driving me crazy

A couple weeks ago I jobshadowed at this clubhouse for severely mentally ill adults. It was awesome. I don't know how much I've mentioned it, but working with severely mentally ill adults, especially individuals affected by schizophrenia, is kind of my dream. But recently I've been kind of unhappy and that causes me to question basically every part of my life, including my plans for the future, even though they really have nothing to do with my grandma's death or a difficult Physics teacher. But anyway, the point is that I became concerned that I would go down the path of social work and then realize that I hate it. Most people think I won't be any good at it and sometimes I worry that they're right.
So I was both excited and nervous to do this day at this place. My mother (who was a social worker for many years) has a lot of connections within the mental health community where we live so normally they wouldn't allow teenagers to do this.
The premise behind this organization is that the mentally ill people, called members, work with the staff to maintain the clubhouse. The clubhouse, in return, is a place for them to eat, socialize, and gain job experience. It's really a cool program and I think it helps a lot of people.
My dad dropped me off at 8. The clubhouse is indeed a house, it's this old Victorian place painted bright purple on the inside and out. I meet up with the young woman I'm supposed to be shadowing and she tells me in a bit more detail what she does on a day to day basis and what the mission of the organization is. (I know it already because I did my research, but I digress.) She seemed kind of stressed and later she tells me that this is because she actually has to do a lot of things that she doesn't really know how to do. She's a social worker but since another employee quit, she's also been having to do all the financial stuff. Which sucks.
Interestingly enough, despite only having known these people for about a day, I still remember their names. However, due to confidentiality and my own morality, I will not be including them in this post.
So she asks this very small man with thick glasses and a bad stutter to give me a tour, which he does, happily. He was very noun-focused. "This is the printer." "Here are some computers." He wanted to know what exactly I would be doing today, and I told him. He seemed satisfied.
Next we had the morning meeting, which includes both staff and higher-functioning members. It's interesting how this particular managerial layout of staff and members working together really blurs the line between staff and member. Sitting at the table, I was not immediately able to tell who was what, even after some conversation had elapsed. Mental illness is a very complicated thing. I found out when everyone went around the table and introduced themselves. It was kind of funny because their meeting room is also the dining area, so some of the members were just sort of there to eat breakfast and were not particularly interested in the meeting. Everyone was very friendly and pleasant. The gentleman with the glasses is also eating his breakfast and reading what appears to be a children's cookbook. He asks me what champagne is and I tell him.
Next my supervisor introduces me to some more members. One is very eager to show me the thrift shop that is the main source of income for this organization and, like the rest of the club, is partially run by members. One woman tells me that she graduated from my highschool. She tells me that the town actually used to be even less interesting than it is now.
Our next job is counting out the cash from last month's kitchen income. Some members help in the kitchen but members do pay for their meals. My supervisor, the woman who went to my high school, another member, and I do this at the kitchen table. My supervisor explains that members really like helping count the money and it reminds me of my uncle, the one with schizophrenia. He collects pennies. I learn that a member was hospitalized yesterday and it was not clear to me whether it was a psychiatric hospitalization or for something unrelated. A lot of the members want to go see her but it is difficult to arrange transportation, as very few members have driver's licenses and even fewer have vehicles.
We talk to an older member in a new motorized wheelchair about his dog. He says that he has not been hospitalized since he got her, and that keeping track of her veterinary appointments helps him stay more "with it". I think this is a very good idea.
I had been worried that I would struggle to interact with members or that I would say the wrong thing, but by this point in the day I've found that they're actually very easy to talk to. Other than trying to avoid the use of the word "crazy" or other similar words, I did not have any problems with conversation.
The member we counted money with sits with me at lunch and she tells me more about her life. She has bipolar disorder. She has two grown children, one of whom is in school to become a social worker. When they were young her husband was in the military and they moved around a lot. She enjoys knitting. She misses her husband. (I do not ask where he has gone.)
After lunch, another staff member suggests that I help clean up in the kitchen. She introduces me to the member who most often does this, adding that he is "one of our younger members", which makes me laugh. I try to help him clean up but I think he really prefers to do it himself. After I complete each task, I ask him what I should do next and every time he tells me that I can "take a quick break, I guess." I washed a dish and took a break. Then I washed another dish and took another break. By the time I had rinsed all the dishes, he was done with the entire kitchen. I felt kind of bad that I didn't help him more. It was funny, though, the rest of the day, every time he saw me, he would stop and thank me for helping him.
By this time, it is 2:00. Time passed SO quickly, probably because I actually enjoyed what I was doing. My supervisor is now ready to do an "HR training". The staff do a lot of trainings to help the members learn skills for both their jobs at the clubhouse and future jobs. This particular training topic is Hiring and Discrimination. Apparently the clubhouse has had some problems with both members and staff while conducting interviews for their most recent position. Not like racism or anything, but asking questions that they aren't legally allowed to ask. This training began in the dining/meeting room, and was attended by myself and the other member I spoke to earlier over lunch about knitting and family. After a couple minutes, another member comes in to eat his lunch, but starts contributing more as we talk about what is and is not acceptable in hiring. My supervisor mentions that in our state, there is no law to prevent people from not hiring someone based on sexual orientation. At this point, the guy trying to eat lunch comments, "Hey! That's not right at all!". We all agree. As we talk about it more, it's clear that he doesn't know particularly a lot about LGBT rights, but his heart is definitely in the right place. We also talked about how some people who interviewed for a job recently were not very respectful of members and didn't really seem to understand what the entire organization was about. This was probably my favorite part of the day because after it was over, my supervisor tells some of the other staff members how much this member participated in the training, and they're kind of floored. Apparently this guy really hasn't spoken to anyone in the past month, much less participated in an activity. I was very pleased.
Things are starting to wind down around the clubhouse. I help make Kool-Aid for some of the members, who are thrilled, and then staff member introduces me to a gentleman sitting in the office drinking some Kool-Aid. She says that he has been at the clubhouse for a very long time and is all about education. Apparently he will tell me whatever I want to know. I ask him a couple questions about schizophrenia and how his life is. He happily tells me all about it but soon diverts the conversation to the topic of Kool-Aid. I did not know that it was possible to have so much to say about Kool-Aid, but it is. He tells me what flavors of Kool-Aid he prefers, how he prepares the Kool-Aid, and which members like Kool-Aid the most. He was really a nice guy and I enjoyed talking to him.
At this point, it is time for me to leave. Emma is waiting in the parking lot to pick me up, and declines my invitation to come inside. (Her loss.) My knitting friend rushes to get me something, which turns out to be a mug with the clubhouse logo on it. It's a very nice mug and I use it often. It was really nice getting to know her. My supervisor wrote a couple of lines on this sheet I have to turn in for my jobshadowing. She said some really nice things. I was particularly pleased that she said I did a really excellent job building rapport with members.
I think you'll think that this was a really boring blog post, and it probably was, but it was one of the best things I've done in a long time. I had a really excellent time and it reasurred me that this is really something I want to do. I really really want to do this.