Entries in social work (24)

Thursday
Oct152009

Reaping the whackness

The last time I visited my super hero doctor, she decided to run some tests because I've been feeling unwell for several weeks. Great news, all is ok. There was some whackness with my thyroid and I'm still measuring big but nothing too out of the ordinary during pregnancy. Basically, she told me to rest and take care of myself. Seriously? I have a full time job, a toddler, a show in thee weeks and she wants me to rest? Yes, she wants to me rest. I tell her I don't think that will be possible. She responds, "Then don't come complaining to me when you're tired."

Noted.

In all honesty, I'm ready to be done with the social work gig, but I've committed to see it through. I adore my boss beyond anything I've experienced. He is a soul mate and has become one of my dearest friends. I would walk off a cliff, gladly, if he asked me to. Eva is rocking my world right now. She's in a fantastic phase, and I'm loving every single minute I'm with her. And the show...the show...the show. There aren't enough hours to get everything done, but I love this work. I spent a few minutes in my studio this afternoon and had the strongest feeling that this is what I'm suppose to be doing. All of my extra time for the next few weeks will be spent on this show, but every single second of it feels totally and completely radical.

That said, I know my schedule is not sustainable, so I've decided to find ways to trim the fat. Until that happens, I would love for you to celebrate the upcoming show with me.


Stephanie Hatzenbuehler of Lula Photography

invites you to an Artist's Reception

Color and Contrast

Opening November 6th, 5-8pm

Exhibiting through Nov 28th

The Gallery at Haromon's and Barton's
584 Congress Street - 2nd Floor
Portland, ME



Wednesday
Oct072009

Regaining focus

I had a nice conversation with a friend yesterday, a friend who I trust explicitly. We talked a bit about the absurd nutballness of my life and how that's been reflected in my writing on this blog. I asked her to comment, and with the warmest of smiles she replied, "It seems that your most recent writing is lacking focus." Man, I love that woman. It was exactly what I needed to hear.

Let me explain why my unfocused writing is reflecting my unfocused life.

I just lost my social work job. I still have funding through the end of the year, but there is lots of 'wrapping up' to do with the people I work with. Ending these work/service relationships has been excruciating. Dealing with the evil politics at the clinic where I work has been unendurable.

I was involved in a sexual harassment case at work. I was harassed. Everything has been taken care of in a solid manner. That's all, legally, I can say about that.

Lately, I've been feeling ill. The ouchy foot is 85% better, but I've been simultaneously feeling terrible...like I have a cold or fatigue virus that won't go away. I'm still measuring slightly big in the belly, but my superhero doc (and Ferris) are unconcerned because it's relatively normal. I realize I'm a pregnant woman with a 2 1/2 year old and more than one job...so, maybe that could be the reason for the fatigue. No doubt it's a contributor, but I still have a nagging feeling that something is not quite right. The baby is healthy, but I worry about myself. The doc ran some tests. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

I'm getting on an airplane in four hours for a brief trip to Utah for my big brother's wedding. Ferris and Eva are staying behind, for worse or for better. At this point, I don't think I could handle a cross-country trip with the sweet, sweet turd, but I'm going to miss Ferris and the turd like bananas.

I have a solo exhibit in three weeks, which I have barely started to prepare for. No joke, kids. I just barely starting printing the images and have not even started the framing process. Please, oh, please, cross your fingers that the gallery curator doesn't read this blog. There just isn't enough time and energy to get it all done.

Everything is in flux...constant flux. There are few things in my life, great and small, that aren't in the midst of major change....everything around me along with the beautiful baby inside me.

I imagine posting over the next few days is going to be rather light, so I thought I'd leave you with some gorgeous shots of my family's visit last week. My younger bro's family and my parents spent a few days here during the most beautiful time of the year in Maine. The apple-picking and subsequent crisp-making was out of this world.

