Photo credit: KevinCarden via Lightstock
Finding a flower in the crack
A story of shared humanity within the child welfare ecosystem
by Kay Rideout
One meeting — that’s all they agreed to in the beginning.
On Feb. 26, 2018, an email from Liza Cagua-Koo of the Emmanuel Gospel Center (EGC) pinged the inboxes of six individuals intertwined with the child welfare system in Greater Boston. A suburban fostering grandmother with the church-based initiative Home for Good. An urban bivocational pastor and social worker with the Massachusetts Adoption Resource Exchange (MARE). A leader from the New England Christian non-profit Fostering Hope. A certified counselor and foster parent.
The email extended an open-ended invitation.
“You are receiving this email because I or someone else on this list knows about your engagement in supporting & recruiting families doing foster care and/or adoption,” Cagua-Koo wrote. “I don’t have an agenda for this time – the goal is for you to connect….”
Recognizing the opportunity to build on shared connections and passions, the group agreed to meet in MARE’s Newton offices the following month.
Before this meeting, individuals in the group had experienced the weight of the child welfare system — each from a different vantage point.
As a kinship foster parent, Wendy Jacobi knew the difficulties facing children and families in the system and the lack of available resources. For 17 years, Jacobi and her husband have worked to build support systems encompassing neuropsychologists, developmental pediatricians, and childcare workers.
For years, Rev. Dr. Ricardo Franco recognized the need for cross-system collaboration between churches and child welfare workers but found that the timing was never quite right. Letters, emails, and intentional conversations led to few open doors.
“It really is invaluable. Just having a space where people feel comfortable, where they feel safe, where they truly feel like they can share their thoughts — even if they haven’t fully grappled with them.”
Never envisioning himself in the world of foster care, Jonathan Reid began his journey as a foster parent with negative assumptions surrounding both children in the system and their families. Through interactions and first-hand experiences with these families, Reid became passionate about helping to reframe churches’ perceptions of children and families within the child welfare system: a desire which has since led him to develop the Fostering Hope initiative.
Though individual, their experiences represent patterns of pain and complexity embedded in the child welfare system.
Like many complex systems, the child welfare system can often feel concrete: heavy, immovable, challenging to navigate, and often built on conflicting agendas. A system where families are both separated and supported — where turnover rates are high, emotional and professional burnouts are frequent, and change is glacial.
But life, movement, and beauty are still at work in heavy, inflexible spaces. Despite the difficult realities in every system, there are moments when the concrete cracks long enough for a flower to take root in the gap.
On that day in 2018, eight individuals, connecting on shared hopes and experiences, discovered a crack in the concrete.
“I prayed for this and I (had) been waiting for this — more than pray … I yearned for this,” Franco said. “I longed for this in my heart from the very beginning, but I didn’t feel like it (had) any echo, any resonance with other people.”
One meeting turned into two, and two turned into a series of monthly meetings arranged over four years — interrupted by COVID-19 but not derailed.
The group’s structure was organic and relational: formed by Cagua-Koo and Franco’s intentional decisions to empower all the voices and individuals in the room. This context, set apart from the whirlwind of personal and professional responsibilities, cultivated honest discussions.
“(Systems language has) definitely made a big difference in (Fostering Hope’s) thinking and planning as an org. I’m regularly thinking about some of these simple baseline questions like, ‘OK, what’s an unintended consequence if we do this? Who is this going to affect that we wouldn’t want it to affect?’”
“It really is invaluable,” former Fostering Hope Programs Coordinator Ana Maria Tormes said. “Just having a space where people feel comfortable, where they feel safe, where they truly feel like they can share their thoughts — even if they haven’t fully grappled with them.”
More people entered into the conversation as members and guest speakers — individuals from different backgrounds, communities, roles, beliefs, and experiences — who could together better understand the system which affected their lives and directed their work.
A dozen individuals participate in this space today. Group members have come and gone as needed, introducing friends, co-workers, and supervisors along the way.
Years later, the fruit that has come from the group can be seen internally and through participating leaders’ efforts.
Connection has led to collaboration: both within the group and with those outside of it.
Group members have shared insights and resources at Vision New England’s forums that connect Christian leaders across the region interested in engaging the foster care space. They have successfully supported one another throughout the COVID-19 pandemic: working together and coaching one another as they transitioned from exclusively in-person events to virtual spaces that effectively engaged new families.
But while these collaborative, external accomplishments are significant, leaders in the group consistently point to the internal, personal and relational fruit that has formed within and between them.
