Three-in-One
Shortly after my retirement as a congregational rabbi, I became a CASA Advocate. I chose this commitment to fulfill my desire to volunteer in a meaningful activity that would use my skills and offer me opportunities to learn. My rabbinic work had included sizeable amounts of pastoral counselling, teaching, and organizational development. I thought some of that experience could translate well into CASA advocacy, even though the settings would be very different.
CASA volunteering has checked all those boxes. One surprising facet of CASA advocacy has been how varied the opportunities for learning are, and how interesting much of that learning has been. For example: the ways in which the legal system addresses the needs of children in foster care as well as their biological parents and their guardians, and the many ways in which the various social service and mental health agencies address (or fail to address) those needs. I have learned about the nature of childhood trauma as a significant factor both in the development of personality and in the ability of an individual to thrive in adulthood.
Let me illustrate by describing my first case (the details of which I will disguise for reasons of confidentiality). That case was really three cases in one. After explaining that I would prefer my first case to be a young child, even a baby, I was informed that I had been assigned to three brothers, ages 11, 14, and 17! In no universe were any of those boys anything like babies or even young children. First lesson, as Professor Mick Jagger has taught: “you can’t always get what you want.”
I learned early that there is no “cookie cutter” solution, no “one size fits all” that could be applied to all three siblings. Not only do the details matter, they are defining. Though the brothers shared the same biological parents and cultural background, each had a distinctive personality and a unique set of challenges, strengths, and outlooks on their future.
It took several visits before the middle brother (I’ll call him CD) would look me in the eye, open up, and speak about the things weighing on his mind. Before that, I would spend the bulk of my visits with him playing competitive games such Chinese checkers, while slipping in a hopefully unthreatening question from time to time. When CD did open up, we had some deep conversations about a range of topics, some related to personal concerns, others more theoretical, even philosophical. Another lesson: some children who resist engaging in conversation are protecting deep and profound thoughts and articulate ways to express them. If you earn their trust and are invited into this fortress, it can be profoundly humbling.
‘Feisty’ is a word that I would apply to CD. It is a quality that has served him well at times and not well at others. It empowered his resistance to the abusive environment in the home of his biological parents. However, often and sadly, it has shown up as a persistent mistrust of kind and supportive adults who would like to help him climb out of the behavioral ruts in which he tends to sink, ruts which include persistent use of mind-altering substances, failure to pursue credentials which could enable his economic self-sufficiency, and the allure of unhealthy personal relationships. Even though CD has graduated from his teenage years, he still struggles to emerge from such ruts.
The eldest brother (I’ll call him AB) has a more trusting disposition toward adults but has great difficulty in signaling a need for help and support before he hits the proverbial bottom. While away at college, AB ignored the attempts at outreach by his Bridges Coach even though he was struggling to keep up with both his course work and a part-time job. Nor did he share his academic difficulties with any of his professors until after he had flunked out. These adults care and want to help AB in channeling his talent and personable nature into a viable plan for his future, but he struggles to accept the help.
CD and AB provide studies in how gripping the effects of trauma can be. The isolation and mistrust it engenders can be extremely hard to shake off.
I watched the youngest brother, EF, develop from being a middle school “little kid” into a high-achieving high schooler and now, a scholarship recipient who is thriving at college. He experiences the typical challenges of many college students, such as balancing the needs of personal health, academic achievement, and (ahem!) a relationship with a girlfriend. Although EF must face these challenges with much the same background of childhood trauma as his brothers, he has been far more ready to seek and accept the help of adults who eagerly wish for him to thrive during college and beyond.
Back in the early days of my home visits, EF was always easy to engage in conversation and, when we were in private conversation, would readily share his concerns with me. Typically, shortly before I would depart from these visits, I would say something like “EF, I enjoyed speaking with you and I look forward to my next visit.” And he would respond: “I also enjoyed speaking with you. I also look forward to your next visit.” That is, EF always had a high level of social grace and a capacity for empathy which I found endearing and, if not unique, then certainly unusual for a middle schooler.
For over seven years I have watched EF take advantage of many of the resources available to him as a child in foster care, including routine visits with a talk therapist who helped him process his many placement changes. Each change disrupted both EF and his guardians, and none proved a permanent solution. Yet, EF persisted in striving toward self-reliance while accepting help from his former CASA and other caring adults when needed.
In short, my first CASA case has included much learning and a wide emotional range, from the frustration of advocating for two brothers who continue to flounder, to the joyful example of a third sibling who, with the support of a caring team, shows every sign of heading towards a thriving future.
