Between a Social Worker and a Stakeholder: The Dynamics of Relationships
Every day, we navigate a series of roles, each tailored to fit the social and professional spheres we inhabit. From the clothes we choose to the language we adopt; each act is a performance tailored to the audience before us. It’s as simple as wearing a bindi when we go to a wedding but a blazer at an interview or swapping an “aama” for an “achha” with that one friend from Delhi. Daily, in interactions with different people in various places, I maneuver in and out of roles and corresponding personalities. I adopt codes of clothing, speaking, and moving with ease, barely breaking a sweat juggling “who I am.”
Except when it comes to work. I work with the Communities Enabling Foundational Learning project at the Madhi Foundation, which aims to support parent engagement in foundational learning and to enable parents to demand quality primary education in the ecosystem. By equipping parents with essential tools and fostering their agency, the foundation seeks to create a demand for improved foundational literacy and numeracy outcomes. I believe this community-centric model not only aims to elevate educational standards but also to build a sustainable ecosystem where parents are empowered to actively participate in and influence their children’s learning journey.
My work involves regular travel for visits and conversations with parents, local leaders, community members, and our field team. On travel days, picking out aversion of myself isn’t without a moral debate. The task of aligning my personal identity with my professional role becomes a dance of authenticity and perception. The certainty of my role wavers: Who am I going to be today? Who must I be to connect, belong, and, most importantly, make a meaningful difference?
My work involves regular travel for visits and conversations with parents, local leaders, community members, and our field team. On travel days, picking out a version of myself isn’t without a moral debate. The task of aligning my personal identity with my professional role becomes a dance of authenticity and perception. The certainty of my role wavers: Who am I going to be today? Who must I be to connect, belong, and, most importantly, make a meaningful difference?
I pick from a set of cheap cotton Kurtis and pants, a dupatta that deliberately doesn’t match and wear no kajal. I prepare myself for entire conversations without using a word of English and consciously avoid mentioning where I live, how much I make,
and whether I’m married or have kids to hide my reality of being an urban-bred “modern” woman. Ironically, I also prepare myself to come off as less private or reserved than I usually am in an attempt to be accepted or listened to. Yet, despite all my efforts to supposedly “fit in,” on certain occasions, I stuck out like a sore thumb. My ankle-length pants were discussed for missing two inches; it was assumed that I would have a problem walking in the sun or sitting on the floor, and I constantly heard, “You wouldn’t understand.” The personas I donned didn’t seem to fit physically or culturally!
I received a lot of well-meaning advice at the time that to work with communities, I had to be a “part” of the community. However, I wasn’t sure what that meant, especially when I didn’t have the option of physically relocating to live there. Not to mention, I was working with six different communities. There was no handbook for me at the time prescribing that I had to undergo this process of creating an alternate identity to work with communities. Yet, somehow, it was a deeply ingrained belief—I had to hide parts of myself. Despite doing this knowingly or unknowingly in other parts of my life, here, it didn’t feel okay.
This feeling of sticking out, despite my best efforts, underscores a broader challenge identified by Miu Chang Yun. Yun’s exploration of cultural tensions in social work practice explores the cultural tensions between social workers, clients, organizations, and society. He finds that “the cultural tensions caused by cultural similarities and differences between workers and their clients may be the most complicated and critical tensions that social workers have to encounter in their daily practice.” These tensions can stem from cultural differences or sameness in ethnicity, age, gender, language, race, socio-economic class, caste, religion, nationality, and more. </p?
In my case, I am walking the line between differences and sameness. On one hand, sharing the same nationality, language, and gender makes it easy to feel like there is a mutual understanding or shared experience. On the other hand, differences in caste, socio-economic class, age, and the urban/rural divide highlight the underlying differences. It sometimes becomes really hard to navigate my own understanding of where our mutual and shared experiences end and the differences begin. This also makes it challenging to identify where the blurred edges between personal and professional boundaries exist in these interactions.
