Social educators on the edge: "We've normalized aggression and threats against minors."

BarcelonaThe murder of a social worker in a juvenile justice floor in Badajoz The death of three of the admitted children has inflamed the spirits of Catalan professionals. This Wednesday morning, they gathered outside their workplaces, and in the afternoon, they did so in Barcelona's Plaça de Sant Jaume, at a gathering organized by the College of Social Educators of Catalonia (CEESC), which attracted nearly 200 people. "We're not surprised by what happened in Badajoz," exclaimed a professional who works at a shelter, the "funnel" through which abandoned minors pass under the guardianship of the Directorate General for Child and Adolescent Care (DGAIA) before being referred to the final resource. "We've normalized many complicated situations, assaults, and threats," asserted Noèlia.

Most of the protesters agreed on the "lack of support" from the public administration (specifically, the Departments of Social Rights and Justice) and from the private entities and foundations contracted to manage the centers and supervised flats. At the rally, slogans were shouted demanding "more security," and the CEESC manifesto read out denounced the precarious and unstable contracts, the daily exposure to risky situations, and the low social recognition of the profession.

The educators explain that sick leave and high mobility due to the harsh conditions mean that the staff at many centers often includes "substitutes for substitutes for substitutes," as Joan said. This means that the staff is not sufficiently trained to deal with minors who carry very difficult life burdens or who have committed a crime.

The ratio of one educator for every five children is barely being met, professionals maintain. First, because staff are not always fully staffed, as these professionals must accompany the child to doctors, psychologists, and activities, and therefore the remaining staff are below the ratio. There are fewer professionals assigned to morning, evening, and weekend shifts, and not all centers have security personnel.

From the educators' accounts, we can deduce that every day there is some complicated situation, which is overcome—they emphasize—through "vocation." Elvira explained that throughout her career she has experienced assaults, hair pulling, spitting, and even serious threats. Several educators speak of riots, chairs flying through the air, and one of the professionals summarizes a majority sentiment: "When you go to work, you think you're going to war; you don't know what you're going to find, and sometimes you even think the only thing you can do is open the door," she said.

The more veteran educators point out that over the years, the profiles of the minors they serve have changed: they note a higher prevalence of mental disorders and addiction problems, which are aggravated by the fact that there are not enough specialized centers for these adolescents, and therefore, they must be mixed. There are also no places in children's psychiatric hospitals or appointments at mental health centers. The therapeutic units "can't keep up," says one educator, who warns that nurses and psychologists also have to spend a lot of time on paperwork.

In the Intensive Residential Education Centers (CREI)—which serve these more complicated profiles—they also don't have enough staff to provide adequate care and basically end up focusing on the "emotional and physical support" of these minors. "We're always on the edge," stated another of the participants. A group of young educators who work in an open center (where minors with socio-educational disabilities spend their afternoons) explained that they have also experienced difficult situations and, on top of that, feel "disregarded" by other social services.