I’m Kayla, LCSW, suitcase always half-packed. I’ve worked travel social work jobs for three years now. Four states. Five contracts. Too many goodbyes. Still, I’d do it again. Here’s the real stuff—what worked, what stung, and what I wish someone told me.
If you’re at the dreaming stage and just want to know what a travel gig even looks like, skim this solid primer on travel social work jobs I wish I’d found sooner.
For anyone who wants the granular play-by-play, I also pulled together a deeper guide to travel social work gigs that fills in the cracks.
My first contract: big city, busy nights
Phoenix, 13 weeks, Emergency Department. Aya Healthcare placed me. Night shift, three 12s. Pay was about $2,350 a week (roughly $1,000 taxed; $1,350 stipends for housing and meals). I rented a small studio on Airbnb with a month discount.
Work? Fast and loud. I made safety plans at 2 a.m., found detox beds, called shelters, and set up bus vouchers. I ran with Epic. I used “FindHelp” to track resources and 211 for quick referrals. Epic’s chat saved me when doctors moved fast.
One night still sits with me. A mom with two kids needed shelter by morning. We got a DV bed after eight calls. The nurse hugged me while the printer jammed. We laughed, then I cried in the car. That’s ED life—heavy and bright at once.
Small town Montana: many hats, one snow shovel
Eastern Montana, critical access hospital, 13 weeks. Pay was lower—about $1,900 a week—but the stipend stretched far. I found a basement apartment on Furnished Finder. It came with a snow shovel and a very proud orange cat.
I did discharge planning, care conferences, and weekend hospice calls. Cerner this time, not Epic. I wore Yaktrax over my boots and learned to warm up my car like a local. I also learned I can be “the only social worker” and still breathe. Slow pace. Real faces. Those goodbye cookies from the med-surg nurses? Still think about them.
School year in Texas: long haul, deep roots
Nine-month school contract with Soliant. LMSW accepted. Caseload of 35. IEP meetings, crisis checks, parent calls. Pay sat around $1,700 a week with some benefits. Different rhythm. I used Frontline for IEPs and Google Meet for family check-ins.
I started a lunch group for shy fifth graders. We practiced what to say when your voice shakes. On the last day, one kid said, “Ms. K, I don’t shake now. I hum.” I hummed too. You know what? Slow work can still move fast in the heart.
Corrections in Ohio: reentry, real time
Maxim Staffing, 13 weeks in a medium-security facility. Safety training first. No phones inside. I created release plans, linked folks to MAT clinics, and set up ID appointments. I tracked beds through HMIS and called halfway houses over and over.
Pay was about $2,100 a week. It was steady work. Hard stories. Clear wins. A man I helped called the office two months later to say he hadn’t missed a dose or a day of work. I saved that voicemail.
Money talk, plain and simple
- Weekly rates I’ve seen: $1,600–$2,600, with most in the $1,900–$2,300 range
- Highest: big-city hospital ED or psych
- Lower: rural hospitals or schools, but cheaper living helps
- Agencies that worked for me: Aya Healthcare, Soliant, Maxim
- Extras I got: $300–$600 travel reimbursement, license fee refunds, and sometimes a small sign-on bonus
Ask about overtime, call pay, and canceled shift pay. Get it in writing. If it’s not in the contract, it’s a wish.
To sanity-check those numbers further, I keep an eye on the national travel social work salary dashboards that update weekly—handy for seeing how hot (or tepid) certain states are running right now.
To sanity-check those numbers, I cross-reference current travel social work rates posted on ValidTravel before I even start negotiating. For a nursing perspective, you can peek at my candid recap of trying LPN travel jobs to compare ranges.
Housing: cozy or chaos
I’ve used Airbnb monthly deals and Furnished Finder. I’ve also used Facebook groups, but watch for scams. Read reviews. Ask for a video tour. I bring my own sheets. It helps me settle fast.
Pro tip: check GSA per diem rates when you negotiate. If the stipend looks thin for the city, speak up. Agents can push the bill rate; sometimes they just need a nudge.
One side note about life off the clock: travel can get lonely fast, and plenty of us lean on quick-hit social apps to meet people in new zip codes. If you’re weighing whether a more risqué, Snapchat-style platform might help break the ice, I recently dug into this no-fluff SnapSext review that spells out the pros, cons, and safety tips so you can decide whether it’s worth downloading before your next assignment.
For travelers headed to South Carolina, you might also appreciate a boots-on-the-ground look at Spartanburg’s adult nightlife—AdultLook’s Spartanburg rundown can give you a quick sense of reputable venues, local etiquette, and red flags to watch for, helping you make smarter choices about where (and where not) to spend your precious off-shift hours.
Licenses and paperwork: boring but huge
Every state wants something new. Some want fingerprints. Some want notarized forms. Keep a folder with:
- ASWB scores
- Grad transcripts
- CEU log
- Vaccine records
- Two letters of reference
My fastest license came in 2 weeks. My slowest? 11 weeks. Build a buffer. Honestly, waiting can mess with your budget.
Tools that helped me not lose it
- Epic and Cerner (get your logins day one)
- FindHelp and 211 for resources
- A simple Caseload spreadsheet (I keep it on a USB drive)
- ID badge reel, pocket notebook, and those little sticky tabs
- Compression socks for 12s (my feet thank me)
- A “go kit”: granola, water, spare phone charger, spare pens
Incidentally, my dialysis tech roommate swears by her own system; she unpacked it all in this straight-shooting travel dialysis tech review.
The good, the blah, the hard
What I loved:
- Quick growth. You learn fast, or you learn faster.
- Fresh starts. New teams, new tricks, new slang.
- Pay that let me save and still see friends in new places.
What was hard:
- Goodbyes every 13 weeks. It stings.
- Being “the temp.” You prove yourself again and again.
- Housing stress. A nice place can eat your stipend.
What surprised me:
- Managers who’ll fight for you when you’re fair and clear.
- How much kindness lives in break rooms.
- How steady you can feel while moving a lot.
Some travelers crave even quicker patient encounters—think two-minute draws and keep-it-moving vibes—much like a travel phlebotomist’s everyday routine.
Who should try it?
If you:
- Like change and can set a clean boundary
- Can ask for help on day one and give help on day three
- Don’t mind packing the car like Tetris
Maybe hold off if you:
- Need the same team and routines to feel safe
- Hate paperwork or slow licensing
- Can’t do sudden goodbyes (it’s okay to want roots)
Not a social worker? A lot of this still applies to allied roles—I broke down the nuts and bolts for MAs in my travel medical assistant write-up.
My small bag of tips
- Keep a license tracker sheet with dates and fees
- Ask for a preceptor for the first week
- Tour housing on video before you pay
- Read the whole contract (start/stop times, holidays, floating, call pay)
- Take your breaks—set a phone timer if you must
- Save a month of costs, just in case a job starts late
Final word: my rating
Travel social work gave me grit, fresh skills, and a fuller heart. It also gave me tired eyes and a love for quiet coffee at 5 a.m. I’d call it 4.5 out of 5. Not perfect, but powerful. If you’re curious and a little brave, it can fit.
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