CHANGING THE LIVES OF CHILDREN IN FOSTER CARE
- Amy Lynn-Cramer
- Jun 17
- 7 min read
Local volunteers advocate for youth in crisis
By Amy Lynn-Cramer

In communities like ours, where daily life moves through school pickups, coffee shop conversations, neighborhood gatherings and familiar routines, children navigating foster care are part of the everyday fabric of community life.
One of the biggest misconceptions surrounding foster care is the belief that it exists somewhere else, says Marla Higginbotham, executive director of Court Appointed Special Advocates (CASA) Essex County. “People don’t believe it’s in their community,” she says. “But it is.”
Children enter foster care after experiencing circumstances that make it unsafe for them to remain at home, often carrying little more than a backpack. Housing changes. Schools change. Routines disappear. “There’s very little consistency,” Higginbotham says.
Honoring 40 years of advocacy, that quiet reality is exactly why CASA Essex County exists.
CASA, a nationwide organization, trains and supports volunteers who advocate for children navigating the foster care system. Appointed by family court judges, CASA advocates serve as a consistent presence in a child’s life, helping ensure they are seen, heard and supported during a period often marked by significant change and uncertainty.
Volunteers undergo extensive training before being assigned a case, learning about the child welfare system, trauma, court procedures, educational advocacy and how to support children and families experiencing crisis, says Higginbotham.
Advocates typically commit to working with a child for at least 18 months. They spend several hours each week checking in, attending court hearings and gathering information from teachers, therapists, doctors, caregivers and social workers, while building a trusting relationship with the child. They provide recommendations directly to the court to help judges make informed decisions about placement, education, services and long-term stability.
“We are a constant in the child’s life,” Higginbotham says. For a child who has learned not to rely on adults, that consistency can change their trajectory.
For one young woman in Essex County, it meant finding someone who stayed.
When Courtney Anderson entered foster care as a teenager, life was marked by instability, changing placements and a growing distrust of adults. By the time she was 18, she felt overwhelmed by the number of professionals involved in her case: caseworkers, therapists, lawyers and program staff. Yet she still felt unheard.
“Everybody had a role,” she says. “But I felt like nobody was really hearing me.”

Feeling lost within the system, Anderson remembers asking for someone who could help guide her “almost like a life coach,” she says. “Someone who would genuinely look out for me.”
Anderson was matched with Maplewood resident Joy Peskin through CASA Essex County. As their relationship developed, Anderson says she began to understand what made CASA different.
“With a CASA, you can voice how you feel, and they won’t judge you,” she says.
Although Anderson officially aged out of the CASA program at 21, the relationship did not end.
Peskin remembers being nervous before they met. Anderson was her first CASA case, though not her first experience mentoring youth. What she didn’t expect was how quickly the connection would feel genuine.
“She was engageable,” Peskin says. “We started having really great, honest conversations right away.”
For decades, Peskin had volunteered with young people throughout New York City experiencing homelessness, incarceration and instability. “What I was really drawn to [with CASA] was the opportunity to focus deeply on one child and build a relationship,” she says.

