Essentials for Social Work with Adolescents

 

ASSUMING A STANCE OF UNCERTAINTY: ESSENTIALS FOR
SOCIAL WORK WITH ADOLESCENTS*

Andrew Malekoff**

Assuming a Stance of Uncertainty

Beyond credentials and labels

Having worked with countless teenagers for over thirty years, I discovered early on that whatever world I occupied outside of their presence with my professional reputation and credentials, these meant little to the kids I worked with or, for that matter, to my own kids. A few years ago I found something that one of my sons wrote about me in school. The heading on the page was, “My Dad.” Naturally I read on with great anticipation and a swelling sense of self-importance. Underneath the title he wrote, “My dad is 6’1”, bald, wears glasses, and busts my chops. He likes dogs. My dad has brown eyes and brown hair, at least what’s left of it. He’s a social worker.” The kids I work with, and live with, invariably draw their conclusions about me as they get to know me. In turn, I draw my conclusions about them as I get to know them, despite what might be called their credentials, that is - the often-negative labels and diagnoses assigned to them.

One young person, who was living in an extended care residential setting, described her experience as a labeled person through poetry. She wrote, in part,
What happened to my opinions and viewpoints?
Why do they assess me this way?
What happened to my freedom I must say?
Why do they label me this way?
Why do they label me –?
When I am only being me?
(Chrissie Elms Bennet in Dalrymple and Burke, 1995)

Teenagers demand to be taken as whole people

It is essential to understand that teenagers demand to be taken as whole people. Social workers may find it especially difficult to work with teenagers if they begin by taking a position of certainty, relying on scientifically sanctioned knowledge as the supreme truth. One cannot gain access to what another person is experiencing without also reaching for other legitimate sources of knowledge, not the least of which is the reality expressed through the narrative voice of the young person him- or herself. This requires that we “assume a stance of uncertainty” (Pozatek, 1994), a commitment to developing relationships with teenagers that transcend the traditional model of practitioner as expert and client as dummy.

“When your tongue is silent, only then can you hear”

My colleague Camille Roman wrote about growing up in an economically deprived and chaotic family and how desperately she struggled as a teenager to be heard, and how no one was ever listening. During one particularly troubling and heated exchange at a holiday gathering Camille, whose family is from Puerto Rico, remembered, “…my face apparently betrayed my fear and confusion to an elderly aunt who was secretly thought to be a witch. Tia Mercedes turned to me with her soft face and wise eyes and whispered, ‘when your tongue is silent only then can you hear.’”

Camille said, “My Tia was telling me that…something else was going on here…and if I didn’t get caught up in the noise then maybe I could understand and make sense of the chaos and it would be less frightening and I would not feel so powerless.” And so this powerful bit of homespun advice became a life lesson for her and one that she credits with her success as a social worker.

As a long time group worker I understand this very well. Often it is the noisy and always on the move kids’ group that has more order to it, a method to the madness if you will, than the rational, tightly controlled and superficially polite staff meeting of adults that is rife with underlying disorder in the form of power struggles and hidden agendas seething just beneath the surface. As we professionally enter the group setting assuming a stance of uncertainty enables us to see more clearly the logic of the seemingly irrational and frenetic teenage group; as against the often illogic of the seemingly rationale, cool, calm, and collected grown up group. Remember Tia Mercedes? “When your tongue is silent only then can you hear.”

Psychologist Jim Garbarino (2004) advises, “We need practitioners who think and look deeply before proceeding. A lack of depth is a dangerous underpinning for practice.” Assuming a stance of uncertainty is one way of saying how important it is for us to be open and reflective, to listen intently to the kids we see and to watch for telltale patterns as the dynamics of each situation unfold. Only then can we think more deeply and outside the box.

By embracing our ignorance and uncertainty and fallibility without shame, the optical delusions that confront us on a daily basis come more clearly into focus. One of these delusions is the self-serving propaganda about life in the suburbs.

Myths about the suburbs

There is a long held perception about life in the suburbs that belies the reality, where images of affluence and self-sufficiency still prevail. One result is the insulation of those who live in the suburbs from those on the outside, including legislators, government officials and philanthropists who turn down proposals from suburban agencies because they say they have “inner city” priorities. Many of the young people in the suburbs are struggling with the same problems as their inner-city counterparts. But because of faulty perception of their lives they have become an invisible generation to many scholars and funding sources. The issue should not be city-suburb, either-or. We need to hold hands and stand together to erase mythical boundaries and affirm the value of all young people.

