Some people are naturally interventionist, others accept things as they are, for a variety of reasons: not enough energy, lack of confidence, belief nothing will change, an acceptance that 'it's life'. Is there a gender aspect to this? Are women more likely to raise issues, challenge, than men? I don't know. Certainly as the mother of a primary school child, I was quick to contact the school, or sometimes the parents, when I felt my son was the recipient of unpleasant behaviour. Now he's in senior school, contact with the school is more likely to be about a problem with a subject or a member of staff. And I'm still intervening.
Likewise in the work/student situation, I've submitted formal complaints about heads of departments doing irreparable harm to their employees and been assertive with line managers not managing appropriately. Has any of this made a difference? Sometimes it's resulted in improvements, sometimes being assertive not only hasn't worked but has led to a deterioration of the situation. The reality is that life ain't fair. People will get away with appalling behaviour. They will make you a scapegoat in order to protect themselves, they will place their ambition before the duty of caring for you or striving to bring out the best in you. Heavy stuff, but it's true.
My current challenge is around overseeing the care of an elderly, immobile relative, M. (see posts 'if you want a laugh, read someone else's blog' and 'why ducks don't drown on stormy seas'). I'd been warned that if different agencies were involved, they would be quick to criticise each other. The other day I received a call from the main caring agency, over the subject of a cardigan belonging to M. Despite her wishes, the cardigan had been through the wash instead of being dry cleaned, and although it survived unharmed, M. was determined to find the culprit. Normally a non-confrontational woman, she apparently had been quite aggressive in her interrogation of the different staff coming and going, to such an extent that one was refusing to return. My task was to tactfully ask M to be more careful, and ideally not raise the issue again. If the agency withdrew their service, she'd be in a difficult situation. So I pacified the agency team leader, I spoke to my aunt. The fact that M. was determined to get to the bottom of this was understandable, and could be viewed positively as an indication of her desire to feel in control of at least a few aspects of her life.
From habit my thoughts went along the line of needing to discover who had put the cardigan in the washing machine.
Then I pulled back. With uncharacteristic wisdom, I suddenly realised I couldn't sort out everything. There were just too many things which weren't perfect but I wasn't super woman. Yes, I could interview each of the carers, I could interview the private part time housekeeper/carer. I could spend hours on my detective act. I could phone the agency every time some small mistake had been made. And I'd be exhausted by all this, in the process neglecting other aspects and people in my life. So I decided I'd only concentrate on major issues: physical and emotional safety of M's care.
In a former life I ran courses on motivational interviewing ( see post 'the sun and the wind' ). One of the most valuable things about this approach which I pointed out to attendees - a range of health workers, voluntary organisations working with substance abuse, homelessness etc., was that therapists/workers could advise clientspatients, but ultimately it was up to the client/patients to make changes. The worker wasn't responsible for what happened. This was so liberating for people to hear.
And now I give myself permission for the situation with M. not to be ideal. I will not rush to the phone every time I learn of a problem. I won't expect her care to be perfect. Everyone involved is human: they have strengths, they have weaknesses. Of the carers I've met, there are personality traits I like and respect, and those I don't warm to. That is life. So I absolve myself from the pernickety interventionist role I've embraced over the years. My interventions may have been appropriate, based as they've been based on principles. The bitter lesson to be learned is that doing the right thing isn't always successful.
Relievedly yours
Jane
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