Everyone’s a Social Worker—Just Add a Packet of Rice and a Selfie

Social work isn’t about charity—it’s about change. And real change doesn’t come with a filter or a likes counter.

Bhat Shaheen

In a world where social media validation counts more than professional credentials, the term “social worker” has undergone a stunning transformation. Once associated with rigorous academic training, ethical standards, and community-based interventions, it now requires nothing more than a smartphone, a packet of rice, and a burning desire to go viral.
Welcome to the age of Insta-charity, where anyone who organizes a winter clothing drive or hands out biryani at a roadside camp automatically graduates to the esteemed rank of “social worker.” No Master’s degree? No fieldwork? No understanding of social structures or psychological theory? No problem! All you need is a big heart, a flashy Instagram reel, and maybe a trending hashtag like #ServingHumanity.

The Real Social Work: Not Just Smiles and Selfies
In reality, the profession of social work, especially for those pursuing a Master of Social Work (MSW), is far more demanding, complex, and underappreciated than the social media version suggests. It’s not about photo-ops with the poor; it’s about deep, consistent engagement with vulnerable populations—working in hospitals, mental health centres, child protection services, correctional institutions, rehabilitation centres, and community development programs.
Professionally trained social workers are taught to navigate the intersections of policy, psychology, and ethics. They must understand systems theory, counselling methodologies, human rights frameworks, and crisis intervention strategies. Unlike the rice-bag philanthropists, they don’t disappear once the media crew packs up. Yet, thanks to the viral wave of feel-good posts, the profession has become a free-for-all. Everyone wants the badge of honour, but few want the burden of responsibility.

MSW Students Speak: “We Studied This in 1998. It’s Still in the Syllabus.”
Adding insult to injury is the state of the actual MSW education in places like the University of Kashmir. Current students voice growing frustration over the outdated syllabus that seems stuck in a time capsule. “We’re learning models of community organization that don’t even account for the internet,” one student remarked dryly. Another added, “We’re still being taught about NGOs using examples from the 1990s. Meanwhile, NGOs now operate like corporate entities with branding teams and HR departments.” The lack of curriculum revision not only disengages students but also leaves them underprepared for the modern realities of the profession. Where are the courses on trauma-informed care? Where’s the content on gender and LGBTQ+ inclusivity, digital advocacy, cyberbullying, or the mental health impacts of climate change?
Apparently, while the rest of the world updates, upgrades, and innovates, some departments believe in academic nostalgia. After all, why fix something that’s only 25 years old?

Fieldwork or Free Labour?
Another sore point among students is fieldwork—the backbone of MSW training. While it’s supposed to be a guided practical experience with supervision and mentorship, many students report that they’re treated more like unpaid staff than trainees. “We’re sent to organizations that barely have anything for us to do. Some use us for clerical work, while others treat us like personal assistants,” one student confessed. So not only do MSW students battle outdated theory in classrooms, but they’re also sent into the field with little guidance, unclear learning objectives, and the growing sense that their role in the system is more decorative than developmental.

Meanwhile, Pseudo-Social Workers Rule the Spotlight
While the actual MSW students juggle theory, fieldwork, and administrative hurdles, their untrained counterparts bask in glory. Influencers with no background in social sciences win awards, get featured in magazines, and receive government grants—all for doing what should ideally be volunteer work, not a career.
“Social service” has become a buzzword for resume polishing and election manifestos. Politicians love to identify as grassroots champions during campaigns. Celebrities launch foundations in their name and do annual charity drives between film promotions. And then there’s the ever-growing army of WhatsApp group leaders who organize drives and self-confer noble titles like “Humanitarian Warrior” or “Youth Icon.”

Is Professionalism Overrated in India?
Perhaps the deeper issue is India’s love-hate relationship with professionalism. We want doctors but don’t want to pay consultation fees. We want engineers but think jugaad is a better fix. And when it comes to social work, we respect the one who looks the part, not the one who understands the part.
Meanwhile, MSW graduates often find themselves underemployed or misemployed. Many are forced into low-paying roles in NGOs that survive on unpredictable donor funding. Others enter academia or switch careers entirely, often burnt out from the disconnect between what they were taught and what they face on the ground.

So, What Now?
The way forward isn’t about gatekeeping compassion—it’s about safeguarding a profession. Here’s a radical idea: if someone wants to call themselves a social worker, they should have at least some training in social work. Just like we don’t call every first-aid volunteer a doctor, we shouldn’t call every generous soul a social worker.
And for universities like the University of Kashmir, it’s high time they treat the MSW program like a living organism, not a relic. Update the syllabus. Include modern challenges. Provide real fieldwork opportunities. Equip students for actual service, not just symbolic lectures.
Because the next time disaster strikes or communities crumble, it won’t be the selfie-champions stepping in—it’ll be the underpaid, undertrained, and overworked social workers doing the real work. They deserve more than just a footnote in the age of pseudo-service.

Final Thought:
Social work isn’t about charity—it’s about change. And real change doesn’t come with a filter or a likes counter.
(The author is ex-Corporator Rajbagh)