For me, permanency means more than just stability or finding a place to call home—it’s about family connection, long-term security, and creating a foundation for growth. But the way the system approaches permanency feels incomplete. There’s such a strong emphasis on reconnecting youth with their biological families, which, while meaningful, doesn’t always address the complex realities that many of us face. For some of us, permanency isn’t a family—it’s the foster system or the government itself acting as a lifelong parent. And, let’s be honest, that “parent” often fails us.
Many transitional age youth (TAY) in the foster system struggle with unresolved trauma, systemic barriers, and a lack of tailored support. It’s frustrating to see how the system prioritizes reconnecting youth with their families while ignoring the root causes of the issues we face—trauma, inadequate resources, and the rigid requirements that exclude the most vulnerable among us. For instance, the expectation that we must already have a job, be in school, or meet certain criteria just to access essential services is completely counterproductive. These policies might be well-intentioned, but they often do more harm than good.
One of the hardest realities to confront is how unresolved trauma perpetuates cycles of poverty, instability, and even early parenthood. I’ve seen firsthand how young parents in the foster system are often left without the support they need, and as a result, their children sometimes end up back in the system. This cycle is heartbreaking, and it’s clear that we need more targeted support for young parents if we’re ever going to break it.
When I became a mentor, I realized how critical trust and genuine relationships are. The youth we serve don’t need someone to enforce rules or act as part of the system—they need someone who truly gets them, someone who can relate to their struggles and help them work through their trauma. That’s what I tried to bring to the table as a lived expert. I wasn’t just offering advice; I was showing them what healing and growth could look like.
I’ll never forget one mentee in particular—a young man battling meth addiction and grappling with anger issues. I focused on building trust with him, sharing my own experiences, and teaching him practical tools like emotional regulation. It wasn’t about fixing him; it was about walking alongside him as he figured out his path.
But mentorship isn’t easy when the system itself gets in the way. I can’t count how many times bureaucratic rules created barriers to real connection. Simple things, like needing staff supervision for a walk around the block, made it hard to build trust. And don’t get me started on how the system reacts to crises—calling the police on a youth who runs away only deepens their mistrust and makes things worse. We need to do better than this.
Being a lived expert in this space is both a privilege and a challenge. I’ve seen how our perspectives are undervalued, how we’re often treated as if we’re still foster youth rather than professionals. But I know the value of what we bring. I’ve witnessed it in my work, like when I helped that young man envision a future where he could earn his GED, learn a trade, and build a life for himself. What’s frustrating is that many organizations fail to recognize or properly support this kind of work.
One of the biggest challenges I encountered was within the peer mentorship program itself. The program lacked transparency and structure, and the organization running it—Casilla Consulting Partners—simply wasn’t prepared to handle such a high-risk, complex project. This was called out by the numerous insurance companies that strongly advised the business to not take on this project, so much so they didn’t provide insurance coverage. The costs and realities of all the requirements of insurance actually made it impossible for this project to be profitable for CCP. Given that reality, CCP understandably has made it clear they will walk away after the million dollar contract over the next year finishes. Mentors like me were left to take on enormous responsibility without the necessary planning, resources, and leadership support to take over the company. It felt like we were being set up to fail. That is still the case for the current mentors.