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‘Mummy I miss you’ ………
ALL MOTHERS ARE MISSED, EVEN ‘BAD’ MOTHERS.
HOW UNDERSTANDING THIS BELIEF CAN SHAPE AND ENHANCE OUR WORK WITH TROUBLED YOUNG PEOPLE IN THERAPEUTIC RESIDENTIAL CARE.
2006
Submitted in partial fulfilment for an
MA in Therapeutic Child Care,
Department of Community Studies
Firstly I would like to thank all the tutors involved with the Therapeutic Child Care course, especially Deborah Best and Linnet McMahon for their inspiration, support and understanding.
For all my fellow students, their help, support, encouragement and friendship has got me through this course. Special thanks to my dissertation motivator, Gary, who kept me going more than once.
Thanks to my sister Diane and the rest of my family and friends for the very much needed support, encouragement and patience they have shown towards me.
For my mum and dad who didn’t really know what I was doing but always believed I could do it.
Last but not least, for my son Simon who just believed!
Happiness lies for those who cry
Those who hurt
Those who have tried
For only they can appreciate the importance
Of people who have touched their lives
Abstract…………………………………………………i
Acknowledgements…………………………………….ii
Introduction………………………………1
Method
Ethical Considerations…………………..5
Literature Review on Attachment Theories……………………..8
Personal Reflections…………………….15
Reflections on Past Practice…………….25
Implications on Findings for Future Practice…………………………...38
Conclusion…………………………………48
Bibliography…………………………………………….50
Introduction
My childcare career began thirty-six years ago. I joined the staff at the Reception Centre for Berkshire run by The Royal County of Berkshire, Children’s Department, and a far cry from the residential provision we see today. We cared for up to thirty-four children at any one time, ranging from eighteen months old to sixteen years. The only criteria for admission were that the child/children needed a bed. In those bygone days it was not unusual for children to ‘admit’ themselves by arriving on the doorstep. By 1974 the ethos changed and it became an Assessment Centre ‘for children who have to leave their own homes for various reasons; illness in the family, desertion or just that the mother can no longer cope’ (Hull 1974:4 Evening Post) with the primary task described as being to offer help to overcome the grief and sorrow of children separated from their home. The task being to ‘work out’ where best the children should move on to; specialist care, foster care or return to their family. Maintaining regular contact with families was not made easy, the visiting being restricted to one afternoon a week. I vividly remember little people waiting anxiously for a visitor, who often did not appear. The tears would flow like rivers down their faces.
At this time I was unprepared for being exposed to the horrific stories these children carried. I had a problem understanding how ‘grown ups’ could inflict such physical and emotional pain on such ‘little people’. The biggest mystery to me was why the children appeared so homesick, were they not pleased to be away from their cruel mothers, as I saw them. I struggled to understand, ‘that the child, just as Jeremiah expressed it twenty-six hundred years ago, goes on loving even the cruellest and most brutal of parents’. (Miller 1991:125) I turned to my mother hoping her ‘maternal’ wisdom would help to enlighten me. She was not able to understand either. However, she would consistently say something to me that has stuck with me all these years. She said I was to remember that even ‘bad’ mothers are missed and advised me not to ‘judge’ or be harsh in my thoughts about these mothers. She thought I needed not only to show compassion but also to feel it.
My main topic for this dissertation is "All mothers are missed, even ‘bad’ mothers" and my key question being ‘how understanding this belief can shape and enhance our work with troubled young people in therapeutic care’? To this end I consider that through relevant literature and reflecting on past own experience, in and out of my work, the relevance of understanding this belief.
For a vast number of children who are unable to live with their own families, foster care is the best alternative and offers a more than adequate experience of family life. However, there are many children who through their devastating experiences are unable to cope within a foster family. For these children a therapeutic approach to their care in a residential setting can optimise their opportunity of achieving a level of healing their pain enough, to allow them to lead ‘good enough’ adult lives.
In my early days I was aware (and in awe) of specialised residential care but was not encouraged to explore, either the work or the ethos of such establishments. On reflection, and with new knowledge through this M.A., I believe my lack of confidence and belief in myself prevented me from discovering the mystery of these specialised homes. I joined the ‘camp’ of being outside the elite group of therapeutic workers. Often the outside and ill informed view of Therapeutic Child Care was that is was ‘precious and unique’, places where children were allowed to ‘express’ themselves however they wished therefore no discipline existed. Or so I was led to believe by colleagues. In 1985 David Berridge (1985:57) noted in his study of children’s homes that not only were heads of homes socially isolated, they also were ‘certainly professionally isolated and rarely maintained close contact with colleagues in other residential settings’. He goes on to say ‘the voluntary and private homes that were visited had virtually no external support of any kind’ and ‘there was little external stimulus to the homes’ In my experience this isolation applied to all staff.
Throughout my years with the Local Authority I saw the organisation restructured many times. I have seen changes in the law, which govern and dictate childcare practice, all to protect vulnerable children. These have ranged from the Children & Young Persons Act 1969 through to Every Child Matters (2003). Inevitably changes in how the service is delivered have occurred being influenced by the laws, social policies as well as other countries. I was aware many years ago of Canada forging ahead with the idea on small homes being the most beneficial for children needing residential care.
By the time I completed my Social Work training in the mid eighties, and as the manager of a children’s home I was encouraged to be a ‘paper’ manager with little contact with children. This proved very frustrating to me, I had been exposed to a whole new world of thinking and wanted to concentrate on being a ‘hands on practitioner’. This was the motivation to leave the Local Authority and become the owner and manager of a small residential home.
In order to complete this study I use a reflective approach to make connections between my personal and professional life. I detail a specific event in my early childhood that I believe made an impact on my adult life and steered me to my chosen career in childcare. I also reflect on past practice, recalling stories and examples of children I have met who have missed their mothers. I continue by looking at how putting these two areas of reflection together, along with matching theories of attachment, they can shape and enhance the practice of helping troubled children in residential care using a therapeutic approach.
To summarise, I consider what we can do to enhance the work by acknowledging that all mothers are missed, even ‘bad’ mothers in order to maximise the chances of some patterns and repetitions, of less than ‘good enough’ mothering and parenting being broken. Therefore the significance of this study is to understand each child’s reality; for the children in our care we need to respect their truth and history and if we can, be instrumental in keeping the ‘good’ parts intact then we should aim to do this in appropriate therapeutic settings.
Method
In this chapter I describe the method I have used to explore my dissertation theme, which is; All mothers are missed even ‘bad’ mothers, my key question being, how understanding this belief can shape and enhance our work with troubled young people in therapeutic residential care? In order to reach this understanding my approach for this study was qualitative. "Researchers adopting a qualitative perspective are more concerned to understand individuals’ perceptions of the world. They seek insights rather than statistical perceptions of the world" (Bell, 2005:7)
Originally my plan was to consider that even bad mothers are missed but the emphasis soon moved towards an understanding that all mothers are missed even ‘bad’ mothers. I considered this slight difference worthy of being mentioned. I used a reflective approach to enquire the importance of the development of our inner worlds. Ordinarily, our inner worlds develop healthily within the context of a secure attachment relationship. For some children this process may become problematic and their inner world becomes chaotic and confused. Because of my personal journey during the Therapeutic Child Care M.A, I wanted to link my early experiences to my chosen profession. The majority of children I have met, who have been separated from their mothers, have overtly missed their mothers even when their stories have been full of neglect and rejection. Therefore, for me as a child care worker using a therapeutic approach, to gain a better understanding of why all mothers are missed, I chose to reflect on my experiences both personal and professional. I reflected on these experiences to make ‘connections between past and present between family and work place and between inner and outer worlds’. (Howard 1998:132)
To make sense of my reflections it was necessarily for me to consider relevant literature on Attachment theory, Klein’s (1959) idea of splitting, Bion’s (1962) work on "containment" and Winnicott’s (1965) idea of ‘holding relationships’ and ‘good enough mothering’. Additionally, I looked at the writings of Dockar-Drysdale (1991), Stern (1977) and McMahon and Ward (1998) among others.
The findings through my reflection were supported by the chosen literature. For my reflections I used three journals. The oldest was written when I worked in America many years ago. It reflected my thoughts and feelings of being separated from my family. The second had a different purpose and was used during my social work training in the mid 80’s. The most recent being my journal, which I began at the beginning of the Therapeutic Child Care Course. I have used these to recall memories rather than using direct quotes. I noticed they each have different objectives. The first was purely for expressing my feelings at the time of being so far from home. The second was very much practice orientated focused on my clients rather than myself. The third was a reflective journal combining the two.
As a part of the reflective process used in this dissertation I connected events of my early life with my work experiences. I related the material about my experiences of the children I have met through my work with relevant literature on Attachment and Object Relations theories.
