How to Save Your Heart and Body in Child Welfare (1 of 5)

Last month I promised to address each of the five “secret” factors that take child protection workers out at the knees. You can go ahead and read that here. I call them “secret” reasons because they’re either not obvious to the public or because they represent beliefs that we covertly cling to.

Saving Your Body

Let’s talk about safety. Humans are pretty crappy at judging whether or not we’re safe. Maybe its fair to say that our internal danger-meters were calibrated in a different age. Yet just for fun, let’s test our safety knowledge. Which is more dangerous to a social worker:

  1. An angry, yelling dad enters your office demanding to see his baby son
  2. Driving to a meeting across town

Continue reading “How to Save Your Heart and Body in Child Welfare (1 of 5)”

Five Secret Reasons You Will Quit Child Protection in the Next 14 Months

The Most Vulnerable Part of a Social Worker’s Body…

We are the only species on the planet that make use of story. I read once that the reason human beings emerged from among other primate species (like the Neanderthals) was because of their special superpower: the ability to use story and language. Neanderthals, as the story goes, could only coordinate among small, familial groups. Therefore their cumulative strength was only as powerful as the size of their family.
Homo sapiens, however, developed a keen ability to enthrall and motivate much larger groups via shared themes and collective narratives. That’s why they came out on top. Using stories, they could gather massive numbers of people and dominate their surroundings during times of war.
Think about all the world’s religions. At their core, they are really just powerful stories that people have embraced and internalized. I am not challenging the veracity of these tales, but rather making the point that for a human brain, hearing a story about something is pretty close to experiencing it directly. In fact, our brains light up in virtually the same way regardless.
ice_cream_sundaeThink about a scoop of ice cream sitting in a cold dish with hot chocolate fudge oozing down the sides. Can you taste it? You may be salivating already. Imagine that you are hiking at the grand canyon and that you are cautiously stepping toward the edge. You can see straight down to the river valley 4000 feet below. Did your feet start to tingle? Your rational mind knows that you are at your desk or on your phone sitting in your car, but your body doesn’t know that! It’s already preparing to hold onto some little tree should you spill over the edge.
In addition to being susceptible to other people’s narratives, we also have a set of stories we tell ourselves. For us, these stories are “truth”. That is, we have confidence that our stories are “actually” real. In fact, these stories are undoubtedly based in reality and and serve us well. For instance, we usually go to the trouble of showing up for work because we understand that if we do, then twice a month the electronic number in our savings account will bump up, and that somehow that electronic number means that if we show someone a little piece of plastic we can get a cup of coffee or a new dress.
We may not understand all of the mechanics of this because most of it is very complex, behind the scenes, and completely abstract. But we have enough faith in the “truth” of this story that we take on work tasks we don’t necessarily like and drive to the mall with the firm belief that someone will let us leave with that new dress in hand.
Sometimes our stories don’t serve us very well…or at least not anymore. Maybe we believe that we’re bad at math, so we never bother taking on projects that require it. That happened to me. I hated math because I had tried and tried as a kid, and never seemed to “get it”. Years later, I decided to take a chemistry course purely out of curiosity- to test the belief that I was math-challenged. The result? I aced the class. It seems that my belief was wrong– or at least it became wrong at some point.
That wrong belief is why I didn’t go to medical school. My life could have been totally different if I had just challenged that no-longer-true belief just a few years earlier. I read once that if you believe that you are a “7” out of “10” in a particular area of life, and if you find yourself performing at a “5”, you will naturally bring up your game so that your perceived performance matches your self concept. In the same way, if you find yourself operating at a “9”, you will unconsciously dial back your efforts or self-sabotage until you think you are back at a solid “7”.
Ok, Sean, thanks for the pop psychology class. But how do these ideas actually help me in my social work practice? Why does any of this matter? It matters for this reason:
The lives of social workers are decimated by stories.
How can that be? Well it’s actually quite basic. So basic, even, that we can be harmed over time without even noticing. When we hear stories of trauma again and again, it affects our own story- our greater life-story. Have you ever heard of “suspension of disbelief”? It is the idea that we allow ourselves to believe that a story is real so that we can get into the action and enjoy the film or book or play. Then why is it that when we watch movies we are not traumatized by the horrible and often graphic human destruction we see? It is because our brains aren’t so easily fooled- they can tell what is real and what is pretend. Since we were toddlers we learned to use make-believe to entertain ourselves, to learn about the world, and to build bridges with the children around us. So we are good at suspending disbelief.
sadkidTrouble ensues when we know that the story is real. We sit with a mom as she tells us how her partner came home two days ago and hit her with a chair. We can see the defensive wounds on her arms. We watch the tears stream down her face. We believe her. We accept her story as truth. This is not CSI or Law & Order- it’s real life. And because we believe her, we open ourselves up to a kind of trauma- the kind of harm that comes from knowing at a deep level that there is actual wrong and strife in the world. We are unsafe. We and those we love can actually be harmed.
So it seems that our ears are our most vulnerable bodypart as social workers.
Maybe the vicarious “harm of hearing” is more easily understood in other contexts. It happens all the time with phobias. Mom is scared of dogs, so her son develops an aversion to dogs- a vicarious aversion. Have you ever seen a startled baby held by a parent? What happens when a book falls off a shelf or a big laughing stranger walks into the room? Baby never reacts immediately- she will always look to mom or dad first. Mom and dad provide the context that baby hasn’t developed yet- she learns to be afraid (or calm) vicariously. Mom and dad know if this is normal or something to freak out about. We do it as adults too. We look at the sudden thing that happened across the road then we look back at each other for the collective reaction. We are relational beings.
Here’s where the real harm happens. The research tells us that when these traumatic tales are multiplied many times, our worldview bends and buckles. Our stories about ourselves shift. This is especially true when we work in fields where we don’t often see a lot of hope and change in people. Most of us graduate with our degree being fairly certain that we are a solid “7” or “8” in terms of being able to “help”.
Yet after months or years of traumatic exposures, witnessing chronic pathologies, and seeing our very best attempts have little to no effect on our patients or clients, our helping score starts to tank. Our sense of professional self-efficacy drops. Our own story can become impoverished and darkened. If we already struggle with depression or anxiety, those symptoms can be exasperated.
What’s your story? What beliefs have shifted for you since starting in your profession? Maybe you feel as though you are doing fine. That’s awesome! Maybe you’re struggling. That’s okay too. The good news is that there are solutions for vicarious trauma that work for most people. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Next week I am going to talk little about that light.
If you want a taste of what I am going to talk about, sign up here to get a free sample from my course and figure out your story.

