Over the past two months I have watched many kids come and go. I’ve seen good kids; bad kids, crazy kids and just normal need some help kids. I’ve watched kids grow and I’ve watched them change. I’ve seen how horrible life can be and how much help some youth really need and how little they receive. I’ve watched promises be broken and kids come out the other side disappointed and hurt. I’ve discovered how brutal the system is and everything that happens within this runaway, foster care system takes so much time. I’ve realized that the people who generally hurt these kids are those who are closest to them. The ones that mean the most to them are the ones who have the most power to hurt them. I’ve watched kids lash out because life hasn’t been fair to them. I’ve seen rules broken for the sake of the clients. I have learned how to answer the phone, what to say to new clients who want to come in, how to fill out an intake sheet, how to update a client file, how to lead a group session. I’ve learned that the simple act of eating meals with these kids at the dinner table can create trust. I’ve learned that shelter food isn’t always as bad as it looks, and that clients actually do have input on the meal plan each week. I’ve learned that for funding purposes each clients must sign their name that they have eaten after every meal and they are assigned chores to clean up the house after dinner. I have learned that gloves must be used while preparing food, and that I am not as good of a cook as I thought I was.

I learned a lot working at our house but not nearly as much as I thought I would. I thought I would learn a lot more about the system, but instead I ended up learning more about the clients. I wouldn’t change this learning experience, but I wish there had been someone there who would’ve had time to teach me more in depth about how the shelter and all of the outside forces work. I didn’t feel like I even was able to brush the surface of what I could’ve learned and done. I never got to sit in on an intake because none ever came in while I was working. I never got to help with departures again because none ever happened on my shift. I only ever answered the phone a few times and never was really shown how the case filing and case managing worked. This is not the fault of the shelter, but rather a combination of my time constraint and bad luck.

I could spend all day analyzing all of the things I saw and heard at Our House. I could create conclusions, come up with assumptions and use my sociologist brain to analyze each and every scenario. But I’m going to try not to follow this instinct because it would take away from my experience. I went in as a sociologist, ready to analyze everyone and everything, but instead I came out with personal connections to people who I never thought would give me the time of day. I was worried about being accepted within the shelter and trying to find equal placing with the staff and clients. But once I realized that I was the one who was bringing all of the stereotypes and stigmas about myself and that once I accepted myself in that environment that the others would follow. That skill is easier said than done, but it is the one that I will take with me and use for the rest of my life.