Tag Archives: social work

Good news for social work administrator salaries?

by nomm de photo, via Flickr's Creative Commons

The nonprofit world has been buzzing for the past few months over news of long-awaited changes in how nonprofit organizations are rated. For several years, the primary measure of nonprofit “excellence”, according to many of the sector watchdog organizations which prospective donors and others consult before making decisions of support, has been the ‘overhead’ to ‘program’ ratio (both in quotes because of their rather dubious definitions). There are tremendous problems with this very blunt measure, the most serious of which is the fact that it does not actually measure anything very helpful about a nonprofit’s work at all, namely: is it actually solving the social problem it sets out to solve?

But another problem with the reliance on overhead ratios as the benchmark of nonprofit success is its depressing effect on the salaries of those working within nonprofits because, of course, salaries are most often counted as “overhead”, especially the salaries of nonprofit administrators (anyone not engaged in direct programming).

But there is cause for hope, as macro practice social workers head for graduation this spring, when many will officially become part of nonprofit organizations’ “overhead”, applying their skills and knowledge to the effective operation of organizations that, if led by talented people with clear visions of social change and real leadership to marshal resources towards that change, will be part of the solution to our most vexing social ills.

Late last fall, Charity Navigator, the largest and most prominent of the nonprofit watchdog groups, announced that they are totally revamping their formulas for evaluating nonprofit organizations. They will heavily discount their old reliance on overhead ratios in favor of (yet unannounced) metrics that emphasize impact.

Very exciting, really, for all of us who care far more that our nonprofit organizations actually achieve what it is that they set out to do, rather than how much money they spend on salaries in order to get it done. (And, as an aside, I really think that’s just about everyone. I mean, people get all riled up about xyz nonprofit executive making “too much money”, but if I show them a program that spends 100% of its revenues on ‘program’, say, having a volunteer hand out $100 bills to homeless people, I can guarantee you that they wouldn’t be too excited.)

But, it’s almost graduation time, so let’s talk about what’s really on the minds of macro practice soon-to-be social workers everywhere: getting a job that will pay you a decent (read: pay your loans and still earn a real, living wage) salary.

According to the most recent Bureau of Labor Statistics data, the median hourly wage for social service managers, the closest category to social work administration, was $26.92/hour. Assuming full-time work (which, certainly, cannot be assumed in today’s economy, but most management positions are full-time), you’re looking at about $54,000/year. Doesn’t sound that bad, probably, except when you consider that that’s a national figure, which is distorted by the much higher costs of living in some parts of the country (and correspondingly higher wages) and when you look at the BLS numbers for chief executives, who earn a median $76.23/hour, about three times as much, to do very similar kinds of work: manage budgets, oversee personnel, interface with external stakeholders, plan for the future, deal with threats, and solve problems.

Enter this whole discussion about overhead and how we should define and monitor a “good” nonprofit organization. The way that I see it, as long as low overhead equals good organization, then there are very powerful incentives for nonprofit leaders, including other social work administrators, to keep administrative salaries low, even dangerously low, to the extent that it can be difficult to recruit and retain the best and brightest minds.

If, conversely, we start defining a good nonprofit organization as one that excels at its mission, that succeeds in addressing the problem that is its target, that innovates, that surpasses expectations…then won’t there be just as powerful an incentive to find the very best person possible to lead that organization, even if it costs more to hire her?

It’s crazy, really, when you think about it. If a society’s values are lived out in its allocation of resources (which they largely are), then it would appear that we value the creation of new items for Taco Bell’s value menu more than the eradication of homelessness. Or the cure for AIDS. Or the end of child abuse.

You get the idea.

There will obviously be a lag, as the changes in the sector’s barometer slowly infuse themselves into organizational practices. But I truly believe that we’ll see a rise in the demand for top-notch nonprofit organizational leadership in the years to come, and the salaries to go along with it.

Now social work administrators have to make the case that we are uniquely qualified to provide that leadership. That’s another challenge, but one that I can imagine my students and former students will tackle with gusto.

