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Dear Prospective Foster Parent,


I am writing to offer some advice for you to consider as you contemplate signing up to be a foster parent. Let me start by telling you a short story. At the beginning of the year I took 8 year old twins to have transfer physicals at a local pediatrician’s office. A transfer physical is required every time a child moves from one foster home to another and this was their fourth set of transfer physicals in the seven short months I had been on the case. These children, while utterly adorable, are a force to be reckoned with- bundles of nonstop energy in motion. As it turns out, energetic twins in motion will stay in motion, especially in new locations where there are magazines to read and then discard on the floor, office supplies to borrow from the receptionist (when she isn’t looking), and snacks to munch from new friends who weren’t really intending to share. It was a bit chaotic but we finally got called back into the room. When it came time for the actual physicals the room was suddenly quiet, but not a particularly satisfying type of quiet as it came from their anxiety about the potential of “getting a needle.” Once assured that it was just a quick check-up they immediately perked back up and reverted to their mischievous selves that warranted the doctor uttering the phrase “don’t touch that” approximately one hundred times in twenty minutes.

As the twins started to put their shoes on to leave one of them turned to me, face glowing in pride, and shouted, “Ms. E, I figured it out!” “What did you figure out?” I asked as I tried to wrangle the other child’s foot into a boot without losing an eye. “When we are bad we come to the doctor and then you take us to another home to see if that person thinks we are good or bad!” The words were said with such glee in the discovery that they had figured out the pattern- it was heartbreaking, mostly because it was true. Four sets of foster parents had decided over the course of seven months that they could not keep the children in their home, so four times they had their possessions packed up and delivered to me at the agency, I would accompany them to their transfer physical, buy them lunch, and then take them to a new home full of strangers.

Now I don’t mean to start this letter on a negative note. I don’t write these words to pass judgment on the parents who could not keep these children in their homes. I write this because I have seen in my time as a case planner that there is an increasingly common trend of foster parents putting in their “ten day notice” without really trying (in my opinion) to preserve the placement. I urge you to consider with utmost care what you are capable of doing and how you will cope with a foster child who is not perfect because I am here to tell you a not-so-secret secret: NO child is perfect. Regardless of race, ethnicity, age, sexual-orientation or even placement into foster care: every child presents unique and often frustrating challenges.

messy baby

I understand that what I am asking of you is impossible: I want you to love that child in your home like your own but with an understanding that they could leave at any moment. They could go to a relative who you don’t like. They could go to a grandparent who has very little money or a recovering parent residing in a shelter. You might not approve of the circumstances and no matter what it will probably break your heart because you did what I asked of you- you loved that child like your own. It is a heavy emotional price to pay if you want to be a foster parent, but I assure you the investment is worth the pain. The love, time, and energy that you put into raising that child, no matter the duration of time, will always be with them. What I ask of you is that you remember that no child is perfect and it will take time for a child to adjust to your home. Being a foster parent does not mean that you are “saving” a child. Children and youth might not be happy with you by no fault of your own, almost all children want to be with their family, even in cases of severe abuse and neglect. Their biological parents will not be perfect, just like you yourself are not a perfect parent. Their faults as parents might be more substantial but try your best to not be judgmental. Almost all parents with children in care (I would say at least 99.99%) love their children and want to protect and provide for them. They might not express their love the same way you do, but at the end of the day the children love their parents and, usually, want to go home.

I write this so that you will know ahead of time what to expect, but don’t be discouraged! Children are so wonderful, they love freely and without conditions, they will love multiple parents without the constraints of labels like “biological” and “foster.” I ask that you summon as much patience as is humanly possible, and then maybe a little more. Patience will be key to preserving your sanity. Nothing in child welfare runs on time and the only thing that is predictable is the promise of change. Be patient with the child and be patient with yourself. To be a truly phenomenal foster parent you have to practice exceptional self-care so don’t feel selfish when you prioritize your own physical and mental health above other things.

I commend you for considering this adventure because it is not a small commitment, children are precious but their needs are many. You will be busy with appointments and visits and meetings and you will feel exhausted and discouraged. And perhaps on that lowest of days you will come home to crayon mural of expletives on your newly painted wall or the leftover ashes of a joint in your mother’s antique ceramic pot. You might say that this is not for you, that this child cannot possibly stay one more day. Try to remember when you were a child or a teen, I am sure you did a few things that drove your parents crazy. And if you were somehow an angel in your childhood I am sure you had friends with rebellious streaks and their parents, while tempted to ship them to a circus, kept them because they were their children. I ask that if you truly want to be a foster parent then you commit to have this level of love for a child, a type of love that prevails over a storm of negatives when the positives can be few and far between.

