Lessons I’ve Learned as an Early Interventionist

Hint — they’re more relatable than you’d think.

The time has come for me to quit my job, again. I’ve been working as an Early Interventionist for children ages 0-3, and though I am indeed moving on from it, it has taught me many valuable lessons about people and relationships that I want to memorialize in written form.

As an early interventionist, I have clients between the ages of 0 and 3 who have been determined at-risk for challenges or developmental delays. I have had kids who were born prematurely or were substance-exposed in utero; ones who have speech or gross-motor delays or who are in foster care; one who has Down syndrome, and some who will (likely) go on to get a diagnosis of Autism. In other words, I’ve been working with kids who have all kinds of different developmental trajectories and needs, who come from varied cultural and familial backgrounds, with varying levels of parental support or knowledge of child development. Every week, I go in-person to clients’ homes and work with each child on their milestones and unique goals.

It’s been an incredibly interesting, often rewarding, and occasionally very challenging job. In addition to the typical age range at which a baby learns object permanence and is able to retrieve a toy hidden under a towel (7-9 months) and how to interact with a speech-delayed child to best promote language, I have learned a lot from my time as an Early Interventionist.

I’ve narrowed it down to a few main lessons, which to me seem somewhat universal when it comes to working with people, or having any kind of relationship, for that matter.

1. Offer the gift of being nonjudgmental

This lesson is in regard to reserving as much judgment as possible when meeting and working with people, and continuing to keep it at bay.

The act of being nonjudgmental is one of the most powerful, potentially transformative gifts one can offer to another.

Everyone has a story that I know very, very little about. I’ve done my absolute best while working with parents to maintain an attitude not of neutrality but of total acceptance and non-judgment—including with the ones who let their toddlers watch way (way) too much TV, or who cancel on me last-minute, semi-regularly. Everyone is just a person—a person who makes mistakes, (presumably) tries their best, and doesn’t need anyone else’s judgment of their choices, especially from a mental health professional.

I’ve noticed that offering a nonjudgmental attitude helps people feel like they can open up—and that’s when we can actually do some great work together. Listening with acceptance and without judgment does absolute wonders for the potential of someone’s ability to change.

One of my clients lived in a messy home at which I occasionally batted away cockroaches—they soon became one of my favorite families to visit. This mom had a lot on her plate—she needed support, not judgment. If I hadn’t quickly figured out how to let go of any judgment that arose, I would have missed out on a valuable, genuine connection—and connection, really, is often the primary mechanism for progress.

2. Don’t take anything other people do personally.

This lesson I had to learn over and over—especially when I felt disrespected, or worked with families who were standoffish or stood me up at their session time. Despite any annoyance or reactivity I experienced, I kept telling myself:

It isn’t personal.

Let me say it again: What other people do isn’t personal—even if it feels like it.

Of course, there’s always a chance that what other people are doing to you—in any of your relationships, professional or otherwise—is personal. But assuming that what people do or say is personal to you is a fast track to feeling resentful, bitter, and victimized. Don’t do it.

Adopting this perspective in my job has been difficult, at times. It is, by nature, a very personal job: I’m working directly in families’ homes, with children who have been labeled “at-risk”, which can feel scary and vulnerable for parents. It’s hard to get less personal.

Still—it’s not my business to take anything personally. The families I work with are not my own family, nor do I have the full picture of who they are or what their story is. Whatever fear, frustration, rudeness, or lack of friendliness I receive from parents is not about me. 99% of the time, whatever they are projecting onto me has nothing to do with me. I’m just there to do my job.

All I can do is roll with what happens, set professional boundaries when necessary, communicate expectations to parents, and keep on moving. Not taking anything personally has allowed me to keep showing up for my clients and working to support what they need, as well as to keep me mentally relaxed and good at my work.

I will 100% keep this lesson in mind as I move forward, in my professional and interpersonal life: It isn’t personal.

3. Embody confidence and steadiness

This lesson came with some time—I’m still green to working in the field of mental health, and although this job is different from the kind of therapist I will eventually be licensed as, the nature of the work overlaps quite a bit.

Here’s what I’ve learned: especially when other people are expecting you to fill the role of ‘professional’ (or ‘supportive friend’ or ‘caregiver’), you must increase your capacity for confidence and steadiness. You must show up confidently and steadily, even if inside you’re shaking in your green little boots. It’s your responsibility to do your best to help others feel comfortable, and nothing does that job quite like steadiness and confidence.

There is, of course, no need to lie about being confident—in fact, being able to admit when you’re wrong or don’t know something can also be helpful for building an honest rapport. The lesson is to learn to embody a confident, gentle authority so that other people feel calm in your presence.

If you are genuinely calm, settled, and confident, even the most nervous or apprehensive person can sense it and begin to relax and open up (hopefully). Allowing other people to be exactly as they are while simultaneously conveying a sense of “hey, everything’s ok right now” is perhaps the most therapeutic aspect of therapy.

Learning to maintain an aura of steadiness will undoubtedly benefit other areas of life, as well: If you are able to embody a healthy confidence, you are bound to do better at work, school, and in your personal relationships.

Be confident. Be steady and calm. If you don’t know how to do that, yet—fake it until you make it, with humility.

4. Be able to let go of your idea of how things “should” go and respond to the moment in front of you.

This last one is possibly my eternal life lesson: to let go of my idea of how things ‘should’ be going and respond to what is actually happening.

This has been absolutely critical while working with babies and toddlers, who don’t care at all about my agenda. They aren’t going to perform for me, or follow a schedule, or adhere to my plan for what I’m trying to get done that day. Being with children, in general, is an excellent way to practice the above: you have to be able to adapt to the present moment and respond to what is happening now, regardless of whether things are going to plan or are how you expected.

Life, generally, is like this, too: you can hope and plan for what you want to have happen, but reality is this moment right here, which rarely bothers itself with your preferences.

While preparing to enter the mental health field as a therapist, I know that removing my mental expectations of what my clients should be doing or saying is essential for actually supporting them. I’d wager to say that this approach is true for most relationships, as well: let go of who you wish the other person was, and respond to who they actually are, right now.

What I have learned from working as an Early Interventionist is a set of life lessons I know will apply in my future.

Offer the gift of nonjudgmental acceptance.

Don’t take things personally, because they rarely are.

Be confident and be steady.

Let go of how you think things should be, and respond to what is here, now.

I hope some of these were useful—

All my best,

Maggie