Amanda,
I have often wondered what my life would be like if you were not a part of it. I cannot imagine a single event of my life that would be the same without you. You are attached to all of my memories. Like when we made the Lindsay and Amanda Club. I'm pretty sure that cardboard sign is still in the laundry room in the basement. Or that time you did my hair and you told me to go to school telling everyone it was "ghetto" and you laughed your ass off when I repeated it and then told me I probably shouldn't say that because I was in preschool. I am going to blame the truck driver mouth I have today on you breaking me in when I was so young.
Growing up, we were always there to make each other laugh, even in your moody teenage years when you never came out of your room. I would get in trouble and mom or dad would be yelling at me and you would come out and tell them to leave me alone. Even so you teased me all the time because it was your job as my older sister. And I annoyed you be freaking you out about boohbahs because it was my job as your younger sister. You were the mean older sister, and I was the annoying younger sister.
I always wanted to be just like you. I wanted to wear the same clothes as you, listen to the same music as you, watch the same TV shows as you, and have the same friends as you. You, of course, did not want any of that. I was the Stephanie Tanner to your DJ Tanner, but it worked for us, because at the end of the day, we had each other's backs.
You have always been there for me, even in my most desperate times of need. High school wasn't easy, and college isn't any easier. But you're always just a text message or phone call away. You have always been on my side no matter what. You have saved my ass more times than I could thank you for. Even when I roll my eyes at you, I know you're always saying what you're saying or doing what you're doing for my benefit. I've learned from your mistakes, and I appreciate that.
You're the most wonderful big sister a girl could ask for. Sometimes you still see me as a little girl copying you, but ultimately I am glad to see how our friendship has evolved throughout the years. No longer are we singing *NSYNC or Backstreet Boys or Britney Spears, but we are actually singing Luke Bryan and Miranda Lambert and Rascal Flatts. Thanks for being my best friend throughout all of the ups and downs. You're my partner in crime, and I cannot thank you enough for that. Love you always!
Love,
Your Favorite Little Sister
Every time I tell someone that I am a social work major, the response I get is something along the lines of "oh, you're never going to make any money!!" I usually just nod and laugh, because the truth is, I don't want a job that's going to make me rich if I can't help anyone while doing it. Currently I am taking the intro to social work class, and my professor shared the following article with us. For all those people who think I am going to make nothing, please read the following story, written by Mary S. Sheridan, PhD, ACSW, a social work professor at Hawaii Pacific University.
The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life. One man decided to explain the problem with social services. He argued, "How's a person going to benefit from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a social worker?" He reminded the other dinner guests what they say about social workers - "bleeding heart liberals." To stress his point, he said to one of the guests, "You're a social worker, Bonnie. Be honest. What do you make?"
Bonnie, who had a reputation for honesty and frankness, replied, "You want to know what I make?" She paused for a second, and then began. "Well, my colleagues and I make safe places for abused children and battered wives. In the process, we do our best to make them feel that they didn't deserve the treatment they got, so they can go out and do better in their lives. We make arrangements for the elderly to go home from hospitals with adequate care, and run support groups so their caregivers don't burn out. When a young widow or single mother doesn't know where to turn, my colleagues and I make sure that she knows - whether people like it or not - what benefits she's eligible for. And we do the best we can to make sure she doesn't get lost in the bureaucracy. We make plans with clients so they can get jobs and homes. And this is only a start."
"You want to know what social workers make?" Bonnie asked again. She paused and looked at every person at the table. "We make visits in neighborhoods that a lot of people wouldn't go to on a bet because we know that people there are in need. And we make friends there who invite us back to their weddings, their luaus, and the opening of the community center that we campaigned for. We make time to listen to the elderly, the mentally ill, the lonely. And we have knowledge and skills to help them make real improvements in their lives. We make appointments with officials and testify before the legislature to get everyone in the community a fair shake. Some us teach, to make the next generation's social workers. And sometimes, we make plans with our friends and families - and then have to break them because there's an accident, a fire, a disaster here or in another state or even another country, and a social worker is needed."
Bonnie paused one last time and then continues. "So when people want to judge us by what we make, we can hold our heads up high and say, 'I make a difference...what do you make?'"
My future profession is not all about how much money I am going to make. Yes, survival and comfort are both important, but so is helping other people who are in need. So if and/or when I tell you I am a social work major, I would really appreciate it if you would respond with something other than "oh you're always going to be struggling!" because to be honest, the people I will be helping are going to be struggling much more than I will be.
