Ubuntu

Affirming the dignity and personhood of each child who has been placed in the public foster care system is the next step in our country’s evolution. Finding new ways to embrace and care for our children and move forward with honesty and compassion is our tomorrow. Erasing the debilitating legacies of poverty, incarceration, joblessness, dismal educational outcomes, and homelessness is the first step.

We are a nation of communicators. But it seems that what we communicate about most often does not always lead to connection. Disconnection is the outcome. It has allowed us to step into our class, race, gender, and age roles and lead compartmentalized lives. The result: we have become a nation separated from each other and from the essence of our humanity. We have lost our individual and collective ubuntu.

I was first introduced to the concept of ubuntu in Desmond Tutu’s book, No Future Without Forgiveness. Ubuntu is a South African word from the Bantu language family. According to Tutu:

“Ubuntu is very difficult to render into a Western language. It speaks of the very essence of being human. When we want to give high praise to someone we say, “Yu, u nobuntu”; “Hey, so-and-so has ubuntu.” Then you are generous, you are hospitable, you are friendly and caring and compassionate. You share what you have. It is to say, “My humanity is caught up, is inextricably bound up in yours.” We belong in a bundle of life. We say, “A person is a person through other persons.” It is not, “I think therefore I am.” It says rather, “I am human because I belong. I participate, I share.” A person with ubuntu is open and available to others, affirming of others, does not feel threatened that others are able and good, for he or she has a proper self assurance that comes from knowing that he or she belongs in a greater whole and is diminished when others are humiliated or diminished, when others are tortured or oppressed, or treated as if they were less than who they are.

Harmony, friendliness, community are great goods. Social harmony is for us the summum bonum – the greatest good. Anything that subverts, that undermines this sought-after good, is to be avoided like the plague. Anger, resentment, lust for revenge, even success though aggressive competitiveness, are corrosive of this good. To forgive is not just to be altruistic. It is the best form of self-interest. What dehumanizes you inexorably dehumanizes me. It gives people resilience, enabling them to survive and emerge still human despite all efforts to dehumanize them.”

”My humanity is caught up, is inextricably bound up in yours.”

“A person is a person through other persons.”

“I am human because I belong.”

These three sentences show us how to honor one another in the best ways possible. They encourage us to replace the huge gap between children who experience foster care and their peers who have not with equal opportunity. They urge us to dedicate ourselves to erasing the enormous disparities between the rich and the poor and to dismantle all of the ways that we keep poverty and racism alive. They show us that when we eradicate the root causes of foster care and strengthen the lives of our most vulnerable children, families, and communities, we will be a people with ubuntu – a people living with the greatest good for all in our hearts and our minds.

Beyond It Takes a Village

Recently I read an article titled, “If It Takes a Village to Raise a Child, How Many Children Does It Take to Raise the Village?” That inspired me to think outside the box. Harry Wilson, author of the article, is the Associate Commissioner for the country’s Administration on Children, Youth, and Families. He encourages all elders to consider creating a new approach to strengthening our villages – one that involves inviting our children and youth into the conversation. Now that’s a win-win-win; for the village, its youth, and the responsible adults who guide them forward.

According to Wilson, “The National Research Council proclaimed recently that 75 percent of American youth are doing quite well, but a quarter of our young people are missing some or all of their protective factors and lack critical developmental assets. As a result, these young people are deemed seriously “at risk”. For these young people, at least, the “village” has not lived up to its commitment.”

This is certainly true for the thousands of youth who quietly “age out” of the public foster care system in this country. Every year when they turn 18, they launch out into the world alone without the resources, skills or connections they need to succeed. One day they are surrounded by an array of supports. The next day they blow out their birthday candles and find themselves with no support at all. Without any safety nets, many end up homeless, unemployed, incarcerated, prone to substance abuse, and stuck in a life of poverty and hopelessness.

The reality is that our children are voiceless and powerless. They do not vote. They count on responsible adults in their “villages” to advocate on their behalf. Some do. Most don’t. When I read Harry Wilson’s article suggesting that we invite our youth into the conversation I began asking, “Who is best qualified to teach us about what our young people are experiencing in foster care in America?” The answer was crystal clear: the children themselves. They can give us the inside perspective that will enable us to assess how healthy our “villages” are. They can help us articulate what is working and what we need to change. They can help us weave reality-based social responsibility into the fabric of our everyday lives.

