Tag Archives: social workers

Macro Social Work and Maximum Career Success in 2012

My students and I just finished our fall semester. For them, that means a few weeks without practicum or policy studies. I’m sure they’ll be glad to get online without seeing frequent posts from me about new policy developments or insightful new articles that I’m just SURE they’ll love (can you ever listen to too many Robert Greenstein podcasts? I think not.).

For me, the break between semesters means decorating Christmas cookies with the kids, trying to come up with gifts for the dozens of people who help us raise them throughout the year, and catching up on the stack of reading that has grown on my nightstand throughout the fall.

But I’ve also had several conversations with students in the past couple of weeks about their futures, and what the next year may hold, especially given that my Advanced Policy students will receive their MSWs in the spring, in a job market that honestly doesn’t look much better, at least in some sectors, than it has for the past three years or so (which is to say, not too good). Increasingly, my students are getting started early in researching organizations that might provide some career opportunities for them, which just might mean that they’re taking my career advice about seeking a good fit between you and the organizational culture, rather than searching for the perfect job description.

But I’ve been doing some investigation into other resources for young nonprofit professionals, most of which are good fits for social workers, too, especially those who see nonprofit administration as a promising career path. These macro social workers will need to understand how organizations work, and how they should work, what the context of social service delivery will look like, and how to chart a career progression for themselves that will position them for long-term success in an often volatile market.

In this thinking, I’ve benefitted greatly from the wisdom of former students, especially from the recent past, whose own job experiences provide inspiration and comfort to today’s graduates. I’d love to hear from more of my own former students as well as other new social work professionals, regarding these resources, others that you’d recommend, or the advice that you wish someone had shared with you at the inception of your macro social work career. I’m particularly interested in how to help students bridge the direct practice jobs that are somewhat more plentiful to the macro work they seek. It requires finding opportunities to build skills and relationships in one service context that you can leverage in another, and demonstrating leadership in direct service that can lead to opportunities to lead on a larger scale. I don’t mean the assumed “work your way up to management” role, but, rather, intentionally complementing one’s macro social work education with strategic direct practice experiences, in pursuit of an overall portfolio designed to deliver a chance to shape our field.

  • I’ve shared Rosetta Thurman’s blog on my blog roll before; I find her writing topics and style thought-provoking, refreshing, and genuinely additive to the conversation about young people in the nonprofit world. There’s a lot here to prompt all of our thinking (regardless of age) about the future of nonprofits and how to build impactful organizations by investing in people, but, especially for newer professionals, there’s also tangible advice about how to network, which conferences are worth your time and money, and how to build your personal brand. You should also check out her book, How to Become a Nonprofit Rockstar. Sometimes we think that someone has to be speaking directly to social workers to have anything to say to us, but I never fail to find something in Rosetta’s thinking that resonates with me.
  • Another blogger with relevant advice for new nonprofit workers is Alison Jones, who blogs at Entry-Level Living. She comments on the state of the nonprofit world, too, but also has advice about how to jumpstart your nonprofit career with formal service programs, how to integrate into nonprofit culture as a new employee, and how to tell the story of your college education in order to win a nonprofit job. Especially in this job market, it’s also critically important not to feel alone, and the community that arises on these two sites can complement the “real-world” support network that job-seekers so need.
  • Some new online forums, mostly completely self-moderated, have popped up for those seeking social work jobs. While there may not be too many actionable tips for social work graduates looking for a specific setting or geography on these pretty broad sites, there is an opportunity for solidarity and a chance to gain a sort of high-level overview of the landscape of the social work job market. One is the Social Worker Jobs Forum and another is the Social Work Job Bank (this last one is affiliated with The New Social Worker Online, and does have a stronger community moderation component).

    Here’s to a very bright new year, indeed, for social work graduates.

  • A Diary of a Social Worker in the Political Arena

    **Note from Melinda: I asked Becky Fast, whom I have known since my undergraduate days (when she was my boss!) to write a reflection about her decades as a professional social worker immersed in the political realm, always with a laser focus on upholding the mission of our profession and advancing our collective values. I am honored that she agreed to do so and thrilled to share this inspiring post with you. Becky has graciously agreed to share her email address, too, for those interested in pursuing this path–I can say from personal experience that she is an excellent mentor! blfast at msn.com

    My venture into politics began advocating for the rights of my brother with Downs Syndrome to access regular education. At a young age, I observed first-hand how public laws and regulations excluded full participation of women, minorities, and persons with disabilities.