Get the flash player here: http://www.adobe.com/flashplayer

Friday
Aug212009

From here, to Cape Town, and back again

I few nights ago, Ferris, our buddy, and I were enjoying a lovely sidewalk dinner at Ribolita's when the topic of health care reform entered the conversation. Serious Debby Downer. I listened to everyone give their take on things and realized I had already made my take very clear and very well documented. What I had neglected to do, however, is explain why I feel the way I do. Context always sheds light.

Ferris asked us why Americans find ourselves in such a crushing depression (economically and emotionally). We've been in rough spots before, but most people will admit that this recession 'feels' much more crushing than previous tough times. It's a very complicated question with all kinds of potential answers, but I would argue that the truth of the matter (from my point of view, obviously) is very simple.

Before I jump up on my soap box, I should state that I come to this conclusion based on my work as a health care social worker. Social work, in my practice, has absolutely nothing to do with psycho-analysis or bleeding heart liberalism. I don't feel like I owe anyone anything because I am privileged and others are not. I believe strongly in the healing art of relationships. I believe in empowerment through trust and commitment. I come to the table with everything I have and expect my patients to do the same.

From that perspective, I would argue that most of the problems we face as a nation come from the theory of seeing ourselves as individuals instead of seeing ourselves as part of a collective. Let me explain.

Four years ago, I spent some time in South Africa. I did plenty of playing, but the reason for my visit was to learn from South African social workers and HIV counselors. I visited sprawling townships on the outskirts of Cape Town where people, literally, had nothing. I spent an afternoon at a make-shift women's health clinic which was funded by The Gate's Foundation. It was held in two broken, sweltering, train cars near the local community health center. Women were there to get exams and HIV testing, some for the first time. There wasn't much to do with the counselors, so I jumped in the waiting room trailer to hang with some of the ladies. There were 11 women aged 18-40, some with babies strapped to their backs waiting the entire day to be seen. These women had nothing, and I can't stress that enough. Their husbands were often absent, they endured a scarcity of food and clean water, and many had several other mouths to feed. It was as dire a situation as I have ever seen.

One would think these women would be crushed by their lot, but there was an energy in the room that superseded their troubles. After talking with them for a bit, I learned that these women considered themselves to be part of a collective, they were in it together, they had a strong sense of community...they were sisters. Instead of seeing themselves as needing to carry the burden on one set of shoulders, they understood that there was an entire community of women prepared to help shoulder that burden. When you understand...I mean, truly understand that you're not alone, their are no troubles too great to survive.

I left that broken trailer unable to speak. There I was, a healthy, privileged, American girl realizing that I was the one with nothing. These women, these beautifully lucky women, had everything.

This is the foundation from which I approach health care in our country. I believe, strongly, that we are all connected. If one of us is sick and vulnerable, all of us are sick and vulnerable. We are only as strong as our weakest partner. I am a proponent of a single payer system, but I also avidly support a public option to compete with private insurances. I have no desire to strip anyone of their individual liberties, but I also believe that one can only enjoy their liberties if everyone is allowed the same right. When you are born into a situation where you have nothing and you feel as though you are neglected and overlooked by the elite, there are no individual liberties to be found there. You are alone, which is the worst feeling in the world.

We need change, we need progress, we need to understand that we are all in this together.

We need to shoulder this burden as a collective.

p.s. The majority of this post was sent to my Senators, Olympia Snowe and Susan Collins. Crossing fingers.

Thursday
Apr232009

At exactly 8:56am

Eva is at school, dressed in yellow from head to toe. There's a parade today, and each student is wearing their classroom colors. It just so happens that yellow is one of Eva's very best colors. You know, so she'll be workin' it as they parade down Stevens Ave.