It’s that time of year again…J-O-B

So another terrific class of macro social workers is getting ready to graduate from the University of Kansas (and, I’m certain, many other schools of social work around the country!), and, while the social work job market may not be quite as tight has it was for the class of 2009, it’s still a rough field out there. At this time of year, my thoughts turn to job searching in macro practice and how to help graduating students and other social workers who are looking for macro practice jobs. To get us started, here is a list of links of online job sources (all in nonprofit/social change work), a couple of articles about job searching in a recession, and a presentation on using purposeful internships to set yourself apart from other candidates (it’s good; sorry for the random punctuation around it–I spent 30 minutes trying to cut it out and moved on!).

Keep me posted on your job search process, and please, once you’re successful finding a great job that allows you to advance your life while serving your cause, share your tips!

Opportunity Knocks
Opportunity Knocks has listings of nonprofit jobs, a Nonprofit Wage and Benefit Report, a place to post your resume, tons of helpful articles, and a list of job fairs around the country.

Idealist.Org
Idealist has nonprofit job listings and hosts career fairs in a number of cities. Sign up for email alerts for nonprofit jobs in your area.

Jobs For Change
This is the one that I wrote up last year. They also have columns and advice for job seekers.

Nonprofit-Jobs
Mostly administrative-type jobs in the nonprofit, health care, and government sectors.

Philanthropy Careers
These are pretty fundraising-heavy listings, but there are some administrative positions, too, and it has high volume.

Council on Foundations
This site has a lot of postings and thorough descriptions.

Philanthropy Journal
This site includes entry-level nonprofit jobs plus those in management/leadership.

The NonProfit Times
This is kind of old-school, basically the classified ads for the nonprofit world’s newspaper. They also operate a career advice center.

DotOrgJobs
This is unofficially for the Gen-X and Gen-Yers–part of OnPhilanthropy. I subscribe to their FLiP blog for insights on nonprofit leadership for young adults.

Don’t forget Craigslist. More nonprofits are putting openings there because it’s a free listing.

More Resources:
Nonprofit Job Searching in Tough Times

Nonprofit Job Search Tips

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Nonprofit Leadership: The Next Frontier

photo credit: ButterflySun via Flickr

I’ve had this report, Ready to Lead, on my desktop for a few months, but I just got around to reading it. If you share my concerns about the future of our nonprofit sector, are headed to executive leadership in a nonprofit organization yourself, and/or have questions about the leadership in your area of practice, you should read the whole report (it includes a thorough overview of the sample and methodology, so I’m not reiterating that either). Here, I’m highlighting some of the findings that have the most relevance for social workers, and for the organizations in which we work. In particular, although the authors of the report didn’t include this at all, there are some public policy approaches (big surprise!) that I think could help to address some of the challenges and gaps indicated by respondents.

I’d love to know what you think, not just about this report but about the state of leadership in your nonprofit. If you are a young professional, what do you see as your career trajectory? What influences your professional decisionmaking about organizations and positions within them? What skills and experiences must good nonprofit leaders possess? If you want to lead a nonprofit organization, do you feel ‘ready’ to do so? If not, what help do you need? What would help your current leadership to succeed?

Most provocative findings, and my thoughts:

  • By 2016, the nonprofit sector will need ~80,000 new managers per year! They have to come from somewhere, and, as we think about the future of social work and social work education, we have to figure out if we’re committed to ‘growing’ these leaders ourselves, and to really carving out a niche in nonprofit leadership, or if we’re going to see those positions go increasingly to individuals from the corporate world and/or from planning or nonprofit administration programs. It matters, I believe, what value perspective the leaders of our organizations share, but we have to acknowledge the fact that the vast majority of social workers choose a more direct practice/clinical track, and that that may mean that social workers increasingly find themselves working for non-social workers.
  • These worker preferences, in fact, continue to influence career decision making well into an individual’s advancement. Fifty-five percent of the sample (most of whom are already working in nonprofits) say that their interests or skills don’t align with executive leadership in nonprofits. Fear of distancing themselves from the work and/or reducing their job satisfaction were some of the primary concerns.
  • There’s not as much ‘hiring from within’ as in the for-profit sector–only ~1/3 of current executive directors were hired from their own organization, and 55% of survey respondents believe that they need to leave their current organizations in order to advance.
  • Not surprisingly, these experiences are different for women and people of color than for white men. While more people of color and foreign-born nonprofit workers aspire to executive leadership, white men in the sample were more likely to be on a leadership track, more likely to have received executive coaching, and more likely to say that they are currently ‘ready’ to lead. Obviously, this has major implications for social work education, which also tends to attract a majority white student body. If we’re going to truly reflect our society, and best equip our organizations with talented, skilled, prepared individuals with a desire to lead our organizations into the future, we have to aggressively recruit, actively mentor, and intentionally place more bright leaders of color.
  • Only 17% of respondents have a degree or certificate in nonprofit management or administration. Importantly, of those who do, relatively few feel that it, specifically, has prepared them for nonprofit leadership. Again, as we think about the future of our profession, we need to continually evaluate the skills and competencies that we transmit through our degree programs, communicating with nonprofit organizations about those skills they most need.
  • We need to confront the financial realities; many of our most talented nonprofit employees may leave nonprofits, especially as the economy improves, so that they can earn more money. One of the recommendations was that foundations invest in multiyear funding and institutional capital to allow for more adequate compensation packages and to facilitate succession planning. But here’s where public policy can come into play, too. Several respondents mentioned student loan debt as a major concern–obviously, more state and federal aid directly to higher education, as well as more generous financial aid packages, could reverse the tide of rising student debt and free graduates to make career decisions without worrying about default. Likewise, young nonprofit workers are particularly concerned about retirement savings; ensuring Social Security’s long-term solvency as well as adequacy, and restoring a measure of progressivity to pension/retirement systems could take some of this pressure off young workers during their careers.
  • And we can’t ignore the role that nonprofit organizational culture itself plays in creating and perpetuating this problem. Several respondents mentioned the ‘dated power structures’ that inhibit mentoring; the poor work/life balance; and the increasing demands on executive directors to do more with less as disincentives to their own pursuit of executive leadership. Addressing these factors as part of organizational advocacy strategies could make work life better for all those in nonprofits, improve agency functioning for clients, and, in the long-run, make these institutions easier to run, thus attracting more candidates for the job!
  • Social workers and social movements

    Now THAT’S a movement!

    We have known for a while that launching a campaign wasn’t enough – its a good way to raise awareness and attention for an issue, but when the campaign ends, the momentum fades. Movements are designed to go further, do more to sustain people’s interest and participation, and of course drive greater impact.

    Movements change lives, not just laws.

    But in the vernacular of organizing, especially online, I’m increasingly concerned that the word ‘movement’ has simply replaced the word ‘campaign.’ Everybody wants to start a movement, and understand how to use technology, and social media, to make that happen. But few are willing to embrace the huge commitments necessary to create and sustain a movement. The term is being co-opted, the level of excitement and commitment towards creating movements is growing, but we are still running in place in terms of truly shifting how causes are addressed.

    We’re in danger of forgetting that calling something a “movement” doesn’t make it so, and that movements are not measured by the number of Twitter followers you have.

    In doing research on the whole idea of social movements in the digital age, I came across some really good resources that say a lot of what I was thinking (LOVE when that happens!)–about the need to connect offline and online interactions, so that relationships are real; the potential of new media to reduce the costs associated with bringing people together; the importance of empowering people to find their own place within a movement (rather than expecting everyone to “click here”); the flexibility to go not only from local to global, as social movements have traditionally evolved, but also from global to local, as people find ways to connect with known others around an issue first presented to them by unknowns–in essence, about the power of social media as a tool for social movement building, rather than as an inevitable movement in itself.

    So, since I’ve got Duplo towers to build and dozens of stories about big trucks to read, I want to share some of the great resources about social movements and movement building 2.0 and instead focus my comments on wondering:

    “What’s up with social workers and social movements, anyhow?”

