Today I got a call at 10-freakin-pm from my very jovial female tutor who, not surprisingly, is still in her office. And not surprisingly, she called about the Issue, and asked me to CC my pre-execution confession to the fieldwork module coordinator.
Of course, she didn't call it a 'pre-execution confession'. Anyway now to think of it, I'm neither going to be executed, nor have any need to confess anything. She says they are just going to "look into it". Very Aquarius-like in the detachment.
It appears that the stuff revolving around placement is so much more happening that what is happening in placement. After having terminated with 2 clients, there is nothing much to do except sit around and watch more VCDs and play Sudoku.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
pedantic much
Best social work student in ARtSYear2, my foot.
What does 'best' mean anyway? Number of As? Highest possibility of ending up in a low-paying, slavedriving job and burning out after 6 months? Successfully making all my clients cry in every session? What is it, exactly?
'Best' meaning currently most notorious, maybe.
Today I got a call from my fieldwork tutor. The very jovial woman sounded grave on the phone. She says she has talked to numerous people both in the social work field, and in the department, and she thinks that I have a problem because I'm really not supposed to be counselling agency staff. She thinks, the module coordinator thinks, the department head thinks.
Well, maybe 'thinks' is not the word. More like 'knows'.
And so my tutor tried to kick me out of my comfortable doing-nothing-ness and get me to do something about my problem. Emailing the department head, which I just did, felt like one of those long confession statements people sign just before they get executed. I don't think I'm being excessively melodramatic here. I really have a bad feeling about this. Feeling a bit like an ant stuck in a spider's web.
So, 'best' in terms of digging the deepest grave for myself, maybe.
Ah whatever. Just $100 more to spend on more graphic novels. There's nothing to complain about that.
What does 'best' mean anyway? Number of As? Highest possibility of ending up in a low-paying, slavedriving job and burning out after 6 months? Successfully making all my clients cry in every session? What is it, exactly?
'Best' meaning currently most notorious, maybe.
Today I got a call from my fieldwork tutor. The very jovial woman sounded grave on the phone. She says she has talked to numerous people both in the social work field, and in the department, and she thinks that I have a problem because I'm really not supposed to be counselling agency staff. She thinks, the module coordinator thinks, the department head thinks.
Well, maybe 'thinks' is not the word. More like 'knows'.
And so my tutor tried to kick me out of my comfortable doing-nothing-ness and get me to do something about my problem. Emailing the department head, which I just did, felt like one of those long confession statements people sign just before they get executed. I don't think I'm being excessively melodramatic here. I really have a bad feeling about this. Feeling a bit like an ant stuck in a spider's web.
So, 'best' in terms of digging the deepest grave for myself, maybe.
Ah whatever. Just $100 more to spend on more graphic novels. There's nothing to complain about that.
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
blow my mind
Two disturbing days in a row is not doing wonders to my psyche. After too long of appearing extremely euphoric and talkative, I have now sunk into some deep need for silence, this scary intense depressive state where I'm extremely antisocial and am perfectly ok with it. Which isn't ok at all.
What disturbed me yesterday is too disturbing to be blogged about.
What disturbed me today was the realisation (the second time already - first was in my first SW module) that these people are scarily clueless about their homophobia and sexism and racism and operate on some strange basis of even stranger assumptions, and I don't know how or why and I don't want to think that some poor unsuspecting soul might bear the brunt of this and I think this rant is not a very fair one and I should get over it, but I can't.
Because of the expectation that by this time or at least at this age, even if they are strongly homophobic, racist and/or sexist, they should at least know their stand/values and I think I'm expecting too much.
Maybe that's why brains are so attractive. I think I'm just naturally attracted to people with brains or at least some capacity for self reflection and analysis even if it's extremely self indulgent at times.
Somehow I have this sense of deja vu, like I've blogged about this before, but whatever, life goes round in circles.
What disturbed me yesterday is too disturbing to be blogged about.