Why Social Workers Should Go to Bootcamp

Let me say upfront that I am anti-war. I don’t like guns. I have almost zero desire to ever enlist into any sort of military program. Think of me as less “Booya!” and more “Kumbaya!” Yet, as I waded into the muck and mire of the social work profession, and later as I began conducting qualitative research into the effects of vicarious trauma on child protection social workers (and how we may prevent that trauma), my thoughts repeatedly landed on the usefulness of basic military training.
After all, the army trains soldiers to kill and be killed. To defend our country’s interests. They are in the business of life and death. In the theatre of war, lives and families and communities are shaken by all sorts of disruptions, trauma, and loss. How, then, does the military prepare its people to face all of this?
The process of becoming a social worker is actually quite similar in some important respects. Young people are drawn in by the allure of the profession. For soldiers-to-be maybe it’s a fascination with guns or a desire to be a part of something grander. For social workers-to-be perhaps it is the notion of making a profound difference in the lives of children or helping to foster societal change. Unfortunately many green social workers do not benefit from any kind of true “induction” process. There’s little “basic training”. Yes, there’s theory. There are roleplays and written reports or essays and maybe a practicum, but few up-and-coming social workers have actually been tested in the field.
I am reminded of the last term of my BSW. The class was “Counseling for Individuals” or something like that. We were sitting in the classroom doing a fishbowl exercise, and many of us were freaked out. A fishbowl exercise is a mock-counseling session performed by the students in front of the class. It doesn’t matter what theory you know or if you’ve been able to spout off to your fellow students about trendy new counseling interventions or about the skills you have. The fishbowl exercise is the reckoning. It’s the proof. It is in that moment when everyone will know whether or not you can actually conduct a helping conversation or a counseling session with someone. I have to tell you some people were literally sick at the thought of having to showcase their skills (or lack of) to their peers. Many did not show up to class that day. They just couldn’t face the idea that they may be shown to have fallen short. Now if you’ve been in the field for a few years, I doubt you’re scared of the fishbowl exercise. Why would you be? You know better now. How? You have been tested and have a calm sense of what you are capable of. You have nothing to prove because you’ve already passed the test.
However, many of those scared students graduate anyway, get hired by an agency, and they still have something to prove. They’re still scared. That’s where bootcamp would be truly helpful. Here are four things that basic military training instills that social service recruits could benefit from:

