A Second LIne Social Work Parade

A Second Line Social Work Parade

John Paul Derryberry

Thursday, I sat on the scooter in a rented paisley tuxedo and watched an employee run out of our old mental health facility in a bathrobe. The crowd that gathered cheered wildly as the scene unfolded. I chuckled at the spectacle of the whole thing, actually, at what had transpired throughout the day. I signaled the cop with a series of horn honks from the scooter to lead the 2nd line parade I had dreamed up about a year ago to celebrate the closing of our 37-year-old facility and moving into our brand-new, renovated, specifically designed building for our clients, a mile away. My marketing director hit play on the music, and New Orleans jazz music began dancing through our upper Midwestern town. The large group of people behind me started walking, dancing, and laughing their way along our route.

My team pulled it off; we convinced city leaders and the police department to support this grand celebration idea. A second line parade was winding its way through our streets for a specific reason: to promote, celebrate, and champion mental health.  I sped ahead and turned my scooter around to take in the moment, as it was a unicorn sighting, and I saw a second-line parade go through our streets. Supportive signs, customs, banners, umbrellas, young, old, other service program partners, businesses, staff, neighbors, and clients all walked shoulder to shoulder. This grand marshall of the whole thing would have been a little teary-eyed on my scooter if it were so midwestern windy on our perfect fall day.

I entered social work over two decades ago and constantly encountered numerous people who were not bringing community, fun, and connection to their work in the social work world. It was frowned upon by many people when I even suggested teaching the troubled teenagers I worked with ballroom dancing. How dare we use laughter to heal trauma? How dare we take people who have suffered and tell them they belong because of their unique perspective on life? How dare we discuss social work openly in the community and overlook the idea that it should be placed on a pedestal?  I have had a through line throughout my entire social work professional life. We will achieve better outcomes if we commit to showing up, engaging with the community, and injecting fun into this.

The last 6 years are my proof that I wasn’t wrong. I needed much help to get to the teary-eyed scooter ride this past Thursday. From encouragement from some of my first bosses to buck the trend and try new things, to co-workers who cooked up some fun with me during my early days. To my wife, who, upon seeing my passion for this job and how much fun I had with it, told me to reach for doing even more. I do not think I have stopped reaching since she encouraged me. To my friends and family who have donated, attended events, and encouraged me to keep going. To my staff group at my current place of employment, for believing in a new way of doing things and helping me pull off a one-of-a-kind event. To the community I call home for showing up and believing in the way we do things.  It was a day that will forever be one of my top moments.

I usually avoid discussing my place of employment in my public speaking storytelling space. This Thursday is the exception because of the intersection of my personalities, life, and passion for being someone who leaves people, programs, and communities better than I found them. This was storytelling, emotional health, community building, and fun all rolled into my life’s work. I was the grand marshal of a second-line parade in a small city in Iowa. Music blared, people laughed, danced, waved, and walked together in support of people they did not even know. It was an example of humanity at its best.  We need these examples more than ever, as the world seems bent on pitting people against each other. My little corner of the world decided for a couple of hours to say we will stand, dance, laugh, and support each other shoulder to shoulder.  My community was better, my mission, at least for Thursday, was fulfilled, and my desire to do this work to the best of my ability was completely reignited; the flame is danced to the jazz music and swayed with all the people along for the fun.