Intellectually, group members were exposed to systems models that help articulate and inform the ecosystem in which they operate. Discussions surrounding differences between urban and suburban strategies, characteristics that define supportive foster families, and best practices for church–agency collaborations have given new language and ways of thinking to those involved in the conversations. Group members are not just sharing what they already know but revealing new insights and points of leverage in their discussions with one another.
“I can read books about strategies and how to support families, how to recruit families — there are tons of materials … but this has been my best social work education in terms of bringing the humanity of the field in front of me.”
“(Systems language has) definitely made a big difference in (Fostering Hope’s) thinking and planning as an org.,” Reid said. “I’m regularly thinking about some of these simple baseline questions like, ‘OK, what’s an unintended consequence if we do this? Who is this going to affect that we wouldn’t want it to affect?’”
The intellectual curiosity this learning requires has served the group well as individuals engage their own stereotypes, preconceived narratives, and misplaced assumptions. As people from different spaces in the child welfare system and the broader systems serving urban families gathered in one room, shared stories and experiences quickly began to challenge individual perspectives.
For Jacobi, one of the most significant moments of learning took place when a family case worker was invited to share the complexity and weight of her role with members of the group. “She talked about her trauma — that she had been traumatized [by her job] had never occurred to me … I so wanted to weep for this woman,” Jacobi said. “That to me was the moment that made me say, ‘I understand it now.’”
In conversation with eight other group members, each voiced this same perspective–shift — this expansion of worldview that has added new layers of complexity to their perceptions surrounding other individuals, churches, organizations, institutions and families interacting in the child welfare ecosystem.
“I learned so quickly from the insights (and) from these other folks sharing their perspective,” Reid said. “Adding insights and ideas and concepts and perspectives that I would have not ever known or thought of had I not been at a table with them and in a space where we could kind of quietly listen and learn from each other.”
Cagua-Koo noted that the work of listening to one another and “humanizing” individuals within the group has been a critical outcome.
Franco echoed this idea. “The learning for me has been the (human) part — the humanity of all the players,” Franco said. “Because you know what? I can read books about strategies and how to support families, how to recruit families — there are tons of materials … but this has been my best social work education in terms of bringing the humanity of the field in front of me.”
Shared humanity has brought more than a perspective shift: it has brought healing, compassion, and mutual trust.
“Regardless of what progress looks like to each person, nothing will move forward if we cannot maintain each other’s humanity and change the way in which we view systems and our place in them.”
This shared humanity has the potential to become a foundation from which leaders in the system can work together to reimagine better ways to support vulnerable families and their children.
“Descriptors of the child welfare system in the urban context vary from ‘needed’ to ‘broken’ to straight up ‘demonic’ — and what word you use largely depends on your felt experience with its institutions and your vantage point in a society with a history of separating children from their families and over-policing families of color. Some activists would like to see the child welfare system radically overhauled, even abolished,” Cagua-Koo said. “But regardless of what progress looks like to each person, nothing will move forward if we cannot maintain each other’s humanity and change the way in which we view systems and our place in them.”
Like Cagua-Koo, members of the group have come to recognize that the child welfare system is not simply a machine to be overhauled, endured, or defended but that it is also a broad web of human beings working to support children and their families — human beings who are all subject to the limits of their organizational systems and institutional worldviews.
And while each group member lives within these limits, they have found that — together — limits of understanding, worldview, and best approach can be challenged.
Nevertheless, entering a deeply relational space that brings tangled, messy narratives to the forefront requires humility, patience, and commitment. It demands both the desire and the capacity to make space for critical conversations amid organizational priorities, family routines, external meetings, and overflowing schedules. It involves a willingness to journey into unknown areas and follow the path as it unfolds.
“Certain people stick, but not everybody stays,” Cagua-Koo said. “The more that you have a singular focus on quick and ‘effective’ action, probably the harder it is for you to be in the group because of the way the group has had to flow.”
The work needed within these complex systems is not simple or easy, but it is possible.
A few years into the process, this group is still just beginning — a crack, if you will, in the concrete. But out of this crack, a flower of collective learning, mourning, celebration, humanity, and possibility is beginning to grow.
Kay Rideout
About the Author
Kay Rideout served as a Summer 2022 Communications and Research Assistant at EGC. She is currently working towards a B.A. in Multimedia Journalism at Taylor University in Indiana and plans to graduate in 2024. Kay is passionate about in-depth narratives (specifically those coming from lesser-seen spaces), storytelling and the value of an individual’s lived experience. While still in the process of discerning post-graduation plans, she knows narratives will play a key role in whichever field she enters! Having grown up both overseas and in the Greater Boston area, she enjoys Boston’s unique culture and culinary experiences (Mike’s Pastry topping the list!).
