I once had to free a pigeon from my window wiper on the streets of London.

I’m not sure what made the feathered fiend attempt to land on the rear window of an aging Seat Ibiza in the first place, but the only spot it could find to balance on was the rear wiper blade.

Graciously then, I turned the wiper on, not knowing that this pigeon had managed to get its clawed toes stuck in the wiper itself. The result was a squawking, flapping bird, swinging desperately from side-to-side, being dragged along by the wiper.

There have been many times in youth work where I have felt just like that desperate bird, being dragged to-and-fro, flapping widely, just trying to keep up, and waiting for somebody to save me.

Youth work, like anything else, comes with the pesky Dunning-Kruger thing: you don’t know what you don’t know. The more I learn and experience, the more I realise just how much I haven’t learned or experienced. Not only do I not know everything, but I’m coming to understand that I’ll never know everything!

However, this is not always clear – to us, or to those we work with.

We often feel like (or made to feel like) we are supposed to know everything about young people, youth culture, and youth work – not to mention child psychology, cognitive development, event management, project growth, mediation, conflict resolution, social media, logo design, safeguarding, budgets, how-to-run-a-game-for-300-kids-with-nothing-but-a-shoelace! … etc.

Is this possible, and – even if it is – Is it healthy?

A missing convention

In most care-related careers there is a professional assumption that the person in post will not be an expert across their entire field. A doctor, for instance, will train for years but will never have a full encyclopaedic knowledge of, or practice experience with, the entire human body or psyche.

Reaching out for help in these instances is seen as professional practice. This is an expectation not a concession. In fact, if a doctor does not refer to a specialist, or reach out to a consultant, then they are creating a risk that the patient might not receive the best possible care.

Doctors call specialists, assign treatments, recommend support groups, draw in pharmacists, nurses, and healthcare groups. There is an expectation that patient care be shared among a team – not dominated by a single individual.

In youth work, however, the worker is often the lone-ranger, superhero, jack-of-all-trades. There can be external expectations from churches that the youth worker will necessarily know all about young people and do all the youth work. Then there are internal expectations from the youth worker that says, ‘I’m supposed to know all and do all.’

Not only is this unhealthy for the church and a recipe for burnout for the youth worker, but it is likely to be denying the young people themselves the best possible support and care.

Youth work (like a lot of ministry) is missing an expectation or convention that is found in many other places. We’re not meant to know all and do all; we’re meant to facilitate a team to help young people have the best possible chance to grow as a healthy follower of Jesus.

It’s not only bad practice to keep everything to ourselves, but in terms of ‘seeking the best’ for young people, it’s actually quite selfish.

The power of specialisation

Thinking back to doctors, they of course specialise. There are psychologists, anaesthetists, paediatricians, cardiologists, etc. and by working together they are able to offer deep expertise in specific areas for particular patients.

What about us? Youth workers simply cannot understand everything needed to bring all young people the best discipleship journeys by themselves, so what can we do instead?

First, know the special areas of interest and personalities in your church and network. This allows you to connect young people up with others in a healthy and specific ways. Facilitate the wider body to bear upon the walks of young people.

Second, utilize resources that you don’t do well. Not every church needs a youth club, especially if there’s a good one around the corner that you can plug into. Not every youth worker needs to run a camp, or write all the resources for every meeting, or develop their own mission trips, or do all the school’s work. Develop links with other youth workers locally and resource groups nationally and design a project calendar using those partnerships. We need to be less clingy, less grabby, and frankly less tribal in our approaches.

Third, be a specialist. What is it that you’re good at or are well resourced to do? Dig deeper into that. Not every youth worker needs to reach every young person, so look for local, untapped needs, and match them with what you could resource, and specialise in those areas.

Forth, say ‘I don’t know how’ more often. Help the culture around you understand that you’re not a one-stop fix to all things youth work. This has the knock-on effect of helping us recalibrate where to spend our time, how to focus, and where to seek training.

Keep a balance

This idea of specialisation is not a ready-made excuse to neglect needed ministry that we’re not skilled at (or enjoy), and it’s not a reason to bypass training.

We should always work with those that God has laid before us, even if that takes us out of our comfort zones. We need to keep a balance between needs and skills. This is not an easy balance to strike, but when you begin from the place of ‘I don’t know all and can’t do all’ then it becomes a much more honest and pragmatic issue to explore.

You’re not supposed to know everything, and you’re not supposed to do everything. So, what has God called you to do, locally, in your area, with your young people, using the resources available to you? Start there.

Photo by Tim Gouw on Unsplash