I am a front line worker
I see it everyday
the valientcy of life
and living everyday.
I am a front line worker
the one who hears the hurts
I see the beauty
where "the others" see no worth
I am a front line worker
people say I'm special to do this
but I'm not really anything much
this is why I exist
I am a front line worker
I get paid with triumphs and smiles
when I help someone to learn independence
or help them dress with style
I am a front line worker
I get mad when people just don't get it
that the people I care for, are people
give them a little credit
WE are front line workers
WE make no decisions
that is for "the higher-ups"
WE ALL just have to live it!
This is a poem written in frustration on behalf of the many "front line" workers of people with developmental disabilities and more importantly the people themselves who have to trudge though rules and royal decrees by people in offices who don't do what we do, who don't know our clients as well and who are downright punitive at times.
Rules and decrees that smash down quality of life in favour of a life watered down for our clients.
I am disgusted. I am angry.
I am saying enough!
Soli Deo Gloria
a very angry (at the moment) REformed girl
1 comment:
Hugs to a Calvinist,,, Q
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