, then they have a baby and are told they might not be able to keep it or that it will at the very least, go into foster care until a more safe situation can be arranged. In this circumstance the youth is currently staying in a foster home, but the foster parent works long hours and she's not always supervised. A few weeks ago she was shot-at down the road from her house. So, long story short, the worker for her own child made the decision today to put her baby in a medical foster home, until Julie is able to enter a residential program for teen Mom's. She couldn't enter sooner because the baby isn't suppose to be around a lot of other people yet.

I spent a good majority of the day, consoling Julie and letting her know how much I knew it was probably scary to be away from her baby and that I wished there was some way I could get her into that program today. Unfortunately the direct of the program was gone today and so there was no one to do an intake.

At the same time that I got the news about the baby, I also got news that one of my girls had been raped this weekend and had gone to the ER, followed by a shelter. She is a kid who often refuses to stay in a foster home or treatment center and lives on the street. She has a very hard time staying safe. She was exploited by her "street parent" previously and forced to sleep with multiple men for money. She's been gone on "the run" for about two weeks before she was raped at a friends home. Apparently this weekend she met a guy on the Internet and he came to her friends home. After watching TV for a few hours, she tried to go to bed, he followed her and raped her. An on call worker was able to find her a temporary placement but she had to be moved again today. I had no idea where I was going to put her, except for back at the shelter. We talked a bit on the phone and I told her how sorry I was and that I was going to look at getting her into another program.

My unit also had a meeting scheduled to discuss some ideas with a few different programs who also work with this population. One is a residential program that a few of our girls are living in. The staff are not adequately trained to work with exploited kids but their working on it. We also met with our sexual assault advocates who meet regularly with the girls. After getting done with that around 4pm, I had to run out and do a home visit with a girl that reportedly had been paid to masturbate on camera for money. Luckily this girl was at home and currently doing very well, so our visit went fast.

In-between all of these things, I managed to arrange for a mental health program to go out and assess the youth who'd been raped. The hope being that she could qualify for some type of sub acute program that could stabilize her, as she tends to not stay anywhere longer than a week. She even agreed that a lock-down facility was probably necessary. Didn't happen to day but it's in the works.

Well anyway, now that I've just totally brought up everything I've had to think about today already, I think I should go watch cartoons or something. Self care, self care!

Restorative Months

2011-10-08T13:35:00.000-07:00

I think that work has been changing for the good. Well, I suppose I don't know if it's work that is changing but I'm starting to get a handle on my new'ish position and our new and complicated computer system. Yesterday I spent about an hour, just writing my to-do list. The list ended up being three pages long TYPED! I had to laugh at my complete inability to complete everything. I've gotten better at making light of those depressing realizations. I mean, it is what it is. While writing it out made me realize how much I have to do, it also made me feel a lot better just knowing I could see my progress in a tangible way.

I've been dedicating the last two months to just being kind to myself and my body in general. I went to my therapist last week and cried most of my session. It felt really good to admit how much vicarious trauma I've been experiencing these days and how overwhelmed I am in general with my job. This transition has been a very challenging one. I don't regret it for a second though. My therapist looked at me in concern and just say "it sounds like you're being abused." which after reading over my last post, I even said myself. She's such an amazing therapist and just what I need. She told me to be kind to myself and to follow my bodies reaction to things instead of listening to my "head voice". We talked a lot about mindfulness and being present in the decisions you make. I think its a really good suggestion. I've also committed to eating healthier and that seems to help a lot as well. It's easy for me to stop taking care of myself when I am so focused on caring for others. I'm sure any foster parents or social workers out there know how that is. I feel like I'm on the path to becoming more stable and understanding and doing my job a bit more efficiently.

Last night I also went to a showing of this movie at the college downtown. The makers of the movie are traveling around the nation showing it, to raise awareness. After the showing, they had a panel of speakings, one of which included my supervisor. There was however a very tense moment when someone asked "what are we doing to empower these girls?" The panalists all looked a bit worried and one said "I don't know." The entire row of people I was sitting with were therapists that I work closely with and whom counsel the girls I work with. The whole row started harshly whispering to one another "Seriously? They are seriously not going to talk about us." One therapist got up and left because she was so upset. I finally stood up and pointed out to the crowd that there was an entire group of people sitting right there, that work daily to empower the girls and give them tools to be successful. I got lots of high fives and gained some major points with the crew. YAY, awfulness avoided.

It was reaffirming to know that I still feel as passionate about these girls, as ever and feel privileged to be part of helping them. I feel like I've only touched the surface of this issue. It's actually exciting to know that there is so much to learn ahead of me. If that is one thing to be thankful for in my job is that it's never boring and it's also a constant learning process that requires you to be humble. I hope everyone else is taking care of themselves. I'm going to go chug some water because I feel like I'm always dehydrated and am working on "taking care of myself" ;)

Oh I almost forgot, my supervisor is getting a Snoodle dog and is hoping to make it a therapy dog for our unit. I asked her jokingly if it was therapy for us or our girls. She said both! Here is what a snoodle looks like! OMG so cute!!

Don't tell me "It's time for a new job"

2011-08-18T00:22:00.000-07:00

This week I; found out that one my favorite kids is not only being exploited but also being the exploiter for another, younger child on my caseload. I had a foster parent give up on a kid after less than a month because she was "too hard." the kid cried and said "This is the six foster home that's kicked me out. why should i even try. I just want to go home." I spent several days trying to find her a new foster home, only to be met with great resistance from all the foster care certifiers. When I was offered a really crappy home, I said "no thanks, we need to keep looking." they didn't like that answer. I got several more emails telling me "We don't have the luxury of being picky so you need to take the ones you've given." translation; we gave you a name of one foster parent that you could use and we don't want to continue to work on it. I found my foster parent (with no help), a better one. I moved the kid and all of her belongings.

Today I made an appointment with a relative who at the last minute called and changed the meeting location. I did not receive the message so I went to the original location....he was not there. When I returned to the office and called him, he stated "I don't want to do this anymore. What good is it going to do to have an appointment. Nothing is being done." I'd already made referrals for several agencies, non of which he'd followed up with. I could hear his girlfriend in the background screaming. She said "give me the phone!" and proceeded to scream at the top of her lungs. "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHAT HAS TO HAPPEN FOR YOU TO DO SOMETHING. THIS IS BULLSHIT. FUCK YOU...ETC..." when i asked, logically "Um, who is this?" she responded "Non of your fucking business who this is." well actually it is.

I spent about four hours in the emergency room the other day with a kid who'd been beaten up pretty badly by her friend. The reasons are still fairly foggy but all having to do with sexual exploitation. The same youth got tested for std's and had anal clamitia, for the third time in a row. I got a new assessment to follow up on, having to do with a youth getting paid to take pornographic photographs and masturbate on camera. I got another one with a girl that has disappeared and is most likely in CA somewhere with her pimp and has a younger sibling at home is also in danger of being trafficked.

