Poetry: My Teachers Told Me I Was a Superhero

by Alexandra Zannis, BSW, RSW

My teachers told me I was a superhero

They told me I wore a cape

They told me we had certain powers to help our clients escape

They told us to have courage, this profession isn’t for the faint of heart

They told us to prepare ourselves for a life that could be dark.

They told us we were lucky, social workers are strong

They told us that we have a duty - to make people feel like they belong

They told us to treat this job like we were mighty knights

That this superhuman cape is worn morning, noon, and night.

But this seems just so wrong you see because superpowers don’t exist

I don’t want recognition for something I’d consider a gift

And what happens to the practitioner’s mind when we can’t do it all?

When we get home and collapse to the floor because we couldn’t break a client’s fall

When the superpowers don’t work every time, but our cape should never fail?

When our only job was to bring the child home safely, but sadly, to no avail

What happens to the client, when we bite off more than we can chew?

When we can’t solve every problem, when we aren’t able to be their glue

What happens to our clients, when we believe we have all the answers?

When we feel like our only job is to appear like a perfectly, orchestrated dancer

What happens to our communities when we are supposed to solve it all?

What happens to ourselves, what happens when we stand too tall

No, I am not a superhero

I do not have a cape

I do not have mythical powers

That can make my clients elate

I don’t have a special formula

To make everything right

I cannot move all mountains

I cannot shine your light

My job is not to fix you

My job is not to judge

My job is in the stillness

Of when you may just need a nudge

My job is not some grandiose gest

I am not a saint

Please don’t think that I can fix the world, it would be a very long wait

If anyone should be praised, it’s YOU, you are the best example

For giving us a looking glass into something others may trample

If anyone is a superhero, it is the people who mourn

It is the clients who come to us in grief, joy, hope, and scorn

It is the people who give complete strangers the ability to see

That we are all connected, that you are just like me

That sometimes life is harder, and at times unfair, unjust

That you have traveled lengths and lengths just to foster trust

That you have brought us a gift, that is found only within your presence

That you will likely share with us your humanity and your essence

Yes, we will be social workers, and yes we go through training

Yes, we have an arsenal of tools, and yes at times we’ll find them constraining

But what I cannot get behind, what I never could support

Is this super human notion, this fictitious type of sport

Do not tell me I am a superhero

Just tell me I am blessed

That every day I get to do a job that makes it worth getting dressed

Tell me that I am lucky, that I should hold it dear

That this present I’ve been given is people’s lives and happiness and fear

That when I come home at the end of the day, I don’t forget your voice

Whether it was shared to me with anger, thrill, love, tears, or rejoice

Don’t teach students we are invincible

Because that is just a guise

Teach us to be human, teach us to be kind.

Alexandra Zannis, BSW, RSW, is Social Policy and Communications Coordinator at the Canadian Association of Social Workers on traditional, unceded, and unsurrendered Algonquin territory.