We have successfully used this inclusive new village model in our sibling connection work. The results of inviting young people into the conversation and spending time listening ripples out into families and communities: social workers change their practice, foster/adoptive parents make sibling connection a priority in their families, and legislators and the public are beginning to understand the important role long connections play in a child’s well-being.

What we are learning is that our children and youth who experience foster care would appreciate additional opportunities to join with the elders in their villages – to forge meaningful relationships, to make sorely needed improvements, to humanize the foster care experience, to educate and inform their village elders about the realities they face every day, and to become valued members of their communities. It would behoove us to invite them in, listen to their stories, and partner with them. Imagine what rich learning will take place if we choose to collaborate with the very children we are seeking to serve.

Harry Wilson states, “When elders welcome young people, accept their fresh perspectives, and tap into their abundant energy, they create a much stronger village. In these enlightened communities young people are celebrated for their citizenship and see themselves as the collective hope for the future. At the end of the day the village and the child are indispensable to one another, are in tune with each other, and will share lifetimes of moving ahead together.” Let’s do it!

Put a Little Love in Your Heart

Yesterday New England experienced a late winter storm. While the weather outside was frightful, inside the Treehouse Community Center, a group of folks were cozy and warm.

We were celebrating birthdays, life, and each other at our monthly tea. Yesterday’s theme: Valentine’s Day. Attending Tea Time at Treehouse means coming down to the Community Center and being treated to delicious sweet and savory treats, lively conversation, and a good cup of your favorite tea. Tea pots, creamers and sugar bowls are lined up on trays next to an array of black, green, white, and herb teas.

Several of us were humming “Put a Little Love in Your Heart!” while placing a mouth watering fruit tart and chocolate mousse cake on their cake plates. “I hope when you decide kindness will be your guide” we sang as we put two-bite brownies on heart plates.

Since it was a “snow day”, the kids were home from school. They were in and out of the kitchen, asking how to say things in Spanish, grabbing a bite between practicing their guitar playing, and talking about whose birthdays would be celebrated in March.

The atmosphere at Tea Time is always warm and friendly. People browse the buffet, make a pot of their favorite tea, and pull up a chair. Folks of all races, ages, interests, and abilities gather to share the moment. Every month different people show up. Life events, news, and the weather determine the course of our conversation. Yesterday people were discussing the births of grandchildren and great grandchildren, how to play “Happy Birthday” on the guitar, the way to make a proper cup of British tea, and the presidential race.

One lovely young teen, who just received her first guitar, entertained us with a song she wrote. I know she felt our collective pride when she finished singing and put her guitar down. Looking back at her were family members, neighbors, and friends. We were clapping enthusiastically.

As Tea Time wound down, a group of teens and adults retired to the Library to watch Barack Obama’s “Yes We Can” video on YouTube. Some of the younger kids followed along to use the computers. One mom sat down and took out her needlepoint. We listened to good music, including someone’s cousin who sang a powerful rendition of an old love ballad. I laughed when his aunt said, “I had NO idea he had such a beautiful voice. He never even sings in the car!”

After a while, we headed back to the kitchen to clean up. Kids and adults grabbed brooms, washed dishes, and straightened up. As I was washing off some tables, I could hear one of the kids softly singing, “Put a little love in your heart baby, put a little love in your heart. And the world will be a better place. Thank you Jackie DeShannon!”

Life on Treehouse Circle

Why build an intergenerational neighborhood where families who are adopting children from foster care live with elders? At Treehouse we believe that when families raising children who have experienced foster care live together in an intergenerational village with high quality, stable housing and responsive community supports, it increases the likelihood that children will grow up with enduring family and community relationships that promote their health and well-being, as well as the health and well-being of all of the adults that surround them. A Treehouse parent described it so well:

“Here’s the BIG PICTURE VISION that I have:
I think our vision is … to create a village, a web of people who reach in to offer support and help. Not in a gushy way, but in an instinctively practical way, where we do what’s needed to make life work more easily for the whole. Having the basic assumption be that we are interdependent!

So much in our society is isolated, fragmented, too fast, impermanent; we’re expected to be strong and independent nuclear families, like that’s a natural thing. It’s totally unnatural, when you look at how humans evolved – in interdependent hunter/gatherer groups, banded together for survival and companionship. We’re meant to have all ranges of ages, we’re meant to have the youngest learn from the oldest, and for the oldest to feel renewed with the youngest, to pass down the experience.