    I was attracted to the profession of social work because of my desire to be a social activist. I had a desire to change the world in such a way that others wouldn’t have the childhood experiences that I had. I was attracted to the mission of the profession to uplift people and to improve the quality of their lives.

    Social work when practiced at its best is about social change and social justice. Yet – I was greeted with mixed reactions from my social work colleagues when I decided to detour for 12 years from direct practice to a career in political social work as an aide to a U.S. Congressman. I found it perplexing to encounter a long-standing and pervasive belief that social workers are to be apolitical in their approach to professional practice. I found social workers embracing public service, volunteerism, and community organizing but they were conflicted about direct involvement in politics.

    The Institute for the Advancement of Political Social Work Practice at the University of Connecticut-School of Social Work under the leadership of Dr. Nancy A. Humphreys helped me to see that I wasn’t abandoning my profession by working as a political social worker. I began to see that everything I learned through my MSW education and field practice experience is what exactly a politician needs to be successful. Over the years, I found my professional knowledge critical to candidates for office and elected officials as they formulate social policy decisions.

    In my role as the Director of Casework for a U.S. Congressman, I handled individual and community problems with federal policies and programs including Medicare, Social Security and Veterans Benefits. When individuals or groups would have similar problems, it was my responsibility to report to the Congressman and assess if a change in federal legislation was needed.

    Our daily lives as social workers are often based on actions taken in the political arena. My current job as a hospice social worker is dependent in a large part upon helping families access the Medicare hospice benefit. Our nation’s support for housing, health care, childcare, and education for the disadvantage and vulnerable are all made by politicians and government officials. As programs and services are slashed and cut from the statehouse to the white house, social workers involved in politics are needed now more than ever as our clients lose their jobs, housing, and health insurance from financial insecurity. Many of our clients with the least amount of resources carry the heaviest social and economic burdens.

    Politicians change policy that either will help or hurt our profession and our clients. Social workers working on the “inside” as elected officials, lobbyists, campaign workers, staff and as a part of coalitions are needed to insure political empowerment of the populations we serve.

    Empowering ourselves and our clients by becoming more active in political processes is a core tenet of social work and what political social work practice is all about. More politically empowered social service professionals and clients will improve the public policy decision-making and the services provided.

    Being involved in politics doesn’t have to be a career it can also be as simple as writing an email or making a phone call to an elected official about a proposed budget cut. If you are considering getting involved in political advocacy please join me because only together can we effectively fight against poverty, racism, and injustice.

    Guest Post: Why I ran

    **Note from Melinda: This guest post is from Shana Althouse, a tremendous former student of mine who is also a neighbor, and for whom I campaigned in advance of the Fall 2010 elections. Although she wasn’t elected to the Kansas House in that cycle, I know that Shana will continue to influence policy and our community, and I am honored to have her share her thoughts here about running for elected office as a social worker.

    “Don’t Stop Believing” – Journey
    You might think that a person who ran for the Kansas state legislature would have quoted Kathleen Sebelius (former Kansas Governor, now Secretary of DHHS) or Dennis Moore (retired Congressman from Kansas’ third district) for political inspiration. While I do admire them both, it was Journey’s song, “Don’t Stop Believing” that ran through my head last summer when it was 100 degrees and I was walking door to door to meet the voters in my district. Yes, I had a theme song, and it carried me to Election Day. Why did I have a theme song? The reality is, running for public office requires you to find a way to keep going, and a reminder of why you are running. For me, my motivation was that I sincerely believed I could make a difference. If not now, when?

    When I first contemplated running, I had just heard my state representative talk about how the demographics in our district were changing. I live in a Republican county, but Democrats had been picking up seats all around my district and voting trends were leaning Democratic. I thought, “really, hmmm.”
    In the summer of 2007 I hosted a healthcare round table at my house. One of the attendees had run for State Representative in our district previously as a Democrat. I mentioned to her that I had an interest in running for public office someday. The next week I received a call from the President of the Johnson County Democrats and we met for coffee. It wasn’t long before the state party was calling and asking if I was going to run. I decided it was time to take this seriously and I needed my husband to be okay with this. I had managed a political campaign in 2008 and I knew my husband had to be totally on board or it was a no go. It was not an easy decision for us. When you run for office, you do not get paid and it is a major time commitment. We have two school-age children with busy social lives. We had a lot to factor into our decision. We finally decided to go for it and, since I would be finishing my Master’s in May, I would forego the job hunt to focus on the campaign.

