Jocelyn Fetting, BSW

Good morning, everyone. I hope you’re all doing well and enjoying your Thursday so far. My name is Jocelyn Fetting- I’m a big sister to two, an almost two-time university graduate, and someone with eight and a half years of experience in the Illinois child welfare system.

I’m truly grateful to be speaking on a platform that supports iCARE for Adoptive And Foster Families, because I met Laura at a pivotal moment in any big sister’s life (especially when you have an 11-year gap): deciding whether or not to have a very firm conversation with a 9-year-old. My sister had just experienced a placement change, but stayed at the same school, when a classmate told her, “You don’t even have parents who love you.” Hearing that broke my heart- and stirred something deeper.

When I met Laura and was introduced to iCARE for Adoptive And Foster Families, it was like a breath of fresh air. Finally, someone was working on the elephant in the classroom- normalizing foster care in schools. Because when my sister told me what happened, I felt her pain. That had been my fear for nearly a decade: that my own foster care experience would be used against me in school.

I want to be clear- what happened to my sister wasn’t just bullying. I believe the isolation that students in care experience is a targeted result of invisibility. Foster care is not normalized in classrooms. And in 2025, when families look all kinds of ways, why are we still so hung up on “mom and dad” being the default?

I entered foster care in 7th grade. In the blink of an eye, everything changed- my house, my neighborhood, my school, my friends, my pets… My parents. And when the questions came- and they always did- I didn’t know what to say. The only orphan I knew was Annie, and I wasn’t living in a mansion with a billionaire.

So, I started telling people my parents had died. That shut down the questions. It worked for a while. Until I had to write a paper about how my mom was my hero, and I didn’t have the confidence to ask for an alternative assignment. Until biology class required a family tree. Until a college essay asked me to explain where I came from.

Foster youth are an interesting group to be part of- because everyone has something to say about foster care. And it’s rarely kind.

Those assignments didn’t just sting- they triggered flashbacks, depressive episodes, and sometimes, failing grades. When I received one of iCARE’s Connection Kits, I finally felt seen. There were alternative assignments for exact moments that once broke me. There were conversation starters designed to build trust and real relationships. I thought- this should have existed for me. It should exist for every student. School is often where young people seek refuge from the chaos of home. It should feel safe. And educators- who are doing the hard work day in and out- deserve to have the tools and training to support all children.

This past spring, I re-entered elementary school- but this time as a paraprofessional. I was placed in a 1st and 2nd grade special education classroom that had lost nearly its entire staff- including the teacher- back in November. Needless to say, it was quite a ride.

Eventually, Mrs. Lambert realized I was sticking around. She paired me with one of our more “spirited” students. And to be honest, I was a little scared- he had already called me a poopyhead and we were not exactly on good terms. But then I started to watch. The blowups, the constant attention-seeking, the difficulty trusting anyone. And then I listened. His dad had passed the previous summer, his mom was inconsistently involved, and his grandma was now in the process of adopting him and his younger sister.

He also loves Bluey. A lot.
And suddenly, with a few long hugs, some reassurance, and space to just be seen- he started opening up. I will remember him for a very long time.

Another moment I’ll never forget happened when I was substitute teaching Pre-K. No one warned me about the student with an intense attachment to his teacher, who became hostile when she wasn’t there. He had prior experience in care, and it was assumed his teacher reminded him of his biological mother.

He was five- but the rage in his little hands felt much older. He was the eldest of a sibling group, all adopted into different homes. When he started targeting other students, I knew I had to remove him from the classroom- but many of the staff were scared. Scared of this five-year-old boy.

I cried during lunch. He took a nap.

Later that day, he corrected me when I called a peer “little man.” He said, “He’s not little. He’s big.” And I realized- he wasn’t just talking about his friend. He was trying to remind himself.

I watched him cautiously hop onto the jumbo swing with the others. He held out his arms to shield the other kids from falling.

And this is why I believe in iCARE’s work.

Because foster and adoptive homes do not have to be taboo. We can let go of the idea that families look just one way- because they don’t. Schools weren’t built with foster and adoptive youth in mind. But we are here now- educators, advocates, caregivers, and systems partners- and we can change that.

Thanks to iCARE, we have Connection Kits, training opportunities, and the bold vision to move toward healing-centered schools- where no child is afraid to be seen.

Thank you so much for having me.