Sometimes ya just gotta blow your own horn. Today is one of those times for me. I am a child abuse investigator. That’s not quite super-hero status, but my feats of skill and strength are no less amazing.
In a 48-hour period, I was assigned 7 child abuse or neglect cases to investigate, three of which required an immediate response.
I put 200 miles on my car driving around town looking for these folks in order to make contact and assess for the children’s safety.
I interviewed numerous people, none of whom were happy to see me. I worked my magic to ensure everyone stayed calm and engaged. I’m performing social work, and social work works best when folks are talking with me openly and honestly.
I don’t even know how many phone calls I took during that time. I talked to police detectives, concerned family members, medical professionals, and of course, the people I am investigating.
In addition to all those meetings and conversations, I’ve had to keep up documentation on every encounter, because if it’s not in writing, it didn’t happen.
Oh, and did I mention that one of those investigations required a removal? Yes, so I’ve also been dancing around with supervisors and administrators, legal staff, and medical staff. Each has needs that only I can fill. And of course, each feels his or her needs are the most important.
Heady stuff, isn’t it? But I’m not the only superhero in my league. There are many of us across the state and around the country, and we’re all pretty doggone amazing. We do the work that many of you can’t. We do it for low pay. And we do it with little or no recognition or praise, not from the public, not from the media, not even from our supervisors. Police officers? Firemen? People love ’em. Us? Not so much.
I do, however, get many thank-yous, and they always come from the families I work with. Those are what keep me going. Funny, isn’t it? I’m most appreciated by the people whom you’d think would like me the least.
Now while I’d love to sit and chat a bit longer, I need to hit the showers. It’s time to head back out and do my part to make the world a safer place.