Today I just cracked. I'm sensitive but I can usually build a wall that's able to handle the strain at least a bit. After being screamed at, especially after attempting to help someone took me a bit over the edge. I packed my bag, I slipped on my flip flops, I got in my car and I drove an hour east to a little surf town. I drove to the marina, pulled out my book and purse, walked to the water, set my stuff down and then jumped in with all my clothes on. I felt a bit self conscious that the group of people a few yards away. What must they be thinking about this weird girl, all alone going into the water with her clothes on. Luckily it was windy and I was able to dry off mostly. I felt better I thought. I got a beer and some food. I met a friend in the town that i hadn't seen in a while and she convinced me to cross the toll bridge, to the bar across the river. On my return ride, I forgot about paying and got a bit of a tiny scolding from the toll collector. "Don't you know this is a toll bridge? What are you doing?" I looked away embarrased "I know, I just thought you only had to pay one way, I paid my way over, I wasn't sure." He rolled his eyes and after paying, allowed me to go through. Again...the straw that broke the camels back. I was irrationally upset about this snide remard and began to bawl. Not a light cry but a sob, deep down, eyes welling up and I couldn't help but feel sorry for myself. I looked down at my slowly increasing waist line, looked in the mirror at my tired face and just felt pure exhaustion and fatigue. I feel like I'm in an abusive relationship and it's only when I threaten to leave that I start to feel ok about it and then the abuse happens all over again. I don't want to hear "It's time to get a new job." I just don't want to hear it. I just don't know what I can do anymore to make myself feel better and to not feel like I'm constantly abusing myself or getting abused by others emotionally. The tender heart that makes me so good at what i do, is also what makes it so hard for me. There is no easy answer, i just needed to write that out. It's been a long day.

camping gone wrong

2011-08-08T21:43:00.000-07:00

I went camping last week. My summer goal has been to actually make plans to leave town. I have a bad habit of sort of just waiting for people to plan things for me. It was so perfect. The weather was great, we had a beautiful spot reserved in a lush forest just a few miles away from a hot springs. I managed to round up about six friends, which always seems impressive as my friends tend to be a bit flaky.

I took Friday off of work and made my way up the mountain. My cell phone reception went out about an hour into the drive, much to my satisfaction. Forced isolation is really good for me. I have such a hard time not responding to people when they call, text or email. I immediately think "what if they need me? What if it's important?!" So having no option is a good option.

The first night was great. We roasted marshmallows, we drank beer, we sat around the fire chatting and laughing. It was everything I love about camping. The following day however, we ended up driving around for hours looking for a store and during that time, we got into cell phone range. I couldn't help but check. I had two missed calls, one from a friend needing something and another from my supervisor. "Hey, I just wanted to let you know that Laura had her baby. She's obviously still at the hospital because she was only seven months pregnant. Please call me." in a moment I had a surge of panic and dread run through my body. Laura was a young lady who'd recently gotten safely back in town after being sexually trafficked down to CA and beaten very badly by her pimp. We were able to find her and get her back only two weeks prior. The poor thing had gone through so many terrible things, being prostituted while seven months pregnant, being one of them. Since being back in town she refused to enter any sort of parenting program or safe placement. She was a sweet girl- quiet, polite, interesting. As most of my girls, I really like her.

I went from relaxed camper to anxious and unsettled. I just wanted to work. I had a thought of leaving early and going to the hospital so I could visit her, make sure she was ok, make sure her baby was OK. This was not a circumstance I was prepared for, as we hadn't thought she'd be giving birth for a few more months. She was a youth that I had still been building a relationship with, whom at this point was pretty guarded. I didn't like the feeling that I was going to have to let it go and keep on doing what I was doing. My instinct was to stop my life to deal with someone's else, even on my day off and when I was camping. I made the choice not to call back. My supervisor has made it clear that if she calls on the weekend we don't have to call her back. I had so many questions; was the child taken into DHS custody? Will she be in the hospital for a long time? Is my kid ok? What can I do?! I wouldn't know and I resented even knowing as much as I did.

It was too late though, my feelings of freedom and relaxation were sucked from my body so quickly. The long drive with no store in sight did not help either. I drove
back to the campsite, trying my hardest to talk myself out of feeling stressed and worried. The only sense of comfort that I could muster was that I was not the most important person in the world and someone else would deal with it. It's so easy to convince yourself sometimes that you're holding the world up alone. The reality is that there are plenty of other adults that helped her that weekend. I'm sure I could of been of help but me not being there was certainly not the end of the world.

Once we got back to the camping site I forced myself down in a lawn chair away from everyone else, stuck in my earphones and listened to a meditation cd. Self care is pretty much my goal of the year. I had to struggle to identify and allow myself to feel crappy and then let the feelings pass naturally.

I had therapy today as well. As a side note, I believe that everyone doing any stressful job should be required to do therapy. I love it! My therapist is the best ever and she always has a way of making me feel validated and assisting me in looking at things in a different light. She made me look at my life and realize that I put a lot out there and don't get a lot support back for myself. We discussed my problems with overeating, drinking etc. She made me realize how much I need to be nurtured but I'm so busy taking care of everyone else to get that need met. For an assignment she has asked me to go through my days activities and rate each on on a scale from 1-5 in regards to how much each activity makes me want to; drink, have sex or eat food (my coping mechanisms). It's an interesting idea. I laughed "well that will be easy. Five's all down the line." I'm going to try it though. Really trying to get a handle on this vicarious trauma that seems to be so strong since changing positions. I'm getting there.

More trauma

2011-06-18T14:57:00.000-07:00

This will be the fourth time I've written and re-written this blog entry. I have to be careful with these stories and their intentions and purpose and I don't want to further exploit any of the girls I work with.

I've been going through a rough time the last week or so. One of my favorite girls got her kid taken from her last weekend. She's my bright and shining star. I'd adopt her if I could. Even though she's 20, she still needs that loving and supportive parent that she never had. More now than ever. She was taken from her own parents at a young age, placed in foster care (where she was further abused) and then in an adoptive home, who also abused her and eventually abandon her. It breaks my heart that someone could abandoned such a lovely girl. It leaves me confused and livid. She's so charismatic and charming. She's got a slight lisp and is affectionate and darling. I simply love her. I told her that if I didn't get hired into the new unit that they'd have to rip her from my dead hands. She loves hearing me say that and laughs every time.

Yola was reqruited by a pimp when she was 14 and has been in the life since. She had some remarkable changes when she got pregnant. She completed an inpatient treatment program, went into a foster home and eventually go her very own apartment and started beauty school. Then she fell. I don't know if it was because she was struggling financially or if she was approached by people she knew in the life or what really caused it but she went back. For this and a few other concerns, her child was removed from her care last weekend. Her child is her life and I've never felt so insanely sad for someone else. I've built up a pretty strong barrier to situations like this but this time, my wall just wasn't thick enough. It was a little too real. I know how much she loves that kid and how important he is to her. He has been her whole world since his birth. Listening to her say that maybe he was better off not being with her and To watch her let him go, made me realize how deep in she must be. She'd never let him go if something or someone didn't have some control over her. I don't know what exactly is going on but I suspect that she's got a new pimp and is further in the life that I'd thought. It scares me for her and I just hope she'll be ok. I worry about her constantly. Luckily she's in good contact with me. She texts me almost everyday and checks in. I've just continue to let her know how much I care for her and that I'm there for her when she needs me. I let her know what a strength it is that she continues to be in touch with the people that love her. It's hard though, I know I'm suppose to keep some professional boundaries but she's slowly become my kid. I'm her person. I'm one of the only responsible adults in her life and it makes me feel so so sad for her.

I know how important it is to keep professional boundaries but it's so challenging when you're dealing with human beings. This is not just a job, these are real relationships. I don't care if I get paid for this, she's still my girl, just like so many other girls.

Healthy families

2011-05-14T13:08:00.000-07:00

I've started watching real cheesy, family type sitcoms recently. I just realized that when you deal with trauma and family devastation everyday, it's just so nice to see a healthy and happy family. I enjoy watching a family who's biggest problem is that their kid might go to a less prestigious college than they'd like. I use to hate that kind of stuff when I was younger, thinking it was an unrealistic view on family life and self righteously felt like there needed to be something more realistic and true to the problems so many families face. Now I totally disagree with my younger self. After working all day with Dads who beat their wives and kids, Mom's who are addicted to meth, grandparents that sexually abuse their grandchildren, adoptive parents who abandon their teenager when they most need them, kids who are being sold for sex and children who've grown up with foster parents and caseworkers as parents, I just want to watch someone who's happy. I want to remember that good people are out there and that healthy families exist.

