After 37 years in social work I had nothing left to give
Endless budget cuts and seeing my staff sink under a pressure I couldn’t alleviate became too much, so I took early retirement
Anonymous. The Guardian (2015). Retrieved from: http://www.theguardian.com/social-care-network/social-life-blog/2015/sep/02/social-work-pressure-early-retirement
When I tell people I have taken early retirement from social work
they usually say “lucky you”. I just smile, because the decision to
leave a permanent post in a profession to which I have given 37 years of
my life was both frightening and emotionally draining. So why did I do
it?
I qualified in my mid-twenties when the certificate of qualification in social work took 11 months to complete. I would never recommend this length of training, but what made up for it was the freedom to learn on the job. I didn’t have lots of admin to do, so could be out all day working with service users. I dropped notes off at the end of the day which were typed up for me to check whenever I returned. I had line managers with the time to help me plan and debrief from visits. I was never frightened about talking about my gut instinct or saying that I might have made a wrong decision, as this was seen as a learning opportunity.
I remember a stable, confident and enthusiastic workforce with lots of experienced social workers, who would accompany me on visits and were always available for advice. It would be easy to look back with rose tinted spectacles but, to be fair, it wasn’t all rosy. A child could be placed on the child protection register without a parent’s knowledge; there was no real recognition of sexual abuse or the impact of emotional abuse on children; and there was very little join-up between services. So there have been positive changes in practice over the decades.
I have always embraced this change and I have been blessed with a level of emotional resilience and a good sense of humour that has sustained me. However, over the last few years the energy I needed as a senior manager to try to maintain standards of practice while endlessly cutting budgets and being under intense scrutiny has taken its toll. On an emotional level, watching my staff sinking under a pressure I couldn’t alleviate, while trying to reassure them that it would get better when I wasn’t sure it would, brought me to a tipping point.
Outside of work I was spending a lot of time with an osteopath who told me I had chronic neck and back problems related to stress. Then came a Sunday when the family rang to say they would be arriving earlier than planned for a holiday. I cried and said that that if I couldn’t work all day I could not have the leave I had planned – even though I had already worked a 60-hour week, which had become the norm. The final straw came some weeks later when I was sent on a course for future directors. I broke down again and told the course leader I had nothing left to give.
This might all sound dramatic, but it led to an honest discussion with my line manager. I was lucky to have worked for the same local authority for 17 years so my concerns about being burnt out were taken seriously. Luck was on my side, as the service had decided to fund a post for 18 months to concentrate solely on the workforce. They offered me this job and then asked if I would like to be considered for early retirement. After more crying and discussion with family and friends I said yes. Interestingly, no one told me to say no.
During that last 18 months I regained my energy and passion. I was in a role where I could be creative and make mistakes without being pilloried. I was working directly with frontline staff, service users and stakeholders to redesign the workforce and I was energised again through working with so many creative and passionate people. I also realised that, like me, their commitment was being worn down by the burden of unrealistic expectations. Selfish as it may seem, I didn’t have any doubts about my decision to leave.
Having retired with energy restored I knew I couldn’t just give up. I retained my social work registration, and have been doing a mixture of different roles in the sector. I can now say yes or no to work I am offered, and I get a real sense of job satisfaction as I can actually complete pieces of work. I count myself lucky to have had an employer who valued me enough to listen and give me an option to use my skills in a different way. It is my way of giving back to the profession at a time when so many experienced social workers are leaving.
I qualified in my mid-twenties when the certificate of qualification in social work took 11 months to complete. I would never recommend this length of training, but what made up for it was the freedom to learn on the job. I didn’t have lots of admin to do, so could be out all day working with service users. I dropped notes off at the end of the day which were typed up for me to check whenever I returned. I had line managers with the time to help me plan and debrief from visits. I was never frightened about talking about my gut instinct or saying that I might have made a wrong decision, as this was seen as a learning opportunity.
I remember a stable, confident and enthusiastic workforce with lots of experienced social workers, who would accompany me on visits and were always available for advice. It would be easy to look back with rose tinted spectacles but, to be fair, it wasn’t all rosy. A child could be placed on the child protection register without a parent’s knowledge; there was no real recognition of sexual abuse or the impact of emotional abuse on children; and there was very little join-up between services. So there have been positive changes in practice over the decades.
I have always embraced this change and I have been blessed with a level of emotional resilience and a good sense of humour that has sustained me. However, over the last few years the energy I needed as a senior manager to try to maintain standards of practice while endlessly cutting budgets and being under intense scrutiny has taken its toll. On an emotional level, watching my staff sinking under a pressure I couldn’t alleviate, while trying to reassure them that it would get better when I wasn’t sure it would, brought me to a tipping point.
Outside of work I was spending a lot of time with an osteopath who told me I had chronic neck and back problems related to stress. Then came a Sunday when the family rang to say they would be arriving earlier than planned for a holiday. I cried and said that that if I couldn’t work all day I could not have the leave I had planned – even though I had already worked a 60-hour week, which had become the norm. The final straw came some weeks later when I was sent on a course for future directors. I broke down again and told the course leader I had nothing left to give.
This might all sound dramatic, but it led to an honest discussion with my line manager. I was lucky to have worked for the same local authority for 17 years so my concerns about being burnt out were taken seriously. Luck was on my side, as the service had decided to fund a post for 18 months to concentrate solely on the workforce. They offered me this job and then asked if I would like to be considered for early retirement. After more crying and discussion with family and friends I said yes. Interestingly, no one told me to say no.
During that last 18 months I regained my energy and passion. I was in a role where I could be creative and make mistakes without being pilloried. I was working directly with frontline staff, service users and stakeholders to redesign the workforce and I was energised again through working with so many creative and passionate people. I also realised that, like me, their commitment was being worn down by the burden of unrealistic expectations. Selfish as it may seem, I didn’t have any doubts about my decision to leave.
Having retired with energy restored I knew I couldn’t just give up. I retained my social work registration, and have been doing a mixture of different roles in the sector. I can now say yes or no to work I am offered, and I get a real sense of job satisfaction as I can actually complete pieces of work. I count myself lucky to have had an employer who valued me enough to listen and give me an option to use my skills in a different way. It is my way of giving back to the profession at a time when so many experienced social workers are leaving.
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