Don’t be afraid to reach out for support and additional resources, don’t think that you are alone. As a case planner I know and love the children but I am not raising them 24/7- you are the one doing morning and bedtime routines and everything in between so you might feel like I don’t really understand when you tell me what is going on. Try joining a support group for foster parents so you can vent to someone who actually understands what you are going through on a daily basis, someone who might have also scrubbed some curse words off of furniture or waited up for teenagers who don’t mind curfews. Other people who have practice in negotiating the tumultuous waters of foster care and the extensive responsibilities and requirements you face. Build up your support network so that your friends and family can learn how to better help you and the child get everything done. Find someone to remind you on a daily basis how strong and wonderful you are. But please, unless there is a safety risk to you, the child, or your family, please don’t send a child back to the agency because they “aren’t the right fit.” Children are not puzzle pieces, there is no such thing as a perfect fit.

sun after storm

Please try a little longer, because the sunshine might be right behind this passing storm cloud but no one, not even the child or youth themselves, knows that it is so close. I ask you the impossible: love that child like they are your own and pour every last bit of your love and devotion into a child that you may never see again if/when they leave. You could be the one to help a child discover their true potential, to give them stability they might have been missing, you could help lead them to the sunshine, whatever that light may be. Just be prepared for the storms, and please don’t throw in the umbrella too soon because every day in the life of child is precious and they deserve someone who will be around regardless of the weather.



Your future case planner


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All the Small Things

I joined Children’s Corps this past year, so I’ve been on the job for a grand total of about seven and a half months. In that time, I’ve resisted blogging about it. Partially because I’m a notoriously inconsistent blogger (ask my mom about my Peace Corps blog) and partially because, at the end of the day, I don’t always want to relive my job. The concept of a work/life balance- so important for everyone, but especially in the field of human services- is something I continue to struggle with on an almost daily basis.

But yesterday, I finally decided that contributing to this blog is important. It’s not because I had one big epiphany that made me want to share my experiences with the world. It’s because I had a week full of small things, things that people who don’t work in child welfare usually will not see despite how very significant they are. And these small things are important for me to share with you, because they are important for my families. They are part of everyday life, which so often gets overlooked in foster care.

People who don’t know much about foster care see only the big, bad things. They see the news stories about fatalities, hear the stories about a broken system, and imagine the stereotype of bad kids in rough homes that may not be better than the places they were removed from. And yes, these things do happen. But so do many, many others.

small successes

Today I want to share some of the other things.

Last Friday, a thirteen-year-old I only recently met had dinner with me. She told me about her birthday plans, her family, and her school. She told me that she thinks I’m stylish (which, trust me, I am not). She asked me questions about my life, about high school and college and other opportunities she is looking forward to but about which she is nervous. Then, we went window-shopping. And we both had a great time!

On Monday, one of my teenagers had a doctor’s appointment. Her foster mother- who has never been a parent before and is still learning the ropes- came with the teenager even though she didn’t really have to. She had a second sick child with her and got him an appointment. Then she got him his prescription from the pharmacy and got everyone lunch. Finally, she traveled home to get yet another child and bring him back for a therapy appointment, despite the fact that she lives an hour away. I missed a phone call from her when I was in a training, but when I asked what was wrong the answer was, “Don’t worry, we sorted it out”. This might seem like a regular day for most parents, but for a person who all of a sudden found herself with three children ages four, seven, and sixteen, it’s a lot. I felt so happy to see those words from someone who has relied heavily on my assistance in the past.

family blocks

Wednesday was a rough day. It was one of those days where there was too much to do and not enough time, and I was tense knowing that I had to supervise a visit which is usually very emotionally draining for the kids, the parent, and me. And honestly, it was. But at the end of the day, I got hugs and “I love you”s from two adorable children. I even got an unprompted apology for difficult behavior from a five-year-old. Anyone who has ever worked with kids knows how much that means!

At that same visit, the children’s grandmother gave me a mini portable radio and some batteries. She had it at her house and thought that I might like it at my desk when I’m working late at the office, “just because”. She’s expressed that she knows my job can be hard and that she’s grateful for what I am trying to do for her grandchildren.

