When I was 10 years old, my mother took in two foster children. She was a natural carer; she’d worked as a nanny before I was born and was always looking after children. Once she had children of her own, she wanted to do something that would allow her to be at home with us. Looking after foster children was the perfect fit for her skillset and personality.

And so these two boys, about a year younger than me, came to live with us and very quickly that turned into very brotherly relationships. I was obviously more fortunate than them in terms of my level of education, empathy and the environment in which I’d been brought up, so naturally they looked up to me. I soon realized it was a big responsibility.

The first of many foster children we’d take on, the boys stayed with us for almost three years before they returned to their biological parents. I’m saying that like it’s a long time, which unfortunately, within the system, it is.

It was sad in a way, because it would have been in their best interests to stay with our family, where they were loved and secure. Instead, they went back to a family that had been broken. It’s good for the state and the system, but for the child in the long run? I’m not sure.

Fostering love and understanding

Although I was not a foster child myself, the foster care experience made an indelible contribution to my professional life. Being an older sibling enhances your sense of responsibility and leadership, but that was amplified living with children who were very impressionable and looking for role models.

I’ve always been curious about how that experience would manifest itself later in life for the foster children themselves, which is how I came to meet Ava Walker, the Founder and CEO of Beyond Our Kin (formerly Arts Film & Goods Pantry Foundation), which provides foster youth in Los Angeles with emotional support, employment opportunities and resources.

A former foster child, Walker’s experience was marked with turbulence and even homelessness – very different to the children I lived with.

“I was a newborn when I entered the foster system,” she recalls. “I was a drug-addict baby. The nurse fostered me right out of the hospital.”

When she was four years old, Walker’s aunt tracked her down in foster care and took her young niece to live with her. Eventually however, Walker was returned to the foster system where she stayed until the age of 18.

“My aunt was on my father’s side, so I was able to connect with his family, which was really great,” Walker says. “I’d see my mother sometimes, but only now and again; nothing like a proper relationship. It was hard.”

Walker’s experiences left her as a very angry and lost little girl.

“I never smiled and never talked. There wasn’t anything to smile about and there was nothing to say,” she says. “If it wasn’t for my friends when I was a kid and their families… I’ll be forever grateful to them for taking me in during some of the hardest times in my life.”

Some of the children that came to stay with my family were destructive. They were violent or aggressive, and we’d have to call the social workers to have them picked up immediately. In Walker’s experience, that anger was a result of not fully understanding the situation.

“I realized that I wasn’t wanted by my mother, which was the source of my anger,” Walker says. “I felt like nobody understood, nobody could. It seemed as if everybody had a mother and I was left to figure out life on my own. That kind of pain is emotionally critical to a child.”

What broke the cycle of anger for Walker was when she turned 18 and became too old for the foster care system. Leaving it meant she was able to work on creating a stable future for both her and her young daughter. Later came understanding of not only her experiences but those of other youngsters who go through the care system.

“The foster system is full of statistics,” she says. “There are 400,000 foster youths in the United States with more than 25,000 children in foster care in Los Angeles. More than a third of them will experience homelessness. Very few go on to attend college, and I wanted to be one of them. I wanted to become victorious and not a victim of what I went through.

“I wanted to fight for hope for us. I wanted to advocate on our behalf so that youth all around the world could see a representation of someone who pushed through severe challenges and made it out. And that with faith, grit and perseverance we can change the narrative that comes with these statistics.”

At 18, Walker’s biological mother had inadvertently given her some good advice.

“I’d asked her why she didn’t want me, why she couldn’t empathize with her child,” she recalls. “She told me she didn’t owe me any explanation for what she did, that she’d done her part by bringing me into the world and that now I was grown, my life was what I made it.”

Since then, those words have been a part of Walker’s driving force in life, creating what she describes as ‘hyper-resilience’.

“I became my own superhero at such a young age,” she says. “That’s not something I’m always comfortable with but it worked out well for me. Sometimes I dream of resting for a week or a month straight but this isn’t about just me anymore. I have lots of work to do to positively impact underprivileged youth. And that’s what fuels my drive.”

Shouldering responsibility

In her mother’s absence was a series of mother figures who taught Walker the ins and outs of life.

“A lot of my friends’ parents took me in, and those were the women that taught me so much,” she says. “They’d show me how to wash and fold clothes, how to do the dishes, how to cut an onion, and I’d just be a sponge for that. I learned more with them than I did through my foster homes.”

