Jacked Up

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Jacked Up!1 Margriet de Zeeuw Wright and Terry A. Wolfer

In April 2016, Jessica Wilson and her classmates were about to conclude their bi-

weekly field seminar at Florida State University College of Social Work. She was feeling

a sense of relief that the morning session was almost over. As it ended, she rose quickly

and stretched her legs. Turning to her friend, Caroline, Jessica said, “I saw a kid get

jacked up at field last week . . .”

Overhearing the comment, Dr. Paxton shot a look that conveyed her concern, a

signal the discussion was not over and about to turn serious.

Pausing mid-sentence, Jessica felt a simultaneous mix of dread and relief. How can I

put those words back in my mouth? she wondered, but then realized, I need to get this

off my chest.

One by one, her classmates sat back down in their seats. Lunch would have to wait.

The South Town Clergy Group and the Social Work Initiative in South Town

The South Town Clergy (SoToC) group was an informal gathering of Christian

pastors in the southwest area of Tallahassee that formed out of an interest to serve their

communities. The small group of clergy met every other month to support each other

and share Thanksgiving service and the Week for Christian Unity every January. The

SoToC group was composed of pastors of small churches (average Sunday attendance

ranged from 75-200 worshippers) including some historically white and some

historically African American congregations. This consortium of engaged local

congregations included Zion Moriah AME Church, Freedom Church, Faith Lutheran,

Grace Lutheran, and First Presbyterian Church.

The Social Work Initiative in South Town (SWIST) grew out of the SoToC group. In

fall 2014, Presbyterian pastor Paul Rutter, attended a workshop on congregational social

work and sat next to Dr. Sarah Paxton, a clinical professor at FSU College of Social

Work. Longtime friends, they discovered mutual interest in placing field students in

congregations to build on existing social capital, and he arranged for Dr. Paxton to speak

to the SoToC group. Beginning in spring 2015, Dr. Paxton met with the clergy group for

five months to discuss the feasibility of organizing a grassroots faith-based initiative. A

representative mix of Caucasian (including Rutter and Paxton) and African American

1 Development of this decision case was supported in part by the University of South Carolina

College of Social Work. It was prepared solely to provide material for class discussion and not to

suggest either effective or ineffective handling of the situation depicted. While based on field

research regarding an actual situation, names and certain facts may have been disguised to

protect confidentiality. The authors wish to thank the two anonymous case reporters for

cooperation in making this account available for the benefit of social work students and

instructors.

© Margriet de Zeeuw Wright and Terry A. Wolfer

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community partners participated. Eventually they developed the terms of SWIST, its

initial mission statement, name, goals, and field placement contracts. Pastors would

serve as Field Preceptors (i.e. task supervisors) and Dr. Paxton would serve as Field

Instructor.

The mission of SWIST was to enhance the social, economic, and spiritual lives of

congregants and local communities by providing congregational social work services in

collaboration with clergy. The initiative worked in partnership with FSU’s College of

Social Work to provide advanced-year field placements for motivated students who

demonstrated cultural competence in congregational settings. The goal of the field

placements was to prepare social workers to serve within congregational-community

settings. It was expected that each student would be a self-starter and be able to work

independently, as the initiative found its stride in each congregation and within the

wider community. In addition to assisting with the development, implementation,

maintenance, and evaluation of social work and case management services within the

congregational setting, students would also be responsible for community networking,

and public media duties.

Reverend Brown, Zion Moriah AME Church, and the Helping Hands Child

Development Center

One member of the SoToC group was The Reverend Mr. Jeremiah Brown. Born,

raised, and educated in Florida, Reverend Brown answered the call to ministry in 1995

and was called to serve Zion Moriah African Methodist Episcopal Church in 2010. He

focused his ministry on growth and social justice and he was affectionately known by

his congregants as the pastor with the beaming smile. Reverend Brown was a single

African American father in his sixties.

Zion Moriah AME Church was an historic African American congregation; its

history was woven into the history of African American people in the state of Florida.

Average Sunday attendance was typically 60-70 parishioners, and reflected the nature of

small congregations where parishioners not only waved and said good morning to one

another, they knew one another.

Zion Moriah was located in a neighborhood with mostly low income African-

American and Hispanic residents. The surrounding community had challenges. High

rates of alcohol and drug use reflected supply and demand in the area. During the

daytime, most members felt safe in the neighborhood, especially when accompanied by

someone else, but they were less inclined to venture out at night.

To respond to community needs the church offered outreach programs such as

classes and workshops, as well as a weekday lunch program. The feeding program was

for young and old alike; folks just needed to sign-in so the church could keep a record.

Another part of parish life, and one of the ministries at Zion Moriah, was the Helping

Hands Child Development Center.

Helping Hands served families of children age 0-4 during the daytime, and children

up to the age of 12 after school. On paper, Helping Hands served 80 children but only 30

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to 40 attended regularly. A number of those travelled more than 30 minutes to the

center. Funding for Helping Hands was tenuous because it came primarily from parent

fees.