My poem invizible kidz on the edge of 5 boroughz, from which the title of today’s conference is based, contains many stories about life on Long Island. The stories begin with nationally publicized events, some of which you will recall. They are: the kidnapping of a child in an amusement center in the early 80’s, a young adult’s membership in a cult and participation in mass suicide in the 90’s, mass murder on the Long Island Railroad, the explosion of flight 800 passenger jet over the ocean in eastern Long Island, the 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center with its many suburban victims, and the sexual abuse/hazing incident on a local high school football team. The less publicized stories that follow in the poem are based on actual encounters I have had with young people over the past 30 years. The poem ends with an imaginary plea to the late poet Allen Ginsburg.

invizible kidz on the edge of 5 boroughz

remember me?
the paperz sed some-one grabbed me from
the space-plex.
turnz out
they wuz
wrong.
it wuz
uncle john
all along.

he built an
u
n
d
e
r
ground
room for me
with re-moat control
cable tv.

remember me?
i split quite a few
yearz ago.
moved away
far away
in search of light.
and
hitched a ride
on
the good ship marshal applewhite.

remember me?
i lived for trainz
lionel, h-o, longislandrailroad.
i uzed to
watch the trainz pull out of the garden at sun-up
when
dad
headed out.
that iz,
until
that colin-guy blast'd a hole through my heart.


remember me?
one summer night
i wuz scoping
the starz
i spotted a great ball of fire.
it wuzn't hale-bopp.
it wuzn't marz.

a little while later
the diverz came
to search for lost flowerz
in the driving rain.

remember me?
i used to be scared of
lions and tigers and bears, oh my, and
lions and tigers and bears,
lions and tigers and bears,
but
broomsticks and pine cones and golf balls, oh my

remember me?
I used to daydream
by the bay
watching the skyline
every day.
september eleventh
two-thousand-and-one
beautiful blue sky
bright orange sun
london bridge is
falling down, falling down, falling down
london bridge is
falling down
where’z my daddy?

what about the rest of us?
do you remember the rest of us?
what about me?
no, you don't know us.
you see we're not celebre-teez.
we live on the edge of 5 boroughz too,
but we don't rhyme.

roll call

i have a guidance counselor who called me a slut.
i poured insecticide into my dad'z cola.
i stabbed a kid nine timez.
i torched a house.
i had an abortion.
i hung my cat.
i have 2 kidz.
i inject anabolic steroidz into my body to fill in the empty space that surroundz me.
i am mez-merized by a box that brightenz my room and cloudz my vizion.
i throw up often yet the emptiness inside of me continuez to expand.
i live in a house with a revolving door welcoming men who touch me.
i do finger-painting in the middle school bathroom with natural oilz.
i cannot read but i can control traffic signalz with my brain.
i shave my head and bare my teeth but never to smile.
i can lower my blood pressure by slicing my armz.
i had an older brother until he wuz beaten to death.
i have a boyfriend who punches me whenever i look the other way.
i can feel strange men crawling inside of my body and it feelz like i am on fire.
i drank a bottle of dry gas while driving on empty one night.
i don't have a regular job so i peddle ecstasy.
i wuz raped but no one will believe it wuz him.
i think my mother iz dying of a bad cough.
i don't smoke but the town incinerator duz.
i am thirsty but the ground water iz contaminated.
i went with my dad to see a prostitute so he could sleep better at nite.
i failed to avert a passing stranger'z gaze and so he shot me twice, here and here.
i don't use condomz because i'm tired of feeling nothing.
i sometimez sleep in the cemetery.
i can't seem to get to sleep.
i take naps in school.
i am alwayz tired.
i will be 15

soon.

y'know,
i remember hearing
about this far out guy named allen
who lived in a village on the other side of the edge.
he wrote a letter to america. in
his letter he said that he
wuz going to put hiz
queer shoulder
to the wheel.

now that's a pretty cool thing
to say. i wish allen were here
so i could talk to him. here'z
what i'd say:
listen allen,
we live inside of a very
complex machine out
here on the edge.
despite what
the smart
people
on the
other
side
think,
we have
no access.
what i mean
to say,
allen,
iz that
we can't
get near
to the
wheel.
we
can't
even
find
it.

it's the darned-est thing.

so,
i've been
thinking.
maybe u could slide
over a bit
allen.

and then

we can
touch
shoulderz
and
push
together.

okay?

