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Personal Narrative: A Career As A Social Worker

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People always ask you the same question when they find out that you want to pursue becoming a social worker and it is often accompanied with an elaborate, somewhat frightened facial expression – “why?” But like most other passions, it is not an idea that randomly registers as you are examining eggs on aisle 14 at your local grocery store or appears as some sort of revolutionary epiphany. As a child, we hear young minds express their interest in becoming fire fighters, police officers, or even doctors but it is rare to hear a child exhale his or her curiosity about social work. Deciding to embark on the path to a profession that requires an individual to face real-world experiences that often lead to poor mental health, rare human behaviors, …show more content…

It is known as the Fern Capital of the World, but to me it felt like the twilight zone, trapping everyone who stepped foot into those cities limits. There was only one stop light and it is was highly likely that the same kid you knew to eat his boogers in 4th grade was the same teenage boy sitting behind you in home room repeatedly assaulting the back of your chair in the 9th grade. It was small-town living and a relatively slow life, except when you walked through the front door of the place I called home. My mother had me a month after she turned 16 and over the next 5 years, she would give me three additional siblings. The man who gave me life never hung around to see me blow out my candles on my first birthday and I would be forced to grow up never being able to experience the love of a father or to be quite frank, the love of a mother. Becoming a teen parent is never easy, but being a single teen parent becomes an obstacle that constantly restricts you from being able to keep your head above water. The first 12 years of my life consisted of being shuffled to numerous rental houses, living with my grandmother in between, and changing school zones with each new semester. Eventually, my mother would land a job that meant we would not be forced to ingest bologna sandwiches at each meal or wear the same clothes we modeled on the last day of school to the first day of classes the following year. It wasn’t like she won …show more content…

I had always felt this natural gravitation towards the incarcerated population only because much of my family members, including my absent father and criminally fueled siblings, were often circulated through the system. I noticed that no matter how long their wrap-sheet was, my love for them never shifted. At the end of the day, I possessed the ability to see past their hardened exterior and assist them without judgement. I decided to do my first placement at a level 12 group home for probationary girls ages 12-17 with significant behavioral issues. My time at this particular agency was the most emotionally and physically challenging occurrence I had ever encountered as a woman, a scholar, and a professional. Each and every day I spent at the group home was filled with countless hours of crisis intervention, conflict resolution, and rigid therapeutic-driven discussion. These young ladies were often in emotional distress and I learned quickly the urgency of patience, physiological resiliency, and authenticity. I learned first-hand the importance of being self-aware and handling any inner emotions potentially suppressed throughout life. It was an interminable, but a rewarding three and half months and much to my surprise, I made a significant lasting impression on those young ladies. I received an outpouring of positive feedback from the staff and I

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