Transitional Youth and Natural Consequences

The Transition to Independence Process is a strengths-based approach for encouraging youth and young adults (ages 14-29) in their future planning process.

Many of the core elements of TIP model affirm the advocacy work that the Ohio chapter of Foster Care Alumni of America is involved in, and the workshops we currently provide. This includes:

• The cost-benefit analysis of investing in transitional youth 
• Young adult "discovery" vs. adult "recovery
  
• Identifying the supportive connections in their lives
• Encouraging peer support networks and peer mentors
• One-stop shopping for resources whenever possible
• Balancing the roles in decision-making (Taylor Model)

One side-effect of being a child welfare trainer myself is that, when I attend a training, I automatically evaluate what worked, what didn't, and how the format might have worked better.

I believe that an effective way of teaching the Transition to Independence Process (TIP) content would have been via a one-day workshop, with breakout sessions of small groups. Each small group could receive a case-study and figure out how to apply the TIP model. After this hands-on experience with implementation, small groups would report out to the group-at-large.

As it was, I left the training with two important questions left unanswered...

1.) What is the balance between maximizing the likelihood of success for a young person, and allowing youth to face the natural consequences of their choices?

As someone who works with foster care youth and young adults, many times, a young person will come to me in crisis mode.

They had an initial problem, which could have been easily remedied. But they didn't get the help and resources when they needed it, so the problem evolved into a snowball, rolling downhill and getting bigger and bigger. Often, by the time the young person comes to me to ask for help, all the dominoes have fallen and the problem has become a tangled mess.

If my state allowed foster care youth to re-enter foster care between the ages of 18-21, in every county, that would allow for the type of learning experiences that a young adult from an intact, supportive family can often count on from their parents.

But without a cohesive safety net, there is a limit to how far I am willing to allow a young person to fall. Standing back and letting the chips fall can compound the chaos to such a degree that it can be difficult to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

2.) The presenter mentioned "rationale" as an alternative to nagging young people. Telling young people the possible benefit or risk of their actions. However, he offered no concrete examples of what this looks like, in practice...  What does this look like? / sound like?

When I queried the speaker, asking both questions above, I didn't get a straight answer. So I'm left to puzzle this out by myself. Possibly a teachable moment might ensue, during which I could guide the young person toward self-evaluation of the impact of their decisions...

I'd really like to think about this further. Lately, my brain has been gnawing on two videos I posted recently:

• How Sitcoms (and Foster Care) Don't Teach Patient Problem-Solving
• The Marshmellow Test: How the Ability to Delay Gratification Impacts Long-Term Life Outcomes

I'm going to delve into a website that he mentioned during the workshop, and see if I can track down some more concrete information.

If you need something, please ask in a timely, honest manner

The following blog entry represents a personal struggle that I have had this week. I am trying to learn from this experience and move forward.

I am always leading workshops and telling other people about defining their boundaries -- but this week was a reminder that I need to maintain my boundaries, too!

I'm trying to formulate:
1. Where are my boundaries when it comes to working with other foster care alumni? Particularly when they are in a state of immediate crisis.

2. What is my role as a leader within my state chapter of Foster Care Alumni of America?

3. How can I better handle situations like the ones I faced this week in the future?

Here are my ideas so far, in terms of communicating my expectations and boundaries to other people...

1. If you need something from me, ask.

Say: "Lisa, I need this: _________"
Tell me what you need, straight-out and give me a chance to say yes or no.

Please don't try to manipulate me.

Don't hint at what you need, and wait for me to figure it out. That disrespects me and it disrespects you. Because you are underestimating both of us.

What the hints mean are that:
- You don't think you are worthy of having your needs met
- You don't think that I care about you

And until you ask straight out and wait for my response, you won't have the chance to find out that neither one of your fears are actually true.

2. When you ask, please tell me the whole truth.

Think of it like a doctor. If you lie to a doctor about your symptoms, that doctor will not be able to diagnose you correctly.

I am not a doctor. I cannot be your counselor. But I can and will move heaven and earth to get you connected with the right resources - something I CAN'T do if you are lying to me.

Please don't lie to me about what is really happening. Don't shade the truth about what is going on. I am guessing you are doing that because you think that I will judge you - and yes, again, you fear that I will reject you.

3. If you need something, please don't wait until it is catastrophe level.

Again, I know WHY you are probably doing this. So many of us grew up in chaos, that we just get used to living in crisis level. Once we age out of foster care, crisis still seems very familiar.

So, during the steps before a crisis, when things are just starting to go wrong, we might not think to ask for help then. No, we think we can handle it.

We can handle problem A and B and C... Which means that by the time we ask for help, we are handing the other person an enormous, HUGE amount of problems that have snowballed.

And the message to the other person (or in this case: to me) is "Fix this now. Fix this fast."

Trying to help would have been a lot easier if I'd been asked earlier.

4. When you ask, think about WHEN you are asking.

I can honestly say that: I am no longer addicted to crisis.

In my life, I have worked very hard to achieve stability and safety, not just for myself, but for my marriage and my family.

Do you really need to call me after midnight? Could you call during the daytime?

When you text me at 3 in the morning, are you really expecting that I am staying up all night?

5. I am your friend, but I am not your Savior

And again, this line has been blurred for me before.

When I first aged out of care, there was this guy, Jon. And he was the first person who really seemed to care about and take care of me. We were friends, we dated, we broke up, etc.

But at the time, I had somehow endowed Jon as being my Savior. The big brother I never had. The dad who didn't care for me. He was somehow supposed to fill that entire hole in my heart and make up for everything that I lacked.

And that is WAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY to much to ask from another person.

But even after we parted ways, I still kept that guy on a pedestal for years. No one else could measure up.

Finally, I realized that I never even really knew Jon. The real Jon was just a human, fallible, feet-of-clay guy with his own dreams, desires, faults and failings.

But the Jon I knew somehow existed in my mind to help me.

When I figured that out, I regretted the unfair demands that I had subconsciously placed on him.

None of us exists to SAVE everyone else.
We are not building a community of Rescuers.

Hopefully, we can build a community that supports one another, and encourages our members to each take individual responsibility to grow and heal and become more empowered.

And as for me as a leader, as a result of this painful learning experience week, I am seeking to partner with local mental health professionals, so that I can make timely referrals when faced with situations that are over my head in the future.