A story from my first year as a child life specialist...
I had only met the three-year-old patient, "Drew", one other time before his outpatient appointment. My co-worker, Ginger, was the one who had the most experience supporting him. From what I had learned from her, he was going to be a challenge. He would protest his “jobs” (like getting his blood pressure taken) with loud shouting and swearing, his parents were understandably overwhelmed but passive in their parenting and support, and Drew would resist and hide from any staff member entering the room.
It was now my turn to take the lead in supporting Drew throughout the rest of his outpatient treatment, as this was the primary area I covered and Ginger remained in her primary areas.
Drew and his parents were just as I expected when I met them in the waiting room—he was screaming and running away and his parents were teary-eyed and avoiding eye contact. By the time we got back to the room for the port access, I guided the dad to sit on the bed with Drew. I saw the dad becoming more flushed and clenching his jaw. Drew started to scream louder as I guided the dad to provide a comfort hold for his son.
Suddenly, the dad looked straight at me. His eyes were burning with rage.
“Excuse me, listen. We really don’t want you or need you in here. Drew only wants Ginger and would do a lot better with her. Please leave. Now.”
I turned red (although I didn’t have a mirror. But trust me, I turned red). I tried to keep my composure and act un-phased by his scathing command which cut me deep.
“Sir, you are the expert on your child. If you think fewer people in the room would be helpful to your son, I absolutely respect your decision and will follow up with you on how I can support him afterward.”
I burst into tears as soon as I closed the door.
The nurses later told me that the dad shared that he thought I was “awkward" and "didn’t know how to work with his son like Ginger did.”
That felt good.
When I found a free moment, I went down to the office and cried some more to Ginger. She listened gracefully and with such compassion.
Comparison will always be a part of our lives. It is important to not ignore it or pretend it doesn’t exist.
Drew’s dad compared me to Ginger. According to him, I was awkward and she was not. Ginger knew how to work with Drew and apparently, I was at a loss.
These words circled in my brain for days upon days. Was I awkward? Was I unable to connect with certain kids? Was I not as good as a child life specialist as my coworker?
As soon as comparison begins with other child life specialists or other professionals, it can be a very dangerous mind game to navigate.
Here are a few of thoughts I have on comparison and its place in child life.
- We will always have things to learn from others. We are each unique and special individuals with our own unique and special sets of strengths and weaknesses. We are not perfect. So striving for perfection is not the goal.
- Our worth is not defined by being “the best” child life specialist or medical professional. Who even determines what is “the best”? Instead, how can we strive for working hard and having integrity in everything we do? At the end of the day, that is what matters.
- In some ways, comparison can be a healthy thing. When we are able to look at someone else who has different skills and strengths than us and be grateful for the ways those skills and strengths compliment our own practice, it can be something that promotes growth and well-roundedness.
- When we do see the ways other people have traits that we value, let us first encourage them in those strengths. Then, let us contemplate if we can learn and grow in those strengths. Doing so will encourage personal growth rather than envy.
- The voice that says things like, “you aren’t good enough” or “no one likes you” isn’t a voice of truth and will only breed insecurity and negativity. Instead, the voice of truth can sound more like, “I love the way she connects with kids with humor, I want to try more of that” or “I am so proud of her for receiving that recognition”.
Comparison will always be a part of our lives. It is important to not ignore it or pretend it doesn’t exist. Comparison can be a good thing to recognize! Seek to encourage and seek to be grateful. Seek self-awareness of your strengths and the opportunities you have to grow.
To conclude the story with Drew- we became best buddies. After the outburst with his dad occurred, I gave the family a few weeks of distance where I made myself physically present and available when they walked into the clinic but would respect their wishes and not enter the exam room. Finally, I met with his mom and dad, provided them with a brochure about child life, and explained how I (Allie, not someone trying to pretend to be Ginger) could help their son. During this conversation, Drew then interrupted.
“Miss Allie? Do you want to play blocks with me?”
From that point forward, I tried to press into being just me. I have a lot to learn. I am far from perfect. I have a lot of ways to grow. And I am very thankful to serve on a team with people like Ginger who I can celebrate their victories and be challenged and sharpened.