is the date I started my professional journey in the human services. I know that because for the next 11 years I wore a name badge with that date on it. The badge evolved to include other fun facts about myself. My favorite sports team (Go Thunderbirds Sled Hockey!). My hometown. What type of potato I am. My pronouns. And eventually, a security swipe. But even as those “fun facts” evolved; the date was always there. The people in human services do love marking time and anniversaries! marks the beginning of my human service career, PCT (Pre-Covid Times). Along with anniversaries, human service people also love a good acronym.
On , unbeknownst to me at the time, I spent the last day I would have with my staff in our offices before we went fully remote. We will call this the start of CCT (Critical-Covid Times). I had a board meeting that morning. About a quarter of my board members joined us through Zoom. We chuckled about it, even those on the screen. Just the flu, we thought. We didn’t wear masks that day. We shook hands. We even hugged!
When I went back to my office I got the message that my 11-year-old’s school would be closing for 2 weeks. My staff and I did a quick 1-hour tutorial on how to use Zoom. We figured that would be sufficient to get us through a week or so. I told the staff to just take home what they needed for the week and then we would figure it out. Little did we know what was about to happen!
Everyone I know who works in human services balances the rewards of knowing we improve the lives of the community with the struggles of a severe lack of resources, both material and human. Our industry culture tells us that if we just work harder, longer, and with more passion, we will improve the lives of people in our community, and maybe in return we get a pizza party, or perhaps a hummus plate to celebrate a job well done.
When I stepped off my previous career path and into the human services on that fateful , I can honestly say I had no idea how tight a budget could get, or how hard it would be to find people who wanted to work for us. I spent innumerable nights trying to find five more dollars in a budget line, or one more participant to fill a chair. I scheduled countless interviews, only to be “ghosted” time and time again. And I spent endless hours “getting the job done” because helping the community was the most important reward.
By , as more and more news of Covid-19 rolled in, that lack of resources loomed even larger.
The reasons why resources are scarce aside, (that blog post is coming!) let’s dig into the impact of that scarcity on the mental health of our organizations in CCT and CRT. (Covid Recovery Times – I could do this all day!) In PCT, leadership was overworked, understaffed, and emotionally fragile. Our hair was always on fire with some immediate problem, and there was rarely time to focus on the long-term. We plowed through, hoping to get just one deadline ahead, dreaming of a day where we might be able to invest real time in implementing the one year/ three year/ five year strategic plans we all work so lovingly on developing.
Then CCT hit. I called my board president and told her I didn’t know if I could do this. She told me that none of us did, but to keep doing what I know how to do. Keep putting out fires. The human services are uniquely qualified for this — we are always putting out fires! There was a comfort in the crisis. A normalcy in being overworked, understaffed, and emotionally fragile. So, we did what we do; we got the job done.
Through the arduous months of , we were confronted by one catastrophe after another. A series of national tragedies led to greater unity and growth for the Black Lives Matter movement. An unspeakably stressful election year ended (eventually), and brought a temporary feeling of relief. We had barely had time to think or breathe. Then something happened. An interesting phenomenon. We took that moment of relief and became fixated on ! The holy grail! would be over and “normalcy” would be here again! The word of was HOPE! It was a light at the end of a tunnel. A turning point. A complete circle. A return to what was! Excitedly, we made the turn, and what did we see? More tunnel. The tone of quickly switched from HOPEFUL to LANGUISHING. I watched even the strongest of leaders wilt. I wilted myself. How could I keep going and take care of my staff? My family? My community? And then I remembered some important advice.
In case of cabin depressurization, put your own oxygen mask on first.
I have to take care of myself to be able to take care of my staff and family. My organization has to take care of itself in order to take care of our community. Languishing slowly turned back to hope as HSF put on its oxygen mask and began to help our community put on theirs.
We face real challenges every day in this field. Staffing shortages. Burnout. Funding pressures. Ever growing community needs, and ever shrinking resources. I could go on and on, but when I do, I once again begin to languish. I wish that I could tell you I have found the solution to all these challenges, but I haven’t. If I had, I would be writing a book with all the solutions, and it would be an amazing new revenue stream for HSF. Funding diversification at its best!
Instead of telling you what I KNOW, I am going to tell you what I DID. I put on my oxygen mask and pretended for just one moment that my hair was not on fire, and here is what I learned:
- Don’t Let the Crisis of Today Overshadow the Success of Tomorrow: Stay focused on longer term thinking. I am NOT suggesting launching into a strategic planning process. Think of it as a brainstorm of what your PCRT (Post-Covid Recovery Times…. ok, I am running out of acronyms) success might look like. Engage your staff, board and community. Ask people what their dream of the future looks like. Celebrate the dream! Maybe with a pizza party!
- You Don’t Have to Fix It All Today…. Or Even Tomorrow: Set a less ambitious agenda for . Returning to PCT behavior is not the indicator of success. Let this year be a year of healing: professionally, organizationally, and personally. Plan for the year AFTER next. HSF’s fiscal year ended in June so we are gearing up for what we will now call FY22. For us, is already over. FY22 will be our year of healing while WE decide the dream of FY23.
- Learn Who You Are and Who You Want to Be: Take time to slow down and re-meet your organization, your staff, and yourself. Look at your brand. Look at your culture. Refine your systems and guidelines. Be proud of what you do and make sure your team is as well. Stop apologizing for your organization’s imperfections and instead use that energy to FIX THEM. Take small but consistent actions towards becoming the organization you dream of.
- You Are Not Alone: Take the hands that offer you help and (when you are ready) reach your hand out to those who need yours. We are not in the same boat, but we are in the same ocean! When your oxygen mask is on securly, go ahead and throw out a life-line or two!
- Listening Creates Belonging. Belonging Leads to Hope. Hope Cancels Languish: Maybe that is the human service version of Rock, Paper, Scissors. This is one of the most unique moments in our history. We have been handed an opportunity to be quiet and listen. Listening deeply is one of the most challenging gifts we have ever been offered. Many years ago, I was in a training where we were assigned partners. We had to tell our partner about the person who meant the most to us. Our partner had the awesome responsibility of introducing our person to the rest of the group. Listening deeply to another person shows them THEY matter. When you feel you matter, you feel like you belong. When you belong, there is hope!
We have come a long way since , and an even longer way since . These are two anniversary dates I will never forget, name badge or not. HSF’s fiscal year has ended with a successful transition to online programing. Fifth grade in my basement is done for the summer. Armed with my vaccine, I am ready to go and hug my mom. And once again, we stand at a turning point in the tunnel. Will we see light? Will there just be more tunnel? Will I have to start wearing shoes again in meetings? I don’t know. But what I do know is that with each day that passes, the essential nature of the human services grows.
We are a critical part of keeping our communities moving forward and we need to continue to be their hope. This time I am standing at the turning point with my organizational oxygen mask on, waiting to help others adjust their own, because that is who we are. We are the HOPE. And, as our new Rock, Paper, Scissors game says, Hope cancels Languish.
—From the hopeful hand of Becca Coolong
Executive Director, The Human Service Forum.
Becca holds a BA in Classical Civilizations from Oberlin College. She began her professional career in the entertainment industry and transferred those skills to the human service sector in 2006. She has a strong passion for community building creating creative partnerships and collaborations. She is an advisory board member for John J. Duggan Academy in Springfield, MA.