Now, after the previous post (and the one before it) – you must be ready for some good news!
The good news is that many families in the Focus Group have members who possess strength, intelligence, wisdom and sense of humour, which (though, sometimes, not immediately evident) can be identified and encouraged by a perceptive, tenacious, committed, properly trained and supported worker, regardless of the context within which the work is taking place, e .g. whether a voluntary or statutory agency, within prison or outside.
Many of these qualities come from developing extraordinary coping mechanisms from a very young age, to survive the very challenging conditions in situations of extreme difficulty and indeed trauma that are faced daily and described above.
If we practitioners are open to hearing it, members of families in the Focus Group, (particularly members who are involved in crime, addiction, who may be homeless, and be deemed by the general public to be making no contribution), alert us to dysfunction that is mostly hidden underneath the façade of okay-ness that all is well, as we live our daily lives without ever challenging ourselves to assess our society’s priorities and/or core values.
(Of course, to get this we have to be open to hearing it)!
But more than that; they are a source of vast potential waiting to be tapped.
Working on the streets of Southill in the 1990’s first alerted me to the strengths that family members in the Focus Group have that people in mainstream society know little or nothing about.
Many people would say, describing various crises in their lives, that, I had to be strong, it was all down to me in respect of where others, perceived to be less strong people were at. And even those perceived to be less strong had hidden talents waiting to be unearthed.
A particular strength of people is an ability and willingness to be genuine. Genuine in expression of anger, in use of language, and in welcome! On the streets I felt accepted unconditionally [1], something that, to be honest, I had not really experienced in my working life up to then.
The wisdom of people who never get famous, who don’t publish academic papers or books, who are not journalists, writers or celebrities, and who do not get the opportunity of offer their expert opinion on Morning Ireland or Prime Time is generally heard only by those who firstly are close to them and secondly take the time to listen. (These strengths will be explored in a lot more detail in the Chapter on The Family Support Shamrock in Section Three).
And by close I mean emotionally as well as physically close.
And by strengths I mean that in order to get around, or over, or through what would be insurmountable obstacles to many people, a lot of very useful skills are learned. Some of these can be helpful – but some that might bring short-term relief may contribute to long-term harm. In growth, we may jettison the ones that are perceived, with the benefit of hindsight and/or awareness to do harm.
But when doing this, it is very important not to lose the skills that have been learned and have been helpful.
Those who struggle to be heard sometimes remind me of the passage from the Gospel where John the Baptist says that he is but a voice in the wilderness. And what his voice was announcing was the arrival of Jesus. Not many took him seriously.
It’s probably a bit too far out to say that everyone who struggles to be heard is announcing the arrival of someone who will save us, but for some reason I seem to be drawn to the wisdom of voices in the wilderness so to speak – and what truths, perhaps, they offer us all.
I feel very privileged that I have heard such wisdom down through the years, and I feel a deep responsibility to be faithful in my interpretation of it.
[1]. I am certain that there were conditions attached to accepting my colleagues and I in our streetwork project – but the welcome felt unconditional.