A L L A N R E E S
I’m a generic social worker who’ll quite happily work in children’s or adult services.
I’ve been qualified for 4½ years and started off with most of my training being in adult services as well as my first job in an adults team lasting a year on a temporary contract until I had to leave due to [the then UK Chancellor] George Osborne’s austerity warnings causing local authorities to panic and cut people like me off. I moved over to the one place where you are certain to get a job, front line child protection, and I’m just starting a new job in adult hospital discharge.
Becoming a qualified social worker was down to two reasons. The first reason has a few caveats to it. I had been working in the social care sector for around 7 years; prior to that I was working in youth clubs with teenagers whilst not being far off a teenager myself. Due to working for a social care agency I had a varied amount of experience, from working in day centres for older people, to brain injury residential homes, family hostels, pupil referral units, residential units for adults with learning difficulties, children’s homes, private nurseries – the list went on. During this time, observing how these agencies met people’s needs, I felt two things: for the majority of people using the services they were quite happy and their needs were evidently met; however, I met enough people who weren’t happy and I felt a lot more could have been achieved for them simply by listening to what they had to say. A few of the people using the services I met and got to know used to say to me that I’d make a good social worker which got me to contemplate about becoming one.
The second reason I became a social worker is my younger brother who, during my journey through social care, became mentally unwell to quite a significant level. He was sectioned a number of times, there were incidents where he once attacked me, was arrested a number of times as well as causing unbearable stress and worry to my parents. Observing his experience in the mental health system and how he was stuck in that revolving door of recovery and then illness made me determined to want to learn that system so I could advocate for him better. To be truthfully honest, becoming a social worker did help, as I learned that despite his high level of need, the services meant to help him only worked with him at points of crises with no proper assessment and analysis of his needs. Without training to be social worker I would probably never understood the link between a proper assessment, the analysis and then care planning. I was able to help my brother get what he needed to live a stable life as well as gain a lot of insight into the theory behind his illness even though I’ve never worked in a mental health team.
I chose Marbles because …
… roughly four years ago I started my first ever job as a social worker. I arrived and met my team then got on with making my desk my own by clearing old papers from it and moving some stuff that had been clearly dumped.
Whilst underneath the desk I found a small bag of marbles. I crawled back out and said jokingly “Look someone lost their marbles!”
An unqualified member of staff who’d been quite an established and long standing member of the team looked up and said, “That was probably from the last person who sat there and walked out.”
I stood there looking at the marbles in my hand thinking about this. I thought, I’m going to keep these and never lose them. I knew that I was embarking on an extremely difficult and testing career, however I made a little promise to myself that I’d always retain my optimism.
I still have my marbles hanging on my desk. I’m actually lucky to be one of the few social workers who have desks. When times are bad and I’m up against it, I look at my marbles as a reminder to be mindful of my resilience and what it may take to tip me over and leave the profession. That little bit of reflection helps a lot and let’s me think about how I’m going to tackle whatever mountain is in front of me.