Why would anyone choose social work?

When I was 6 years old I wanted to be an astrophysicist. Actually, I just wanted a job looking at the stars and my brother taught me the very impressive term 'astrophysicist' and I began saying it frequently when I learned that it impressed adults very much. I also wanted to be a truck driver, a princess, a rock star, and President of the United States. Not once, however, in all my youth, did I ever dream of being a social worker.

I doubt that I even knew what a social worker was until sometime in early adulthood. I remember going through a phase during that time when I had the overwhelming desire to change the world, and I decided to take a class in sociology to test the waters. After intro to soc, I decided that the field was obviously too complicated and boring at the same time (quite a feat) for me to entertain that path further. I decided to pursue a psychology degree instead, because I recognized by that point that perhaps spending a career around those with more mental issues than myself might be good for my self esteem.

Now, since my loins had been sanctioned as a baby factory during these years, and production was lucrative, my choices had no immediate consequences. I did not use my education in psychology for several years after college and instead spent my time shaping the world of my three children. It was not until a devastating divorce and a sudden need to find employment that I gave any thought at all to my career choice. I learned quite quickly that possessing only an undergraduate degree in psychology is like buying a house with the roof missing. You spent a ton of money but it is not actually functional. Interestingly enough, however, the one thing I found that was remotely related to my field was a case manager position at a mental health facility for juvenile delinquents.

The pay was not great, but it kept food in our mouths and I was in no position to be choosy. It marked the beginning of a career in social work that was accidental, but perhaps destined. I'm still here, after many years although I have switched positions, locations and specialties a few times. The only thing that has remained consistent (other than the chaos) is that I have always worked and continue to work with generally underprivileged families.

Some days, I still want to save the world. Some days, I do. Other days, I envy Ted Bundy. I have been burned out, burned back in, seasoned, tenured, assaulted, combative, unappreciated, over-credited, and overwhelmed. I see the best and the worst of human nature on a daily basis, and I live each day to tell about it.

When attempting to think of a name for this blog, I finally decided on the social work cynic for two reasons: a) my other clever name ideas were taken already and b) I like that the word cynic has an interesting history. When we hear the word cynic today, we generally think of the distrusting, sarcastic individual that is the eternal pessimist of human nature. However, cynicism, in its traditional philosophic roots was almost in complete contrast. It promoted abandoning material possessions, fame and power. It championed self-sufficiency. Since my view on social work definitely fluctuates from kumbaya to murderous rage depending on the day, I think the duality of the term 'cynic' is appropriate.