    If you think about it, it’s kind of odd. Here we are, this pretty big profession with hundreds of thousands of super-passionate, well-informed, dedicated people working on the kinds of core social justice issues around which movements are born. And yet, throughout history, social workers have, for the most part, played rather peripheral roles in the major social movements that have defined our times. Most scholars of social work history believe that, in fact, social work activism during ‘peak’ periods (the 1930s and 1960s, in particular) is inflated, and social work retrenchment during the 1980s, for example, is overstated as well. For the most part, social workers have been impacted by social movements far more than they have driven them.

    Why is this? And what does it say about our profession? And its role in movement building?

    I think that, in essence, the issue is the definition of social movements. I looked up a lot of different definitions, and they all look something like this: “Social movements are a type of group action. They are large informal groupings of individuals and/or organizations focused on specific political or social issues, in other words, on carrying out, resisting or undoing a social change” (wikipedia.org). Large. Informal. Group action. NOT the kind of thing typically led by professionals who are, in most instances, arms of the same ‘system’ against which the movement is, in some way, arrayed. So, while perhaps disappointing to the most idealistic and radical among us (who? where?), it’s not surprising that there is little role for our profession, with its dual emphases on social control and social assistance, in movements that seek to fundamentally realign the distribution of power in our society.

    But what about social workers as people? As in, not in our professional capacity but as individuals who, after all, went into this profession because we really, really care about people and really, really hate injustice–what role for us within social movements?

    Certainly, here, it’s much harder to get a good sense of what history looks like; we have no way of knowing, definitely, how many social workers, in their personal capacity, were engaged, for example, in the struggle for civil rights, the women’s movement, and the peace movement. Probably many.

    But I do think that there are some serious ways in which our profession discourages this full expression of social workers’ politics and, in so doing, deprives social movements of some of their potentially most valuable ‘foot soldiers’ while simultaneously denying social workers their right to full pursuit of human liberation. These are the points I want us to collectively consider:

  • Excessive workloads and social worker burnout fry people at work, use up their creativity and compassion, and push them to retreat in their personal lives.
  • The overly cautious divorce of politics from nonprofit organizational life sends social workers the message that they must sever their political from their professional selves. We know that this is damaging for both ‘halves’ of the social worker.
  • The emphasis, within social work education, on professionalization and skill development at the expense of political consciousness takes students away from activism at precisely the time of their lives when they may have the greatest exposure and opportunity for participation (which could plant the seeds for later involvement).
  • The segregation within nonprofit organizations, with underrepresentation, particularly of people of color, is echoed in residential segregation, combining to deprive many social workers of access to diverse peers with whom to build strong movements for change. When we only interact with people of different races, socioeconomic statuses, and sexual orientations in a client:worker relationship, we’re not only living stunted lives but are also locked out of opportunities for solidarity.
  • Declining unionization of social workers and a move away from collective bargaining and toward ‘professionalization’ (in quotes because it’s a false dichotomy between unionization and professionalization!) deprive social workers of our society’s best practice grounds for unified action and democratic movement building: the labor movement. Many movement leaders got their start within labor, and organized labor continues to be at the forefront of movements for justice for workers, immigrants, women, and people of color. Social work just doesn’t participate much.

    So what do you think? Have you been part of a social movement? Do you see yourself as part of a movement now? Does your social work identity reinforce your movement participation? Or is your consciousness within the movement separated from your professional orientation? What could social work do to be a part of movement building? Should we take this on as a profession? And what will movement building look like in this new decade?

    Materials:
    Beth’s Blog on Bridging Old and New Models

    And Beth’s Blog on Cause Fatigue and Movement Building”

    Finally, Beth’s Blog on Movement Building Resources

  • Women in Social Work who Have Changed the World

    One of my winter break reads (yes, the reviews are still trickling out, folks…) was the most recent book edited by my undergraduate advisor and very good friend (and blog reader!) Alice Lieberman. You should pick it up; I read it in just a few hours, as it’s really a collection of interviews with phenomenal women social workers around the world who have done (and are doing) amazing work.

