We are living through extraordinary and uncertain times. Since the presidential election, it has felt like an unrelenting tide of challenges, each demanding our attention, our energy, and our conviction. The days of passivity are behind us, and for good reason. While these times are undeniably difficult, it is also shaping a more resilient and determined community of leaders, providers and advocates. We are meeting families and serving youth with a creativity that rises to meet the moment. We are expanding our capacity in real time, adapting to circumstances that seem to shift daily. And through it all, we are drawing clear boundaries to protect our well-being, even as the world around us feels chaotic and unfamiliar.

There is a special group of people I want to acknowledge: peer advocates. They have faced moments of despair and hardship that many cannot imagine, all while navigating systems that are deeply inequitable and often unyielding. Peer advocates understand this moment we find ourselves in because they have already lived it firsthand. The challenges, constant pivoting, daily daunting news, frustrations, and barriers that are now unfolding on a national scale are not new to them. They have carried these burdens in their own lives. They have known the gaps in care, the stigma, and the neglect.
Because of their lived experience, peer advocates bring an unmatched depth of insight and empathy. They don’t just see the cracks in the system. They know where the foundation is weak because they have been standing on it. Their voices are not abstract or theoretical; they are grounded in reality, shaped by personal struggle and survival. It’s widely known that peer advocates often have to fight for every inch of ground just to be taken seriously. But there is no job on earth that wouldn’t take relevant experience into account. Their perspectives are not only valid — they are essential.
Every organization that serves people should have peer advocates on their team. Too often, those in need find themselves face-to-face with someone who has never walked in their shoes — offering advice or passing judgment on situations they can’t truly understand. In moments when compassion is most needed, they are instead met with coldness. Peer advocates bring something different. They recognize the needs of others because those needs were once their own. Their presence transforms services from transactional to transformational. Peer advocates not only deserve a seat at the table, but they should be compensated for the time, insight, and effort they invest in improving our organizations. They are a worthy investment. They have the capacity to lead departments, offer meaningful feedback, strengthen practices, and help implement policies that are grounded in person-centered, trauma-informed, and culturally responsive care. Their lived experience is not a limitation. It is a leadership asset.
Where systems build up, peers build across. Systems often rise as rigid structures — hierarchies, rules, and protocols that can create barriers between people. Peers, however, bridge those gaps. They connect lived experiences across differences, forging relationships based on shared understanding and trust. The truth is, if you want to truly elevate any community, you must do more than acknowledge its strengths. You have to also face its struggles head-on. Strength and struggle exist side by side; peers move through this complexity naturally. If you were to ask a lion about the desert, their perspective would be very different from that of an antelope. Both move through the same harsh landscape, but from entirely different vantage points. The antelope can tell you where it’s dangerous to go, where it’s safe to drink, how to protect your young, and what survival truly looks like. The lion might speak to some of the same realities, but the experience is not the same.
For too long, our systems have relied on lions to tell antelopes how to survive. And if we are not intentional, we risk elevating the stories of “powerful” systems over the voices of “vulnerable” people. When the lion tells the story, we hear of strength and success. When the antelope speaks, we begin to understand what it means to move through the world with caution, memory, and quiet resilience. Both stories carry truth, but only one has mastered the art of survival on the run. The lion’s story is valid, but it does not represent the full reality of the desert. And let’s be clear: the antelope is not a victim. The antelope is strong, willful, collective, and smart.
The truth is, we have always relied on peers to do the hard work that moves movements forward. From sponsors in recovery communities to mentors in academic settings, peers share their experience to guide others along a similar path, offering tools, insight, and connections for success. In child welfare policy, we rely on advocates with lived experience to share their personal stories of time spent in foster care. We ask them to inform decision makers about what is truly happening within their constituencies. The hope is that while policymakers hear data, statistics, and legislative reports all day, hearing directly from someone who has lived through the system offers a powerful reminder. These stories bring humanity to the process and should guide the development of policies that shape the lives of the next generation of youth.
To the organizations that already integrate peer advocates into their structures, bravo. You are not only creating meaningful pathways to employment and career advancement, but are also affirming the value and legitimacy of their work. Call them peer advocates, peer specialists, lived experts, storytellers, or agents of narrative change. No matter the title, the truth remains the same. Throughout history and across every field, peers have been essential to building movements and creating lasting change. When we prioritize the voices and stories of those most impacted by systems, we lay the foundation for long-term change rather than short-term fixes.


