Stability Changes Everything
Ten years ago today, I walked into a civil affairs office. A short time later, I walked out with the newest Goar.
The paperwork was finished. The real work was just beginning.
When our daughter first came home, fear didn't look like fear.
It looked like hoarding food. Biting. Throwing objects.
๐๐๐ก๐๐ฏ๐ข๐จ๐ซ ๐๐๐ง ๐๐ ๐ ๐ฏ๐ข๐ฌ๐ข๐๐ฅ๐ ๐ฌ๐ฒ๐ฆ๐ฉ๐ญ๐จ๐ฆ ๐จ๐ ๐๐ง ๐ข๐ง๐ฏ๐ข๐ฌ๐ข๐๐ฅ๐ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐จ๐ซ๐ฒ.
Instead of reacting to the behavior, we focused on creating safety.
Every morning, I'd put little ice cream-cone socks on her. I'd point to them and say, "After school, I'll pick you up, and we'll get ice cream."
Then I did exactly that. Eventually, the socks became a quiet reassurance that this home was permanent, and she wouldn't be left behind. Again. She would get picked up from school.
Ten years later, that lesson has shaped not only how I parent but also why I believe in compliance blended with compassion.
In affordable housing, we ask people to navigate complex systems while they may be experiencing instability, uncertainty, and trauma. It's easy to focus on the paperwork. It's harder to understand a larger story.
๐๐๐๐๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐๐ข๐ฅ๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ ๐๐ก๐๐ง๐ ๐๐ฌ ๐๐ฏ๐๐ซ๐ฒ๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ง๐ .
People thrive when they believe they're safe enough to do so.
Ten years later, I'd sign those adoption papers all over again.
And yes ... we're still pretty serious about ice cream.