I was mindful that by either using the words "bad mothers" or implying the same I ran the risk of appearing judgemental and offensive. This was not my intention. As a term it has been widely and worldly used as seen in American literature such as Ladd-Taylor (1998) who wrote about "bad mothers" in terms of the politics of blame in Twentieth Century America. The idea of bad mothers has been used as a concept to separate different experiences in the child’s mind, such as Klein and Winnicott have suggested.
I offered examples of my practice in a way that protected the identity and sensitive private material by retaining the children and their families’ anonymity. Together with it not being feasible to seek individuals’ consent my decision was based where the people I refer to are chronologically and geographically in their lives now. Therefore in order to protect their identity I changed some relevant details of the people involved without losing the essence of their stories. I have changed their names gender and ages. Sapsford and Abbott (1996:318) recognise ‘having your personal details splashed in identifiable form across a research project is …intrusive’
A Mother's love is something
that no on can explain,
It is made of deep devotion
and of sacrifice and pain.
Helen Steiner Rice (From A Mother’s Love)
In order for me to consider that all mothers are missed, even ‘bad’ mothers, it is important to first consider the theories of attachment together with Melanie Klein’s (1959) idea of ‘splitting’. Therefore in this chapter I look at available relevant literature.
My work and experience with troubled children has shown that the most miss their mothers; even mothers who have demonstrated less than ‘good enough’ mothering are missed.
Attachment theories suggest that the majority of children will have an attachment relationship, albeit some will have disorganised or other insecure attachments. A disorganised attachment is an extreme form of an insecure attachment. It is widely recognised that the first attachment is with the biological mother.
Farnfield (1998:2) reminds us that, ‘the function of attachment is protection from danger so the attachment behaviour is activated at times when the infant of young child is anxious or in distress’. Most mothers have an instinctive awareness of how and when to meet the baby’s needs by, feeding, comforting, loving, reassuring and holding both emotionally and physically. The infant communicates its distress; most commonly by crying; in most situations the mother understands the clues, fixes the problem, peace and harmony are restored. Bion’s idea is that, ‘it is through the process of containment that the infant’s most unmanageable feelings and deepest anxieties are ‘projected’ to the parent so that initially at least, the parent can ‘feel’ them for him or her before handing them back in a more manageable form’ (Ward 1998: 15).
This process by the mother of understanding and solving the problem is a necessary experience for the infant to develop its own coping strategies. Fahlberg (1979:15) notes that ‘most of the interactions between a mother and her newborn child are initiated by the infant who fusses and cries when he (or she) is uncomfortable’ In short a baby will learn that by ‘projecting’ its distress or discomfort (anxiety) by crying, the mother will interpret the message, (sometimes by instinct, possibly by guesswork or a simple process of elimination e.g. knowing when her baby was last fed or changed) and solve the immediate problem. The mother has then protected her baby from hunger and discomfort by responding to the attachment behaviour. The potentially complicated concept of projection is uncomplicated by Ward (1998:15) who clearly defines, ‘the term ‘projection’ is used in psychoanalytical theory to refer to one means by which people – in this case the child – deal with unmanageable feelings: by unconsciously getting someone else to experience them’
Bion’s (1962) work on containment, together with Winnicott’s (1965) idea of the holding relationship offers a straightforward way for us to understand how and why infants attach with their mothers (and other caregivers).
The protective impulses a mother feels towards her infant can begin during pregnancy. A pregnant woman can begin to identify with her unborn child. Fahlberg proposes that ‘parents begin to develop images of what the unborn child will be like’. (1979:11) Equally Winnicott (1956a) suggested that only the biological mother could respond adequately to her baby, this ability being brought about by the emotional changes during pregnancy and childbirth. Winnicott also puts forward the view that other people are able to respond to the baby’s needs. It is important to acknowledge here that it is recognised and generally accepted that ‘mothering does not necessarily come from the biological mother, or even from women; mothering can also be done by men’ (McMahon 1998:111). However, for the purpose of my dissertation I mainly concentrate on the importance of the attachment with the biological mother.
In the initial stages of a newborn it is usually the mother who devotes all her time, attention and affection (not necessarily true for all) to the needs of the baby. McMahon (2002: 43) acknowledges that, ‘we know that most mothers do not fall in love with their babies at first sight’ while Fahlberg (1979:12) suggests that ‘most mothers use their first contact with the child to explore him, (or her) to count fingers and toes and just generally to see if he (or she) is physically normal’ Stern recognizes that how a mother responds to her own child depends on how the mother’s feelings were interpreted by her parents. He went on to suggest that the baby ‘may not know exactly what he or she feels, or where she feels it’. (Stern 1977:6). It is the mothers’ interpretations that help define the self and structure the world. It is therefore not too difficult to envisage that if the interpretations are consistently incorrect or the baby’s messages are regularly ignored the baby will not feel protected from harm and internal chaos will begin.
Through the indulged attention, the child begins to feel confident enough to move away from this comfort zone to try out the wider world, and its possible dangers. This scary move will initially take place while the baby remains safely within arms length and earshot of the mother, who will hopefully assure and reassure in times of unexpected distress. Winnicott proposes that this journey is (not always) helped by the use of a familiar object such as a soft toy, which can be taken from place to place by the child as a physical, visual reminder of the comfort zone. This object, known as a transitional object (Winnicott 1971) will also possess a familiar touch and smell, not always pleasant to others.
I have already acknowledged the main function of attachment is for protection from harm. Another purpose of attachment is the development of the infant’s inner world. Feelings of self-worth and self-value in later life begin with this crucial attachment. To feel lovable we must first have experienced being loved. The inner warm glow that occurs when we know we are loved is beautifully described in the children’s storybook, The Velveteen Rabbit;
‘That night he was almost too happy to sleep, and so much love stirred in his sawdust heart that it almost burst’. (Williams 1922: 16)
We all have an inner world, some more aware of it than others. Dockar–Drysdale (1991:45) describes the development (of reality) as ‘unique for each of us: it is furnished from our earliest experiences onwards – experiences symbolised, realised and arranged within us as the order of our inner worlds’ .
With the appropriate elements, such as protection from danger through ‘correct’ mothers’ responses, in place the infant gradually develops a sense of being separate from the mother, hopefully with the knowledge and confidence that the mother is ‘holding’ its emotions, feelings and anxieties. Dockar–Drysdale (1991:45) usefully states that ‘only as the baby obtains enough primary experiences from his mother- her breast, her arms, her smile – can any baby change slowly from being contained by the mother to being himself a container of inner reality’. For a child to have an optimum chance for its inner world to develop in healthy conditions, the child needs to have been fed when hungry, warmed when cold, cleaned when dirty and comforted when frightened. As the infant grows experiences widen and a sense of self develops. While other members of the family are recognised the child will often use play to confirm (or deny) where they fit into the world.
An important part of developing an inner world is loss, more importantly the way in which loss is dealt with for and by children is an essential ingredient of developing their inner world. Loss is an inevitable part of our lives and has a variety of levels, which will determine different responses by the child as a child and later in its adult life. Loss may not necessarily be physical; a child may be actually with its mother who for a variety of reasons may be emotionally unavailable to the child. The child will therefore receive inadequate nurturing and their ‘messages’ will be ignored. The loss is consequently of the absence of ‘good-enough’ parenting. There are other actual losses that may have devastating affects. However loss experienced within the safety of a ‘good enough’ containing and holding atmosphere is the learning process most of us receive to be able to cope with our own grief. In growing up years different losses are experienced. It may the loss of a friend who moves away, the death of a relative or pet, or even the loss of a much-loved toy. The grief felt by a young child may be projected to its mother in stressful tears. In a helpful, healthy development situation the child will be ‘taught’ how to manage the unbearable feelings. Ward (1998: 21) offers that ‘what is harder to bear is repeated or sudden loss, or loss which is added to – or confused – with other traumatic experiences’
To summarise why babies attach, the complicated development of the inner world has its roots in attachment of the baby with its mother. The development starts from the initial moments of a newborn child. Winnicotts idea of ‘good enough’ parenting offers an achievable description and expectation of successful parenting without the pressure of aiming for perfection.
The term splitting is derived from Klein’s theory (1959). She suggests that from a very young age, an infant feels, ‘that he is being attacked by hostile forces’ (discomfort and frustration) (Klein, 1997:48), the comfort and care given coming from good forces. She continues by explaining this as ‘the infant directs his feelings of gratification and love towards the ‘good’ breast, and his destructive impulses and feelings of persecution towards what he feels to be frustrating, i.e. the ‘bad’ breast. Challender (1999: 83) suggests that by the infant splitting the good and bad things about the mother he or she can love the good and hate (attack) the bad. He continues by offering the later beneficial balance of experiences, i.e. realising that it is possible to love and hate mother, who is one person, possessing good and bad aspects. Chandler states that, in favourable conditions the infant comes to trust that love predominates over hate and that their attempts at reparation have been successful. That is to say that the infants desire to say sorry for damage caused by greed is possible, and harmony between mother and child restored.
