Author name: Brooke Rouse

By: Brooke Rouse, BA, Marketing Manager When Nikki and Adam first dreamed of growing their family, they imagined adoption—not foster care. “Funny story,” Nikki says with a smile. “We knew we wanted to adopt, and years ago, I even spent a summer working in an orphanage in Romania.” With two biological children already, they attended a large seminar filled with adoption agencies. Foster care wasn’t on their radar. “We were sure we didn’t want to foster,” Nikki recalls.  Their adoption journey eventually led them to China, where they welcomed their son into their family. Life was full and beautiful, but God had more in store. “We walked into Beech Acres thinking about adoption again, kids whose parental rights had already been terminated,” Nikki explains. “But God put it on our hearts to walk with biological families, too.” That shift changed everything. They joined the foster care program at Beech Acres Parenting Center (BAPC), and for the past four years, they’ve opened their home to sibling placements and provided respite care for other foster families. Along the way, they’ve built incredible relationships with biological families, something Nikki calls “a privilege.”  Their first placement was unforgettable: premature twins who spent months in the NICU. “We have twins on both sides of our family, so we thought it was really special,” Nikki says. But the reality was challenging. The babies were medically fragile and needed constant care. “Failure to thrive, feeding issues. There was so much to learn,” Nikki shares. Yet her biological kids embraced the babies wholeheartedly, and Nikki formed a close bond with their grandmother. “We still talk twice a month,” she says. “It was an amazing experience.” Nikki even helped the grandmother and eight siblings move into a new home, making sure they had Christmas gifts and everything they needed. Her second placement brought more joy – and more challenges – with three four-year-olds and a three-year-old, all with medical needs. Through it all, Nikki’s strength has been advocacy: “I fight for my kids. That’s my role.”  Beech Acres has been a constant source of support. “From the very beginning, they’ve gone above and beyond,” Nikki says. When the county wouldn’t allow her to visit one of the babies in the NICU, BAPC stepped in. “Even the CEO called to advocate for us,” Nikki recalls. “They never stop fighting for families.”  Fostering has taught Nikki something profound: “I’m capable of loving kids instantly.” Her family is beautifully diverse, with African American, Chinese, and Hispanic children. “It’s a privilege to love these babies,” she says. “I’m more protective and stronger than I ever imagined. I never thought I could handle medical needs, but now I know I can.”  Building trust starts with the basics: food, safety, and play. “Adam is the fun one,” Nikki laughs. “He gets down on their level, plays, and makes them laugh.” For Nikki, it’s about creating a nurturing environment where kids feel secure and loved. “Our kids are the biggest love bugs,” she says.  Her advice for anyone considering fostering? “You can do it, you just have to jump in,” Nikki says honestly. “The first two weeks, you’ll wonder if you made a mistake. But with a support system, you’ll get through it. We didn’t cook dinner for two weeks because friends and church stepped in.” She recommends reading trauma-informed books and leaning on community. “Once those kids walk through your door, you love them. I choose to do the hard things because they don’t have a choice. If not me, who? If not now, when?”  One memory stands out: her current placement of siblings, ages three and four. “Little moments – like when our three-year-old started talking – are everything,” Nikki says. “Kids who’ve been through trauma are still capable of love. They can soften and tender. Seeing that transformation is incredible.”  Adoption and fostering have shaped Nikki and Adam’s family in ways they never expected. “We said ‘no’ to certain needs at first,” Nikki admits. “But when those kids became ours, none of that mattered. You love them with all your heart.” 