Finally, on Thursday I had a birth parent who has been away for a year visit with her children for the first time. It may have started off a bit shaky, but it ended well. The foster parent, who is a family member, and the biological mom put their differences aside to ensure the kids felt safe and loved. The three-year-old gave me an Easter egg with candy in it because he was “coming to my house”. (He thinks I live at the agency.) He even let me keep the candy after taking it back once or twice. I ate it while writing this blog. I know you’re curious- it was Starburst.

These things may seem small. You may see them in your life, with your friends or your family, and think nothing of it. Genuine conversations, dinners, gifts, expressions of love, apologies, and managing crazy schedules happen all the time. Unfortunately, many people do not think of these things when they think of foster care.

I really wish they would.

celebrate small victories

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It Takes A Village

Musings on Terminology in the Foster Care World


I recently had the privilege of supporting a birth parent on my caseload as she surrendered her parental rights so that her two year old daughter, A, could be adopted by her foster parents. The Judge explained the proceedings to A’s mom to ensure that she understood the finality of her decision and asked for a final verbal confirmation. A’s mom had an opportunity to speak through her attorney and expressed her gratitude for the foster parents and their ability to provide the stability she would not be able to offer her daughter. After this the group scrambled to find a pen, because somehow, between three attorneys, one Judge, and a case planner, nobody had a working pen. One borrowed pen later A’s mom signed a series of documents and all legal ties were severed between a child and the woman who gave her life. Twenty-four months worth of court dates, meetings, treatment referrals, and family visits culminated in a fifteen meeting hearing. It was beautiful and heart-breaking all at once and I left the court room in total awe of A’s biological mom and the strength and courage it must take for a parent to make that kind of sacrifice, the epitome of a parent wanting what is best for their child. A’s mom never completed a single mandated service and did not frequently visit but she loved her daughter dearly and wanted to give her the best quality of life possible, even if that meant asking someone else to raise her baby.

Since this hearing I have spent a significant amount of time processing the role of language in foster care, especially when it comes to engaging birth parents in discussions concerning permanency options for children other than reunification. Words have a significant amount of power in our world, often times more than we realize. There are many terms in foster care vernacular that could benefit from an updated label but none more than the term surrender. When I first started reflecting on this issue I typed the word surrender into google and found the following sentences presented to give the definition:

1 The enemy finally surrendered after three days of fighting.

2 The gunman surrendered and was taken into custody.

3 The troops were forced to surrender the fort.


Those examples do not evoke a sentiment of strength and sacrifice but rather an idea of weakness and lose. When a parent is presented with the option to surrender their parental rights I believe that many are intimidated by the terminology (and the word’s negative connotations) and refuse to even entertain the arrangement because it seems like they are giving up on their children. Although not everyone will understand or properly appreciate this statement I can tell you that 100% of the parents I have worked with love their children. Love is not the problem for a majority of cases in foster care, and it is no surprise that parents who love their children do not readily jump at the idea of signing papers that allow a Judge to terminate their parental rights. I would love to see a new term for this action that focuses on the parent’s strengths and what they are giving their child instead of what they are giving up. This does not negate the fact that a very serious discussion needs to occur so that parents completely understand the legal implications of their actions, but I think it would be beneficial for families navigating the foster care system if the lens could shift from a perspective of shame and guilt to one of empowerment and love.

While a non-voluntary termination of parental rights is usually not conducive to a continued relationship, conditional surrenders can allow parents to maintain a relationship with their child after their rights are terminated. While this situation presents its own unique set of challenges, it is, in my opinion, the best of both worlds for a child who cannot be safely reunified with their parents. This arrangement allows for the child to be raised in a safe and stable home while also benefiting from a connection with their biological families. You can NEVER have too many people loving a child. When it comes to establishing permanency there is no room to be selfish and if a child calling two people mom is the biggest concern in a parent’s world then it is time to re-evaluate priorities. If it takes a village to raise a child then we need to start empowering our birth families to feel comfortable inviting new people into the village because raising a child is hard work and not everyone has the resources, skills, and support to do it alone.


It has been about a month since the surrender in court and tonight I visited A in her foster home. She is a bright, energetic, and slightly bossy toddler who loves her foster (soon to be adoptive) family very much. A showed me her new Christmas gifts and ordered me to drink imaginary tea that she brewed in her new play kitchen. Her birth mother did not attend the scheduled holiday visit that A’s foster mother arranged. This does not surprise me, A’s mom has her own hurdles to jump over on her road to recovery that may take some time, but the important thing is that the lines of communication are open and the seeds of the relationship have been planted thanks to the conditional surrender. After seven non-voluntary terminations of parental rights A’s mom was able to make the choice to give her daughter a more stable childhood while also remaining in her life. A’s foster mom texts A’s birth mom pictures and messages and is open to future visits, even though she knows not all of them will happen.