It is therefore hugely important to recognise that Klein’s theory of splitting is especially useful in attempting to understand the behaviour of troubled children. Ward (1998:57) succinctly says that ‘the child may protect him or herself against acknowledging powerful feelings such as distress or anxiety by unconsciously allocating all bad qualities to one person or relationship and all good qualities to another (or to the self). This theory neatly connects and confirms the purpose of attachment being for protection from harm.
The development of our ‘inner world’ starts from our very beginning. Our thoughts, feelings and reactions to others in all relationships are based on what has gone on and what is going on in our inner world. An easy way to look at this is to think of attachment and the inner world as being full of memories. In Stern’s description of the mother and baby initiating smiles which, in turn evoke the others smile, he says ‘they are the stuff of being with another person that constitute the ties of attachment. So much of attachment consists of the memories and mental models of what happens between you and that other person’ (Stern 1977:66)
Bion’s ideas of ‘containment’ and Winnicott’s ideas of ‘holding’ go hand in hand when looking at the development of the inner world. Both theories are based on how an infant copes and survives anxieties, again all connected with danger. These ‘survival techniques’ develop through the experiences received in infancy. Memories of being saved from stressful situations in childhood help to enable appropriate responses to stressful situations in later life. These unconscious good memories help create a repertoire of coping strategies, to ‘fall back on’ in times of potential or actual anxiety. Without these, ordinary daily life can seem much more difficult to deal with.
Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future?
And time future contained in time past.
If all time eternally present
All time is redeemable.
T.S. ELIOT (From Burnt Norton poem)
In this chapter I reflect on events in my early life and consider their impact and affect on my adult life, especially in my work. By understanding, through theories of attachment as detailed in my literature review; these events I now accept were the key aspects in the development of my inner world and the reason behind my motivation for my childcare career. It is crucial to be able to consider the associations and meanings between the past and present. A huge part of my recent learning and self-discovery has developed through the Experiential Group of the course. This unique experience, which aims to help students ‘focus on the connections and overlap between the personal and the professional, with an emphasis on personal development rather than academic learning’ (Howard 1998:132).
Making connections through feelings, although painful, has proved to be positive. For example I like many others have a dread of speaking in a big group, or even in a small group if the group consists of strangers.
If we accept that children’s view of reality depends on their inner world, it becomes apparent that we must comprehend how the inner world is developed. We all have an inner world White (2003:87) offers ‘It speaks to us all. Whether we listen to or not is a different tale. The inner world is where all things happen before they can ever become reality on the surface’
The majority of my experience has not been directly involved with therapeutic childcare. However, I believe that a lot of the work I have been exposed to and involved in has originated, and been influenced by certain ideas and principles which govern therapeutic approaches to childcare. These are attachment theories that have been offered through the research and studies of Bowlby, Winnicott, Ainsworth and others.
On reflection I think I have spent a great many years ignorantly (of the theories of attachment) reacting/responding to troubled children intuitively. It has taken an open mind and the M.A. course for me to understand and appreciate that ‘intuition is not enough’ (Ward 1998). Dockar-Drysdale (1968a:31) suggests that, ‘Intuition informed is an essential tool: intuition uninformed can be a dangerous weapon’. With my new learning, my understanding of ‘dangerous’ is linked with the ‘dangers’ of not recognising transference and projective feelings, for example child projecting their negative feelings onto the worker. Ward (1998:35) offers ‘Reflection on feelings of transference and counter-transference provides a helpful way of bringing together the inner worlds of the child and worker.
Over the years I have met numerous children with large amounts of troubles and worries, all with sad stories. Some of these children I know where they are now in their lives, others I have no knowledge of. Their stories however stay in my mind.
I have seen numerous children bitterly disappointed by their own mother. Their hopes and expectations have been shattered in a second by, a cold response, blatant disinterest, overt negative criticism or total absence (abandonment). To consider ‘understanding the belief that all mothers are missed, even ‘bad’ mothers can shape and enhance our work with troubled young people in therapeutic residential care’, it is important to understand our own position in our lives and how our own inner worlds developed.
The importance of making time for reflective space now makes so much sense it pains me to consider the number of years I have lost. Yet I have gained so much during the last two M.A. years by sharing, reflecting, learning, and feeling; then making connections. I can only be thankful and not dwell on negative thoughts of the years gone by.
In the early 1950’s my father, serving in the Royal Air Force, was stationed in South Africa. After a year my mother, sister then aged 4 years and I, 2 years old, sailed to join him. During this voyage I suffered a serious illness, which, on reflection, was the most significant childhood episode to affect my life. My illness and the treatment lasted for the majority of the crossing to South Africa. I received my mother’s undivided attention (the Doctor often found her in the ship’s hospital in the middle of the night) and I am sure my well-being dominated her thoughts, feelings and fears. Consequently my sister was either left with strangers or alone in our cabin. Even worse once I was out of hospital she was ‘in charge’ of me when our mother went for her meals, in those days adults and children dined separately.
When we arrived in South Africa my ‘inconvenient existence’ continued. I had extremely fair hair and skin; it was the height of summer. In the early 1950’s sun cream was not available, I was clad in suitable attire but my shoulders and feet were ‘forgotten’. Consequently we were off to seek medical attention again. By this time, I can with conviction, say my mother became over protective of me. I suspect she kept me too close physically and emotionally fearing the worse if I was out of her sight for more than a second. I became the special child needing constant protection. Even when she got a part time job it was in a nursery so she could be with me. This proved to have a big affect on my confidence for many years to come.Bettelheim (1962:81) acknowledged, ‘every step you (parent) take will have its consequences’.
I have spoken with my sister and she recalls hating the voyage and having feelings of resentment for me, after all I was the cause of her ‘suffering’ and the reason her mother was being a ‘bad’ mother by leaving her. She says she can remember missing our mother even though she was also angry with her (but couldn’t afford to be angry with her). I believe this experience proved possibly the most traumatic experience for all three of us in our individual ways, and proved to affect our future relationships.
Without ill intent, (from what I have learned during the M.A. course), I imagine my mother inadvertently ‘blamed’ me for her distress and fears. I expect the attention I needed caused a high level of inconvenience for my mother, not to mention the high anxiety. After all, this entire journey, to distant shores was literally new ground for her. Even without the added stress of my illness she was alone amongst strangers, feeling lonely and scared and no doubt carrying extra ‘luggage’ given to her by her parents. Bowlby (1973:201) recognises that ‘In the presence of a trusted companion fear of situations of every kind diminishes: when, by contrast, one is alone, fear of situations of every kind is magnified’
I think it fair to acknowledge she was struggling to manage her own feelings of loss caused by saying farewell to her own parents. I know my mother was very close to her parents. She was equally close (emotionally not geographically) to my paternal grandmother. I have since discovered they did not want her to make this trip and certainly did not want her to take their small granddaughters on this ‘dangerous’ trip. Bearing in mind their knowledge and experience of travel was mainly associated with the risks and danger of wartime, so fear of annihilation would be uppermost in their thoughts.
With my new found awareness of what we introject from our parents I believe my mother would have felt shame in ‘allowing’ me to get so ill, and would have taken the blame for being so far from home. Her parents undoubtedly having projected their fears onto her, their fears then almost became true.
I strongly suspect she dreaded having to face her parents at some point in the future. Maybe subconsciously, and at times consciously, she had suffered the same fears of her parents, the loss of one’s child/children.
That fateful day of having to actually face her parents would have to wait until we sailed home twelve months later. Communication then was confined to slow delivery of letters, mail from Bullawayo to Bristol did not happen overnight. She no doubt heard the words in her head of, ‘I told you so’ coming from her parents. Before being reunited with my father she would have no one (close companion) to rehearse her responses or help ‘diminish’ her fears, possibly of predicted retribution.
In turn and in my adult life she has at times, again, transferred this ‘blame’ to me. I vividly recall her ‘anger’ with me one day while she was baby sitting for my seven year old son; he severely cut his ankle on glass. Klein’s (1959 cited in: Ward 1998:57) explanation of ‘splitting’ offers an appropriate explanation of this situation, ‘splitting refers to the way in which the child may project him or herself against acknowledging powerful feelings such as distress or anxiety by unconsciously allocating all ‘bad’ qualities to one person or relationship and all ‘good’ qualities to another’ On this occasion it was my mother doing the splitting. I was the ‘bad’ mother by being inconveniently shopping and not available or contactable (how mobile phones have changed our lives) while my son held all the ‘good’ qualities by being so brave (and not making a fuss?). Interestingly her response to my son was to feed him, to this day he can’t eat doughnuts, he says he was overdosed on them!