I'm bummed beyond words that I won't be able to see the parade...stupid working mother gig. Ferris feels the same way...stupid working father gig. Actually, I'm just about to get into my car to drive two hours north to the Samoset Resort in Camden to give a lecture to a bunch of overworked and underpaid social workers. As comfortable as I am with the material (social determinants of health), I don't enjoy lecturing. I take that back. I really enjoy teaching, but I really hate the big red blotches I get on my neck during the first 8 minutes of the lecture. It's like my inside insecurities feel compelled to betray my nervousness no matter how calm I appear on the outside. Bastards. I'm wearing a scarf.

So instead of going over my notes like a responsible professional, I've been editing some photos from a trip we took to the playground with Eva's BFF Alexis last month. It makes me feel better.

Friday
Mar272009

They call it stream of consciousness

I need to beg your forgiveness for today's post because I'm predicting it's going to make very little sense. Most of the time, I try to be organized and thoughtful about what I write, but today I'm going to allow myself to verbally purge. Sometimes I'll be in a session with someone who is having trouble articulating what they're really trying to say. I often tell them to just let it all out...eventually we'll get to the heart of the matter...eventually we'll get there.

Please, just stick with me until I get there.

I've been very open about the fact that I'm trying to get pregnant. The decision to try the first time was organic. It came from a primal place. It took us almost a year to conceive Eva, and each month leading up to her conception I went through the process of hope, togetherness, love, and ultimately despair. I never really liked being pregnant, but I loved and honored the process of growing a child. I was very 'inside' myself...I took care of myself, I felt every great and small change, and I'm very happy to say that I was present during the entire experience.

This time feels very different for a number of reasons.

Last month when I swallowed the first pre-natal vitamin, it felt like I was re-swallowing my own vomit. It had nothing to do with the pill but rather the notion that I was about to 'do this whole thing all over again'. Like PTSD...flashbacks of the months of puking, the back pain, being totally out of control of my body, and then the whole dealing with the weight gain once the baby arrives. I envy women who enjoy that process because it was not easy for me.

Even as I acknowledge those feelings, I start to think about Eva and I have to keep my heart from jumping out of my chest. It's true...every cliche, every time a mother says 'it's so worth it' because it IS worth every struggle, every pain, every minute of despair. And I think about who will be the next to join our family. What little miracle, what sweet gift, what beautiful little person is going to turn our lives into even greater chaos. I CANNOT wait to smother that child with more love and devotion than this world has ever seen. It makes me crazy to think about how much I already adore a person who does not yet exist except for in my heart.

Then my head starts to wonder back to my present circumstances...the circumstances of being a working mother who still has a very strong desire to be at home with her children. I was surprised by that desire when Eva arrived. Eight months later, I was equally surprised by my desire to cultivate the 'professional' opportunities that happened to fall in my lap. I was confident, calm, and at peace that I would walk away from this job if it ever became unbalanced. We go day to day, and I consider myself enormously blessed that we've been able to make it work. My jobs, social worker and photographer, have been realizations of lifelong dreams.

So the idea of becoming pregnant again has sparked a slew of conflicting emotions about my future. Some days, I feel very equipped to handle things day-by-day. Whatever happens, happens. Most days, especially recently, I've been totally freaking out about the fact that I CANNOT DO IT ALL. I CANNOT DO IT ALL AND I'M PISSED AS HELL ABOUT THE FACT THAT I HAVE TO MAKE A CHOICE. Although, I feel like I want to make a choice...maybe a few choices...so I can be the mother I want to be.

I'm desperate for another baby, and with that desperation comes a strong desire to be present for that pregnancy. More importantly, I want to be present for that baby. I'm also desperate to continue to cultivate the work that I've grown so proud of. Being a social worker and a photographer has become a very strong part of who I am and how I define myself.

I'm frustrated because I could be giving so much more to photography and writing. I know I could develop a very successful business. I'm frustrated because I could be giving more to social work. I could get a PhD, write, and teach.

Once upon a time, I was very happy and content with the mixture of professional and personal ventures in my life. The balance was comforting and peaceful. Now, I feel like I'm on the cusp of three totally awesome adventures, each that would require more of me than I am currently able to give.

I need a hug.