In honor of National Mentoring Month, volunteer and Rookie of the Year Cathryn Kachura wrote this contributing blog post.
When I started with CASA, I volunteered out of anger. Such a negative emotion sounds like a weird motivation for a compassionate endeavor, but I personally knew of a child who was in state care due to abuse and neglect; I felt powerless. I literally Googled “how to help a kid in foster care” and was flooded with different chapters of CASA and stories on the good the volunteers have done—I have been on the ride of my life ever since.
From the very beginning, I knew I wanted to accept a case with an older child. I was adopted when I was just shy of 15, and in my own personal experience, it took someone very special to love me through my challenges and to teach me how to heal through trauma. I chose my case specifically because it felt to me the child had fallen through the cracks of the system. They’re an older teenager, they’ve been moved around through several placements, and permanent conservatorship by the state had already been solidified; it seemed they were destined to age out of the system with no one consistent to make sure they graduated high school with a plan to build a better future for themselves. I wanted more than anything for an opportunity to be that consistent person, to hopefully make a difference in reducing the chances of cyclical trauma. But in times before COVID, we were allowed to bond through hugs and face-to-face conversations with real eye contact; I’ve instead had to rely on emojis, care packages, inside jokes, and even some gentle mutual roasting.
The entire CASA training structure set me up for success, but the most useful tool I was given is Trust-Based Relational Intervention training. I’ve used the emotional affirmation techniques to validate my child’s experiences—negative and positive—building a strong bond of trust, and in turn, they’ve grown to communicate with vital transparency. They’ve allowed me to advocate for them and they’ve taken direction in learning to advocate for themselves.
I was honored to receive recognition as CASA Rookie Advocate of the Year. I wasn’t expecting it at all, I honestly didn’t even know the awards ceremony was a thing, and I didn’t think the warmth in my heart could get any more comforting. Then the child for whom I advocate added, “Duh, Cat, you deserve it.” Y’all, I ugly cried.
I’ve learned a lot since I joined CASA as a volunteer, but I never would’ve guessed the biggest lesson: it’s 100% possible to fall in love with a child you’ve never met.