How I Was Raised

We all come from somewhere, a lineage, if you will. Mine begins with my parents, who taught me that being part of a community is essential, that questions are worth asking, and that we have a responsibility to serve. It extends through the many people who have taught me, inspired me, challenged me, and joined me for different stretches of the journey. Their influence is woven into who I am today.

I grew up and went to college in Missouri, where I began as a music major before discovering, by the end of my freshman year, that English literature was my path. Immersing myself in the power of story is still very much a part of who I am. People are complex, paradox is everywhere, and life is full of metaphor and symbol.

After a stint in Washington, D.C., working for the Truman Scholarship Foundation, I spent a year in West Virginia as an AmeriCorps VISTA volunteer. That year became the beginning of a much longer relationship with West Virginia, and with the work of helping communities and organizations thrive.

That’s when I met Trudy.

Trudy had been a pioneer in the domestic violence and sexual assault movement in West Virginia, and she was working on something new: founding a children’s advocacy center (CAC). She and a handful of other badass women wanted something to be different for children who had experienced abuse, and they were willing to put in the hard work to make it happen.

Not only was Trudy working to create what would soon become the first accredited CAC in West Virginia, she was also building a powerful network of changemakers who shared a mission. I had the pleasure of getting toted along to the early meetings of the West Virginia Child Advocacy Network, with a couple of hours in the car each way on winding mountain roads to download the wisdom of what makes change possible.

At the local CAC, I worked to strengthen a community of support around our efforts, but I also became one of the center’s first forensic interviewers. I saw firsthand the power of bearing witness to a child’s story, believing them, and seeing how sharing your burden can change your life for the better.

We weren’t meant to walk this path alone.

Through a wild turn of events and a tangle of opportunity, I had the gift of being entrusted by the network of CACs to serve as a primary advocate at the legislature for funding. Within a year, we had secured a new million-dollar line item for CACs, and I was given the opportunity to steward the nascent network as its first executive director.

I spent the next decade partnering with local communities to establish a network of 21 CACs across West Virginia, serving thousands of children each year. I’m proud to say we built one of the strongest networks of CACs in the country, and one of the highest levels of state funding support relative to our population.

To this day, I believe running a statewide network of CACs is one of the hardest jobs there is. The stakes are high: you bear the weight of ensuring the health of a network of independent nonprofits, knowing that hundreds of professionals and thousands of children are depending on you. The interconnectedness of CACs is one of the most beautiful gifts and one of the heaviest weights. What happens in one place impacts the whole.

At times, that weight was crushing. I’m so grateful that my mentors Cathy and John helped me learn to share the weight, and to believe in myself.

After that, I took a fun left turn and helped my dear friends Jen and Carling scale their creative brilliance at 84 Agency. I helped with operations, got to partner on some incredible communications projects, and did consulting work to help cover my salary. But after a couple of years, I felt a calling back inside the mission of CACs.

I picked up the phone and called my dear friend Karen to see if she had a job for me at the National Children’s Advocacy Center (NCAC). She did.

At NCAC, I got to work with the coolest leadership team of my career, partnering with my longtime colleagues Kori, Greg, and Karen to unlock a new theory of change, services design, and vision for the future.

Through it all, I’ve been in West Virginia, my chosen home.

My human teachers are too many to list here, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the teachers who have held me through it all. My deepest learning and most profound insights have been accompanied by the rivers that surround me, the mountains that cradle me, and the natural world that continually reminds me of the wisdom within me and in all of creation.

The natural world has taught me to look for what is underneath the surface: the networks that connect us, the patterns that repeat, and the unseen systems that make life possible. I see those lessons everywhere, from the fractal of a fern to the underground network of mycelium to the spaces between the cells of our bodies.

When I pay attention to that sacred wisdom, I am better for it.

The poet Mary Oliver said it best:

Instructions for living a life: 
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it.

I try.
I am.
I’m telling you now.