  1. Recruits are acutely challenged…and come out the other side.

You’ve seen the movies- a bunch of kids get put through hell on earth. They are treated poorly. They are kept up all night and made to run through mud and crawl under barbed wire. They are pushed more than they have ever been pushed in their entire lives. Unreasonable demands are made from them. They are pummelled repeatedly in unfair situations. They really suffer. Yet through it all they become unshakable. Suddenly the mundane aches and pains of life, the first-world difficulties and inconveniences are placed in context. Perhaps the greatest gift in all of this is that as they work through real and profound pain they realize that they are indeed capable. They will survive. The anxiety of not knowing whether or not they will measure up is replaced with a tested confidence in their own abilities.

  1. Recruits develop a robust sense of their place in the world.

A big part of this induction process is about fostering a strong identity. You can see it when you look at a soldier. They have a powerful sense of who they are and what their purpose is. They are not burdened by ambiguity or pluralistic thinking. There is an ironic freedom in this. They do not second guess themselves. They hold to a code. They live according to a system. When all else fails, they rely on the code and the system to get them through.
The other thing recruits benefit from is the acquisition of really useful skills. They train their bodies and their minds, they learn how to survive in the wilderness. They may learn how to fly a plane or fix electronics. They come out of basic training with the knowledge that they are vastly more capable human beings than when they went in. I have watched new social workers get overwhelmed with a full caseload and quickly spiral into avoidant behaviors, eventually getting in trouble and burning out. Yet there is something to be said for the confidence that comes from knowing that you can take competent action to get stuff done. Beginning social workers need early wins to prove to themselves that they have the chops needed to succeed in this insane career.

  1. Recruits form a deep sense of trust and fraternity with one another.

The great thing about living by a code is that you instantly know a great deal about your fellow soldiers. You get how they think because you’ve been trained to think the same way. Not only that, but because you have crawled in the mud together and have helped each other you experience a fellowship with one another that is rich and meaningful. You know that you have each others’ backs.
I am not going to suggest that being a soldier is the be-all end-all or that soldiers should be social workers (they shouldn’t). In fact, many of the qualities that social workers possess- sensitivity, tolerance of ambiguity, willingness to challenge their own beliefs- are what make them excellent helping professionals.
Yet remember that we are talking about lowering our susceptibility to trauma. This about our survival. We are talking about the emotional and psychological survival of large swaths of people who work as helpers and healers. In this area, the military is on to something. After all, as a profession they predate social workers by many millenia.
I am not saying that we should send our young BSW graduates to military boot camp. What I am saying is that if want to build ourselves into more resilient practitioners, we would be wise to first find ways to test and challenge ourselves- to put ourselves into challenging situations where we can acquire real skills. This would have the effect of making us relatively bomb-proof. It also provides a good boost to our self-concept. In fact, getting “better” (whatever that means for you) could be your greatest antidote to workplace trauma and burnout.
Second, we must have solid sense of what we believe about the world, about our clients, and about ourselves. Untested, faulty, and obsolete beliefs will shatter when taxed. Knowing who you are and what you believe in a robust way will inoculate you from the scourge of vicarious trauma. After all, vicarious trauma is really just the disillusionment and hopelessness that emerges as inadequate beliefs about the world break down and are revealed to be unhelpful. Finally, we must find ways to build solid attachments with those within our fields (these are our comrades in arms) and those on the outside who can be our trusted kindreds.
You may never hold an actual gun in your life or put your own body in harm’s way, but I can guarantee that if you work in social services you are in a state of profound emotional and psychological risk. Research about vicarious trauma and secondary traumatic stress teach us that we do not have to get shot to be harmed by a shooting. We don’t have to have a fist strike our face to be harmed by domestic abuse. All that is required is that we be continually accosted by the relentless tales of such.
Yet if we go on the offensive and train ourselves to overcome we can survive and even thrive.
So what do you think are the biggest challenges new social workers face? Leave a comment and let me know!