Miss Ja’Nae Jackson was the Director of Helping Hands. She was an African

American woman in her early thirties. She grew up in the community and was familiar

with most of the families served at Helping Hands. But she was new to the position

because the previous director had been let go in the past year. Under Miss Ja’Nae’s

supervision, there were four workers looking after the center’s children.

The staff included Miss Hattie Williams, who had been with Helping Hands for six

years after a career in special education. Even casual observers noted that Miss Hattie,

an imposing African American woman in her sixties, wore an air of experience and

authority like women in the south wore their hats to church on Sunday – confidently.

Indeed, Miss Hattie was sometimes mistaken for one of the pastors on staff, and while

she was a pastor at another local congregation, her role at Zion Moriah was confined to

working with the children. That said, workers knew they could often find her hanging

out in the church office to be near Reverend Brown. Her colleagues chose to not say

anything however, as Miss Hattie was a mighty matriarchal presence.

Another worker was Miss Tawana Simmons, the Special Education Instructor, and

new to working at Helping Hands. She was an African American woman in her late

thirties. She had a child that attended the afterschool program. She had told Dr. Paxton

that she was excited about sharing her knowledge of child development with the social

work students, and helping them identify what this looked like in real time with the

center’s children. If the truth be told, Miss Tawana also felt they could use some extra

hands around the center, as they were a bit short staffed at the time.

When Dr. Paxton and the SoToC group discussed the use of social work students in

field placements, Reverend Brown and the Director, Miss Ja’Nae, agreed on the

condition that they wanted social work students to assist with the children and parents

of Helping Hands as needed.

Jessica Wilson

Jessica Wilson was a 26-year-old African American woman in her advanced year of a

Masters of Social Work Program at FSU. She had a broad smile and a ready laugh that

came from years of practice. With a bright mind and the good sense to think before

speaking, she exuded confidence, at least under most circumstances. Jessica grew up in

Sumter County, a small, predominantly African American rural county in the Black Belt

region of western Alabama. Originally named for its rich black topsoil, the name was

later associated with cotton plantations and the slaves who built the economy. Jessica

and her family had deep roots in the area. She came from a successful family of long-

time residents and property owners, but not everyone in Sumter County had the same

experiences. The area lay within a neglected region for public schools. In 2011, after

years of debate, lawsuits and appeals over equity funding in education that literally put

centuries of Alabama history on trial, a federal judge decided the plaintiffs were not

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entitled to relief from the court and changes to school funding would not be made.

After high school, Jessica left home to study business at Athens State University.

After two years, with the support of her family, she transferred out-of-state as she said,

“for the sake of my business career.” Her father had always told her, “Jessica, if you

want to be a professional basket weaver, you go be the best basket weaver you can be!”

After graduation, it was difficult to find work because the Great Recession had a

stranglehold on new job opportunities. Desperate, she finally found employment with

an entertainment company in Orlando. But two years later, with too many rules, high

employee turnover, no encouragement to grow, and stress-related sleep problems,

Jessica was ready for a different challenge.

Despite reservations about the low pay, Jessica decided to follow in her mother’s

footsteps and become a social worker. She enrolled in the MSW program at FSU and

chose the Children, Youth, and their Families Specialization. She completed her first

field placement at a local elementary school classroom designed for children living with

emotional, behavioral and developmental disabilities. There, she learned appropriate

procedures for least restrictive restraints and got the message, “Don’t put your hands on

other people’s children.”

Near the end of the academic year, Dr. Paxton, who was also a Field Seminar

Instructor, encouraged Jessica to apply for an advanced-year field placement at SWIST.

Dr. Paxton sought a racially diverse group of students to work with the newly formed

initiative to fit the demographics of South Town. She liked Jessica’s approach to social

work practice and appreciated her experience and interest in working with children and

youth. Further, she saw Jessica as a self-starter. With her background in business and

marketing, Jessica could be helpful in getting this new grassroots faith-based organizing

initiative off the ground. Beyond that, Dr. Paxton thought Jessica was able to set

boundaries and had a strong sense of ethics and integrity. She seemed to be a good fit.

From Jessica’s perspective, the placement matched her career goals of working with

children, youth, and their families and also getting an opportunity to try macro-level

work related to race and reconciliation and issues of health coverage.

In the spring of 2015, Jessica felt honored to be one of the first field students selected

for the SWIST. She really wanted the initiative to do some good work while she was

associated with it. She was glad that another social work student, Ciera Washington,

was also going to be starting at the same time. By September, after several weeks in the

placement, Jessica was enjoying the variety it offered. She met with the consortium’s

clergy and community partners. Her interests in race and reconciliation and health care

coverage were timely given public discourse begun by the Black Lives Matter Movement

and President Obama’s Affordable Care Act. Jessica felt good about her choice of career

and placement.

Signs of Trouble

In late November, even though this was not part of her placement duties, Jessica was

staffing the front desk of Helping Hands over the lunch hour. It’s part of being helping

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hands, she thought, when she agreed to cover the desk. Some of these women don’t get

a break all day, it’s not their fault that there’s not coverage. It seems like everyone just

helps out where they can. A white woman entered the building. Out of the corner of her

eye, Jessica saw a colleague, Ebony Jones, frantically motioning for her to come to the

kitchen. Jessica quickly got up and joined her.

