Everyday, housing staff make life-changing decisions that become permanently etched into the stories and experiences of the customers and communities we serve. So we'd better do a good job, and enjoy doing it. Fortunately, the reality of housing isn't quite as grim as the media would sometimes like to have us believe.
The upside of being a political football, constantly punted from one end of the policy pitch to the other, is that housing is always changing and never dull. Whether driven by legislation, elections, finance or technology, there are always new horizons and opportunities to explore. I can recall feeling dispirited, worn out and sad on occasions in my career, but never bored. Not for a minute.
Some perceive housing as a second-grade profession – for people who can't quite cut it as social workers, City financiers or commercial property developers. Wrong. Frontline housing work connects you with the intimacy of human life, good and bad, like no other. And the achievement of steering new homes and regeneration schemes through a sticky web of complex funding, land deals and regulation far outweighs anything in the private sector.
As a student, I had a temporary job doing on-board passenger surveys for a bus company. One of the drivers once said to me, "the great thing about working with the public, is that you're guaranteed a really good laugh, every day." And how right he was.
In housing, customers play a greater and more hands-on role than in any other comparable service or business. Staff in lots of sectors are insulated from the direct feedback and experience of their clients and consumers. And they're much the poorer for it.
There are some classic housing urban myths – incidents that staff often claim to have witnessed or heard about . There's the horse-in-the-living-room yarn and the one about the gift of brazil nuts from an elderly customer (you don't want to know … ). It's doubtful that either of these ever happened, but why let the truth get in the way of a good story?
My own (true) favourite, was the colleague who convinced the repairs manager that a new tenant had a pet lynx. She very nearly persuaded him to design and measure up the back door for a giant lynx-flap. How's that for a tailored, personal approach to service?
In a job where there's no beginning and no end, it's important to savour these experiences and celebrate successes (however small) when they come around.
Housing can also create moments of raw, touching emotion. And small acts can make a massive difference. As a young trainee working in a London council homelessness team, I once helped an 80-year-old man move into a sheltered flat, after he was ousted, King Lear-style, from his daughter's home. A few weeks later, he sent me a card in spidery handwriting to thank me "for being such a grand Scout" and enclosed some dried mint he'd grown in his new window box. I've still got and treasure the card.
With the coalition busy shaking up some of the fundamentals we've grown used to over decades, it's important to remember that, for most people, housing is the platform for all other life chances and choices. It's also important that as a sector we don't let the current problems drag us down. We chose to work in housing because we appreciate that it really can be a vital and fun sector. Now we need to make sure others know that.
• What is the best thing about your job? Have a favourite moment which makes all the day to day frustrations worth while? Tell us about it in the comments.
Ian Hembrow is a freelance and senior consultant with the Bridge Group.
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