My early experiences of the care system are vague but they consisted of a mix of children’s homes and foster placements in London. Each time I was moved into a foster home it inevitably broke down, leading back to another children’s home. There was little attention to my emotional or educational needs. I felt lost, worthless, not deserving of love and full of unanswered questions. Questions I am still working through.
I moved to Somerset and into a long-term foster placement when I was 11. Throughout this time, I felt I had no identity. I engaged in devious, risky behaviour, I was very guarded and felt lost.
I had been placed with people who showed a great deal of compassion, empathy, love and belief in people. I am grateful that I was part of a nurturing environment, living with individuals who cared so deeply, and having these positive traits instilled in me, too.
I had both positive and negative experiences of social workers. I was fortunate that the majority that worked with me did so for long periods. I vowed that once I left the care system at 21, I would have nothing more to do with it, although I didn’t want to become another negative care-leaver statistic.
After leaving care, I returned to London and lived on my own with no real aspirations. I went through a phase of education (unsuccessfully), fell in and out of employment and became caught up in a culture of alcohol and violence. Like many before me, I thought a period in the army would be the most realistic option for a successful life.
But I didn’t share the regiment’s beliefs and values, so left and moved to Bristol with no idea of my next move. It was not until I had ended a difficult long-term relationship that I came across a quote from the Stoic philosopher Epictetus: “First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do.” That was the moment I decided to become a social worker.
I knew I could do a better job than the majority I had encountered as a child. Many of them lacked empathy – a vital component in the relationship-building process.
Needless to say, those with whom I built up healthy relationships spent the longest time supporting me. I remember one birthday, following a social worker I had only met that day around a toy shop, while being told that I could have whatever I wanted. Toys were not what I needed; I needed a stable, loving environment, not another children’s home or foster placement. I needed more thought put into meeting my basic needs. I didn’t need to be already written off, because that is what it felt like.
I could go for what seemed like months without seeing a social worker. When I did, there seemed little progression for me within the system. This lack of a consistent social worker, or communication, left me feeling abandoned. You become resigned to this way of living, having to fend for yourself. There were few consequences for my actions; being in care was an excuse that got me out of every situation.
I knew it would be challenging and emotionally difficult to be social worker myself – but most of all I knew I could become an agent of change, breaking the sequence of negative outcomes for those in the care system. Becoming a social worker seemed a logical progression from service user to service provider.
This journey has been emotionally demanding – many times it has nearly broken me and I flirted with quitting. I started the course with the preconception “I am the expert, what can you tell me about the profession I don’t already know”. I soon came to realise, however, that there was more to it than I could have ever imagined. I tried to resist what I was being taught and to repel the change of self. Once I changed, however, I no longer felt lost or worthless, while I gained an understanding of myself and the strengths I can bring to this profession.
Not a day goes by where I take my position for granted. I have spent countless years walking with one foot hanging over the cliff and within months, I am going to be a social work graduate of Plymouth University. It makes me so proud to be able to say this and I feel privileged to be entering the profession. Not bad for someone who was excluded from school at 15.
I don’t believe I will become a stereotypical social worker. I am quite radical in my approaches. In spite of this I have an ethical dilemma. Should I really work for a local authority, knowing what I know about the organisational structure?
Whatever I end up doing, I will be an emotionally resilient and empathetic practitioner who will understand, support, encourage, guide, motivate and inspire others on their own challenging journeys.
