Why Kid-Centrism?
At the Dream Center, we provide vital relief for kids and families. We provide a safe place for kids to learn, play and grow at a time when they really need it. 3pm-6pm is the number one time for kids to get in trouble with the law. We provide transportation, feeding and ministry for about 300 kids each week.
We’ve been at it for 21 years now, and we’ve begun to see a phenomenon. You see, kids that we served way back in the day are now bringing their kids to the Dream Center — what we call Second-Generation Dream Center Kids.
And it’s not because they value our program and think we do such an amazing job.
It’s because they’re in the same weird situations their parents were in.
If you’re anything like me, that starts to feel sort of not good enough.
You have to keep doing the relief work. But when do we start to actually change things for these kids and families? How do we help them escape the incredibly powerful forces that would drive generational poverty two, three, four and more generations further into their family?
Two years ago I was at a meeting with the principal of Delaware Elementary School. The meeting was a Site Council meeting — its purpose was to bring school community partners together to talk about resources and supports for the school. I got there early, and the principal sat down across from me clearly exasperated.
“What’s wrong?”
“Dude — what is going on with Jennifer?”
At the time, Jennifer (name changed) was a fourth grader at Delaware, and she’d been exhibiting some concerning behavior at the Dream Center. I wasn’t surprised that he was asking about her.
“I know — she’s been hard to work with at the Dream Center too.”
We spent about five minutes talking about the challenges we were both facing, sharing what we knew about what was going on at home. As we unpacked those challenges, it became clear that that’s where the problem had originated — home life was the root cause of her troubles. The kids we serve face serious challenges at home, and as a result are stronger than we’ll ever be. They have incredible potential — our world needs that something so special to survive.
After our five minute commiseration, the meeting began and we did what we always do. We left the domain of one individual kid, and we flew up to 35,000 feet. We talked about services, and classes, and resources, and programs, and staff members. That’s what we all do. The idea of talking about a specific child was left in the dust.
I was struck that day. It felt so natural to talk about all of those big picture things, but the part of the conversation where I felt like we actually accomplished something was over — in favor of talking at a high level about lots of kids.
I think there’s a place for that. Universal systems of support for kids exist, and we need to continue to work to make them better.
But I want to talk about Jennifer. I want to talk about Bethany and Franklin and Zechariah and Jude. One kid at a time.
Kid-centrism is an ideal. I often say, “Any time we’re off the rails in a conversation about kids it’s usually been a while since we said a kid’s name.
But it’s also a pragmatic approach to solving problems for kids and families — one that runs in opposition to the traditional non-profit approach.
I often joke that non-profits are like cheerleaders.
“Who do we serve?”
“Everybody!”
“What do we do for them?”
“As much stuff as possible!”
This wide not deep approach to non-profits is everywhere. Largely driven by funders’ well-meaning requirements for funding “new” things, non-profits are always looking for the new way to be up and to the right in terms of service provided.
My six least favorite words to hear in a staff meeting or a board meeting are:
“I know what we should do.”
Because almost without question, someone is already doing that thing better than we are. We make decisions about what we should do not based on evidence; not based on the people we serve, but because of our intuition. We had this moment at the Dream Center a few years ago when a very well-meaning board member commented, “We should start a diaper ministry.”
We could do that. We could stop what we’re good at (out-of-school programming), and spend time and energy away from that thing we’re good at learning how to do something we’re not good at.
Without evidence that that’s a need.
Or, we could just partner with Little Lambs. Little Lambs is a fantastic diaper ministry. They’re good at that. Let’s let them be good at that, and bring them into the families we serve.
So what does kid-centrism look like? How does it play out as a new model for non-profits to consider?
Back in March of this year, we led a group of thirteen non-profit leaders, business leaders and educators on a trip to Harlem, New York. We spent two days training with the inspirational leaders at the Harlem Children’s Zone. We learned about how they’ve integrated a kid-centric approach into everything they do. And when we got home, we got to work.
Our approach to kid-centrism is case management. We love our kids like our own biological kids, and we do just what we would do for our own kids — whatever it takes. We are relentless in our effort to build a safety net around that child, and then we work tirelessly to resource those kids with everything they need to be successful.
I’m not starting one new initiative, one new program, or one new service. I’m just employing a case manager into our neighborhood to propel all of the outstanding initiatives, programs and services that already exist into doing those amazing things in this one place in addition to everything else they do. More on this in my last article.
We’ve done this sort of work in an unfocused way for many years at the Dream Center. A family approaches us with this problem or that, and we do whatever we can to help. It’s not part of a larger relationship designed to move the family forward. It’s just meeting today’s special need. It’s good, but not good enough.
We’re often asked, “But what about the parents? Don’t you want to help them?” It’s true — in almost every circumstance, the very best way to help the child is to help the parent. We think of case management with kids sort of like spinning plates. Our case manager gives that kid just enough attention to keep the plate on the stick, and then moves on to the next one. But what if we could empower the parent to spin their own plate? Through goal-setting and constant follow-up, we hope to do just that.
But it has to work if the parents don’t want to play. The truth is that in our neighborhood, some of the neighbors have blankets up over the windows. They don’t answer the door when we knock, and they reject our offers of help. Shadows have crept into their lives in any number of various forms, and until they’re willing to work with us to drive those shadows out, we want their kids to remain successful.
We say that our kids will be successful. That they’ll be career, college and life ready by the time they graduate high school. We believe that has the power to radically transform our city. More on this in the third article.
On Tuesday, our case manager took me to meet a family I hadn’t met. Mom had a baby this past Friday, and we had a basket of goodies to deliver to celebrate thanks to some donor friends.
I had never met these people. But our case manager had developed a really great trusting relationship with them.
We were welcomed warmly into their home, and mom and baby were just waking up from a nap. Dad took the baby and was holding him, and looked up at me.
“Do you want to hold him?”
Remember — we had never met. He trusted our case manager so much that the simple fact that I had come in with him earned me that same trust and respect.
Well, I have three kids (7, 5 and 4), and occasionally miss that baby phase (don’t tell Tara). Which is why my answer was:
“You bet I do!”
As I was holding that baby — as I looked into his eyes, so many things flashed through my mind.
First,
“We love DC kids like our own biological kids. I am going to love you just like I love Lucy, Ellie and Ben.”
Then,
“Dude — I am going to get to go CRAZY when you walk across that graduation stage eighteen years from now! I cannot wait!”
Then,
“Dude — you have a PROMISE from me. You WILL be career, college and life ready. You WILL be successful.”
I cried. It was incredible.
I’ve been hinting around about this new initiative on Facebook for a while now, and it’s time to start to bring some of it out into the light. We absolutely could not be more excited.
Here’s the trick. I said earlier we serve 300 kids at the Dream Center, and I’m sure we could serve 300 more given the capacity.
Jacobsville, our neighborhood, is 200 blocks. (More on our ministry for Jacobsville in article four). If I step out the back door of the Dream Center and hold my arms out wide, and proclaim boldly,
“Jacobsville! Today is the day I fix you,”
Jacobsville laughs and replies,
“No, it isn’t.”
And Jacobsville’s right. I can’t do everything I’m talking about here — I can’t be kid-centric — with 300 kids at once. Not to start.
That’s why four blocks.
And that’s what I’ll share in the next article.