life as a social worker can be arduous. there are entire seasons when you feel as if you aren’t taking a single step forward with any project you are working on. it’s life in quicksand and you only have a snake’s head to pull yourself and the people around you out.
Tag: social work
resurrection: a work in progress
i lost my shit but
pretended like i was holding it together while leading entire groups in
prayer circles and investigating the bottom of the rock we all found
ourselves looking up from.
If It Looks Like Madness but takes Serious Planning Chances Are It’s Working
I create a different curriculum each year for the therapy groups I facilitate. I don’t call my groups therapy like most social workers. There are no children of incarcerated parents group, no ADHD group, nor is there a social skills group. Kids hate having to go to ‘those’ groups. Although they will loudly proclaim…
showing up (a day late, a dollar short)
have you done this before? his question was innocent his eyes unyielding mask off this pain is all consuming. I mean are you familiar with what to do? have you done ‘this’ before? my head swims with 21 years worth of sorrows names no longer matching the right faces, circumstances now skewed. was it domestic…
i breath, i write (a manifesto in 4 parts)
i. little girls should not make their beds in domestic violence shelters. my day begins. hostage to teenage angst and true crises, bullets blast through communities, the aftershock a ripple effect reaching into everyone’s finances. you’d think it was all about thugs and suicidal watches but its those close calls, those near falls…
Lessons I’ve Learned from Children
Children don’t often tell stories in a straight line. They give you fragments. Small pieces from different events dished out over time. As a therapist working with children it’s important to chronicle these bits so together with the kids in your care you can assemble the puzzle that brought them to you in the first…
He is running. If I had a speed radar gun I could probably clock him at 10 miles per hour. But I don’t so I’m only guessing. I just know that he’s running and in the next 15 seconds he’s going to hit me at full speed. A smarter woman would move. At least sideways…