Framing the suburbs as affluent and self-sufficient makes it easier for those who have the power of the purse to turn their backs on us. Tuning in to how things are framed, who does the framing, and what the framing means is an important assessment tool for social workers working with teenagers. It is as important as making a sound DSM diagnosis or doing an inventory of kids’ strengths and assets. If you remember nothing else about my presentation, I ask you to remember that context counts. Context counts.

The more clearly we see the frame, understand the context, the more likely we are to uncover the so-called truths that are imposed on us. We need, as Indian essayist Arundhati Roy (2004) so eloquently says, “to see the gap between what we know and what we are told, between what is concealed and what is revealed, and between the ‘real world’ and the virtual world” (p. 96). One must “look,” as social work scholars Ruth Middleman and Gale Goldberg advise, “with planned emptiness.” That is, “to cultivate an area of one’s mind that is reserved for the unknown” (Middleman & Wood, 1995).

More myths: Mental health, discretionary funding, and managed care

Office of Mental Health or Office of Mental Illness?
An example of faulty framing is what in New York State is referred to as the Office of Mental Health. If you work in the mental health system, as I do, and your focus is kids and you see how services are funded and regulated you come to realize that Office of Mental Health is misnamed and that Office of Mental Illness is more apt (Malekoff, 2000). Regulations that are written and funding formulas that are created for adults with serious emotional disturbances don’t necessarily work for kids, certainly not for all of them. Yet this is the way it works in New York State and I imagine elsewhere as well.

Discretionary services or essential human services?
Another example is the term discretionary services that legislators and government officials use to describe many youth-oriented services – be they youth development, mental health or chemical dependency programs, for instance (Malekoff, 2003). The term discretionary suggests services that are a luxury, therefore not needed. A more accurate description is “essential human services.” Investing in human services helps to preserve the family, preventing children and youth from ending up in costly out-of-home placements. Next time and every time you hear the term discretionary services to describe what you do on Long Island, respond by saying, “Are you referring to essential human services?” Understanding context enables us to be good and well informed advocates. For social workers that work with teens advocacy is not a choice, it is a duty.

Managed care or managed cost?
Finally, managed care is yet another example of a term that needs some really serious re-framing. The truth is that these companies that do the dirty work for insurance agencies are not interested in care management. They are interested in cost management. Yet they call it managed care and not managed cost. I call it “mangled care,” the subject of poem devoted to the impact of managed care on kids that I wrote in the early 1990’s. I call this poem “Beware of Mangled Care: DSM R US.”

Beware of Mangled Care: DSM R US

third party hats and favors
come in many shapes and flavors;

kids like us abhor the ride
when folks like you get to decide;

that we can visit ten times only
to get beyond the state of lonely;

measurable outcomes to help us cope
and claim that they can quantify hope;

it's not so bad to get no vote
and as you say: we'd miss the boat;

but tell me why we get a label
when you all know it's just a fable;

a story spun by a lonely few
limited by an obstructed view;

powered by a system blind,
a wing-tipped cabal of a single mind;

the tide comes in, the tide goes out,
this too shall pass without a doubt;

but

not

without

a

fight.

Now that I have saturated you with the virtues of uncertainty and ignorance; the importance of context; the necessity of looking with planned emptiness; the myth of the self-sufficient suburbs; the Office of Mental Illness; the folly of the term discretionary funding; and third part hats and favors it’s time to move on.

More Essentials for Social Work with Teenagers

Maintaining a sense of humor

I mentioned at the beginning of my talk that kids are not impressed with my reputation and credentials. This thought leads to two related essential aspects of good social work with adolescents: maintaining a sense of humor and willingness to check your ego outside the door. By a sense of humor I don’t mean that you must have comedic skills, but that you develop the ability to see the humor or absurdity in a situation. Although ours is a serious business, it doesn’t mean that we have to approach it with deadly seriousness. Someone once quipped that seriousness is the root of all mental illness.

