Today I said goodbye to one of my favorite clients who is also one of my favorite people in general. B just finished the fifth grade and is moving down South on the last day of school. We've been working together since November and she was such a dedicated kid. She came every week and impressed me with her courage and tenacity to work through her sadness and anger. Her parents were in the process of separating (not mutually, however) and she was struggling with the idea of "losing her family." At 5am on the morning of her birthday, she awoke to the sound of police officers in her kitchen arresting her father for alleged sexual assault. A few days before, she had told me that her parents were planning to take her to the Build-A-Bear store in the mall on her birthday and that the three of them were going to have a special dinner together. She was so excited, and I think mostly about her parents spending time together and fulfilling her vision of a "happy family." I told her that it must have been really sad and scary to have her father arrested, especially on her special day. I know I have to say the "tough things" to kids, but sometimes it gnaws at me. I was so furious at her father. It's difficult to sit with kids in that moment and realize that you can't make it better; you can just try to contain some of their rage and sadness.
During the months that we worked together, B constantly amazed me. One day she told me that she was having a hard time finding the words for her feelings. Since she loves to paint, I suggested she try and paint the feelings--their colors, shapes, textures, sizes, etc. I never know what's going to happen when I ask kids to engage in these kinds of activities and B blew me away. She painted these blocks of different colors and varying sizes and then, without missing a beat, proceeded to tell me what each of the blocks represented: sadness and confusion, excitement about new friends, anger, sadness about missing her friends, and finally, a gray block, "this is like nothing, just feeling nothing." She did have the words.
The end of the school year is just a few short days away. Although I don't have off for the summers like Dept of Ed staff, I can work at a slower, less chaotic pace and finally finish up those treatment plans from 3 months ago. But like I told Y, one of my kindergarteners (soon to be a first grader), all change can be difficult, even if we are looking forward to it and even if it is positive. Her mother was concerned about a recent pattern of enuresis (involuntary wetting) during the day and night. Based on Y’s history, particularly that the same thing happened at the beginning of kindergarten, I think she is anxious about the end of the year.
I too feel anxious, but not because I'm nervous about whether or not I will like my new teacher in September. I'm distressed because I can't believe another year has gone by--how did that happen?? I'm anxious because I feel that a change has to occur in my life and soon, and unlike 5 year-old Y, I am the only one who can initiate that change. I've had several moments (even after I passed my mid 20's) in which I reveled in being an adult. Controlling my money, my time, my diet, my vacations and all my decisions, both big and little can be so empowering. But sometimes I just want someone else to make my decisions for me because change can be scary, even if it's for the best. No, I am not wetting my pants at work, but sometimes I feel like I am doing the equivalent--bingeing on ice cream and cereal, crying silently on the subway, window shopping so I can focus on finding a cute summer skirt instead of stressing about how or if to end a relationship, thus changing the course of my life that I thought I was on for the past 5 years.
But I digress. This blog is supposed to be about my job, but lately I've been spending so much time spinning in my head that it's hard to focus on my clients. This can be dangerous because I start to make session content about me--"Why is she pretending like she doesn't hear me?? Why is she angry with me?"--instead of more appropriately considering what my clients are playing out with me (because it's not really "me," it's whoever I've become through transference). Good thing I have a supervisor who brings me back to the clinical context. But sometimes I hear myself making comments or suggestions to a client and I realize that I need to be saying those same things to myself.
"Change can be really difficult and scary, even if you're excited to go to the first grade. Let's think of some times when you've had to deal to change before and how you handled it. It sounds like you were patient with yourself, and you found some things to comfort you, like painting with your mom every Saturday and imagining all the fun things you could do at your new school.
My partner and I were talking about stereotypes the other day and she told me about an upsetting experience she had in college. L was born in Honduras, grew up in Brooklyn, and went to college in a predominantly white, affluent community. At the beginning of her freshman year, she secured a work-study job in one of the college's administrative offices. After the first few weeks, a woman who had been working in the office for several years asked L how she liked the position. L told her that she was enjoying it, and the woman commented, “Yeah, keeps you off the streets, right?” L looked at her quizzically and thought to herself, “Why would I be on the streets?” It took her a minute to realize that the woman saw L’s hair and skin and had made narrow, biased assumptions about her life. Perhaps the worst part of this story is that the woman believed she was being compassionate and understanding. Oh, ignorance.
With the end of the school year fast approaching, my kids and I have been reviewing the work we’ve done together and their plans and feelings about the summer vacation. This is called termination-- perhaps a frightening term when referring to human beings, but hearing it over and over in the social work context makes it seem rather normal. For selfish reasons (I've been dreaming of leaving the US again), this has been an especially enjoyable process with E., a fourth grade girl who is going to Mexico for the summer. E. explained that she and her mother were going to her aunt’s farm for the month of July, and that E. would remain there without her mother during August. “I’m not sure if I want to go there,” she said. I asked her why and she shrugged, “Maybe I’ll get bored.” I asked her to imagine a typical day in Mexico, from waking up in the morning to going to sleep at night. She described playing with her chickens, picking mangoes, chopping avocado and garlic for her aunt's posole, riding horses, and eating hot sauce and tortillas. As she spoke, I saw a picture in my head of dry, sandy land, blurred by the intense heat of mid-afternoon sun. I saw her aunt grinding masa for fresh tortillas, “terminating” a chicken for sopa de pollo, and chopping cilantro y jalapeños on an old wooden table. I saw E. running after her baby chicks, riding a bicycle with friends, and staying outside until bedtime instead of being tempted by cable or video games. I talked to her about what an extraordinary opportunity it is to be able to experience a different way of life in another country, especially among family that loved and cared for her. She drew pictures of her aunt and her cousins with a large yellow sun burning above them. At the end of the session, she said, “Thanks, ---! I’d forgotten how fun it was to go to Mexico and now I’m excited to go.” After she left my office, I almost felt guilty for enjoying our Mexican visualization--it certainly made me excited to go! I was, however, definitely "in the moment" with E., unlike when I become anxious about my skills during a session and wander away in my mind instead of being with my client. In this case, I started where my client was at….and it was wonderful.
You might want to take a look if you are interested in social work, children, therapy, culture, race & ethnicity, documentary film, education, "cultural competence" and probably other things.