By: Brooke Rouse, B.A. and Marketing Manager When Jenn and Ernie first learned about fostering, they weren’t sure they were ready to open their home full-time. But after watching close friends serve as foster parents and provide respite care, short-term support for foster families, they decided to give it a try themselves.  “We started out just helping our friends,” Jenn recalls. “We took the respite classes and began staying with their foster kids on weekends or during emergencies. Before we knew it, we were doing respite all the time and we absolutely fell in love with it.”  Those early experiences opened their eyes and hearts in ways they never expected. Through respite, they met children from all walks of life, supported single foster parents who needed time to rest, and gained hands-on experience that helped them feel more comfortable and confident. “If we hadn’t done respite, we wouldn’t have become foster parents,” Jenn says. “Respite helped us realize how much love we had to give, and it showed us what we were capable of.”  Eventually, the couple decided to take the next step and open their home to a full-time placement. That’s when they met Nova, a baby with complex medical needs who truly called on them to love bravely.  Nova required oxygen at night, regular visits with multiple specialists, and endured several hospitalizations in just a few months. “It was terrifying at first,” Jenn remembers. “He almost died from RSV. Emotionally, I was in crisis mode all the time. But even when he was sick, I always knew in my heart that he was coming home.”  Caring for Nova was demanding and emotional, but it also revealed a new depth of love and strength within them. “He was a child that many people might have said no to,” Jenn says softly. “But we couldn’t imagine saying no. He’s taught us more about love, resilience, and faith than we ever thought possible.”  Throughout every challenge, Beech Acres Parenting Center has been there for them. “Jess, our social worker, was amazing,” Jenn says. “She was at our house weekly and always just a call away. The foster community and Facebook group have been so supportive – it truly feels like family.”  They also found comfort and friendship through other foster families. One family in particular, the McHales, became like an extended family. Their adopted twins and Nova are now inseparable, “three peas in a pod,” Jenn laughs.  Jenn and Ernie have learned the importance of being genuine and creating a sense of security for every child who comes into their home. “Ernie and I talk a lot about being our authentic selves,” Jenn explains. “He always says, ‘We acknowledge their fears and sadness. We make sure they have their own space – fresh pajamas, a toothbrush, new socks, a stuffed animal – so they feel safe and cared for.’”  Some of their most meaningful moments are the ones filled with quiet love: sitting in a child’s room until they fall asleep, playing music to calm their worries, or offering reassurance when visits with biological family don’t go as planned. “You love them like they’re your own, even if you know they might not stay,” Jenn says. “It’s not easy, but it’s worth it.”  Jenn remembers one special moment vividly – the day she told a young girl that she got her Christmas wish. “She wanted to live with family again, and I got to tell her she was going to live with her grandmother,” Jenn smiles. “Her face just lit up. Moments like that remind you why you do this.”  Another lasting memory was a birthday dinner for Ernie with two girls who were about to return to their mom. “We took them to the Incline House for Ernie’s birthday. It was freezing, and he gave them his jacket. It was the last time we saw them—but it was filled with love and laughter.”  For those thinking about fostering but feeling unsure, Jenn encourages starting small. “Be a support to foster families. Try respite care first and see how it feels. You’ll fall in love with the kids – you really will.”  Today, Nova is thriving, and Jenn and Ernie have officially adopted him. Their journey has strengthened their relationship and shaped their family in beautiful ways. “We didn’t start fostering to adopt,” Jenn says. “We foster to reunite families. Nothing in foster care is guaranteed. But it’s changed us for the better – it’s made us stronger together.” 