I'm SO fortunate to have my own healthy family. When we get together as a family I look around and observe that I do have a fun, sweet, loving, happy family and those sitcoms are not totally unrealistic because my own family is pretty great. I sometimes actually get teary eyed just thinking how insanely lucky I've got it. I appreciate that the biggest fight my sister and I will get into will be about how she didn't put enough corn meal on the pizza peal and now it's stuck (if you're reading this Karen, it's true, you didn't!) and that we can joke about Grandma getting drunk and causing problems because we know that it's seriously a joke. I no longer feel guilty that I have these things and others don't. I just feel so, so grateful and more inspired to help others achieve what I so happily have.

I've been on a Cosby Show marathon today. I wish there were more sitcoms like this currently. So cute.

New beginning

2011-05-11T19:54:00.000-07:00

It took about a month but I finally got word that I am indeed one of the four people picked to start the first unit of child welfare dedicated to stopping the commercial, sexual exploitation of children. I felt fairly confident that I'd get the job prior to my interview but as I got closer to the interview I started to realize that their were indeed several other caseworkers who also had experience working with sexually exploited youth. The interview process was stressful in itself. It was a group interview with three other people. The interview panel was made up of the supervisor, a police officer and three other workers from an outside advocacy agency that works with these girls as well. I appreciated that they sought out the approval of the agencies we'll be working closely with. They gave us a list of questions which as a group we decided we'd take turns answering independently. I felt fairly confident in my answers but was very much impressed with everyone else in my group as well. It started to stress me out because there were only four positions and I knew that there were about 15 other workers that applied, all fairly qualified.

It took them several weeks to offer any of the workers a position. At one point I was convinced that I wasn't going to get it and got overwhelmingly mad. I realized at that point how much this means to me. I had a thought that I'd have to give up the CSEC cases that I was already working and had relationships with. I envisioned myself saying "over my dead body you're going to take this kid from me. I've worked with her for three years. No WAY!" of course, even if I didn't get the job, I'm sure they wouldn't have taken those cases from me. It did fuel my fire more thinking about it though. I couldn't believe what a mistake they'd made by not hiring me. A couple of days later the supervisor informed me that she'd not been able to offer anyone a job yet because of some kind of upper management issue. I felt pretty dumb for getting all worked up.

A couple of days ago she offered me the job and today informed me of the other three people she'd hired. I'm SOOO EXCITED about this new position and the great work we're going to do. I get to keep all of the cases that I already love and pass on the ones I don't really care for. My current unit is a little sad to see me go but I'm sure it will be nice for them to get another worker who actually works the same kind of cases. I can't wait to be in a group of woman who are all doing the same kinds of cases and have the ability to have other brains to pick and ideas to share. It's really a very exciting time. I also found out today that my start date will be on March 31st! Here i come!!

New Position

2011-03-12T22:45:00.000-08:00

I think I've figured out the way to avoid burnout...continue to move positions. This has actually helped me so far. I started out working in what we call a young childrens unit about five years ago. That position was insane. If you go back a while in my blogs and you'll see what I mean. However, it was also harder because I was brand spankin new to the social work world and more naive than ever. I'm proud of myself for really sticking it through though. So many days crying at the office, so many nights unable to sleep, thinking about a child or parent that I just couldn't do enough for. I find things a lot easier now and have a much bigger handle on my own emotional reaction to the events that happen at work.

Having said that, I'm getting burnt out again. I have almost an entire caseload of teen Mom's, as well as commercially, sexually exploited children (child prostitutes aka CSEC)Not only do I have a caseload that is made up as such, but I'm the only one in my unit of workers who does (of my own choice however). If there is anything I've learned over the last five years of doing this, it's that having a good supervisor and supportive unit is key to this job. Luckily I have a wonderful group to work with, unfortunately they're mostly carrying a very different kind of caseload and don't always relate to the work and clientele I work with. I do wish sometimes I had someone else around that I could talk to about my cases who carried a similar caseload.

This leads me to my actual point. My agency just announced that they're creating an entire unit to work specifically with CSEC kids! This is SUPER exciting to me. One, because it's hugely needed in our area, two because I really enjoy working these kinds of cases and would love to be able to join an entire unit that is specific to this population. It's a very complicated group to work with and I think it's a very smart idea having it be a specialized unit, with specialized training. It's interesting to go back in my blog and read about when I first watched the documentary, Very Young Girls. It really changed my life and led me down the path to where I am now. I never thought this would be the population I'd end up working with but it doesn't really surprise me either. It's an exciting month. I can't wait to interview for one of these positions and would be pretty surprised if i didn't get it, seeing as I already do the job. Please send me good thoughts.

Hope everyone else is out having fun this Saturday night instead of writing about social work like me. ha.

The Reality

2011-02-19T12:13:00.000-08:00

I've gotten out of the habit of keeping up with this blog. I've been working on my food blog, playing music, getting lots of new cases at work, started dating a new person. It's been a busy time. I do think it's important for me to occasionally come back here though and I hope some of you will continue to read and comment on my blog. It's nice to have a community on the internet that I can share these work and life stories with. It helps get some validation that I don't always get from my clients or my co-workers.

I know that I act and write a bit snarky and sarcastic at times.I hope what does come across is that it's my coping tool. My boss and I sat and read a letter from a Dad on my caseload who is in prison. We had to laugh as we read out loud the things he said. Quotes such as "I know I have a violent history but it's only because I beat up "rapeos" and wife beaters." another little gem was "I don't go looking to date young girls, I will admit that i had a "little problem" with meth but I'm clean now and it's not just because I'm in prison." It's just so completely absurd. I believe in change but when you're in prison and you can't even acknowledge the things that you've done to get there, continue to make excuses and minimize your behavior, all I can do is laugh instead of wanting to punch you in the face. Yeah ok, in a year your kid will be three and you still won't be out of prison, he's never met you and he's bonded with the family he's with because you've been gone committing violent crimes. But sure, come on over and start parenting him now! That makes a lot of sense. Then there is the other side of me that does realize this man was in our system himself. I don't know for sure, but I can bet that he probably had some pretty horrible experiences in foster care and that his own parents were not there for him. How would he have any idea of how to live his life and parent in a positive way? We all make our own choices but some of us just have more opportunities.

Many friends and others have told me to get another job. They hear the cynicism in my voice and the frustration. They worry about my own ability to handle it day in and day out. They are -appropriately so- concerned that I'd be happy and healthier doing something else. I do agree to an extent but what the hell would that other thing be? There isn't a lot of other options out there. It's not the same as working as a waitress and moving on to something else. This is my career and one that I've spent a lot of time developing. I'm still passionate about it and do get lots of gratification out of it. I'm not trying to convince myself or anyone else that it's a great and mentally healthy experience. It's not always. Then again, what job is? The level of stress at most jobs is probably less but the rewards are also less. I get to help someone change their life....or not. I see that as kind of a blessing. I get to part of your life and watch as it develops. It's both sad, beautiful and emotionally overwhelming.

My friends and family hear me bitch about my cases all of the time and they always shake their head and say "get a new job." and then I feel incredibly guilty for complaining and retort "But I LOVE my job and I love the kids I work with." ha, it's just so funny, I suppose people would have no idea how great it can be. Maybe I should stop complaining? I don't know. If I like my job and feel it important, is it maybe bad that I bitch about it so much? Should I be allowed? Am I just a big whiner!? Sometimes it feels like someone talking shit about your little sister. Only you can do that!

Never enough

2011-02-15T21:23:00.000-08:00

Another crappy day in child welfare, almost had to take a newborn from a Mother, two days after she gave birth. That is literally the WORST feeling EVER. Even when you know it's for the safety of the child and that you've done what you can do to help them, it's just such a horrible feeling. It's been a while since I've been in that position. We were able to work out a safety plan with the Mother to keep her daughter with her. However prior to figuring it out, I heard a lot of accusations, such as; "you haven't helped me. I keep asking for help and you've done nothing. I've found my own services, you're suppose to be my caseworker etc..."

