Every May during Foster Care Awareness Month, we hear stories about the failures of the foster care system. We hear about abuse, instability, overcrowded systems, youth aging out without support, and children who fall through the cracks. Those stories matter because those realities exist.
As a Black man who spent seven years in foster care in New York City, I also believe we need to spend more time talking about what happens when the system works and young people receive the support, stability, and community they deserve. Too often, foster youth are discussed only through the lens of trauma. Rarely do people talk about the adults, mentors, and programs that help them build meaningful and successful lives.
I entered foster care at 14 years old, carrying anger and pain I didn’t yet know how to process. I always knew my mother loved me, but she was not equipped to provide the structure and support I needed at that stage in my life. Like many young Black boys growing up in difficult circumstances, I was acting out while trying to figure out who I was. What I remember most from that time was not feeling safe anywhere — until I entered foster care through the nonprofit organization JCCA.
For the first time, I felt seen as a person instead of a problem to be solved.
The adults around me knew my name. They invested in me. They challenged me to think beyond survival and believe I had a future worth building. That kind of support changes a young person. It changed me.
Today, at age 30, I work for the same organization that helped raise me. I serve as program coordinator for the JCCA’s Arches program under LEAP, mentoring foster youth and justice-involved young people across New York City.
Many of the youth I work with are Black and Latino boys who have spent much of their lives being misunderstood by systems that were supposed to help them. They are often labeled before they are listened to. That is why representation matters.
There is something powerful about a young person being able to look at someone who not only understands their experience, but who also looks like them and has lived through similar challenges. When I sit across from a teenager who feels angry or disconnected, I understand what that feels like because I was once that same young person.
Most days, this work looks simple from the outside. It looks like sitting around a dinner table with young people, helping someone apply for vocational programs, or checking whether they made it to school that day. Sometimes it means putting paperwork aside because a young person walks through the door needing someone to listen. Those moments matter more than people realize.
Young people in foster care often become experts at expecting disappointment. Many learn early in life not to trust adults because too many people have already left. When a young person finally believes somebody is going to stay, though, that can become a turning point.
I see the impact of that every day.
I have mentored youth who graduated high school and moved on to bigger dreams. I have former foster care youth who come back to tell me about major milestones in their lives, including one who recently let me know that he is about to become a father. I have watched others connect to employment, education, and stable housing. Those success stories deserve attention, too.
In New York, Black children continue to be disproportionately represented in the foster care system, while Black families often face barriers to accessing the resources needed to support young people before crises occur. At the same time, the state continues to face a shortage of foster homes. In 2023, New York had approximately 10,500 certified foster homes despite nearly 14,600 children needing placement.
The answer cannot simply be talking about what is broken. We also have to invest in what works.
Young people need stable housing, mental health support, educational opportunities, mentorship, and adults willing to remain in their lives long-term. They need spaces where they feel safe enough to be vulnerable and supported enough to grow.
I know the foster care system is not perfect. No system is. But I also know I would not be the man I am today without the people who stepped in and refused to let me believe my story was already over.
This Foster Care Awareness Month, I hope we make room for both truths at the same time: The system still has deep challenges, and young people can thrive when we support them consistently, compassionately, and without giving up on them.