As many of you know, I recently started a new job. Helping ppl. Specifically, I work w/kids in inner city Washington, DC, who are underpriveleged and in need of mental health services. In fact, most of them are in need of new parents, but as a result of having only shit ones, these kids now need mental health services. Which I provide.
The first six wks. of this little karmic experiment went pretty well, meaning that although my kids all have terrible backgrounds and I saw terrible thgs. related to them (e.g., schools w/o electricity, teenage neighbors w/handguns, mom w/eight kids notifying me of being pregnant w/#9, etc.), my kids themselves did a pretty good job of keeping it together. At least when they were w/me, which, I will admit, is my top priority. Ideally, I would like for these kids to be able to act straight in all settings -- that is sort of the point of our work, after all -- but to be honest, that is simply not going to be possible for most of them. So if they can act like a normal, rational human being for a couple of hrs. ea. wk. while they're w/me, fab-o.
Unfortunately, reality, it seems, has finally begun to set in. One girl has decided she would rather return to juvenile detention than follow the rules at home. One of my boys is temporarily banished fr. my car b/c he found it impossible to keep his seatbelt on and not touch the steering wheel while we drove. Another boy has refused to attend evening substance abuse treatment, instead choosing to escalate his abuse, abscond fr. home, and necessitate involuntary hospitalization. And those are just the highlights -- I could continue in this manner w/all 18 of my cases.
Last wk., at the beginning of the end, as I stood explaining to one of my kids why I was going to have to call her probation officer and then the police as a result of her intransigently unsafe, belligerent behavior, I recalled a scene fr. my interview for this job. My future supervisors asked me what I did to relax, how did I go home at the end of a hard day in the pits of Hell and make myself feel better. This question was not actually surprising, given the nature of this job, and I made an apparently satisfactory answer involving social support, music, and horseback riding. But what surprised me was the answer that almost immediately flew fr. my mouth, the answer that, even half-joking though it was intended, would have been a deal breaker had it slipped forth: "I drink a lot."
And so I do. Not generally during the wk. (though that is not a hard and fast rule) and def. not while I am at work, but I do -- I drink a lot.
The first six wks. of this little karmic experiment went pretty well, meaning that although my kids all have terrible backgrounds and I saw terrible thgs. related to them (e.g., schools w/o electricity, teenage neighbors w/handguns, mom w/eight kids notifying me of being pregnant w/#9, etc.), my kids themselves did a pretty good job of keeping it together. At least when they were w/me, which, I will admit, is my top priority. Ideally, I would like for these kids to be able to act straight in all settings -- that is sort of the point of our work, after all -- but to be honest, that is simply not going to be possible for most of them. So if they can act like a normal, rational human being for a couple of hrs. ea. wk. while they're w/me, fab-o.
Unfortunately, reality, it seems, has finally begun to set in. One girl has decided she would rather return to juvenile detention than follow the rules at home. One of my boys is temporarily banished fr. my car b/c he found it impossible to keep his seatbelt on and not touch the steering wheel while we drove. Another boy has refused to attend evening substance abuse treatment, instead choosing to escalate his abuse, abscond fr. home, and necessitate involuntary hospitalization. And those are just the highlights -- I could continue in this manner w/all 18 of my cases.
Last wk., at the beginning of the end, as I stood explaining to one of my kids why I was going to have to call her probation officer and then the police as a result of her intransigently unsafe, belligerent behavior, I recalled a scene fr. my interview for this job. My future supervisors asked me what I did to relax, how did I go home at the end of a hard day in the pits of Hell and make myself feel better. This question was not actually surprising, given the nature of this job, and I made an apparently satisfactory answer involving social support, music, and horseback riding. But what surprised me was the answer that almost immediately flew fr. my mouth, the answer that, even half-joking though it was intended, would have been a deal breaker had it slipped forth: "I drink a lot."
And so I do. Not generally during the wk. (though that is not a hard and fast rule) and def. not while I am at work, but I do -- I drink a lot.
