Showing posts with label Masters of Social Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Masters of Social Work. Show all posts

Thursday, June 8, 2017

Drowning in academic hopelessness

Why I thought taking a short 8 week class (during May and June) would be a good idea, I will never know.  I'm working full time.  I have contract work on the side.  I volunteer.  I have a family, friends, my niece (who likely thinks I no longer exist), and responsibilities.

I wanted this class.  It combines all the things I want to do with my degree and my career.  Canadian social policy, critical Indigenous thinking, and domestic violence intervention.

In 8 weeks.

What was I thinking?

Each week, I have slogged through hundreds and hundreds of pages of reading, cramming my mind full of information and new ways of thinking.  Learning the things I should have known and expanding on some that I did.

What have I learned most?

The Canadian government has been A-HOLES to Indigenous people.  For hundreds and hundreds of years.

I always knew this on some level.  I was taught about Residential Schools and treaties and oppressive government workers and systems (Thanks, Mrs. Gellner!).  I watched mini-series and read books and listened to adults talk.  My heart ached as a child for the people who I thought were so lovely that nothing bad should ever have happened to them.

But I didn't actually know the bad.  Not all of it.  Not even most of it.  After all, I was only a kid and they try not to scar you that early.

Now I am in a quagmire of despair and pain and confusion.  Not only has the Canadian government been horrible, but the profession that I love has been an instrument of further oppression and pain and condescension.  How can I, with my trusty Human Justice and Social Work degrees and great plans to "help people", continue on?

How am I going to write a paper for this class now that everything seems hopeless?

I mean, the Government over the last 50+ years has issued study after study, commission after commission, paper after paper.  It has spent thousands (though cumulatively now likely millions and millions) of dollars "studying the problem" and getting recommendations.

Hundreds and hundreds of recommendations.  All saying almost entirely the same thing.

They are all saying and/or have all said, "Hey Canada, you're a dick to the Indigenous people. Here's how you can be better."

But guess what?

Canada NEVER EVER DECIDES TO BE BETTER.

Okay, that may be a little over-generalizing, but it's not far from the truth.  The Canadian government gets these great recommendations - ones that will make a real difference - and then they (it?) decide they don't want to do most of them.  Then the government puts a couple of paltry recommendations into place and are shocked - SHOCKED - when things aren't fixed.

What?? How are you not all better now?

Here are the main things I've learned (or relearned):

  1. Many of those who signed treaties and moved to reserves did so because the White people killed all the game in the area and people were starving.  The government made it a policy to ONLY FEED THE PEOPLE WHO SIGNED AND MOVED.  And, at that, they only fed them every other day to make sure they remained compliant. (Clearing the Plains, 2013)
  2. The government worried that Indigenous people being self-sufficient would mean they would interfere with Canadian settlements and so made sure they were not allowed to or able to do any work. (Clearing the Plains, 2013)
  3. The government decided who actually belonged to Indigenous culture. Can you imagine if the government got to decide who was allowed to go to your church or come to your family reunions or live on your street? (The Indian Act, 1885)
  4. Then, if someone did not comply with the government rules of who was Indigenous (i.e.: marrying "your own kind" or living on the reserves) the government made them sign their rights away. (Accounting for Genocide, 2004)
  5. Children were taken away from their parents as young as 3 -5 years old and did not see their family for up to 8 or more years.  These children were put in schools and not allowed to talk to their own siblings. (The Circle Game,  2006)
  6. Children were beaten and raped and killed and starved by religious groups "educating" them.  Anyone who spoke out against what was happening was fired or transferred. (The Circle Game,  2006)
  7. Full self-government was encouraged in a report in the 1960s, but Indigenous people were not even allowed to run their own farms until 1990s. (Hawthorn Report, 1966)
  8. There was a commission that encouraged special status and full self-government and instead the government planned to delete all status and have severely micromanaged involvement in government. (Hawthorn Report, 1966; The White Paper, 1969)
  9. Children en masse were removed from reserves in the 60s and given to White families.  In some cases, up to 90% of children on the reserve were removed from their families.  (The 60s Scoop)
  10. Indigenous women are at risk of violence at least 3 times that of any other woman in Canada. They are 5 times more likely to die.  And!! More often by the hand of strangers than other women.  (Missing and Murdered Aboriginal Women)
There is more.  SO MUCH MORE.  I am exhausted by it all.  Now I have 18 days to write a paper about domestic violence and social policy. 

Every time I think I have a research question, my mind comes up with some reason there is NO POINT TO ANY OF THIS.  My mind has a completely valid point. 

My question is this: how, after all that has happened, can I make a difference in the lives of anyone who is suffering not only from domestic violence, but also societal violence, racism, sexism, poverty, addictions, trauma, and a country who regularly makes the WORST decisions for you and your communities?

How can you help one thing without addressing all the other inequalities?  The answer is that you can't.

Here is the problem.

Our government, past and present and likely future (and the people who voted them in), do not want to address all of the inequalities.  Instead, they implement limited recourse with limited funds and then blame the individual for something that has been centuries in the making.





Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Imposter syndrome settling in fast: a tale of Masters woe

It is late at night and I should be awake in a few hours so I can get back to work. Since I know it will take longer to get to morning if I am awake for it, I have chosen to wait it out.

I have entered the realm of "completing my Masters" panic where I have a paper due soon and I have no idea what I'm doing or how long it will take to do it.

notes, organized, studying

I have often heard my family members (sisters and cousin) and friends complain about the workload of doing a Masters. I heard them bemoan the sleepless nights, looming deadlines, and set-in of panic, but I thought it couldn't be that bad. Tough yes, but not paralyzing.

I would like to apologize.

Now of course I am working full time, heavily involved in my union, working as a consultant a few times a month, and volunteering in my free time. Add to that my social life (occasional wing nights and suppers with my husband) with my copious amounts of recorded TV shows and trashy romance novels I want to read and I am having a bit of time management issues.

I assume everyone else also responds to this by napping and/or playing games on their phone.


Part of my lack of confidence lies in the significant time that has passed since I have been in the world of academia. When I last wrote a term paper, I had to research using card catalogues. I painstakingly jotted quotes and ideas on recipe cards so I could tape them together in as an outline before I wrote. I used a shared computer in a lab where I stood in line for 45 minutes so I could work for 2 hours.

I also walked uphill both ways.

I am lucky in a few ways. I have written case reports, agency evaluations, project proposals, and more in the over 15 years since I last exited the hallowed halls of school and swore on my mother that I would never return. I am lucky to have written anything resembling intelligent thought in the time between.

I am also lucky as I have my father's gift of bullshit where if one speaks confidently and without pause one sounds like they know much more than they do. (I'm not speaking out of school here, it's one of his favour things.)

However, as I sit here in front of the computer, I don't actually want to do these things. I want to eat ice cream in the pantry with a large spoon while the dog sits outside the door and wonders why I won't share.

Thankfully, we're out of ice cream.