Are We Done Yet? Never-ending Problem Solving.

I am admittedly very tied to outcomes (personal, individual client’s goal achievement, and group project products). Last semester, in our practice course, when learning about the solution-oriented therapy modality, I immediately latched onto this, thinking , “this makes sense to me - this is a pragmatic approach, there are clear action steps - there is a measurable end in sight.” I still think like this - I can’t help it, but the further I read into the “Social Labs Revolution” the more impractical this thinking becomes, I realize. Even though Dr. G’s saying, “solutions to problems only create new problems” rings through my brain, I’m only just beginning to accept the “ongoing” nature of tackling complex, messy, social issues.

Haisson (2014) articulates this really well when he says, “We have to keep reminding ourselves that such outcomes cannot be theoretically falsifiable in advance. We cannot, in other words, know what new solutions to problems and challenges are before they are created, discovered, or invented; otherwise we would have implemented them already. Where we demand certainty, or falsifiable theory, before we act, we are essentially asking for an elimination of risk and failure. It’s a bit like asking for a guarantee of a great insight, a great discovery, or a great piece of art” (p. 103). I loved this statement - and in order to begin in any sort of social lab or large scale community problem solving - I feel like I need to get this tatoo-ed on my forehead, so that I don’t forget it!

So much of this statement and process goes against instinct - how can we possibly jump into the social problem solving process without any sort of specific hope, quantifiable goal, or predicted practice method? Doing any of the above, however, Haisson argues, runs the risk of resorting to ‘BAU’ (business as usual), and failure to employ real group innovation - the purpose of a social lab.

On one hand, the practical side of me is discouraged - if I am working on a team to address a social issue, in order to feel a sense of completion, I undoubtedly desire an outcome, or sense of success or inability to meet goals. On the other hand, acceptance of the continual nature of this work, and submission to the idea that there are no absolute solutions is oddly liberating (the more times I hear the message, and attempt to digest it).

Bringing together a team of multi-disciplined innovators and planners to tackle a messy issue allows for creativity in practice that might not otherwise be achieved. For this to be most impactful, team members have to accept and adopt a lack of outcome - open to all possibilities - because as Haisson says, if the easy, and positive solution existed, it already would have been implemented.

I’m really starting to grasp the fact that there will never be a shortage of social issues over which to grapple. All progress will have future limitations, but that is not an excuse not to engage in the work and get messy. 

When we talk and debate (in and outside of class) about the duty of social workers to fight for social justice (versus engaging in solely private practice work etc.), it seems to me like social workers deserve a seat in these deliberation groups, and in some ways, it is our duty to find our way into those groups that are of greatest interest to us.

Reference:

Haisson, Z. (2014). The social labs revolution: A new approach to solving our most

complex challenges. San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, Inc.

Struggle for Authenticity and the Motivation to Engage in Community Practice

            “Are you an addict?”

            “Are you in recovery?”

            “No I mean… it’s just really interesting that you’re here.”

            “Aren’t you the student?”

            “Why are you interested in substance abuse?”

            “I mean… no offense or anything but… why are you here?”

           

            These are questions and comments that I hear daily at my field placement. In the therapeutic environment with clients, I have learned to respectfully deflect these questions, advised that any sort of boundary defining response serves little to no therapeutic purpose. I’ve practiced, and am slowly improving at this. To be honest, I barely hear these questions, or my responses anymore – but that wasn’t always the case.

            Internally, I was really grappling with my answers to some of these, and in some ways struggling with feelings of group exclusion.  Am I an addict? No! Can I share that with friends? Yes! Is there a personal interest and history with drugs and alcohol? Absolutely. Am I ashamed of the continual presence of alcoholism in my family? Definitely. Repeatedly probed with these questions, by about December, I suffered a genuine loss of self, motivation, and sense of place. “I lost my mojo” – my original desire to work in the substance abuse field – and my insecurity showed.

            Somewhere in there, in confidence with a friend, I finally melt down, and reconnected with my passion in this field. There is enough of a “heart-tug” connection to the work (in relation to my father, and other people I love), and genuine interest in the impacts and treatments of drugs and alcohol (both of which I no longer feel obligated or compelled to shout off the rooftops as justification to anyone who asks), that following my meltdown, I felt like I recognized my own authenticity – my own sense of place – and got comfortable.

            It was after this internal resolution that my connection with clients professionally deepened, that I gained the comfort that comes with a little time an experience in any setting.

            The more I’ve learned about substance abuse, and specifically treatment, in Maine, the more glaringly apparent the social injustices in the field become. Specifically, looking at things through a critical feminist lens, the staggering difference between the numbers of male versus female treatment beds. It’s easy to look at the statistics of this and feel acceptance – “wow, this is unfair, but this is just the way things are.” As much as I am growing to love clinical practice, I recognize that this issue is a community practice issue. Between our initial research course, and this community practice course, I feel like I’m actually gaining some of the skill needed to have any ability to address this issue in a meaningful way – something I absolutely lacked at the start of the program (passion aside).

            Involvement in this community practice project, and the nature of the research specifically, could not have come at a more appropriate time. In order to gather data, and meaningfully make the case that some of the detox practices are (or aren’t) effective, and in turn monitor client’s substance use over time (something that Milestone does not currently have the capacity to do), as researchers, we are going to be entering the community and engaging with clients outside of the human services sector, conducting relational work for a year. The tie to the literature we are reading in research is clear, however, there is definitely a connection to participatory practice and the participation theories we are thinking about in this course (Weil, 133). The substance abuse community (client and service providers) are heatedly advocating for increased services, and documentation of current practices that “work.” This information we hope to gather is supported by the community, which will hopefully increase client’s willingness to participate for the full term. Had I gone into this project with cold feet, feeling out of place and unjustified (similar to the way I felt in December), having no relationship with the clients to sustain, it may have been even more difficult to find clients who would agree to participate. Our discussion on authenticity, entering a community (as an outsider), and advocated for mutually supported change hit home with me, as I am beginning my first formal endeavor in social work community practice.

Reference:

Weil, M., Reisch, M., & Ohmer, M. (2013). The Handbook of Community

Practice. 2^nd Edition. Sage.