Tell me your life story in 5 minutes or less.

I cried at work today.  Actually, I cried yesterday as well. I find myself getting more passionate and emotional around work related issues lately.  Let's explore.

You know, when I started working at this job, supporting people on low incomes through financial literacy training programs, I didn't think that I was that involved in the social issue of poverty.  I first entered social work because of my travel experiences in poverty stricken countries and my heart always went out to immigrants and refugees living in Canada.  Let's face it, most immigrants and refugees go through some form of poverty in Canada as newcomers.

Yesterday, I held a bunch of one to one interviews with my program participants that are now at their half way point of their one year program.  This is honestly the best part of my job, but it can also be the most emotionally draining for me.  I don't know what it is, but I have this effect on people that allows them to open up and share freely about themselves, their lives, their successes, and of course, their struggles through life, past and current ones.  It all starts with my opening question, "Tell me your life story in 5 minutes or less".

Of course, some will keep it simple and share only small portions of their story. And others, well, they take the opportunity to actually open up and release some inner pain and anguish that perhaps they've been holding on to for quite some time. There is something powerful in letting someone just talk freely while someone sits on the other side of that round table and just simply listens.

Yesterday, as in the past, I listened to some courageous individuals tell some horrific tales of despair.  I am in awe of them. I am honoured to know them. I am proud to be a part of their lives. The one thing that is so common among them is their resiliency to keep going. Their strength to find the positive aspects within their darkened situations.

And so yesterday I cried a little. I cried when the refugee woman whom I've known for the last 6 months told me about how her 8 year old son stood beside his father and while he was murdered in their war torn country and sat with him for the next 10 hours until help arrived. I almost cried when the single mother was telling me how she was almost being evicted, yet again, but she told me with a smile on her face and with pride in her soul. I almost cried when the professional immigrant told me how she left her home country because she found the bravery to leave her husband after he emotionally abused her and that she had to lose custody to her only son because in her country there is no such thing as joint custody.

And today, today I cried as well. I cried because my one participant who has applied into a high profile program and has a heart of gold, will not be accepted into the program despite all of his hard work and efforts.  This man is like a buddha, so serene and positive, sending positive thoughts and gratitude everywhere he goes.  So, I haven't told him yet, but as a committee we have made the decision that it is not in his best long term interest to be a part of my program.  However, after our committee meeting, as I was wrapping up to go home due to my on-coming illness creeping in, my two co-workers pop up at my door with excitement.  They bear a gift for me, a small box with a happy face balloon, a card, and some candy.  I wonder, what the heck am I getting a gift for?  I open it, and lo and behold it is from the buddha.  He graduates on Monday and wanted to give me a thank you gift for being his teacher for the last year and goes on to tell me how wonderful of a soul I have.  And so, I cried.  I cried perhaps due to guilt because I know that I will have to eventually give him that dreaded phone call that he probably knows deep down will be coming.  I cried because he himself is the wonderful soul. He inspires me, and the beauty of it, the beauty of all the participants I encounter at my work, inspire me to be a better person, to be strong, resilient, and positive.

I sometimes wonder if I am the only one like this at my work.  Do my other colleagues not face the same challenges as I do?  Do I not practice enough boundaries with my participants?  Should I not have deep conversations about their life in our interviews, whereby I won't fully understand them as a person, and consequently not be able to support them achieve their goals?  Am I simply too emotional?  Is it wrong to be passionate and show compassion to others?  At what point do I build a thick skin, or cease to care? Are those two the same thing?  Am I on the edge of burn out? Would my job be as rewarding if I didn't care?

I don't have any regrets. I wish I could wave a magic wand and solve all their problems, but where would be the life appreciation in that?  We need struggles in life in order to appreciate the good stuff, correct?  After all, that's what brought me to social work in the first place, my own struggles with my identity.  And so, I'll go back to work on Monday. I'll have my graduation with my other class that's finished their 1 year and I'll tell them what I've told you today.  I'll tell them that they inspire me and help to me grow in ways that they may never realize.  I'll tell them that they are resilient human beings ready to conquer anything that comes their way.  And then I'll wish, and hope, and maybe even pray, that they truly do succeed and that I don't hear that their struggles have continued after they've gone through this life changing program.