Hello Steemit Community!! I am thrilled to be joining this group and look forward to reading others opinions and writings.
I would like to take a minute to share a little of my history so you can understand who I am and my adventures in this life. My name is Teresa and I am a semi-retired social worker in the great state of Texas! I am the proud mother of twin girls and extremely proud grandmother of two boys and a girl.
I started off my professional career in 1989 with the Texas Department of Human Services (CPS) At that time I was a young mother and wife. My daughters were just starting first grade when I went to work for the department. I was married to a man that drove a truck for a living and was often gone for days and weeks at a time. That often caused problems in the marriage as back then we had no cell phones. So I was often set waiting and praying for him to call home.
He enjoyed going to the local club/bar and having a drink at the end of the day. However, the one drink became two and then three. Seven years into the marriage and his alcoholism had taken full control of him. He made several attempts at quitting but the alcohol kept calling him back.
We separated and talked about the possibly of divorce, something he didn’t want. I wanted stability for my daughters and he was unable to provide it.
It was November of 1990 when his life seemed to spiral out of control. He had lost his job and was staying with friends. He borrowed his friend’s new pick up to go to the liquor store. He had been drinking most of the day and on his way home, he crashed the truck.
He had always taken pride in the fact that he was a good driver and never had a wreck that was his fault. In the following few days, he had several serious arguments with close friends and family. The continuous drinking had brought about a drastic change.
I was at work the day that the Sheriff’s office called from a neighboring county. They asked if I knew, “Jim.” My body had an immediate reaction. I just knew that he had been in another wreck or had been arrested. The officer continued, “I am sorry mam but we found his body . . . “
I went into shock after that and have very little memory of many of the events that followed. I later learned that he had parked his truck on a desert road next to the lake. He ran a hose from the exhaust pipe into the cab of his truck. He cranked the truck and lay down in the seat.
The next morning, an early morning jogger caught a glimpse of the truck that was hidden behind the brush. He approached the vehicle to find Jim deceased in the cab of the truck. He had written a letter apologizing for taking his own life.
Widowed at the age of 29 and left with two young girls to raise, challenges were laid ahead.
I was grateful for the fact that I did have a good job that I really loved. I had been working for the department for a couple of years and enjoyed investigating allegations of child abuse.
This was not a job that I just stumbled into. I had gone to college specifically to attain a degree in Social Work so that I could work with abuse and neglected children.
I had been deeply touched by our neighbors that lived next door when I was very young. At the age of 9, I enjoyed playing outside with the neighbor kids. Neil was probably around 12 and his sister Tammy was about 6. Their parents rented the house and only lived there for about two years. But over the course of those two years, it left a lasting impact on my life.
Neil was the result of a marriage that didn’t work. His mother married Roy and they had Tammy. Roy didn’t like Neil and would often beat him. Sometimes with his fist and other times using objects like a belt and two by four board.
On one particular occasion, I went to their home to find Neil sitting on the front porch crying. As I got closer to him, it was obvious that he had received another beating.
I asked him, “What happened?”
He explained that Roy had beaten him with a board. He cried as he sat and tried to pick out the splinters left in his arms and legs.
While we talked, his mother popped out the door with a bottle. She told him, “Pour this on it.” She then quickly disappeared.
My heart broke for him! He had a stepfather that hated him and a mother that didn’t seem to care. No one would help him even though many adults knew what was happening. But back in the early 70’s it was somewhat accepted.
The family moved on and about a year after the move, my mom received a call from a friend who stated that Neil had been found dead in his bed. They concluded that he had died from a seizure disorder but I knew what had really happened. His stepdad had killed him. I knew he had.
I couldn’t do anything about the abuse then but I resolved that when I grew up, I would fight for those kids who couldn’t fight for themselves.
In 1989, I graduated with my Bachelors of Social Work degree from Texas A&M.
Over the course of my twenty years as a social worker, I have fought my fair share of injustices in this state. I will be writing about those wrong doings in upcoming articles.
Besides working as a child abuse investigator, I have also spent time working at our state psychiatric hospital and our state psychiatric prison.
I have a tendency to get on a soapbox when I feel that things are wrong. And I will try my best to fix the problem when others feel it is a useless battle. But if I am able to help one child or one person, then my job is done.
With that being said . . . let me state that I am very upset with our CPS system and how it isn’t working and hasn’t been working for the last 15 years! Why do our officials not fix these problems?
Excuse me for a minute while I dig my soapbox out of the closet. I will return soon to discuss issues with CPS in Texas.