Feeling safe enough to explore as a newly qualified social worker

ABSTRACT

This essay shares the barriers and opportunities encountered whilst trying to adopt a more exploratory and curious position with parents, as a Newly Qualified Social Worker in an Inner London Child Protection service. This was influenced by systemic theory and an aspiration to relationship-based practice, with an assumption that this would open up conversations with parents. My findings point to a discomfort and uncertainty within the position of the Newly Qualified Social Worker, but that use of techniques drawn from narrative therapy and Motivational Interviewing enabled more exploratory practice. The parent’s perception of the wider Child Protection system appeared to be as influential as their relationship with the individual social worker, and the implications for this on social worker practice are discussed.

KEYWORDS:

• Child protection
• empathy
• second-order change
• relationship-based
• safe uncertainty
• newly qualified social worker

Relationship-based practice as a newly qualified social worker

The centrality of the relationships social workers build with children and families has long been a principle of attempts to reform the Child Protection system in England, particularly since Munro (2011) identified that this was waning in a system that, as a result of increased prescription surrounding practice, seemed to be over-burdened by bureaucracy.

As a Newly Qualified Social Worker (NQSW), I have instinctively felt that I want to practise in a ‘relationship-based’ way, but that the relevant definition is unclear, acknowledging it may look and feel differently depending on the context, setting, and practitioner. I borrowed my working definition from Hingley-Jones and Ruch (2016): to get ‘beneath the surface’ of what is going on in the lives of families I work with. Furthermore, drawing from the work of Clare and Donald Winnicott (Kanter, 2000), I am influenced by the conceptualisation of the holding relationship: a high quality relationship in which families ‘know that the worker’s mind is available to them and is open to their emotional experience’ (Ferguson et al., 2022). During my student placement, I spent time within a non-statutory service that supports women who have had children removed from their care following Child Protection intervention. Observing practice which empowers women and supports them to make changes in their lives, in very difficult circumstances, compelled me to want to do the same in my Child Protection work. Underpinning this was a desire for families have a better experience than many of these women reported they had had.

However, an early dilemma emerged in my newly qualified year, that parents were telling me (or in some cases, telling my manager) that they did not feel understood by me. This took place with two families – a high proportion of my lower-than-average caseload. I found it difficult to balance the statutory role with a stance of curiosity towards parents and caregivers, and I often felt torn in two directions. Research reveals that social workers sometimes fear that, by focusing on parental problems, they detract attention from the child, implying a trade-off between working collaboratively with parents and having time for the child (Sudland, 2020; Wilkins & Whittaker, 2017). There is also a fear of triangulation, that is, being drawn into the conflict, a perceived time-consuming task which is more difficult in time-pressured environments (Sudland, 2020).

To address this, I undertook an action research project to consider how I could ‘open up’ conversations with parents, to bring forth stories that were not being heard. My practice dilemma related to a feeling of ‘stuck-ness’, often with clients presenting stories that were negative and despairing about relationships with their children. In reviewing the development of family therapy, Karl Tomm highlights the opportunities in therapy from moving away from problem-centred focus and towards a focus on patterns of interaction (Collins & Tomm, 2009). He highlights the impact of narrative therapy, particularly White and Epston (1990), and the opportunities to enable families to identify different stories about themselves, rather than methods which focused on the functioning of the problem itself.

First- and second-order change in social work

Hingley-Jones and Ruch (2016) describe the historical context of social-political environments which have contributed to a configuration of public services in which resources feel scarce and adults face a ‘punishing attitude’ when seeking help. It is somewhat in defiance of this that I want to practice in a way that forges a more positive relationship with help provided by Children’s Services.

This research is situated within a theory of change that is informed by systemic theory (Dallos & Vetere, 2003; Hedges, 2005). Watzlawick et al. (1974) provide a framework for thinking about change that is highly relevant to social work practice and safeguarding. That is, drawing a distinction between change which alters the functioning of a system (second-order change), and a change that does not (first-order change). In work with families, this can be thought about as the distinction between a temporary change in family functioning, compared with a fundamental re-configuration of how a family operates.

To further illustrate, Van de Vijver and Harvey (2019) describe how changes of the first-order are often required in order to build short-term safety. For example, enforcing a curfew with a young person may be necessary to reduce their exposure to danger. However, this must be accompanied by longer-term, therapeutic work to help the young person make sense of the underlying beliefs and thoughts that are, for example, rendering them vulnerable to relationships that harm them.

