Social Work Internship

I wrote a piece for the Uganda Studies Program Social Work Department. It's just about my experiences at my internship and what I have learned from doing my internship abroad. 

           Over the last four months, I have been doing my social work practicum at a Compassion International site, Seeta Child Development Center. I can honestly say that my practicum was my favorite part of my experience in Uganda. Over the last few months, I learned a lot about social work, Uganda, and myself.

            I could have never imagined the learning experience I would gain from doing my internship abroad. Social Work is a very “Western” career. In the States, we have strict protocol as to how to do everything. We have a lot of theory and a lot of ideals. On a clinical level, we are very individualistic. We focus on the client at hand and attempt to know every detail of his or her life. One of the greatest challenges and best experiences was taking my American, higher education, book knowledge and theory, and applying to a situation on the other side of the world. Some things sound great on paper, but do not play out well due to the fact that the theory is tailored to a Western culture.

            One prominent aspect of Ugandan culture is community. This aspect is a bit interesting in a social work setting. One of my first “counseling” sessions with a child was with about three extra adults in the room. According to the social workers, this is normal. This is what the community does. Everyone knows everything about everyone else and the value of the advice increases with the number of people reiterating it. From my context, this is not what you do. “Counseling” is done in privacy, or in a group of people struggling with the same thing, not in a community setting. However, as I was immersed in the culture, I began to realize just how much community affected the lives of the children with whom I was working. In a conversation with a co-worker, I learned that a lot of the children are orphaned or abandoned. The extended family or the community will take in the children. It is a community and a familial duty. He was appalled at the idea of a foster care system, where strangers take in children.
            It was also interesting to see the similarities. Social work is still social work, no matter where you are on the globe. As my supervisor said, “Social Workers do everything. Everything is in the job description”. That could not have been said better. It seems as though social work agencies are always understaffed and underfunded; yet they still thrive and they still make a difference in their communities. I learned so much about the diversity and the flexibility of social work. I learned how it changes in culture. I learned how it functions on nothing. I saw dedication to hope, faith, and love in ways I have never seen before. I learned how the social work values, service, social justice, dignity and worth of a person, importance of human relationships, integrity, and competence can be universally applied, even when cultural norms are vastly different.

            

"I want to hold your hand"

Sometimes, even when you're 21, you might need someone to hold your hand in new situations. In Uganda, people hold hands as a way to be friends. It's a bit confusing, because lovers do not hold hands, it's a friendly thing... So discernment gets a little tricky. I experienced this phenomenon many times over my home stay in Mukono.

The first day I was with my family, my oldest sister took me to buy minutes for my phone. She held my hand the whole time. It seemed to be more of a precautionary measure rather than a friendly gesture. I really cannot blame her, though. If I had a foreigner in my care, I would probably exercise extra care as well. My independent spirit was slightly wounded because I know how to get to town and how to buy minutes for my phone. However, I went along as though I literally knew nothing. I knew that attempting to win would only be damaging to the relationship.

The next day I went to church with my host dad. He took me by the hand and walked me all the way to the front of the church and showed me to my seat. Then, I sat in that exact same spot for the next six and a half hours. Apparently, as I found out later, my family forgot me, or they lost me... even though I never moved. I don't actually know what happened, I just know I was forgotten at church for six and a half hours.

The next two weeks were quite interesting and quite humbling. I attempted to help cook the one day, and it took a lot of persuasion to convince my host mom to let me use a knife. As I cut up the cabbage, my host mom asked me if I had ever used a knife before. I said yes, I had, many, many times. I cooked and cleaned in the U.S. at my house and at school. My host dad, in great shock, looked at me and said, "WHAT!? We thought you have machines to do everything for you!" I was a bit shocked at this presumption and a little bit offended I was thought to be that helpless. Once again, I was humbled by the perceptions held of me. From day one, I was only allowed to rinse the dishes (No, I was not allowed to wash them) and cut up cabbage.

Never Again...

Outside of the concentration camps in Austria and Germany, there's a sign. On this sign, in many different languages, it simply says, "Never Again". After spending ten days in Rwanda, I wish that promise had been kept and the voice of justice and peace would have rung true.

Before we even left on this journey to Rwanda, we spent some time talking about it and we watched a documentary. During the video, it talked about the makings, the warning signs, the beginnings, the full on horror, and the current reconciliation projects. They also talked about the U.N. and the western nations which debated what "genocide" actually meant and if Rwanda was a genocide or something else. They debated while over 800,000 people lost their lives in a blood bath.  Just watching the documentary was enough to make my heart break.

Genocide is always ugly. It is always a representation of the darkness in the human heart. However, Rwanda was different. It was a genocide the effects every corner of the country. The killing was done by neighbors, childhood friends, and fellow church-goers. One of the most horrifying experience of my life was standing in a Church where over ten thousand people were murdered. The churches were thought to be a refuge, but those who worshiped together then killed each other in the same place.

I knew the story of Rwanda well. However, I had no idea what being here, in the building, walking through the mass grave, and hearing stories from those who lived through it would do to me. It literally changed my heart in ways I do not even understand yet.

I also was hit by the fact that this happened in my lifetime. Darfur happened in my life time. The LRA and child soldiers happened in my life time. This isn't ancient history. This is history for my generation, too. In the movie Hotel Rwanda, a news reporter got footage of the massacre. They ask him if he can get it out to the world and help them. He looks at them and says something to the effect of, I'm sorry, but the western world will see this on their tv's and say "oh, that's sad, and go back to eating their dinners."

I never want to be so desensitized that I can see such an injustice and simply go back to eating my dinner.

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.
O, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life.

To Africa, To Africa

The last time I wrote on this blog, I was headed home from Thailand. I had lived there for nine months and I figured my traveling days were over for the next few years... at least. But then, out of no where, I got an amazing opportunity. I have always wanted to go to Africa, but it didn't seem like it was going to happen anytime soon. However, God directed me once again to go overseas for a few months. Thankfully, I have wonderful traveling buddy and friend, Anna, and we are headed to Uganda tomorrow and I am excited to see what God has to teach me this time. We will be there for about 4 months. We also get to travel to Rwanda for about a week, Paris for 3 days, and London for 10 hours. Needless to say, it will be an experience.

This adventure is a study abroad program which offers a social work internship overseas. So, while I'm there, I will be interning and going to university. I'm guessing I will be doing many other things as well. If I've learned anything from travel, it's that expectations are completely unnecessary. The best way to enter a new culture is in a humble manner, ready to learn. Because, let's be real, until one actually experiences a specific culture, he or she cannot be an expert... Which can be really unnerving. So, Ugandan culture awaits me and I am very, very excited to learn new things and to be laughed at constantly (... That just goes with the territory).

So, here I go... Again. In life, we generally think that the more we do something, the easier it gets. I have officially arrived at the conclusion that leaving isn't one of those things. The more I go, the harder it becomes... But I have full confidence that this is where I should be going and this is what I should be doing. I'm praying for peace. I'm praying for trust. I'm praying for safety. I'm praying that we can be a vessel for the love of Jesus. I'm praying for good relationship once we meet the rest of the students. If anyone wants to join me in praying for these things, we would appreciate it.

I am most certain there will be many more posts to come!