The connection between my responses and hers are quite staggering. Her reaction to me as a child was to ‘give’ (mostly her time), and her reaction to my son was to give food. A reaction not unfamiliar to me, on this course I was the self-elected ‘milk monitor’, a position I took with great responsibility and something which would cause me anxiety if I could not fulfil my ‘duty’
My long lasting reaction, and I believe the reason for my desire to work with troubled children, has been to want to give in order to help the healing process. Clare Winnicott succinctly states, ‘Of course we shall not always understand what is going on or what they are trying to convey to us, and often this does not matter. What matters most is that we respond in a way which conveys our willingness to try to understand’. (Winnicott 1963:156)
I believe we, that is, my mother and I, share the same feelings of thinking we have been the cause of distress (though illness) and therefore, want to be the cure. My mother’s recollection of her early years is that she did not suffer a serious illness but was constantly a ‘poorly, weak child’ who needed lots of time off school. Maybe she, like me, was the ‘special child who needed to be (over) protected.
Problems and illness, of my own and of others, more importantly, my reaction and response to them, has played a big part in my life. When I have had a problem or illness, big or small I have not been able to tell my mother until it has been resolved or cured. I remember when I first left home in my early 20’s never letting her know how homesick and broke I was.
The early traumatic events, which developed my inner world, led me to not wanting to ‘trouble’ her with tales of woe. I have always ‘played down’ the seriousness of certain illnesses I have suffered. This reaction has been with me for as long as I can remember. When I had my tonsils out at 5 years of age I apparently would only cry ‘when visiting time was over’. I suspect I did not want to ‘make a fuss’ or cause my mother distress. I can recall desperately missing my mother. Now I wonder and question was I missing a ‘bad’ mother, a mother who could not protect me from illness but somewhere along the way I learnt to protect her.
Fascinatingly, just recently she expressed extreme concern about her two great granddaughters going to a day time summer ‘camp’ She voiced her fears, some rational, others paranoid, justifying her fears by saying, ‘it is a mother’s job to keep her children safe’. I find it intriguing that these feelings of protection (guilt?) are still so strong in her; she is approaching her 85th birthday. As detailed previously Melanie Klein’s viewpoint would be the ultimate fear being of annihilation, ‘there is in the unconscious a fear of annihilation of life’ (Bowlby (1973:384)
Continuing my journey (and search for explanations and meanings) of reflective self-discovery, I recall other events, which I can now link my reactions to the incident of my illness and the unintentional/unconscious feelings my mother placed with me. I can vividly recall at least two occasions in my growing up years, being bullied by older children. These events are unpleasant to remember as they are harbingers of horrid thoughts and feelings, I do not willingly bring them to mind but they will arrive uninvited, often triggered by a current event, especially related to the children I work with. The realisation of how I overcame these unpleasant times explains a lot for my adult life. I reacted by keeping quiet. I can now, with confidence attribute these responses to, 1) not wanting to be a nuisance, 2) not wanting to cause any pain or worry, 3) feeling in some way it was my fault. I did not talk to my parents about these events until I was well into my adult life. My father remembered being sent by my mother to find me one time, how relieved I was that he had remembered and that they had both ‘held me in mind’ This connects with my earlier statement of dreading talking in groups,indeed of talking of early pain at all. Howard (1998:135) suitably suggests ‘The problems that for many people these traumas are in themselves often very ‘silencing’’.
Earlier I made reference to the purpose of the Experiential Group, and how much of my learning had evolved from that experience. Again I quote fromHoward, ‘as we talk together, making connections between past and present, between family and workplace and between inner and outer worlds. (1998:132). It is intriguing to appreciate that, with the absence of the group, the talking can be in fact, be the writing and thinking. I have just returned to this reflective chapter after visiting my ‘introduction’ chapter, here seems the appropriate place to share a connection between all the things described by Howard.
In the Introduction Chapter I refer to some children turning up on the door step to ‘admit’ themselves to the home, often this was through domestic violence. I found it impossible to write without my thoughts returning to those days and seeing in my mind’s eye little brothers and sisters huddled together, tears washing their mucky faces. I felt then, and now (literally) awash with such sadness and feelings of desperately want to ‘mend’ their pain. Seeing pain, tears and sadness in others I still find unbearable. The connection is my early experience and feelings of being the cause of sorrow and then wishing to ‘make it better’. On reflection and with knowledge I imagine the children were giving me their feelings in the hope I could either at best, ‘sort them and return them’, or at least be strong enough to feel their pain and ‘stick with it’, with and for them.
Connecting memories with meaning, and understanding my inner world as a worker with traumatised children is crucial, as it for all workers.
I have offered an episode of my early years, which has had a significant affect on my life. The importance here is for me to be able to remember, reflect and use it in a beneficial way in the work I do therapeutically with children. Since thinking and writing this chapter I have been mindful of the possibility that some parts of my story may be incorrect due to unreliable memory. This has alerted me to being aware that children in any care system may not have the luxury or advantage (others of course may see it as a disadvantage) of turning to a mother (or family member) to exchange and share memories. Such little people may undeservingly become the sole holder of their own history. This suggests to me a need to address this issue in a safe and therapeutic way that helps relieve them of this huge responsibility.
In order for this to be achieved I propose the worker involved would need to be in tune and comfortable with the fact that the child in question may have the most horrendous past which may involve a ‘bad’ mother. Only by being at ease with their own inner world, together with appropriate supervision could this be approached.
It is important to recognise that a child may want and need to bring to mind in a therapeutic way a ‘bad’ mother, who they miss. Winnicott C. (1964:15)aptly recognises that ‘We must also know about their anger toward, and their disappointment in their parents, and how those feelings increase the pain of separation. These feelings must also be talked about’, she continues regarding the relationship between worker and child, ‘they know they can be themselves and say what they feel without shocking us or risk losing us’
To bring this chapter to its conclusion there is not one aspect of my work that does not benefit from taking time to reflect. I firmly believe I had more than ‘good enough’ mothering/parenting. However, I also believe that even the, more than good enough mothers can do ‘bad’ things which can affect our lives forever. I still can recoil with distress at disapproval from my mother. This has also been a reaction to my perceived disapproval from tutors on this course.
In this chapter I have described how my mother reacted to my illness. I have understood that her inner world dictated how she responded to my needs. For me this has not led me into serious problems in my adult life. However, maybe I can assume that the ‘good’ things, such as staying in the ship’s hospital, she did for me, also created the ‘bad’ things she inadvertently did to my sister for instance leaving her with strangers. Equally at various times during our growing up years I can bring to mind times when I was convinced my sister got more of our mother than I did, and during those times I recall missing my ‘bad’ mother.
I have not felt entirely comfortable thinking of my mother as a ‘bad’ mother. I have questioned whether this feeling is connected to my own fears of not being a ‘good enough’ mother, literally and in my work. By experiencing this process, my future practice will be better informed regarding what may be going on for a troubled child. Many of us as mothers strive to be perfect, it is important to accept that being ‘good enough’ is more than acceptable. Transferring this idea to my workplace leads to a deeper acceptance and hopefully a clearer understanding of the relationships, dynamics, and actions of the families I meet.
To say that I recognise the importance of this early experience is an understatement. Being able to make the connections between this early experience and my adult life, relationships and work feels like a precious gift. Being able to translate this skill directly into my work (reflectively and for the future) is invaluable insight and tool for working with troubled young people with traumatic past experiences.
As shown in the attachment theories the majority of children have the capacity to attach to their primary carers (and others). It is also acknowledged that this is mostly with the biological mother. I have considered the idea that even good enough mothers do bad things. My thoughts are that the troubled young children I work with are not always given the space and permission to be free and real in their true thoughts about their mothers. A Kleinian view being that they cannot afford to be angry or hostile with their mother for fear of being abandoned.
"Whatever you do may seem insignificant,
But it is most important that you do it" Mahatma Gandhi
Some children I have worked with have had such deep sorrow and pain it has seemed like almost an impossible task to help them begin to heal. The reality is that we cannot wipe out their unpleasant, inappropriate experiences but we can aim to help them begin to value themselves and recall and retain whatever ‘good’ memories they have. We can try to put back into working order what was lost though the damage they suffered. So, although at the time progress may appear slow or absent and leave the worker feeling what they are doing is insignificant, it is important not to give up. The help we offer may not come to fruition for many years and unfortunately we are not always in a position to see the fruits of our labour.
In this chapter I focus on my direct experience of child care by introducing the reader to stories of some of the children I have met over my years in residential work. My career began over thirty-six years ago. Due to that length of my time it is necessary to give some background to the profession I chose.
