I Quit my Job Today: Resigning with Integrity

Today, at 12:01 am, I resigned from my position as the school social worker at the charter school I have been employed with since 2017. My resignation was submitted with resignation. I hadn’t planned on leaving just yet. With the pandemic hitting hard in the fourth quarter of the 19-20 school year, I felt the overwhelming urge to be there for our students when they finally returned back to school. Knowing the significant challenges some of our kids’ experience – homelessness, hunger, child abuse and neglect, abject poverty – I felt that they needed to see familiar faces and know that they remained important enough to us that we continued to show up.

In the three years I worked there, I gave it my best effort to be a positive, affirming part of the academic environment. Understanding that social work can be intensive and filled with critical moments, I initiated and maintained collaborative work relationships that carried us through some pretty rough days. There were many opportunities to grow in this position and, boy, did I! I learned the indisputable power of Safe Space. Children spend so much of their days feeling unsafe, whether it is because of academic struggles, social/relational skill issues, and/or emotional/cognitive/mental delays. Being able to come into a physical space and breathe, without worrying about what someone would think was paramount to some kids’ daily success. I learned the infinite value that trauma-informed social work brought into the educational environment. My student/social worker connections were healthy and consistent; even students with chronic emotional and behavioral struggles gravitated towards me when in crisis. They knew that we would work on their troubles together, safely, and with respect. I love these students and respect the educators that instructed them. We made a good team…

Must all Good Things Really Come to an End?

In the time I spent working in this school setting, there were many instances that required me to step into the role of the advocate. Whether it was ensuring that students’ rights remained protected or requesting additional resources to help a child who struggled with making it through the school day, I was willing to champion them. As expected, there were times when it was met with resistance. I heard statements like, “I just want to make sure that we are all on the same page.” when I provided resources to a parent whose child faced stringent consequences. Still, I leaned in and advocated my heart out for my students. It didn’t make me popular but it set the precedent that I would do my job with integrity.

As a licensed social worker, I serve from the perspective of six key values: service, social justice, dignity and worth of a human being, importance of human relationships, competence and integrity. In this position, these values were challenged regularly. I remember my clinical supervisor asking me, during a session, “Do you think that you can maintain your integrity in this position?” And, although I answered yes, without hesitation, I remember reflecting on our discourse later that evening. I remember thinking, “so far, you have been able to maintain integrity while doing the work. But, what happens if it could cost you your job?” Little did I know that it would be part of the ultimate test of my career.

You Put a WHAT in my Office??

Mid-February, I walked into my office and placed my items on my desk. I quickly realized that there was a fine film of sheetrock dust on my desk. On my chair. On the floor. It was EVERYWHERE. I frantically looked around to see what could have caused such a mess. As I glanced up, I realized that there was a security camera. In my office. What in the world was it doing there?? I beelined to my direct supervisor and wanted to know what, when, how, who…I was so full of questions! And I was immediately filled with dread because I knew that a recording device in the therapeutic space was only allowed in the strictest of circumstances and this wasn’t it. After requesting a meeting with the school administration, I did what I thought was prudent – I reported the additional limitation of confidentiality to my licensing board. Why? For two reasons; one, I wanted to be proactive in alerting the board instead of someone informing the board about me. Two, I wanted to make sure I was not misunderstanding the law. After a series of meetings during which educators attempted to explain the Louisiana Social Work Practice Act to me while I explain, using the same laws, why I would be in violation, I was informed that the expectation remained that I continue to see children in my office, their safe space, with an active camera. It was also decided that I was not to obtain written informed consent that included the additional limitation of confidentiality. I was totally blown away. I didn’t understand the reticence, the entrenched refusal to even consider viable solutions to the issue. Even after receiving feedback from the social work board that supported my understanding of my legal and ethical expectations, the school’s stance did not change. I was ultimately told that the camera would remain in my office and that I could not obtain informed written consent from the parents regarding it. My choices were: comply or resign.

Can You Maintain Integrity in this Position?

I battled for solutions, friends. I really did. I loved the work. I loved my students. I wanted to be there when they showed up for school in August, overwhelmed and out of sorts. I wanted to be a part of an effective team that worked together harmoniously, putting the kids first. But, it became clear that it was not going to work out that way. Instead of collaborating on a viable solution (I had offered three and was open to options), I had been iced out, and then, targeted. The intimidation, the games, the coercion; it was in full effect. I could feel myself sinking deeper into anxiety. I knew that I was not going to back down from my request that they reconsider their stance and remove the camera. The students needed a safe space in the building to simply BE when struggling through the day. However, I quickly realized that this argument fell on deaf ears. Finally, when the actual legal and ethical standards that govern my profession was met with an ultimatum, I had to make a choice: will I bow to demands that violate the rights of the students and the social work profession or do I walk away?

Under duress, I decided to walk away. The question had been answered. No, I could no longer maintain my integrity in this position, as is. The position no longer allowed space for me to do so. And, as much as I love and will miss the students, I understand that I cannot do the work with integrity while submitting to illegal practices. As hurtful and demeaning as the experience was, I knew that I was able to practice social work with the honesty that is required in an effective social worker. My goal, upon accepting the position, was to leave the position in a better place than I left it. And, by the amazing responses of my coworkers throughout the day, I truly believe that I did.