    Because it’s such an easy read, and because I know that you’re all looking for some more good books to add to your reading lists, at my suggestion, I’m just going to relate to the stories, in aggregate, in a couple of very personal ways. Besides, really, choosing just one of two to include here would be too difficult. Um, an ambassador? U.S. Senator? Iranian social worker who faced down a firing squad? One of the 100 most influential Hispanics in the country? And two nuns? You know how I feel about nuns…

    On only about the third page of the book, still in the introduction, I had one of those lightbulb moments. I was really not aware, at all, of the literature about the powerful role that fathers, in particular, play in their daughters’ social and emotional development. That particular influence runs through many of the stories in the book, and it really hit a chord with me. In many of these cases, it’s obvious why supportive fathers are so important: in much of the developing world, without strong advocacy from the father, girls have very little access to education.

    But that wasn’t the case for me, certainly, and yet I can think of no single greater influence in my decision to use my life to serve others, than my father. I thought of him a lot throughout the whole book. In an interview from Pakistan, an advocate speaks of seeing her mother berate a group of men who had just kicked a widow out of her house, and I thought of my Dad forcing a car off the road so that he could get out and drive the drunk (and unknown to us) man home. My favorite story in the book is in the chapter on Sister Jean Abbott, with whom I had the great honor to work some while I was in St. Louis. She speaks of her sister getting so excited when a man asked for a drink of water, because she thought this was her big chance to do what her father wanted: give someone more than what he/she had asked for. The man was quite taken aback with the huge breakfast her sister offered. It reminded me of my favorite story of my sister who, when asked to draw a picture of Jesus in Sunday School, drew him with a bald head and glasses. I don’t have to tell you what my Dad looks like.

    The other very personal thing for me in this book was the realization that very few of the women profiled have children and partners, and some of those who do are either estranged from their families or acknowledge that they missed much of their children’s lives. I love my kids fiercely, and I gain tremendous joy from mothering them every day. Yet I am also very conscious of the opportunity cost of this intensive parenting–the more that I give to my kids, the less I have to give to others. I’m certainly not saying that I would have become an ambassador or an Ashoka fellow or anything, had I not chosen parenting, but I do wonder about that other path, sometimes. Having decided to have kids, I have very strong feelings about the role that I want to play in their lives, and yet I know what I’m not doing, then, as a result. And, of course, it made me think about how you’d likely never see those stories in a book about outstanding men and their contributions, and about how moms are the ones expected to straddle both worlds.

    And it was also moving for me to see how many of the women spoke of Eleanor Roosevelt as an inspiration for their work. My daughter is named after her and has a framed picture of the former First Lady on her dresser. It is my sincere hope that my daughter grows up with some of the same compassion and wisdom and moral courage evidenced by her namesake and, apparently, many of those who seek to emulate her.

    Less personal, but still powerful, was the very obvious interweaving of clinical and social change orientations in virtually all of the profiles in the book. I feel very strongly that bridging across this false divide is essential for the future of our profession and, I believe, key to our likelihood of success in grappling with the world’s problems, too. As woman after woman stated, it is when we bring our excellent people skills together with a macro-systems perspective and an unflinching commitment to social justice that we become truly powerful forces for change. Nearly all of the women took a more macro approach in school, and certainly in their practice, but they value their clinical experience and clinical tools, as well.

    And, finally, my favorite quotes, which honestly reminded me of several of you!
    “a dislike for injustice was one of her principal traits” (p. 113)
    “it is difficult to say whether (she) chose social work or social work chose her” (p. 41)
    And, in a quote of St. Francis of Assisi, “preach and, if necessary, use words” (p. 125)

    What women in social work particularly inspire you? Or do you have your own story to tell about a parent’s influence, or the cost of family responsibilities, or being a woman in this “female” profession?

    Saying “I told you so”–the power of social indicators

    I love it when I find the perfect example to use for class. It’s as though the world is guest lecturing, or something. Wonderful.

    One of the assignments that I use for the Advanced Policies and Programs course relates to social indicators–basically, how we know what it is that we think we know about the social problems that face us. For example, we don’t know what real unemployment looks like, we only know our unemployment rate, which uses a particular definition of unemployment (which specifically excludes those people who are so discouraged that they’ve given up looking for a job), and which inevitably misses some people who might, from their own perspective, view themselves as ‘unemployed’.