I do feel like I did almost everything I could do for her and that she made some bad decsions, however when someone says that to you, you can't help but wonder if they're right. Did I not help her enough? Should I have been in better touch? Should I have been more clear about my expectations. I thought I was. I sat down with her a number of times and explained what she needed to do. I thought she understood but its apparent she either doesn't understand or doesn't care. It's such a shitty position to be in. Why couldn't she have just stayed in that wonderful domestic violence shelter that offered classes? Instead she decided to leave and stay with a couple of random people who I didn't know. Regardless of who's fault it is, it just is so horrible to have to go to a hospital with the potential to remove a newborn. I will never ever get used to that and just hate it so much. The stupid hospital social worker did not help either. "I'm not with them. i'm here to help YOU." hey fuck you bitch, I'm hear to help them too but you're certainly not helping the situation. I resent that. That is not helpful to anyone. Anyway, tough day.

The Christmas Grinch

2010-12-23T14:52:00.000-08:00

One of the teens on my caseload said yesterday "They're all being Christmas Grinch's to me". Being a worker at DHS around the holiday season feels very much like being a "grinch". Unfortunately just because it's Christmas, does not eliminate the safety threats that have been identified for these parents. I've heard multiple statements this week of "You're ruining my Christmas, this is going to be the worst Christmas I've ever had." and I'm sure they're right, it might just be. Although I know it's not really my fault they can't be safe enough to be unsupervised with their kid, it still makes me feel bad for them.

In addition to dealing with all of that kind of drama, I've also just generally developed a bad attitude about Christmas. I guess I can be a little negative sometimes. I know I should be thankful for all the generous donations that people make for our kids during the holiday but instead I feel resentment and irritation about the lack of support year round. Our abused kids, our poor families do not need more junk to fill up their homes. I see this time and time again. The most neediest of children tend to have almost MORE expensive toys than the average kid. I think it stems from guilt. Guilt from their parents for their lack of positive parenting and guilt from society in general because of the lack of support year round. There is something that just really pisses me off about reading a huge evaluation with disclosures of sex abuse, physical violence, poor living conditions and neglect and than going to see the family and hear about the huge xbox the abusive step-dad bought his step-daughter. That's really great that she now has an expensive xbox, I'm sure that's really going to take away the years of fucked up emotional problems that she is going to have as a result of being sexually abused by you. Thanks. Ok, rant over. Sorry ya'll, have a good Christmas.

Speaking

2010-10-08T14:39:00.000-07:00

I've been asked to speak to a college class about minor victims of sex trafficking. I'm very excited and also terrified. I enjoy being in the spotlight sometimes but speaking in front of a class for an hour about child prostitution? That's a long time to be up in front of people. Luckily I plan to show a few video clips that I gathered from a training. A friend of mine joked said "so you have, what, 3 video's and their all 20 minutes long?" ha, yeah that is about right. I anticipate a long question and answer section. There is this doubt that keeps creeping up. I feel like, who am I to give a training on this topic? It sort of reminds me of when I was hired to work at a horse camp and my only training was that I once attended a horse camp. I do currently work with girls who are in the sex industry and one youth in particular that is directly involved in a large prostitution ring. However, I don't know that it qualifies me as an expert or worthy of given a training on it.

However, having said all of that, I also do have the desire to inform people and make sure that there is more awareness around this issue. There is so much that is not being done for these young kinds and so much that needs to be. I feel incredibly strong about the topic and have a passion for it. This seems like a really good step for me to take, especially if eventually my goal is to do some sort of non profit to benefit minor victims of sexual exploitation.

I spoke to a child last week who used to be involved in prostitution. We have a great relationship and she's very open with me. She just turned 18yrs old but she is very clearly still a child. She was on probation for attempted prostitution for about a year and just recently got off. Approximately two days after being off of probation, she ran away from her foster home, moved in with her boyfriend (pimp) and avoided all contact with the positive adults in her life. She'd just finished her GED, had plans to enroll in college, was clean and sober and was doing a wonderful job parenting her son. She lived with an extremely supportive foster parent and had multiple support people who were so incredibly proud of her that whenever they spoke of her progress, they would cry. She was an inspiration and such a good kid.

I met her at a fast food restaurant because she didn't want me coming to her apartment. I know that her current boyfriend has a history of being a pimp so I didn't want to put myself or her in anymore danger, so I agreed to meet her in public. I was relieved to find that she looked healthy and that her son was clean and happy. She gazed at him lovingly throughout our conversation. She looked up at me cautiously and said she'd started stripping.

"It's not so bad though, I don't have to get completely naked, I can still cover my stomach and stuff." I listened quietly. I was grossly aware of the concern on my face and attempted to look as non-judgmental as possible.

"Well are you sure that's a good job choice, considering what you just got out of doing?" I asked, genuinely wondering.

"It's not that bad. It's a lot better than being out on the streets. I'm just going to do it until I get back into school. We're also on a housing list and I think we'll be moving to a smaller city so we can get a place sooner." I nodded.

"Well what is the club like? What is it called?"

"It's called paradise. It's real nice. My friend showed it to me and so I work with her. It's actually a lot better than I thought it would be. The guys are ok and it's kind of fun. I'm excited to get in shape again."

"Well how often are you working?" I asked.

"I work Thursday through Monday."

I grimaced a bit "Seriously? Five nights? That is A LOT!! I know dancers and typically they work about three to four days a week. That's got to be incredibly hard on your body. How much are you able to make in a night?"

"well sometimes on slow nights I make about $50 but I've made up to $300. I'm excited to get in shape and be thinner." She smiled and looked down at her son John, feeding him bits of her sandwich.

"Well that sounds ok. Do you have to pay a house fee or anything? I know a lot of clubs require that you pay them for use of the stage. How does that work? What does your boyfriend think about all of this?"

She looked around and mumbled. "Oh, I'm not sure. My friend takes care of the money. I'm not sure how much it costs, it changes. My boyfriend doesn't care, he just tells me to be careful."

"Yeah I got to be honest sweetie, I'm a little worried that you're dancing, just because I would think that would be a really easy way right back into prostituting. I just want to make sure you're safe. Is the club nice to you? Do you feel respected? Have you thought about any other clubs in town? I know there is a place downtown that is owned by women and is really female empowering. I think most of the girls that work there actually have college educations."

"Oh really? I didn't know that, maybe I'll check it out. No the place seems cool, I don't feel scared of anyone or anything like that."

"Well at least you get to keep your money after stripping, you don't have to give it to a pimp!"

She smiled. "Yeah that is true."

After talking for about an hour, we parted ways and I gave her a hug and her baby a kiss. I told her to be in touch and not to forget her next court date. She said she'd call me if she needed anything.

This child is really the reason I've become so interested in this subject. Sometimes I just want all these girls home with me and help them get on their feet. There has got to be a better way to help these kids than finding them 'less scary' strip clubs to work at. It's all about damage control after a point though and sometimes that's all you can do if they still feel like sex is the only way they can make an income. It's sure something that I'm continuing to learn about each day.

Inspire

2010-08-04T00:32:00.000-07:00

There is so much to say about this kid. I'm afraid to say too much, to give any identifying details and I can't alter her story in any way because someday I want her to write it. I want her to tell her own story and I think she's got a much stronger voice in which to do so. I've encouraged her to write it down and I hope she does.

What I will say however is that she just turned 18yrs old and took off from her foster home. She's off probation and she thinks she should be on her own. She admitted to recently being assaulted by someone whom she won't identify. I'm just thankful that she still calls me to help her, although I'm unsure how much help I actually am. We've got a meeting tomorrow and she asked if we could get ice-cream after. Her voice was small and lispy. I laughed and told her that of course we could get ice cream. Sometimes that's the best you can offer. Ice cream.

