Reflection Paper

Process recordings have been very helpful in allowing me to see my strengths and areas that need improvement. It allows for me to check if I am using my competencies correctly and applying all the skills I have been thought. They also allow for feedback from my field supervisor so that I ensure the best services for my clients. I gain a better understanding of what I need to change about my approach and how to develop proper treatment goals with my clients. I get to put the knowledge I gained in all my classes to help a better understanding of the role of a social worker.

Following the Asian Financial Crisis of 1997, the IMF bailout provided desperately needed funds to revive South Korea’s economy but came with a caveat of strict mandates. The aftermath left sectors of its economy eviscerated, patches of its society dissolved and sent my family on a plane to the United States. What could have been a typical American dream narrative, however, not only molded my character but also evolved into a lifelong aspiration in global affairs.

When my parents split up, I prayed to God to help my mom win custody over my siblings and me. Every night they would go unanswered, so I prayed that my dad would stop being a monster. That didn’t work either. My parents split up because they would fight a lot and because my dad was a mean person. He would abuse us with anything he could get his hands on because he would get angry at the littlest things. An example, is when me and my sister shared a room but we didn’t get along so one night we got into a huge argument and my dad ‘spanked’ us with a wooden board. I prayed that everything would get better for my family. No, I didn’t want them to get back together, I just wanted all the fighting to stop. Still every time I prayed it seemed to go unheard, unanswered. So, I gave up on religion, I quit praying and ended up resenting God. Even though I quit believing in Him, I never let my mom loose her faith. I would talk her into going to church any time that she could. I went along with her because I was trying to get some connection back to God. Nothing seemed to work for me, so I just stopped trying. I believed that if there was a God then he is cruel and doesn’t care.

I have learned many aphorisms, or lessons, throughout my life so far. My family, friends, teachers, and pretty much everyone has taught me something in one way or another. These lessons usually come through in a change in my life. One change important to me was getting a job. This job has given me a positive learning experience (for the most part) and an education of working with others. Well, here’s what I know about going to work.

Say: Today is a big day! We are going to write our individual page for our mini series. We are going to pull our information off our organizer to write our story like we did when we wrote our narratives earlier. Watch and listen to how I take the details I wrote in my organizer and turn it into a story about my tradition. I want to be sure I use details to help my readers get a picture in their mind about my tradition.

I was walking down the hallway of the hospital when I heard a patient calling out for help in a familiar language. As I walked into the Russian patient’s room, I noticed a group of nurses trying to decipher her concerns. Despite their efforts, she was still crying out for help due to the language barrier hindering her communication with the nurses about her severe abdominal pain. I happily stepped in and translated between the patient, named Yekaterina, and the nurses. The genuine look of gratefulness in her eyes along with the constant “sposibo” of gratitude I received from her for doing such a simple deed was truly something I will never take for granted. Quite often we find ourselves falling into a daily routine, making it easy to lose sight of why we are doing what we love in the first place. After many months of volunteering at the Hollywood Presbyterian Medical Center, this fortuitous instance of being in the right place at the right time reminded me of why I was at the hospital. I was there to help Yekaterina, and other patients like her in the future. I treasure this moment and this memory because it represents perhaps the first time when I stopped feeling like I was simply trying to help patients, and instead stepped into my true role as a healthcare professional making a tangible difference in the lives of people in need of healing.

In school, I used to loathe the icebreakers that involved saying an interesting fact about oneself. I would fumble around and iterate some unoriginal sentiment about my favorite color or animal and leave without actually providing substance about myself. This all changed after I lost the vision in my right eye and could tell people about the three-inch needle that pierces my eye multiple times every year. I thoroughly enjoy watching people squirm as I chuckle and explain the process.

It was on a cold day in January, 2015 when I thought my whole world was going to be flipped upside down. We were living at my grandmother’s house at the time, and in the back of my mind I knew that we were going to move into our own house because that was the plan ever since we sold our old house. With this in mind, I still remember how I felt when my parents came home one night and said, “Our offer on a house was accepted and that we were moving at the end of summer.” I visited this house with them before, but we visited many houses over the past couple years so it sort of came as shock that everything was official. Living at my grandmother’s house was not ideal and it was no walk in the park so I was happy that I was going to have a place my family could call our own again. Although I was excited, I was also nervous and scared because the house is located 45 minutes away from where we currently live. That meant I was going to leave my friends and family and basically everything I’ve ever known.

First I would like to mention that I enjoyed reading this Chapter as it hit home for me because the teachers from Loyola Marymount University believe in building family and community strengths and I fit that mold. Even though demonstrating passion and empathy is mostly frowned upon by many in our institutions due to concentrating on teaching to the test. If you provide your students with a safe learning environment, my experiences have shown that they are more apt to flourish. As a result, I provide this type of atmosphere in my classroom. For example, one of the teachers interviewed, Leticia Ornelas, had “Lotion Day” Nieto (2013). I have shared my lotion with students as well. Some of them fall under the English as a Second Language (ESL) programs. And like she mentions, it provides them with a safe, caring, and passionate learning environment because you build that rapport. Building teacher to student relationships is essential to student outcomes.

