T

The following outline, added by one of the members of the committee, definitely places the emphasis on technique: First, was the social history obtained sufficient? Second, were the problems clearly defined? Third, were the family and their immediate group consulted as to the making of the plan? Fourth, were this immediate group, as well as other sources of social history, used in this treatment? Fifth, what was the attitude of the worker toward the ideal of maintaining the family unit as a unit in making the plan? Sixth, what consultations influenced this? Seventh, why did the worker consider that her responsibility for the family ceased, and close the case?

A combination of the last two outlines should constitute a minimum basis for any really adequate evaluation of case work processes. It is evaluation of accomplishment, with emphasis on three different factors: the family, the community, and the agency. It is only evaluation which does embody these three factors which has any real meaning in the development of case work philosophy and technique. Furthermore, such analysis and criticism are vital to the progressive development of case work. It should be part of the program of every case work agency to make such evaluation of its work possible. This undoubtedly involves the institution of research departments, in case work agencies, by which I do not mean to imply that such an activity should be carried on in any way apart from the actual practice of the work. Neither is it possible for it to be included in the daily routine of the visitor. Probably the most ideal method would be to give a selected worker or group of workers the opportunity to combine such a research with a case work activity. For the processes of changing attitudes and other intangible phases of the art of case work are not to be found in case records to any satisfactory degree. Consequently, such criticism and analysis as has been outlined above can only be carried on by the workers themselves. Furthermore, such an opportunity would be a source of stimulation and inspiration, not only to the individual worker concerned, but to the staff as a whole, and it would undoubtedly play its part in allaying the feeling of discouragement which so inevitably haunts every thoughtful case worker.

Henry Seidel Canby, in a review of The Genius of Style, by W. C. Brownell, in the Saturday Review for February 7, 1925, states of literary style that "it is that lifting of individual expression into an order and rhythm which both perfects the expression and makes it comprehensible in its entirety by other men. It is a medium for personality, controlled by imagination and prolonged by the continuity of thought. It is not natural any more than speech is natural; it is simple only as a result of simplification." I do not know that anyone has ever defined case work technique, but I am wondering if it is not to the art of case work something very closely allied to what Mr. Canby has stated style is to the art of writing, and I am further wondering if evaluation is not as essential to the life and growth of the technique of the art of case work as literary criticism is to the life and development of literary style.

SOME TESTS FOR THE EVALUATION OF
CASE WORK METHODS

Mary P. Wheeler, Assistant General Secretary,
United Charities, St. Paul

Once upon a time there was a client who, through tears which blinded her sight but not her insight, gave a summary of what, in her mind, was the net result of contact with a keen case worker. The woman had managed her life badly, and the worker knew the facts. The case read: "Mrs. X, in defense of her husband's non-support, says she probably spent too much money on furniture and too much time in hard work which he should have shared in. She condones her husband's infidelity and seems unable to see clearly what her next step should be." But long afterward from the trembling lips of the client came: "It was here in my little sitting-room the worker told me I had taught my husband to loaf. God knows I did try to make him love that room. It was here in my shining kitchen that she told me I should have spent less time over the menial things of life. And here in our little bedroom, leaning against the baby's crib, she stripped the romance of life away, and where once my husband and I had erected our altar to love she only saw a desecrated temple. I liked that girl for the fearless honesty in her eyes, and I hoped she would like me too. Yet she didn't give me time to see things her way, and I am sorry now I did not take her advice."

Once upon a time there was a so-called case worker who told a pregnant high-school girl that as the father of her unborn child was a married man, and bigamy was unlawful, she could do one of two things: marry the man's bachelor brother or go to a state institution. The frightened girl found a third solution all by herself.

Once upon a time in a certain city a case worker died. It shook many a family to its depths. Love and despair longed to express themselves in positive ways. A group of small boys found a way and organized a squad to keep the · last watch. From the undertaker's to the railroad station they marched as escort to the hearse, then waited with uncovered heads by the lonely coffin till the midnight train carried their friend away into what was to them very real darkness. Had she not understood all their badness and yet been their friend? Had she not even made their parents understand them?

