by an anonymous social workerThere is an expectation that in certain parts of the UK to be able to practise as a social worker it is essential that you can legally drive and own a road worthy car.
There is myth and rumour that circulate around social work teams of those who in desperation have been driven to pretend they could drive or had the essential car.
And there are all sorts of moral questions about whether the essential use of a car is discriminatory to those who can't, never will or won't.
There used to be stereotypes about social workers and car usage. When I qualified in the 1980s, there were many Citroen 2CVs (pictured), Morris Minors and battered land rovers (complete with goats in the back).
The generation of hippie social workers that went before me now drive Volvo estates and new VW Beatles. The ones behind appear to prefer Golfs, Honda Civics and unidentifiable soft tops. Whether this reflects their social work values and practice could be a whole study on the changing profile of social workers.
Transporting service users
I sometimes wonder how many other professions are expected as an essential part of their job to carry their service users around with them in their own cars. Not the solicitors who roll up to court do their bit and go back to their air-conditioned office alone. It is not the police but the social worker who is left to sometimes transport home the parent they have just given evidence against in court.
Well-motivated colleagues state that the car is wonderful place to listen to service users talk. They will chat away about all their woes, opening their hearts and allowing the conversation to flow because the social worker is driving therefore less intensively trying to draw information out of the service user. I wholeheartedly agree driving service users around does redress the power balance between professional and client.
Entering Mr Benn's shop
On entering my car I am aware that as if entering Mr Benn's shop we are transported to a different place. I am no longer the social worker who is assessing their parenting skills, moving them to independent accommodation or transporting them to see their children.
I am the driver who owns the vehicle that they are being transported in. The car has become an x-ray machine to see through any professional persona. The assessment process is reversed. I am often informed prior to the client entering the vehicle that my car is crap and a skip on wheels.
On entering the vehicle I pre-empt comment on the interior by apologising for the mess. I then have to enduring the analysis of my musical taste and why all my CDs are "lame" and why don't I possess any drum and bass.
Passenger seat drivers
Then there's passenger seat unqualified driving instructors. I have been told how to drive by so many boys who are not old enough to sit their test yet and have already been banned for driving related offences, men who are disqualified for numerous motoring offences and others who have never sat behind the wheel of any thing but Grand Theft Auto on their X-Box.
This may sound sexist but it is only male passengers that have ever chosen to tell me how to drive as I transport them in my car because they have none of their own. The power balance is therefore well and truly as wonky as my attempts to parallel park when there is three minutes left to get into court.
I wonder on a daily basis is the use of my car for my job is essential or a necessary evil.
(Pic: Philip Silverman/Rex Features)
And there are all sorts of moral questions about whether the essential use of a car is discriminatory to those who can't, never will or won't.
There used to be stereotypes about social workers and car usage. When I qualified in the 1980s, there were many Citroen 2CVs (pictured), Morris Minors and battered land rovers (complete with goats in the back).
The generation of hippie social workers that went before me now drive Volvo estates and new VW Beatles. The ones behind appear to prefer Golfs, Honda Civics and unidentifiable soft tops. Whether this reflects their social work values and practice could be a whole study on the changing profile of social workers.
Transporting service users
I sometimes wonder how many other professions are expected as an essential part of their job to carry their service users around with them in their own cars. Not the solicitors who roll up to court do their bit and go back to their air-conditioned office alone. It is not the police but the social worker who is left to sometimes transport home the parent they have just given evidence against in court.
Well-motivated colleagues state that the car is wonderful place to listen to service users talk. They will chat away about all their woes, opening their hearts and allowing the conversation to flow because the social worker is driving therefore less intensively trying to draw information out of the service user. I wholeheartedly agree driving service users around does redress the power balance between professional and client.
Entering Mr Benn's shop
On entering my car I am aware that as if entering Mr Benn's shop we are transported to a different place. I am no longer the social worker who is assessing their parenting skills, moving them to independent accommodation or transporting them to see their children.
I am the driver who owns the vehicle that they are being transported in. The car has become an x-ray machine to see through any professional persona. The assessment process is reversed. I am often informed prior to the client entering the vehicle that my car is crap and a skip on wheels.
On entering the vehicle I pre-empt comment on the interior by apologising for the mess. I then have to enduring the analysis of my musical taste and why all my CDs are "lame" and why don't I possess any drum and bass.
Passenger seat drivers
Then there's passenger seat unqualified driving instructors. I have been told how to drive by so many boys who are not old enough to sit their test yet and have already been banned for driving related offences, men who are disqualified for numerous motoring offences and others who have never sat behind the wheel of any thing but Grand Theft Auto on their X-Box.
This may sound sexist but it is only male passengers that have ever chosen to tell me how to drive as I transport them in my car because they have none of their own. The power balance is therefore well and truly as wonky as my attempts to parallel park when there is three minutes left to get into court.
I wonder on a daily basis is the use of my car for my job is essential or a necessary evil.
(Pic: Philip Silverman/Rex Features)
Whilst, to an extent I hear what you are saying, I feel that such journeys can actually help a social workers with a service user. It is one of the rare occasions when they relax and you learn more about them as it is not an artificial situation. I have found that car journeys have enabled me to build a better relationship with service user's, which in turn means we are more likely to achieve positive outcomes.