Checking your ego at the door
Regarding checking your ego at the door, author Carlos Castaneda said it best in his book A Separate Reality when he referred to losing one’s self-importance. He wrote, “feeling important makes one feel heavy, clumsy and vain. To be a (person) of knowledge one needs to be light and fluid.”

To work with teenagers one needs to be light and fluid and flexible and grounded all at once in order to effectively adjust to the changing tides of equilibrium and disequilibrium and the shifting sands of conflict, playfulness, calm, constructive activity, fighting, tension regulation, attending to task, and affectionate feelings. Seeing the humor in a situation and losing one’s self-importance help. Remember, it’s not your credentials that impress kids. Or at least mine don’t. The following encounters illustrate how different teenagers I have worked with questioned my intelligence, my charisma, and my sexuality.

On intelligence
In a meeting with a frequently out of control and violent fourteen year old boy Greg, he was trying to explain why, as he put it, he “acts crazy.” He said, “I’m not really crazy, I just act crazy so that people will think I’m crazy.” When I pressed the issue and asked him why he wanted people to think that about him, he rolled his eyes, waved his hand at me dismissively and said, “You’re out of here Andy. This is way over your head.” I guess Greg wasn’t too impressed.

On charisma
In the last of a series of debriefing sessions in the aftermath of a dance that turned violent, several members of predominantly African-American group known as the Youth of Culture Drug Free Club who organized the dance asked, “Why do we have to keep talking about this?” I responded with a long and what I thought to be eloquent response that drew a long silence that I took to be a sign that they were soaking up my eloquence. Sitting to the left of me was sixteen-year old Berulia, a natural leader. She turned to me and smiled her beautiful smile. She said, “Andy, why is that whenever you speak everyone falls asleep?” I guess Berulia wasn’t too impressed either.

On sexuality
Finally, and mercifully, in a discussion about sex, a group of teenaged boys refused to believe me when I assured them that pulling out is not the safest method of birth control and that it is risky. In response they fired questions at me about my sex life. Before I could respond, one boy concluded, “Andy probably has the sex life of a rock.” Laughing and high fives followed this. When I asked if they really wanted to have the information about my sex life, another replied, “I don’t even want to think about you having sex,” to which they all unanimously agreed. And then one of them tried feebly to come to my defense by saying, “Andy must have sex, I think he has two kids.” And then without missing a beat another turned to me and said, “Andy, what happened, did the condom break twice?” You can’t make this stuff up.

Everything I needed to know about social work with adolescents….

I was fortunate to first learn about social work with teenagers as a young volunteer (Malekoff, 2001). You know the book, Everything I Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten? Well, VISTA, Volunteers in Service to America, was my social work kindergarten. I had no choice but to assume a stance of uncertainty since I didn’t know anything. At least I felt that way.

I formed my first teenage group when I was a 22-year-old VISTA volunteer living in Grand Island, Nebraska. The community that I called home for nearly three years was largely Mexican-American. None of the roads in that part of town were paved. When I first arrived I roomed with a local family. A short time later I rented a tiny two-bedroom house on the edge of a cornfield. The rent was one hundred dollars a month. A few blocks from my house pig and cattle auctions were held on Mondays and Tuesdays. Living in Nebraska was nothing like my early years growing up in Newark, New Jersey where the landscape was concrete and telephone poles and the closest thing to a cornfield was the corner bakery.

The group I formed in the spring of 1974 included six kids. There were three boys and three girls who ranged in age from 13 to 18. All were first generation Mexican-Americans. They all knew each other well, living in this close-knit place where everybody seemed to know everybody. After some time the group became known as Los Seis, the six.

In forming the group I met an 18- year old young woman Mariel, who was soon to become the senior group member. I found out through the grapevine that she had been through drug rehab more than once. I was advised by someone to go to Mariel's home and meet her parents who were described as very conservative. I was warned that there was no way I'd get anywhere with Mariel without her parents' consent.