“Through salvation our past has been forgiven, our present is given meaning, and our future is secured” -Rick Warren. Sunday, November 30, 2014 around 12:40 was a very special day for me. Life-changing you could say. This was a breaking of a new day to me. A fresh start and a very new beginning. This is a day that I never will forget. The day when my heart was spiritually opened and an opened invitation was held out to a certain someone. The day I was baptized in Jesus name. Baptism is a sacred event for Christians. It is considered an ordinance of Jesus Christ. It is a concept of being submerged under water to be considered ‘’saved’’. Being saved in other words is saved means that you are accepting Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior. He is now the center of your life. It means giving up yourself and doing the work of Christ. It means turning from anything that is against the will of the highest. The day I gave my life to Christ was very special to me because I learned a lot that day. I learned who I was, who I was in Christ, and what life after this meant for me.

I don’t really know when exactly I noticed that I was “different” but, about 8th grade. My education started in pre-kindergarten where showed my first signs of emotional, social, and communication disabilities, however it was just chalked up to being a little slow. In elementary school teachers and students verbally, socially, and physically bullied me. Students both my age and older would use “dodgeball to physically attack me. I was often made fun of for being slow or “weird” and the teachers themselves would often leave me out of class and would use me as an example of what not to be like. Finally, after being told by my principle in front of my parents that I was “never going to amount to anything” it was right about then when I was officially diagnosed with Autism. After that I left the elementary school and I went to three other schools where I could get help from teachers that were prepared to help. In some of the schools I was still bullied though not as horrible and others were perfectly fine, but I not still didn’t receive the help that I needed to become motivated and overcome “scars” left behind. During my early education mother helped me communicate a phrase that I felt perfectly describe how I felt “Spiraling down in a world that secluded those who were different”. After going to 6th grade I finally meet people who felt the same way as I did, however it was short lived as junior high came around my mom decided I should be home schooled. After a year and half

Wasted Youth and constant void. Growing up and entering adulthood can be one of the scariest things to anticipate. Adults tell us to enjoy our adolescence for as long as we can, because it won’t last forever. Maturity has its pros like legally being able to drink, ability to drive etc. yet it holds the other aspects like, liability. Adulthood can be an extremely scary thing to anticipate as we will suddenly be exposed to responsibility. Some youth accept this fact while others try to run.

There will be times in life that knocks you down so hard that you feel as if you don’t have the strength to get back up. It is all about how you handle the situations that show just how strong you truly are. All my life I have been a victim of bullying. Every time the bullies came to me I acted strong but once I got home I would lock myself in my bedroom for hours crying asking God what have I done wrong, and why me. The bullying had gotten so bad that it had led up to depression. I have tried cutting and overdosing more than once. But nothing was there to ease the pain that I had felt. One day I didn’t eat. That one day lead to a week, which leads to a month, which led to 3 months. I lived off half a baby plate of food for dinner a day because my mindset was saying to me that I needed to be skinny for people to like me. So, yes I was physically starving myself at the age of 14. Once it was time for Freshman year to start I finally felt beautiful, at least that is what I had thought. Shortly within the school year, the bullying came back and the depression hit me in the face once again. This time I wasn’t trying to starve, I was eating excessively and I wasn’t cutting. I wasn’t doing anything but lying down in my bed with earbuds in trying to isolate myself. People think that depression is just sadness. It isn’t. Depression is when you feel completely empty. You start to think and wonder what the future hold for you but yet all you see is black because you start to see a

When I was four years old, in the dining room of the house in Geneva my family was renting, I unleashed one of my historic temper tantrums. “Mom, no one talks in your dumb language!” I said, vowing to never speak it again. While my mother was upset I was insulting her native tongue, German, she understood my mindset. My experience growing up in different places meant my perception of the world wasn’t reflective of my ethnic background; while we travelled to Germany every year for the holidays, we had never lived there. At this point in my life, I treasure the fact that I grew up in a bilingual household with parents who were passionate about language, but my journey to this point has been a strange one.

When I picked up the book Make the Impossible Possible by Bill Strickland, I could not help but form a negative opinion about it. I thought, “Great. Here is another book trying to tell me how to generically make my life better.” I looked up at Ms. Purser with a sneer and pessimistic thoughts running through my head. As soon as I began reading the first chapter, though, my opinion turned on its head. This was proving to be a book written from a real person’s perspective. Instead of cliché instructions on how to improve my life, I was reading the story of a man who came up in the ghetto, but changed his mentality and began leading a