By Yuri Yamada Streat
When I was a young single mother, I applied for financial assistance while going to college. One requirement was that a social worker had to make a home visit.
I lived in a government subsidized apartment and I wanted to make a good impression. I had the belief that only the “worthy” would be helped. In my living room I had an old couch that looked fine, but actually had no support under the cushions. If you sat on it, you could sink down and fall through. When the social worker arrived, I watched as she sat on that couch, holding my breath, too embarrassed to say anything. She sat down so gracefully. I’m not sure how she managed, but she did not sink down. She completed her interview and then rose to leave.
I was so impressed with her poise, kindness, and the fact that she did not shame me that my first thought was after I graduate from school, I would study to become a social worker like her. I do not remember the woman’s name, but I wish I could thank her. I am retired after 30 years as a social worker, most of that time in Children’s Protective Services.
