Tag Archives: FosterCare

Career Decisions.

I am currently a Foster Care Treatment Coordinator for a nonprofit community-based agency.  I love the agency I work for because they really invest in and take pride in their work, employees, and clients.  The agency as a whole has a solid foundation in recognizing the goodness in others and encourages young people and families to achieve their best.

That said, I have a Master of Social Work degree and make $30,000.  Because of my love for my job, money isn’t my motivator.  I do realize that working for a nonprofit means lower pay.  I find that making $30,000 with my MSW is a bit unfair when my bestie’s husband makes twice as much as I do and he has his GED.  I’m really proud of him!

Since I started my career in social work, and specifically in the child welfare field (3 years ago), I have wanted to progress higher on the social worker food chain, so to speak.  I want to progress.  I want to succeed.  I want to go further in my career.  Who doesn’t?  (Granted, some people are perfectly happy with their minimum wage job and I am fine with their happiness.)

I am happy with my job.  I’m not thrilled about my pay.  I want to further my career.  I’d like better benefits, too.  All that said, I have a job interview on Monday for a state job.  This would be a $10,000 or more pay raise.  I would get amazing benefits, paid vacation.  There is one major obstacle in my way of getting the position: the job is in a different state.  I’m licensed in the state in which I am currently living.  The job is in a neighboring state.  I would have to get my license switched to the other state.  Which, I don’t mind doing and is doable.  I just know that these things take time.

The city that the job is in is only about 40 minutes from where I’m currently living.  I would prefer to move closer however it would not be necessary to do so immediately, which is nice.  That would give me time to save enough for a security deposit and first month’s rent (I *hate* that about renting – hey, rent is $850 and you also need to give me $850 as a security deposit because everyone has $1700 laying around. Whatever.)

And then I received an email from a city that is about 2 hrs from me in the same state that I’m interviewing for… They’re looking people for three different positions.  I’m honored that they emailed me.  So now I need to decide if I’d also like to interview for those positions.

Decisions, decisions, decisions.

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I Need Bail.

I have the most awesomest (I’m aware that awesomest isn’t a word) boss ever.  🙂  She, my other coworker, and I were discussing silly, crazy boys with mommy issues (perfect Monday morning conversation) and she offered to be my bail-out should I need it.  Just text her and she’ll call with a work emergency.  Crazy thing is, in my line of work, a work emergency is very believable.  Some things that have happened recently that have required immediate attention:

  1. Kid caught with marijuana at school
  2. Kid attacked foster parents 4 times (not same kid as above)
  3. Baby born and needed placed
  4. Emergency meeting 2 hours away

I apologize if you’re a previous date and you’re reading this and I’ve left said date with a work emergency.  I’ve done it before and I will so totally do it again.  Why?  Because men who make dehumanizing and sexist remarks, take uneaten food from another person’s plate, look 5+ years older than his online profile picture, and/or live in his parents’ basement with several ferrets and cats make me want to vomit and I’d rather do that in the comfort of my own space (you know, since I don’t actually have a home).

So now I have a bail-out.  Just text and she’ll call.  I have the most awesomest boss ever.

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Humanity.

Type 1 – Kindness.

I was sitting in a local diner with my intern.  As we waited for our food to be delivered, the lady (probably in her 70s) at the booth in front of us walked to the booth behind us where another woman (also probably in her 70s) sat.  The following conversation unfolded:

Old Lady 1: Hi.  I was wondering if you’d like to join me at my table.
Old Lady 2: Oh.  That’s ok.  I’m used to eating alone.
Old Lady 1: Me too.  But if you’d like to eat together that would be nice.
Old Lady 2: Well, I think I’ll just sit here.
Old Lady 1: I would really like the company.
Old Lady 2: Thank you so much.  I really appreciate that.

The two old ladies ate dinner together and seemed to connect in only a way two old ladies can.  They chatted and giggled throughout their meal.

——–

Type 2 – Oblivious.

I had gotten to work at 8am on Thursday morning and parked right in front of the office door.  I had to unload and haul in $1800+ worth of toys and clothes for my foster kiddos.  And then I had to take all of that stuff up to the third floor in the building, and no, there’s no elevator.  I share the building with others.  I unloaded the vehicle and then made six trips up and down the stairs.  People on the second floor watched me complete the task.  One lady sang, “Santa Claus is coming to town!”  Really?  Can you not see that I have a bajillion things to carry up?  Maybe a little help?  Oh well.

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Type 3 – Asshole.

An ex emailed me the other day asking how I was doing.  And then he said, “I regret everything in the past.  Just to let you know.  You are the kinkiest girl I’ve ever been with.”  Of all the things he gleaned from our relationship, me being his kinkiest partner is what stands out in his mind… Not the hours I spent driving to/from his place (this was an LDR) or meals I cooked or the cleaning I did or anything else?  And why do you regret everything? Is it because I was the kinkiest or because you finally fucking realized that cheating is wrong?  Whatever.

——–

Type 4 – Empathic.

Yesterday I had a team meeting regarding one of my foster kids.  Bio mom was explaining her own childhood.  As she cried she described why she had been removed from her parents when she was only 5 years old and how she bounced around from foster home to foster home, never feeling that anyone loved her.  And then she said that she will do anything to make sure that doesn’t happen to her own daughter.  As foster mom and I were leaving, foster mom cried about how bio mom’s foster parents were supposed to love her like their own child.  My chest did it’s normal heaving thing when I’m trying to not cry and my eyes welled up with tears.  Though I wasn’t in foster care and my foster mom wasn’t a foster child, we can both understand pain and suffering.  The suffering bio mom went through gives me and the team a better understanding of what has gone wrong and how we can help her make the necessary changes.  I’m going to be bio mom’s cheerleader and do everything in my power to help her realize her potential to be a great mom.

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