Burn out

2010-07-28T17:48:00.001-07:00

I over-drafted my bank account today. I was .15 cents short. This pretty much describes my life right now. Gas tank on empty, no money til Friday. "You just have to live with-in your means." this is what my Mother says, to which I've regurgitated to my own clients, or something along those lines. "Maybe you can't afford to have cable if you can't pay your rent." Well I suppose I'm living beyond my means but good god, I don't live that extravagent. I pay over $200 a month in therapy (which this job has made a necessity). I spend $100 for car insurance, $400 on cheap rent, paid off a ticket, etc.. My point is that I'm a little burned/bummed out right now. I love this job but I feel stagnant and stuck in the same,'living paycheck to paycheck' situation that I've had forever. This whole "pay freeze" thing is really got moral low.

Today as I left the grocery store, I was stopped by a young girl who was obviously trying to get signitures or sign people up for something. She asked "Do you have a moment to save the children." I raised one eyebrow. Seriously? I responded "Nope" and walked to my car. I've done enough saving of children today, thank you very much.

My first removal

2010-07-24T18:19:00.000-07:00

* This is the consolidated story I recently wrote and edited.

The house was hidden down a small gravel road, sandwiched between two larger houses in a notoriously poor neighborhood. I took a deep breath as we stopped the car and got out. This was my second time at the house that week and I wasn’t looking forward to this visit. We walked slowly up to the door. The house was run down, the white paint peeled from the sides , garbage spilled out of the two full garbage bags that sat next to the front door. The next door neighbors were outside in a covered driveway barbecuing. The heat off the gravel stung my face and I could feel drops of sweat running down my forehead. It was the beginning of July and some of the first hot days we’d gotten. The neighbor took off his shirt exposing his tattooed stomach. He waved at us “Howdy.” He said. I turned away quickly and looked ahead at the blue door. We knocked lightly and I could hear some shuffling inside along with the rumble of a fan.

Christina answered the door wearing grey over sized sweat pants, a tight black Guns n Roses shirt, exposing her mid-drift, her hair pulled back in a tight black ponytail and both wrists wrapped up in bandages, like cloth bracelets . Her eyes were red slits with dark bags hanging like toasted marshmallows, her small red mouth turned up slightly. She said hello and invited us in. We walked into the one bedroom house and into the living room. Inside Steve was sitting in a brown lounge chair holding one-year-old Jerry. He sat erect, muscles tight, exposing wormy veins that wove in and out of his arms. Jerry gurgled and sucked on his thumb. The front of his blond hair was wet with sweat and stuck to his face, his cheeks flushed pink. A fan was positioned in the front window, blowing air onto Jerry and Steve. Three year old Crystal sat on the floor playing. She wore a light pink tank top, jean shorts and purple visor. She looked up at me with big green eyes and smiled. She jumped up and held her blue plastic train up for me to see. I smiled at her. “Wow this is a really cool little train Crystal.” She pulled the toy back to her chest and stuck her thumb in her mouth, wrapping her pointer finger around her nose. She dropped the train and held onto the folds in my pants. I smoothed back the top of her hair in my hand.

The couple had been on my caseload a total of two months. It had initially been a “voluntary” case. Which really only meant “you can work with us voluntarily OR we’ll get the court involved and you’ll have to work with us anyway.” Being that I was new, I got most of the voluntaries, cases because they were suppose to be easier. They were cases that weren’t quite bad enough to remove the children from their parent’s homes. I'd liked Christina right away, she was calm, easy to talk to and overall pleasant. Steve had always kind of scared me though. He was a meth addict but claimed to no longer use. I could never tell if being high was the cause of his aggression or the possible lack of drugs and withdrawals. The couple both recently turned 19 and had started renting their first house. Steve had been in foster care as child himself and both had histories of alcohol and drug abuse. Unlike Steve, Christina's drug of choice was heroine. I preferred working with junkies over meth heads, they didn’t seem quite as scary or mean.

Steve's lips tightly pressed together and he watched Beth and I closely. We took a seat next to one another on the couch and Christina sat on the floor. I cleared my throat, settling my voice. "This is my co-worker Beth, we just came to talk to you about some concerns we have". They both nodded their heads in silence.
The week before Christina had been hospitalized for trying to commit suicide. After hearing of the suicide attempt, I'd gone to the house to check on Steve and the kids. I'd arrived at the house at 2pm and knocked repeatedly to no answer. I could hear the baby inside crying and started to get worried. Eventually I called the police. When the police arrived, they pounded hard on the door and Steve eventually opened it. He said he'd been asleep with a loud fan on and had not heard the door. I told him I was concerned that he was sleeping at 2pm and not attending to his children while Christina was still in the hospital. I’d been concerned that maybe he was using drugs again and asked if he'd take a UA for me. He said he would but missed two appointments, only making the third a week later. He'd given me various excuses-that he'd missed his bus, didn’t have a ride or had to take care of the kids and couldn’t bring them. He'd dropped out of his treatment program and lost his job as well.

"So Christina how are you feeling? You just got out of the hospital today right?" I asked quietly.

She nodded her head yes.

"I'm feeling a lot better. It was just a one- time thing. I was just really stressed out and needed someone to pay attention to me." She looked down at the ground, drawing a circle into the carpet with her finger.
"Yeah sounds like you weren't getting the attention you needed for sure. Have you been able to touch base with your counselor yet?"
"Well she's on vacation but I talked to another counselor and I've got an appointment to go in tomorrow."

Steve bounced Jerry rapidly on his knee, sitting on the edge of his chair. Drool dripped out of Jerry’s mouth and down his cheek.

"Well that's good. I'm glad you were able to at least speak to someone. Have you talked to anyone about your medication or any changes that you may have to make?"
"Yeah I think I need to have a higher dose but I just don't like taking medication and I'm tired of it. I don't want to have to keep going through this shit." She sighed heavily and then looked down smiling at Crystal who was holding onto her legs.

"No kidding, I can't imagine how that must feel. I hope you really consult with your med prescriber about all of that though. You definitely don't want to just stop taking anything without consulting them first."
Christina looked out the window and didn't answer.
Christina?" I said softly.

Christina shook her head and blinked her eyes rapidly before focusing back on me. "Uh yeah I know, I know."

Beth leaned forward and asked if we could take a look around the place. Steve stood up quickly and started pacing back and forth, head shaking from side to side. He pinched the blinds open, looked outside, eyes darting back and forth. Jerry's head moved quickly up and down as Steve bounced him and then he began to cry. I looked over at Christina and she looked down at the ground, not moving.

"You have no fucking right goddamn it! No fucking right to come in here spying on us. This is fucking bullshit. We didn't do a fucking thing and now you're gonna come in here and accuse us of being child abusers?! Why don't you go do your fucking job and help some kids that actually need to be helped?"

I lowered my voice and stayed seated. "Steve I'm really sorry. I know this feels like an invasion into your personal space and it's obvious that you love your son but this is our job. When we get reports that people and their kids are having a hard time, then we have to follow up and check on it. We're not out to get you, we just want to make sure that you're getting the assistance that you need and if you're not, we want to find a way to work with you."

Steve's bloodshot eyes bulged from their sockets and his biceps flexed tight against his thin, white arms. "yeah fucking right! You want to help me?!" He screamed at us. Jerry continued to cry in his arms.

I looked over at Christina who's eyes were wide, body still. "Christina would you please hold Jerry?" I asked. She nodded her head and reached out for him. Steve glared at her but handed her the baby.

