Today I participate in the Housing Coordinating Board meeting that my boss got me started going to after she took forever and five days off to be with her ailing mother out East. I love Bev. In her shaky voice you can hear the outrage burning in the pit of her stomach as she tells us the day has arrived when Americans have spent more money on luxury items than necessities for the first time in history (no cite available) and yet there are still people in our community without homes, without clothes, without healthcare (if you need a citation, come spend a day with me in my office). She knows what's up and she feels it more than I can. Despite all the very sad stories I've heard, somehow I've been able to maintain a pretty emotionless interaction with the people I serve. The only emotion I really feel at work is severe frustration: frustrated that our emergency funds aren't very flexible - I can only use them for very specific purposes, frustated that people can't take "no" for an answer even when there really is absolutely nothing I can do, frustrated that even in our relatively small agency there are so many administrative problems and bureaucratic issues... But, I've never sobbed, like Jill, one of our caseworkers, after listening to Stephanie tell about how her granddaughter's dad beat her to the ground outside her home in front of the child, whom Stephanie is the primary caretaker for. Last night's episode of Charmed brought me a couple tears, but Stephanie's story... just a pair of sympathetically wrinkled eyebrows and a hug for Jill.

What is wrong with me? I think it's just survival. There are so many heart breaking stories, I wouldn't be able to get any of my paperwork done if I was sobbing every ten minutes. Maybe that's just what my agency needs... No paperwork to get done because all the workers are actually emotionally connecting with the families we're serving. That would show them, don't you think?