Although there was admittedly some degree of relief at being given an unexpected reprieve from campus, what concerns me is how intense the protests were this year- the worst I've seen since starting university-, as well as how all this lost time will be regained...As it stands, my lovely colour-coded year planner is now filled with a mass of black lines and arrows as lectures, tests, fieldwork and assignments have been rearranged or postponed.After four years on campus, my strike routine is familiar:
1. Once rumours start circulating, check social media: Facebook, where strikers proclaim their grievances and plans of action for everyone to see (but which the university and police have since failed to use effectively to identify perpetrators of violence and damage...), WhatsApp, where on-the-scene updates are rapidly posted on the various campus groups, and the student Email system, where the university sends out official (albeit extremely delayed) updates on the situation
2. Go outside and climb onto the picnic table in my garden, from which I have a view of the entire campus, and look for black smoke signifying burning tyres, chairs, washing machines, or whatever the strikers have gotten hold of to barricade entrances
3. If I happen to be on campus already, listen out for heavy marching footsteps and protest songs, sometimes interspersed with various banging noises, announcing the approach of a group of striking students. (This is sometimes preceded by the sight of panicked first-years bolting past lecture venues on their way to the nearest exit...)
However, this year, the level of destruction and intimidation far exceeded anything seen at this campus before. Although the frustration experienced by students at the decisions taken by the university regarding student funding is understandable, I do not believe that it justifies the degree of destruction that has occurred over the past week.Driving past a news billboard the week the protests began, I was saddened to see that the damage to university property was estimated at R30 million, to replace the destroyed vehicles and equipment, and repair the buildings that were burnt during the protests.
Discussing the situation with a few older friends from other campuses brought up some thought-provoking points about generation Y, and whether the sense of entitlement common to this generation has any link to the escalating violence of student protests over the years.
According to a 2014 article by Forbes magazine, Generation Y, encompassing individuals born in the 1980s and 1990s, are characterised by a tendency to question authority, place great importance on their own opinions and are motivated by autonomy. Generation Y tends to be ambitious, likely as a result of constant sought-after affirmation by parents, the media and peers (GAIA Insights, 2015).
Having been bombarded with messages about how special and unique we each are, and how powerful our contribution to the world is, through advertising, media messages- what I call the Disney mentality- and the success stories of popular Gen Y entrepreneurs, it is possible that students believe that they are unconditionally entitled to tertiary education, which for many people equates to success, and that they are capable of achieving this through radical means. As a generation that tends to push the boundaries, the escalation of these protests may signify the attempt to go beyond what was done before by previous students, in the hope of achieving more as a result.However, it is equally possible that the protests are simply a symbol of the deeper anger and frustration evident in all sectors of society, that is manifesting on our campuses in a similar way as in the widespread service delivery protests across the country. 21 years into democracy, many people still live in similar socio-economic conditions as they did pre-1994, with a growing sense of frustration at the persistent inequality and poor conditions that many people expected the new Government to alleviate (Allan, Heese, 2012). With education perceived as the only way out of a spiral of poverty, it is possible that students may, out of desperation to retain their place at University, go to any means possible to ensure their grievances are heard. Seeing the tired, bleak looks on many faces as I drive past informal settlements or walk through hospital waiting rooms, I can understand why many students will go to such lengths to escape the same future.
Nevertheless, the extra week gave many of us some time to recuperate from the first half of the semester, and review how Psychosocial fieldwork has played out so far.
Translating theory into practice has never required as much effort in other OT modules, (perhaps with the exception of Neurodevelopmental Therapy...) as, unlike working with the body in Physical Fieldwork, working with the mind in Psychosocial fieldwork is a far more abstract and complex thing.
Psychiatric disorders are not visible, therefore unlike in Physical, a lot depends on the client's subjective experience, and how they express this through their words and behaviour during therapy sessions. For the first few weeks, I felt as though I was inferring too much out of each observation with my client, and drawing conclusions based on little concrete evidence. Using craft or leisure activities, I was trying to deduce the client's functioning in daily life.
The breakthrough came during one of our student-supervisor discussions, when the importance of functional assessment and intervention was drilled into our brains.
It may seem obvious- it certainly seems like common sense to me now- but it took an absurdly long time to finally hit me that the best way to determine how a client functions in real life is to literally observe how they function in real life... by taking them into the community, or if that's not possible, to simulate as accurate a situation as possible to determine the client's real level of function.
That changed the way I approached Psychosocial assessment and intervention- instead of using arbitrary activities to assess and treat performance components, I learnt to go straight to functional simulations more suited to my client's level of creative ability. With intellectual impairment, clients have difficulty transferring skills from one context to another, meaning that it is important to teach a skill in the particular context it will be used in for the client to be able to use it effectively post-intervention. With intellectual impairment, how a client performs in one situation does not necessarily indicate how they are likely to respond in the real world, where unfamiliarity, anxiety and poor social skills come into play (DSM IV), therefore the importance of accurate simulation and carry-over of therapy by managers and parents into real situations is of utmost importance to ensure true functionality.
Another important lesson I learnt was to narrow my focus. Instead of creating an airy-fairy treatment programme that attempted to fix everything in one go, I learnt to focus on single, practical aspects at a time. Mastery takes a great deal of repetition. Teaching a client a single task that they can carry over into their everyday lives, and reinforcing the behaviour thoroughly, is far more effective than teaching them complicated tasks that a parent will have to assist with and will therefore most likely be forgotten. Instead of teaching a client how to cook a few meals, teaching them to master making their own lunch in the mornings instead is something more realistic and relevant to their context and the time available for therapy. 
Working in a psychiatric setting has, so far, been one of the most rewarding experiences. Every time one of our clients makes the smallest accomplishment, our day is made, and we go around grinning arbitrarily like lunatics. We have developed unique bonds with each client; it's heart-warming when they come to us with their problems and accomplishments, showing that we have become a part of their lives just as they've become a part of ours.There is a lot I still have to learn: improving the carry-over of my therapy into the real world, and perfecting the balance between a holistic, but realistic lesson plan, among others.
However, I can see the growth in myself and my colleagues, as we have begun to grasp the idea of what it means to be an OT in Psychiatric and Mental health. This block has pushed us to develop more assertiveness, better people skills and stronger analytical thinking. I know that one of the aspects I need to work on is my knowledge base, as despite my ongoing research around mental health, one thing I have found is that the more I read, the more I realise how much I still have to learn, as each new bit of information opens a whole new door of exploration. I have found that the more information and experience I gain, the more confident I am in my own therapy, and the more faith my clients have in me. Therefore, I feel it's important that I continue to explore new OT models and ways of approaching intervention, so that I can offer my clients accurate and effective therapy.
We still have a way to go in terms of our learning, but with one week left of fieldwork, it's time to tie together all we've learnt, and do the best we can for our clients before we leave.
Allan, Heese (2012) Understanding why service delivery protests take place and who is to blame . Retrieved from: http://www.municipaliq.co.za/publications/articles/sunday_indep.pdf
GAIA Insights (2015). Generation Y Characteristics. Retrieved from http://www.generationy.com/about-generation-y-in-the-workforce/characteristics/
DSM IV
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