16/10/2026
Dear Community,
How did it feel when you were young, when your mother, an aunt, or someone else in the community labeled you as bad, useless, or not good enough? Did it make you want to try harder, or did it make you feel like giving up?
At We Care, we believe something fundamental: a mother can have her baby and make her dreams come true as well. We work side-by-side with young moms to help them build a future, believing in them every step of the way because we know that love and determination can change a life.
But we cannot do that alone.
Because we see the damage happening out there every single day. If people in our community keep labeling our kids—telling them they are fat, they are ugly, they are this, they are that, and that they are going to amount to nothing—they are actively breaking our kids down.
When you tear a child down like that day after day, they start to believe it. They go and sleep with people because someone already told them they are worthless, so they feel, "Why would I be anything more?"
Our children are internalizing these cruel labels and accepting futures that were forced onto them by other people's words.
Jesus taught us a powerful truth: that only the one who is without sin has the right to cast the first stone. Yet so often, we are quick to judge, label, and throw stones at the very children who need our grace and guidance the most.
So we are making a direct plea to our community: can everyone please stop labeling our kids?
Stop tearing them down. Start building them up. Because until we change how we speak to and treat our youth, we will keep fighting an uphill battle against cycles that we have the power to break.
Let's start speaking life into our children instead.
With hope and determination,
The We Care Team
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Yesterday we took little Dot to visit her mother, and both Nicky and I struggled all afternoon to put into words what we witnessed, or even to identify the emotion it left behind.
There was the long drive with this tiny baby, making sure she was comfortable and safe. And then there was her mother. A young girl, still a child herself, whose face lit up with absolute joy when she saw her daughter. The love in her eyes was unmistakable.
And then she said something that we cannot stop thinking about: “Don’t worry, when I was a baby, I was also taken away. My siblings too.” A child comforting her own child with a story of separation that has somehow become normal in her world.
There is something profoundly heartbreaking about that. Generations of poverty, children having children, school years cut short, opportunities that never existed in the first place, and a system that intervenes when things fall apart but so often fails to prevent them from falling apart.
We are so quick to judge young mothers, to question their choices, their circumstances, their ability to care for their children, but how much choice is there really when you are born into a cycle that has already determined so much of your future?
Yesterday there was no judgement. Only an overwhelming sense of compassion, sadness and the realisation that something is terribly wrong, because the love was there. It was beautiful and undeniable. Unfortunately love alone cannot undo systemic poverty, generational trauma or the absence of opportunity.
And perhaps the hardest part of yesterday was recognising that there were two vulnerable children in that room. One tiny baby who needs protecting, and one young mother who, not so long ago, needed exactly the same.
We speak so often about breaking the cycle. Yesterday was a reminder of just how deep that cycle runs, and how much more we need to do to give children a genuinely different future.