I believe it’s the best way to create a wider “clan” and to help kids who’ve been ripped out of their birth context and who have had such a tough start. The analogy I see best is that they are like a piece of fabric that’s been ripped out of its original place in a tapestry – normally, adoptive parents have to simultaneously hold the children and try to weave them into their isolated section, using themselves and their personal network. At Treehouse, we can have parents concentrate on holding the children, while letting the larger community – where we all live and play and walk and see each other in organic contexts – weave a stronger and richer, more textured fabric to secure them in their new place. Many threads make a stronger bond than a few.”

Living and working in such a rich and diverse neighborhood is a remarkable experience. Building trust and relationships, thoughtfully establishing a flexible and responsive neighborhood – that takes time, for both children and adults. The biggest gift: that there are over 100 people living on Treehouse Circle, ranging in age from 1 – 85 years. We are not perfect. We are human. We are in process. That means we are all learning something valuable every day and along the way, lives are being enhanced. I felt it all day yesterday: watching kids and adults playing with hula hoops, folks cooking in the kitchen, people preparing for Saturday’s Bake Sale. Then I experienced it again last night. You should have seen the faces of the elders playing cards! First I heard their laughter. Then I saw their smiles…. People of all ages feeling connected, belonging, sharing their lives. What could be more valuable?

Sibling Reunion

Sibling Sundays is a remarkable year-round program that celebrates the sibling connection. Every month sisters and brothers who have been separated when placed in foster care come together to spend the day. At this time of year we go sledding, build snow forts, eat pizza, drink hot chocolate, decorate Valentine cookies, and create a treasure trove of shared childhood memories.

This past week, if you had been with us, you would have seen about 20 sisters and brothers gathered at tables sprinkling colorful decorations on homemade Valentine cookies. The kids were sitting with their sibling groups and counselors, smiles on their faces. Some had pink frosting on their lips.

In their midst sat a brother and a sister who had not seen each other for seven years. Their extended family of adoptive parents, counselors, and another sister were at the table decorating with them. Cookies were being passed back and forth, laughter flowed, and a big brother – little sister relationship was being woven back together. This was a reunion that made my heart sing…

The pain of their separation had a profound impact on this big brother: “That morning I left home and went to school. It was a regular day. I was in the first grade. After school a social worker picked me up and told me I wasn’t going home. My baby sister was in the car. The social worker drove us to a house and stopped the car. She told me to wait. She took my sister’s car seat out and carried her up to the front door of the house. That was the day my little sister disappeared from my life.”

This young man loves his little sister deeply. Over the past seven years he has frequently asked himself the question, “What if I didn’t let the social worker take her from the car?” He did not understand that he was powerless to do anything about his family’s situation. He was a 6 year old in the first grade. He had felt responsible for her well-being long before she was carried to her foster mother’s front door so in his mind, he had allowed her to disappear from his family.

One of his sisters stayed connected to their little sister. He heard through the grapevine that she had been adopted by a wonderful family. He saw some photographs. But he never got to see her or talk with her. He never got to eat breakfast with her, sit next to her in the car, watch TV or celebrate her birthday with her. First grade, second grade, third grade, fourth grade, fifth grade, sixth grade, seventh grade. He worried, felt guilty and waited.

On Sunday, when I quietly re-introduced them, she went up to him and gave him a hug. She did not fully understanding who he was. He knew that she did not remember him in the same way that he remembered her – that she did not remember their life together in the same way. He had heard that this was the first of many steps in their relationship building. He hugged her back, took a deep breath, and went on to spend the day with her. He spent time with her adoptive family, experiencing their kindness and love. He shared how nervous he had been that morning before they arrived.

At 4:00 PM, after a day of decorating cookies, sharing pizza, and horseback riding, his little sister began to understand their family situation more fully. Seated in the back seat of the car between her big sister and brother, she asked, “Why was I separated from my family?” The adults in the car began to formulate the most appropriate response. In the meantime, her big sister answered her question in a manner both simple and direct. The little sister listened, nodded, and leaned into her big brother. Then she asked when they were coming to Sibling Sundays again.

Safety, well-being, respectful collaboration, and connection. Common sense and humanity. Blessing the lives around us. We can transform the lives of 800,000 children by weaving appropriate safety nets over, under and around them. We can make it right. Imagine a country where colorful safety nets full of caring people, tremendous opportunities, and an abundance of resources are the norm. Imagine that!