Social Worker Confessions-Part 2. Gunfire.

As a social worker who often has to visit homes of people I have never met, I understand it may be dangerous.  It never really feels dangerous. I am a pretty nice social worker.  I have good crises skills and, truth be told, I honestly enjoy the work and the families I serve.  But I really don't like being shot at, shot near or shot around.

You may be surprised to know how many people answer the door holding a rifle.  This used to shake me, but it happens so often that I almost expect it now.

The first appearance of a gun came when I was still in training.  I was following around the most amazing social worker I would ever meet, Ramona.  She was my Yoda.  But Ramona's job was to take children away, so of course none of the families could appreciate how fabulous she was.  

We were sitting in someones home, on their tacky floral couch discussing very non-chilantly how we were going to walk out of their home with their two children.  The dad stood up.  Quietly walked into a back room.  I could hear drawers opening and closing frantically.  I was trying to decided whether to make a run for it, but I was afraid if I stood up, I would pee on myself.  Very unprofessional. So I watched as the dad returned to the living room and Ramona stared him down.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out

 a pack a cigarettes. (Well, it could have been a gun!)

 I think maybe I fainted or something. I have no recollection of actually leaving the house or getting back to the office.

The second time was actually not a pack of cigarettes.  I was called to the highway to pick up two children aftter the highway police had pulled them over and found they were trafficking enough pot to smoke each day, every day for the rest of eternity.

When I arrived, the children were still buckled into their car seats.  (yes, they were actually pretty good parents aside from the trafficking.)  The police were all lined up behind their cars, weapons drawn, while I walked to the van.  I had my plastic badge to protect me while gunfire cracked over me head between the father and the police.  I got the kids unbuckled and took them away. 

Social Work is an Adventure.