I would eventually seek the consent of all of the kids’ parents, including Hector’s dad who, at the time, was just released from the state penitentiary after serving time for manslaughter. Although my meetings with Mariel’s mom and dad took place inside their modest home, I first met Hector’s dad in a local bar, then in the Latin Club, the local cultural center and intergenerational gathering place, and finally at his kitchen table. Reaching out to each of the parents, and in some cases older siblings was a different story for each family.

These were wonderful lessons. I learned never to cut parents or other relevant people in kids’ lives out the out of the picture. It made sense to me that the parents of these kids would need to trust the gringo stranger who had suddenly appeared in town. Yet, over the years I have met countless colleagues who perceive anxious parents as a thorn in their professional side and use the cloak of confidentiality to factor them out of the helping equation.

Anxious and angry parents are not our enemies and we must collaborate with them and form alliances with them if we are to be successful with their children. Many parents suffer from profound isolation and self-doubt. We must learn to embrace their frustration and anxiety rather than become defensive and rejecting. They get enough of that as it is.

As Los Seis took shape I worried that I didn't know anything about Mexican culture. I decided that the dance floor at the Latin club was a good place to start. The most spirited dances were communal, young and old circling the floor as a large group, accenting the need to stay connected in the present by preserving the past. I also learned that the alcohol flowed freely in this little corner of town.

If I could learn Mexican dance at the Latin club, I figured that there had to be others in town that could teach me and the group other things we needed to know. I thought that if I could find such people and get to know them that I could convince them to help me, help us.

I didn't know anything about alcoholism either. So I found out about an alcoholism program across the street from the cattle auction. I got to know Jim, the director of the center. We spent some time together and he provided me with literature on the subject. Jim told me that he was in recovery and invited me to an open AA meeting. I didn’t know what “recovery” meant, so he taught me. He agreed to help in any way he could. I also met an elementary school teacher who lived in the community. Dolores was a dynamic woman with a great smile, unlimited knowledge about her heritage, boundless energy and a burning desire to help the young people in the community. She was dying to help out. I told her about the group and she agreed to teach dance and sprinkle in some history lessons along the way.

Being partners with parents and giving up control

Soon I met others who, as they learned about the teenage group wanted to pitch in too. There were women who offered to sew traditional dresses for the girls to dance in, men who loaned their cherished sombreros to the boys, people in recovery willing to talk about addiction and the road to sobriety, and so on. Soon the group had a small army of helpers. And all I had to do was ask. And so I learned two important lessons, two more essentials for working with teenagers: the importance of forming partnerships with parents and relevant other people in teens’ lives and understanding that I didn’t have to control everything. When I realized that I could depend on others, others being the kids themselves and the grown ups who had a stake in them, it took a lot of pressure off me. It meant that I didn't have to know everything; I didn’t have to be the central helping person. And, if I didn’t have to know everything then I could ask questions. I could afford to be uncertain and ignorant, so long as I was willing to trust others and have faith in what they might have to offer. That is what true empowerment is all about. I later discovered that this was a very unpopular way to think among colleagues who revere a one-to-one medical model, where professional is knowledgeable decision maker; client is passive recipient, pathology rules, and DSM is the holy bible.

Helping teenagers to make waves

Not having to control everything is key to the next essential facet I learned about good social work with adolescents: maintaining a dual focus by tuning not only to the near things of individual need but also to the far things of social change or what I like to call the importance of helping teenagers to make waves. Our young people need to see the potential of changing not only oneself but also one's surroundings, so that they may become active participants in community affairs, so that they might make a difference, might change the world one day where we have failed to. It is essential that we help teenagers to make waves. We can help young people make big-turbulent-crashing waves, small-gentle- soothing waves, and in-between sized waves.

In time Los Seis became best know as a dance group that traveled throughout the State spreading a message of cultural pride and drug and alcohol abuse prevention. In a sense they became advocates, extending the bonds of belonging beyond the group itself. A highlight was their first public appearance before a gathering of the local community. One of the poems chosen for the event is an epic of the Mexican-American people, the most famous poem of the Chicano movement in America. It's called "I am Joaquin" or "Yo soy Joaquin", written by Rodolfo “Corky” Gonzales, long involved in the civil and human rights movement of the Mexican-American people. The book length poem give voice to what many in the community felt.