“What was that all about?” she asked.

“Technically,” Ebony said, “you aren’t supposed to be sitting at the front desk

because you’re not on the roster. You’ll have to talk with Miss Ja’Nae about that.”

When she got a chance the next day, Jessica went by Miss Ja’Nae’s office and

broached the subject. “Ebony told me that I couldn’t sit at the desk because I am not on

the roster. Can you explain to me what that means?”

“Well, it happened before you or I were here,” she explained. “We’re being

monitored by the Department of Children & Families because of a fairly serious safety

violation that occurred here. It led to the previous Director leaving. As a result, only

rostered employees are authorized to be in the front area.”

“Do you think I could get rostered?” Jessica asked.

“You could,” Miss Ja’Nae responded, “but that would involve a background check

and that’s more than we’re willing to pay for right now.”

“But I’ve been credentialed,” Jessica went on, “I’ve had a FDLE check and completed

the Safeguarding program. What more do I need to do to get rostered?”

“There’s more to it than that,” Miss Ja’Nae said. Then she turned back to her work,

leaving Jessica to see herself out.

What was that all about and what am I supposed to do now? That was pretty dismissive and

I still don’t have a good answer for myself or for Ciera about becoming fully rostered workers.

So for the time, it was clear to Jessica that whenever a Caucasian woman dropped by

unannounced, she was to make herself scarce. Helping Hands would be up for licensing

review shortly, and Jessica understood that staff simply wanted to get to the other side

of that. Regardless of the specific behind-the-scenes organizational dynamics, it seemed

clear to Jessica that the families needed and the children benefitted from the center’s

programs.

New Incidents

Jessica enjoyed the placement, and her time passed quickly. One April afternoon,

late in the school year, Jessica made her way back into the common space for the

afterschool program. That day, about 25 children were busy working on their reading

programs and vocabulary. Miss Hattie was already there giving directions with a

commanding voice. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Jessica saw Miss Hattie

forcefully lift four-year-old Deon Davis with one hand and put his back against the wall.

But almost as quickly, Miss Hattie put Deon down and grabbed him in a big bear

hug. Jessica wondered if that was a response to her arrival in the room.

What just happened? Jessica froze, momentarily confused.

Oh, that’s a lawsuit, Jessica thought. But almost immediately, she wondered, Do I say

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something or not? If I get involved will she take it that I’m telling her what to do? I only have a

few weeks left and I’m going to see her everyday I’m here.

Fifteen minutes later, Jessica was still mulling over what had happened when she

saw Miss Hattie approach a boy and girl sitting next to one another and backhand the

leg of one of the children. Jessica didn’t know which child was hit because she couldn’t

see whose leg it was, and no one cried. Jessica doubted there was bruising. Besides, she

justified, it’s not uncommon for black children to be handled a little rougher. My grandmother

kept a switch by the chair and I knew what boundaries to cross and which ones not to cross. It’s

not a thing, really, unless you’re actually leaving bruises or marks. Still, the incident nagged at

her.

Did they see it? Jessica looked around and saw other staff members in the area. Why

didn’t anyone respond? I wish that Miss Tawana was here. I’m sure she would know what to do,

if anything. But I’m the only one reacting. If I say anything, they would know it was me. Is this

really a big deal? Am I being culturally competent?

Later, as she reflected on the situation, Jessica realized Helping Hands simply didn’t

have the staff it needed. Do you get rid of somebody? If you lose another person, do you have a

bigger problem? Or do you keep the person, let whatever happens happen, as long as no one says

anything?

Over the next few days, Jessica held her thoughts until they interfered with her

sleep. She tossed and turned, vacillating between, They need to do something, and, Do I

need to do something? Jessica envisioned images of the caring hands of the center staff and

Miss Hattie’s hands on other people’s children. It was a matter of trust. It was a matter

of taking sides . . . black or white. If I say something, will I be identified with the white

woman from DCF, and be seen as an outsider? Things are already under investigation here, and I

know how things can get blown out of proportion when folks don’t have all the facts. What more

do I need to do? But if I don’t say something, are there children here who might be in harm’s

way? What are their chances in life and who is standing up for them? What’s my ethical and

professional obligation here as a mandated reporter? Like Deon, she felt the ground disappear

beneath her feet. Is speaking up a matter of social justice or would that make me an ethnic

traitor? Which tribe do you belong to, Jessica, you gotta pick a side. But my position is part of a

new initiative, could whistleblowing put this in jeopardy? Oh, why couldn’t I have gotten out of

here before this happened?

Field Seminar

The next week, Jessica attended field seminar at FSU. She was feeling a sense of relief

that the morning session was almost over. As it ended, she rose quickly and stretched

her legs. Turning to her friend, Caroline, Jessica said, “I saw a kid get jacked up at field

last week . . .”

Overhearing the comment, Dr. Paxton shot a look that conveyed her concern, a

signal the discussion was not over and about to turn serious.

Pausing mid-sentence, Jessica felt a simultaneous mix of dread and relief. How can I

put those words back in my mouth? she wondered, but then realized, I need to get this off my

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chest.

One by one, her classmates sat back down in their seats. Lunch would have to wait.