Well, today I just finished my last “observation shift” for my Youth Treatment Specialist (YTS) position – from now on, I’m on my own. Actually in charge of something, actually responsible for decisions that need to be made, in part responsible for the lives of several emotionally disturbed children.
When you take psychology classes, the first thing they tell you is, be ready for ambiguity. A lot of psychology is asking why we do things, how we do things, and if that makes us unique as individuals, a culture, or a species. Most of the time, there’s no clear cut answers; Plenty of theories, but none *quite* right. Nothing to satisfy the innate sense of curiosity that comes along with a natural tendency towards studying human beings. If you cannot stand an inability to answer your many questions, psychology simply isn’t the field for you.
Man. How that plays out in the real world is beyond complicated. You think it only applies to the big theories, and stays within the classroom walls. Oh no friend, it is so much more – so every-day, all-consuming, life-changingly much more.
The first part of an observation shift you usually have a little down time, so you sit and do some file reading. Learning backgrounds, disabilities, and behavioral tendencies is a big part of succeeding when you interact with the kids. I did ok on the first two shifts. This last one really got to me though. Maybe it was because it was girls, so it was easier to put myself in their place. It broke my heart to read what had happened to some of these kids. It broke my heart to know that this type of thing wasn’t in movies or books because it was the outlier – using the most dramatic and obscene cases to make money – but that it happens all the time. It happens often enough to fill group hopes in every county, with kids who will struggle for the rest of their lives due largely to the actions of others. With kids whose disabilities would cause them to act in ways that perpetuates the cycle – hurting others in the ways they were hurt. When they’re lucid, of course they would never wish their lot in life on anyone else. But I think there’s a place that you go to when you’ve seen abuse…a place where that rationality just can’t get through. It’s about survival. It’s about finding an ounce of freedom for yourself somewhere, no matter the cost.
And then there’s the flip side. Their past causes them to hurt other people. Whether it is people in their family, people in their past, another member of the group home or you (right here, right now) – the actions of these kids can have dire consequences. Veterans like to weed out newbies who aren’t fit for the job by sharing battle scars at the end of a shift. Stories of people losing teeth, getting stabbed, breaking bones, and various other hospital-worthy offenses clearly communicates to the fresh meat that this is not a job for the faint of heart. These kids can be malicious, and they have no qualms about taking you out. We know where it comes from, but sometimes in the moment, it just seems so……evil.
But I guess that makes perfect sense – evil perpetuates. Is it their fault? In most ways, no. (In case you haven’t noticed yet, my vote is emphatically, “nurture”). Yet, it’s our job to make sure they learn to take responsibility for it. Working their asses off to correct problems most of them didn’t bring on themselves, in order to stop the cycle of abuse and neglect. In order to stop the evil. Most YTS will tell you we have the hardest job in the world, describing it as “raising other people’s behaviorally disturbed kids”. I think these kids have the hardest jobs in the world, and they don’t all succeed.
Ambiguity. I don’t want to punish you, because I know what’s happened to you. But if I don’t, you won’t ever know how to behave properly, and you’ll probably hurt someone else. It’s not your fault, but you still get to pay for it. You still get to be the one who pays the dues that the person before you didn’t – which is why you’re here to begin with. It’s so unfair, it’s so difficult to balance empathy and diligence. Realism, and wanting to give everything you have to be the ‘mom’ they need.
“sink or swim” they warned me today – either you can do it, or you can’t. It’s not like a test, where you can probably tell someone beforehand what grade you’ll most likely get, and you know well in advance when it’s coming. Or a paper, where you get to see your work before it gets handed in. This is real life. It happens whenever it wants, and your reaction has to be split-second, factoring in a thousand variables and praying to God you don’t get it wrong.
Right now, waiting for that first moment, that first test to know whether or not I can really do it is so nerve-wracking. I’m on the raft, it’s got a leak, and there are swimmers all around me coaching me for the eventual plunge. When that moment comes precisely, no one knows for sure.
Sink or swim? Hold your breath – only time will tell.
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