Kai’s Speech at the AV Room Briefing #CareDay25

“It’s an honour to be here today, especially because I get to speak about something that’s very close to my heart – Care Day. A day where we not only celebrate the achievements of care-experienced people but also stand together to say, “We’ve got this,” and “We’re ready to challenge the stigma we’ve grown up hearing.” 

I’m standing here today as someone who has experienced the highs and lows of growing up in residential care. I didn’t always have the luxury of a family to rely on, no one to fall back on when things got tough. I moved through different homes, different systems, and felt at times like I was invisible. I didn’t have a traditional safety net, no steady place to call home, no stable support network, and no idea what the future was going to look like for me. I had no control over my life, no choice on where I called home, or who cared for me each day. Through the difficulties associated with growing up in care, and trying to learn to live with my trauma, I dropped out of school, not always being able to face the day, never mind actually participating in the day. For me, I thought that was it, I thought I’d never get anywhere in life, never heal, never find my feet, never know stability, kindness or continued unconditional support. 

When I first started college, I had someone tell me to ‘not put too much pressure on myself, I needed to mind myself and be aware I probably wouldn’t make it anyway because of growing up in residential care. Three years later, I’m nearing the end of my degree, have moved out of homeless services into my forever home and brought a lovable, but potentially crazy rescue cat into my life. Together, we’re creating a family, and a place where we can both call home, and know that we’re both safe, and can sleep at night not wondering where we are going next. 

I wouldn’t have made it this far, or become the man I am without the people I’ve been lucky to meet through my life, the residential staff members that shone a light during my darkest days, the friends that made me laugh on the days I couldn’t fathom a smile, the homeless staff who made sure there was always someone there I could talk to, or crack a stupid joke when the weight of the world was on my shoulders, the therapist that never gives up on me, even when every session fills the room with pain, and of course, EPIC, and the wider care community who are responsible for showing me care experienced people are capable. If someday I take over the world, now you know who to blame! This is to say, without these people and their support, and many more, who went above and beyond for me too, I wouldn’t be the person I am.  

Care Day is an important reminder that we, the care-experienced, are not a monolithic group defined solely by our past. It’s our time to tell the world: we’re not just survivors—we’re dreamers, achievers, and future leaders. And if we get the right support, we will absolutely crush it. Trust me, the potential is there, and it’s waiting to be unleashed. But we need the tools to do that. 

For too long, we’ve been seen as people who need to be “fixed.” As if growing up in care is some sort of permanent flaw, a mark that sticks to us forever. But let me tell you something: We are not defined by our past. We are not defined by where we’ve come from, or by the system we grew up in. We are defined by our ability to rise. We are defined by our drive to push forward, even when the odds are stacked against us. And if we’re given the right opportunities, we are capable of achieving anything. 

Care Day is our chance to stand up and say, “We’ve got this.” It’s our chance to show the world that we’re not just survivors—we’re warriors. We’re not just making it through; we’re building the future. And we’re not asking for pity. We’re asking for a fair shot. We’re asking for support, a level playing field. 

And that brings me to why Care Day matters. It’s a day to celebrate what we’ve already achieved, but it’s also a reminder that there’s still more work to be done. The truth is, growing up in care can feel like you’re playing a game where the rules keep changing. You don’t get to rely on your family for advice or support—you learn how to do it on your own, which is… well, let’s just say it builds character. And by character, I mean it builds resilience 

You see, it’s all about a few key things: safe and stable care placements, ongoing, consistent support through our care journeys and into aftercare, housing, education, mental health support, and the belief that we matter. We need access to a stable place to live, not just a roof over our heads but a home that’s ours, where we can build our futures. We need education opportunities that we’re supported in, that aren’t out of reach, and we need mental health services that actually understand the journey we’ve been on. We need to be supported to find our feet and figure life out as we move on from care, support that is not determined by our engagement with education. Education is valuable, yes, but we’ve faced things that the average 18 year old couldn’t imagine, we lack the same support they have, and are often still learning to heal. Education is not always our top priority leaving care, some of us are trying so hard just to learn how to survive. For us, we were trying so hard just to survive, while  our peers were given the time to grow and dream, and figure out what they want. Our support should not be solely dependent on educational attendance. And most importantly, we need people to believe in us, to listen to us— to not see us as charity cases, but as future doctors, business owners, teachers, social care workers and yes, maybe even politicians. 

We’re not asking for handouts—we’re asking for opportunities. And let’s be real, when care-experienced people get opportunities, we don’t just take them—we seize them, we run with them, and we make something amazing happen. Look at me. Look at all of us. We’ve been through the fire, and now we’re shining. Not because life was easy, but because we know how to get back up after we fall. And believe me, we’ve had a lot of practice. 

So, to the government, I say: please don’t let us be the best-kept secret. Don’t let us keep proving that we’re capable despite the odds—help us prove it because of the support you give us. We need your help, but we don’t need your pity. What we need is fair policies, consistent support, and the resources to make sure we can do what we were born to do: change the world. 

And finally, on Care Day, let’s remember that we’re not just a group of people who’ve had a tough start. We’re not statistics. We’re not problems to be solved. We are strong, capable individuals, and with your help, we can do anything. 

So, here’s to the care-experienced people around the world: we may not have had the easiest start, but we’ve got some big dreams and we’ve got the grit to back them up. And with just a little bit of support, we’ll show you exactly what we can do.”