Stuff Social Workers Like edition: Smelling like someone else's dinner.

Usually, I walk out of my foster homes pretty unscathed.  Today though, brought on another one of my fab faves about my job.

Now, one might usually find this phenomenon in the college cafeteria, or walking past The Chat, at Arcadia University. 

I'm talking about the fried chicken smell that attaches itself securely to whatever you happen to be wearing that day.  Tee Shirt?  Jeans?  Wool jacket?  Buisness attire?

It smells great wafting from a foster parent's kitchen, and you're starving because its 6:30pm, and you haven't left "work" yet.  I've had parents offer me food, and the professional thing is to politely decline.  It would just open up a whole power dichotomy that could make things a little more difficult.

So I decline.

Once that scrumptious fried chicken smell leaves that kitchen though.  Ick!  Nothing like stale fried chicken smell on your wool coat.

Snappy Replies

Ugh!!!!  Sometimes it can be so difficult to quietly reply when I'm angry, or annoyed, or flusterred. 

This happens especially when I am at Lisa's, and I'm "in charge" of the youth in her home.  I'd rather play the big sister role, but that always goes hand in hand with a bit of authority.  If you knew me well, you'd know its not a mask that I wear willingly.  I like being the fun one who takes them out for a rare treat to Starbucks (or dunkin donuts, which is wayyy more economical these days...). 

I'm not one to sit back and watch them be cruel to each other either.  I strongly dislike it when the girls in the home take out their frustrations on my poor little brother.  He is almost always the only boy, who happens to always be the youngest.  He is my buddy, and I love spending time with him.  His extreme willingness to chime in to help, has delegated him the nick name, "the back seat driver," on more than one occasion.  I've been giving him some suggestions this past weekend, to help him avoid being snapped at so much because he deserves love and patience. 

I find myself doing the exact "snapping" towards my sisters, as I despise so much when it is directed towards little brother.  I also find myself snapping at the dogs (who are dopes by the way).  Its frustrating, because I know that I very much need to practice what I preach.  In order to teach the importance of tone in conversation, I need to be able to demonstrate it.  In order to teach about emotion and feelings, I need to respect theirs as well.  In order to share Christ's love for them, I need to bow down and become humble about the oftentimes small role I will play in many of these girls' lives. 

I also wear the "battered veteran" hat in the home.  I've been there and have done that, and am living to tell the tale.  I try to remember what it was like in their shoes and I find that it helps immensely, but lets face it.  I wasn't that "cool" even when I was a teenager.  So relating to them on their level can be very trying sometimes, and takes work.  I decided that I appreciate the difficulty of having teenage foster youth in your home now more than ever! 

So today I vow to practice better and more loving ways to interact with my siblings, and to practice what I preach.  :-)


Love,

Babs<3

Organization

I've been deadly serious about cleaning my room these past few days.  I am desperately trying to throw stuff that I do not need into the rubbish bin.

Its really difficult when for so long, I held onto everything! A friend of mine posted an organization blog by Ramona Creel.  I figure, why not get the down and dirty on organization?  It might help out.

Communications!

Please be patient as I play around with syncing my blogger, twitter and Facebook Accounts.  Any advice would be great.

Out of Home Placement and Permanency Planning

Oh yeah, I know that.  My first Charting the course training as an alumni trainer went off without a hitch.  I was really nervous about the content.  I usually do jump right into these things.  I like interacting, and being certain about what I know.


There were many many emotions while we progressed through the curriculum.  In some respects, I feel like a failed case worker.  I have two years of experience as a child welfare case manager, and I resigned.  Its a really hard job, and fortunately, there aren't many of you who would disagree.  Its not a job for everyone, and the clients deserve a worker who has their crap together.  I try to make myself feel better by insisting that I am playing my part on a Macro level.  I'm training the newest of the new case workers.  Since I was a constituent, I have a lot of intuition about best practice.  I still can't help but feel guilty, when I fell victim to being a new case worker in many of the practices I practiced.  I never had the chance to develop a mastery of the craft.  It really is an art form in many respects.  


Alas,  my direct practice is working with the Pennsylvania Youth Advisory Board and its young inspiring leaders.  I look forward to working with them one on one.  I count it as a deep blessing that being an independent trainer, affords me a lot of time to leadership and community development.  I realize now that my little blog on the web does not have a focus anymore, but I've always found solace in writing, and writing I shall do!  


Have a great week.


Babs<3

Direction

No longer do I know where life is taking me.  I only have immediate steps that lead to a means to an end.  Its what I've wanted, but I have no direction.  Quite honestly, there isn't any passion either.  I do not want to do the things I used to want so badly.  

I'm bored.

I'm not bored because I've accomplished anything, I haven't.  Child welfare has been quite literally: my. whole. life.

I think there are other things out there that I would like to try, but what? What would I like to do, other than working with the monstrosity that is the child welfare system?  What population or job force could use my talents?  

To that, I have no answer.  No answers for me.  I am sure they will come, but its a weird place for me to be.