Changing the Conversation

This is a poem I come back to over and over again. I found it years ago, and every time I look at it, it seems to resonate in new ways.

After some days of supporting clients, it’s the “immense responsibility and very little authority” that catches me. After other days, it’s about “resounding triumphs and devastating failures.” And still other days, it’s about “always be[ing] frustrated.”

My frustration is sometimes directed at the systems. Why are they so complicated? Why do they set people up to fail? Why don’t they support people the way they should?

Sometimes, quite honestly, my frustration is directed at the people with whom I am working. Why did she go back to her abusive partner? Why did he spend his $10,000 settlement in a month? Why did he pay his phone bill, but not his rent? Why did she use again?

When I posted this drawing on Twitter just before New Year’s Eve, it was almost too much for me to bear. Should I really post this silly scan for all 900 of my Twitter geeks to see? Many people were sharing what 2015 meant to them, including resolutions that they will likely drop by March and superlatives about the previous year’s experiences. For me, I had to post this tweet because it was true. Coloring saved my life.

I thought I had lost my creativity and fluidity at moments during 2015—that somehow things had gotten crushed inside. Working in the recovery field as a survivor of a parent struggling with addiction has called attention to my own trauma history. It has also meant that work has come home with me and barged through my office door. I have struggled with self-worth constantly, even well into my 30s and well into my career. Adjusting to my family’s ups and downs, I was uprooted physically from my support network when I moved to the Pacific Northwest six months ago. The unfamiliarity helped to dislodge me.

December 22 is the winter solstice in the Northern Hemisphere, marking the longest night and the shortest day. Each day until the summer solstice, more and more light enters our hemisphere; our days lengthen, our nights shorten. Many of the holidays celebrated in the winter months incorporate the notion of light bringing clarity, warmth, and hope into a world of darkness. From solstice celebrations to Diwali, from Christmas to Chanukah, these holidays celebrate the triumph of light over darkness, the emergence of hope in the midst of despair.

Many people who have been homeless have lived through neglect, isolation, and multiple traumas. Because of these experiences, many are distrustful when they begin to engage in services. Are we as service providers prepared to bridge the chasm between our position of security and their position of multiple losses and wounds?