Paterson — Robert Washington, who spent his youth in Paterson’s tough, drug-ridden neighborhoods, recalls the moment he got a glimpse into another world for the first time. This eye-opening experience occurred at the house of Jackie Ross, his social worker, marking the beginning of an enduring and extraordinary relationship.
It felt as though we came from completely different places,” stated Washington, now 44, recalling their meeting with Ross during his teenage years. “I spent my childhood at Holsman Street, which isn’t exactly the best neighborhood, but going to her place always seemed like a getaway.
The regular meals he shared at Ross’s house exposed him to an environment he wasn’t used to—a family with both parents working, educated at colleges, residing in one of the city’s most affluent areas on East 40th Street—and this provided him with new aspirations.
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Washington stated to the Paterson Press, “She used to say that there’s more to life than how you’re currently living your days.” Initially, he was skeptical about this notion since he hadn’t witnessed such an idea firsthand.
Ross, who is 78 years old, has recently released a memoir titled ”
Finding Hope
that explores her hometown from the perspective of a social worker and narrates the journey of several children, including Washington, who were impacted by her support.
It took two years to pen this book, which highlights how society frequently overlooks the needs of urban youth, the strong pull towards criminal activities they face, and the flawed judicial system they encounter subsequently.
Social work has grown increasingly focused on clinical aspects.
During her extensive fifty-year career, Ross worked not just in substance abuse clinics and programs aimed at helping troubled youth, but also within the public school system and with the housing authority. In the year 2000, she established her own non-profit organization named the Foundation of Hope, which, as she stated, was home to the city’s inaugural substance abuse program designed specifically for young individuals.
Inviting some of the young individuals she mentored into her home was just one of the unorthodox approaches Ross employed throughout her career as a social worker. Her relationships with certain “clients” appeared to evolve from professional ties to friendships, which contemporary social work professionals might advise against due to potential complications.
Sister Ruthann McGoldrick, from the Foundation of Hope, mentioned that the field of social work has grown increasingly “clinically focused” over time—possibly at the expense of the youth they serve. She noted, “Social workers find it challenging to express their human side.”
Ross, who is now semi-retired, no longer resides in the Eastside Park Historic District. Five years back, she and her spouse, Denis, moved into a compact apartment located within a repurposed factory situated centrally in town. Both of them find it challenging to let go of certain possessions. Her living area is brimming with so much art that there aren’t enough wall spaces for everything. Additionally, Ross has held onto several keepsakes from her time working as a social worker.
Keeping commitments made during turbulent teenage years
His collection features a letter dated 2013 from Nelson Espejo, who was just 16 at the time. The text appears blurred, suggesting that the letter has been read often.
Espejo was a high school drop out with a criminal background, a young person placed under Ross’s supervision after breaking probation rules and moving through various city programs without success. There was little faith at first because he doubted whether Ross—who came from one of the city’s most affluent areas and identified as an older white Jewish woman—could understand his experiences.
Did she even realize my struggles?” Espejo recalls pondering at first. “Or is she only doing this for approval?
However, as the days passed, Ross managed to connect with him. Unlike other shows that emphasized strictness, Ross’s openness persuaded him to drop his defenses. “She revealed her vulnerable side in a manner that nobody else has ever done — not even my biological mom,” stated Espejo.
At the bottom of the letter, Espejo makes several promises to Ross to make something of himself someday. Now 30, Espejo has fulfilled the promises that his younger self made, including getting a degree at Passaic County Community College. He now works a white-collar job in financial services.
I’m incredibly thankful that my younger self avoided becoming just another statistic—I truly accomplished something,” he stated. “I saw many friends and relatives in Paterson fall victim to street violence and drug overdoses—but she provided me with the means to see past all that.
Ross had conflicts with city officials, probation officers, and bosses.
Ross had never shied away from confronting authority with honesty. She frequently butted heads with municipal officials, parole officers, and sometimes even her superiors who disapproved of her hands-on approach.
In 2009,
she penned an editorial
In the New Jersey Herald, there was coverage regarding dramatically declining test scores at Eastside High School and Kennedy High School, casting doubt on the dedication of the instructors. Following this report, Ross became the focus of attention for local educators.
That didn’t go down smoothly,” Ross remarked with a playful smile. “Yet, I wasn’t bothered.
Having previously taught at School 4, she felt that underperforming public schools contributed to a system that churned out future offenders. Her view was that her position as a social worker involved addressing the issues frequently generated by these educational institutions and having faith in pupils who had been abandoned by their other educators.
That is according to Dana Holdman, who features in Ross’s memoir, as reported by Paterson Press.
Holdman, who got expelled from Eastside High School in the early 2000s, mentioned that she was labeled a “delinquent” but later found her way after joining the Ross’s Foundation of Hope program.
“Jackie spent time getting to know me and treated me like an individual rather than a troubled kid,” Holdman stated.
“She demonstrated care and kindness towards me and treated me as though I were one of her own kids — this had a significant effect on me since I lacked that,”Holdman mentioned additionally. He obtained his GED and currently holds a position at Bragg Funeral Home.
Ross’s 340-page memoir delves into themes of sorrow, recounting poignant tales of individuals whose paths she was unable to guide towards better outcomes. However, it also highlights those whom she successfully helped navigate onto more positive trajectories. Her approach involved employing unorthodox techniques such as openly expressing her love for them and offering physical affection.
“I have always believed in the power of personal connection, well before it gained acceptance and even when it wasn’t fashionable,” Ross penned.
The article initially appeared on NorthJersey.com.
A North Jersey-based social worker’s autobiography examines the impact of her career on those whose lives she touched.
