Member Voices

Member Voices is an initiative that gives social workers across Montana a platform to share their stories and social work experiences.

Are you a Montana Social Worker or Social Work student interested in being featured as a Member Voice? Click Here to learn more!

Melissa D. Reyna

University of Montana MSW Student

Sustaining Ourselves Through Connection: Lessons from a Practicum Year

Social work has a way of placing us in deeply human spaces. Moments where vulnerability, resilience, and uncertainty sit side by side. During my practicum year, I learned that growth in this profession rarely comes from feeling fully prepared. Instead, it emerges from our willingness to stay present, curious, and compassionate, even when the work feels heavy or when our confidence wavers. What surprised me most was how often the most meaningful lessons surfaced not in textbooks, but in the quiet, everyday interactions that reminded me why I chose this field.

One of the most powerful lessons came from witnessing how people show up for one another in times of crisis. Whether supporting someone navigating grief, anxiety, or a sudden life transition, I saw how deeply people long to be met with dignity and without judgment.

The NASW Code of Ethics emphasizes the inherent worth and dignity of every person, and I felt that principle come alive each time someone trusted me with their story. I learned to slow down, to listen with intention, and to honor the strength people carry - even when they cannot yet recognize it in themselves. These moments reminded me that social work is not about having the perfect intervention; it is about creating a space where healing and self-determination can take root.

My practicum also held up a mirror to my own internal world. There were days when imposter syndrome crept in, when unread emails piled up, or when I questioned whether I truly belonged in this profession. What shifted things for me was realizing that vulnerability is not a flaw in social work; it is part of the work itself. Conversations with supervisors, classmates, and mentors helped me understand that self-doubt is a common companion in graduate school, especially in a field built on navigating complexity. Those connections grounded me and reminded me that community care is not something we offer only to clients; it is something we must extend to ourselves and one another.

I also learned that self-care is not an optional add-on. It is an ethical responsibility. Burnout rarely arrives dramatically; it accumulates quietly, disguised as “pushing through.” I began paying attention to the subtle cues: tension in my shoulders after a difficult shift, irritability at the end of the week, or the way my mind replayed conversations long after I had logged off for the day. Reconnecting with creative practices, spending time outdoors, and setting firmer boundaries helped me return to my work with more clarity and compassion. These practices were not about stepping away from work, but about sustaining my ability to do it well.

As I move forward, I carry a deeper understanding that social work is a lifelong learning process - one shaped by humility, reflection, and connection. The work can be challenging, but it is also profoundly hopeful. Every moment of trust, every small step toward healing or justice, reaffirms why we choose this path and reminds us that we do not walk it alone.

Allie Jellison

University of Montana MSW Student

What Practice Teaches Us When Confidence Wavers

My social work practicum experience for graduate school began with a series of interviews. A rhythmic familiarity developed in the interview process until one left me in tears. The interview posed many questions that led me to reflect on being perceived as too incompetent, naive, and anxious for the field of social work. I wondered if this was due to my candid nature. Did I discuss my insecurities too bluntly for a casual, semi-professional practicum interview? Perhaps. Nonetheless, I went into a panicked frenzy, triggering my deeper confidence and self-esteem issues.

I was quick to speak with my advisor following the interview, seeking reassurance that provided me relief. However, as the fall 2025 semester reached mid-way, it was evident that cycles of rumination and lack of confidence were winning. This started appearing in smaller ways, the increasing amount of unread emails, and blank documents instead of written paragraphs. I began to question my sense of belonging in the program, and my role, and the inability to feel confident in my work. In turn, I was deeply lacking motivation, but in need to regain some self-compassion.

I had some conversations with my supervisor and therapist and was able to connect with some classmates. It was through these conversations with my peers that I was able to interpret other perspectives. We are all in a place where our confidence is being questioned, in varying levels. Graduate school creates new challenging opportunities, and self-doubt is such a normal part of this or any learning process. I was starting to believe that talking to other people helps you feel less alone, and I was feeling better. Conceptually, I understood this. Still, I needed to actually put this idea into practice, and that was not going to happen with social work alone; it was already too ingrained. I needed another avenue and a way to connect to the present moment.

I decided to sign up for a pottery class. I was dreadful at it, I was nervous, and felt awkward and out of place, just like I did in social work. The class progressed, and I learned the basic ideas behind techniques. My instructor demonstrated how to make a cylinder looking mug; mine reflected a lopsided bowl, but I was creating, intrigued and excited to go to class. It didn’t matter that my pieces were misshapen; I was starting to feel more grounded. Eventually, looking back, I realized this pottery class taught me what social work is teaching me now: growth comes from practice, not perfection.

My confidence and anxiety haven’t been magically fixed by one pottery class and conversations with others, but they don’t need to be. In the social work field, connection, sincerity, and care plays a large role, and it’s important we give ourselves that same kindness. Doubts will arise, and when they appear, reaching out and engaging in self-care are essential. We aren’t alone in this journey, and by supporting each other, we are better equipped for the challenges ahead.

Trisha Jennings

Trisha Thompson-Jennings

University of Montana BSW Student

There's No Timeline for Growth

Returning to school over fifty meant owning my educational history instead of apologizing for it. I had tried four times before, earning my associate’s degree at thirty-seven and accumulating substantial student debt along the way. Those experiences were expensive and humbling, but they taught me lessons about persistence, resilience, and self-reflection that continue to shape how I move through the world.

