(14) Reinforcing Powerlessness - CAIN - University of Ulster

which the group and I worked out the following agreement. They would identify suitablefamilies and offer assistance, and if accepted, would engage those families on theunderstanding that should they need advice I could be contacted at any time. Should realproblems surface, they would suggest to the family that I become involved directly. Itwas also understood that if there was any suspicion of child abuse I would have toinvestigate, whether the family agreed or not.In the event, these young women rarely needed to contact me, and in subsequentprogress meetings I was surprised not only by the range of problems they had begun totackle, but by the natural abilities they had been able to utilise. And all it had taken wasthe assurance that professional help was at hand should problems arise – this had beenthe catalyst which permitted these natural abilities to surface.Not to everyone’s liking . . .As I repeated this approach with other groups, it was made known to me that otherprofessionals (though not from within my own agency) were observing me withdisapproval. I was informed I was ‘taking a risk’ entrusting serious matters to ‘nonprofessionals’;I was demeaning my years of university training by imagining socialwork skills could be imparted to community volunteers in half-hour ‘chat’ sessions; Iwas consorting with well-known community activists whose strident pronouncementsagainst the prevailing social and economic conditions could cause my employersembarrassment; my presence was adding credibility to groups who might have overtpolitical agendas; I was allowing community groups to dictate my workload. . .It did not seem to matter that the community volunteers were well aware just whatconstituted a ‘serious’ matter, and were actually more willing than they had previouslybeen to request professional assistance, because it now seemed less threatening and moresupportive. It did not seem to matter that groups who genuinely cared about people’ssocial needs were inevitably developing a realistic appreciation of political and economicrealities, and were not in any mood to stick their heads in the sand, a habit perfected by somany professionals. Or that these community groups actually helped me devote moreattention to the work I was trained for, because while the groups referred difficult casesto me, they in turn accepted from me all those tasks which had previously taken up aninordinate amount of my time – benefit, housing, debt and other such matters. No, whatreally seemed to be at the root of all this professional antagonism was that there was adanger of revealing that the emperor had no clothes, that social work skills were notsomething magical known only to the initiated, but were a combination of common sensereasoning and natural ability given direction by proper training. One professionalcomplained to me: “These young people could end up imagining they could do our jobbetter than us.” What a shock that would be!“They would need to be under our control. . .”Despite the efforts to present this antagonism to my community involvement as a‘professional’ critique, it was difficult not to conclude that what was really at issue wasthe power relationship between professionals and non-professionals, and the desire,evident in most professions, not to lose control over a jealously-guarded monopoly.7