When I joined the childcare profession care services were fragmented. They consisted of three main departments: Health, Welfare and the Children’s Department. I joined the children’s department in 1970. It was shortly before the amalgamation of these disjointed services that became, as we know today, Social Services.
Through time I have seen many changes of social policies, political views, and trends, and in the legal framework of child care law. Even geographical changes occurred when county boundaries altered. All of this influenced and affected the service delivery. At the beginning of my career the Children and Young Persons Act of 1969 was current. The relevance of this Act for one of the stories I later describe is that then it was not unheard of for all parental contact to be terminated.
Although it is not an area I cover in depth in this dissertation, I acknowledge that, in my experience, men who have abused children at times may also have been the prime carer. In the prime carer role, love and trust will have been encouraged during an abusers ‘grooming’ days. I am not suggesting that all male carers do not provide excellent care for their children, however I have experienced situations where this has not been the case. At times, the general perception about parental care, inside and outside the Social Services was harshly judgemental. This was reflected in situations like the Rochdale’s (1990) response, when several children were ‘taken’ away from their parents under the allegations of satanic abuse. (The Times 2, January 10-2006: 4-5). Some of these children were not reunited with their parent for many years. Although the parents were overtly seen as ‘bad’, their children still sorely missed them. By the following examples I attempt to reach an understanding of how this belief can shape and enhance the work we do within a therapeutic approach in residential childcare. I used psychodynamic ideas to deepen my understanding of troubled young children.
I have previously mentioned that I have yet to meet a child who has not missed its own biological mother. Equally I have met children who have missed the person who has been the mother figure, both male and female.
One such example I experienced was an eleven-year-old boy (oldest of three boys) who had been seriously abused by his father. At the time, I was in charge of a Local Authority children’s home. During Sam’s early years, his mother had not always been physically or emotionally available to him; as he grew older, his main attachment figure had been his father. It was his father who provided everything and who took an interest in his schoolwork, hobbies and achievements. But, the boy grew up and his world got bigger, with more people in it. Through conversations with his peers he discovered he was different, more to the point his relationship with his father was different. His friends didn’t seem to have ‘special family secrets’, which contained death threats if told.
He decided he wanted the ‘bad’ things to stop so told a trusted teacher. What happened was not what he wanted or expected. His ‘dream’ was to keep the ‘good bits’ and stop the ‘bad bits’. He thought someone would simply tell his father to stop and he would. But, he was received into care, frightened, (the secret was out) confused and angry. His father was arrested; his mother accused him of lying. Within a blink of an eye he was with strangers in unfamiliar surroundings. No familiar sights, smells or feelings, physical or emotional.
He loudly defended his father, blamed himself for causing so much family disruption; he more loudly blamed his mother. The following years were troubled and sad. He often said he felt like he was ‘screaming in the dark’ and that no one really understood. He said the day the abuse stopped he lost everything in his life, including everything that was good and familiar. He continued to blame his mother, she carried all the ‘bad’, and he began to ‘hate’ his father. He consistently refused to see his mother because she had not believed him. His father went to prison. Tragically for such a young boy his lack of self worth and value led him down the path of serious self-harm with many suicide attempts.
This little boy had experienced less than ‘good enough’ mothering. The real safe world had not been introduced to him let alone, as Winnicott (1964:69) suggests in ‘small doses’ He had been coaxed into an unsafe world with adult ingredients, highly inappropriate to promote healthy child development. The purpose of attachment; protection from harm, had not been met. The very persons meant to keep him free from harm were the persons either directly harming him or not able to protect. His ‘inner world’ had little chance of being anything else other than chaotic. His behaviour mirrored his chaotic world.
I knew this boy for three years, three traumatic years. At times either myself, or a member of staff, thought we saw signs of the beginning of the healing process. But the signs were often short lived and rarely believed by the whole staff team. On reflection, and with a deeper understanding of the complexities of traumatised children, he had needed a more specialised environment. But as I acknowledged in my introduction, often staff (predominately heads of homes) in homes were isolated from the rest of the care system world and ‘rarely maintained close contact with colleagues in other residential settings’ (Berridge 1985:57)I was however fortunate to have some contact with other homes but not the ‘elite’ group of therapeutic communities homes.
As uninformed staff we held him together as best we could with our hearts and with our minds, not too sure of what was going on for him or us. As concisely recognised by Healy (1999:236) ‘It can be very painful and traumatic to get in touch with the traumas of another person’s life. We need as workers to be sure of our own containment for the work we do’.’ As workers we need to reflect and consider our own inner worlds, a point I discuss in a later chapter.
Thinking about this example of practice retrospectively is difficult, I think that I together with colleagues, were able to ‘hold’ him in a way that encouraged him to begin (but only just begin) to feel better about himself. We certainly held him in mind; very often he dominated our thoughts and conversations. Sam’s school attendance was erratic. He would become fretful and anxious about what was happening at home. However, we symbolically let him know we were thinking of him while he was out by putting little notes in his lunch box or pencil case. Sam loved knowing we were ‘holding’ him in mind. The notes became very important and spread to other situations e.g. staff days off or holidays.
Gerthardt (2004:205) helpfully says that ‘as we (babies) mature we increasingly use words to ‘hold’ each other’ she adds ‘abused babies miss out on these experiences of physical and verbal holding’ Therefore they do not learn that their anxieties can be tolerated, sorted and returned in a more manageable form. ‘Instead they have to find some way to hold themselves together and this is done defensively……….. they attempt to go through life using defensive strategies’. I suspect the relentless conscious and unconscious effort of trying to hold himself together was reflected in his erratic sleep patterns, often he would wake crying loudly for his mother. Now I wonder if this was missing a real mother or an image of an ideal mother, whichever, it still seemed his was missing a mother, even (maybe) a ‘bad’ mother.
We acted as ‘good enough’ substitute mothers and showed him more appropriate adult male/child contact but it was not enough. He was not reunited with his mother and his behaviour steered him to a secure unit.
Sam’s early experiences caused such trauma and damage that his chaotic inner world affected all aspects of his outside world. In retrospect he would have benefited by specialised care to help him reconstruct his early emotional needs and experiences.
Sam missed a mother who had not been good enough for him in his baby years, but for some other children, their circumstances lead them to miss the real presence of their mother. The following story is such an example:
Amy: Are you going to move me?
After several years of working for Local Authority I left to set up a small private children’s’ home, which was also my home.
It was in this home where I met a young girl who I will call Amy, who had experienced multiple carers, and as many rejections. The twenty four ‘addresses’ she had had included a garden shed, park huts, a disused car, various family members or their inappropriate friends before a string of foster carers unable to tolerate her extreme violent disruptive behaviour. She offered herself to foster carers for sex, which always resulted in her being moved.
As a very little baby Amy had received ‘good enough’ mothering from her single biological mother, who was a young girl herself who had successfully broken away from Amy’s violent father. Amy’s mother was later ‘swept off her feet’ by an attentive older man who promised a life of love and security. The love became abuse the security a prison. She had been a ‘good enough’ mother who made some ‘bad’ choices. She paid a heavy price for these choices and was judged as a ‘bad’ mother for not protecting Amy. Her parental contact was terminated through the courts.
Amy carried her troubles and worries around with her all day and night. Her sleeping hours were as troubled as her waking ones. Her behaviour was violent and sexualised. She displayed this behaviour to herself in actions, to others mainly in speech. She would sob bitterly and say ‘if only I had my mummy I would be like everyone else’. Amy expected to be moved each time she was reprimanded for her outrageous behaviour. She would often ask, ‘are you going to move me now? At times it was if she was saying ‘can you cope with the awful things inside my head if I give them to you?’
My staff and I cared for her within a therapeutic atmosphere by offering a warm, safe, and accepting environment. She was often told her behaviour was unpleasant not her. Of course it was hard for her to separate the two.
When I first met Amy she had been seeing someone regularly for play therapy. This continued for a short while then stopped due to her age. Problems were then encountered because a new therapist could not be identified. Too much time passed and when a psychotherapist was found she refused to engage, and would openly say, ‘I know what you want me to talk about, I wont and you can’t make me’ She spent many months proving she was right.
I knew Amy for many years and became the container of the majority of her pain. ‘Bion has written of the importance of the containing of a child’s distress by another who can take on board that distress not to be overwhelmed by it, but provide a soothing comforting response in return’ (cited in Healy 1999: 236).