By: Sarah Fields, BA and the Parent Connext® and The Character Effect™ teams A day designed for joy and excitement often brings with it a hidden layer of overwhelm, especially for little ones. In the blur of excitement, children are navigating rapid transitions: from high-energy water play to sudden meal breaks, from rowdy games with cousins to hugs from unfamiliar relatives. Their sensory systems are working overtime, taking in the sizzling grill, chatter layered over background music, sticky fingers, and the ever-changing pace of activity. By the time dusk sets in, many kids are already running on empty and then comes the evening peak. The crowd gathers, anticipation swells, and the sky is a light with a gleaming, explosive display.For some children, it’s magical. For others, it’s simply too much. What looks like “meltdowns”, or “bad behavior” may in fact be a child’s nervous system calling for help. Let’s explore how caregivers can recognize the signs of sensory overload, prepare their children for these dynamic events, and create emotionally safe spaces that allow the whole family to enjoy the magic without mayhem. The Science of Sensory Overload Children’s developing brains are like sponges, constantly absorbing sensory input. But unlike adults, their regulatory systems aren’t fully equipped to filter or organize that input efficiently. Loud booms, bright flashes, sticky hands, fluctuating temperatures; what might feel like background noise to adults can hit children as a full-on sensory storm. Common signs of sensory overload can include: For neurodivergent children or those with anxiety, the threshold for sensory saturation may be lower. What’s intended as celebration can unintentionally feel like chaos. Recognizing that sensory differences aren’t behavioral problems, but nervous system responses is a powerful mindset shift for caregivers. Beech Acres The Character Effect™ Specialist, Natalie Rinehart reflects on her own personal experience. “As a parent to a neurodivergent child, I have to be intentional about shifting my perspective from believing that the behavior needs correction to understanding that the behavior is sending me a message. Helping our exceptional children feel comfortable in a world that isn’t built for them builds their capacity for self-acceptance, resilience, and belonging.” Preparing Ahead When kids know what to expect, their stress response can soften. Talk ahead of time about the sights, sounds, and sensations they may encounter: “There might be really loud booms, but we’ll bring headphones and hold hands.” Let them know how their bodies might react and that it’s okay. Visuals and social stories can be great tools, especially for young or neurodivergent children. A simple illustrated story walking through the evening’s events: dinner, fireworks, then pajamas; can create a comforting roadmap. Invite children to co-create a comfort plan: What will help if it gets too loud? Where can they go if they need quiet? Which fidget, stuffed animal, or snack makes them feel safe? When kids are part of the plan, they feel more in control. Coping Strategies for the Moment Real-time tools make all the difference. Some families keep a “sensory toolkit” handy during big events, including: Create calm zones. A cozy car seat, a blanket tent indoors, or a shaded corner away from the crowd. Normalize taking breaks: “Sometimes our bodies need a rest to feel good again. Let’s go get some quiet time.” Letting kids step away and regroup without shame helps them build lifelong self-regulation skills. Processing Big Emotions The event may be over, but children often carry the emotional residue well into the night or even the next day. That’s why post-event decompression is key. After the excitement, build in space for grounding activities: quiet play with familiar toys, cuddles in a cozy corner, or even drawing about their favorite (or least favorite) part of the day. Model emotional reflection in a low-pressure way: “Wow, that was a lot to take in. How did your body feel when the fireworks started?” This gives language to physical and emotional experiences many kids don’t yet know how to express. And when they do articulate or signal their needs praise that self-awareness. Celebrating the use of calming strategies or simply asking for space reinforces that it’s not about avoiding big feelings but learning to move through them safely. Reframing the Experience Not every child leaves a celebration beaming and that’s okay. Talk as a family about what parts felt joyful and what felt tricky. Maybe your child loved the sparklers but hid under a blanket for the finale. That’s not a failure, it’s a full, nuanced experience. Help kids understand that uncomfortable moments don’t negate the good ones. Reassure them: “Even though some parts felt too big, you stayed connected to yourself. That’s something to be proud of.” Let them know that feeling deeply is not a flaw, it’s a strength. Big feelings mean big growth. Joyful Memories Without the Overwhelm Every child is different, and every celebration can be adjusted. You have permission to modify, skip, or reinvent traditions to align with your child’s needs. The ultimate goal isn’t the perfect family photo, it’s helping your child feel safe, seen, and included. Instead of rigid expectations, invite mindfulness. Notice how your child lights up during bubble play or finds peace beside you under a blanket. Those are the sparks worth chasing. As you plan your next gathering, consider not just how to celebrate but how to make celebration feel like freedom for every member of your family.

