What to Do?

 Deciding what to do for my capstone project is so hard! I did see a few capstone projects related to children and helping to serve them, and that still really speaks to me. I am still very interested in the idea of hope and what it means to children in crisis and how to nourish and nurture that, but I still don't know how to do that! Part of the difficulty is that my mind keeps going to children in DCYF custody or involved with DCYF, but their confidentiality makes it very hard to work with them. I know there are other types of children in crisis, and it would be more prudent to try and work with them or for them. 

One thing I have been considering is trying to work with school children or create some kind of "care kit" or a "brave backpack" sort of thing with encouraging materials inside that a child can use to regulate and foster positive emotionality (as my therapist likes to say). I'm envisioning children's books about bravery and strength, but also books about how it's okay to feel afraid, angry, or uncertain about the situations they may find themselves in. I'm thinking to also include regulatory tactile materials as well as short activities that can be done to help a child calm down and center themselves, like the five finger candle exercise. 

I have also considered trying to work directly with educators and youth workers to speak about how trauma impacts children in crisis and try to help them find meaningful ways to engage with their youth when they are having a hard time. Hopefully, this would not only help the youth to regulate, but can move them into a more positive headspace where they feel confident in their ability to make it through a given situation. Often, I think about some extreme cases of youth crisis - I can thank working at DCYF for that- and my mind starts to spin about how big of an ask it is to try and address the issues those youth are going through. A brave backpack doesn't do much when someone is being physically or sexually abused, or when they are facing homelessness.

More recently, with the state of the hot garbage we call a government, I have been thinking that a crisis about to hit ALL people, but especially children, is access to food. While I remain disappointed and angry (but in no way surprised) by the unmitigated gall this sham of an administration has in letting millions go hungry while building what I'm sure will be as hideous monstrosity as one can imagine, I also feel very driven to try and help. Food banks are already overwhelmed and things are about to get much worse. I'd like to try and help provide non-perishable items to schools so they can have their own version of a food bank located on their property so parents don't need to go out of their way to find food for their families. 

All that to say, I really don't know how to approach this and narrow it down. My mind is racing with a million ideas, and none of them seem good or impactful enough. Here's hoping for some clarity and a lightbulb moment over the next week or so! In the meantime... don't look at me.

Down with Damage

    When I read Eve Tuck’s “Suspending Damage: A Letter to Communities,” it really made me stop and think about the stories I tell about myself, the people around me, and the communities I’m part of. Tuck talks about how a lot of what gets written or talked about when it comes to marginalized groups focuses on what’s wrong: the pain, the trauma, the loss. She calls this damage-centered thinking.

    I realized how easy it is to fall into that mindset, even with good intentions. When we focus only on what’s broken, we start to see people, and maybe even ourselves, as broken too. It’s like the struggles become the whole story, and all the beauty, creativity, and strength get pushed to the side.

    Tuck offers another way to look at things, what she calls a desire-based approach. Instead of asking, “What’s the problem?” we can ask, “What are people dreaming of? What are they building? How are they showing love and resilience every day?” It’s not about pretending pain doesn’t exist, but about making space for what’s possible too.

    As I think about it, I realize I’ve been defining myself by what’s gone wrong, not by what I hope for. I often measure my progress by what I’ve survived instead of what I’m working toward. Reading Tuck’s letter makes me want to tell different kinds of stories about myself and others, ones that still acknowledge the hard parts but focus more on growth, care, and imagination.

Things That Can't Be Measured

 Reading Restler's first chapter of "What Do You Do That Can't Be Measured" made me think about how impactful one person can be. More so, how impactful I can be if I decide to be. It was beautiful to see how many ways youth workers came together in community and talked, laughed, and cried together. They also practiced radical care together in unorthodox ways like drawings, rubbings, and other artistic mediums. I was very saddened reading about how destructive viewing people as quantitative data points is to individuals and communities. When the teacher killed himself after being rated as "less effective" as an educator, my heart broke. As a former educator myself, I couldn't fathom my work with students being reduced to two words.

Some of the things I do that can't be measured revolve around interpersonal activities. I use my words to affirm others frequently. Giving people hope and encouragement cannot be measured. Caring for others, making space for someone's emotions and prioritizing their mental health and well-being makes a world of difference. Meeting people where they are at is also an act of radical care that I practice.

Where to Wander?