Many Social Workers will Hate Me for this One… (Drop the Myth of Work-Life Balance and Save Your Sanity- Part-6)

We’ve come to the end of my series on reducing your sense of overwhelm and stress at work and I have saved the best for last. I debated sharing this one action that, if taken, will lower your helping professional stress-load more than anything else. I know that your job is crazy. I know that some days you feel like trading your briefcase in and selling hot dogs on a street corner. But I’m warning you that the final action step I’m about to talk about slays a pretty big sacred cow and I expect to get some unkind emails about it. However before I share what it is, let’s recap what we’ve learned over the past five posts (if you want to just get on with it, by all means scroll down).
In the first post of this series (which can be found here), I argued that the notion of ‘work-life’ balance is only a myth that causes us a good deal of grief. I suggested that we can only do one thing at a time and that we get into trouble when we try to multitask. Feelings of overwhelm (leading to procrastination, compulsions, and feelings of hopelessness) often follow when we unsuccessfully try to achieve the imaginary state of “balance”.
I then promised to offer five solid actions, that if taken, would guarantee your feelings of overwhelm would diminish and be replaced by greater productivity and a heightened sense of subjective well-being. That’s a big promise! But I’m just curious- have you tried any of them yet? After all, knowledge adds little if one does not learn to execute. It’s like reading diet book after diet book, expecting that simply pouring over those pages will melt the pounds away. Okay, I’ll get off your back for now… Let’s recap what we’ve covered:
Action Step 1: Get it all out of your head and down on paper. You can find that post here. Write down every little job, idea, appointment, grocery item, emotion, wish, project, and “to-do” item that has been clogging up your precious noggin. After everything is down (it may be hundreds of items!) develop a master action list. Also, if you are an “idea” person, I would recommend keeping a journal close by for you to store all of those brilliant (and often distracting) thoughts. Once you have a prioritized list, start knocking them off one by one.
Action Step 2: Park passion and pursue performance. That post is here. This is primarily a mind-shift, but it leads to a completely different set of actions. When we release the self-focused idea that we should be “living our dreams” or “following our bliss” and instead adopt a mentality that is focused on enhancing our productive powers in the service of others, the result is a calm but powerful impact on the world. True bliss follows from this.
Case in point: when I started a new position years back (even though it was a clinical counselling job that I had been dreaming about having for more than a decade) I quickly became dissatisfied. I started searching the online job ads EVERY DAY for a year and a half. I became obsessed with finding the actual job that would satisfy my every desire. What if instead of that, I invested those 15-20 daily minutes into finishing my Ph.D., or into a weight training routine, or writing love letters to my wife, or in prayer and meditation? What could have been different in my life if I had spent those 182 hours  (or 5 weeks of full-time work) producing value instead of fruitlessly longing for something else? If you’re looking for a specific actionable step, try this: write down one thing you want to get really good at while at your present job. Create a list of the steps you would need to take over the next 6-12 months (including what resources to tap, who you can ask to mentor you, etc.) to make this happen.
Action Step 3- Systematize your work-life. Find it here. For a busy professional, systems are salvation. We require systems that allow us to free up our mental and emotional space for other things. Setting up your working life in a deliberate way is a bit of up front labour, I won’t lie. However, the more you learn to rely on habits and routines (aka: autopilot) instead of willpower to get your work done, the less of an emotional and psychological toll your work will exact on you. There are many work hacks specific to the helping professions that will save you a good deal of grief.
Action Step 4- Build good boundaries. That post is here. I would say that about 2% of people went into the helping professions because they wanted to make money or enjoy fame and prestige, or because it’s “just a job to pay the bills”. If I wanted a job that was solely about income I would have become an investment banker (sorry, investment bankers!). No, we got into the field because of a flame inside of us, large or small, that was stoked whenever we offered help to another human being. I would suspect that many of us (especially those of us in child protection or other “hardcore” helping jobs) also wanted to do something that mattered. We wanted to stand in the gap and make a difference.
The trouble is that what fuels that passion can also be recipe for poor boundaries. In turn, poor boundaries burn us out with a capital “B”. The number one issue I see is when social workers, counsellors, etc., start taking responsibility for items that belong solely to their clients. If you struggle with boundaries, I recommend sitting down and thinking about what you are and are not responsible for in your present position, and then vigorously defend your line.
Okay now that we’ve reviewed, let’s ready the sacred cow!
As I mentioned above, I would reckon that you are defined by your big heart. You are willing to crawl into the trenches and get dirty for your clients. It just seems like the right thing to do. Remember, we are talking about reducing feelings of overwhelm. Reducing burnout. Keeping you in the game. World War I was a war of attrition and the men who fought overseas experienced real physical trenches. Many of those who survived came home shell-shocked; they were forever changed. Many knew they would die in those trenches and were prepared to pay that price. What most didn’t know, however, was that if they survived, their lives would never be the same. Simply being in the trench harmed them, even if they never took a bullet. Why? Because they watched their friends take bullets for them. And for every one terrifying thing they watched with their own eyes on the battlefield, they heard the stories of ten or twenty more they didn’t see.