    The assignment asks students to analyze a social problem and its indicator, discussing how the indicator might be improved, the particular perspective it articulates, and what the indicator says about how we, collectively, view that social problem. Students are unanimous that it’s a tough assignment, because they have to dissect social problems in a way that they never have before, but it’s also uniquely useful in making them more sophisticated analysts, better able to critique our way of ‘knowing’.

    And one of the points that I make frequently is that the mere fact that we collect social indicators on some social problems and not really on others says volumes about what we really prioritize, and that a way to begin to shift those priorities can be, sometimes, just changing the kinds of questions that we ask and the kinds of data we collect. After all, we can’t paint those very compelling pictures of injustice if we don’t know exactly what that injustice looks like (or, at least, we can’t do it well).

    A section in Half the Sky (go on, get it now, I’ll wait) speaks to this. In 2000, Congress started to require the State Department to put out an annual Trafficking in Persons Report (TIP). It ranks countries according to how they combat trafficking, and it includes sanctions for those in the lowest tier.

    This is where, often, social justice advocates would start to roll their eyes–the whole “Rome burns and we issue a report” thing.

    But wait. The power of social indicators.

    What happened once Congress started to require this report is that American diplomats had to collect the data, so they started to talk with ministry counterparts in the countries where they were working, putting pressure on them to collect the data, prioritizing trafficking then, similarly to anti-terrorism, weapons proliferation, and drug trafficking concerns. The foreign ministries had to find the data that the Americans were demanding, or else risk their approbation. And, of course, those sanction threats didn’t hurt either.

    Whether from wanting to avoid falling into that lower tier, currying favor with Americans (perhaps to make up for other areas where they were falling short of diplomats’ expectations), or legitimately outraged at what they were discovering in their countries as a result of their inquiries, countries began to act. They passed laws, conducted law enforcement raids, and initiated their own investigations. As the authors discuss and I found in my own research into this effort subsequently, the TIP has even more potential for impact. As is perhaps not surprising, the human trafficking office is marginalized within the Department of State (they report that it’s not even in the same building!). The issuance of the report is perfunctory, when we need press conferences and Presidential response. And, while the lowest tier countries are sanctioned, there are no incentives for those excelling.

    Still, there are indications that, in the wake of TIP, the cost of doing business went up for brothels, eroding their profits and encouraging some traffickers to find another line of work. And the ripple effects from formally denouncing trafficking and exploitation of women are significant, too.

    Indicators matter. We collect and talk about and disseminate that about which we care. And as we, as social workers, improve our ability to use and interpret and manipulate social indicators to not only reflect social problems but actually move the needle, we’ll get closer to the world as it should be.

    The tragedies of unintended consequences

    I think (no promises, though!) that this will be my last post related to my thoughts on Half the Sky. And it’s really only tangentially related to the book, but it has stuck with me for the past couple of weeks.

    Early in the book (p. 17), the authors tell the story of Senator Tom Harkin’s effort in the early 1990s to do something about child sweatshop labor in Bangladesh. Alarmed by what he had learned about the plight of girl laborers there, he introduced legislation that would have banned imports made by workers under age 14. The legislation didn’t even advance, but, in reaction to its introduction, the factories that employed young workers (many of them girls) fired tens of thousands of them. Advocates on the ground believe that many of them ended up in brothels, with many of those now dead of AIDS.

    Then, in The Blue Sweater, there’s another unintended consequences story that’s equally dramatic. In Rwanda, the parliament tried to address the practice of ‘bride price’, which essentially reduced women to property, as their husbands viewed that their wives had a responsibility to ‘work off’ the price that had been paid for them. Afraid of the political consequences of eliminating the practice altogether, women’s rights advocates in Parliament succeeded in reducing the bride price to something merely symbolic. As they celebrated, though, rural women were outraged; now, they felt that their “value” had been degraded overnight.

    My mind keeps returning to these stories in part because I know Senator Harkin a little bit. He has a terrific legislative record in standing up for communities at risk and advancing social justice, and he has been a real ally for social work causes in Congress. He did what we wish all members of Congress would do, right? He found out about an injustice and he tried to use his power and influence to do something about it. If everyone used his/her authority with a similar sense of global responsibility, our world would look much different. And the measure in Rwanda was led primarily by forward-thinking WOMEN members of Parliament, who were bucking their own male-dominated society to try to address policy matters of concern to women in the first place.

