ASYE stands for Assessed and Supported Year in Employment. You will notice that “assessed” comes first.
I wrote a whole novel about this year, so I have had time to think about what I would tell somebody starting it. Here it is, in the order you will need it.
Month one: you know nothing
This is correct. You are supposed to know nothing. Anybody who expects otherwise has forgotten their own first month, and you may remind them.
Your job in month one is to learn where things are, what people are called, and who to ask. Carry a notebook. Write down the door code.
Month two: the caseload
You have been promised a protected caseload. It will be protected in the way that a sandcastle is protected.
When a case too many lands on you, say so, in supervision, out loud, and ask for it to be written down. “I am at capacity” is something you are allowed to say. You are less likely to be thanked for coping quietly than you think.
Month three: the first one that stays with you
There will be a child you think about in the bath.
That is not a boundary problem. It is what happens when you are paying attention. It becomes a problem when there are nine of them and you have stopped having baths.
Tell your supervisor which one it is. They will know already.
Month four: the portfolio
Nobody likes the portfolio. It asks you to reflect, in writing, to a word count, on a day you have not yet recovered from.
Do it a little at a time. Write the reflection the same week, badly, and tidy it later. A rough account written on Thursday is worth more than a polished one reconstructed in June from your diary and your guilt.
Month six: the dip
Around the middle of the year the newness wears off and the tiredness has not yet turned into stamina. Most people have a bad fortnight here. Some decide to leave during it.
If you can, take a week off in month six. Book it in month one, before you know you need it.
Month eight: court, probably
Read your own statement the night before, all of it, slowly. You wrote it weeks ago and you have written forty things since.
Answer the question you are asked. If you do not know, say you do not know. If you need a moment, say, “May I have a moment?” and have one. The barrister is doing their job. It is not about you, even when it is very much about you.
Afterwards, eat something. You will not want to.
Month ten: you are useful
You will realise one afternoon that somebody newer than you has asked you where something is, and you knew.
Be kind to them. It was you nine months ago and you remember who was.
Month twelve: signed off
There is a meeting. There is a form. Somebody senior says well done and means it, and you go back to your desk, and the phone is ringing.
It is a smaller moment than you expect. I have thought about why. I think it is because by then you have already been doing the job for a year, and the form is only the paperwork catching up.
Three things for the whole year
Have one person at work you can be honest with, and one person at home who does not want the details.
Keep something that is only yours: a choir, a run, an allotment, a very long book.
And ask for help before you need it badly, because by the time you need it badly you will have stopped being able to ask.
There is a free guide if your ASYE group wants something to talk about that is not anybody’s real caseload. There is also a page for new starters, with a poster.
Maisie x
Next in the notebook: To the teacher who noticed