“I met Sara for the first time at the house of our mutual friend, Grace- we were gathered to help with a home improvement project and we had hours to talk as we taped, primed and painted Grace’s kitchen walls. We talked about our jobs, I shared that my first social work job was a bitter disappointment. The homeless shelter was so poorly run, with residents living with dirty clothes, lice, poor nutrition, and the most creatively lazy interpretation of “harm reduction” I had ever heard of. I had recently quit and reported what I witnessed to every oversight board and ethics committee possible. I was crushed, I wondered if social work even was for me. I was so moved when, months after initially meeting Sara, she sent me a painting of a healthcare worker with a mask made out of folded hands clasped over the mouth and expressed that