Now each worker obviously had methods, and each worker had an attitude of mind. Yet one brought death to the spirit of the woman. Another brought death to the body of the girl. But the third made an undying impression on some boys and their parents.

A first test, therefore, might be, "Who uses case work methods?" Well, we do. And who are we? When Alice thought herself most important in her travel through Wonderland, the Caterpillar bluntly ended a conversation by saying, "You, who are you?" And when Alice appeared offended, he added,

"Keep your temper." The public is saying, "You, who are you?" and, I suspect, secretly watching to see if we keep our tempers. The kind of people we are speaks out so loudly that the public and our relatives do not wait to hear our definition three paragraphs long describing ourselves as case workers. One terse adjective and one ugly noun, and we are damned as "smug meddlers" or "kept idealists." Is it fair to say, then, that just so long as we let practically anyone qualify and handle these tools called our case work methods, just so long will we have in our professional ranks third- and fourth-rate case workers to discredit us, just as third- and fourth-rate ambulance chasers discredit the legal profession? Whether we like it or not, whether it is just or not, whether we say "the public be damned" or not, that little age-old process of being sized up is going right on. The public dimly knows there are differences. We should meet the challenge and apply the test of who uses the methods. The best methods can be ruined by untrained and untrainable people just as truly as they can be transfigured and transcended by trained, eager spirits.

The second test is, "Where are we using it?" We are using it in a changing world, with changes of emphasis; in a world to mend. Yet some of us are plugging along as if unconscious that nearly fifty years have slipped by since first methods were being formulated. Do we really know what is going on in the world about us today, or what is going on in the public's mind, or in our client's mind, in our worker's mind, or even in our own minds? We acknowledge that the differences between us as case workers are as wide as the customs in the places of our birth-for we are of every race, and sect, and age. We observe differences in personal standards in different sections of the country. Is this method, then, something which we all can use? As each of us regards the standard of living today, so each of us goes out to influence individuals and families through case treatment. Do we admit the passing of old authorities? If we believe that fathers no longer have power of life and death over their children's physical being, do we also believe they should not have the power to break the spirit? Do we believe a husband should not enslave his wife's physical, mental, and spiritual life? What standards of conduct do we set up for the wife? Do we have any common agreement upon minimum grounds for divorce? Do we feel there is nothing sacrosanct in a biologically perfect family-man, woman, and children—and that they are individuals first, members of a group second? Are any of us still frightened over that phrase, "breaking up of a family"? Do we rather believe that no longer physical separation in a family group means breaking up of a family? And that a real bond of affection is not severed by a temporary or even more permanent separation of individuals from each other? Have we really challenged the so-called "home" as defined by many a man-a safe little kingdom where, once the door is shut, he can let loose his real nature, and in the name of love outrage his wife, and in the name of affection tyrannize over his children? Or the home dominated by a vain and shallow mother who demands constant expression of affection and maddeningly poses as a martyr at the stake earning

a halo? Do we admit that family feeling is not necessarily strong between married people, any more than we insist that marriage in every case rights a wrong? The fact that we raise these questions should make us face the test of the differences in present-day opinions and practices.

Case work methods-on whom do we use them? On our equals, our inferiors, or our peers? Case work grew out of caring for those who obviously fell below the poverty line; those obviously inadequate; those maliciously or wilfully dragging down the higher standards of life. In starting to use scientific methods, we have taken the disadvantaged groups in many fields. Montesorri methods were first tried on feebleminded children; industrial handicrafts on negroes. These methods are now used with all groups. In family social work, people needing us have been caught by the extremes of sentimentality and technicality. Will the same methods used by people thus widely motivated work equally well? Until we have some higher ground for accepting cases or limiting intake (after allowing for local conditions) a big test is right here. You may have challenged my emphasis on the public's lack of apprehension of our job. We can rationalize by saying that great movements usually are misunderstood. But do our fellow social workers really understand us? We often think not, when they expect us to honor their requisitions for blankets, railroad tickets, and drug-store prescriptions. We have let relief problems retard the comprehension of the other services we can render. Our peers will not come to us for services until we separate our functions further. Service is a separate concept. Why not try a new test, of training most case workers to give service, and a few to administer relief? This will help to guide us between the Scylla of niggardliness and the Charybdis of playing Lady Bountiful.

