Tough Jobs: Life. Death. Emotion. These people see it all.

(All but Charles Broughton appeared in MEMPHIS WOMAN Magazine, December, 2004. )

When the topic of careers comes up, these people hear it over and over ... “I could never do that kind of work. That must be so depressing”

Any job has its frustrations, but some - at least from an outsider’s perspective- seem just sad. Going to work knowing you will be faced with unsatisfied customers, difficult coworkers or a pace that is too fast or too slow brings on its stresses, but imagine work where death, suffering and the constant reminders of how lives can be changed or even ended at any time are in the job description. Here are stories of a few of the people and how they make their “sad jobs” happen.

CHARLES BROUGHTON

As funeral director of Mabone Funeral Home, Charles Broughton sits alone in his office in Somerville, Tennessee while soft recorded piano music comes from the chapel. Not exactly alone, three is the elderly man lying in state waiting for visitation. Being in a small town in a rural county, he estimates he is at least slightly familiar with about four out of five of his customers. That can add to the sadness.

Broughton started working there when he was in high school. He was afraid of the environment but he needed the money and relatives owned the funeral home. Now at 64 he is still dealing with the sadness and has given up his earlier stress reliever- drinking.

“The family’s expectation of me is what keeps me going. I have to stay strong for them,” Broughton said. The family has lots of emotions happening at once and  the relief he can provide to the loved ones by taking care of arrangements is one thing that helps through the depressing aspect of his job. He lives in Memphis and was an embalmer at a funeral home there, but preferred the small town environment where he feels closer to the clients. Working in the larger funeral homes is a “numbers game” he said.

“You never get used to this business. You learn to adjust because each case is different,” he said. “If you prepare yourself it is not as depressing... it is all in the mind.” Babies and children are the most troublesome even for this veteran of the business. “Sometimes I have to pray, too,” he said.

Currently Broughton has a new employee and tells him to “Make sure to take some time off and get away, which I didn’t do ... if you let it build it up you have a problem. A big problem,” he said.  

PEGGY, MELISSA GOLDSMITH and CAROL FOLEY

All alone with no one to share life’s difficulties is a burden frequently felt in an urban environment. Since August, 1970, Memphians have had a number to call when needing social services, to talk about overwhelming issues in their lives or even when contemplating suicide. About 30, 000 people make the call every year to the The Crisis Hotline.

Since 1989, Melissa Goldsmith has been affiliated with the hotline first as a volunteer and now as program director. She has heard many a caller and worked with many trained volunteer crisis counselors. 

“The first year I didn’t believe what I was hearing on the phone lines,” said Goldsmith, whose work as a phone counselor has given her insight on how to help those who are there to help others. She sees how burnout can manifest itself in the counselors.

Sometimes they start to feel too much or too little in dealing with the callers. They may start to minimize the importance of their work. To combat this she encourages limiting themselves to two shifts a month so what she calls “the vicarious trauma as a result of taking the call” does not  spill over to the volunteer. She makes it clear to volunteers that she is available to counsel the counselors. Goldsmith also encourages volunteers to take time off and emphasizes the importance of taking care of themselves. “Let’s talk about that call,” Goldsmith will say to volunteers after a call that may be a bit overwhelming. When the volunteers become overwhelmed, “people will start to show up late and to make excuses for not coming in,” Volunteer Coordinator Carol Foley says, but she does not make them feel guilty for taking fewer shifts or taking time off.

Volunteer Peggy, who did not want her last name published, understands the gloominess of the job and the toll it can play. “I used to cry along with the callers,” Peggy said. At first she had three shifts per month but she became burnt out and left. She returned and now works a more manageable two shifts a month. 

Goldsmith says volunteers are to remain non judgmental towards the callers. Many well meaning friends will say to someone phrases like “cheer up” and “life goes on” while counselors are trained to know those are meaningless to callers with depression. “We don’t say to a diabetic ‘produce your own insulin, damn it!”  Goldsmith said.   