    BUT.

    But we can’t deny the reality of the impact that this particular legislation had, nor, unfortunately, its rather predictable nature. The more I’m learning, the more that it seems obvious to grassroots workers (including former sex slaves and other survivors) that, without other, viable economic alternatives, forced sexual slavery would be the likely avenue to which those pushed out of sweatshop labor would be pushed. To them, it was tragically foreseeable; to a U.S. Senator understandably outraged by 9-year-olds producing goods for U.S. consumption, it was a devastating lesson in the limits of economic sanctions. And, given that the Rwandan measure did not address the underlying inequities facing rural women at all, it’s pretty understandable that, if they’re going to be purchased, they’d rather that it be for a high price than a low one.

    But this post isn’t about Senator Harkin. Or about Rwanda. Not really. And it’s not even about sweatshop labor, or the strategy of selective boycotts (only advised when called for by folks on the ground, by the way), or about sexual slavery or traditional practices that insitutionalize injustice for women.

    It’s about process.

    About how we make social policy, and about how to avoid these kinds of unintended consequences, not by collecting better data or designing better oversight, but by bringing policymaking closer to those who are impacted by it, where the consequences about which we’re concerned are not so surprising after all.

    There will always be unknowns, especially in social policy, where we’re dealing with the variables of human behavior and the permutations of future contexts. But I believe that we can minimize the number of truly tragic unintended consequences by finding ways to integrate the lived experiences of those affected by the social problem into the decision-making arena. That doesn’t mean ‘policymaking by anecdote’. It means changing how people get elected, so that we have more actual representation by those directly affected by the problems they’re addressing. And it means grassroots organizing and lobbying to build relationships that can serve as reality checks and accountability measures for those in power. And it means a different approach to social problems in the first place, that understands their complexity and addresses them at the root (in this case, poverty and gender inequality) rather than in one of their many manifestations.

    That’s tougher policymaking, for sure. It takes longer, and it’s ‘messier’, and it doesn’t sound as good on a press release. But it’s not only more likely to get us where we want to go, which we certainly need in this context of scarce resources and abundant need; it’s also less likely to take us to where we never even knew to fear we might end up.

    Calling All Radical Social Work Readers!

    photo credit Mosman Library, via Flickr

    This is an idea that has been sitting in my brain for awhile now, and I’m finally at the point in my family life where I think I can make it happen:

    I want to have a radical social work book club.

    Here is my idea about how it would work but, of course, it’s a dynamic deal, and so I’m very open to others’ ideas:

    A group of social workers (I’d like to limit it to social workers, at least at first, because I think that our common value base shapes not only our grappling with issues of structural change but also the challenges we encounter living and working in the status quo, but I’d be willing to open it to those working in social service/social change from a radical orientation, if others are amenable to it) get together monthly to discuss a book that we’ve read together and how it applies to a) our social work practice, b) our consciousnesses as radical practitioners, c) our challenges in being radicals within a social service system. I’m willing to choose the first couple of books and facilitate a few of the discussions, but then I’d really like to see others’ contributions so that it’s a very non-hierarchical format that breeds great dialogue, mutual support, and new commitment to excellent radical social work.

    It will be an opportunity for those in the field to receive support from each other and from some of us who have the luxury of spending quite a bit of time just thinking about this stuff, and the connections between it all, but organized around consciousness-raising for those non-clinical social worker among us (um, me) who do better that way than with a ‘traditional’ mutual support format. What do you think? I’d love to start with at least 4-5 people, but I’m open to a much larger group, if there’s that much interest. We may need to alternate meetings between Lawrence and the Kansas City area, given the residences of some of those I know who consider themselves radical social workers. We can figure out all of those details together, as we’re deciding together how we’re going to change the world (only partially exaggerating there)!