Mason (1993) points to a move away from certainty towards uncertainty in systemic practice, related to the transition from first- to second-order positioning described above. He highlights that this shift calls on a practitioner to explore with a client, rather than seek to understand or diagnose too quickly. Clients often come to us in a state of unsafe certainty (a set idea of what needs to be done to fix a problem) or unsafe uncertainty (not knowing what to do, a sense of insecurity). Furthermore, embracing uncertainty is required to open up space for second-order change, allowing for the exploration of underlying beliefs and values (Van de Vijver & Harvey, 2019).

Operating across different domains in social work

Lang et al. (1990) describe the necessity for helping professionals to move across domains of action. There will be necessary ‘yardsticks’, when working within the domain of production, that are used to determine conventions or rules, which professionals often may have to enforce without the client’s explicit consent. This sits alongside a more therapeutic role, in the domain of explanations, in which a posture of neutrality (or later, curiosity) is more appropriate. Knowing how, and when, to move across these domains (the choices made within the domain of aesthetics) may present a challenge to NQSWs and their emerging professional identity. I explore this further below.

Research methodology

Qualitative data was collected throughout the first nine months of my newly qualified year, drawing from reflexive journals, reflexive peer discussions with other NQSWs, supervision, and transcriptions of interactions with the research participant. The research participant was a parent who provided their informed consent to take part in this project. To protect their privacy, very limited background information is provided about them in this essay.

I undertook two cycles of action research, evaluating and adapting after each cycle (McNiff, 2017). This included semi-structured interviews with the research participant, with questions based on the Integrative Psychotherapy Alliance Scale, which measures the therapeutic alliance between a practitioner and the client (Pinsof et al., 2008). I benefitted from the critical support of a colleague, an experienced social worker working in the same Children’s Services department. This ‘critical friend’ reviewed data alongside me and challenged my interpretation and underlying assumptions.

Thematic analysis was used to identify recurring themes emerging from the data. These are presented below, structured around the four main questions which seemed to be most distinct from the voices within the data (in particular, my inner voice as a reflexive researcher).

Approval for this research was provided by the Frontline Ethics Committee and by my own Local Authority. Written informed consent was obtained from the research participant prior to the research commencing.

Findings and discussion

What is ‘safe enough’ safe uncertainty?

Mason (1993) wrote that, in order to achieve safe uncertainty, the practitioner must ‘remain curious and responsive while also being sure there is safety in the relationship and work being undertaken’. I would argue that it is more difficult for NQSWs to feel assured that there is safety in the work being undertaken as they, by definition, have less experience of assessing risk. In addition, the threshold of ‘safe enough’ is never defined by the social worker alone. It seemed that I was not always clear what the threshold for such safety was in my Local Authority context. Devaney et al. (2017) identify a ‘beginner dip’ as NQSWs integrate the technical knowledge acquired through study, to the practical knowledge gained from practice experience. They acknowledge this involves an adjustment to operating within the paradigm of organisational policies and expectations. My analysis suggests that these policies and expectations were not always clear to me. I note that much of my reflective supervision was spent trying to understand who made decisions within the Local Authority, and on what basis. Technical knowledge, of, for example, the Children Act (1989), provides the framework for decision-making, but regional variations in outcomes indicate that interpretations differ (MacAlister, 2022; Mason & Broadhurst, 2020).

Van de Vijver and Harvey (2019) argue that exploratory work within the domain of explanation is necessary, in order to create long-lasting, second-order change for clients, but acknowledge that changes of the first order are required in order to build short-term safety (for example, the use of written agreements with parents). However, agencies which adopt a ‘better to be safe than sorry’ approach create an environment where social workers are discouraged from taking relational risks (Leigh, 2016). In my research, I found that I felt less incentivised to pursue exploratory practice with clients, given the prevalence of reward mechanisms when I completed actions related to processes and organisational plans surrounding safety. As a NQSW, I am perhaps more susceptible to these mechanisms than more experienced social workers would be, given I am subject to ongoing assessment. I was often commended for the quality of written work, such as reports. As a result, it felt more rewarding for me to lean into these tasks, often completed separately from families, rather than pursuing the relational work with families, which might go unnoticed.

I noticed a tendency within my practice to refer to the Local Authority when sharing concerns with clients. This detachment from the system was not useful to the research participant: they were clear that I was an integral part of the system. It has been proposed that ongoing attention to the professional identity of an early-career social worker is required (Moorhead, 2019). I found reflexive discussion with peers, my critical friend, and my supervisor enabled me to recognise this tension existed, and to address it within the intervention (explored below).