Written by: Sarah Fields, BA with the Parent Connext® Team Being a parent is hard. It means answering tough questions, sometimes at the most unexpected moments. Maybe you’re driving your child home from school when they see a rainbow flag and ask, “What’s that for?” Or perhaps they overhear someone using a slur and turn to you, searching for an explanation. These are the moments when parenting feels like navigating a maze blindfolded. There’s no perfect script. No magical words that immediately erase confusion or discomfort. But good news? You don’t need perfection. You just need honesty, patience, and a willingness to grow alongside your child. Starting the Conversation Imagine you’re sitting down for dinner, and your child brings up Pride after hearing classmates talk about it. How do you explain something so big and complex in a way that makes sense? Starting with the Basics:What is Pride? Pride Month is both a joyful celebration and a serious political reminder that LGBTQIA people are here and deserve the same rights as everyone else. It’s a great experience that people of all ages can and should check out.[1] Most kids accept this without hesitation. Children tend to see differences with curiosity rather than judgment, a beautiful strength that should be honored. Walt Whitman once said, “Be curious, not judgmental,” and children embody this naturally. Pride is an opportunity to nurture that curiosity with openness and encouragement. That curiosity might lead to deeper questions, like, “Why does she have two dads instead of a mom and a dad?” This is the perfect time to highlight that families come in many forms, and every one of them is worthy of love and celebration. Books like Everywhere Babies and Love Makes a Family by Sophie Beer showcase diverse families, reinforcing the idea that love is what makes a family, not a particular structure. Next, explain the difference between hate speech and free speech. These terms are used interchangeably, but they are not. Freedom of expression is a human right and tackling hate speech protects this right. It’s possible to disagree with or criticize an individual or group without threatening their well-being and safety. Hate speech limits freedom of expression as those targeted by hateful language do not feel safe expressing themselves freely. [2] Your child might frown, confused. “But why would they do that?” Ah. The ultimate parenting dilemma. Explaining cruelty without passing it down. Teaching Empathy Over Judgment Kids tend to see fairness in the world. They believe people should be kind. When they see hatred, their first instinct is to categorize people into “good” and “bad.” But black-and-white thinking rarely leads to understanding. You can try reframing it like this:“Some people grew up hearing negative things about LGBTQ+ people, and they never questioned it. Others are afraid of things they don’t understand. And some are just mean because they want to feel powerful.” Then, turn the conversation back to what they can do:“But here’s the cool part… you don’t have to be like them. You get to decide how you treat people. If you see someone being bullied or hear hateful words, you can speak up. You can be the person who chooses kindness.” Building a Culture of Pride at Home Conversations are great, but kids learn more from what they see than what they hear. If you want them to embrace inclusivity, show them how. Most importantly, keep the conversation going. This isn’t a one-time talk, it’s an ongoing lesson in empathy, courage, and advocacy. Your child doesn’t need to understand everything all at once. They just need to know that no matter what, your family stands for curiosity, kindness, love, and acceptance. References

By: Sarah Fields, Marketing and Design Coordinator at Beech Acres Parenting Center “That’s not how you do that! Are you stupid?”  I stood frozen by the bookshelf my father had just built, and I was told to paint. Grabbing my hand, still holding the paintbrush, he barked, “You go with the grain.” He huffed and walked away. I felt like a failure like I was stupid. I was eight years old. How was I supposed to know how to paint? I was never taught. How was I supposed to know how to boil water for macaroni? I didn’t understand that the smoke coming from the pot was steam and that steam is hot. The oven was gas, meaning an open flame sat right at child height. But Mom was busy watching a movie. It was late in the evening, and she had worked all day. I was hungry, and she told me to do it myself. My hand grew painfully hot as I tried to stir the bubbling water. In a moment of childlike problem-solving, I grabbed a dish towel to wrap around my hand. It worked for a moment—until the towel fell into the flame and caught fire. I panicked and tried to throw the towel into the sink, but it missed, landing on the counter under the kitchen curtains. I screamed. My father rushed in and put the fire out. Instead of asking if I was okay or what had happened, he yelled at me. How stupid could I be to drop a flaming towel under the curtains? I was sent to my room again believing something was wrong with me. I grew up believing I was stupid. Always wrong. Never enough. As we recognize Mental Health Awareness Month, it’s important to remember that childhood experiences like these don’t just pass. They shape our internal worlds, self-esteem, coping mechanisms, and mental health. Kerry Brown, Senior Parenting Specialist for Parent Connext®, reminds us that “all of life provides teachable moments all the time, so ask yourself as a parent, what are you teaching your child? Is it strength-based or critical? By focusing on what our child does well, we build confidence and competence throughout their lifetime.” It wasn’t until I became an aunt that something shifted. I found myself correcting my nieces and nephew with the same sharp tone my father used with me. But then I paused. I remember: They don’t know. No one is born knowing how to behave, clean, bathe, cook, or obey. Children are not tiny adults. They are blank pages, ready to learn. It is our responsibility as adults to teach patiently, clearly, and kindly. Instead of assuming a child should “know better,” we must recognize when they haven’t been taught yet. Instead of shaming them for mistakes, we must guide them through the lessons they are learning. Instead of yelling when they falter, we must remember mistakes are part of growth. When a child spills milk, forgets their chores, or gets frustrated trying something new, ask yourself: Did I show them how to do it? Did I model the behavior? Did I give them the tools they need to succeed? Children learn through watching, practicing, failing, and trying again. They thrive when their caregivers see mistakes not as evidence of stupidity but as opportunities for teaching, connection, and emotional safety. I think about that scared eight-year-old often.  She didn’t need yelling.  She didn’t need shame.  She needed a teacher.  She needed grace.  She needed someone to say, “Let me show you.” Now, as an adult, I aim to be the voice that says, “You didn’t know. Let’s learn together.” Healing from childhood wounds and breaking generational cycles isn’t easy, but it is crucial for our own mental health and for the future mental health of the next generation. Because no child should ever be left asking, “How was I supposed to know?”

