Volunteering and Healing

Over the summer I completed training to become a Court Appointed Special Advocate for children displaced through dependency, neglect, or abuse.  I became a volunteer because my mother and her nine siblings were taken into state custody in 1945.  I've seen the result of a broken system and have personal scars as a result of effects on my mother.  The ten children were separated.  Some were adopted, some lived in orphanages until high school graduation.  I met several of them, but only knew two, and them vaguely.  I met a couple cousins once.

Today I sent in my first court report for a hearing later this month.  I felt the tears welling up as I hit send.  I felt the weight of the responsibility.  I wonder about the long term effects of what I recommended and will later have to testify to in court.  I didn't realize how difficult it would be.  How heavy the weight would be.  Fifty years from now I don't want the children of the children I'll be appointed to along the way to say I screwed up and they bear the scars as a result.

I am assigned one or two cases at a time.  Social Workers have 30, 40, 50?  I'm sure she was diligent and did what she could in good faith and in the best interest of my mother, my aunts, and my uncles.  I think it's time I let up on the social worker who did what she felt was best for my mother.  Maybe it's time to let that pain go.