There is an interesting thing happening as I work for the same clients week after week. Well, it is interesting to me. Here is what it is that’s developing: a possessiveness I associate with love.
As I get more familiar with a client’s house, and start to know what needs to be done and where things are and where things go, and get to that point where I can arrive at work and immediately start fixing the things that are not right—at the same time as all that is happening, the house is becoming, in a certain sense, MINE. As I take care of a client, and grow familiar with the amount of lotion it takes to cover her back, and which foot she holds up first for a sock or slipper or pant leg, and which pillows she likes to have behind her, and how she likes her coffee—at the same time as all that is happening, the client is becoming, in a certain sense, MINE.
It reminds me of when I worked in the infant room of a daycare. I was never confused about who actually owned the babies: I never felt as if I wanted to adopt them, or that the babies should prefer me over their parents. But by taking care of those babies day after day, there was a sense in which I felt part ownership in those babies. My work was forming them; my efforts improved their comfort and happiness; that time and effort and investment and care made those babies, to a certain degree, MINE.
There is huge satisfaction in this. “Possessive” is a word we tend to use with negative connotations, but in this case the meaning is stripped down, and positive. It is not particularly satisfying to invest time and effort in something that belongs to someone else: why would I take care of someone else’s house, someone else’s child, someone else’s skin? When the transfer happens, and the house, the child, the client become in a sense MINE, it changes the feeling. I am tutting over something that I want to take care of because now I am invested: if I feel ownership, if I feel POSSESSION of the item or place or person, then it is feels right to care about it, to take good care of it because I want it taken good care OF. It starts a good cycle, where working improves my feelings about working. It is also good for the client or the baby to get that kind of invested care, rather than apathetic “This isn’t MY house/baby/relative” care.
I have noticed already, however, that good possessiveness can get mixed up with the bad kind of possessiveness, the kind that involves jealousy and competitiveness. A caregiver might want to be the favorite caregiver, for example, and might, either on purpose or without really realizing it, withhold information from other caregivers in order to keep that crown. I saw it in myself recently: I found a way to coax a client to do something she’d been consistently resisting; it was hard to share that information with other caregivers. I wanted to be The One She Cooperated With, as others struggled. I liked that other caregivers were failing, and I was succeeding. Those are not feelings to encourage, or nurture, or indulge. I try to remember the caregiver who trained me, who left me a sheet full of tips she’d gradually acquired over the years: her impulse was to help the client by helping me, rather than to watch me struggle and fail in order to feel good about her knowledge and experience.
Or I’ve noticed that some caregivers want to complain that they are the only ones who do a certain task—but what they really value is the possessiveness of the complaining. If another caregiver starts helping with that task, the first caregiver isn’t then made happy; the first caregiver instead has to find a way to criticize the way the task is being done, or find another task that they’re the only one to do. This kind of possessive competitiveness can lead to some very clean client houses: “I am the ONLY ONE who washes the heating vents!!” This is where the caregiver who trained me had trouble. “No one else ever launders the curtains!,” she said, rolling her eyes at the laziness of some people, people who read the employee manual and saw the part about how we are not a housecleaning company and do not for example launder curtains or wash walls. “No one but me seems to be able to refill these supplies!,” she said, refilling them when they were only halfway used up, before anyone else would have a chance to do it.
The trick is to figure out how to harness the good, job-improving, client-life-improving parts of possessiveness, without tripping over the bad parts.
I’ve run into this at work as well. Knowledge is power, and some people don’t want to share information because it makes them more powerful. But in the end it isn’t beneficial. And I am sad to see there have been times I have behaved this way too. I really liked this post of yours, I wish I could go back in time and learn this lesson sooner!
It made me so happy to read this. My grandmother has caretakers around the clock now, and I hope they take care of her in this way–feeling possessive about her, wanting to give her the best care possible. And I’m glad you’re feeling positively about your job!
I remember very clearly when I felt that way about my husband, after we were engaged but before we were married, just that he was MINE and I was responsible for him. It felt good and pure at the time but it probably led me to say next, let’s get a different haircut next time and how do you feel about different frames for your glasses?, ha! I guess it’s normal and natural, for a thought or feeling that we have making us feel that if it a little bit of it feels good and right, what if we ADDED to it and maybe it would feel MORE good and MORE right?