    My decision to run was strongly influenced by my profession. As a social worker, we advocate for those who often are not able to advocate for themselves—children, working families, the homeless, people with severe and persistent mental illness. Now, more than ever, we need strong leaders who can work on behalf of those who are disenfranchised. We need more public officials, not more politicians.

    The support I received from my colleagues was tremendous. Many social workers donated to my campaign and offered to go door to door with me. The biggest disappointment, though, came from our local KNASW chapter which chose to donate to and endorse my opponent. This was purely a political decision, influenced by other representatives. KNASW could have easily chosen to donate to both candidates, especially considering the fact that one of us was actually a social worker. If our profession is to encourage more social workers to make the commitment to run for office, we have to be willing to support each other actively and enthusiastically.

    I will never regret or doubt my decision to run for public office. I have met many amazing individuals who have tirelessly devoted their lives working for the betterment of our society. I remain engaged through community organizations and may consider running again someday. I know that my presence in the campaign raised critical issues for our district and shaped the tone of the debate. For now, though, I am truly enjoying spending more time with my family and friends!

    Crowdsourcing: your new anti-burnout strategy?

    I don’t deny that there are strains of this all throughout American culture, but social workers and nonprofit folks seem particularly susceptible: the one-up battle of “who is the busiest?”!

    I see it in organizations where people are afraid or embarrassed to leave at 5PM, because they incur the wrath or disdain of their coworkers who take late hours like a badge of honor.

    I see it in my students, who before their careers have even started, are convinced that they are busier than anyone can possibly understand.

    I see it in social work colleagues, who inevitably answer even “how are you?” with something along the lines of “crazy busy, of course!”

    And, of course, I see it in myself, when I complain to my husband about how I’ll be up until midnight again tonight and I can tell he has to bite his tongue not to ask, “um, why?”

    And, so, it was this malady that was on my mind when I read the part in The Networked Nonprofit (thanks, too, for putting it in italics so we overly-busy could notice!): You have too much to do because you do too much.

    I know what you’re thinking: but I HAVE to do all of this.

    But, really, even if it does, indeed, have to get done (and, probably, that’s a question for another day’s post, related to information overload and mission-centered management), do YOU have to be the one to do it?

    And, I think, given my infatuation with crowdsourcing, that the answer is most likely “no”.

    I’m not just talking about getting volunteers to do some of your behind-the-scenes work, although I think that’s worth thinking about (yes, I know that it takes longer initially, but you’re bringing people more fully into your organization and building their capacity to take on work in the future, rather than just spending your weekends folding newsletters).

    I mean crowdsourcing the “real” work, the stuff that right now you can’t imagine anyone but you doing. As in, really tapping into the power of your leaders and your networks so that you really, really don’t do as much anymore.

    I would love to hear from people who have tried turning to their crowds to lighten their own loads (or from those who have found paths to organizational simplicity and work management that weed out the nonessential tasks, too, as I think about how I want to approach that topic). What have you tried? What might you consider? What barriers can you anticipate from your boss(es) as you shift your work? What advantages can you imagine, in terms of your leadership development, as a bonus to the workload reduction? And what factors, other than sheer amount of work, contribute to your burnout, that might be more implacable?

    Obviously, every too-busy social worker will have to decide what makes sense in her/his own context, but here are some ideas that I’ve tried, albeit without thinking of them as “crowdsourcing”. I’ve tried to estimate the number of hours of work saved per tactic, too!

