When children can’t remain safely with their parents, placing them with relatives, known as kinship care, is often seen as the next best thing. And in many ways, it is. Children get to stay connected to their identity, culture, and people who already know and love them. There’s comfort in familiar faces, family traditions, and a shared history.
But kinship care isn’t all sunshine and silver linings. Too often, we celebrate the “positives” without fully acknowledging the complex reality families face when they step in to care for their own.
Kinship care changes everything.
When a grandparent becomes a primary caregiver, they don’t just gain a child, they lose a role. They’re no longer just “grandma” who bakes cookies and spoils the kids; they’re now the disciplinarian, the “cheerleader”, the one up at 2 a.m. with a sick child, or managing IEP meetings and trauma-informed therapists. They are now the “parent.”
Cousins might struggle to understand why “Susie and Johnny” now lives with grandma or auntie while they don’t. Aunts and uncles might feel torn, how do I support my niece without feeling like I’m betraying my brother or sister? What about holidays or family get togethers? Dad or mom can’t be there if Susie and Johnny are there.
Sometimes kin must choose sides, whether they want to or not.
“If I take in my niece, I can’t offer my home to my sister anymore.”
“If I speak up in court about my concerns, will I destroy our family forever?”
“If I parent my grandchild, what does that say about the child I raised?”
For many caregivers, there’s a deep and quiet grief that goes unspoken. Grandparents may silently wonder: Where did we go wrong? Relatives may feel isolated, judged, or even unsupported by their own extended families.
This is the emotional landscape of kinship care, equal parts love and loss.
As Court Appointed Special Advocates, we must honor the bravery and love it takes for relatives to say “yes” to caregiving. But we must also give space to the grief, the complex decisions, and the family dynamics that shift in profound and often painful ways.
Permanency with kin is not the end of the story, it’s the beginning of a new chapter.
We sometimes talk about “permanency” as if it’s a finish line. The case closes, the child is with family, and we check the box. But for families stepping into kinship care, permanency is not the end. It’s a beginning, often one filled with new routines, new roles, and new challenges.
It can mean learning how to parent again at age 65. It can mean navigating trauma-driven behaviors without training. It can mean rebuilding trust between fractured family members, while also maintaining boundaries for safety and healing.
For the child, too, permanency with kin can bring both comfort and confusion. They might feel secure being with grandma or uncle, but they may still long for their parents, or feel guilty about why things had to change.
For everyone involved, this new chapter requires grace, support, and time. Healing doesn’t come just because a placement becomes permanent. In fact, sometimes that’s when the real work of healing begins.
So as Court Appointed Special Advocates, let’s continue to celebrate when children are able to remain within their family circles, but let’s also be the ones who hold space for the grief, the growth, and the ongoing complexity that kinship care brings.
Because permanency isn’t just about placement, it’s about supporting the people who are stepping into forever.
