On January 21st I marched through St. Louis with thousands of people, and for the first time in months I felt hope for our nation. I felt connected to the millions marching accross the nation and in all seven continents and was reminded of Barack Obama's famous words, "Nothing can stand in the way of the power of millions of voices calling for change." I was hopeful that it wouldn't be this bad. Nothing could’ve ever prepared me for the horror of the past three weeks. I want to be able to breath for a minute and turn on NPR without hearing that the United States' federal government is making another terrible choice. I want to run away from it all. I want to permanently turn off the news and stop caring. But I can’t do that because I am a social worker.
My upbringing and personality make situations involving confrontation terribly uncomfortable. Consequently, I am always tempted to apologetically agree with others even when I know they are doing or saying something wrong. But I’m a social worker, so I go head to head with anyone threatening the best interest of a vulnerable individual despite how uncomfortable it makes me feel. I can always find a new job, but that child is irreplaceable.
I've had moments of near hopelessness over the past three weeks. Maybe the hope I felt on January 21st was nothing but false hope created by emotion. But then I remember, "In the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope." When I can't do it anymore, I'll call my best friend who just happens to be an oncology social worker, and we will encourage one another to keep going. I don't know what will happen in week four or week five or week 208. What I do know is this: American social workers will keep fighting for vulnerable and oppressed populations and individuals every single day. And we are a force to be reckoned with.
Congrats on your engagement, Grace! I love you.
What does it mean to be a social worker? Being a social worker is more than providing group and individual counseling; It’s more than advocating for people when they feel no one else is on their side; It’s more than doing home visits to ensure the welfare and safety of children; It's more than being the person your co-worker turns to in times of stress; And it’s so much more than connecting people with community and governmental resources. Being a social worker means the day is never over and the work is never done. When I took on this title, I took on the privilege and the obligation of fighting for social justice. Social workers are protesting on the streets. We’re writing letters to members of congress. And we are calling our Senators and leaving long voicemails, begging them not to confirm that right-wing, racist and unqualified individual to the Presidential Cabinet.
My upbringing and personality make situations involving confrontation terribly uncomfortable. Consequently, I am always tempted to apologetically agree with others even when I know they are doing or saying something wrong. But I’m a social worker, so I go head to head with anyone threatening the best interest of a vulnerable individual despite how uncomfortable it makes me feel. I can always find a new job, but that child is irreplaceable.
I've had moments of near hopelessness over the past three weeks. Maybe the hope I felt on January 21st was nothing but false hope created by emotion. But then I remember, "In the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope." When I can't do it anymore, I'll call my best friend who just happens to be an oncology social worker, and we will encourage one another to keep going. I don't know what will happen in week four or week five or week 208. What I do know is this: American social workers will keep fighting for vulnerable and oppressed populations and individuals every single day. And we are a force to be reckoned with.
Congrats on your engagement, Grace! I love you.