    Here are some of the books that I’ve been reading that I think might lend themselves to discussions, but I am totally open to different ideas here (I’m sure that I’ll have a longer list by the time we finally get together!). Many of these are not themselves written from a radical perspective; one of the things that I find the most routinely challenging is asserting my radical analysis within a world that doesn’t see social problems that way, so that’s one of the things I’d like to talk about. Maybe check some of these out, see what you think, and send me other suggestions, along with a note about your willingness to participate? You can just leave a note in the comments, or you can email me your contact information directly. Or call me, or find me on Facebook! Yay! I’m so excited!

  • Shock Doctrine, Naomi Klein
  • There Goes the Neighborhood, William J. Wilson
  • Illegal People, David Bacon
  • Poverty, Welfare, and the Disciplinary State Jones, C. and Novak, T.
  • The Social Work Business (haven’t read this one yet) John Harris
  • Regulating the Lives of Women. Abramovitz, M.
  • The Careless Society: Community and Its Counterfeits. (haven’t read this one either) McKnight, J.
  • The Road Not Taken: A History of Radical Social Work in the United States. Reisch, M. & Andrews, J.
  • A People’s History of the United States. Howard Zinn (we could choose just a few chapters, maybe that some people haven’t read, but the whole thing is awesome)
  • Shame of a Nation, Jonathan Kozol
  • Working, Studs Terkel (all of his stuff is awesome, really)
  • Where we stand: class matters, bell hooks
  • Tell Them Who I Am: The Lives of Homeless Women, Liebow, E.
  • I guess this means I need a new phone?

    I have smart phone envy, I’ll admit. My husband has an iPhone that I openly covet, trying to come up with excuses for why I need to borrow it. And my best friend just got one; when she sends me emails from it, I usually respond with “you suck” (and then an actual response–she is still my best friend).

    What appeals to me so much about these smart phones is the idea that you really can do whatever you need to do with your computer, but from wherever you are, whatever else you’re doing. Yes, I know that there’s a danger of “iPhone orphans”, and I’ve heard the ‘crackberry’ jokes, too, but, seriously, is the idea of always thinking about your work, no matter what else you’re doing, really anything new for social workers?

    What doesn’t appeal to me about these phones is the pretty steep cost for the monthly service agreements; an unrestricted data plan like my husband has, combined with relatively basic mobile service, costs more than $70/month (his company pays for it; I’d have to pay for it myself, hence–no iPhone for me).

    So, when I saw this awesome (as usual) Heather Mansfield post about mobile technology and nonprofit organizations, it jumpstarted my smart phone envy again, but it also made me think about what this move to mobile technology will mean for social workers and social welfare agencies.

    I don’t have the answers (I mean, I don’t even have the phone!), but here are my questions:

  • How will social service nonprofits make allocation decisions about who gets access to mobile technologies like these, in an era of perennially-scarce resources? Will we see the CEOs sporting iPhones and the case workers not? Will we rotate these kinds of devices among staff members, in an ‘on-call’ type of system? Or will organizations make an investment in mobile technology as the next wave of ‘must have’ for everyone (the way that a computer essentially is now)? In which case, I’ll have to go back to work full-time to get one (smile).
  • What will this mean for confidentiality? And for boundaries? And for social workers’ work loads? And for worker productivity? There is so much new territory here: workers using their smart phones for non-work uses (with an unlimited plan, not really a problem, except when you account for time); others potentially seeing emails, texts, or other communications from/about clients; workers feeling that they can’t ‘escape’ work at all, given their ubiquitious ‘availability; clients’ expectations of social workers’ availability…really, these are just escalations of the same kinds of questions we’ve been asking for a few years now, albeit with a mobile spin.
  • And, finally, since more and more of our clients have these smart phones now, what does this potentially mean for using mobile technology to connect with clients, and even to provide social services? We’re already seeing some grassroots advocacy organizations do a lot with texting (the type of communication that traditionally yields the very quickest response)–what about social workers who are reminding clients of an appointment, following up on something from a previous interaction, or requesting information? How can we use these technologies to work better with our clients, while not depending on them to the extent that we harm other aspects of our relationship?

    Is your organization fully mobile? Or on its way? How has it changed your work? For the better? Or not? And do you have an extra iPhone laying around that you just want to give me (joke)?