The foster care system is designed to support our children and families and I would love to see that sentiment reflected in the terminology. When I look at A running around, doll and tea pot in hand, it is easy to see the positive benefits of her mother’s decision. They say it takes a village, and A’s just got a whole lot bigger.



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Questions for my Would-Be Therapist

We do not take credit for our families’ successes and accomplishments, so why are we so quick to blame ourselves for their downfalls and breakdowns?

I’m going on two years in the field and I can say that my number one struggle remains to be setting and maintaining emotional boundaries.


estabilishing personal boundaries can be really difficult


Already an issue due to the very personal way I approach the work, I find this separation almost impossible the longer I remain working alongside each family. Over time, due to the nature of the general preventive model, I am enmeshed in every way within my “strictly professional” relationships. From having a comprehensive understanding of their histories, their day to day realities to the hopes and dreams they carry for the future, it is not long before I begin to carry these as my own; before I pour my time, passion and effort into helping them achieve their goals because, damn it, they deserve it. Each and every one of them deserves a shot at stability and certainty; a moment for the chaos around them to release them from its grips, for the dust to settle so they can finally see and believe in their innate ability and self-worth. And I was put into their lives to help them with this, entering with promises already broken by virtue of my utter powerlessness to impact such entrenched patterns of injustice.

Walking alongside them day after day, I am overwhelmed in the face of the structural and cyclical blockades that threaten to strangle their capacity for self-determination. Ultimately it is all unbearably out of my control. How do I continue to pour myself into these hole-filled containers when so much of me already remains in puddles on the floor? How do I make a job sustainable that inherently triggers the failed efforts of my past to fix my own family?

I am starting to see that this is what likely leads to my feelings of personal failure when things go awry- the way they more than likely would have whether I was present in this capacity or not. Despite rationally knowing that I was not the cause of these breakdowns, my empathetic prowess works to my detriment in not allowing me to separate their devastation from my own.

It seems I care much too much. But how can I reconcile this with my fear of apathy and hopelessness jading and hardening my soul? How do I continue in this fight without allowing it to break me down in the process? How do I strike this fundamentally important balance?

I don’t have the answers here. Nor do I have the funds to afford a therapist that might be more able to guide me to them. So where am I to go? Despite my consistent efforts towards self-care- maintaining a vibrant social life, doing yoga, etc etc, I cannot seem to shake these deep questions I am confronted with each and every time I step back into the office. I try to write it out in my journal and reach out to professional contacts for advice, remind myself that I am planting seeds for individual impact and I will never truly know how far that impact will reverberate out. I repeat the golden mantra of social work that “All I can do is all I can do” but somehow through all that, it just never seems to be enough.

Ultimately, my fears extend far beyond my own personal mental health concerns/existential dilemmas regarding my purpose in life. There is a startling lack of support and flexibility given to most front-line staff making the conscious decision to dedicate their lives to these efforts. I believe that among the multitudes of egregious social injustices that need to be addressed, the high turnover rate within social welfare agencies due to widespread compassion fatigue and burn-out  is an important one to talk about because it systemically perpetuates many of the issues we set out to ameliorate. Statistically, a majority of social service providers choose this profession based on a strong personal identification with the population they serve. Thus, the inevitability of transference/countertransference, vicarious trauma, and other triggering experiences must be adequately supported to keep our fellow warriors in the fight instead of allowing it to break them down. If we are not given agency support and a safe space to collectively grapple with these emotional minefields, we are increasingly unable to provide this care to those we serve. In fact, the lack of consistency and apathy that prevails when these challenges go unacknowledged can result in disserving those we wish to help.

Much like what I believe my families could truly benefit from, I think we as direct practice staff need to coalesce for our common good. We need a safe and consistent space to come together to address and support each other through these trademark textbook symptoms that we face on a day to day basis that go on compounding like interest over time. Although I have yet to find the time and energy to formally channel these frustrations into a funnel of productivity, I aim to develop a curriculum to be used as a guide for us as a community of social workers to unpack the emotional baggage we so often carry alone in this line of work. A space where we share and acknowledge the burden we willingly accepted when we chose this as a profession. Where we come to realize and understand that while we made that choice alone initially, we are all in this fight together and need each other if we intend to make it out alive. Or if we simply want to avoid the additional cost of traditional therapy;)

Front-line workers need to support one another.

Front-line workers need to support one another.

So. Who’s with me?


