Humility

(just a couple near the end)

I’ve wanted to share this for awhile, not necessarily related to all my other posts of late, but a reminder that we don’t really know what’s going on for folks until we ask them.

I had a client (social work) a good while back, a single mom with one teenage son. We’d worked together for several months to line up some services for him, she did a lot of the work and phone calls, and we (my agency) were ready to close her case. This happened on my last scheduled home visit.

We chatted for a while and then I pulled out some required paperwork, this evidence-based risk assessment we’d begun using. One of the questions was about a history of childhood sexual abuse of the parent(s). Based on my knowledge of the mom’s general history, I had already guessed the answer to that question was yes, but she hadn’t brought it up. During this home visit I asked the question. She hesitated and answered “yes,” and then this entire story spilled out, years of humiliation and abuse at the hands of her brother and a m ale cousin who lived with them. She said she’d told her mother several times, and (for whatever reason) the mother did not intervene.

I’m pretty sure I was the first person (other than her mother) that she’d told this to – I don’t blame her, since her history of telling a grown-up supposedly in charge, hadn’t been too helpful. When you work with people in recovery from substance abuse, you can kind of tell when someone has told the same story before at a lot of meetings or therapy sessions. I did not get this feeling from her – the way she spoke, the way that once she decided to tell it, she could hardly get the words out fast enough.

I will remember this conversation for the rest of my life, I think, I hope. I’ve had both children and adults disclose abuse to me, and I have often been the first person outside of the family they’ve told. But I will always remember sitting in her living room, listening to her as she told this story, her head down, looking at the floor. After she was done, I thanked her for telling me, and for trusting me enough to tell me. I asked a couple of pretty general questions, but for once in my life and career, I didn’t over-talk or over-think it; we wrapped up fairly soon and I left.

I’ve frequently been reminded by both clients and friends, how dissimilar my life has been from theirs, and how fortunate I am.  I often refer to my “idyllic rural childhood,” with an intact and peaceable nuclear family, no crime by strangers, no abuse or neglect by anyone. I grew up believing the world is a safe place and people are good, and the adults who are supposed to take care of children and protect them, do so.

I am pretty good at what I do, and I think a big part of being good is that I try to ask questions about someone’s experience, rather than making a bunch of assumptions. But even given that, the thing I remember most about this home visit is sitting there thinking, “I do not know Jack about Shit about ANYTHING.” You know? Imagining what this woman’s life was like, as a kid and a teenager … humbling, I tell you, humbling.

And yes, it’s unfortunate that childhood abuse and neglect occur across all economic classes, and that plenty of folks survive and go on to have independent, successful lives. I’m glad for them, really, but I once again humbly request that you not paint everyone with so broad a brush.

OBTW, this particular client did have a significant substance abuse history; by the time I’d met her she’d been clean for several years and was still actively supporting her recovery by going to meetings frequently. She was also employed full-time, as some sort of low-level assistant at a law office; she simply didn’t earn a lot of money at it, so her son had Medicaid. But for quite some time there, she was one of Those People who received TANF and Food Stamps, while she was addicted to drugs. Gasp! I know lots of folks could decry this woman as a perfect example of abuse of the system – she is sitting around doing drugs while we taxpayers cover her rent and bills. Perhaps you are correct to say that, but perhaps in addition to being correct you are also a mean jackass. Again, everyone (including me) please be a little more generous in your thoughts and words.