"Listen Steve I know you're really pissed off. I get it. I'd be pissed off too if someone came into my house and was questioning my parenting but you've got to calm down so we can talk. Can you do that?" I clasped my hands together behind my back so he couldn't see that I was shaking. I could see my heart beating rapidly through my shirt.

What was I doing? How had I ended up here? In college I'd thought social work meant helping children in need. The reality of getting screamed at by people and having to "assess child safety" really never sunk in until I actually got the job. In my mind, visions of happy families would be knocking at my office door to confess how I'd changed their lives and helped them. "The money isn't very good you know." My parents warned. What did they know? They worked crappy office jobs that would have bored the hell out of me. I didn't care. I just wanted a job that was helping someone, something I could feel good about. Now as a client was cussing at me and becoming increasingly more intimidating, I begin to wonder if I could have maybe done something as equally hard, made about ten times more money and been happier. I could then afford to go on a real vacation instead of driving the 30 minutes it took to go to the river for free. I didn't though and this is where I was at-in a house, with a meth addict, a heroin addict and their two kids. No one was here to thank me, that was for sure.

Christina put her hand on the back of little Jerry's head. She rocked slowly from side to side, making quiet "shoosh" noises in his ear. Crystal continued to suck her thumb holding onto her Mom’s legs. Tears begin to stream down Christina’s face but she didn't wipe them away and she made no other noise other than to quiet the baby. Beth gently put a hand on Christina's back and said "Maybe we should go outside and get some air, it's pretty hot in here." Christina nodded her head and stepped outside into the driveway, bringing both children with her.

I attempted to talk to Steve again who continued to pace back and forth in front of the living room window. I already knew that I had to remove the kids from their care. I'd thought of a million different ways that I could keep them there but there was no safe way to do it. Maybe Christina could parent if she were away from Steve I'd thought but Christina didn't have another place to go, no family or friends that would take her and she'd already stated that she was unwilling to go anywhere without Steve. As for Steve, his UA had been positive for meth but he still wouldn't admit that he had a problem, wouldn't go back into treatment or do anything to fix it. Staff from the previous homeless shelter they’d stayed at had called during the last week and said they’d witnessed Steve being extremely aggressive with Christina and were concerned about domestic violence. I'd just received a report from a distant family member of Christina's that she'd seen Steve slap her.
Beth came back in from outside. "Do you mind if we take a look around?" Beth asked Steve.

"I don't give a shit, you won't find anything!"

Beth walked into the bedroom and began looking in the closets. She crawled down on the ground and peered under the bed. She reached under and pulled something out. It took a minute for me to register that she was holding a bloody, used tampon. She gasped and threw it down squealing "Ah gross!" I stifled a nervous laugh.
“We should probably just call the police at this point. This is all making me very nervous. He's going to totally flip out as soon as we tell him" I looked between the bedroom and living room.

"Yeah you're right. Why don't you go back and talk to him about any relatives we might be able to place the kids with and I'll go outside and call the police and our supervisor."

"Okay, that sounds like a plan." I walked back into the living room to talk to Steve. I found him still standing in front of the window, hands clenched to the radiator, looking out at Christina, Crystal and Jerry in the yard. I had a vision of him as a child. I imagined him to be friendly- maybe he had a learning disability and got teased by the other kids, maybe he'd been abused and neglected by both his bio parents and his foster parents, I didn’t know.

“Steve I’m pretty concerned about what’s going on with you guys right now. It’s obvious that Christina needs some additional help and I don’t know if she can take care of her own needs while she’s taking care of the kids.”
Steve turned around to look at me. His eyes were bloodshot and I could see tears welling up. “Yeah she’s a wreck. I mean, I don’t know what’s going on with her. I thought she was fine and then all of a sudden I find her in the bathroom with blood all over her arms. I mean, jesus, what the fuck man?”

“Yeah that’s pretty scary. That must have been really stressful and hard for you too.”

Steve nodded. “But it’s fine. We’ve got it handled. I’m here for her and the kids. This is my family and I’ll take care of it. I always do.” He slid his fingers over the blinds, wiping away the dust.

“yeah I’m sure that you want to. I mean it’s obvious that you love all of them. I’ve got to be honest though Steve. I’m concerned about you too. When I came over here the other day it was 2pm and you were sleeping. The baby was crying and no one was taking care of him. I know that in the past, when things have gotten rough, you’ve used drugs and that it’s affected your ability to be a safe parent”
Steve whipped his hand off the blinds and pointed at me. “I’m not fucking using ok! I already told you that. She’s the one who’s crazy! Can’t you see that?! I’m not the bad guy here. I didn’t do shit to my kids.”

“Steve we’ve also received phone calls concerning you and Christina’s relationship. There have been multiple people who have called and said that they were concerned that you are very aggressive with her, that you’ve hit her and that she’s scared of you. Also, when I came over the other day, there was garbage littering the kitchen, the baby had an extremely full diaper, obviously hadn’t been changed in hours and was filthy. I just got your UA back Steve and its positive for Meth.”

“Well it’s wrong. It’s got to be wrong!” He started to cry and yell at me. “I haven’t been fucking using. I quit that shit. I’m not using!”

“Steve, I need to let you know that we have to take the kids today. I'm really sorry." My voice shook and there was no hiding it. “not forever, but for right now until we can get you some help.”

Steve threw up his hands, walking closer to me "The fucking hell you are. Over my dead body you're taking my kid. No fucking way!"

I eyed my exits, okay there was one behind him but also an exit through the back that I could get to fairly easy. I started to wonder why I hadn't waited for the police to show up or at least told him outside. I immediately started envisioning myself being strangled by his veiny, thin hands. The next image involved a broken bottle and a cut to my throat. Then of course, the gun being shot at my head. I pulled myself together.

"Do you have any relatives or anyone the kids could stay with just for right now? Steve I want to this to be as least traumatic for you and the kids as possible."
"I'm calling my Uncle Joe right now! This is NOT ok, this is total bullshit!" He yelled pulling out his cell phone.

"Can you also give us the number so we can get in touch with him?" I asked quietly, squeezing my left fingers in my right palm.
"NO I will not give you his number. I don't trust you. You're just going to place my kid in some stranger's home. I don't believe you for a fucking second!" He snarled, glaring at me.

I could see Beth outside giving Christina the same news. Christina held Jerry close and began to cry again, standing still in the grass.

Steve ran outside. "You see this!?" He yelled at his neighbors who were outside barbequing. "State just comes and steals your kids! They can just come in and snatch your babies. They're scum!" He threw up his arms like two limp noodles and leaned back half yelling, half mock laughing.

Beth asked Christina to pack some things for Jerry and Crystal and asked if there were any toys that they especially liked and would comfort them. She went back into the house and began putting a bag together.

The police car pulled into the driveway. I'd never been so happy to see the police. My hands unclenched as I walked up to introduce myself and give him a little description of what was happening. The officer stood tall, chest puffed up from his vest. Steve continued to yell. The officer said firmly "Sir, you need to calm down. We're not going to get anywhere until you calm down." Steve stopped screaming for a moment.

Beth held Jerry in her arms, Crystal sat at her feet as Christina came outside with a bag of clothes. Steve walked towards Beth, raised his fist into the air as though he was going to punch her. He started to scream at her "You fat fucking bitch, you're so fucking ugly." Beth didn't react and continued to gather the kids things. The police officer continued to talk to Steve as we got the kids belongings into the car. I asked Christina if she had any relatives that we could call aside from Steve's Uncle. She said she couldn't think of anyone but had Uncle Joe's number in her phone. She gave us the number and helped buckle the kids into their car seats. She kissed Jerry on both of his cheeks and looked into Crystal’s eyes “It’s ok baby, you’re just fine. You’re going to go visit uncle Joe. Doesn’t that sound like fun?” Crystal began to cry and reach out for her Mom. I could feel a sting in my face and held back tears as I watched her wave goodbye and shut the car door.