Now, how do I say this? How do I convey this concept without sounding cold-hearted or cynical? Allow me to just come out and say it. If you want to survive in a helping field like social work, there is one thing you need to do- one thing that will protect you:
You have to stop caring with your emotions. You must remove your emotional presence from the horrific things you hear about.
I know that this is a tricky concept, so let me try to explain myself.
I am not saying you shouldn’t care, period. What I am saying is that you have to learn to care in a way that is sustainable.
Let’s look at this logically. Think about cognitive-behavioural therapy. We know that it isn’t the thing that happened that makes us upset- it’s the way we think about the thing that happened. We know that sometimes people have misbeliefs that cause them to experience unnecessary grief. We all know that if we ruminate on catastrophic thoughts (like maybe my husband will die or maybe my child will be kidnapped or maybe I will be diagnosed with terminal cancer) that our mental and emotional state can take a nose dive pretty quick. And that’s all imaginary!
Or perhaps we hear that our brother fell off the roof and broke his leg or that our daughter is getting a divorce. Even though these things aren’t happening directly to us, we are devastated because of the strong bonds we have. We naturally take on their emotions and grieve with them. This is totally normal and makes us human.
Yet helping professionals step into those traumatic stories all the time, all day long. If you are like most of your big-hearted peers, it means that you will be naturally inclined to stand closely with your clients. You’re compelled to deeply empathize with them and support them; to feel what they are feeling as though they were your family.
What makes this a problem is that the human heart can only withstand so much of this before it begins to truly suffer- this is what some have called vicarious trauma and secondary traumatic stress. I have argued in the past that experiencing this trauma puts us on the road to burnout quickly. That’s why the average lifespan of a child protection worker is only 14 months.
So when I say, “stop caring with your emotions” I mean just that. You may already notice that most seasoned older workers do this anyway. They say and do the right things and are very professional. They communicate authentic empathy to clients. Yet upon further examination you may observe a certain subtle detachment about them. If you watch closely, you can see that things don’t land very hard on them. They don’t think about their young client who was sexually assaulted when they go home at night. In fact, they rarely dwell on those things. Yes, they meet his needs at work. They act with compassion and understanding. But they disavow the weight of what has occurred.
You may be asking, “Ok, Mr. Smart Guy, just how am I supposed to do that? Turn off my heart? Not care? Yeah right!” I want you to know that I hear you and I don’t have any easy answers or turnkey solutions. What I can say is this: in high-trauma professions like social work, this dynamic takes out more good people than anything else. The really scary part? If you do acquire full-blown secondary traumatic stress, the recovery rate is only 50%. Those aren’t good odds.
I promise to go into much more detail about the steps you can take to protect yourself from vicarious trauma and secondary traumatic stress in future posts. But for now, think about how counsellors extinguished phobias in clients- through graduated exposure therapy. When you get thrown into a scary job, there’s nothing gradual about it- just a lot of exposure! Eventually, however, as you learn that you are personally safe from harm and that your extreme emotions are not needed, those heavy feelings begin to subside.
Think about becoming a skydiving instructor versus skydiving the first time. The very first time you jump out of a plane, what are you thinking? “I am going to die!!” Why would you think that? Because you should die! Jumping out of planes is not normal. Yet after many, many jumps, the fear disappears. Why? Because in spite of your actions, you remain unharmed over time. Your brain knows this and therefore doesn’t need to flood itself with fight or flight hormones. By the time you’re teaching others to jump out of planes it’s an emotional piece of cake.
Eventually, you will be able to think and talk professionally about the horrific things you see and hear without carrying the emotional weight of those things. That is the nature of disavowal. It’s like any other icky job you can’t avoid doing like changing dirty diapers or taking out the compost bucket. You learn to dissociate from the disgust of it, while still getting the job done.
One final caveat. This is not the same as what can happen to those who have undergone extreme trauma. Victor Frankl described the experience of people completely shutting down emotionally while in concentration camps after undergoing unspeakable suffering. In that case, their entire emotional centers collapsed in an attempt to cope with their extreme condition. This is something qualitatively different. In our case we are talking about ways that we can preserve our hearts while at work so that we can be emotionally available for our friends and family when we get home.
When you learn this vital skill, you will be better protected from the scourge of repetitive stress injuries- not of your hands or legs, but of your heart. And the state of your heart is all that matters to me.
That’s the end of this series, but stay tuned- there’s more to come.
Wishing you all the best.

