I grew up wanting to help, originally wanting to do something with animals, but then switching to people later on. What really solidified my passion to help was a phone call I picked up on my mom’s recently reconnected home phone line when I was in college. A woman named Jennifer, not familiar to me, asked to speak to my mom. They talked for nearly an hour, and afterward, I asked my mom about her.
“One night, Jennifer whispered to my mom that she was ready. Her husband had just broken her arm in front of the kids… My mom explained that Jennifer had a habit in the following years of calling her when she got scared, and my mom would reassure her and get her in contact with the people that she needed.”
In the mid-1990s, when I was in second or third grade, my mom was a DFCS social worker who investigated claims of child abuse. She worked in rural Georgia counties where people were often armed and very unhappy to see her show up at their door. She was sent to Jennifer and her husband’s house, and it became immediately clear that Jennifer was being abused by her husband and mother-in-law. Her adolescent sons were learning that they could treat her badly, too. They would lock her in the house when they left and take every phone cord so she couldn’t call for help. My mom and Jennifer connected, much to her husband’s displeasure. After gaining her trust, my mom slipped Jennifer a phone cord and her home phone number and told her to call when she was ready to get out.
One night, Jennifer whispered to my mom that she was ready. Her husband had just broken her arm in front of the kids. Mom called the local sheriff for an escort and got ready. They went to the house and got Jennifer and her sons out. My mom tapped into local resources to get Jennifer a car, an apartment, a job, an attorney who got her a divorce and custody of her sons, and her husband went to jail.
My mom explained that Jennifer had a habit in the following years of calling her when she got scared-usually when her husband would call from prison making baseless threats-and my mom would reassure her and get her in contact with the people that she needed.
When Jennifer called that day and I answered, it had been nearly 20 years since they first met. Over these years, Jennifer kept my mom’s home phone number and knew that she could call it when she was frightened or needed an answer. Hearing that story from my mom solidified that this field is where my heart wanted to go.
I’m so happy and proud to be a part of this organization, and that I get to create an echo of the impact that my mom made. Getting to know my clients, telling them that they can always call me when they get scared or need an answer, fulfills me more than any other job I can imagine.
