I guess I should start by defining what a Ya-Ya is for those who did not grow up in the South. Sisterhood is a powerful and empowering community of women who share a deep bond of sisterhood, friendship, and support. Truthfully, not necessarily a Southern thing but perhaps a term that came about after a novel that was written by Rebecca Wells.

I started in this field as an investigator in a small rural town in Louisiana. We did not have a lot of resources and we did not have a lot of initial training other than those defined in public law (insert here the number that I can’t remember). I learned about genograms and systems theory but very little about how to know when a parent is lying to you about the cause of an injury or how to recognize when a child is scared to death to talk to you or what to do when a parent pulls a shot gun on you on your second report assigned to you to investigate. But I was lucky. I had my Ya Yas ready to step in and help me make my way. I was fortunate to work in that small resource deprived city for ten years. In that ten years one of the things that I had reinforced over and over again is listening to my gut. When my gut told me a child was not safe I listened and asked for help or dug deeper. Sometimes I got a little nudge from those around me. This is something that isn’t addressed in the policies or even the risk and safety assessment models. It is a “when you know, you know” kind of thing or was back then in 90’s. But it isn’t a phenomenon that can be carried out without being based in fact. You can’t just go and remove kids from parents on a gut feeling. The gut feeling is there to guide you.

Sometime in the early years of my career I caught a case involving a military family. A young Mom and Dad and a child that was preverbal—maybe two. I had been out trying to locate this child for several days. It was a Friday afternoon when I finally caught the Mom by surprise. They lived in a trailer park in a really run down almost unsafe trailer. It was close to base—that trailer park was well known to our office. I was likely out there at least twice a week. This particular time, the mom would not let me in. I could see the child hiding behind her. The dad was the soldier. I had tried to locate him as well. She informed me he was in the field and that she was not letting me in the house and she was not going to let me see the child up close.

The report was not all that “serious” in nature. Ambiguous at best. A friend called it in. Parents are always yelling at the baby. He doesn’t talk and should be making some attempts. He cries a lot. Child was hit. No context to the hitting. There are probably a hundred of these that are reported in a year. Some get assigned. Some do not.

In the moment that she refused to let me in and let me see the child up close, my gut kicked in. I personally loved working military cases. There was a safety net. There was never a time you could not locate a solider. The Army always knows where their men are and while they can’t make a spouse comply; they can certainly make the soldier comply and usually through the soldier get the non-military spouse to comply. I did not have a cell phone. It was the pre cell phone era.

It was 4 in the afternoon on a Friday. I drove directly to the military hospital and plopped into a chair in Ms. Daisy’s office. She was a social worker for the Army. We shared this report. It was late in the evening but she called and got the soldier brought in from the field and within an hour they appeared at the mom appeared at the hospital with the child. I will never forget Daisy having the mom disrobe the child. She got as far as taking his little t shirt off. I was sitting behind sort of in a corner. I took a

different more relaxed role and let Daisy or whomever the social worker on base was, take the lead. I was getting set up to take notes and I heard Daisy say to the mom “Who beat your child?” I whipped my head up and looked at Daisy. Mom denied the child being beat. However the proof was all over his little trunk.

In that moment, I have to say I tried to get centered. I had been sitting there in my head so frustrated and quite angry that on a Friday night I was having to tie up this case and it would have been one and done had she let me in the house. I also have to say I had originally pointed my car in the direction of home but the mantra in my head was “your time to contact this child is up. You have to see the child today”. It was true. I was out of time and in order to stay in compliance with policy regarding timeframes I would need to make contact today. So I had angrily u turned and headed back to base. Not what I wanted to do on a Friday night. I wanted to go meet my friends for our standard Friday night meal at the “Catfish Junction”. I wanted to eat fried catfish and relax after being on call all week.

Daisy’s piercing blue eyes looked from the mom to me. She left her office to talk to the First Sgt out in the hall. The soldier was brought in from the field. The First Sgt stood watch over child and mom and I slipped out into the hall. Within 30 minutes, I had a court order in hand. A foster placement secured, an interview with the mom and a full child abuse work up started in the emergency department of the Army Hospital.

I wasn’t done that night. The work bled into the early morning as I had to drive out the foster placement about 30 minutes away.

I remember the next Monday having a wrap up with Daisy and preparing our case for Case Review Team—a Multidisciplinary Team for the Military. She looked at me—handed me a lollipop out of her candy jar. She grabbed one for herself. She leaned up against the front of the desk facing me. Our feet almost touching. Looked at me and asked me how I knew there were so many bruises covered up. I took a minute and said I didn’t. The conversation continued and she said something like, “You know likely that next step saved his life”. It was overwhelming. The loudest voice in my head on Friday was it is nothing. Go home and start over on Monday. You have plans to meet your friends. You deserve a break. It was the smallest voice that said there is a reason for timelines and contact requirements. I mumbled something back to her along the lines of dumb luck. Those piercing blue eyes looked at me and said nonsense! I was so lucky to have her help me to learn all the things. We debriefed that case. We talked about red flags. We talked about the things that pushed me to turn around and come looking for her help to get that baby in to be seen. We talked through the medical information and the findings on the skeletal survey. I stumbled into the right decision that Friday but after my meeting on Monday I had a clear path to recognizing and responding to the red flags or gut feelings the next time.

There is power in doing this work together and not alone. There is power in taking a multidisciplinary approach to child abuse. There is resiliency in working together on behalf of a child who is at the heart of an abuse report. My Ya Yas taught me that. My experience has proven it over and over again. There are a million stories involving the women I worked with showing me how to recognize a pathway to safety for children that might be unable to tell you they are unsafe. They taught me to slow down. They taught me that I would fail sometimes. They taught me that I did not have all the answers…heck probably not even close to half the answers. They taught me to have a “Growth Mindset”.

This experience and many like them have shown me that the only way to counter bias is to not work in a vacuum. This experience and many like them taught me it is not important to always have all the answers in thirty minutes but to slow it down and listen. A team is a powerful tool. The most powerful tool in your tool box when investigating child abuse and assessing safety. One of the next powerful tools is to approach every case with a growth mindset…with the intention of listening to someone else’s perceptions, experiences and thoughts. These two things… relying on others for help and guidance and being open to learning new approaches will help to build resilience and avoid burnout. Really it is one thing. Recognizing you do not have and should not do this work alone. There is power in a team approach. There is power in working collaboratively. The outcomes are improved. Not just for the child but for the professional as well.