Skin.

(Told you I was bad at this blog thing)

I have worked/volunteered/interned in residential treatment or correctional facilities since December 2007. I've worked with kids as young as five and with adults in their 60s and 70s. I've worked with those with mental illness and those with extensive criminal records. Some call it crazy. I call it my life.

I've been spit at, kicked, swung at, and threatened. I've been cat called, whistled at, and called every derogatory term in the book (and then some...people are very creative). I cannot tell you how many times I've been yelled at or been told that someone hates me. Needless to say, I've developed a thick skin. Callused in some places. But I will absolutely admit that there are some days when they (the clientele that I work with) find that weak patch and rub it raw.

I'll get in my car and cry on the drive home because I couldn't tolerate that day for whatever reason. Something got to me or something I brought into work with me from my own life made me just a little more vulnerable to the potential yuck and muck that I would face that day. Setting myself up for failure, in a way, because I didn't choose my attitude (ask any of my clients...that's my mantra). But here's the glorious thing...I have a loving Heavenly Father that gives me a new day every day. And our bodies are made to heal those raw places. Sure, they might leave a scar, but that just gives you another war story to share.

I'm really working on making the conscious decision to check my own stuff at at least one of the three to seven doors that I walk through on my way into work, and doing the reverse on the way out. You can't save them all, but you can't help any if you can't help yourself. I learned that the hard way early on in my career.

Are there days where I want to pull my hair out and storm out the door or throw myself on the floor and have a two year old tantrum? You bet.

Are there days where I am reminded of exactly why I fell in love with this field in the first place and motivate me to make everyday like that one? You bet.

I'm so thankful the latter weighs out the former.

'Ello.

I've tried more than once to get a blog going and have epically failed most of the time. So here's the new plan.

We've all heard of the move and/or musical "Legally Blonde," where your stereotypical "dumb blonde" goes on to receive a law degree from Harvard. I'm not at Harvard. I'm not a lawyer. I don't work to rescue people from a conviction or push for them to be convicted. I work those that have already been convicted and/or are on the path to that. So, instead of calling it "Legally Blonde," I decided to go with "Criminally Blonde." Doesn't have quite the same ring, but who knows, maybe it'll catch on.

Anyways...I'm hoping to use this blog as a way to share my struggles and my successes as I work with those who have had a rough go so far. Share crazy stories about other things going on in the prison system and get opinions from other people about the correctional/treatment system as a whole.

So here I go...

Welcome to this crazy journey.