When We Believed We Mattered

Original Medium Post: https://justinpasquariello.medium.com/when-we-believed-we-mattered-8c0b32b6637d

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Our journey to mattering and the journey to joy across community

This is the second of a three-part series about the inclusive work of increasing community joy. The first post in the series was the story of family, friends, social workers, and others coming together — recognizing that my birth mother and I mattered, even when we couldn’t.

I had been “parentified,”: I took care of my birth mother and myself when she couldn’t. I was more comfortable with adults than with other kids — and to my 7, 8, and 9 year old peers, I seemed strange sometimes. I felt sorry for myself when I was picked last or felt like the odd one out, and as I came to realize how different my early childhood had been from that of many classmates.

One day not long after my family adopted me, however, I looked at my framed photo of my birth mother and me next to our Christmas tree, and realized how much she had tried and continued to try. I realized how much love I had from her and from all my families and friends. I realized I really couldn’t feel sorry for myself.

Thinking about everything these people had done for me was the beginning of my believing I could matter.

My birth mother’s illness led her to spend too much of the money my birth father and other family had left and given her. She continued to be in and out of hospitals as her diagnosis continued to be incomplete. But her belief that I mattered, and recognition of her importance in my life even if I wouldn’t live with her, helped keep her going.

Her sister and father put some money in trust to be sure it would be used to support her so she could focus on her health and wellbeing.

Finally, when I was somewhere in my tweens, she received a correct diagnosis and the right medication. The joyful approach that had always been there in her stable times radiated through; she built strong relationships, made a life of purpose, connected with church and loved and prayed for me. She knew she mattered.[1]

I am obligated to make all the investment in me worthwhile. From my childhood through now, I have been given so much: love, support, family, friendships, faith in me. And my birth mother always gave me (and then my wife and children) all that she could and all that she had (and even, a little more).

For each of us, a sense of obligation for all we have received can help power our purpose.

When we invest in each other, and show each other we matter, people want to continue that cycle and invest in others. When we act on the recognition that everyone matters, we can unleash a massive amount of human potential and change the world for the better.

Helping everyone thrive

But for the grace of God went my birth mother and me. My birth family fought to support me every way they could — and my birth family had financial resources to be able to fight and be able to see me, even across distance. (So many other birth families, and people who care are about kids in foster care, want to do more, but don’t have the resources to overcome systemic and other barriers to help those children.)

My social workers stayed with me through transitions and even beyond. (So many other social workers want to do more for more kids — but with large caseloads, there aren’t enough hours in the day to bring that attention to all children and families). My adopted family, and our big Italian extended family, gave me so much love — and believed in me. We lived in a town with good schools where I could be seen more as a good student than as a (former) foster child.

I was a white child in a child welfare system with racial inequities that mirror the pervasive racial inequities in our society as a whole. I came from a birth family with some financial resources. I had privileges the great majority of foster children do not have.

People don’t have to go but for the grace of God nearly as often as they do in the United States. There is so much more I (and we) could say about improving the child welfare system [2] — and all the systems and structures with which it intersects — but for now, let’s return to this blog’s focus:

Community joy

Our community joy movement is seeking to create inclusive communities where everyone can experience joy: where everyone can be embedded in long and strong relationships, and can pursue purpose, fitness, mindfulness and fun.

Community joy recognizes that, by definition, none of us can do this alone. Just about none of us can experience joy without others, because joy lives in community.

We recognize we need to make extra investments in supporting people facing extra challenges — like those my birth mother and I faced. We recognize that when we make those investments in those who have historically been marginalized, we can increase joy and wellbeing for everyone.

This movement is about democratizing joy. Despite billions of dollars of spending over many years in the happiness industrial complex [3], joy has been decreasing and social isolation has been increasing. We need to sow an inclusive movement together to reap the impact we seek.

When we support joy for all, we also can drive improved health, increased lifetime earnings, and a healthier democracy. [4] Investing in community joy is about investing in prevention — and even beyond prevention; it is about investing in optimization.

In our next post, we’ll explore how to ensure this is an inclusive movement that can show everyone they matter — and increase joy for all.

In the meantime, Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

This is the 38th post about boosting joy the only way we can: in community. Please share, subscribe, and join our movement by emailing me or supporting East Boston Social Centers. Stay joyful, East Boston.

On Vanessa’s and my wedding day — with some of the family members and friends who helped us know we mattered behind (and others offscreen at the bar). Hopefully, you all know how much you matter to us!

[1] More about her life well lived in my eulogy for her.

[2] Many people are working on it — including East Boston Social Centers, where we are partnering on a federal Children’s Bureau demonstration grant to help avert entry into the child welfare system, and where we provide child care to support children involved with the Department of Children and Families. Silver Lining Mentoring is doing outstanding work, recognizing we thrive when we matter. (And so many others, including many of our partners)

[3] See this post to learn more.

[4] References included here.