Picture this....

Many of you know that I am a care coordinator for a social service agency in Milwaukee. I love working in the city and being in the trenches.  Aside of 6 years at Elmbrook....I have worked in the city since 1995.  I've pretty much experienced it all.  From cockroaches on the wall that I was informed were pets....to my car being stolen....to finding naked girls hiding in a bathroom....to putting a youth out of my car.  This current position is draining and life giving at the same time. It is too much work for one person but we roll up our sleeves and get the work done because the families are there.  My role is helping families with youth who have a mental health diagnosis that is hindering them in some area of their life. Often revolving around school and home life.  As the young people I work with near the teen years, it can often also lead to delinquency, truancy, run away behavior.  The parents play a big role...often times more than they are willing to admit or allow themselves to see.  Our goal is to put together a team of providers to help meet the youth's needs.

I want to share an experience I had today with you.  All in a day's work.

Picture, if you would, this situation in your mind.

Today I saw a young lady express herself clearly in an appointment. Share what she was thinking. Talk about some of the things frustrating her. She is living in a group home and there are definitely strained family dynamics. She is beautiful. Big smile, hair always up, often shuffling along in slipper/shoes and almost always on her phone.

At the end of the appointment, as we were preparing to walk out, her mom showed up. Late. And neither of us had known she was coming.  The appointment was over.

Despite my best efforts their conversation and verbal aggression escalated as we walked to the cars. Daughter wanted mom to know she's maturing and she's not who she was. Mom wants to know why she isn't going to school and sits on social media all day. There was back and forth about other things as well. The discussion grew heated to the point of each of them calling the other all kinds of bitches and retard and stupid ass.  As each stepped to the other...I reminded them of all the coping strategies they could use...actually wondering if I was gonna have to call the mobile crisis team or dust off my boxing gloves to bring about calm.  Mom interrupted me to say that her daughter had started it.  I encouraged her to take a moment and compose herself and walk away.

As she walked away, she gave her daughter a smug smile and said, 'Oh yea-so mature. That's great. Be mature. Keep makin all those smart choices you're makin. Right. Okayyyyyy.'

Grateful I was able to have a good conversation with the young lady as I drove her back to the group home. She is a gem. Bright, funny.... full of attitude and pain.  So much creativity. So much heart.  Lots of hurt there.  Little hope. And I get to try and do my little piece to switch that reality so that someday there might be little hurt there and lots of hope.

Some days I am feel more equipped than others. That's part of working with people.  I choose to and know I am meant to do that.  It's a combination of social worker, therapist, case manager, big sister, friend, confidant, teacher.  It's part of the fabric of who I am.



Also part of the fabric of who I am....challenges you to answer the following honestly.  If you truly pictured this situation in your head (and if not feel free to go back now and read it again)



This daughter.


This mother.



In your mind.....




What race/ethnicity did you see them as?

Because they are white.


That's what I got today.