As the lights were turned down in the community center, the group members took turns reading by candlelight as a hundred of their family and friends, young and old looked on and listened.
I am Joaquin,
Lost in a world of confusion,
caught up in the whirl of a
gringo society,
confused by the rules,
scorned by attitudes,
suppressed by manipulation,
and destroyed by modern society.
My fathers
have lost the economic battle
and won
the struggle of cultural survival... (p. 6)
La Raza!
Mejicano!
Espanol!
Latino!
Hispano!
Chicano!
or whatever I call myself,
I look the same
I feel the same
I cry
and
sing the same
I am the masses of my people and
I refuse to be absorbed.
I am Joaquin.
The odds are great
but my spirit is strong,
my faith unbreakable,
my blood is pure.
I am Aztec prince and Christian Christ.
I shall endure!
I will endure! (pp. 98-99)

Incidentally, just before the event Hector’s dad (remember the ex-convict?) gave Hector his cherished sombrero. After the performance Hector approached me, with his eyes welling up, and said, “Andy, my dad told me he was proud of me. He never told me that before.”

Los Seis made waves, small but powerful waves in their home community where they instilled a sense of spirit and cultural pride and even bigger waves as they spread their message in performances across the state. We need to help teenagers to make waves.

Fighting world-wide poverty
A New York City group tried to make even bigger waves in a step towards eradicating world-wide poverty through the “Nike give-back campaign,” a social action effort by youngsters eager to learn more about the sneaker manufacturer’s exploitation of workers in Asia and high cost of sneakers in the US (Wohl, 2000). Dozens of youngsters dumped their old Nikes at a popular store to protest what they described as the company’s dual exploitation of the poor by not paying a living wage to workers in Indonesia, who earned about $3.00 a day and then gouging urban trend-setting teenagers up to $150 dollars for their shoes. Who knows, maybe one of these young people will be inspired in later life to continue the fight for economic justice and against corporate globalization and greed.

Shaving their heads in solidarity with a sick buddy
Another group of 13-year old boys made gentle soothing waves by shaving their heads in solidarity with a buddy getting chemotherapy so he wouldn’t feel alone or out of place. One of the stricken boys’ buddies was quoted as saying, “The last thing Ian would want is not to fit in, to be made fun of, so we just wanted to make him feel better and not left out.” Who knows, maybe one of these young people will be moved in later life to pass on the lesson of compassion as a teacher or coach or counselor.

Faggot
And then there was a group of older adolescents who made more turbulent waves, by constructing life size lockers that they sprayed with anti-gay graffiti in an effort to advocate against homophobia in local high schools. As one of them said, “Every day gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender teens are ‘gay bashed’ in school and have nowhere to turn. Our art group created model lockers to represent the homophobia that exists in schools.” Ultimately the lockers, realistic and shocking, became a traveling exhibit used to encourage the development of GSA’s, gay-straight alliances, in schools. Who knows, maybe one of these young people will, in later life, seek public office and become a powerful voice for the real meaning of moral values.

Gang or street organization?
Finally, regarding gangs on Long Island, there are well-known scholars and practitioners who refer to gangs as street organizations and who take a somewhat unconventional approach. They advocate for outreach workers to consider that there are gangs and gang members, maybe not all but some, that have an investment in the positive development of the community. They implore street workers and others concerned with gangs to discover and connect with that part of the gang that is closer to the center of community life than the part that exists at the edges (Malekoff, 1999a). Who knows, maybe there is a gang member out there who is just waiting for an opportunity to become a part of the solution and maybe not in later life. Maybe now.

As I talk about making waves I am sensitive to the fact that there might be some in the audience who might be thinking, “Oh that making waves stuff is fine for those kids he talks about but what about the kids I’m working with who are much more troubled. If I’m correct that even one of you is thinking that I ask you to consider the sentiments of internationally renowned trauma expert Bessel van der Kolk who said, regarding his work with trauma survivors, “…talking about the trauma is rarely if ever enough; trauma survivors need to take some action that symbolizes triumph over helplessness and despair. This may take the form of writing a book (or a poem), taking political action, helping other victims, or any of the myriad of creative solution that human beings can find to defy even the most desperate plight” (van der Kolk, et al, 1996).