Heal Thy Boundaries (Drop the Myth of Work-Life Balance and Save Your Sanity- Part 5)

As someone who has worked for the past decade in front line social work, I have seen a lot of crazy stuff. I have witnessed boat-loads of grief. I have heard tales of trauma and deep sadness and absolute terror that would make your skin crawl. I’m sure many of you can relate. Working in direct practice with clients can be really hard. Yet the thing that nags at me the most is this:
I hate watching social workers turn themselves into emotional pretzels because they can’t see where they end and the client begins.
Does that sound harsh? Please let me explain myself.
A few weeks ago I promised to lay out a few practices that, if taken, would ensure a reduction in your subjective sense of overwhelm and an increase in workplace serenity. My motivation is that I want you to feel better and I want you to stay in the game. One of the most significant stressors I have witnessed is a tendency by dedicated, good-hearted helping pros to become emotionally over-involved with the people they serve. Now, we can expect that when you get to know a family you will become attached. That’s a pretty human process and I don’t want you to feel bad about that.
Trouble comes when we subtly cross an emotional line of responsibility. Here’s what I mean: if you are a child protection worker and a child on your caseload experiences harm in some way, whose fault is it? Assuming you did what you could based on what you knew in line with the mandate of your position, it is categorically NOT YOUR FAULT. If you’re a crisis line counselor and you get a call from a depressed person, perhaps you try your absolute hardest to respond to that caller compassionately and with deep empathy. The call ends when they tell you that you just don’t understand them (or something meaner) and they hang up on you. Is that your fault? IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT.
And yet we can feel the pressing guilt of failure, as though we caused their abuse or we caused their depression.
I frequently have workers confide in me that when things go wrong on their caseload they feel personally responsible. I have watched countless social workers burn out, quit, or simply endure significant suffering because they truly believe that on some level they were responsible for their client’s grief or they could have done more.
If you can relate to this, please be gentle with yourself. You probably come by it honestly. What I mean is that as a helping professional I am willing to bet that you were called to this career because of vivid formative experiences. Perhaps you “became the emotional parent” for your younger siblings or even for your mom when you were a kid. Maybe you simply found that your classmates in high school regularly confided in you and it felt really good. There is no shame in any of this. What we need to keep in mind, however, is that we may also carry longstanding misbeliefs into our professions that can reek emotional havoc on our hearts in the here-and-now.
Boundaries 101
What is a boundary? It is where you end and another person begins. Let’s look at some more obvious ones. I can’t take off my coworker’s shoe. Why? It’s her shoe and her foot, not mine. I have my own shoe. I can’t expect my friend to pay my cell phone bill. That’s my bill, not his. It is my responsibility.
Boundaries become a little trickier when children are involved. For instance, if your two year old runs across the street and gets hurt, who’s responsible? I’m afraid it’s you. Entirely you. The reason is that the little guy is only two and you are fully responsible for his safety. Now fast-forward 20 years. If your 22 year old runs across the street and gets hurt, who’s responsible? Is it you? In NO WAY is it you. Why? Because now your little guy is a grownup and is completely responsible for himself.
Our boundary relationships develop more or less instinctively. For example, if you saw someone else’s two year old bolt out onto the street, you may jump in AS THOUGH you were their parent. You’re not actually responsible, but it just feels like you should be. The same happens with our clients. We watch them live their lives at a range of capacities. Sometimes, those capacities are marginal at best.
The result is that we may unconsciously become the “parent” in a parent-child type relationship.
And if you are the parent in a parent-child relationship, guess what- in your head and heart you’re responsible! Let’s take this a little further. If you are responsible as an actual parent to your clients then what of your lunch break? No, parents don’t get lunch breaks. What about leaving at 5pm? No, parents don’t get to leave their job at 5pm. What about suffering verbal abuse from your client? No, parents have to just take it (actually, if your client was really your young child, you would be granted the power to step in and train that child so that they stop verbally abusing you. But they are only your client, remember?).
What I am saying is that it is so easy to find ourselves in an emotional quagmire of messed up roles and boundaries. This, in turn, is a recipe for compulsive work behaviours, feelings of overwhelm, and eventually emotional burnout. The hard fact is that if you think that this applies to you, it’s actually your job to correct it. You need to sort yourself out and perhaps re-establish healthy boundary lines.
If you are feeling overwhelmed about where to begin with repairing your boundaries, here is a simple plan of action that I have plucked from my Recover Your Resilience course that I think could be a good start in terms of rethinking your practice:

