Meg Stafford’s Social Work Story

At age 28, eight months after starting work as the House Manager at a small residential home for adolescents who had been hospitalized for mental illness, I was promoted to Director, when my predecessor left. I appreciated the blend of clinical and administrative duties, but worried about my decreasing role with the residents themselves. I was consistently amazed by what the residents could learn in an atmosphere that emphasized consistency, accountability, and a caring, personal presence. We met as a staff every Friday for four hours to coordinate treatment, and then met with each of the seven residents individually about how he or she was doing. Three years later, when it came time for me to leave, we spent time addressing the advances and challenges of my tenure as Director, but the biggest learning came the week after I left. One of the quietest residents had saved up all his money, and boarded a flight to Hawaii. Much as I might have downplayed the connection, I could not deny that the timing of his actions must undeniably relate to my own departure. I have never since underestimated the power of what a client picks up from our words, our actions and intentions. Though I was not able to process it with him, I hope some part of him knows the impact he had on me.