Is it safe to explore within the child protection system?

Lang et al. (1990) claim that work in the domain of explanations ‘can only be carried out with the informed consent of the clients’. As described above, as a social worker, I am often operating within the domain of production, and so shifting to a more exploratory stance requires an explicit reconfiguration of the conversation. Whilst reviewing the literature, I drew a connection between this and attachment theory (Bowlby, 1969), explored by Byng-Hall (2008) and summarised as follows: ‘the family needs to develop a sufficiently secure attachment to the therapist in order to feel safe enough to explore new ways of relating’. Outlining the implications for therapy, he urges practitioners to create a secure therapeutic base by making time for longer introductory conversations, to explore a client’s perspective, but also encouraging the client to involve their whole family.

My findings suggest that there may be some distance to travel, for a parent to have such a secure attachment to their child’s social worker. Over the course of this research project, I became increasingly aware of the narratives surrounding children’s social care and how this influences conversations with parents, even these stories are not explicitly discussed. These untold, untellable, or unknown stories (Pearce, 2005) may contribute significantly to both the client and practitioner’s beliefs around safety.

The research participant had significant experience of Children’s Services intervention and the Family Court. They told me that information about them had been misconstrued to further the objectives of social work management (which, in their view, was to remove children from good parents). Although I do not agree that this is the intention of safeguarding, narratives about the limitations of the Children’s Social Care system are dominant in contemporary social work discourse, thanks to, amongst others, work by Curtis (2022) and the recent independent review of children’s social care (MacAlister, 2022). During my discussion with my critical friend, we identified that, for me, there was an untellable story about my doubts about the effectiveness and equity within the Child Protection system; Pearce (2005) considers how such hidden stories can influence interactions despite not being explicitly discussed. In this context, I found that being reminded of these stories decreased my confidence in the virtue of my role.

Wilkins and Whittaker (2017) found that a barrier to social workers practising with empathy is the perceived risk of being disingenuous if, for example, the information shared (as a result of, for example, open questions) is later used ‘against’ the parent in an assessment. Lynch et al. (2019) emphasise that a lack of empathy should not be viewed as a skill-deficit, but rather a reflection of inadequate support in their agency setting.

Furthermore, feedback shared by the research participant was that the relationship with me did not matter and that it was their alliance (or lack thereof) with the wider system which influenced their feeling of safety. Having shared that they felt I showed them a high degree of empathy and respect, they then expanded:

Researcher: What difference does it make, to our work together, that you feel respected by me?

Participant: It makes no difference … Ultimately, decisions are made by robots who don’t meet families … Don’t take it personally, but it doesn’t matter whether you respect me or not if your manager overrules you.

My analysis of this and other data demonstrate that the participant did display openness with me, which suggests that, to an extent, our interpersonal relationship did enable exploratory conversations. For example, the fact that the participant felt able to vocalise their mistrust of Children’s Services may indicate a basic trust in me and my appreciation of their point of view.

However, the participant was clear that neither Children’s Services nor me, as their child’s social worker, were aligned with them in terms of goals. This a key component of the therapeutic alliance measure (Pinsof et al., 2008). Despite an effort to explore these collaboratively (outlined below), the research participant’s feedback at the end of the project indicated they had not changed their view, explaining: ‘Children’s Services goal is to remove children, I don’t agree with that’. It is possible that the language of goals carried different meaning for them, and it is a limitation of this research that I was not able to spend more time unpicking this with the participant.

How can we both feel safe to explore?

This question emerged out of the first cycle of evaluation. I found that discussing this question with my critical friend and peers enabled me to explore the influential narratives related to power and powerlessness – already presented – integrating the conceptual frameworks of Social GGRRAAACCEEESSS¹ (Burnham, 2012) and LUUUUTT² (Pearce, 2005). This surfaced biases within my own practice, and increased comfort with exploratory practice with clients from similar class and education backgrounds to my own.

These conversations created space for ‘taking it back’ practices proposed by White (1997), in particular, appreciating the client’s courage, noticing events (even if small) that contradict the enduring negative narrative, and maintaining hope and joy despite problem-saturated stories. Discussing with colleagues my experience of difficult, sometimes demoralising, interactions with clients provided me with the reflective space needed to reconsider in a different light. This finding builds on the existing evidence base: much has been written about reflective supervision as an enabler of relationship-based, exploratory practice (Ferguson, 2016; Ferguson & Norton, 2011; Hingley-Jones & Ruch, 2016; Wilson et al., 2008).

