The first months of my placement at Children’s Health Fund and the South Bronx Health Center were happily hectic. I launched into a busy schedule of group care at the clinic while familiarizing myself with the organization’s national initiatives. There was even a little glamour thrown in when my co-fellow and I got to participate in CHF’s 25th-anniversary concert at Radio City Music Hall. In my first blog post I gushed about that milestone event along with the patients I worked with and the impressive way organizational values echoed throughout every level of service.
These qualities of my work have not changed. My daily routine is still dynamic and patient-focused. I remain in awe of my supervisors’ and colleagues’ commitment to the families we serve and to the bigger picture of advocacy on behalf of children nationwide. Instead, what shifted between November and January of my fellowship year was my connection to my own responsibilities. I gradually felt less and less excited to spend a morning playing with the fifteen-month-olds in baby group or discussing the benefits of breastfeeding with women entering their eighth month of pregnancy. I began to ask myself questions such as:
Since I’m not the provider leading these sessions, what do I really contribute to help the patients?
Would someone else be better able to innovate in my role?
…or the most concerning:
Can I feel challenged and happy this year in a mostly administrative position?
These questions were inevitably followed by overwhelming guilt – guilt for placing my own needs above those of the patients, guilt for letting these thoughts distract me from pursuing new ideas, and guilt for not spending every moment appreciating and maximizing the opportunity given to me by GHC and CHF.
Taking a step back from my structured work schedule over the holidays and comparing notes with other US-based fellows providing direct service grounded me quickly. When I realized that many fellows experience similar waves of disengagement and self-analysis, I was able to give myself a break from the guilt and instead focus on teasing apart which aspects of my work were causing such roadblocks. I knew I liked the meat of my assignment because it revolved around interaction with people, which I thrive on, and because I believed wholeheartedly in our interventions. However, I came to appreciate that I could not feel fulfilled unless this personal element was combined with a creative challenge. As a history major and self-described “nerd,” I become most animated when discussing something I’ve read or the historical precedent for a certain phenomenon. Both at the office and in my personal life I missed writing, research, and tackling challenges by carefully studying the big picture.
Over the past month I have been navigating how to incorporate these realizations into my work, whether through contacting and collaborating with new community partners or taking on a bigger role in the research behind potential national programs. I’ve found that the simple act of giving myself a break and questioning what was missing empowered me. I feel reenergized about my work because I know better how to apply my skillset in order to serve patients and attain that desirable yet sometimes-elusive result: innovation.