Walker’s lifelong dream to become a screenwriter helped her through some of her toughest times, and eventually took her to Los Angeles in 2019. There, she was able to apply much of what she’d learnt in her professional pursuits.

“I’m always paying attention to how somebody treats people, always,” she says. “Because when I didn’t have anything, there were great people around who didn’t take advantage of me. They helped me, and that’s a great show of character.”

Ava Walker, Founder and CEO of Beyond Our Kin, and The CEO Magazine’s CEO David Jepson (right) with invaluable supporters from Honda of Downtown Los Angeles, Managing Partner Brad Mugg (left) and Director of Digital Strategy Matt Kellogg (center)

Another important lesson came soon after she became a mother at 16, while still in the foster system.

“I used to run away from my foster homes, but when I had my daughter, I couldn’t run anymore. She needed stability,” she says.

“A social worker told me at the time that if I didn’t run, if I stayed put, there were more opportunities for me than being on the street. It would only hurt myself and my daughter if I ran again. That’s when I got an education and a place to lay our heads. It changed everything.”

Listening to Walker’s story, I recognized a similarly life-changing lesson from my side of the fence. As a business leader, I take responsibility and lead by example, and both traits were formed during my time as a foster carer.

As the eldest child in the house, I quickly learned that if I misbehaved, so would my foster siblings. What I lacked at the time was a defined sense of empathy, something that was also lacking from the foster system as far as the education provided to carers.

“It meant a lot that they had you there,” Walker tells me. “You had more influence than your parents, because kids communicate more freely.”

That was the positive side of it; less so was that I learned to be more transactional in terms of how I build relationships. I could be very cold because when a child you loved leaves, and that happens three or four times, you grow conditioned to be able to just close that door. It’s something I hadn’t really considered until speaking with Walker, and something I’ll continue to work on.

But my family’s duty of care for every child that came through our door still remains a part of my approach to management. Leaders have a duty of care to their staff; they should be able to notice and help if someone’s having problems. It’s difficult to ask businesses to take on that role, however, and it’s something we should be doing as individuals through our own learned compassion and care.

Saying ‘yes’ to the vision

Despite her desire to move on with a Hollywood career, Walker’s own sense of compassion persisted. “This vision just kept coming to me to help foster children, and at first I was against it,” she says. “I thought it would bring up too many emotions, make me relive everything.”

Eventually, after so many dreams, she relented, and the Arts Film & Goods Pantry was born. “I just said ‘yes’ to the vision. I knew I was destined to do it. And that was a week before the COVID-19 pandemic happened,” she says.

When the pandemic hit, Walker’s thoughts immediately turned to the city’s foster kids. “I felt like they were alone. I put the screenwriting aside, but it didn’t bother me. I was doing something I felt was needed. Who’s helping them? If not me, then who?”

The resourcefulness Walker developed during her time as a foster youth enabled her to reach out to her industry contacts to start building a support network, particularly for the delivery of hygiene items. “They needed sanitizer and masks, but also things like deodorant, tissues and dishwashing liquid,” she says. “I struggled with those things, so I wanted to make sure other kids never had to struggle for it.”

Four years later, that seed has grown into a foundation with a mission to help Los Angeles’ foster kids thrive.

“My next movement is housing,” Walker says. “At the moment, foster care is the birth of homelessness because of how they’re treated once they age out. A big percentage of Los Angeles’ homeless is foster youth, so by providing housing you not only reduce homelessness, you create more creators that can do so many things around the city.”

Walker says she doesn’t ask for money to help the foundation’s cause, she asks for things.

“I always want people to know that I’m doing this for absolutely nothing,” she says. “And there’s nothing that will keep me from doing what I’m doing.”

Making a difference

With the business now rebranded as Beyond Our Kin, Walker’s focus on staying clear to its mission is clearer than ever, thanks in part to supporters who she’s met along the way.

“Beyond Our Kin is dedicated to enhancing the social and emotional wellbeing of foster youth by providing holistic support and transformative programs,” she explains. “Our mission is to inspire these youths to overcome challenges, discover their unique strengths and thrive in all aspects of life. In order to do that successfully, I needed help.

“When you came in, David, as a former foster care brother, the time, passion and energy you devoted to restructuring, bringing in resources and knowledge was invaluable. When I felt heavy headed, you reassured me of our why and got me back on course.”

Additional support from people including Carma Lacy, Sara Danisz, Jacques Roux, and institutions such as Ducere University, were brought in to help build out the organization, which made a tremendous impact, borne from a shared passion.

