by Erika Fortin, MSW, MA, LGSW
I cried. I was five years old and I begged my brother to stop covering up the ant hill on the sidewalk. I wholeheartedly advocated for the injustice to end. I watched as the tiny creatures scattered about, disoriented, homeless, unable to return to their ant family. I began a frantic search for the original ant hole in an unrequited effort to help these stranded insect souls. I was worried that they would be without a home and fall victim to the heat or a predator.
This childhood experience taught me one of my greatest life lessons, a cornerstone of my social work practice decades later. For the following morning, I came upon the same area of concrete and discovered new ant hills had been built in the same place as the old ones. I had not failed these ants. They were able to rebuild on their own. They only needed the time and space to get to work. Although I was unable to stop the injustice, it was the ants’ own self-determination that allowed for them to find their own solution.
Studying abroad in Central America in the 1990s, I witnessed the exploitive operations of U.S.-owned banana plantations. The land was polluted by pesticides, the economy monopolized by U.S. interests, and the children born to the workers on the banana plantations had high rates of birth defects that were due to the chemicals that these plantations leeched into the water supply. These workers asked me to return to the United States and urge people to continue buying their bananas. I asked why anyone would want to support a company that was causing so much injustice, so much hurt. The answer was simple. Despite the working conditions, they needed these jobs, and their economy needed these plantations.“Advocate for healthier and safer conditions,” they answered, “and please, tell everyone to buy our bananas.” I learned that the self-determination of a person, of a collective, must dictate the nature of our support as social workers.
As a social worker in Minneapolis, I have witnessed our humanity carry on during this extraordinary time of global pandemic and racial injustice. It is not only our calling but our duty to support those who are most vulnerable and provide advocacy and support toward meeting their basic needs. To be successful in truly hearing others, we have to first listen to our own needs. In this way, we can be present with those we serve, and be clear minded and able to fully listen to their perspectives and desires for change.
We are not the experts; rather, we are simply a support, helping to amplify and maximize the change, by employing interventions as needed. In my 15 years as a social worker, I have learned that having your voice heard is the most powerful act toward real change. It is through having your voice heard that one experiences self-determination.
The ants taught me a valuable lesson many decades ago. It was not my intelligence, size, or power that could force a solution. They knew what they needed to do, and they just needed the space to do it. The Central American workers I met at the banana plantation taught me that, as social workers, we must let the voices of the oppressed lead the charge for change.
We are honored to bear witness to countless lives in need and in struggle. The most essential thing for social workers to know is this: It is our duty as social workers to humbly, skillfully, and wholly listen, to advocate, respect, and support individuals in need down paths of their own self-determination.
Erika Fortin is a licensed social worker in Minneapolis, Minnesota. With 15 years’ experience, she has expertise in trauma, restorative justice, child welfare, and disabilities. Erika currently serves on the NASW-MN Policy Committee, works for a local government agency, and has a small clinical practice.