When Supports Fall Away, Families Can’t Stand Alone

I yelled at my kid this morning. It started with an uncapped bottle of Pepsi—me reminding them to screw the top on, seconds later watching a sticky, nasty mess seep into the couch cushions. I was tired, I was frustrated, and I yelled.

I could line up a thousand reasons for my short fuse: ten sleepless weeks after hip surgery that left me in more pain than healed, chronic pain that’s become my unwelcome daily companion, and the pressure to create magical summer memories for my kids while navigating my own health challenges. Beyond my own battles, there’s the worry I carry for friends, for neighbors, for families living on the edge. I'm on edge waiting to see what happens with the "Big, Beautiful Bill". But excuses don’t change the fact that I raised my voice. My partner swooped in—sent me out to the deck with a coffee—and gave me the space to breathe. I called my mom. I vented. She listened, understanding that parenting isn't always sunshine and rainbows. When I came back inside, I hugged my child and said I was sorry.

As I sat on that deck watching steam curl from my mug, my mind shifted from sticky floors to the parents whose challenges tower over mine. Day after day, families balance work shifts, school pickups, doctor visits, and the endless “what-ifs.” With groceries, rent, gas, and childcare prices climbing, every paycheck feels like a high-wire act. Undocumented families face an added terror—one call away from deportation, with no safety net and no lawyer to lean on. In that world, uttering “I’m struggling” can feel as perilous as staying silent.

Why Removing Kids Isn’t the Solution

When supports vanish—whether through lost benefits, closed community centers, or overburdened social services—the impulse can be to remove children from their homes “for their safety.” But trauma-informed care teaches us that separation often inflicts deeper wounds than the hardships families endure. A child’s world is their family’s world. Rip them away from siblings, from the rhythm of home, and you risk compounding injury on top of injury. True protection comes from reinforcing the family unit, not breaking it apart.

The Power of a Village

No one was meant to parent in isolation. Across cultures and history, communities have come together to cradle each other in times of need. That network—whether it’s family, friends, neighbors, or local organizations—is a lifeline when:

• A parent is one paycheck away from eviction

• A single mom needs someone to babysit after a long hospital shift

• An undocumented family hesitates to seek help, fearing deportation

• A household faces an eviction notice and can’t fill the fridge.

Having someone to call and say, “Things are hard right now,” restores hope. Being able to unload your fears—about bills, about safety, about whether your kids will wake up in your home tomorrow—can be as vital as that next meal.

How You Can Make a Difference

Look around your neighborhood, your school, your church, or your online community. Someone you know might be drowning in stress. You don’t need a big budget or fancy training to help. Small acts ripple outward:

• Volunteer to take their kids to the park so parents can catch a breather

• Send a grocery gift card or restock their pantry staples

• Offer to drive them to an appointment or stay with their kids for an hour

• Simply ask, “Can I take you out for coffee?” and listen

When we step forward with an open hand, we affirm that struggling is human—and that no one should navigate crisis alone.

The true measure of a community is how it treats its most vulnerable. By refusing to let supports be stripped away—and by stepping in where systems fail—we can keep families intact and children safe. Reach out today. Find the household that needs you. Extend your village, one kind gesture at a time.