Discerning process from outcome.
As a helping professional, you get paid for process, or what I call “process commitments”. You are paid to show up, to work with your client population, to think about them, to strategize with them, to partner with them to achieve goals, and to hopefully be an agent of change in their lives. Of course you are invested. You desire great outcomes. This is why you got into your field- you want to help people to recover/heal/grow/get better. However, you are not ultimately responsible for the decisions of your clients. You owe a duty of care to them and you may even hold a statutory office, such as a legal mandate to protect children on your caseload. Those are significant responsibilities, to be sure. Yet at the end of the day, 99% of the time you are really not responsible for your clients’ ultimate outcomes (There are a few exceptions, such as if you are directly caring for a child or someone with an intellectual disability and hold direct responsibility. Even then, we may take on extra guilt that is not ours to endure).
When meeting with your supervisor or with clients it is important to get straight what your goals are. I never begin working with a client until I am clear with myself, my client, my supervisor, the referring social worker, or the agency, in writing, what the goals are. Having the goals put in writing and signed by all parties allows you to defend yourself later if needed (The good news is that many agencies already have these goal-based systems in place). Remember that if an item or goal in the contract is listed as an outcome, it should only have the client’s name attached to it. If it is a matter of process it can also have your name attached (if you have truly agreed to it).
Here are some examples of desired Outcomes:

  • Client will maintain sobriety
  • Client family lowers risk factor X
  • Client’s global assessment of functioning goes from 17 to above 40.
  • Client will return to work by the end of March

Here are some examples of process commitments:

  • Client will attend all scheduled appointments
  • Therapist will liaise with school to discuss support options
  • Client will enroll and attend Positive Parenting Program
  • Social Worker will schedule one hour per week with client

Notice that only the client is responsible for outcomes but either client or worker can be responsible for process commitments. So then, you can be held responsible for, say, not calling the Drug and Alcohol Rehab Centre as agreed upon to see about enrollment for your client. That does not make you responsible for your client’s commitment to sobriety, however.
When clients feel the negative effects of their choices, it makes sense that they will sometimes look for other places to place blame. Actually most of us do this- it is a way to preserve our sense of self or dignity in the face of failure. It can therefore be a frequent occurrence when a child is apprehended from a home for a parent to say “This is your fault! You didn’t meet with me enough!” or “I didn’t know that X was your bottom line- you didn’t tell me!”
I know that this section may come across as somewhat adversarial or “lawyer-ish”. In other words, it sounds as though it assumes the worst about people- that our clients will be manipulative, that our bosses will blame us, that we will have to fight for our vocational lives in an unsafe system. The sad fact is that to some degree this is true. Hurt people hurt people. Dysfunction and its consequences are central to our profession. However, the primary reason for having goals and expectations set out in writing, every time, is to actually facilitate functional, trusting relationships. Fences exist between neighbors to keep pets and shrubs on the right side and mark out everyone’s territory. That does not assume animosity between those neighbors, but instead it lays a groundwork for a fair and mutually beneficial relationship.

How are your boundaries? What lines have been crossed in your life by your family members, clients, or friends? Let us know in the comments section below.