TAMI HODGES

From birth to childhood to the teenage years, from graduations to career to single life to marriage to children to grandchildren- all these are stages of life celebrated and fondly remembered. But as the days start winding down, another not celebrated period of life arrives many of us will face but don’t want to contemplate, perhaps because we are afraid of our own mortality. “There are a lot of people who don’t want to think about growing old, who don’t want to face the possibility of disease and their body changing,” Tami Hodges said. Though young and healthy, she faces it every day.

Hodges sees aging as just another part of life. Keeping that attitude helps the Social Service Director of Overton Park Health Care Center keep perspective and keep the job from becoming sad. “Like us these people have lived their lives...we are here to ease that progression,” she said.

“Why would you want to do that?” Is a question Hodges as heard from people ever since she started working in geriatrics in 1992. The Jackson, Tennessee native had also worked in a Greenville, Texas health facility before moving to Memphis in early 2004. “Not having done this kind of work people don’t realize it is not all gloom,” she said. She believes the constant reminder of ones own aging and mortality is why she gets the “why do you want to do that?” line of questioning.

An outsider sees people in wheelchairs, amputees, people with degenerative health conditions and people who need help eating, moving, bathing and going to the restroom. Hodges sees individuals. “It’s different with each individual,” she said. “These people have good things to remember. They are more prepared for this stage of life than we are,” Hodges said. She has seen patients “very bravely meeting the challenges of old age and disease,” Hodges said

There are times the work can be frustrating. She says her job is actually many jobs dealing with the patients and family, not the least of which is a problem solver. “Not everyone eases into the aging process. Some are angry that they are losing their independence and health.  And it is still hard to see people getting worse as their conditions progress. But she tries to keep in perspective “when we get older we need a little help along the way,” she said.   

MELISSA JAMES

A thin boy about six years old dressed in a basketball outfit walked to the wall of 54 bins filled with stuffed animals. “Pick out any of these bears to keep,” a woman said to him. In Melissa James’ office there were even more toys and games would make any child feel welcome. There is a reason the place is child heaven. These kids have been through hell.

James is a therapist at the Memphis Child Advocacy Center (MCAC) where she treats victims of child sexual abuse. The office deals with about 140 children per year.

The Louisiana native started as a clinical social worker six years ago at the Memphis Sexual Assault Center and then went to MCAC three years ago. The building also houses criminal justice agencies who initially see the child. After interviews with law enforcement, then they are brought to James usually about a month after the abuse was reported. James helps put their lives back together. Child sexual abuse is an issue that repels us but something that does not disappear by ignoring it.

“This field is so incredibly rewarding,” James said. “Working with children is great because they are so full of hope and inspiring.” James remembers dealing with a ten-year-old sexual assault victim. “I was thinking two hours ago this child was being raped and now I am talking to her in my office,” she said. “They inspire you. They have endured so much,” she said. ”They are so incredibly resilient.”

James sees daily a reminder of the dark side of humanity. To avoid becoming cynical she “keeps my life outside of work full. I stay stable and socially involved,” James said. She reminds herself, “Of all the kids who have been sexually abused there are many more kids who haven’t been,” she said. She is frustrated by seeing the guilty that go unpunished. The toughest cases for her are ones where a family is divided because the suspect was also a family member or close friend of the family. Other challenging cases happen where children report the abuse to a trusted adult and are treated with doubt and skepticism. The child may feel guilty thinking he or she created the family schism or even caused the abuse to happen.  Cases where the child gets a response such as “Thank you for telling me,” or “you are so brave,” or “it’s not your fault,” generally go far in helping the healing process.

During sessions she has directed play therapy to help children cope. When the child is first brought in he or she is given a stuffed animal even before dealing with the investigators.  Often the child bonds with the toy. “I still have my bear and I sleep with it,” is something James hears often and it makes her feel good.  Another thing she likes hearing is children a few years later who call her “just to say hello or how they are doing in school,” she said.

