2ndclepunkbuddha

This week I found out that someone from my past died in February of this year.  I said I wasn't going to acknowledge it, but, like we all know, life is complicated.  It makes you think of other things and what you should and should not do, the mistakes we all make, and decisions for the better or for the worse.  Out of respect for her family (if she had any friends I would respect them as well, but she didn't seem to have any) I will not mention even her first name, as they may not have been aware of certain things she was or was not doing.  Still, I think there are some things that need to be said for everyone out there and have to come out of me about this.  I will call her Jane. Jane and I went to high school together, she was two years ahead of me.  We didn't know each other during the time we were in high school, she and I reconnected a few years after when she called begging for money to give to the institution.  For some reason, we connected o...

As always, as the year approaches its end, I take the time out to reflect upon the changes and things learned in the past year.  This was quite a dramatic year for me, both personally and professionally.  I am happy to say that I learned a lot from it and I am truly in a better place because of it.  First, a look at the professional changes : I managed to switch roles quite often this year professionally.  I started off the year by becoming a home health aid.  A former coworker from the group home in which I worked recommended it to me and I went through the online training, then spent a whole month and a half at the job.  I learned rather quickly with the home health aid thing (like a lot of jobs in the social work / nursing world) that they are not good things because of the abuse you suffer and disorganization.  It's an alright gig if you just want to sit on your can all day watching movies on your laptop (which I did 80% of the time when the clie...

Today while having a chat with a former coworker, I found out that a man I was taking care of two years ago at the group home where I worked died recently.  I had quit the job nearly two years ago, I only kept up with the former coworker, but there were a few times I would give the residents of the group home a thought or two.  What's sad about working with the developmentally disabled is aplenty.  In short, the social work bureaucracy is beyond horrible - if you are working for them on a PRN / optional basis (such as being a substitute teacher or a job coach), one day they will just forget about you.  They will just never call or text you again, and if and when you reach out to them, they just won't respond and move onto the next person.  If you work for them on a full time basis at part time hours (such as being a direct support professional at the group home where I was) when you will be working crazy hours and worked to death, they will treat you badly and f...

In the first quarter of this year, like a lot of people, I was looking to make certain changes.  As I was unable to live primarily on a multi district substitute teacher's income, I took a second job in order to make a living.  During the fall semester of my first year of substitute teaching, I was working at a group home for the developmentally disabled (most weekday mornings and every other weekend on during the day shift).  It was an alright job - I was a babysitter for 12 mild/moderate adults who were living semi-independently and just needed some minimal to medium assistance in doing everyday tasks (driving a car, grocery shopping, cooking, etc.).  The primary thing they needed was to have someone pass out their meds first thing in the morning before they left for work on the weekdays or when they got up on the weekends.  Financially it was profitable, but as I would find out in working in the social work world, things would change like that.  If you a...

Just the other day I was on Facebook (as everyone else is constantly) and got a notice that I had been added to a group.   This was a secret group.   It popped up in the lower left corner of the screen, I was doing something else and by the time it registered with me that it had happened, the bubble disappeared.   Upon double checking things, I was rather surprised for a variety of reasons that a secret group had been created for my upcoming 25 th high school reunion, which will be next spring/summer.   25 already?   It seems like just yesterday I was just anticipating going to my 20 th reunion.   And being sorely disappointed with it.                     I was in an usual feeling for the event, as I’m sure all are if and when they decide to go to their reunions.   I remembered thinking to myself once I had returned from the high school graduation cere...

Last weekend I went to a funeral in Detroit.  It was for my childhood friend's father, a kind man and a wonderful soul I was privileged to know, and it was of great sadness that I heard of his passing.  I insisted on going to the funeral even though it was a ways to travel, but I believe in this principal and follow through on it completely: When people die, you go to their funerals.  It says to you and others around you that you are there to pay your last respects to that person and that you cared for that person no matter what did or did not happen. But this blog is not about my friend's father, it was about another situation that presented itself at the event.  I was nearly sickened to see that someone else showed up at this man's funeral when I saw him across the room.  I quickly looked away and did not make eye contact.  I didn't want to be near him.  I have no idea if he saw me at all, and if he did he would probably play the avoiding game if h...

Last summer as well as this, and into the fall, I took a job that changed me.  I fully admit, I did not do my homework, I was just randomly answering ads for employment once I put certain words in the search engine, it appeared, and I answered it.  I walked into the elementary school where the summer program was taking place, and was shocked.  This was a summer program working with the developmentally disabled population, the student population age ranged from that of preschoolers to the early/mid twenties.  The ambulatory ones were only a few (confined to wheelchairs and walkers), but most were mobile.  And they were either suffering from autism or a form of mental retardation.  It gave me pause as it would anyone.  Our first reaction when we see a person like that in public is a feeling of fear, then replaced by a sadness.  Having never been around people like this before, I had never gotten to the third phase of feeling about them, which is won...