I looked through a bunch of different capstone projects, and it was really interesting to see how many ways people chose to present their work. Some were videos, others were papers or PowerPoints, and a few used Canva's in creative ways. I liked that variety because it showed me there isn’t one “right” way to do a capstone. It really depends on the person and their topic.

Seeing all those examples made me feel more confident about my own project. I tend to overthink format and structure, but these examples reminded me that creativity is part of the process. Each project reflected the student’s voice and interests, which made them feel personal and meaningful.

At the same time, I realized that none of the projects I saw focused on what I’m most interested in: kids in crisis, what hope means to them, and how youth workers can help nurture that hope. At first, that made me wonder if my topic might be too different, but now I think it might actually be a great opportunity. Maybe that means there’s room for me to explore something new and bring more attention to it.

I’m also starting to think about how I’d want to present my capstone. Since my topic deals with emotions and real-life experiences, I think a creative approach could work really well. Maybe I could include interviews, personal stories, or even a short video to go along with the research. I want the project to feel both informative and heartfelt.

Overall, looking at the different capstones helped me realize how flexible this project can be. It made me excited to start shaping mine and to find a way to represent the topic I think I want to focus on: helping kids in crisis find and hold on to hope.

Banter for Breakfast

 

Just Call Me Critical Carrie

 After spending some time exploring positivist, constructivist, and critical research ideologies, I can see how each one offers a very different lens for looking at the same question. Out of the three, I feel most aligned with the critical ideology because it focuses on power, justice, and the social conditions that shape people’s lives. In my work and interests, I keep coming back to how larger systems affect children and youth, especially those living through crisis. The critical perspective doesn’t just study what is, it also asks what things could be made different and how research can play a role in creating more just possibilities.

The question I’ve been pondering is: what role does hope play in how children navigate and recover from crisis, and how can youth programs intentionally nurture it? 

From a positivist lens, I’d probably look at hope as a variable to be measured. I would use surveys or other means to “score” levels of hope and then track how those scores relate to things like emotional recovery, school performance, or interpersonal skills and connections. The goal would be to find patterns across groups of children.

From a constructivist perspective, I’d focus on youth's personal definition of hope. I’d want to hear from children themselves through interviews and stories, about how they understand hope, what it feels like, and how it reveals itself to them in moments of crisis. The answers will probably be unique to each child, shaped by their experiences and view of the world.

From a critical perspective (the one I lean toward), I’d consider how social forces influence a child’s ability to hope. Barriers like poverty, racism, and lack of safety can crush hope, while supportive programs and communities can nurture it or help it begin to grow. I'd be looking at how youth programs can be intentional about creating environments that protect, sustain, and even spark hope for youth during times of crisis.

Question Conundrum

1. What are the most common crises children in my community face (things like housing instability, foster care, parental incarceration, domestic violence)?

2. How do these crises affect children’s social-emotional development?

3. What coping strategies do children naturally use during times of crisis, and how effective are they?

4. How do crises impact children’s educational stability and academic outcomes?

5. What kinds of supports do caregivers (parents, foster parents, kinship caregivers) need to better support children during crisis?

6. How can youth workers or educators be better trained to respond to children experiencing trauma?

7. How do families in crisis experience stigma, and how does that impact children?

8. What role do schools, afterschool programs, and community centers play in supporting children in crisis?

9. How can community partnerships reduce service gaps for families in crisis?

10. In what ways do cultural or linguistic differences affect how families access crisis support?

11. What policies or practices make it harder for families in crisis to get help (intentionally or unintentionally)?

12. What existing youth development programs are most effective for children experiencing crisis, and why?

13. How can play, art, or storytelling be used as helpful tools during times of crisis?

14. What low-cost methods or items could be created for non-specialists (like volunteers or teachers) to use with children in crisis that aren’t isolating?

15. How can we evaluate whether an intervention actually helps children in crisis feel safer and more supported?

16. How do children define “safety” and “support” during times of crisis, and how does that differ from how adults define it on their behalf?

17. What would a crisis-response system look like if it were designed entirely from a child’s perspective?

18. How do intergenerational experiences of crisis (like a parent’s trauma history) shape a child’s response to their own internal crisis?

19. What role does hope play in how children navigate and recover from crisis, and how can youth programs intentionally nurture it?

20. How can communities create spaces where children in crisis feel empowered to lead, rather than just receive services?