This is so interesting,and a very astute observation. I’m wondering now where all that possessive pride has gone in my own life, say for instance in the area of housekeeping, and I decided it’s that my house is feeling less and less LIKE my own anymore, as children grow bigger and bigger and overtake more and more of the space. It’s not my house, it’s OUR house now, and if everyone else doesn’t pitch in, I just feel like a maid to other people, and not like a woman making her own space tidy and beautiful. Does that make sense? Or… have I just gotten tired and lazy?
I also wonder if this can apply to bodies, because when the kids were tiny and I was always either pregnant or nursing, I felt very little interest in self care, or in spending money or time on makeup and hair, and now I’m wondering if that was because it didn’t feel like my own body any more. Now that they have vacated my body and taken over my home, I’m finding my priorities reversed, and I can always justify spending time and money on my appearance but have a hard time mustering the will to clean.
Yes, I wonder the same about my own house. A client said to me recently, after I’d thoroughly scrubbed her kitchen floor, “I imagine your own house must be spotless!” and I said, “Ha ha! No.” I think you’re right that part of it got spoiled by “it’s OUR house, but I’M the one cleaning it” resentment. Part of it also went to boredom; cleaning the same things over and over again can be discouraging, too. And part of it is probably the pay: I’m feeling possessive care for the client’s house, but that’s almost certainly boosted by the feeling of Doing a Good Job.
I totally get what you mean! I used to work as a childcare provider, and I got so much satisfaction out of being the one the kids responded to the best. When certain kids got hurt, they would want me specifically to give them a band-aid. When certain kids would have meltdowns, I was the only one who could calm them down. When certain kids were having a rough day, I was the one who they’d confide in. And as a result, I felt extra-protective of those kids–and sometimes a little sad when one of my coworkers would try to do what I considered “my jobs,” even (and especially) if the kid responded to them the same. I know I should have been happy because all that matters is that the kid is well cared for, but man, it was hard sometimes.
Yes, yes, yes. I started nannying for two families almost 10 years ago, and for the first summer I worked for both. The second summer brought a new nanny, and I was seriously disgruntled. In the end she was fabulous, of course, and we remain friends. The anticipation of losing “my” domain, though, was not pleasant.
“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.”
:)
As usual, you are spot on. This is pretty much how it is in EVERY work environment. Some people are willing to share their knowledge while others horde it, thinking it somehow makes them indispensable.
What a great post and something that I think can apply to almost all work situations. Your posts about your new job make me so happy for both you and your clients. What a BRAVE thing you have done…and it sounds like you are getting more settled into your new role. But I am also happy that your clients have such a great caregiver. My grandparents had caregivers at the end of their lives, and how respectfully and wonderfully they treated my grandparents will always be with me. You are doing such a great service for your clients and their families!!
I’ ve been really enjoying your insights about caregiving. Our father in law (lives 6 hours away from us) has started having in-home care 2 hours/day, and your blog provides so many insights to me about a caregiver’s perspective. So far he has had lovely caregivers…he was very reluctant to let someone come into his home and it was wonderful to see how the initial caregiver made an effort to get to know him and determine what he liked and what would be most useful and pleasing to him. When we visit, we are almost underfoot — not in a negative way, but just that the caregiver and my FIL know what they are going to do that day (bath, meal planning, a grocery run) and both want to get on with the work that needs to be done. I think this is this possessiveness you describe setting in.
I feel exactly the same sense of possessiveness about my students. The beginning of the year is always hard because “my” students are in fourth grade with their new teacher and the kids in my class are a bunch of strangers that I don’t know. After a few weeks though, the new group becomes “mine” and I am very proud/frustrated/possessive like I am with my own son. By the end of the year it is really hard to let them go. I want to go to their next years teacher and give all sorts of advice and explain how to work with them. But, I usually refrain- the 4th grade teachers will be fine, but they aren’t me! Of course, there are always a few I am pretty happy to pass on to the next teacher!
I worked in an Assisted Living center doing the graveyard shift for a while, and my favorite part was that point where you start to figure out how each person likes things done and can anticipate those needs without having to be asked. Particularly on overnight shifts (because I think even people who might seem stuck-up or snobbish during the day have a tendency to feel vulnerable or scared in the middle of the night) it made me feel good to be able to offer that kind of comfort when it was most needed.