And then there is the group boys identified with serious emotional disturbances who fought for better bathroom conditions in their alternative high school (Malekoff, 1999). As one of them said, “Do you think they have any idea how humiliating it is to go to the bathroom with no doors on the stalls?” They went on to make a list of demands that they first rehearsed and then presented to the principal:
Soap – pink not yellow
Toilet paper 3-ply
Doors with locks on the stalls
Only boys in boys’ bathroom
No faculty- especially teachers
Brighter lights
Toilet cleaner – 2000 flushes
Functioning sinks
Roach spray
Roach traps
Softer paper towels

Making waves suggests that teenagers have something to offer and have an interest in changing the world, whether it is the world with a big “W,” as in fighting poverty and corporate greed; or the world with a small “w,” as in showing solidarity with a friend who has cancer or writing a poem about one’s journey through a traumatic experience like 9/11 or fighting for better bathroom conditions. To help teenagers to do this and to work effectively with them it is essential for social workers to have an appreciation for paradox and ability to differentiate between the words and music.

If you know teenagers you know that they often reflect two sides of the same coin. They can be selfish and altruistic; vain yet humble; and rebellious yet loyal. They can appear remarkably apathetic, yet their passion is unmatched when the cause is right. Their music and words don’t always seem to fit together as in the contradictory messages that we are all familiar with like, “take care of me and leave me alone,” “hold me and don’t touch me,” “stop me and get out of my way,” “understand me and don’t question me.”

I recall asking a 13-year old, several months after 9/11 if he thought about the disaster anymore. He said, “No,” and then I discovered a poem he had just written that told a different story. The poem, entitled “Fate or Fantasy” provided the music behind his contention that he no longer thought about it.

Fate or Fantasy
6:00 am
alarm goes off
wake up
do the usual
shower, brush teeth, drink coffee
get on the train
arrive at Penn Station
Take subway downtown to chambers street
Look at watch
Late
its 8:30
Try to get on every elevator
All used
Wait
5 minutes go by
finally get on elevator
100th floor
it’s 8:35
in office
turn on computer
8:37
put head on desk
Building shakes
thought I was asleep
Immediately look out window
See a man in mid air
Tumbling
Screaming profanities
People crying
People screaming in shock
Rushing to get to stairs and elevator
Hear cry of children
Take another glance out window
More smoke and debris
People lying on ground
Fire fighters and police officers every where
Finally get a feeling
We’ve been hit
A jet has hit the World Trade Center
Don’t have much time
So I jump
Down
And down
100 flights
Look in the windows
Crying faces
People panicking
As I fall and fall it seems like an eternity
Above me falling is my brother
He calls to me
What are you doing here
You must realize
Is this fantasy or your true fate
O my god
Sweating
I’m late for work
its 9 o’clock
Turn on my television
ABC
Lying in bed
Eyes closed
I hear “This just in…the North tower has been hit by a jet
Plane”
Open my eyes and realize
Fate or Fantasy….
These words now haunt me until I start to recover
Years have gone by
Therapy isn’t working
I can’t take it any more
I jump off of the empire state building
While dropping
I hear
Fate or fantasy…you choose
once again my worst fear has not yet ended
But it has just begun.

- Darren Malekoff, 2002

Getting familiar with fallibility

Finally, to work well with teenagers, it is essential that you get familiar with your sense of fallibility in order, as the expression goes, to keep it real. I feel that it is my duty to advise you that although we live in the era of evidence-based models, there are no perfect solutions.

By all means get to know what works and learn all you can about best practices. Use the scientifically sanctioned and well-marketed models of practice and their manuals and curricula to guide you, but never to drive you. Think curriculum-guided, not curriculum-driven. Never forget that there are critical variables always missing from the printed how-to manuals and from the presentations of the gurus who sell them. Never factor out who you are, who the young person sitting before you is, and what the situational surround says about the moment in time. Remember - context counts. Learn from the models and learn from yourself and learn from the inside-out as well as the outside-in so that you can be free to innovate, improvise, and be co-creators with the teenagers with whom you work. Don’t forget that we must never treat kids as objects to be fixed. They demand to be taken as whole people. It is our duty to do so.

