This should actually be called “drunk musings late at night”
I worked a lot these last weeks and my job is quite heavy on my mind. I work with teenage girls who are pregnant and don’t have a place to go. I work with teen moms and their kids, who don’t have the support of a family. Today was a particularly challenging day. But due to a confidentiality agreement in my job, I will not go into detail.
However, I am left with the following questions:
Will we ever know how much we inspired or helped a person if they don’t tell us?
Can we save a life and maybe change fate with something we say?
I worked at a daycare centre for a long time. I helped babies develop their speech, helped them in their motricity (turning, sitting, crawling, walking), and supported their development. And I know that they knew my name and loved me (they smiled when they save me and came in without tantrums), but I also know that they already forgot about me. I left the nursery on March 9th, 2021. Not officially, I always thought or hoped that I could go back after my shoulder surgery, but in the end, that day was my last day there.
And now with the young girls, I don’t know how vain or egomaniac it sounds, but I want to make a difference. What I really wish is for a girl to look back on her life in ten years and remember the educator who was kind and offered wisdom without judgement. Yes, that’s my goal. I don’t need them to tell me that they like me, but I want them to lead their lives and remember me with a fond smile. I want to inspire them.
The thing is, I am not allowed to tell my own story. It would probably help them quite a bit, but as a professional, I can not tell my clients about an abusive childhood, about neglect, about abandonment, rape, and about all the ways I pulled myself out of it all without any support. I can not tell them how much I suffer still and how important it is to face the past’s demons. No, I am a professional, I cannot do that. What I can do is try to understand them, to show them empathy and compassion, to remind them that if no one is there, we at the centre are there. It’s tough though. Very tough.
There are these young girls who have survived so much already, they have a lot of history on their backs and because of the babies in their bellies their future will be forever changed and challenged.
I hate my job. I love my job. But as always, I am overthinking.
Drunk musings at night when you should be asleep. But the day upset me. I did a good job, but yes… For the first time in 7 months (since I started there) I cannot let go because I don’t want to look the other way.
One more meeting tomorrow, and then I am off work until next Thursday. I am looking forward to that.
By the way, it’s my birthday next Tuesday. Mark your calendars. I am expecting music and cake and many niceties.