White and Epston (1990) propose writing letters to clients as an alternative to case notes, including clients in the discourse that is often authored by professionals, and as an extension of narrative techniques employed during sessions with clients. An excerpt from the letter I wrote the participant is below in Figure 1.

Figure 1. Excerpt from letter sent to client after intervention.

It was not clear from their feedback that the participant found this letter useful. However, my analysis suggests that the act of writing the letter helped me make sense of the work so far, by articulating some of the reframed meanings that colleagues helped me discover. This seemed to increase my motivation to pursue another exploratory conversation with the participant.

Furthermore, this reflective space enabled me to disentangle myself from the binary thinking that can sometimes emerge in social work (Bonsu, 2020), for example, the phenomenon of psychological splitting in which clients and their actions are labelled as good or bad (Ferguson et al., 2021). I was reminded of the literature surrounding Motivational Interviewing (MI), which is a practice method that reframes resistance or hostility as a natural part of the process of change (Miller & Rollnick, 2013). MI techniques, such as the use of scaling, can enable resistance or hostility to be better explored, giving the client the opportunity to, in their own words, explain the nuances around their position and what would help them change that.

As described previously, the participant believed that their goals and those of Children’s Services were in conflict. I attempted to address this perceived gap in the second research cycle by having a more explicit conversation about goals. To this end, I found the agenda mapping tool proposed by Miller and Rollnick (2013) to be very helpful. This is a visual aid, in our case, a piece of paper, where the participant and I wrote down our ideas for topics we should discuss.

This tool served two relevant purposes. Firstly, it seemed to help the participant to articulate what was important to them. Having their priorities written down in front of us enabled an exploratory conversation about what the choice of topics said about their values, their state of mind, and their goals for the future. I strengthened this by using open questions, reflections, affirmations, and summaries, a key technique of MI (Forrester et al., 2021; Miller & Rollnick, 2013). Secondly, adding my own ideas to the map created an opportunity for me to discuss my role and statutory duty to prioritise their child’s welfare. My analysis was this boundaried the discussion, helping it feel safer for me to explore than it had previously.

Although social work practice rightly borrows from therapeutic literature, a key difference is that the child protection intervention is borne out of safeguarding concerns, which social workers have a statutory duty to address (Forrester et al., 2012). Motivational Interviewing can provide a bridge between the sometimes-contrasting starting positions of the social worker and a parent. The goal of MI is to draw out intrinsic motivation for change from clients themselves, through conversational techniques that highlights and amplifies this motivation. Furthermore, there is evidence that MI can also build the alliance between a practitioner and a client, particularly during the initial engagement phase (Forrester et al., 2021). Elsewhere in the literature, I came across examples of how MI had been used within longer-term therapeutic interventions – for example, an intervention to address problematic gambling in which the first step was to establish a safety plan using MI, to identify necessary actions (Mladenović et al., 2015).

Conclusion

My research into my own experience of improving the way I explore parents’ stories has highlighted the influence of the ‘inner voice’. As a NQSW, feeling unsure about my authority, my ability to assess risk, and my position within my organisation’s structures were important narratives impacting my interactions with parents. Feedback from the research participant helped me to navigate what was required to help them feel safer. Although a lot has been written about relationship-based direct practice with families, further research could consider what this looks like at a system or agency level. This may help align relationship-based practice across all levels of Child Protection systems.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Correction Statement

This article has been corrected with minor changes. These changes do not impact the academic content of the article.

Additional information

Notes on contributors

Harriet Ballantine-Thomas

Harriet Ballantine-Thomas qualified as a social worker in 2022 and has worked in an Inner London Child Protection service since 2021. She trained as a social worker after a decade working in the private then not-for-profit sector.

Notes

1. This is an acronym highlighting different aspects of identity which are associated with power and privilege, standing for gender, geography, race, religion, age, ability, appearance, culture, class, education, employment, ethnicity, spirituality, sexuality, and sexual orientation.

2. This is a model for examining the stories that influence the meanings of an interaction, in particular, interpersonal communication. LUUUTT is an acronym that stands for (stories) Lived, (stories) Untold, (stories) Unknown, (stories) Unheard, (stories) Told, (story) Telling.