Amy was consistently and constantly accepted, (by myself and staff) ‘warts and all’, although at times her behaviour was considered repulsive. She often soiled and smeared herself and her room; she would publicly masturbate, mostly during mealtimes. I realised in order to help her change any of her behaviour we had to tackle one bit at a time. We prioritised which needed to stop first. It was important that Amy did not feel judged and understanding what was behind the behaviour was essential. Regarding her masturbating she was told this was a very personal thing to do and suggested her bedroom or the bathroom. This however was not what she wanted because needed to ‘tell the world’ how ‘bad’ she felt, so doing things in private would not achieve that. What she needed was someone to say ‘now I understand how bad you feel….. about yourself’ Some of her behaviour was also about making herself very unattractive to guarantee she would not attract potential sexual attention and therefore she would not be abused. She was told many times a day she was safe and would not be harmed in any way.
Her behaviour reflected how her life which had been full of separation and loss had affected her ability to cope with ordinary situations and relationships. She was unable to retain any memories of early good experiences she has shared with her mother. The memory of being left by her mother overtook the good moments they had together when she was baby, leaving her at the mercy of the anxieties raised by the feelings of being abandoned.
Not by intention and without warning or time for preparation. Amy and her mother came back together. This showed the start of different problems. Amy became much more violent and her behaviour more deviant towards us. The feelings of anger and fear of being left again that she harboured for her mother were projected predominantly towards me. The staff and I were the ‘safe’ containers for primitive feelings of annihilation. She was distressed by the thought of her mother leaving again if she showed her anger to her. That is probably why she had to split her inner image of her mother into good and bad.
In the end she needed to keep the good memories of her mother alive in her mind. But she needed help to even remember the good times and feelings. Very simply she needed to hear her story from her mother but in the safety of it being told on her territory. I worked with Amy and her mother over several weeks to help the story unfold. At times both were unable to go on because the good memories came on the back of painful ones. Most importantly Amy was given photos of herself as a baby, she was delighted and surprised to realise her mother had kept them. Amy did benefit from knowing her story, her behaviour did calm down. Her inappropriate behaviour lessened and she began to learn and demonstrate some social graces.
Amy and her mother both had so much pain and damage; their relationship was unable to return to being close. Mother and daughter remained in contact permanently but they continue to live apart. I have remained a ‘container’ for all her precious belongings, ‘until I feel settled please’ she said.
Through my next example I illustrate how secure attachments need recognising and nurturing to keep them alive if separation occurs.
The Daisy Family: did mummy do something ‘bad’?
The following example shows how life circumstances can lead a single mother to feeling ostracised, isolated and lonely in her own hometown. Miss Daisy, a single black woman, mother of three, felt that no one in authority such as, Social Workers, Doctors and Teachers- was listening to ‘her cries for help’. Her partner had left her for another woman and did not keep contact with the children. This resulted in her becoming emotionally desperate and lonely. Desperate people often do desperate things and she did. She committed a serious criminal offence for which she was arrested. Her three children were immediately received into care. I met them very late at night when they were brought to my home. As an emergency referral I was given minimal information about the family. I was to learn most of the family story over the next few weeks, from the family. The children were tired, confused and frightened. As soon as the Social workers who brought them left, the oldest child, a girl, asked me what was happening to their mother, saying ‘has mummy done something ‘bad?’
Not only did they suffer the emotional loss but also a practical one. They were miles away from anywhere familiar and were now in a predominantly white area. This family were quite exceptional; they shared closeness I have seldom seen. They were physically affectionate and protective with each other.
Before their mother received a custodian sentence she was remanded on bail so was able to visit as often as transport allowed. Her ‘babies’ missed her so much as she did them. I witnessed their delight when she arrived and the distress when she left. They constantly talked about her with all around them. They often included her in their play. This indicated secure attachment relationships. Howerecognises that ‘Securely attached children who know that there is a secure base to which to return if things get difficult, approach new situations with greater confidence. (1995:55)
Her ‘mummy tasks’ were hugely important to her and she movingly asked me to promise I would not toilet train her youngest child because she felt that was a real ‘mummy thing to do’ Erikson (1965, cited in Carter 2003:141)recognised that ‘toilet training is an aspect of a child’s development that normally arises out of the small child’s mutually loving relationship with his or her parents and the willingness or wish to please’. Since I witnessed tender quality moments between mother and her children it was difficult for me to understand the position of certain people in authority. I was aware and subsequently concerned that she appeared to be being judged rather than being understood. Even her neighbours, friends and extended family felt the similar negative thoughts about her. Little sympathy of her situation seemed forthcoming. By the serious crime she committed she had gained a new identity.
As professionals we must acknowledge and accept that sometimes ‘mums know best’, or at the very least know their own culture better than some workers. As workers, it is all right to not know something but once we realise that we don’t know something, it is then our duty to find out in the most sensitive and appropriate manner from the best available starting place.
One of the sources of my understanding of her feelings as mother came from my personal and intimate involvement with the family. She taught me how to take care of her children’s needs, as only she knew how, e.g. favourite Caribbean food, skin and hair care. She responded positively to being welcome and included in our home, and when she was unable to visit I kept a diary of events with their drawings etc. of the children’s lives along with photographs to share with her and give her at a later date. I attempted to help her maintain her most important role; being a mother. In turn the children settled in her absence and we kept her alive in our thoughts and in their lives.
I chose the three examples because they were extreme and powerful stories and each had different attachment relationships. Choosing three stories from the hundreds of children I have met was not easy. I spent time wondering why I ruled out some particular ones, it did not take too long to realise that some were just too painful for me to bring to mind.
I have not discussed the very real problem of very difficult behaviour seen when working with troubled children. Often it is necessary to stop some unwanted bits of behaviour before the work can begin. This is an area that is very individual with each worker although there will be written policies and guidelines as to how to respond to such inappropriate behaviour, especially violence.
Winnicotts idea ‘that as a disturbed child feels hope, he must become a nuisance to his main attachment figure’ (cited in Whitwell 2002:6) links to my own thoughts over more recent years of never wanting to move a child in crisis especially through their acts of violence. What I am now much more aware of is that they are trying to communicate with us as best they can. I have felt honoured to be the chosen one. The duty is then to say to yourself; ‘right now you’ve chosen me to pick up a message, I hope I can get it right, I will try’
I recently described a situation to fellow students whilst doing this M.A. A young child had been threatening to kill me, burn my house down, and kill my family; I hastily ran through my mental list of options, none seemed to apply so I firmly and loudly told him to shut up, he burst into tears, saying, ‘I want to go home now, I miss my mum’. I was taken aback by the response of a tutor who confirmed at times we all need to bring our real self to the work, what relief I felt by having permission from someone so important, just the same as wanting constant approval from my own mother.
Always put yourself in others shoes.
If you feel that it hurts you, it probably hurts the other person too.
Anon
In this chapter I discuss how understanding that all mothers are missed even ‘bad’ mothers can help enhance the actual work we do with troubled children in therapeutic residential settings.
Perhaps it is relevant to first clarify what exactly we are hoping to achieve in the work we do. It is a frustration of the job that we seldom get to know what the real long-term outcomes are. For those of us who stay in the same area of work and living; we may find out by accident or by meeting the children of children we once knew in the same or similar circumstances within the care system.
Different ways of measuring outcomes of care have been suggested over the years, these include; figures which show how many children move out of residential homes into foster care or return home, educational attainments, or even employment status. Sometimes significant changes can be monitored on a day-to-day basis by individual workers although they can often appear very small they are not trivial.For instance if a child spends meal times being disruptive a positive outcome would be for the child to sit through a whole meal time enjoying the experience and not be disruptive. We must bear in mind that these behaviours reflect their anxieties related to separation and loss including the inner world image of their self and attachment figure who has been lost; the ‘bad’ mother.
What is hoped to be achieved could be seen in different time scales, the here and now and the future. It is easier for me to offer a general long-term aim, which would be my wish for all the children in the care system. Firstly I wish for all that they learn how to value themselves as being worthy to be loved and to be safe: that they enter adult life taking the good experience with them on their journey to help protect them for the future rejections, disappointments and loss which are all an inevitable part of life. I also hope that the children heal enough to be able to maintain fulfilling adult relationships and have a balanced relationship with society; they are able to put in as much as they take out. I hope that they are able to break the pattern and become ‘good enough’ parents without the pain of the past dictating a fear of the future. I usually meet children who bring the emotional effects of loss, I aim to say goodbye to them, whenever that may be, taking with them a suitcase of hope.
If we consider the theories of attachment it suggests to me that all may not be lost. Menzies Lyth (1988:251)recognised that ‘Workers can never equal the mother’s almost total availability to the young child since staff have limited working hours, but experience has shown that deep and meaningful attachments can be formed between the child and the assigned care-worker’
How this is able be achieved can be as individual for the workers as well as the child, the important thing is that we learn, from each other, the children and ourselves. I believe that a good starting point is to accept that all mothers are missed, even ‘bad’ mothers; once that is accepted and put together with the belief that appropriate attachment relationships are possible to be made with substitute maternal figures we can aim to recreate some pieces of their lost childhood, to rebuild, repair and calm a chaotic inner world.
