The first few weeks of school have been hectic, but good so far. I am trying to maintain my sanity with my CONSTANT running to class, to FP (filed placement) straight to work until midnight or after and repeat. I work, have class hours and attend FP for about 56+ hours a week, plus homework and research. It leaves very little time for fully focusing and truly absorbing reading, but I think as themes and theories are compounded by life experience, fp, and research, they will sink in more. I am enjoying the curriculum, and the course load seems manageable if I buckle down every spare moment. I hope my friends don't disown me, but there will be little time for leisurely dates.
My FP is at a small agency uptown that deals with finding services for clients on parole, work-release or recently having served a full sentence. We find housing, services, and provide group work support for relapse prevention and anger management, and provide general counseling and support. I hope to take advantage of my contact hours as much as possible and hope to establish myself as a dedicated and caring worker. The staff is young and very relaxed, fun and encouraging, so I feel at home already. Direct care really provides a forum for that. I think the work deals so much with people and caring that it is emotionally straining enough for people to impose strict rules and not act like a family anyway with their common compassion for the clients.
I also value the fact that I am working in Harlem, and within a short subway ride become a minority in a neighborhood that prides itself on its people, sometimes to the point of making their neighborhood minorities uncomfortable, or unwanted feeling. I accept the challenge and keep my head held high, feeling empathy for the fact that for these residents, this microcosm I thrive in for a few hours a week is possibly their global reality.
Wow. I just sat in on my first real day of interacting with clients. Working with this new population I think is going to be wonderful, and trying, and full of falter and learning. Even though I knew to be cautious of it, I've already been struck with the realization that I need to discard any pretenses and just be myself if I am to be affective with these clients. I surely took in more than I can put into words today, and I'm sure there will be lots of observations to follow. I found the familiar comfort that I found working with the MR/DD population, people in need are people in need, and there aren't a particular set of gloves to handle them with. The underlying draw of empathy and desire to provide care usurps any preconceived notions of marginalized populations, and it is such a liberating thing to experience.
Sitting in the anger management group, everyone went around to say something about themselves. Some shared more than others, and some went into real detail about their depression and loss in the past few months. I listened actively, but felt a bit helpless, wanting to be able to say something magical or offer something. Then, I was kinda put on the spot by the facilitator and nervously tried to offer something to a participant. It's going to be a long way to go before I feel like I'm am in the green and am free to speak and have something of value to offer.
After the ice was broken, the second group, relapse prevention, was much better for me. I felt accepted, and the group made a point to invite me in. I felt proud of them, they were strong and supportive and really on each others' sides. At one point, someone got emotional and everyone was cheering him on, proclaiming their love, and one man got up to embrace him. As I sat next to him, I resisted the urge to rub his back like I would one of my MR/DD guys. It was really beautiful to see the common strength of the group supporting their peer. Human strength and beauty truly reside in us all, no matter how we are labeled or what mistakes we have made. It makes me value life more. Value freedom, and choice and acceptance. Well, time for sleep now, btu more reflection to come.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment