This is my last week of maternity leave and this morning, both of my kids went to daycare for a few hours for a test run. I've had several people ask me how I'm feeling about going back to work and quite honestly, I'm never sure how to reply to this question. I'm actually really ready. Am I a bad mom for being eager for this transition? (Rhetorical question because I know the answer is no but even in 2017 there are some people who hold "traditional values" when it comes to women's roles in society/home). Don't get me wrong, I have loved being home with Jade, and I will miss our mornings of watching the Today Show and cuddling. For the first time ever I feel like we've found a "groove" of maintaining our house, making meals, laundry, etc. Routine is good and I'm sure we will struggle to create a new routine when I return to work because working full time and maintaining a household is so hard. Cliche, but there are not enough hours in the day and the few hours Austin and I have to ourselves after the kids go to bed are not spent most enjoyably folding laundry.
Yet, I'm ready. When I left to go on maternity leave I left a caseload of about 16 kids. This is the most I've ever disconnected from work in, well, forever. I haven't checked work e-mails. I've logged into my tablet once to view a check (also ready to go back to work, because a paycheck sounds really great right about now and still unbelievable to me that in 2017, we still don't support families who grow their families by providing any sort of paid leave), and I've only gotten one personal call about work because of a case that hit the media. I've thought about my cases, my kids, several times since going on leave but haven't been felt a need to micromanage the caseload while nurturing a newborn. It's been great (I think this is what they call self-care and boundaries while in social work school?) I'm refreshed, and ready. A video my mom shared on Facebook a few nights ago reminded me why. Austin and I were recently watching the movie Gone Baby Gone and one quote that stuck with me was, "I work with people who were born in the cracks and are falling through." Yes. Yes. Yes. All the yeses. I work with kids that were born in the cracks and are falling through. Unfortunately, but in some ways, thankfully, they have come to the attention of the juvenile justice system, which has MASSIVE issues of power and privilege but, BUT has TONS of resources and really good probation officers (I love my coworkers, they love their work and stand in the gap for kids who have no one else). I'm ready to go back because I miss the important work when I go to work. I don't have a single worry about my kids going to daycare, our provider is incredible. I know my kids will be fed, clothed, well taken care of, and most importantly, loved. Our provider recognizes what Nick's strengths are and enforces them. They communicate to me on a daily basis that they love his sense of humor and joy. He has people in his corner. The kids I work with don't. They sometimes miss school because they don't have a clean uniform to wear. They sometimes don't know where their next meal is coming from and many don't have sheets on their beds. I have one kid with an intact family, all the rest don't have father figures in the home or strong male role models. There are long histories of incarceration and law involvement. I want to be in their corner. I recognize all of the privileges that have led me to my current position. I lived in a two-parent, upper-middle class home, went to private school, had access to higher education, lived in a safe neighborhood, and never once worried about money, meals, or my phone being shut off. Being allowed in their corner is hard. Their neighbors think I'm CPS, there is stigma, there is fear about being associated with law enforcement. I'm white, and come dressed in "court clothes." Tons and tons of barriers that we try to overcome together. It doesn't always work. I spoke out about my annoyance with my student forgiveness program, a relatively safe political topic. I've stayed clear of all of the NFL kneeling/racism conversations because that isn't as safe but I've felt really guilty about it. There are so many memes I've wanted to like or share, the Rosa Parks comparison was my favorite, as well as the "do you stand for the national anthem in your living room" one. The main reason I didn't share those things is because they don't change people's minds and typically cause further division. It's not fair to be silent about it. That's being irresponsible with my privilege. Before maternity leave, I showed a documentary to my kids about mass incarceration/modern day slavery of African American males. You know the only comment that was made afterward, "Why did you show this to us. You know it's not going to change anyway." Silence. My kids feel hopeless. They aren't seeking attention when they say they are afraid of being stopped by law enforcement. Another kid commented, "It's better to be rich and innocent, then black, poor, and innocent, and we are poor." Ouch. We can do better. If a 15-year-old gets it, why can't the rest of us? Racism is real. If you don't understand why people are kneeling for the nation anthem I want you spend one day with my kids, getting on public transit earlier than 6 AM to catch the bus, because if you miss the first bus you miss free breakfast. You might have befriended a stellar teacher who keeps pop tarts just in case you miss breakfast, but you might not. Not worth the gamble. From there you navigate a mess of a public school system who has a long-term Spanish sub who doesn't speak Spanish. Teachers wonder why you're tired, not knowing you've been in and out of sleep a majority of the night because sometimes your mom has adult friends who throw parties on the school nights. Some teachers, the superheros who have the hardest job, are compassionate towards you but also don't know how to keep letting you pass when you have a 1st grade reading level but are in 10th grade. Other teachers view you as lazy or cocky. Then you catch the bus home, and are parentified so you don't do your homework, you take care of your siblings because your mom works second shift. Or, you didn't go to school because you are the childcare provider for your siblings while your mom goes to work. Then you get "locked up" for missing school, or have to go in front of a judge for a probation violation. All of these examples are real stories, not one is a stereotype I'm using to make a point. Sadly, I could go on and on and on. I've got work to do come Monday and everyday, and so do you. What important work can you be part of to help bridge the gaps of racial, educational, and socio-economic disparities?
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Hi! I'm Haley. Archives
May 2019
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