For 20+ years, Matt Wolf (Youth Voice Coordinator at Vermont Afterschool Inc.) has helped young people find and amplify their voices to create the change they want to see in their worlds. In his various roles as advocate, program director and clinical case manager, Matt has helped hundreds of Vermont youth navigate the foster care system, manage their mental health and find their voices as powerful advocates, whether speaking to parents or legislators. In addition to his years of experience, Matt also has–and taps into—a unique superpower: his own lived experience. Matt spoke with us recently about his work.

At Living Proof Advocacy, we often describe our role as “the advocates’ advocates.” How do you position yourself in support of young people?

I’m their megaphone and I work FOR them. I tell each of the hundreds of kids I’ve worked with: “Let me know what you want to do—and we’ll go do it. What do you want for your life?” I always have them tell me what they wanted us to do together.

Sometimes they just want to have a better life than the people around them. Sometimes it’s about advocacy and speaking up for change so that kids coming up through the same systems they did won’t have to deal with the same things they did. For example, with foster kids—who are often demonized or treated like they don’t know what they’re talking about—it was my job to help them face a room full of adults and make sure their voice was heard and their perspective was understood in that room.

We imagine that takes a lot of trust.

This is where sharing my own lived experience factors in. 

When I was working with young people and their mental health, I knew the only way to engage with them would be to share my own experience. To connect. I had to lead with my struggles, which involved depression and some substance stuff. I also struggled with suicidal ideation for a good seven years or so. People have also been killing themselves on me since I was 14 years old. I've lost five people to suicide in my life. Even as recently as 2021. Not to mention regular garden-variety death. 

I've struggled with a lot of things in life. And I'm not ashamed of any of it. It's who I am, for better or worse. Perfection is fiction. Our imperfections are often how we connect to other people. They're our tools for building understanding and creating community. 

And the stuff I struggled with is what many of these young people were dealing with too, and what they were supporting each other to get through. I had to be honest about my own experience and my own struggles. Because young people smell bullshit like dogs smell fear. They know when you’re trying too hard, or faking it. You have to be your authentic self. They will respect that.

But we all have different experiences and perspectives. For example, I wasn’t a foster child. I don't know that experience. I’m transparent with them about that. But sharing our experiences helped me understand that while they have a unique experience that I don't understand, I can understand their anxieties and depressions. I totally get that. 

My whole world now is about being supportive by sharing experiences.

Once young People understand how they can connect with others by sharing their lived experience, how do you help them use that power to drive some kind of positive change?

Honestly, that can be tricky. When I started to work with kids in the foster care system I realized they usually go one of two ways: they’ll either shut down and not want to talk about their experience or they’ll share their experiences almost for shock value. Because they’ve had to share the ugliest parts of their lives so many times, with so many people, it almost becomes a spectacle. They want adults to get slapped in the face with the fact that this was their experience—and it hurt. I could see why they would want to share the ugly parts of their lives to cause that shock. Because we judge them like they're bad kids, like they did something. 

So for me, I get them to express those feelings, whatever they are. I encourage them to really dig into those feelings. I tell them: “You can yell, scream, spit, swear, kick and do whatever you want to get your stuff out there.” Then after the ‘kaboom,’ I ask, “So, what would make it better? Do you want to create change for yourself?”

When they say “yes,” then it becomes about advocacy. 

All of those feelings indicate where the passion is. Where the motivation is. You need to get at those and not be afraid of how loud or expressive it gets. That's where passion can turn that experience into something productive.

What we call “pointing to the positive.”

Exactly. People think advocacy means being a pain or being mean. Sometimes there are advocates that shame people and make people feel bad. I believe advocacy is about making friends. Creating understanding. If you shame people into change, they're only making that change once. If you help them understand why, and how it is beneficial, the change lasts. I often ask youth, “If I had walked in the room the first time we met and told you to ‘Sit down, shut up,’ then told you what to do, what would you have done?” Nine times out of ten, they say, “I would have told you to go f*** yourself.”

Right. So, what makes you think adults wouldn't feel the same way? How do you think that’s going to go?

So, what are examples of when youth had found their voices for successful advocacy?

One program I worked for has a youth conference every year for kids who've been involved in the foster care system. For several years in a row, one of the workshops let you talk to a commissioner from the Department of Children and Families. All these kids in the foster care system had an audience and were able to really tell them what their experiences were and how they felt. Some of that resulted in getting a grant to buy luggage, so kids were moving from house to house with luggage–with dignity–instead of trash bags.

And thanks to 60 or 70 young people that showed up at the legislature with prepared speeches, the Youth in Transition program went from operating on a federal grant that was ending to being funded with state dollars and sustained as a program. And we owe that to those youth that stepped up and showed up for us (the adults) that day.