"To what purpose?" We have said to solve individual and family problems and for general social betterment. The original pitifully thin, chronological case record reported relief given. The next effort tried the classification of worthy and unworthy, revealing at the same time the barrenness of the recorder's observation. As a third step, we have tried to individualize the family and the treatment needed and we tend to become verbose. We are in the process of a fourth attempt to raise the standard of all case work. Might we not expect to find, as a result of all our record writing, some data on what are better homes? Do we have comparable pictures in our minds of what we think are better homes? It is out of our so-called "better homes" that the most reckless youths are coming. These homes are built on the breadwinning capacity of the parents, not on the attitude of the parents to each other. We must be able to justify our statement that our records contribute to the body of social data. If we do not accomplish this we shall merely justify the popular hit, "Social workers go 'round improving everybody-especially go 'round." Certainly all the things some social workers do are not social work.

Let us take another test-comparison with other fields. We are advised of publicity methods and talk of "the selling points of case work." The latest

street car signs take us through the whole gamut of life and death: a dollar down and a dollar forever. A placard bearing a Wrigley stork carrying a toothless baby informs us that every five seconds during the year is born another new customer for chewing gum. Another card tells us we can clothe the baby on credit: "Dress well and pay nothing." We turn our heads and see we can buy our lady love a diamond for nothing: "Why pay cash?" An auto is a necessity now, and a five-dollar payment will start us rolling downhill. The next card advertises a cheap funeral. We are thus helped to decide, at every turn in life, what we need, and the facilities for gratifying that need. I do not believe our profession wants any wholesale publicity methods any more than the legal and medical professions. The lawyer uses the method of trying to build up his client's confidence in his knowledge and in using that knowledge to help in a particular crisis. The teacher uses the method of imparting knowledge and of showing the pupil how to use it for his own growth. In each case the method involves the active participation of both the layman and the professional. Should the social worker not take a lesson from the methods of each of these professions, who at their best are already becoming socialized?

"Present methods": One of the committees in our American Association has been studying content. A definition of method is "a special form of procedure, especially in any branch of mental activity." Workers in eight states have been trying to analyze content. In Minnesota an analysis was applied containing four steps-what was done, objective sought, device used, and underlying philosophy. Here is an illustration applied to the record of a young couple who were separated, incompatible, they said. The little children were with the reluctant wife, and were supported partly by her and her relatives' efforts, partly by the husband's efforts. An interview was held with the rebelling man at his place of employment. The objective was to arouse a father's protecting instinct. The device used was to ask him what he thought was happening to his children. The underlying philosophy was that people should be motivated. Next he was told that his family would have to leave their present shelter with the wife's relatives. The objective sought was to force him to join in planmaking and to arouse his emotions. The device was to give the relatives' ultimatum. The underlying philosophy was "As a man thinks." Next we asked permission to write his relatives. The objective sought was to get his reaction to the request, which would give a better understanding of what led up to the family break. The device used was questioning him regarding living with his own family. The underlying philosophy-we all have something we are proud of in our past which helps us build a better future after a crisis. By this time the children were in a temporary shelter. It was suggested that the father see them at this home. The objective sought was the hope that seeing his children might re-establish the bond of affection. The device used was the offer of making necessary arrangements during his working hours. The underlying philosophy, belief in the power of a man to "come back." But the first steps are hard.