Their conversations quickly moved beyond surface-level small talk into deeper discussions about race, trust, family and lived experience.
Anderson admits she initially felt uncertain opening up to a white advocate. “What if I tell you I’m having a bad hair day?” Anderson jokes. “Are you going to understand that?”
Instead of avoiding those differences, they talked openly about them.
“I believe the only thing that will save this country is people getting to know each other across differences,” Peskin says. “Across racial difference, generation, socioeconomic difference. Let’s actually get to know each other.”
Over time, trust grew. But not without resistance. “I pushed everybody away,” Anderson says. “I just felt like, growing up in the system, people didn’t have my best interest in mind.”
Peskin kept showing up, even when Anderson changed phone numbers, when life became chaotic and when it would have been easier to disappear.
“She always found a way to get in contact with me,” Anderson says. “That’s when I knew Joy was going to stick by my side forever.”
Peskin remembers one winter meeting at a diner in Newark just before Christmas. Temperatures had dropped below 10 degrees that day, yet Anderson arrived wearing only a tank top, sweatpants and slides. When Peskin asked whether she had a coat, Anderson admitted she could not afford one.
In her next court report, Peskin requested additional funds so Anderson could purchase winter clothing. Initially, the request was denied by the Division of Child Protection and Permanency. But the judge intervened and ordered the funds be provided.
“I can’t solve the foster care problem in this country,” Peskin says. “But I can help get a coat for a teenager who’s cold in the winter. And that really matters.”
Peskin says that one of the most difficult parts of foster care for young people can be the court process itself. “You enter the system because adults failed you,” she says. “But over time, it can start to feel like you’re the one on trial.”
During court hearings, Peskin made a point to advocate not only for Anderson’s needs but for the judge to see her strengths as well. “I always tried to talk about the good things Courtney was doing,” Peskin says. “I wanted the court to see the promising young woman she already was.”
After becoming pregnant at 19, she bounced between shelters and temporary housing while trying to prepare for motherhood. But alongside the instability was something else: determination.
“She doesn’t quit,” Peskin says. “When Courtney wants something, she commits.”
When Anderson applied for a highly competitive housing program for young mothers aging out of foster care, Peskin helped her prepare for the interview process by practicing questions with her, building her confidence and encouraging her through moments of uncertainty.
That persistence eventually helped Anderson secure one of the final spots in the program. Today, she lives there with her son, continuing to work toward nursing school and long-term stability, while Peskin remains one of the steady constants in her life.
“I don’t want my life without Courtney in it,” Peskin says.
That kind of encouragement and consistency can be transformative.
“That’s why advocates matter,” says longtime Maplewood resident Ed Schwarz, who has witnessed it firsthand.
Before becoming a CASA Essex County board member, Schwarz spent years serving as an advocate himself. A Newark native, who later taught in the city’s public schools, Schwarz became involved with CASA after searching for a meaningful way to support vulnerable children locally.
As a CASA advocate, Schwarz was assigned to cases involving children navigating profound instability, trauma, abuse and neglect – some of which made headlines across New Jersey.
Among them was a heartbreaking case involving three severely abused children, in which Schwarz served as a CASA advocate for one of the two surviving siblings. The case exposed devastating failures within New Jersey’s child welfare system.
Cases like this intensified public scrutiny surrounding child protection in New Jersey and became part of a broader reckoning that ultimately led to sweeping statewide reform, including the creation of the New Jersey Department of Children and Families and the restructuring of the former Division of Youth and Family Services, now known as Child Protection and Permanency.
Schwarz says “advocacy is often found in quieter moments too – decisions that may never make headlines, yet can still alter the trajectory of a child’s life.”
Years later, Schwarz was still advocating for that same child.
By then, the boy was living in a Bergen County group home and preparing to move into a foster placement in Newark. After visiting the prospective foster family, Schwarz became concerned about what uprooting him from his existing school and support system could mean.
“He was thriving where he was,” Schwarz recalls. “I kept thinking, if we move him now, everything changes.”
Schwarz advocated in court for the boy to remain in his current school despite the foster placement move. The judge agreed, arranging transportation so the child could continue attending the same school and maintain the stability, routine and support system that had helped him begin to thrive.
For Schwarz, both cases reinforced the same painful reality: “Abuse and neglect are not confined to one zip code, economic background or neighborhood.”
And too often, children navigating those circumstances feel invisible.
“These are children who need somebody paying attention,” he says. “Somebody asking questions. Somebody showing up consistently.”
According to Schwarz, the impact of that kind of presence is undeniable. “We save lives, really.”
That may ultimately be the most powerful thing about CASA. “Advocacy is not about having all the answers or changing someone’s life overnight,” says Higginbotham. “It’s about relationships. It’s about showing up consistently enough for a child to finally believe they matter.”
Maplewood resident Charles Hammer, another CASA advocate, says he has been able to be an advocate while having a full-time job and a family. He says that CASA matches volunteers with cases that fit the volunteer’s life.
“Even if it’s just a few hours a month, the point is to be a consistent presence in the child’s life,” Hammer says. “So many things change in their lives. So much trauma. They need a friendly face every month.”
For advocates like Hammer, Peskin, and Schwarz, that kind of impact starts with something surprisingly simple: showing up. “If people feel frustrated by the world or don’t know what to do next,” Peskin says, “do this.”
Anderson agrees. “Some youth just need someone to lean on,” she says. “Someone by their side that they know won’t ever leave.”
Foster care may be a silent presence in our communities. But advocacy doesn’t have to be loud to change a life. Sometimes, it simply looks like staying.
WAYS YOU CAN SUPPORT CASA CASA Essex County offers multiple ways for the SOMA community to support children navigating foster care.
WALK WITH CASA! Sunday, June 28 at 9 a.m. 40th Anniversary Walk-a-Thon at the Clipper Pavillion Reservoir Walking Path in West Orange. One of the organization’s largest annual community events, this walk-a-thon raises awareness and critical funding for CASA Essex County’s advocacy programs and the children they serve. For more information, visit casaessex.org |
Amy Lynn-Cramer is a health & life coach who helps people navigate career transitions, leadership growth and workplace culture with clarity and confidence.