By: Sarah Fields, Marketing and Design Coordinator Each month, communities worldwide come together to raise awareness for important causes. In May, we celebrate the rich heritage of Jewish Americans, Asian American Pacific Islanders, and Haitians. May is also recognized as Mental Health Awareness Month, a time to reflect on how far we’ve come and how far we still have to go. As a society, we’re beginning to acknowledge an uncomfortable truth—most mental health research has historically focused on white men. Too often, systems of care assume a one-size-fits-all approach, ignoring the unique needs shaped by our diverse backgrounds and experiences. But time and time again, we are reminded, loud and clear, that we are not all the same. Racial and ethnic minority groups often experience poorer mental health outcomes due to barriers such as lack of access to quality care, cultural stigma, and discrimination (Psychiatry.org). If we’ve learned anything, generalizations aren’t just misleading but dangerous. They erase the richness of our unique histories, experiences, and struggles. When we talk about mental health, we must recognize that identity, culture, and background shape not only how we experience mental health challenges but also how we seek help and whether the systems meant to support us are equipped to meet our needs. Treatment gaps persist across racial and ethnic lines—69.8% of white individuals with serious mental illness receive treatment, compared to only 51.7% of Hispanic or Latino individuals, 55.8% of Black or African American individuals, and 57.6% of American Indian or Alaskan Native individuals (NAMIGA.org). As we honor Jewish American, Asian American Pacific Islander, and Haitian heritage this month, we are reminded that mental health cannot be separated from cultural identity. Experiences of immigration, racism, generational trauma, and resilience all influence well-being. For example, Asian American and Pacific Islander communities experience unique challenges, with 2.7 million individuals facing mental health or substance use disorders. Yet, cultural and structural barriers prevent many from accessing care (Psychiatry.org). American Indian and Alaska Native populations, too, experience disproportionately higher rates of mental health struggles, often linked to intergenerational trauma (Psychiatry.org). Youth mental health also presents critical concerns. Suicide rates among Ohio high schoolers increased by 54% from 2012 to 2020, compared to a 29% increase nationwide (HopefulEmpoweredYouth.org). Marginalized communities, particularly Black youth, face significant mental health disparities—16% of Black youth report poor mental well-being compared to only 4% of their white peers (HopefulEmpoweredYouth.org). Yet, a disconnect remains between young people and adults; while 39% of youth report feeling anxious all or most of the time, 91% of parents rate their child’s mental health as good, very good, or excellent (InteractForHealth.org). Awareness is only the first step. True equity requires listening to diverse voices, challenging outdated assumptions, and committing to research and care practices that honor the full spectrum of human experience. Youth themselves have identified barriers such as limited access to affirming care, a lack of trusted adults, and community safety concerns as significant obstacles to their well-being (HopefulEmpoweredYouth.org). Trauma-informed approaches and youth-led strategies are crucial to addressing these disparities (HopefulEmpoweredYouth.org). Let’s celebrate the richness of our collective heritage in May and every month by building a future where every story is valued, and every need is met with understanding and respect.