Mary and Frank could easily be on your caseload or mine.
We can get bogged down in paperwork or politics, but lose sight of the individual experiences and perceptions of our clients. Sometimes, social workers risk forgetting the human experience of the clients we serve. Frank is pained as he tries to make decisions in Mary’s best interest. Mary suffers grief when she is moved from Frank’s home. Let’s choose our words carefully, and strive to make our words dependable. We can’t promise that a parent will show up for a monitored visit, but we can promise that we will be there on time. We can’t promise we will always be this client’s caseworker, but we can promise we will always care. We can’t promise that a judge will make a desired ruling, but we can promise to be there with our client when the ruling is made. Our words carry weight because of our position, so clients might infer promises from things we say. We mean well, but it’s important that we don’t make promises we can’t keep, especially about things we can’t fully control. We hope for positive outcomes, and we want to help them avoid worry. Sometimes we want to assure our clients that everything will be okay. Mary is broken-hearted when she has to live with a foster family, and some of her feeling of betrayal comes because Frank has promised her that she won’t have to leave. The balance will vary from client to client, and the balance for each client will vary from time to time, but we should be conscious of the tension between underserving and overserving, and try to find the best middle ground. It may be difficult to balance a client’s needs for services against the need for recreation, rest, and extracurricular activities. I wonder if we ever create situations, like the one Frank fears, in which the well-intentioned services we offer are so numerous or time-consuming that the services themselves limit a client’s opportunities for carefree moments. As social workers, we work with clients who have gifts, but who also struggle or are disadvantaged in some way. I think the dilemma Frank faces is relevant to kids who are receiving rehabilitative services. He believes such pressure, although good for her academic career, would be harmful to her overall well-being. Mary is gifted, but Frank is hesitant to push her to pursue her academic gifting. Gifted raises interesting questions and themes that are relevant to what we do as social workers. When Frank realizes that Evelyn is not complying with the terms of the agreement, he works out a new compromise that does a better job of honoring Mary’s need for a happy, child-like life while also cultivating her mathematical gifts. He has promised that she will not have to leave him, but Frank feels that this compromise is necessary to ensure his continued presence in her life. Mary is devastated to have to leave Frank. When she turns 12, she can decide where she wants to live. Mary will live in a foster home less than ½ hour away from Frank. Evelyn takes Frank to court, and at the advice of his lawyer, Frank agrees to a compromise. Evelyn asserts that Frank is not pushing Mary hard enough, while Frank argues that Diane would have wanted Mary to have a normal childhood. Mary’s grandmother Evelyn learns of Mary’s potential and tries to insert herself into the child’s life. When the school discovers her giftedness, life changes. When he realizes that Mary needs more academic resources than he can provide, he enrolls her in a public school. For the first seven years of Mary’s life, Frank has chosen to keep her at home, to provide her with a normal childhood. Mary lives with her uncle Frank, Diane’s brother. Pushed to scholarship by her own mother, Evelyn, Diane devoted much of her adult life to solving one of the Millennium Prize Problems, but ultimately killed herself. Mary’s mother Diane was a mathematical genius. Seven-year-old Mary Adler is a prodigy, although it’s only recently been discovered. (Editor’s Note: This review contains spoilers.)
0 kommentar(er)