However, there is more to this cultural tension than meets the eye. The paper “Social Worker Identity: A Profession in Context” spells out a simple truth—the nature of social work is that the communities/groups we work with are often marginalized or oppressed. Organizations often work with groups that are oppressed on grounds of race, caste, class, gender, religion, and more.
Yan also finds that social workers are hardly culturally neutral because of their embodied socio-organizational and professional cultural baggage (and the nature of their work with the communities). Extrapolating from this thought, we begin to see the cultural tensions as not merely personal but rooted deeper in the making of my role and the profession itself. Having agency over the organizational resources, stepping into the communities with a predetermined program objective and design, and taking on the role of an “expert” comes with an ingrained paternalistic attitude.
The insight from Yan regarding the inherent lack of cultural neutrality among social workers resonates deeply with my experiences. Reflecting on my position vis-à-vis the parents I work with, notions of creating empowerment and agency began to feel flimsy. In our drive for professionalization, we have replaced moral superiority with professional expertise and preserved our power to define the client, the reality, and the therapy (Hartman, 1993). With this much baggage tailing us in every conversation, is wearing a dupatta really what makes me more “the same”?
Cultural tensions require a high level of sensitivity for social workers to reflect on their own cultural positions. Therefore, it is not surprising that cultural awareness becomes a key requirement for social work practitioners (Yan, 2008). One must engage in critical dialogue with oneself about their own cultural positioning and standing and arising tensions before beginning to enmesh with and untangle the cultural tensions that arise when interacting with communities they work with.
Recognizing the need for heightened sensitivity to navigate cultural tensions, I turned to Lum’s formative work “Culturally Competent Practice” for guidance—a framework in which Cultural Awareness is a key component, and “professional self- disclosure” is a skill that Lum believes all social workers must have. The skill to take initiative in building a relationship with the client by disclosing a mutual area of interest—not pretending to have something in common, but actually finding what that common ground is. Which, in hindsight, seems obvious because relationships are built on honesty and transparency as much as they are on relatability. Beyond that, why do we underestimate people’s abilities to be receptive to others who aren’t like them?
Some of Lum’s suggestions, which I found useful were:
Approaching every interpersonal helping practice relationship with an awareness of who you are as a cultural self and what you have to offer as a helping person. This helps remove any disillusioned notion of being culturally neutral and identify one’s own agency and limitations. Find out what is similar and common between you as the worker and the person as the client, but also explore differences, respecting them and learning from them. Reflecting on Lum’s suggestions, I found parallels with my earlier dilemmas regarding authenticity in interaction. His advice prompts a reconsideration of my approach, moving away from superficial adjustments. This can look like
engaging in an honest conversation about why I haven’t got married yet or being honest about not wanting to discuss it. We’d also bond over our experiences with the children around us—my students and nieces/nephews and their children. Through these conversations, I’ve received feedback from community members that they feel more comfortable being themselves around me.
Understanding and respecting how each of us constructed and shaped our multiple identities and how social, political, and historical forces have impacted and caused us to be who we are today. The goal is for the client to be empowered, not for me to be an empowerer. I’ve approached this by co-creating elements of the core project design with community members, constantly asking for feedback and implementing it, and being honest about what is within my locus of control. To me, this is a step towards creating shared agency and sustainable change.
In the ever-evolving landscape of social work, the pursuit of cultural competence demands both professional and personal commitment. Reflecting on our daily interactions, we must ask ourselves: How do our cultural backgrounds and biases shape the way we engage with those we aim to serve? This question, though potentially unsettling, should inspire deeper introspection and learning.
We must know ourselves and be ourselves, having faith that clients can accept and work with us even if we are different, as long as we share the same goals. Additionally, we must understand the structures and constraints of the institutions we work in, acknowledging that these institutions can contribute to problems as well as solutions. Most importantly, we must accept that a client may not always find us the best person to work with, and in such cases, we should help them find who or what will work best