  • Report preparation/editing: I don’t mean just proofreading here, although I almost always do that with a crowd, too. When I wrote El Centro’s big research analysis of our surveys into the lives of Latino immigrants, I would often convene a group of immigrants, service providers, and community leaders, prior to report preparation, to share some of the raw findings and get their take on what was most important, what warranted further study, and how to explain seemingly perplexing results. Hours saved: ~10/year
  • Identifying representatives for coalition meetings: People like to be asked to represent your organization/cause at important meetings and, if you explain how the transfer of power and the preparation of the individual is working, your partners can be comfortable with it, too. Hours saved: At least 10/month
  • Constituent “maintenance”: To keep your network engaged, you need to communicate with them often. But it doesn’t have to be you. In today’s digital age, this might mean finding folks who can take on blogging or Twitter updates, but I used extensive phone trees to activate participants for events, keep people informed about legislative updates, and “listen” to rumors and concerns in the community. Hours saved: More than 40/month

    These are all things that I could have done, in fact, used to do, but things that I recognized I didn’t need to do anymore. They are things that others could, in fact, do just as well, leaving me to do, well, other things that others could have done, too, if only I’d figured out a better way to crowdsource those, too!

  • Of Burnout and Band-Aids

    photo credit, Per Ola Wiberg, via Flickr

    It’s been awhile since I wrote about burnout, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about it.

    I think about burnout whenever I see exhaustion, instead of mere fatigue, on the faces of my students, most of whom haven’t even started their careers yet.

    I think about burnout whenever I reflect on my own work life, and how I’m able to work very long hours, many times, without undue stress, because I get to control the parameters, and choose the issues, and decide the tactics. It’s a daily reminder that burnout isn’t related to actual work effort.

    And yet burnout continues to plague our profession and, especially disturbing to me, to stand as a barrier between social workers and the social activism on which their voices are so needed. We know that, if every social worker lifted his/her voice about the injustices we see every day, things would start to change. And we know that burnout is a part of the reason why we so often don’t.

    So I read with great interest the sections in Soul of a Citizen related to burnout, and I’ve been talking, even more than usual, with my students and colleagues about what burnout looks like in their own lives, more urgently, how we combat it.

    Here are some of my thoughts, collected from these sources and percolating in my brain for the past couple of weeks (or maybe even months!). What I’d love is to hear from you all about burnout–how do you recognize it, how do you resist it, how do we restructure our professions so that we reduce it?

    It’s essential that we dedicate some of our collective wisdom and energy to this struggle, not just because we care about the well-being of individual social workers and the future of our profession, and not just because we know that clients suffer when their workers are burned out.

    We must address burnout because it hinders our activism, as individuals and as a united force for social justice.

    And none of us can afford that silence.

    My most recent thoughts on burnout:

  • Part of the answer may be in finding the nexus between self-interest and selfless social action. I don’t have any empirical evidence of this, but it seems that social workers whose professional interests dovetail somewhat with their own personal passions can withstand the pressures a bit more than those whose lives pull them in two divergent directions, no matter how great their commitment to “the cause”.
  • We’ve got to find a balance between a humility that gives us permission to fail and a smallness of thought that can become futility. The reality is that it may always feel more than a little absurd to think that we might be able to change history, and this perspective can relieve us of the fear of failure that paralyzes action. Whether it’s in direct service or in social change work (which, of course, are not mutually-exclusive categories!), we must celebrate our victories, even though they’re always partial (and later than we’d like!).
  • The aspects of our work that most prompt burnout (the unsolvable problems, the work speedups, the too-large caseloads) can only be changed by social reforms–but, when we spend so much of our lives on our jobs, this paradoxically reduces the time and energy we have to engage in activism which could make those jobs easier and more rewarding, as well as enrich our own souls. This means that paying attention to the power we hold in our own places of work, and actively working to increase the control we hold over the arrangements of that work, isn’t just about our own welfare, or even our ability to serve our clients, but also about how well we can take our place in the struggle for justice.
  • We have to overcome burnout, at least partially, to get to activism, and yet it’s also the experience of joining with other social workers that will help us to combat burnout. Committed activists repeatedly say that they stay not because of the issues but because activism feeds their souls, and all of us can point to some hard-working social workers we know whose souls could use some feeding.
  • Yes, we have to put on band-aids, when people are bleeding around us, but we get tired of trying to staunch the flow, when the cutting hasn’t stopped. As one of the activists in Soul of a Citizen emphasized, “charity must not be allowed to go bail for justice” (p. 207). If we’re to stop the cycle of endless triage, not to mention build the kind of society in which we all long to live, we have to break out of our rather private laments and find a way to compelling collective action.

