Men Anpil Chay Pa Lou: The Role of the Social Worker
I have been asked so frequently what exactly it is that I do in Haiti - and each time I stumble to find an answer that accurately shows the various roles that my job in social work asks of me. The best way to describe what I do and the reasons behind it is through examples. Here's an example of what the medical coordinator part of my job looks like.
This week I helped a 7 year old receive life altering foot surgery. Here's a little bit of backstory: Woodenschly suffered serious burns to his feet at just 2 months old. Through a miraculous resiliency he survived this, but was left with pretty severe contractures on both feet, meaning neither foot was flat when he walked. Walking on the side of his left foot and the heel of his right, as he grew getting around became increasingly difficult. Though this is not a life threatening injury, it is certainly life altering. His mother is amazing; I have worked with many men and women and caregivers in all capacities here, and his mother is by far one of the best, with a deep love for her children and the instinctual call to fight for them at all costs. She spent all the money she could to take him to multiple doctors, hearing repeatedly that nothing could be done. A mother of 7, soon to be 8, of which half she has taken in after the death of her sister in law. She lives in a one room home, and works as hard as she can, wherever she can, to feed all the children in her care.
As a social worker I am the middle man. The middle spoke in a wheel that connects all the pieces together. A bridge between a need and the resources to meet it. In this situation, I applied on behalf of Woodenschly to an organization, Childspring, that covers the costs of life altering procedures for children in developing countries. After being accepted to the program and assigned an orthopedic surgeon in California, we found out that he was actually moving to Haiti to work in country full time. Praise God! I coordinated his pre-op consultations, providing transportation, meals for her other children in the home, and food along the way. I also went along with the family, as I always try to do, because there is a strong need for advocacy in the Haitian medical system. For most Haitians, especially someone living in Jubilee, assertiveness is not a trait often seen, and the wait times can be extensive in clinics and hospitals. My role as an advocate in the hospital it to ensure my patient is getting everything he/she needs, from prescriptions to x-rays and anything in between.
I then helped the family prepare for their hospital stay during the operation itself. Assisting in planning childcare for the other children in the home, making sure his mother knew what she needed to bring to the hospital, preparing some snacks and toys for his stay, etc. I arranged transportation and prepared myself to go along for the first few days. We reached some hiccups in the trip. The first hospital stay it took a full 24 hours before we were told they accidentally scheduled his surgery on the wrong day, and we would have to come back the next week. So again we arranged everything and left for Port, but this time we were stuck on a bus for 6 hours on the wrong side of a manmade roadblock. Eventually, we turned back. Knowing we'd leave first thing in the morning they stayed the night with me and we tried again, finally successful on our third trip.
During the surgery I coordinated with doctors, ran to get prescriptions he needed during the procedure, sat and waited while his mom took breaks outside, ran to get supplies while she stayed with him in post-op, coordinated all follow-up appointments, was taught what he needed to do for PT, learned how to change his bandages, etc. All the extra details so that his mom could be with him while he needed her. Just one day later I was able to coordinate our transportation back home.
This week I have opened my home to them. He has several healing but still open wounds on his feet and his risk of infection on a dirt floor is just too high. Both he and his mother will stay with me for his first 7-10 days. I am not taking Woodenschly away from his mother. I am not acting in place of his mother. He is a 7 year old with a loving mama and he needs nothing more in this time of healing than her care. I would never pretend to act like I could replace that, nor should I desire to. But, a pregnant single mother of 7 children with a job to sustain and a son healing from major surgery - she just needs extra hands. She needs someone to stay home with him and watch cartoons while she cooks for the rest of her children. She needs someone to help him with his PT while she works to keep her job. She needs a partner, so that becomes my work this week. To meet this family where they are, and help them in the midst of it. There is a Haitian saying - Men anpil chay pa lou - many hands make the load lighter. In this instance, that is my work. To be the extra hands, to carry half the load, to make it lighter so his mother can manage all that is asked of her.
This role looks different in every case. I don't often bring people into my home. Sometimes the appointments are big surgeries, sometimes it's finding urgent hospitalization, and sometimes it's just coordinating physical therapy for a malnourished child. Each case looks different, but the work is the same. To be an extra set of hands to carry the load that is already often too heavy. To be a bridge connecting families in need to resources that can meet those needs, and to walk it out alongside them. Haiti doesn't need people to come in and do the work for her. Haiti certainly doesn't need more hand outs, she's had about as many of those as she can handle. Haiti needs people to walk into relationship with families in need, and to empower them to meet those needs themselves. Woodenschly's mom couldn't afford a surgery, or know how to apply for a grant without internet, or know how to navigate the insane medical system in large Haitian hospitals. But she knows how to be an incredible mother, and she wants to help her son find healing in the same way any mother would. She just needs someone with connections to resources to come alongside her and empower her to do that work herself. As foreigners, we are never meant to take the load off of someone and carry it ourselves, or to find all the answers to problems we see; we are only meant to walk alongside them, and silently support those who are carrying a bit more than they can handle. We are not the heroes, we are only to be the quiet workers behind the scenes, so loving mothers can do what they do best. We are only meant to offer extra hands to a country already carrying a heavy load, yet more than capable of meeting its own needs.
This week I helped a 7 year old receive life altering foot surgery. Here's a little bit of backstory: Woodenschly suffered serious burns to his feet at just 2 months old. Through a miraculous resiliency he survived this, but was left with pretty severe contractures on both feet, meaning neither foot was flat when he walked. Walking on the side of his left foot and the heel of his right, as he grew getting around became increasingly difficult. Though this is not a life threatening injury, it is certainly life altering. His mother is amazing; I have worked with many men and women and caregivers in all capacities here, and his mother is by far one of the best, with a deep love for her children and the instinctual call to fight for them at all costs. She spent all the money she could to take him to multiple doctors, hearing repeatedly that nothing could be done. A mother of 7, soon to be 8, of which half she has taken in after the death of her sister in law. She lives in a one room home, and works as hard as she can, wherever she can, to feed all the children in her care.
As a social worker I am the middle man. The middle spoke in a wheel that connects all the pieces together. A bridge between a need and the resources to meet it. In this situation, I applied on behalf of Woodenschly to an organization, Childspring, that covers the costs of life altering procedures for children in developing countries. After being accepted to the program and assigned an orthopedic surgeon in California, we found out that he was actually moving to Haiti to work in country full time. Praise God! I coordinated his pre-op consultations, providing transportation, meals for her other children in the home, and food along the way. I also went along with the family, as I always try to do, because there is a strong need for advocacy in the Haitian medical system. For most Haitians, especially someone living in Jubilee, assertiveness is not a trait often seen, and the wait times can be extensive in clinics and hospitals. My role as an advocate in the hospital it to ensure my patient is getting everything he/she needs, from prescriptions to x-rays and anything in between.I then helped the family prepare for their hospital stay during the operation itself. Assisting in planning childcare for the other children in the home, making sure his mother knew what she needed to bring to the hospital, preparing some snacks and toys for his stay, etc. I arranged transportation and prepared myself to go along for the first few days. We reached some hiccups in the trip. The first hospital stay it took a full 24 hours before we were told they accidentally scheduled his surgery on the wrong day, and we would have to come back the next week. So again we arranged everything and left for Port, but this time we were stuck on a bus for 6 hours on the wrong side of a manmade roadblock. Eventually, we turned back. Knowing we'd leave first thing in the morning they stayed the night with me and we tried again, finally successful on our third trip.
During the surgery I coordinated with doctors, ran to get prescriptions he needed during the procedure, sat and waited while his mom took breaks outside, ran to get supplies while she stayed with him in post-op, coordinated all follow-up appointments, was taught what he needed to do for PT, learned how to change his bandages, etc. All the extra details so that his mom could be with him while he needed her. Just one day later I was able to coordinate our transportation back home.
This week I have opened my home to them. He has several healing but still open wounds on his feet and his risk of infection on a dirt floor is just too high. Both he and his mother will stay with me for his first 7-10 days. I am not taking Woodenschly away from his mother. I am not acting in place of his mother. He is a 7 year old with a loving mama and he needs nothing more in this time of healing than her care. I would never pretend to act like I could replace that, nor should I desire to. But, a pregnant single mother of 7 children with a job to sustain and a son healing from major surgery - she just needs extra hands. She needs someone to stay home with him and watch cartoons while she cooks for the rest of her children. She needs someone to help him with his PT while she works to keep her job. She needs a partner, so that becomes my work this week. To meet this family where they are, and help them in the midst of it. There is a Haitian saying - Men anpil chay pa lou - many hands make the load lighter. In this instance, that is my work. To be the extra hands, to carry half the load, to make it lighter so his mother can manage all that is asked of her.
This role looks different in every case. I don't often bring people into my home. Sometimes the appointments are big surgeries, sometimes it's finding urgent hospitalization, and sometimes it's just coordinating physical therapy for a malnourished child. Each case looks different, but the work is the same. To be an extra set of hands to carry the load that is already often too heavy. To be a bridge connecting families in need to resources that can meet those needs, and to walk it out alongside them. Haiti doesn't need people to come in and do the work for her. Haiti certainly doesn't need more hand outs, she's had about as many of those as she can handle. Haiti needs people to walk into relationship with families in need, and to empower them to meet those needs themselves. Woodenschly's mom couldn't afford a surgery, or know how to apply for a grant without internet, or know how to navigate the insane medical system in large Haitian hospitals. But she knows how to be an incredible mother, and she wants to help her son find healing in the same way any mother would. She just needs someone with connections to resources to come alongside her and empower her to do that work herself. As foreigners, we are never meant to take the load off of someone and carry it ourselves, or to find all the answers to problems we see; we are only meant to walk alongside them, and silently support those who are carrying a bit more than they can handle. We are not the heroes, we are only to be the quiet workers behind the scenes, so loving mothers can do what they do best. We are only meant to offer extra hands to a country already carrying a heavy load, yet more than capable of meeting its own needs.