Alfred Whitehead (1967). said, “Once you understand all about the sun and all about the atmosphere and all about the radiation of the earth you may still miss the radiance of the sunset.” We cannot afford to miss the radiance in the kids with whom we work, nor the radiance in ourselves.

Just as there are no perfect solutions, there are no perfect social workers working with teenagers. Teenagers bring out our flaws and imperfections and evoke their own often well-concealed insecurities, fears and anxieties in us. That’s their job. If you want to make a career of working with teenagers, don’t expect the work to look or to be perfect or polite. My advice to you is not to expect to be perfect and don’t sweat it if you sometimes look and feel awkward and amateurish. It is their job to make us feel that way. Their job is to scrutinize, question, and challenge the adult world that we represent, to discover ways in which we screwed it up so that their generation may have an opportunity to try and get it right. Our job is to let them challenge us and to love them just the same. Our job is not to let the uncomfortable feelings that they evoke in us cause us to abandon them as they may have been abandoned before. Remember the part about putting your ego out the door?

Conclusion

Social work with teenagers is a tricky business and an important calling. I hope that you will hang in there for the long haul and not bail out as too many an adult already has. There are too many kids who need people like us. In closing I leave you with something that has helped me along the way and that I hope might help you. Please don’t forget, as you experience the highs and lows of this difficult and inspiring work that, “Perfection is not lovable, it is the clumsiness of a fault that makes a person lovable” (Joseph Campbell in Keen, 1970).

References:*

Dalrymple, J., and Burke, B. (1995). Anti-oppressive practice: Social care and the law. Buckingham, England: Open University Press.

Garbarino, J. (2004, April). Workshop on adolescents. Roslyn Heights, NY: North Shore Child and Family Guidance Center.

Gonzales, R. (1967). I am Joaquin. New York: Bantam, 98-99.

Keen, S. (1970). Man and myth: A conversation with Joseph Campbell. Voices and Visions, New York: Harper and Row, 67-86.

Malekoff, A. (1994). Beware of mangled care: DSM R US (Poetry). Social Work with Groups Newsletter, 9(2, July), 15 AND in Child Welfare League of America Residential Care News, February, 2005, 7.

Malekoff, A. (1994). A guideline for group work with adolescents, Social Work with Groups, 17(1/2), 5–19.

Malekoff, A. (1999a). Book review of adolescent gangs: Old issues, new approaches (Ed. Curtis Branch), Social Work with Groups, 22:2/3, 196-198.

Malekoff, A. (1999b). Pink soap and stall doors. Families in Society. May/June, 219-220.

Malekoff, A. (2000). Bureaucratic barriers to service delivery, Administrative advocacy, and mother goose, Families in Society, 81:3, 304-315.

Malekoff, A. (2001). The power of group work with kids: A practitioner’s reflection on strengths-based practice. Families in Society, 82:3, 243-249.

Malekoff (2002). Invizible kidz on the edge of 5 boroughz (poetry). Journal of Progressive Human Services, 13(2), 69-73 AND in The New Social Worker, Winter 2002, 15.

Malekoff, D. (2002). Fate or fantasy, In Captured Visions. Long Beach, New York: Captured Press, 15-18.

Malekoff, A. (2003, July 28). Services are essential. In, Letters to the Editor. Long Island Newsday, A21.

Malekoff, A. (2004). Group work with adolescents: Principles and practice, second edition, New York: Guilford.

Middleman, R. & Goldberg, G. (1995). Contextual group work: Apprehending the elusive obvious. In Kurland, R. & Salmon, R. (eds.) Group work practice in a troubled society: Problems and opportunities, New York: Haworth, 5-17.

Middleman, R. & Wood, G. (1995). Skills for direct practice in social work. New York: Columbia University Press.

Pozatek, E. (1994). The problem of certainty: Clinical social work in the postmodern era. Social Work, 39(4), 396–404.

Roy, A. (2004). An ordinary person’s guide to empire. Cambridge, MA: South End Press.

van der Kolk, B.A., McFarlane, A., van der Hart, O. (1996). “A general approach to treatment of posttraumatic stress disorder.” In Traumatic Stress (van der Kolk, et al, eds). Guilford Press: NY,

Wohl, B. (2000). The power of group work with youth: Creating activists of the future. Social Work with Groups, 22:4, 3-14.


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