A Letter of Thanks to All Social Workers in the World
-by SequoiaProject on Jun 1, 2010
Dear Social Workers,
The work you do matters. On the days when you are burnt out, and questioning if it does, take a few moments to read this letter.
I was 12-years old when I first met Dale. I was lost in a world of institutions and dormitories for the last few years. The reasons why I didn’t understand. At the time I thought I was broken and no good. I later learned it was my home that was broken. My father was an abusive alcoholic and kept his entire family in a constant state of fear. My mother ran out on the family when I was 3. The county became involved when schools noticed behavior problems. A decision was made to put me into the institutions that could maybe help.
Dale explained to me that he was a social worker, and that he promised to help find a regular home an family for me. I liked that idea! I had no clue what a ‘social worker’ was but he seemed really kind. I also didn’t know what a regular home or family was like either. There was a side of me that wished him luck in finding this home. I was convinced that nobody really cared.
Dale kept his word. It took a little while but I’ll never forget our driving away from the huge and cold institution I had been at. The place meant well but it was no place to grow up. I remember, to this day, how much faith and trust I had in Dale. I didn’t want to show him these things because I was used to disappointment and rejection. I played the tough kid role and acted like it didn’t matter. It did though. The ‘tough’ kid act was a defensive wall I had learned to put up, so I could pretend nothing could hurt me.
The foster home he introduced me to became the home he promised. I wish I could say that life suddenly became easier but it didn’t. I, again, had trouble in school and in this new home. What I did have though were people around me who really cared. I pushed the envelope all the way too. I was convinced that if I acted up bad enough Dale would give up on me and the family would send me away. It was my way of testing and seeing if these things would happen.
This was over 35 years ago. I just talked with him on the phone a few weeks back. He has retired and was preparing to move to a new town. He and his wife wanted to be closer to a daughter (who was soon to have triplets). He called simply to share what his new address was and phone number. I know his wife and have watched his children have little ones of their own. Never in personal ways but always being kept up to date on their lives. I hope they will someday read this and know it is their father I am writing about.
The next time you are questioning whether your work matters believe that it does. He never judged me or was mean. His voice was the only compassionate sound I heard, during some of my darkest and confusing hours of my young life. We did not always get along and agree on things either. When I became an adult he helped guide me as a friend. I did not understand, at 18, why he could no longer have the same contact with me, but as the years passed we simply became friends. So the next time little Johnny has you pulling your hair out, questioning everything, read this simple letter. You do make a difference. Please forward this to every social worker you know.
Sincerely,
A once lost child.
The Sequoia Project
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