HEATHER LESLEY and LEIGH ANN BLAKELY

After starting with Baptist-Trinity’s hospice program, registered nurse Heather Lesley is learning about dealing with a different kind of patient. “I have to start my day with meditation and prayer and get my spirit in line with the Lord,” she said. “I had four death calls in a weekend. To see someone go to heaven was very profound for me,” Lesley said. “I have had to figure out how to handle the stress. I had to formulate a plan. It’s very intense and can sneak up on you.” Social worker Leigh Ann Blakely also finds faith in God as a way of dealing with the end of life journey. Exercise, rest and eating right, plus getting away now and then keep both of the women from being overcome. 

Blakely focuses on what she can do rather than focusing on the inevitable. “What can I do to help? You can’t change what is going to happen,” she said. “Hospice is not about death. It is about life,” Blakley said. But part of life is death and emotions of the patient, family and the caregiver become overwhelming. “Part of the dying process is that there is so much to take in and some of what you have is projected outwards,” Blakley said. Often the patient’s emotions are projected towards the caregiver who is trying to help. “We are seen as the enemy. We represent death,” Lesley said and remembered seeing one of her patients for the first time. The patient said to her “You’ve just written me off, too.” It took a while, but through making him more comfortable she gained his trust. “That did something for him and that emphasized to him we will do what we can to make his life better,” she said.

There is a team atmosphere among the caregivers. “To see how the team functions together is astounding and truly miraculous,” Lesley said. Hospice nurses, volunteers and social workers all have their jobs with the ultimate goal to get the patient “feeling better so they can deal with their condition better and say their good-byes,” Blakely said. The team also works to support the emotional needs among the caregivers. “We do a lot of listening to each other,” Blakely said. Lesley found her calling after seeing a story about hospice on the TODAY show in the Fall of 2003. She applied and was soon accepted. Once reality set in, “I was freaked out before I came here,” she said but started in January. After the death of a patient with whom she worked closely, “I came into the office just to wail. I think I buried my face in your chest, “she said looking towards Blakely. Though they maintain a professional demeanor with the patient, a caregiver can cry or get upset without the office thinking the person is falling apart or not right for the job. Lesley said that works well for her. “There has to be some element of release. I am a venter a crier and a screamer,” she said.    

They also see patients dealing with their troubles and learn from them. Both women are mothers and the hospice work helps them in that job, too. Lesley can say to her children with much more conviction, “I want you to think about what is really important.” Blakely’s oldest is nine and understands better what mom does at work and “thinks it’s pretty neat,” she said. So do her patients. 

TRACY STOKES

Perhaps the most surprising thing about how Tracy Stokes views her job’s sadness is she does not seem to see it.

At Avondale Elementary School in West Memphis, AR, Stokes deals with a classroom of special needs children. Six children between five and seven years old almost are a class in themselves, since each has a different goal be it learning to read or feeding themselves. Most of the time she is working one on one with the students. The students spend most of the time in the classroom. “None are all the way potty trained. Some have feeding issues. They are fed through a tube and there are a lot of medications,” she said. “I have to teach special ed. This is what I’m called to do. I could not teach in a regular classroom.” But she does not hesitate to identify the most frustrating thing about her job- paperwork.

She came into the work by accident. The Covington, TN native was studying to be a physical therapist at the University of Memphis. By her own admission, she “didn’t do well in science and math,” Stokes said. “I volunteered at Lebohner (Children’s Hospital) in the rehab and realized those are the types that I want to work with,” she said. After graduation she went to teach special Ed in Covington. She took a few years off to have her two children and returned to teaching at West Memphis.

She says she has supportive coworkers that help dealing with the children and their needs. She has a family that is believes in her work. But it is a simple solution she gives in dealing with her job. “Just love them. That’s mostly what they need,” she said.    

It is easy to think people who do these jobs are some how different from the rest of the population and born with some cast-iron shield surrounding them making them impervious to hurting while seeing people suffering. Or maybe they are just angels among us. But the men and women who do this are no different from the rest of the population. These are regular people who are just as prone to getting caught up in the emotions of life and work like everyone else. But all of them know what they do is essential work, someone has to do it and they have taken that responsibility.