In the main I do not meet happy well-adjusted children, mostly I meet them in unhappy circumstances and they have many troubles and worries, with the potential to display disruptive behaviour. I think I would be right in saying that whether I am able to plan an admission or accept a child through an emergency they do not want to meet me.
Generally I have been aware of their story, although not always, before I meet the child. I can recall occasions when I have wrongly assumed the children would be pleased that the ‘bad’ stuff has stopped or that they are going to be safe; some have even been told by families they will be ‘cured’ and then go home. Many children have blamed me for being the cause of their pain; ‘if you weren’t here I’d be living with my mum’ or the other extreme has been an overly gushing child who expresses that everything here is just perfect; ‘not like the dump I come from’. Of course these are extreme sentiments which can and do change frequently.
As workers it is essential to constantly check out the messages we are being given by the children and not assume anything. In the example of Sam one could assume that he was relieved to be away from his abusing father and non-protective mother, but in reality he missed all that was familiar to him, including his mother and father. However I propose that Sam’s situation, and many others like him, touched the inner world of workers, which in turn can either help or hinder the work. If these feelings are left unattended they may create untold complications for both worker and child. Whitwell (2002:6)helpfully says in relation to staff selection that, ‘I had to try to get across that the most difficult thing about the work is not coping with the behaviour problems of the children, but the feeling which would surface though doing the work’.
As earlier recognised it is common for children to split good and bad experiences and it is not uncommon for children to protect the reputation of their mothers (and fathers) and openly as well as unconsciously deny any bad experiences. Some may even compare how their substitute carers offer day-to-day care. One boy I recall remembered all his mothers cooking being delicious and ours was horrid; she even made better ice cubes because hers were round! Workers have to be resilient to withstand what some days can feel like swimming against the tide. Nothing offered seems enough to make a significant difference to a child’s life.
As well as it being important for workers to interpret messages given by the children; it is equally significant that we are mindful of the messages we give to the children. These can be to individuals or to a group. For instance special times of the year such as birthdays, religious celebrations can be loaded with emotion for all. Workers’ wanting to spend time with their families is to be expected, nevertheless children have to believe and therefore feel that the workers want to be with them and are not just working, say on Christmas Day, for the money.Guilt is a terrible burden for a child to carry and I have certainly witnessed children over the years feeling guilty because the workers are away from their own families.
To return to the idea that we must check out the messages it is essential that is included in effective supervision. Supervision needs to be from someone who is able to devote uninterrupted time and space to feelings, not just the practicalities of the job.
In my role of being the owner and manager of a private children’s home I am able to access resources necessary to improve my practice, the most important being good quality specific supervision that is supervision, which allows and encourages me to look at me not just the problems I experience. Wilson (2003:224) suggests that the role of a consultant can usefully be adapted to a supervisors role and notes that ‘much depends on the consultant’s capacity to provide a setting in which the consultees feel safe enough to explore and to understand the nature of their feelings and reactions to children and young people with whom they are working’.
For instance with Amy whose story I told in an earlier chapter to have the appropriate space to explore and question if a difference was being made or even able to be made, was invaluable. Time to recognise change in Amy’s behaviour, (along with mine plus staff) no matter how small, was so precious, and effective. I was only able to sustain the task of being the container of so much of Amy’s pain with effective supervision. When Amy became very violent both physically and verbally specifically to me I struggled to understand that this was not personal; I really felt she was ‘picking’ on me. My supervisor identified her projections; I was the ‘bad’ mother offering a safe place for her to put her anxieties.
It is not always easy to understand how or why a child wants to portray their previous experiences as ‘good’ and at times even harder to contemplate that an abusing parent can be missed. Pooley (2003:187) succinctly offers that ‘the child will, whether we wish it or not, place great importance upon his or her family of origin.
My supervisor at that time recognised that I was beginning to appear frightened of what could/would happen next. He encouraged me to talk about my worst fears, with and for Amy; he gave me permission to not always like her. Whitwell (1998:104) usefully recognises that working with a violent child can lead the staff to wish the child to be moved, ‘unable to cope with their increasingly murderous attacks on them. Maybe on the other hand, the staff feel unable to contain their murderous impulses towards them.’ Moving a child may solve the immediate problem for the staff but does little for the child except add another rejection and increase feelings of not being valued. I have consistently resisted moving children in crisis. However I accept for some moving may be the best answer, if so it should be planned carefully and sensitively.
Previous carers had commented on Amy’s eyes, she had a way of looking at people that was described as ‘giving me the creeps’ or ‘she’s odd’: worse descriptions were also put forward. Once I had been able to identify the mystery about her eye expressions I felt more at ease to be on the receiving end of them. Amy’s eyes were too old for her young years; her eyes matched her inappropriate adult experiences rather than her little age. I needed to look behind her old eyes. Her childhood had been stolen.
My supervisor helped me explore why I was ‘the chosen one’ to carry her pain for her. As well as giving me time to discuss how I felt I was helped to decode the messages Amy was giving me. I came to realise that if I felt so awful being on the outside of Amy, being on the inside must be dreadful for her. She was ‘allowing’ me to feel what it was like to be her. Unconsciously she had thought I was able to bear her unbearable pain and not be annihilated. This was a difficult time that needed increased individual supervision together with occasional group staff supervision. The focus of staff supervision was the children/adult dynamics as opposed to staff meetings where inevitable practical issues need to be organised agreed and sorted. A supportive staff team is an essential ingredient to surviving this work. The most important thing, which we had to accept, was this situation was not going to alter quickly or easily.
It is necessary to view,and can helpfully be done in supervision, each child as a whole person; someone who carries more in their make up than the awful experiences they have suffered. There is a danger for instance that a child’s identity becomes their experience. For example a child who has been abused may have some wonderful qualities such as kindness, humour, thoughtfulness, academic abilities, even hidden talents. The danger is that they are not seen as a child who has been abused but as an abused child. This response may relate to our defence mechanisms unable to stomach the truth of their dreadful stories. Referring to hospital staff needing to protect themselves from the reality of pain and death, Obholzer (1994:174) states ‘What they are expressing is a denial’ If workers can balance; encouraging the hidden and unrecognised bits, with sympathy and understanding for the dreadful bits the child may eventually believe they hold something within themselves worth being loved and valued.
Each child’s story is personal to them, is their truth and their history. There have been many I have met who have not suffered horrific abuse but their situations have been similarly tragic and damaging. In the eyes of those in authority the children have not been receiving ‘good enough’ parenting at home and have been seen to be ‘at risk’ of harm, either in or outside their home and have subsequently been received into the care system. These situations are complicated; the child can perceive itself as being ‘bad’ and being ‘thrown out of the nest’, others, such as staff and the child, can unconsciously and consciously see the mother (or both parents) as ‘bad’ for abandoning the child. I have seen families who existed in volatile discord suddenly unite and declare undying love for each other and the ‘social’ are the ‘f…. bastards who take the kids away’.
In all situations the aim of the job we, as residential workers in therapeutic settings, are asked to do should be crystal clear so that everyone involved has the same agenda and are singing from the same hymn sheet. For that reason, if the expectation is for the child to return home that would suggest work with the child should not take place in isolation to work with the family.
Attending school functions such as parents’ evenings, sport day’s religious festivals, are vitally important, how we (as workers) are known or introduced to friends and playmates are very important. Children who remain in residential care should be able to feel all right about where they live, feel able to invite school friends home for tea or an overnight stay. The trick for workers is to be able to look at the child from the inside out. We see others stories from a spectators position, a very different place to the child’s view/feeling point. A 13-year-old child who was consistently let down by his mother over a long period of time gave the following to me. His view of his mother was different to my view of her.
L ove you
O ur bond is inseparable
V ery glad to hear from you
E ven though I have not seen you for a long time I still
Love you
Y ou are the best
O ne and only Mum
U are the best Mum in the world
I have considered what should be done; now I look at the possibilities of how it could be done.
In relation to how understanding all mothers are missed and considering how this belief can shape and enhance the work we do with troubled children in therapeutic residential settings we need to be mindful of the individual care plans. Many children that I have known have returned to their biological families, mostly their mothers even though some have had no contact for many years. It is also relevant to note that sometimes there have been legitimate reasons for the lack of contact. However, Hinings (1996:102) states that ‘evidence from research suggests that the child benefits from a continuing relationship with an absent parent whatever the reason for the separation’. Maintaining contact may not always be possible but with imagination it may be possible to openly recognise with the child that they miss their mother, and family. One useful tool to achieve this is Life Story work, it is important to be guided by the child as to what pace this takes place. Ward’s (1998) idea of ‘opportunity led’ work can be a useful lead for this. I also accept that there is a place for a more ‘structured’ approach.