"Christina, you know we're going to work with you. This is not goodbye forever, just for right now so that you guys can work on some stuff. Ok?" I looked at her sympathetically.

The officer motioned to us to leave and continued to talk to Steve. I looked over at Beth in the passenger seat and she smiled weakly. "Well that was sure something." She said. "yeah uh, something alright. Why do we do this job again?" I rubbed my eyes in my palms. "No idea." Beth sighed and we drove away in silence.

New Foster Parent

2009-09-04T19:49:00.001-07:00

I just moved one of the kids on my caseload to a new foster home yesterday. I hate moving kids for lots of reasons (won't even go into that now). However, in this situation I didn't have a choice. The foster parent packed up his stuff, sent him and all his things off to a visit with his father. She called and said she couldn't do it anymore. She was very sorry but I needed to find another placement for the child. I'd spoken to this foster parent the day before and at that point she'd asked me to find him a new home. I let her know I agreed that it probably wasn't the best fit. However, this child (whom I'll call Timmy) had been with her for about five months already and I didn't have a foster home quite yet lined up for him. I wanted to make sure that the next place I moved him would really work. The following day she called my supervisor and told her that he needed to go. Normally we ask foster parents to at least give us a week or so to find an appropriate placement. It's often traumatic for kids to move to new homes and I didn't want to put him in a temporary placement just to have to move him again. Luckily one of the foster care certifer's just certified a new home. A 39yr old single woman. The certifyer was reluctant to have me move my child to this new foster parents home. "I don't want to give her a kid with too many behaviors or problems for a first kid." but in reality we often don't know what kind of behaviors the kids really do or don't have. A lot of behaviors are symptoms of their environment. I've often had kids who've been described as oppositionally defiant and extremely aggresive and then when they're placed with just the right person, those behaviors magically disapear. My theory is that a lot of our kids are misdiagnosed for these reasons. I believe that Timmy is one of those children. "He is constantly hiding, he runs off, I can't be liable for him. He often shuts down and won't talk at all." is what his previous foster parent reported to me. I take it very seriously but I also feel like these are pretty normal behaviors for a child who's very young, has been in foster care multiple times in his life and been very neglected by his parents. One afternoon I walked up to the lobby to meet with the foster parent. I saw Timmy crawling on the floor behind her chair. I snuck up behind him and tickled his sides, making him laugh and jump up. I smiled at her and she immediately got a frown on her face and said "This is what he's been doing all morning! He just keeps hiding and now he won't talk. He got up all night and hid. I can't take this." I sat and listened but I didn't have many solutions to her problem. I let her know I'd touch base with his counselor and see if we could come up with any ideas. I tried to empathize with her and recognized that it probably scares her when she can't find him. I brought up a different issue that I think has something to do with Timmy's behaviors. "So I just thought I'd bring this up. I was speaking to Timmy's Mother and she says that you call him Tommy. I'm sure it's just a mistake but I know that it really upsets her that you aren't calling him the right name." She shook her head and looked frustrated. "See! This is why I don't like dealing with parents". I didn't know how to respond after that. It seems to me that calling a child by the wrong name is a pretty big.

I went to the new foster parents home today. She lives in a cute little house, nicely decorated and spacious. I found her and Timmy in the backyard together. He smiled when he saw me and laughed. Her dog jumped up on me and she shooed him away. Timmy laughed saying "He did that to me too when I first met him!" We went into the house and Timmy grabbed my hand and dragged me back to his new room. He jumped around and showed me all his new stuff. "She got me a big bouncy ball (pilates ball) and these action toys and we got new school supplies and look I have my own desk" Next to his bed were also pictures of him and his Mother taped to the wall. The foster parent remarked that they were still working on getting the room set up. We sat down and I went over all his school, doctors and other contacts. Timmy came in every few minutes and told me about some new thing he'd done with the foster Mother. "We went to the coast yesterday and I've got a shell for you!" he pulled out a little shell and placed it in my hand. I'd never seen him so comfortable, aside from being with his Mother.

I asked the new foster Mother how she felt about meeting his Mother. She didn't hesitate for a moment. "Oh I have no problem with that at all." I asked if she'd drive him to visits with his Mother. No problem. She said she was surprised that everyone described him as having so many behaviors because she saw him as being a very sweet kid. Everyone told her that he'd be hard to understand (he has speech problems) but she could understand him pretty well. As I left, she was on the way out the door to take him to a visit with his Mother.

I just want to put out there to any similar foster parents how much we LOVE having foster parents like you. I want to keep this foster mother a secret and use her for a placement again. I do realize that many people aren't willing to do as much, only after being burned. Burned by bio parents, burned by the child welfare system and whomever else they have to deal with. It's a real hard job. The hardest by far. It's just really encouraging to meet another really great new foster parent. It just blows my mind the kinds of strides kids can make when they feel like everyone is in it together for their benefit. If bio parents and foster parents can work together and try not to judge one another, it can produce such wonderful things! So leaving work on a friday in a very positive note.

Underage Prostitution

2009-07-26T14:45:00.000-07:00

I've taken trainings on underage girls prostituting but I just watched this video and it really made a much bigger impact on me. This seems like an area that has the least programs and research. I'm feeling like this is something I'd like to find more solutions and supports for. I've seen a lot about how pimps get young girls and why the girls stay but there isn't a lot of information about what helps and how to stop this from happening. It's not like rehab for drug addicts, there aren't really any "rehab" from prostituting.

Where to go from here

2009-06-06T23:12:00.000-07:00

When I'm feeling down or out of sorts I look at my horoscope, check to see if Mercury is in Retrograde, or if I'm a week away from my period. Today I couldn't blame my depressed feeling on any of those things. I just felt low. Last week I felt pretty unproductive and down at work as well. I'm feeling a little lost at the moment. I spent most of my young adult years working towards a work goal, to become a case worker and work specifically with teens. Now I'm doing it. Great. I love my teens and love listening to them and helping them but that is about all I love about my job anymore. I suppose that is the important part but spending the other 75% of my time talking to attorney's, judge's, writing court reports, documenting my face to face contacts, speaking to crazy relatives, filling out forms determining how much money a foster parent will get for taking care of a kid, calling treatment providers and requesting updates, calling therapists and arguing over how often a kid should be seen, speaking to the citizens' review board about my cases, reading through thousands of emails, filling out more funding requests, attending system of care committee's to get funding for various things for my clients, checking in with my supervisor, listening to lots of voice-mail's, defusing angry people, handling crisis and generally staring straight ahead at my Grey cubicle wall wishing I were anywhere else.

I suppose I sound like a broken record with these complaints but I've got to write it out to determine exactly what it is that I do like and don't like about my job so that I can move forward to maybe look for something better. I keep tossing around the idea of opening up my own non-profit. I wouldn't have to deal with the same bureaucratic shit that I deal with working for the state but I don't know that it would really resolve any of the frustrations that I have with doing lots of paperwork and non social work related activities. In fact, it would probably require more of that than I'm doing currently. Maybe I should just become a teen counselor. That seems to be the part of the job that I really enjoy the most, helping kids process what is going on in their lives. I keep coming back to the fact that being in a powerful position as a caseworker, I have the potential to really help these kids who are maybe not understood as well by a lot of people. I'm also good at working with this population. I'd somehow feel guilty not utilizing my strengths because I'm tired of the other shit. Maybe if I do this for another year or so I'll figure out something that might not be so frustrating. I feel pretty angry that there is just no way around it. I need to keep doing my job because I haven't learned everything I should have from it yet. I just feel like everything in my life is a struggle right now. Recently my friend said "anything worth doing is frustrating and hard." He's right. Damn him.

