Why are we social workers? Spoiler alert: it's not for the money

The following poem is by Tiffany Green, a social worker for more than 20 years who is also an author and poet

I am a social worker 
Not a baby snatcher
Not a punching bag
Or a scapegoat.

I am a facilitator of change,
A protector and an advocate. 

I chose this life 
above any other.
No doubts.
No delusions.

So, 
when I see predators 
using my profession 
for quick access 
to vulnerable people, 
I get angry.

When the media 
emphasises their role as a social worker 
over naming them as criminals 
who used the profession 
to prey on those needing help, 
it ticks me off.

When I see my peers 
doing the best they can 
and I know firsthand 
that even if you recommend 
the best course of action for a child, 
your decision can be overridden by managers 
who are more than happy to name the SW 
as responsible for a tragedy, my rage spikes.

We are demonised in the public eye, 
destroyed by the media 
while competing for scarce resources, 
being asked to do more for less and neglecting ourselves. 

When managers make the decision 
to transfer underperforming staff 
rather than sacking them 
because they’re too scared or polite 
to document the issues and 
their efforts to support change, 
I must sit with my frustration and discomfort 
quelling the ulcerative fires churning in my belly.

I am a social worker 
Not a magician 
Or a politician. 
I don't make budgets,
I am given them.
Swallowing my indignation 
after reading about big money contracts 
that go unfulfilled, 
thinning our increasingly emaciated resource pool.

I watch the government debate 
what to do about crime 
instead of funding the programs proven to reduce it.

I am a social worker
charged with understanding the human condition 
in a world committed to misunderstanding my purpose, 
abdicating responsibility and misplacing blame.

I work with the abused and the traumatised 
in an abusive and traumatising system.

But change isn't coming, 
it's happening. The revolution 
is widespread 
and while you may not understand my purpose, 
I am not your enemy. 

I am here to help.

I will do the best I can 
with what I am given, 
believing that together, 
we will make it work.

I am a social worker 
and I will say it proudly from this day to my last.

Happy World Social Work Day! 

You matter. You see potential where others see problems. You make change possible. Be proud of what you do.

They say the burn out will take 3 years, 

But 5 years at uni and lots of tears

I’ll be surprised if I make to Friday, 

So, tell me why should I stay?

You shout at me, tell me I’m useless,

Say I don’t know what I’m doing, you even cuss.

I trained so hard, this was meant to be rewarding 

I’ve had varied experience, with mess and hoarding.

My case load is high, and so is my stress.

I get shouted at when I ask for your address.

You see me as the enemy,  but trust me I’ not.

There’s so much to do, with no support… it’s a lot!

Some days can be nice, you ask for advice.

But even then, it’s a roll of the dice.

I undertake assessments with people who say,

They don’t like my voice, or dress, or how much I weigh.

I get told I am too young, but I don’t think I am,

They say they won’t listen because they could be my Gran.

I’m now 4 years qualified and am slowly getting there,

Although you still don’t like my voice, clothes or my hair.

I often question how I got where I am today, 

A band 6 social worker in the NHS….

                                                    I still don’t do it for the pay.

Every day is different, I never know what to expect,

But I get to see the world from every aspect!

I love the challenge and am proud of my progress,

Even if social workers still don’t have a good rep in the press. 

I will continue to work to the best of my ability, 

Even when this is faced with hostility. 

5 years at uni and now 4 years qualified,

What a journey, one emotional ride!