What disturbed me today was the realisation (the second time already - first was in my first SW module) that these people are scarily clueless about their homophobia and sexism and racism and operate on some strange basis of even stranger assumptions, and I don't know how or why and I don't want to think that some poor unsuspecting soul might bear the brunt of this and I think this rant is not a very fair one and I should get over it, but I can't.
Because of the expectation that by this time or at least at this age, even if they are strongly homophobic, racist and/or sexist, they should at least know their stand/values and I think I'm expecting too much.
Maybe that's why brains are so attractive. I think I'm just naturally attracted to people with brains or at least some capacity for self reflection and analysis even if it's extremely self indulgent at times.
Somehow I have this sense of deja vu, like I've blogged about this before, but whatever, life goes round in circles.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Warm and Heavy (autogenics)
Incongruence - between seeing the cello and registering that I'm supposed to be a cellist, but feeling like a fake one. Between seeing this role that I'm supposed to playing, that of some iffy helper, when I don't even believe in my own ability to help. Maybe there is no help at all.
Anyway. Figured I should stop giving people the impression that attachment is going badly. After all, we just did a Cognitive Behaviour Therapy workshop on coping with negative emotions using movies and music. It was freakin' fun not just because we had an excuse to watch DVDs until our eyes popped, but because it was something we thought of on our own accord. It's like, raising a baby.
(Ok WRONG analogy, Stich is not a candidate for sperm donation at all. Eww.)
And anyway, if the workshop is going to be called a 'baby', it's probably an illegitimate child born because of the "no choice lor.." mentality. Stich says that it's MY "brainchild", and I don't understand why he sees the need to disassociate from it. The workshop didn't go badly at all, except for the fact that people got restless during his segment and needed a pee break. 6 people came on 6/6/06, which was more than expected, and nothing seemed particularly jinxed even though the thunder and lightning did add to the special effects especially during our Fear Segment.
But on the bright side I got a second client, as a result of shameless selling of self, and this is a really really cool case. Or so I think.
Finally I see the point of all that waiting. After spending weeks holed up reading book after book on all sorts of therapies, everything seems to be falling in place, and suddenly I find myself using stuff from everywhere, and almost knowing what to use at what time. It fell together during the group session during the workshop and the metaphorical lightbulb flashed and I suddenly stopped thinking in theories and started thinking in human terms. It sounds abstract and unintelligible and I don't know how to describe it exactly, but it feels like your body i settling into a huge bean bag, and not the one that warms very fast; this one remains comfortably cool.
Anyway. Figured I should stop giving people the impression that attachment is going badly. After all, we just did a Cognitive Behaviour Therapy workshop on coping with negative emotions using movies and music. It was freakin' fun not just because we had an excuse to watch DVDs until our eyes popped, but because it was something we thought of on our own accord. It's like, raising a baby.
(Ok WRONG analogy, Stich is not a candidate for sperm donation at all. Eww.)
And anyway, if the workshop is going to be called a 'baby', it's probably an illegitimate child born because of the "no choice lor.." mentality. Stich says that it's MY "brainchild", and I don't understand why he sees the need to disassociate from it. The workshop didn't go badly at all, except for the fact that people got restless during his segment and needed a pee break. 6 people came on 6/6/06, which was more than expected, and nothing seemed particularly jinxed even though the thunder and lightning did add to the special effects especially during our Fear Segment.
But on the bright side I got a second client, as a result of shameless selling of self, and this is a really really cool case. Or so I think.
Finally I see the point of all that waiting. After spending weeks holed up reading book after book on all sorts of therapies, everything seems to be falling in place, and suddenly I find myself using stuff from everywhere, and almost knowing what to use at what time. It fell together during the group session during the workshop and the metaphorical lightbulb flashed and I suddenly stopped thinking in theories and started thinking in human terms. It sounds abstract and unintelligible and I don't know how to describe it exactly, but it feels like your body i settling into a huge bean bag, and not the one that warms very fast; this one remains comfortably cool.
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