Long Time

2009-05-06T14:54:00.000-07:00

Sorry for my absence in blogging. I guess I've been busy living. I've been putting a lot of energy towards improving the quality of my life which hopefully will improve my ability to handle the stress of this job.

Things have been good though. Still loving my teens. I'm getting nervous as I'm about to take on a few more cases that are not teen Moms. My caseload is suppose to be specific to this population but they are desperate need of people to take on other type of cases right now. They sound horrible though and I'm not looking forward to taking them on. I got out of the young children's unit for a reason. It's really freaking hard and I don't enjoy little kids nearly as much as teens. The more I work with Teens, the more I know that it's the population I'm meant to work with.

I took one of my girls out the other day to help her apply for some benefits and to visit with her. She's 18 now and could really be dismissed as a ward of the court but she'd like to have some help still. She's a new Mom, hasn't graduated high school, is living with her boyfriend and his family and doesn't have any job or income. This is a very common thing for young girls without family support. They have to find a boyfriend or other support. I just worry that she'll get stuck in a situation that she doesn't want to be in because she doesn't have any other options. She recently broke up with her boyfriend but she's still living with him. I'd like to find her a foster placement but she's most certainly not a child that looks good on paper. Past felony's, drug abuse, run away, pretty much anything you can think of, she's done. If I wasn't her caseworker, I'd take her in myself. She's not that kid anymore and she really just needs a chance to live her life in a healthy way with support.

This leads me to something else. Being a foster parent. I've decided that I'd like to be a foster parent in about five years or so for teen Mom's. Every year I get older, the thought of having a baby, doesn't really appeal to me as much. The thought of helping and mentoring teen Mom's and their babies makes me giddy. The one thing I've noticed (although already knew) since doing this job is that there are so few placements for these girls. Oddly enough, these kids are some of the easiest to be foster parents to. They aren't going to be running away for the most part because they have babies to think about. They want to do what is best because they know that if they don't, they risk not being able to parent. And while that is incredibly messed up, it's also true. They don't want their kids to grow up in a foster home like many of them have and i think that motivates them more than anything could. For some of my Mom's they've said it saved their life. Having something/someone else to worry about has made them more responsible. Plus I just feel for these girls who haven't always had the best examples or no examples of what it's like to be loved by a parent unconditionally.

Luckily, the foster parents that I'm working with now are great for my girls. However there are just so few. I can only think of literally a handful that will take them. Out of those, maybe four that are really good. It's hard though and most people really don't know how to deal with teens who are so emotionally screwed up. Maybe I should just do some recruiting and training for now. That could be pretty rewarding too.

It's been a PMS day.

2009-04-08T15:41:00.000-07:00

The thing about doing social work is that you can never fully take ownership of someone's success or failures. You're usually just one person in a long string of people who are trying to help. There is never just one person who changes another’s life. It’s always a collective of people. You may have a good moment of advice or be helpful in some way but ultimately it's the person whose life it is, that makes the decision to change. I think what typically happens is that someone gets told the same thing by multiple people and eventually after the 100th time it kind of sinks in. It's ultimately the person who needs the help that is the one who should get credit, for the good and bad decisions they make.

As someone in the helping field, this is something that I think a lot of people forget. Myself included. I've got a specific case in my mind that really is bugging me. I had a phone conversation with another provider for a teen that I work with. I've been trying to figure out what it is about this conversation that rubbed me the wrong way so badly. I’m also trying to determine if I’m being irrational for being so irritated.

I have a teen Mom who I suspect is prostituting, having all kinds of issues with drugs and not attending school or treatment. She’s not being doing well at all and she’s had a HUGE team of people that have been trying to help her. There is a program called Wrap Around that is suppose to meet with her weekly although usually when they try, she disappears. She also has lots of family who have tried to support and help her through out the years. She also has school support as well as my support as her worker. I’ve tried so hard to engage this child with little luck. We did have a few conversations with her but she never really followed through with anything and made a lot of excuses. I tried hard though. I’d call her almost every day, go to her home to see if I could catch her before she’d be out on the street, I’d talk to her Grandmother to give advice about parenting and help with ideas. I spoke to the school, to her counselor and then continued to check in with her through her myspace and when she’d come to the office to visit her baby. She’s very young and so I tried to be sensitive in the way that I phrased things so that she’d feel comfortable building a trusting relationship with me.

However, things were not looking good so I finally decided I needed to take a different approach and was more upfront with her. I told her that I didn’t believe she was really doing anything and at this rate, she would not get her daughter back. I made it clear that in a month we were going to have a permanency hearing and at that time, the plan would be changed to adoption if she continued the way she was going. She scoffed at me and then refused to talk anymore.

However, a week later she all of a sudden started engaging in all kinds of stuff. She started to go to school, she met with the wrap around team, and she seemed much more engaged. I got a phone call from a new person who was part of her wrap around team. We talked about her progress and I said that I was thrilled that she actually engaging for once. This new provider made a statement like “Well at Wrap Around we have a different approach. We really try to relate to our clients, get to know them, build trust so that they’ll work with us. Then we can relay progress to you.” It felt so condescending and judgmental. I felt like she was telling me that I hadn’t been doing those things and attributing this Teens recent success solely to her efforts. I think I felt the most offended because I’d sent this teen several messages about taking her out to dinner, doing things to get to know her and know who she was so that I could better help her. How dare she assume she knows my approach to dealing with clients just because I’m a DHS worker. I also kind of feel like, how dare her for taking credit for anything, having just met this youth for the very first time. If anyone should be taking credit, it’s the child who decided to finally start to engage. Who knows what started it. It could have been a family member who finally got into her head. I don’t know. I’m just in an irritable mood today. I'm sure i'm partly irrated because I suppose I'd like to believe that I had a small part in helping as well. Which I'm sure I did along with many other people. grr.

To Be Heard

2009-04-04T10:17:00.000-07:00

I spoke to this teen last week for about an hour on the phone. She was really upset with her new foster Mom. She was screaming that I needed to find anywhere else for her. She's the same child I talked about in a previous post. She'd been fighting with her foster Mom over internet use. The foster parent is very similar to this child and is not going to allow her to get the last word. She also gets a little bit of attitude, which again is similar to this kid. As she told me the story, I said to her.
"well that's funny because she sounds just like you. You don't like people telling you that you're wrong and you're going to defend yourself, right?"

Sara laughed.

"I know and I can't stand it! She's just not always going to get the last word! I've spend so much of my life not being heard and I'm not going to let that happen anymore. I'm going to stick up for myself and I'm not letting anyone walk on me."

I responded

"That must have really sucked. It's terrible to not feel like you are being listened to. You are right, you're really good at letting yourself be heard. I think that's great but you need to pick your battles. You have such bigger issues to get upset about, why expend all this energy getting upset about something so little. It's kind of like the 'boy who cried wolf'. It's going to be harder for people to listen to you if you get upset about every small thing. I think you should use this as practice on how to control those angry feelings because in the real world people are going to tell you things you don't like and sometimes you just have to bite your tongue. I have clients call me up and call me bad names all the time but I don't yell back at them."

We hung up on a good note and she said she'd try to make it work.

A week later we had a wrap around meeting. The team asked her how the new foster home was going. She said that things were actually ok. She'd gotten off to a rough start but was doing better. Then she said "------ told me to use this as practice and so I've been calmer and told her that sometimes when she talks to me a certain way it makes me upset" I about fell out of my seat. Everyone in the room looked at her and then at me and raised their brows and said "wow, well that's great Sara". Do you know how gratifying it is to actually be listened to!? It's so great to know that she trusts me enough to actually try something I suggested. It also means that she's mature enough to realize that someone else might know a better way to handle a situation. It was a real good day.

This Is So My Life

2009-04-03T13:17:00.001-07:00

You have to read this HILARIOUS article. It pretty much sums up my job and life!

Shit Car