Deciding to go back to school as a non-traditional student made me think about the messages we absorb through media, societal norms, and unspoken judgments that suggest what a “typical” student should look like. I have become mindful of how these messages are viewed by people like me—those who may seem out of place. Society often assumes that at this stage of life, I should be stable and grounded rather than focused on growth and development. Returning to college meant pushing against that expectation and choosing growth, even when it came with social discomfort.

I have two adult children who have heard the stories of my successes and setbacks, and how often the two overlap. I have taught them that there is no timeline for their ambitions and that comparison to others should be left behind, so they can forge paths that feel right to them. Younger students are often portrayed as being at the ideal stage for education—more adaptable, quicker to adjust, and on the “correct” timeline. At times, these ideas make me worry that I am already behind before I have even begun. As a parent, however, I know this timeline has never fit everyone.

Reconciling these contradictions has required me to rethink how age is understood within social work. As a social work student, I have come to recognize how these beliefs shape who is seen as belonging in academic spaces and whose experiences are valued. These assumptions have occasionally left me uncertain about my own skills and abilities. That awareness has strengthened my commitment to approach both my education and future practice with humility, critical reflection, and respect for lived experience in all its forms.

Through this process, I have come to understand that my age and life experiences are not barriers to competence, but essential sources of it. Parenting children with disabilities, navigating my own health challenges, surviving hardship, and recalibrating my life more than once have shaped how I connect with others and honor their autonomy. These experiences allow empathy to feel natural rather than performative. Grounded in the belief that every person carries inherent dignity and worth, I now see age not as a limitation, but as a source of depth, perspective, and a greater capacity to show up for others.

I will graduate this spring, proud to do so as a non-traditional student. I remind my children that life includes setbacks, failures, and high points, and that no matter what we are told about how things are “supposed” to unfold, life does not follow a single timeline. What matters is not when we arrive, but that we keep going.

Emily Curtis

University of Montana MSW Student

Unlearning to Learn: Becoming a Student of the World

At 22, I set out to study social work to help people, but quickly realized that to truly serve others, I first had to unlearn what I thought I knew; my international experiences as an MSW student opened my eyes to the profound role of culture, experience, and humility in social work.

My international work began with a study abroad in Berlin, Germany, where I focused on refugee resettlement policy work. I attended meetings with European Union representatives, participated in a Q&A with Mr. Tobias Winkler, a German Member of the Bundestag, and even had the opportunity to shake hands and speak with Julia Klöckner, the President of the German Bundestag.

I met with German social workers, listened to refugees’ firsthand stories, and visited two refugee camps, gaining a glimpse into the complexity of life for people from around the world. I was particularly struck by the rectifying mindset of the German population, committed to doing right after WWII.

Within the camps, I witnessed extreme trauma, grief, and uncertainty: single mothers holding their babies while waiting for an interpreter to navigate paperwork, men standing near playgrounds longing to rejoin a peaceful society outside of a camp, and children being taught words in a language they had never heard before. Yet I also saw the utmost care, organization, and passion for assisting those in need. Amid immense differences, I realized there is one universal culture, one language, one model, that brings us all together, and that is love.

After spending the remainder of the summer abroad, I came back to the USA and secured a six-month practicum in New Zealand at a nurse-led clinic providing cervical health services to Māori and Pasifika women. In a completely different setting, I was again confronted with the richness and diversity between cultures. My role as a health promoter allows me to attend community events, giving me opportunities to speak with women from all backgrounds. I have learned extensively about cervical health, New Zealand healthcare, Māori culture, colonization, and how systemic inequalities continue to shape Indigenous communities. Working alongside Māori practitioners and community members has reinforced the importance of cultural humility and accountability. I am continually impressed by New Zealand’s efforts to reintegrate Māori culture into the country’s overarching framework post-colonization. Additionally, my co-workers come from diverse backgrounds, including China, South Africa, Australia, and both Māori and Pākehā communities. Hearing their stories, upbringing, and ways of life has been profoundly impactful for me and the women we serve.

These placements challenged me to adapt my skills across cultural contexts, question Western-centered approaches, and embrace learning as a way of life. International social work is about mutual exchange, and these experiences affirmed my desire to continue pursuing global efforts toward social justice. Now at 25, I carry with me the lessons from Germany and New Zealand: to listen first, to remain humble, and to approach all communities with respect, curiosity, and with a lifelong commitment to being a student of the world.

Member Voices

Member Voices is an initiative that gives social workers across Montana a platform to share their stories and social work experiences.

Are you a Montana Social Worker or Social Work student interested in being featured as a Member Voice? Click Here to learn more!

Melissa D. Reyna

University of Montana ﻿MSW Student

Sustaining Ourselves Through Connection: Lessons from a Practicum Year

Allie Jellison

University of Montana MSW Student

What Practice Teaches Us ﻿When Confidence Wavers

Trisha Thompson-Jennings

University of Montana BSW Student

There's No Timeline for Growth

Emily Curtis

University of Montana MSW Student

Unlearning to Learn: ﻿Becoming a Student of the World

University of Montana MSW Student

What Practice Teaches Us When Confidence Wavers

Unlearning to Learn: Becoming a Student of the World