Hope in Action for Our Community

Ever since my first Spanish class in high school, I’ve hoped to be fluent in the language. That hope nearly ended, however, during my freshman year of college, thanks to a Spanish professor so intimidating that I tried to disappear in the back of the classroom. My confidence was shaken, and for years, I gave up on the dream altogether.

Years later, when my oldest son started taking Spanish in school, I decided to try again, learning alongside him. I studied his vocabulary, worked on his assignments, read his reading material, and even quizzed myself after his tests came home. It felt good to be working on this goal, but as he became fluent, I realized I still struggled with speaking and listening. I needed to keep pushing, so I took classes at Grand Rapids Community College and even audited a few courses at my alma mater. Eventually, I reached a level of fluency that allowed me to use Spanish in my work with Spanish-speaking clients—a deeply rewarding experience that came through years of effort.

Hope didn’t get me there on its own. My hope of learning Spanish needed real commitment and perseverance. It meant putting myself in uncomfortable situations, pushing through failures, and picking myself up each time I fell short.

That’s the nature of hope. As the viral quote goes, “People speak of hope as if it is this delicate, ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider’s webs. It’s not. Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of cobblestones in her hair, and just spat out a tooth as she rises for another go.” Hope is gritty, stubborn, and relentless. It’s not about wishing things were better; it’s about rolling up our sleeves and making them better.

If we want to improve the lives of children and families in our community who face abuse, neglect, and difficult circumstances, we can’t simply wish for things to get better. We must be part of the change. It takes hard work—advocating for children, supporting families, and pushing for systemic improvements. Our hope must be in the action we take together as community members and citizens.

The road to change may be tough, but with a hope that gets back up and keeps fighting, we can create real impact for those who need it most. I invite you to join us—to be their hope. Whether you volunteer, donate, or advocate, you can help create a brighter future for our community’s children and families. Together, let’s be the hope that makes a difference.

This letter is featured in the Winter 2024 edition of CASA Connect, CASA of Kent County’s quarterly newsletter. Click here to view a pdf version of this newsletter.