Sharing the lessons and meaning of a person’s lived experience is a critical form of communication. Those lessons prompt us toward self-reflection and help in building ties that bind. As we strive to level the playing field between professional helpers and the families they serve, we should encourage and account for the lived experiences of all parties.
Personal histories are most valuable when they connect the turmoil and challenge of one’s past to whatever pathway led them out of darkness. Whether we faced systemic or personal barriers, or both, there was a convergence of circumstances and hopefully, a path forward. No one should be required or expected to tell the most intimate details of their lives, but when they do, we should embolden professional helpers to be reflective, and when possible, connect the helpers’ own life experiences to their encounters with families. If we fail to gather and consider the lived experience of these workers, we underestimate the full, reciprocal nature of this practice.
Creating a productive relationship with a family does not happen if vulnerability lies with only one party. In our role as helpers, the important conversations we have with parents and young people are those that squarely recognize the challenges of the present as well as the possibilities of the future. Very few of us reach adulthood without having faced at least one of those moments. Sharing them fosters connections.
Organizations looking to build community-based networks — where relationships and trust are critical — should consider how team members reflect and utilize their personal histories, joining with families in more empathetic ways and helping parents create a network of supporters and allies.
We must not limit what we regard as lived experience to the exclusion of the workforce. That can result in ignoring a long-standing, critical element in social work practice — the use of self. It is that self-reflection on shared life experiences, setbacks and successes across a wider spectrum of individuals in the child welfare arena that fosters a web of connections within a community.
Parents in recovery, or those who have been reunified with their children after a removal, even those who received help through a community pathway, have a unique story to share. But why should we put the responsibility for self-reflection just on them, or on young people who experienced the system? That should also be a task for helpers as well. Our shared experiences set the table for us to address one of our most difficult challenges facing many families — social isolation and disconnection.
Lived experiences are part of the human condition. We’ve all had our joys, sorrows, disappointments and dramas, some more than others. They’re the sum of each person’s unique history and daily encounters with others, influencing actions, expectations and perspectives. For 36 years, I have started my day with The Serenity Prayer, but so do millions of others.
Several factors — social, familial, economic, racial and ethnic bias, geography, even the randomness of the universe — will shape a person’s responses to and experience of their environment. If we are fortunate and we get through those long nights of the soul, and if we are provided with the right opportunities and affirmation, we can find practical ways to share our lessons learned with others, supporting them through understanding and encouragement. That journey requires many intentional, even serendipitous human connections.
Personal histories are most valuable when they connect the turmoil and challenge of one’s past to whatever pathway led them out of darkness.
These stories become valuable when they serve as a resource for families, helping them to thrive and survive and be safe. For their supporters, it is an opportunity to shift from an imbalanced investigative model to one where we are striving for connections to resources, not looking for compliance. It is like going from the rigidity of classical music to the improvisation of jazz, where musical narratives play off each other.
In the context of community-based approaches, where hope is the basis for action, parents and helpers are creating relationships, learning about themselves, their skills, their ability to relate to others and affirming their belief that today can be better than yesterday, but not as good as it will be tomorrow. Both parties are striving towards their better selves and improved skill sets. That takes time.
The power of lived experience within a child welfare setting is not the drumbeat of one person’s drama or misfortune, nor the telling and retelling of their most trying moments. Concentrating only on chronic misfortunes, making their personal story their most distinguishing factor, is a form of “othering,” even if it is done with the best of intentions. It can reinforce shame and pessimism unless it is met with empathy and mutuality.
The sharing of life experiences can provide a parent or young person, and the helpers entrusted with supporting them, specific goals and markers for the actions and decisions that can encourage a parent to pace oneself while traveling down an almost impossibly long road. The full force of lived experience lies in the explanation of what transforms us, the possibility of the path forward.
It should also serve as an opportunity for the helper to take an inventory of how their own personal history is adding value or encumbrances to their work with families. The helper’s self-reflection deepens the relationships with those whom they serve, injects a degree of humility, and helps them rebuke the old and damaging adage in child welfare, “I’m from the government and I’m here to help you…”
Community-based support of families is a shared journey. Traditional child welfare approaches have taught us clearly that when you only have one set of eyes, there is no one to tell you are wrong.
Lived experience is most effective when it is a communal experience, and it connects us to others. We learn and bond through mutual reflection.
