Listen to thisLaura Steckley
When Mark Smith first discussed the possibility of me contributing to CYC-Online , I was simultaneously excited and daunted. I have always had a lot to say (often more than others probably wanted to hear) about working with young people. Since our discussion, I have mused over whether or not I have something to say that will be useful to others. In examining my own experiences, navigating the changes that have come with moving from the US, two and a half years ago, to manage a unit in a residential school in Scotland, I find myself trying to make sense of these within a wider cultural/social context. I initially wondered if any of these reflections would be of use to others, as I imagine my own situation is shared with only a small number of practitioners. The more I think about it, however, the more I come to realise that many of the issues I struggle with are not necessarily different from those with which my colleagues also struggle. The difference has more to do with perspective, and perhaps a different way of looking at things can be useful.
The next challenge has been to pick a particular topic or issue to write about. The one I have identified is an immediate and recurring one.
I am struck on an almost daily basis by how the residential treatment center I worked in, in Colorado, with ratios of five staff to twenty-eight residents (male and female), felt more in control than my current unit, which has ratios of four or five staff to nine or ten boys. By in control, I mean that the adults were in charge of what they needed to be in charge of, the kids knew it, and at any given moment, the vast majority of them (many of whom had undergone experiences just as damaging as the boys with whom I’m currently working) demonstrated a greater level of self-control.
On arriving in Scotland, I concluded that this feeling was a result of my own lack of confidence. This could be boiled down to my frequent inability to decipher which bits of my former knowledge and experience were appropriate and applicable to this new environment, and which were not. In the final analysis, this assessment was correct, but incomplete. As my head has stopped spinning and my feet become more firmly planted, I recognise that the factors at play in helping explain this difference are complex. They include the difference between a treatment and a care environment, my own issues to do with control, sexism (and the different ways it becomes manifest in different cultures), and classism (and its impact on how young people see themselves and their placements), to name but a few.
One issue I would like to explore in a bit more depth can be explained using a metaphor I learned from a talented practitioner and staff trainer back home. He called it “the myth of authority,” and illustrated it using an experience of running each morning past a neighbour’s dog. This dog (who was quite large) would come bounding down the hill towards him, barking ferociously, and would stop short at the fence separating the two of them. Now this dog was twice the height of the fence and could easily have jumped over it. This situation, translated to the residential child care experience, has the fence representing the authority or boundaries we provide for the young people in our centers. When staff are skilled and confident in their ability to uphold this fence, the young people tend to believe in it as well, even when there is quite a low ratio of adults to young people. In fact, this fence serves everyone’s need to feel safe. Some of the factors that might weaken it include a lack of skills, understanding or confidence in upholding boundaries, impersonal or overly rigid boundaries within which children's other needs are not met, or inappropriately placed youngsters.
I suspect most residential establishments struggle to a greater or lesser extent with one or more of the aforementioned factors. Certainly there were times in my former place of work when we had difficulty setting and maintaining boundaries. However, one would think that with such higher ratios of adults to young people in my current job, it would be much easier. Why do we not believe as readily in this “myth?” Now my own crisis of confidence since moving here (and indeed it has often felt like a crisis to lack confidence after years of having it in these situations) definitely impacted our fence.
Additionally, I think there is a different expectation as to how controlled a care environment (versus a treatment environment) should be. However, I have the distinct impression that the current climate emphasizing children's rights and “safe caring”, sometimes to the exclusion of broader caring imperatives or, more mistakenly, as ends in and of themselves, can actually impede workers” ability to provide the type of environments that promote safety and a respect for others” rights. With media attention focusing on incidents of abuse or scandal in residential care, and the service still being seen as a last resort, care workers practise in a subtle but powerful atmosphere of devaluing and suspicion. An already complex and demanding task is made more difficult. All too often as a result, young people are negatively empowered and a style of relating is reinforced, often leading down the road to an ultimate loss of most of their rights and liberties, as they are propelled towards secure accommodation.
It has been my experience that when this fence is appropriately sturdy, it becomes less of a focus, sometimes to the point of hardly being noticeable at all. Care workers and young people alike can then spend more time in the garden, pursuing the richer and more rewarding fruits resulting from the other processes that promote healing and positive development.
My own struggle can be characterized by the difficulty in getting that fence in place – which boundaries are right for this setting, how should they be enforced, how do I empower myself and my team to establish and maintain them – all the while knowing this is just the beginning and that the real magic, which is this work, happens next.
