From Isolation to Connection: Rebuilding Professional Identity in Social Work
When I first started out as a social worker in New Zealand, there was no question about who I was or the profession I belonged to. I was employed specifically as a social worker, most of my colleagues were social workers, and our roles were clearly defined and understood. Later, when I moved to the UK and worked in child protection, it was the same story.
Coming to Australia was a very different experience. In child protection here (both statutory and non-government), the term case worker is used. While some case workers are social workers, the title itself is generic and that small change altered everything for me. It didn’t reflect my professional training, my ethics, or the values that had shaped me as a practitioner. Instead of feeling grounded in a profession, I felt like I was drifting in a system where identity was blurred, undervalued, and not well understood.
I eventually realised that these feelings of professional invisibility were fuelling my burnout.
In New Zealand and the UK, the system itself helped keep social work identity alive. Here, without that systemic recognition, I learned that holding on to identity becomes the responsibility of both individuals and the collective. You have to actively seek it out and nurture it.
And I soon found out I wasn’t the only one. Over the years, I’ve heard countless social workers describe the same thing: “I’ve studied, I know I’m a social worker but the system doesn’t recognise me as one, and I feel like I’m losing something.”
Why Professional Identity Matters
Professional identity isn’t just a job title. It’s the compass that keeps us connected to our ethics, values, and skills. When that compass is taken away, it leaves people feeling lost. I’ve seen how this plays out:
People feel invisible or undervalued, despite the depth of their training.
Stress increases, because when the system doesn’t affirm your professional identity, it’s harder to stay strong in tough decisions and hold firm to your values.
Turnover rises, as practitioners leave roles or the sector altogether because they feel disconnected from their profession (sometimes without even realising that’s what’s missing).
Isolation vs. Connection
When your identity is unclear, it’s easy to feel isolated. You start to wonder: Does what I bring really matter? Combined with burnout and vicarious trauma, these feelings can become overwhelming.
But I’ve also seen the opposite. When practitioners find spaces to connect — through supervision, peer groups, or professional networks — that sense of isolation begins to shift.
Earlier this year, I put the feelers out to create a peer group for social workers in private practice who also provide supervision (yes, very niche!). I was craving connection with likeminded peers, and it has been such a valuable way of keeping my identity alive.
Connection reminds me of who I am and what brought me to the work in the first place.
Rebuilding Identity Through Connection
If the system doesn’t give us professional identity, we have to create and nurture it ourselves. Some of the most powerful ways I’ve seen this happen include:
Supervision: A space to reconnect with values, ethics, and the bigger picture of why you do this work.
Peer networks and communities of practice: Whether online or in person, being with others who get it is powerful.
Naming it out loud: Even if your workplace calls you a case worker, you can still claim and use your professional identity as a social worker.
Staying connected to values and ethics: Holding onto what grounds you in practice.
Ongoing learning: Training and reflective spaces that remind you of your professional frameworks and anchor you in practice.
Why This Matters for Career Longevity
Connection isn’t just a “nice to have” it’s what sustains us. I see so often how quickly people can get swept up in the demands of the workforce, deprioritised their sense of connection, and suddenly feel like something essential has been lost.
When you know who you are, and you’re connected to others who share that journey, you’re better equipped to navigate stress, advocate for families, and keep going in tough environments. Professional identity doesn’t just keep you grounded; it keeps your career alive.
Final Reflections
For me, the biggest lesson has been this: social work identity is important to many of us. It can be easily lost, but it can also be rediscovered through connection to your own values and ethics, and through connection with others who remind you of who you are.