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New Year Resolutions

Since the first day I walked in the door of my agency, I’ve spent 90% of my emotional energy and time on one case.balance-320x182

We’ll call it the Smith case. My other cases are “easy” and the Smith case is “hard”. My other parents are non compliant, deceased, or in the process of signing away their parental rights. To say Ms. Smith is present and determined would be an understatement.

There is rarely an emergency that comes up in my other cases but I could write a dozen blogs detailing the Smith case emergencies and dramas. These are the kids I transferred one night to an emergency foster home at 10pm after investigating allegations of abuse in the previous foster home. This is the case whose birth mom calls me once a week threatening to involve the media on the agencies injustices to her children or call the police. This is the case in which I get a call from the emergency line on a Saturday night informing me Ms. Smith has taken her children and is not answering her phone. This is the case I dream about; this is the birth parent I advocate strongest for; these are the children who tell me they are getting bullied in school for being foster kids and I imagine the ways I wish I could plot revenge on their bullies during my commute home. This is the case that makes me want to bang my head against the wall when Ms. Smith slips up or makes a poor judgment call. This is the case that I constantly find myself struggling over the line between professional and friend.  Some days I want to take the whole family home with me, birth mother and all.

My supervisor is aware of the effect this case has on my time and my emotions. And a while back in supervision he said something that stuck. He told me that the Smith case is my loudest case. It’s the case that demands my full attention and follows me home every night. But he encouraged me not to let my loudest case drown out my quieter ones.


Just because the kids are well behaved, the parents are not as demanding, and the foster parents are saintly, doesn’t mean they should become second priority. Foster care is meant to be temporary; a significant reason why children remain in the system for years is because they are the “quiet cases” — ones that don’t require immediate action and therefore none is taken. They are the ones that workers dream of because of how “easy” they seem. But they are so often the ones that get ignored.

My goal for the New Year is not to work any less hard on the Smith case, but to help give voice to the quieter ones.


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Motherhood & Other Unclear Lessons

I was assigned a family over a year ago where I had to conduct family therapy using a phone interpretation service because the mother with six children was Spanish-speaking (I am not). The mother was also undocumented. After managing to make some therapeutic headway in the first few months, the family struggled to maintain stable housing and became homeless at the start of the summer. This family of seven ended up moving on a temporary basis into one bedroom of an apartment with two other undocumented families.

Back in August, I typed out the below entry on my phone to process my feelings about a failed home visit where I was going to give the family metro cards to come into my office for a session to address the family’s concerns in privacy:

I want to be angry or feel that the mother is ungrateful but I do not feel those things. Yes, I tried my best to ensure that this visit would occur and even gave mom an out by asking her to just text me if she won’t be home. Yes, I advocated for the family to be provided round trip metro cards to our office because I know it would be unrealistic and unfair to expect the family (one mom, six kids) to come on their own. And I wanted her to come to see me for once so we could have a meaningful conversation in a private, comfortable space with the aid of phone interpretation so that her kids do not need to be burdened with being spokespersons and she can feel safe that other families are not overhearing her business.

But I also understand that in the grand scheme of all their problems, talking with me isn’t high on her priority list. So what I’m left feeling is sadness. Sadness that really and honestly, there isn’t much of anything I can do for this family in their current situation. I am a family therapist. And while I can and should accommodate the realities of many of our clients in child welfare, I’m simply not equipped to help them with concrete needs. I’m not a housing specialist. I don’t have an array of resources at my disposal to provide undocumented families the necessities they need.

Refer them elsewhere. That’s the response. It’s the right move. And yet, it feels so hollow. We all know too well how many families fall through the cracks when they change programs or agencies. After nearly 8 months of working with this family and with the last 2 months of the family being homeless, this sliding down the slippery slope of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, I can’t help but feel what was the point of all this?

“We plant seeds. It’s not about solving their problems but about giving them the tools to face them more effectively. It’s the reality too many undocumented families face,” and so on. None of this gives me solace. I am just tired… and tired of expending more energy on a family that’s really beyond my or my agency’s capabilities.

I do acknowledge that there are strengths and some resources present in this mother and her family. But I can say with objectivity I’m not of much use to this family right now.
I’m not frustrated or angry. I’m just… Tired.


By the end of October, the family eventually ended up in an exceptionally safe and comfortable shelter and I was able to transfer the case to a nearby general preventive program to a dedicated worker who was also Spanish-speaking. I also got to have a very touching termination visit with the mom and children. Language barriers and evidence-based model protocols aside, I figured this was the closest to success I was going to achieve with this case.