    Please, share your stories. What burns you out? How can social action combat this? And how do we grieve, together, the many hurts in this world, so that, again together, we can really begin to heal (p. 243)?

  • When do boundaries become excuses?

    This is one of those posts with no real “lesson” to communicate.

    Because it relates to a challenge with which I continue to struggle, pretty much daily.

    Sorry for the disappointment.

    I read Autobiography of an Execution in one stretch, until about 2AM, awhile ago.

    I’m lucky that my husband can sleep with a light on.

    And while the whole book was pretty gripping, there’s one phrase in particular that I haven’t been able to get out of my head.

    The author calls, “there was nothing I could do” the most immoral phrase in history. He makes the further point that, in the realm of capital punishment, “you don’t want your life depending on someone with dinner plans.”

    And that got me.

    Because, while maybe few of us as social workers are frantically filing paperwork to literally keep our clients alive, well, sometimes our work does involve life and death. Or, at least, something just as important, in the lives of the people we serve.

    And, so, does that mean that we’re acting in a morally indefensible way when we put limits on our commitments to our clients, draw boundaries around our work lives, and say, sometimes, that there’s “nothing more we can do”?

    Our Code of Ethics would say no.

    But what do our consciences say?

    What does yours?

    What does mine?

    I once kept my (now) husband waiting to propose for more than an hour because I was on a crisis phone call. And I interrupted my wedding dress fitting and our engagement dinner to take calls from clients. (You’re sensing a pattern here, no doubt; at least he knew what he was getting into!)

    I have an admittedly hard time carving out “me” time.

    And, yet, while I can recognize the unhealthiness, at times, of such focus on our work, I can also think of more than a couple examples, as you likely can too, of social workers (and others) who have used the defense of “professional boundaries” to avoid having to do what they really should have, in order to make a difference.

    And that’s what I think the author was getting at–I mean, even he took time to play catch with his son and have dinner with his wife: how can we protect ourselves against the reality that “there’s always something that needs done?” without abdicating what is our actual (professional) AND moral responsibility?

    When are our boundaries just that–boundaries there to protect ourselves, and our clients, from the destruction that an enmeshed and overworked social worker can wreak–and when are they excuses we hide behind when the messiness of our work intrudes on the rest of our lives?

    The Morning After: what it means for social workers

    This is NOT a conclusive analysis of every race from yesterday’s midterm election. It’s not even a post with links to the commentary flooding the Internet (although, if you’re in Kansas or Missouri, you can find it here.)

    Honestly, after working the polls for 13 hours, I couldn’t stay up late enough to see all of the returns, and I think my brain is still wrapping around some of the results I have seen, anyway.

    But I have seen enough to have some thoughts about what this election means for social workers, though, and I’d love to start a discussion with other politics watchers about what you think this all means, or will mean in the future, to the profession, to the causes we care about, and, most importantly, to those we have the honor to work alongside–our clients.

  • Much has been made of how the “Obama effect” that turned out so many young, ‘disaffected’ voters, including people of color, has “evaporated” in 2010. To that, I guess I’d say…of course it has. We’ve known for a long time that when the focus is on short-term Get Out the Vote, instead of building long-term relationships that help people who have previously been marginalized by society to weave political engagement into the fabric of their daily lives, through connection to organizations and issues that matter to them…that engagement evaporates. Social workers know how to do it better, and we have an obligation to make politics meaningful for those others only remember every two years.
  • People want change. And so do we. We know that framing is more than half the battle, and when it comes to talking about a vision for our country, social workers can tap into a growing desire for a new direction to talk about the problems we see in our communities, the types of strategies that could address them, and what working collectively to implement them would look like. After all, exit polls suggest that this was, more than anything, an election about people’s insecurities, about their fears that this economy won’t deliver the life they envision for their families. And social workers deal with fear and insecurity, and the injustice that creates them, all the time.
  • There is a hostility to government intervention in social problems that, to social workers who have seen what utter abdication of collective responsibility looks like, seems not only unwise but cruel. At the same time, those same polls I referenced above show a convergence of opinion about the greatest challenges facing our nation, some of the very challenges that we know only a powerful, wealthy entity is capable of taking on. What that dichotomy means to me, really, is the dynamic that I’ve seen dozens of times in advocacy and what, for me, is the central story of the past two years: we can mostly agree when it’s time to name problems, but the consensus falls apart when it’s time to choose solutions. I don’t have any words of wisdom to make the prospect of dealing with a Congress decidedly more hostile to social spending than the one we’ve had for the past four years. I wish I did. But I do believe that, if we can center on a discussion about the values that motivate us and the problems that plague us, then maybe we have a chance to take another running shot at this problem-solving exercise we call governance.
  • And, finally, in what is the ultimate glass-half-full assessment by someone who’s decidedly not that Pollyanna-ish, my 13 hours in the polling place reminded me that, really, this is a system that mostly works. I don’t mean that it works on the level of money in politics, which I continue to believe is a huge problem, or even the mechanics of how we do voter registration or how people learn about the issues. But I mean that, really, I think that last night’s results mostly reflect how people are really feeling right now, or at least a majority of the American public, and there’s something reassuring, in my democracy-loving soul, about seeing that reflected, even when I wish I wasn’t, personally, in the minority this time.