“Let me tell you this was not easy,” Walker insists. “But it was worth every sleepless night and every ounce of grit. Now we look forward to decades of empowering foster youth to unleash their potential and flourish beyond adversity.

“The kids need to see that people care. That’s what Beyond Our Kin exists to do; to demonstrate that we care about their future and their wellbeing.”

The very existence of Beyond Our Kin, coupled with Walker’s regular visits to group homes, and partnership with Honda of Downtown Los Angeles to provide job training and employment opportunities, is a beacon of hope for Los Angeles’ foster youth.

“They come away from these visits knowing that someone is caring for them, that someone understands where they come from but that they can create a beautiful and successful future for themselves. Those moments have been the highlight of my journey,” she says.

Speaking with Walker made me reconsider my time as a carer through the lens of my career. She took charge of a situation that at first seemed beyond control and in the process became an incredibly engaged, happy and driven woman.

In light of Walker’s story, I’m excited to be able to help connect her with business leaders who could help grow Beyond Our Kin, and to be able to reflect on how my experience has shaped – and could further enhance – my leadership style today.

With a movie about her life currently in the works, Walker’s story will soon have the chance to touch millions more around the world.

“We are in the early stages of production for the movie with the legendary director Michael Shamberg after one of Beyond Our Kin’s champions, Bracken Darrell, CEO of VF Corporation, introduced me to him,” she says.

“Bracken is also the inspiration behind the rebranded name of our organization because more people should see life beyond themselves, relatives and friends. I’m so grateful. My incredible village of supporters, partners and sponsors is the heart and soul of my journey. Their unwavering dedication and support is the reason I’m often in tears of gratitude.”

The support Walker and Beyond Our Kin has received from the business community means she’s skeptical of the idea that the corporate world is not interested in the issues facing our most vulnerable young people.

“There’s a consensus out there that the business community doesn’t care about the issue,” she says. “I say they absolutely do. Beyond profits and market shares, business professionals have made it their priority to help us leave a permanent mark of hope.

“But for those who haven’t got involved so far, all they have to do is think about their parents and the nurturing, unconditional love and guidance they’ve received from them, and imagine life without that.”

Growing gains

The path to leadership begins with life’s first steps. Childhood experiences, no matter how distant, play a part in determining what kind of leaders we become, says Hareta McMullin, Leadership Coach and Founder of Third Space People.

“The first seven years of our life plays a significant role in shaping who we become as adults,” she says.

“Our value systems, beliefs and sense of self all form during this time. In our first 10–15 years, we develop our moral compass, empathy and the confidence to stand up for what we believe is right. It influences how we connect with others, our level of resilience, how we manage conflict, solve challenges, our bias toward action and the initiative we take to make our ideas reality.”

Keeping the lessons of our youth close can serve us well as we progress. Amanda Sinclair, Professorial Fellow at Melbourne Business School, says even trauma can be channeled into growth.

“The most effective way to channel a traumatic childhood is to be supported, be it professionally and or with other caregivers, to understand it, to learn through supported reflection that we are loved, lovable and whole,” she says.

“Trauma is not to be suppressed, but can foster great growth and a desire to give back.”

McMullin says it’s important to let go of elements that no longer help.

“That looks different for everyone, but could include learning to detach from your ego, learning to respond versus react or shifting from a fixed mindset to a growth mindset,” she says.

Sinclair agrees. “The most effective leaders have a deep appreciation of how their histories, good and bad, have shaped them and given them both vulnerabilities and strengths, which they may, in turn, want to work on,” she explains. “Feeling as though you have to be invincible and do everything as a leader is a dangerous trap.”

Recent research in behavioral economics and related disciplines documents the impact of big and difficult events in leaders’ early years, she adds. “It shows how much that shapes their appetites for risk and their resilience after setbacks,” Sinclair adds. “Although people’s structural circumstances and challenges should never be underestimated, neither should their appetite and capacity to draw on adversity for purpose and inspiration.”

However, we aren’t bound to our destinies. Thanks to emotional intelligence, we still have a say in who we become later in life, in spite of our experiences.

“We all evolve and have a choice to grow into the person we want to be,” McMullin says. “We simply need to want to grow.”

Beyond Our Kin’s fundraising luncheon will be held in Los Angeles on 19 October 2024, aiming to increase awareness of the challenges facing foster youth and to raise funds to expand the number of foster youth the organization serves. For more information about donating, partnership and sponsorship opportunities or volunteering, go to www.beyondourkin.org