Then in mid November, I came to learn the devastating news from the new worker that mom had been hospitalized, was found to be terminally ill, and was not going to be discharged. ACS planned to find permanent placements for the children (ages 7 to 13). I broke down.

In spite of all the problems and instability, the one constant in the lives of these children was their mother. While mom had grown more weary and drained over the year, the children remained high spirited and resilient. This mom was clearly doing something many things right no matter what her ACS worker said.

Unfortunately, this is where their story ended for me. It will be someone else’s job to see the next chapter of their story unfold. I am left mourning the loss of a woman who faced countless struggles and at times made me feel my weariest as her worker, but who unquestionably championed at being a mother.

My work with this family taught me that while my role as a social worker may often feel unclear, unsatisfying, and ultimately, not enough, it does not mean the work/effort/connection was in vain. There are not always clear lessons to be learned or closure to be gained. And I am learning to be okay with that.

My thoughts are with her children.

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Overcoming the Devils


“We don’t get many days like this.” Not a line one expects to hear at the closing of a High School Valedictorian’s speech but one that so powerfully captures the essence of life as a 19-year-old graduate in Foster Care. As I sat at the ceremony then and as I reflect now on my past year of work, this statement not only applies to youth in foster care but also to those who work relentlessly to change this.

On my first day of work, I asked each young man to write down their “words to live by” as well as the one place in the world that they would travel to if circumstance was no barrier. I hoped to use this to create a wall in the cottage that could grow as new residents came and serve as a testament to all those who left. One in particular recited a Bob Marley lyric I know well “Overcome the Devils with a Thing Called Love.”

Social Workers, notoriously branded as do-gooders are not immune to life’s devils. There is the devil of working more for lower wages. There is the devil of others looking down on you for being over-worked and under-paid. There is the devil of working with other over-worked and under-paid colleagues who take out their daily frustrations on you. There is the devil of bureaucracy. There is the devil of doing everything in your power for your youth and families only for your efforts, for reasons beyond anyone’s foreseeable control, to inevitably fail. There is the devil of becoming every kind of Social Worker that you swore that you never would.

Working within a metropolis such as New York City one can in a few short subway stops travel from a neighborhood of extreme poverty to the literal epitome of excessive wealth. Across the country, youth of color remain represented in Foster Care at a disproportionate rate. LGTBQ youth in the foster care system face increased homelessness. At its best, the systems we employ keep children and their families’ safe; create opportunities for growth, and in doing so remedy some of the harsh realities of this systemic oppression. At its worst; these systems employ the same cycles of oppression to their youth, families, and staff. It is not difficult to become both victim and perpetrator of this cycle that at its root is really just fed by hopelessness.

Hopelessness is bred through an exhaustion of all possible options. I am not hopeless. To begin, all work on a fundamental level is “Social Work.” With the opportunity, everyone who is capable and willing works so that they can sustain and generally better life in our social environment. “Social Workers” should not be the only individuals in this world loaded, even symbolically by name, with this task. When we realize that the systemic cycle of oppression, inadequate mental health care, and poverty is a burden that we should all share regardless of our profession, we have tackled the greatest obstacle. As Rita Mae Brown once said, “don’t hope more than you are willing to work.”


Above all we most effectively help others when we help ourselves. Funding aimed at strengthening preventive programs that can work within homes before removing children from homes allow families an opportunity to effectively parent, addresses trauma early on, and prevents system overload. Agencies and Social Workers that continue to strive to cap caseloads through mandates, pay higher and fairer wages by re-evaluating the budget, and reduce burnout by allowing the flexibility of occasionally working at home make small movements towards this goal. Those in leadership roles who treat Social Workers with compassion and value their strengths will find that Social Workers treat their youth and families the same.


One of the most respected therapeutic crisis intervention trainers on our Residential Treatment Center campus opens each session with a personal anecdote. On his way out of campus after a long late night shift, a resident in crisis darted out in front of him and ran into his car. While the resident was not injured, everyone around them immediately surrounded the young boy. Paralyzed by what had just occurred, after checking on the boy, this trainer sat in his car, un-sure what to do next. Surely he contemplated whether it was worth coming back to work the next day or ever again. Unexpectedly, the boy’s mother approached the Trainer and asked how he was doing. If not for this small gesture, this now well-respected Cottage Supervisor may not have made it another day on the job. As we make tiny dents gradually over time, we will see good work get better. At the heart of all gut-wrenching positive change, after all, is that thing called love.


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