The Foster Parent Friends Who Actually Made Me Last

May is National Foster Parent Appreciation Month—and before we hand out all the flowers, let’s get honest about what actually keeps foster parents going.

It’s not grit. It’s not heroism. And it’s definitely not another training.

It’s connection.

I was a foster parent for 25 years. And I didn’t last because I had some superhuman capacity to handle it all.

I lasted because I refused to do it alone.

When Support Doesn’t Exist… You Build It

At some point, it became very clear to me:

The system wasn’t going to create the kind of space foster parents actually needed.

So we did.

First came FAPA — Foster Adoptive Parent Alliance. Then DAFF — DeKalb Area Friends of Fostering.

They weren’t fancy. No big funding streams. No polished curriculum.

Just real people, showing up, telling the truth, and holding each other up.

And yes—the agency didn’t love it.

Because when foster parents come together, we stop thinking something is wrong with us… and start realizing we’re navigating a system that doesn’t always work the way it should.

Connection creates clarity. Clarity creates confidence. And confidence? That turns into advocacy.

We met with legislators, judges, attorneys, schools—not to cause trouble, but to fight for better outcomes for the kids in our care.

The Women Who Linked Arms With Me

And I need to say this out loud—because none of this was built by me alone.

Patty—my partner in it all. She gets me, finds humor in the hard, and loves lasagna. Present for every win, and even more present for every hard, messy, “what are we even doing?” moment.

Tina—who organized, baked, planned, and somehow made sure people felt cared for before they even walked in the room. She even sewed stockings for each child at our annual Christmas party—and wasn’t afraid to jump in alongside me, trench coat and all, when we needed to go find and bring back my runaway teens safely.

Alicia—at the heart of DAFF, always the first to welcome you in, always the first to wrap you in a warm hug, and the one who made sure we could laugh even when things were heavy.

Kay—a foster parent and public health nurse who kept us informed, grounded, and thinking bigger than just our own homes.

And Liz—my friend, gone too soon and still shaping how I show up. Larger than life in lived experience, never afraid to challenge us—usually with a question that cut straight to the truth, like, “Are you shaking that bottle?”—always pushing us to step it up.

These weren’t just helpers.

They were the circle.

The reason it worked. The reason it lasted. The reason so many of us made it through.

We Made Each Other Feel Normal

Because fostering is not normal life.

It’s meaningful. It’s beautiful. And it’s also unpredictable, emotional, and sometimes completely disorienting.

Those groups gave us something the system didn’t:

A place where someone could say, “Yeah, that happened to me too.”

A place where we didn’t have to explain the basics. A place where we could laugh, vent, question, and just be.

We normalized a very abnormal life.

And that matters more than we talk about.

Because as Brené Brown reminds us:

“True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.”

And let me tell you—foster parents don’t have a lot of spaces where they can fully be who they are.

Strong and struggling. Confident and questioning. Loving and exhausted.

All at the same time.

Those groups—FAPA, DAFF—gave us that.

And once you experience that kind of belonging?

You realize it’s not a luxury.

It’s a lifeline.

And Then… Something Clicked

At the time, I was serving as the chairperson for the Illinois Statewide Foster Care Advisory Council.

And in walks Kathryn Goetz to present the Parent Café model.

And I’ll tell you exactly what happened: I was shook.

Because what I saw wasn’t another program. It wasn’t another training. It wasn’t someone talking at foster parents.

It was exactly what we had been trying to create— but with intention, structure, and a level of depth we hadn’t quite been able to name yet.

What I needed all along wasn’t more education.

It was engagement. Connection. Real information from people doing the exact same thing I was doing.

Not theory. Not policy.

Lived experience.

And sitting there, I realized… this was it.

A (Still Loving) Reality Check for Agencies

Let’s just say the quiet part out loud:

If foster parents have to build their own support systems from scratch… that’s a gap.

And not a small one.

If your primary support strategy is training, compliance, and check-ins… you’re missing it.

Foster parents don’t just need information.

They need spaces to connect, reflect, and be real with each other.

Not surveillance spaces. Not “raise your hand if you have a question” trainings. Not pizza parties twice a year.

Real spaces.

Spaces where foster parents can:

· Speak honestly without fear

· Learn from lived experience, not just policy

· Build relationships that actually sustain them

Call it Parent Cafés. Call it something else.

But build it.

On purpose.

Appreciation That Actually Lands

So yes—this month, appreciate foster parents.

But let’s not stop at appreciation that sounds good.

Let’s build appreciation that functions.

Because I didn’t last 25 years because I was extraordinary.

I lasted because I was surrounded.

By foster parent friends. By circles I helped build. By spaces that reminded me I wasn’t alone.

And eventually—by the Be Strong Families Parent Cafe model that put language and structure to what we had always known we needed.

One Last Thing

If you’re a foster parent feeling like you’re the only one holding it all together…

You’re not.

And you were never meant to be.

Find your people. Build your circle if you have to. And if you don’t know where to start—reach out to me. Let’s talk. Let’s build it together.

Because the work is too important—and too heavy—to do without each other.

And if you’re in a position to create those spaces?

Don’t wait.

That’s not a “nice to have.”

That’s the whole game.

As Coretta Scott King said: “The greatness of a community is most accurately measured by the compassionate actions of its members.”

Let’s be the kind of community that shows up for foster parents—not just in words, but in how we build, connect, and stand alongside them every single day.