It is helpful to be sure in our minds the reason why accepting this belief is significant. I have seen children return to situations where they were ill prepared and ill informed about their mother, for example how many partners and/or children she had during their separation. Due to constraints of resources for children leaving care they may return to their mother either literally or geographically though familiarity, unreal (or real) expectations of being welcomed home, or through sheer loneliness. I have also known young people be expected to return to provide for their mother, financially, to help with siblings and companionship. During the time we work with children in residential care if we are aware of the possibility of the child returning we could aim to prepare them to help them feel good enough about themselves to make informed choices.
We should try to hear unspoken words and try to name the unrecognised and unfamiliar feelings. We must learn to be responsive and try to interpret what a child may be attempting to communicate and avoid repeating their early experiences of being rejected, neglected or abandoned, even in conversation. The effect of not being heard or seen is as awful as the ‘The hopelessness of not being believed’ (Ward 1998:13) This sentiment can be found in the children’s’ story from ‘Tales from Moomin Valley, ‘you all know, don’t you, that if people are frightened very often, they sometimes become invisible,’ I have been told by more than one child that they have thought no one could see them, more importantly they have felt not important to be seen.
If we view difficult behaviour, as Dockar-Drysdale (1990:127) offers, ‘all acting out is a break down in communication’ it makes sense to accept ‘it is our responsibility to keep in communication with the children in our care’. Putting into words to a child, what we think is being communicated is an appropriate way of checking out whether or not we are picking up the right message. For instance if a child has great difficulty settling at bed time it is worth saying ‘I think you are frightened of going to sleep because?’ Knowledge of the child’s story may enable this guessing to be fairly accurate. The issue then is how to help this stop. Reassurance is never a waste of time For example, a child can be reassured that someone will be there for them when they wake up, or reassurance that nothing ‘bad’ will happen if they have an ‘accident’ during the night. I knew a child who forced himself to stay awake to avoid nightmares, in the calmness of waking hours together we make a ‘dream machine’ that he would fill with a variety of symbolic items to remind him of happy events or things. Each night he would chose from his dream machine, what he wanted to think of as he fell asleep. I recall other children who have been unable to recognise their own feelings such as happy, sad or angry. In some situations this can also affect children not knowing if they feel unwell, hungry, hot or cold. Putting names to feelings connected to symptoms can help children begin to be in touch with them. This process after a time can then be helped along by asking the child to try to name how they feel. As one child once told me, ‘I feel upsad when my mummy doesn’t phone’.
One teenage girl told me she did not want to talk about her feelings with anyone other than the therapist she saw weekly. On the one hand this was respected, on the other hand a difficult situation as her feelings did not only occur once a week. Between her therapist and myself we made a ‘feelings box’ together with a ‘feelings book’. She was encouraged to write or draw her thoughts and/or feelings; weekly she would take these to her therapist. Gerhardt (2004:149) puts forward the idea that, ‘being the object of others’ negative attention or being disregarded is like an acid which eats away at self-esteem’. This negative self-image for a child to carry is so destructive and can dominate a child’s thinking, making each part of a day a struggle. Consideration to each part of each day is essential. Meal, bath and bed times are classic times to trigger memories, either happy or sad.
Sensitivity, awareness, alertness and imagination are some useful qualities for workers to have to help avoid traumatic situations. Each child deserves to feel they are important and special. Special enough to be comforted when upset, fed when hungry, cleaned when dirty – to recreate what they may or may not have experienced as a baby in a positive manner. Inevitably there is an unpleasant, at times, dirty side to residential work. The therapeutic intervention being how this is delivered. Situations such as dealing with children whose bodily functions are at times anti-social can be difficult to be completed without showing an expression of dislike. A possible solution could be to actual say what is unpleasant and allow the child to join in the ‘conversation’. If a child has soiled itself, maybe something like, ‘this isn’t the best perfume I’ve smelt all day, lets see if we can make it better’. Accepting not judging is the key issue; that is responding to the task in hand not reacting to the unpleasantness.
The majority of children I have cared for in recent years receive therapy from an outside therapist. I often experience a decline in their behaviour as they ‘they discover themselves and they become a nuisance’ (Whitwell 2004:20) Working closely with the therapist and within the necessary boundaries of confidentiality can be beneficial to the overall therapeutic approach to helping troubled children.
In this chapter I separated the worker and the child in order to put the two together to consider the actual work. The approaches I have offered can only be achieved within an environment where the child can begin to feel safe and valued. There are no simple instructions of what, how and when to intervene therapeutically. Nevertheless there are plenty of excellent of examples to be learnt from which can helpfully find a home in our memories to build a repertoire of coping techniques, to be called on at appropriate times. It is useful to transfer Winnicott’s idea of ‘good enough’ mothering to ‘good enough caring’ and accept that there will be times when workers do not get things right. Whitwell (2004:20) acknowledges, ‘You must have a proportion of failures and again this is something you have to survive in order to enjoy the occasional success’
Sometimes the sorrow of the work we do can take over the entire day. It is important to occasionally aim for the magic of an ordinary day, where fun and laughter dominate and each child can be childish and child like. In any one-day there may be many opportunities for a worker to seize the moment and intervene appropriately; this may be for deep and meaningful conversations or just the opportunity to simply be.
A common trait of residential workers is that while we deal with the joys and sorrows of others we need reminding to attend to own. We have a lot of negative things thrown our way; sometimes literally, feelings evoked and provoked should not be ignored if our wish is to continue to be affective in helping troubled children.
A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted
to be that profound secret and mystery to every other.
Charles Dickens (A tale of Two Cities)
I started with the idea that ‘all mothers are missed, even ‘bad’ ones.’ I have looked at the literature, which informs us of the benefits of children forming secure attachments with their mothers. I have also questioned who suggests some mothers are ‘bad’ for example, the child, the professional or the mother herself. The mother–child relationship is so very unique. Men are part of creating a life but (nowadays) can be completely anonymous, women give life. Even if a woman is helped through various fertility procedures, she still offers a safe ‘home’ for the baby to grow. It is impossible for a woman to have a child without knowing it, not so of a man. I have acknowledged that the bonding process between mother and child can start during pregnancy. So, it seems to me that mothers are quite exceptional, (and possibly for some burdened), with the ‘specialness’ of giving life.
The knowledge we acquire from the literature I have covered offers us the opportunity to be able to understand and communicate with the troubled young people in the most effective way. For instance, to understand our own inner world enhances our chances of understanding the inner worlds of traumatised children, If we do not allow ourselves time to reflect and get to know ourselves we can run the risk of ‘allowing’ our own pasts to be resurrected. The danger being this may happen at uninvited and unexpected times, perhaps at an inappropriate time while interacting with a child who has possibly ‘triggered’ a memory or a feeling. A child may unconsciously transfer their negative ‘stuff’. It is important at this stage to be able to recognise what is happening and be able to resist the projection. This process can be helped by workers being able to not only contain the children in their care but also contain each other.
Writing this dissertation has been both painful and invigorating. On my journey through doing this M.A. my thoughts have been catapulted back to my own childhood as well as necessarily recalling memories of children I have met. The overriding issue, which has constantly arisen in is that this work involves giving the ‘real’ bits of ourselves. This study has shown that In order to do this effectively it is important to look at the development of our own inner world.
Because the heart of therapeutic childcare is separation and loss it inevitably carries much pain. Equally it can carry rewards and joy. There is no ‘quick fix’ ‘the process of coming to terms with pain, loss, trauma or abuse is complicated, lengthy, not always visible and certainly not necessarily verbalised.’ (Alveraz 1992:51) It may be helpful to set out sights further in time. To achieve the longer term goals it is important to work in partnership with other professionals involved with individual children and their families. This may involve geographical, financial and emotional issues to be resolved but for positive outcomes is essential. I have mentioned a long-term hope I have of children in our care being able to lead good enough lives as adults and parents. I am aware of the circumstances of some of the young people who have been in my care. The ones I know of’ are all parents, most importantly the care they are giving to their children is ‘good enough’ and I have not met them through the care system. Therefore their children may not experience a situation where they miss their mothers.
All residential work is demanding. Using a therapeutic approach suggests we are not only trying to understand and help children and their families but also ourselves and colleagues. On top of all this there is a need to pay attention to the ordinary events of life, which come under the umbrella of nurturing. Some days it is hard to find the right balance: confusion and muddle preside. As workers we can feel as if we do know if we are on ‘our head or our heels’.
As in a children’s story, a similar fate fell on the worm: ‘which end is your tail’ asked Rose ‘Oh dear’, said Mud-Wiggle, ‘I’ll wear my hat, so you know which end is which’ (Spike Milligan 1987),
…… Maybe I should wear a hat.
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