Despair vs. Disparity

I am ashamed.
When I initially work with a family, suspicion is the norm. I don't trust them, I don't feel safe in their home, I don't believe that what they are telling me is the truth.
Ashamed...but it's how the world has taught me to be.

Until yesterday, I thought my uneasiness was my "wise as a serpent" intellect at work. Instead, what I learned was my doubt was really my prejudice.
Very Ashamed.

Yesterday I received an investigation (4:00pm on a Friday= not a happy social worker) that took me to a part of central Ky I had not ventured. As I was following my G.P.S...that my husband and I have named Gus...through the streets of the upper-middle class suburbs, I was surprised. Lets just say that my typical clientele do not normally worry about clutter in their two-car garages, forgetting to put out their Rosies or paying their neighborhood dues. So when I pull in front of a beautiful two-story, stone, home- I let my guard down; the same guard I have been trained to ALWAYS have up.

Long story (sort of) short, this cute little wealthy family that I had come to interview- immediately made me feel comfortable just because I knew they had money and could maintain a nice and clean home. The entire 90 minutes I was in the home, I wasn't searching for drug paraphernalia or  making sure there wasn't pedophile living in their basement. I judged them for having iphones; I assumed they could not put me in harms way because their children were wearing American Eagle jeans and hoodies. I automatically trusted that their testimonies were the absolute truth.
Majorly Ashamed and Unwise.

Luckily, I actually was safe and nothing dangerous happened. However, I realized that I should continue to be cautious of my surroundings wherever my job takes me...not just in the trailer parks or ghettos of Jessamine County.