    So, social workers, are you spending a day doing self-care? How do you feel about last night’s results? More importantly, how do you feel about tomorrow?

  • Hey! You! It’s Election Day!

    I’ll be working the polls this Election Day (6AM-8PM, for the whopping sum of $120!), so I’m writing this up the week before.

    I had a lot of ideas about what I wanted to write about on Election Day, from a preview of the races most critical to social justice causes to a discussion about voter protection to ideas for addressing the critical shortage of poll workers in much of the country.

    But, then, what I really want to say is:

    via Flickr Creative Commons

    If you had a really great (or really bad) Election Day experience, please leave a comment. I’d also be interested in any predictions about the outcomes, and their impact.

    Happy Election Day!

    Off limits? Social work ethics and negative campaigns

    The author of The Political Brain alleges, in regards to negative campaigns, or those that are primarily based on personal appeals rather than calculated facts:

    “There is no relation between the extent to which an appeal is rational or emotional and the extent to which it is ethical or unethical. Every appeal is ultimately an emotional appeal to voters’ interests–what’s good for them and their families–or their values–what matters to them morally” (p. 14).

    I think this whole question is important, not just at election time, but in terms of the ethics of social work advocacy, too, because, really, the kinds of claims that candidates lodge at each other during campaign season are not often that dissimilar than those lobbied (or, in some cases not) by opposing camps in a policy debate.

    And it’s not a question that’s easily resolved, at least not for social workers, who have to wrestle with this even a little more than others who adhere to an ethic of honesty and integrity, but not necessarily to the strictures of the NASW Code of Ethics.

    But, after spending quite a bit of time reading through our Code, and grappling with the literature (such that it is) on ethics and integrity in social work, I come back to the same place where I started, not too far from this author:

    Negative campaigns are not necessarily unethical. They certainly can be, but so can “positive” ones, to the extent to which they are misleading, or unfair, which is certainly not the exclusive purview of “attack” tactics.

    Our Code of Ethics requires more than just the factual honesty that is the key dividing line for many, though: we have a responsibility to respect the dignity and worth of every person, including the candidate (or elected official, or opposing advocate) in question, whose denigration might advance our cause.

    But because we know that eliciting strong emotions is key to influencing opinion, and because of the stakes involved in the electoral and policy campaigns in which we’re involved, failing to use the most effective tools at our disposal could, in fact, be seen as even more ethically ‘suspect’ than an attack which is carefully constructed so as to be persuasive but not manipulative, powerful but not vindictive, and compelling but not “truthy”.

    Obviously, in the electoral and policy arenas, social workers will have to make our own judgment calls about how to make these ethical decisions. But it’s clear that our Code of Ethics doesn’t mean to tie our hands so that we can’t, for example, expose the inconsistencies between a candidate’s voting record and stump speech, or label as racist the stereotypes emanating from the debate over Arizona’s anti-immigrant profiling bill.

    There are certainly ample examples of unethical campaigning–unethical by anyone’s standards.

    And then there are those, which, while technically true, would not meet social work’s standards, which require us to take into account the humanity of those who would be our adversaries.

    And, then, there is the failure of some social workers to boldly speak truth to power, using the Code of Ethics almost as a shield, to save us from the uncomfortable work of going after those who seek to harm the populations our profession has called us to defend.

    Now that’s unethical.