“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. 2nd Edition. Sage.
Ellen,
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed reading your post, I found that when starting my field placement this fall I felt uneasy and many question filtered through when directly dealing with the population as well. I would often think as you did to best address questions that would arise each and everyday. There were many days that I would question my placement and what I could be doing better to address the need the population has. It is always hard to be the outsider but I think as time goes on our growth in our placement becomes evident, like you said this is our first formal endeavor in the social work community practice.
Thank you for sharing!
Thank you for sharing your experience. I can identify with questioning my ability to relate to people in genuine ways in my field placement. I am at DHHS Office of Child and Family services in Augusta and have been doing home studies for mostly kinship placement. Asking difficult questions and insisting on a thorough walk through of each home was very uncomfortable. Stating out loud that I understood it was a difficult scenario and that the only reason was to make sure that children are in a safe environment and to think if they were placing their beloved infant into someone else's home, would they want to be sure of a safe environment? It has always been easy for me to broach difficult topics with family and friends. Now I'm getting more comfortable after having done a few interviews and are not so skiddish about going into a new homestudy situation.
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