“You may not be interested in politics, but politics is interested in you.” That line resonated with me so much that I put it on a shirt in the Committee of Seventy merch store, and the spirit of it became crystal clear to me and my family as we navigated foster care and the eventual adoption of our daughter.

“Politics” is not just about elections or the horse race. “Politics” shapes our daily lives and leads to the systems of government that we depend on. The choices made by the people we elect will affect you, your family, your neighbors, your community, and your ability to improve your quality of life.

This reality hit home when my husband and I welcomed an infant into our home through the foster care system seven years ago, and finally, officially adopted her last month. That journey brought us face to face with the brokenness of the child welfare system, the complexity of the opioid epidemic, and the experiences of undocumented immigrants right in our own community.

It all started in December 2018, when I received a phone call from the agency we’d worked with a few years before when we adopted our beloved son. They said our son had an eight-month-old sister in foster care and asked if we would consider fostering and potentially adopting her. I said yes without hesitation, and without speaking with my husband (I knew he’d be on board; that’s the guy he is).

What followed was a nearly seven-year journey through systems that were simultaneously broken and essential.

My kids’ birth mother struggled with opioid addiction from the age of 13, cycling through treatment centers and prisons for most of her life. But rather than receiving sustained care, her addiction was criminalized — meaning every service came through a punitive system, never a truly supportive one. My daughter’s birth father was undocumented, which meant that every court appearance hinged on whether a translator showed up — sometimes late, sometimes not at all — and whether a judge understood or was even willing to try to understand the complexities of his case.

Both parents lived in Harrisburg, but she was placed in foster care in Lancaster, and we live in Philadelphia, making something as simple as transferring records a major barrier due to the lack of coordination between the counties. Then add the complexities of a global pandemic that halted in-person visits from social workers and probation officers.

What this experience taught me is just how difficult it is to build systems that truly prioritize keeping families together, meeting the needs of children, and treating people with addiction with compassion and dignity. Our systems are complex and broken, but they don’t have to be. What my family went through reshaped how I see our institutions, and it’s made me far more committed to supporting candidates and policies that not only understand these challenges, but are serious about addressing them.

If we don’t engage with these systems, raise our voices, and hold elected officials accountable on the issues that matter most, we miss the chance to create meaningful change — change that could benefit all of us.

Democracy’s role in our everyday lives

As the President and CEO of the Committee of Seventy — a 121-year-old nonpartisan good government nonprofit organization — I spend a lot of time encouraging people to engage in the democratic process beyond just voting. At Seventy, we understand that our elections and government touch all of us in ways we aren’t even fully aware of, making it essential to meaningfully engage in these systems to create the change we want to see.

How we treat people in addiction, the options we give immigrants seeking a better life, and how we prioritize children who need help are all ultimately policy decisions made by the people we elect.

Take for example the Pennsylvania Department of Human Services, the office that oversees the foster care system. Who decides how much funding they get? If they’re able to hire more case workers or upgrade technology? Who dictates their policies around children whose birth parents suffer from addiction? That’s right, public officials that we voted for, like governor and state representatives.

From my family to yours

If we don’t engage with these systems, raise our voices, and hold elected officials accountable on the issues that matter most, we miss the chance to create meaningful change — change that could benefit all of us. That’s how I had to frame my family’s journey: not just as a personal struggle, but as an opportunity to push for a better system. One that would hopefully create a ripple effect for other families navigating the same challenges.

Initially, I was overwhelmed by the scale and intersections of the issues at play, but I tried to follow the same steps I’ve seen bring about positive change in my day job: I got informed, learned how the system works (and doesn’t work), invited diverse perspectives to inform my thinking, and you better believe I took all of this with me into the voting booth. At Seventy, we call these the habits of highly effective citizens: Vote. Learn how it works. Choose your news wisely. Invite diverse perspectives. And do the next thing.

Beyond elections, there are small ways to make a difference year-round. We compiled “70 Ways to Make a Difference: Your Guide to Civic Action,” a list of 70 actions we can all take when feeling overwhelmed, including things like how to find and contact your elected officials, how to attend a public meeting, and how to run for office yourself.

Remember, you don’t need to do everything. Just do the next thing.

Democracy works better when we earn and hold trust; trust in our elected officials, in the integrity of our systems, and in each other. With each action, you’re declaring that you believe in this system. Take the next step for yourself, your community, and the city we love.

My family’s adoption journey reminded me once again that politics isn’t abstract — it’s personal. It’s about the systems that either support or fail the most vulnerable among us. When we engage, we have the power to make those systems work better for everyone.

Lauren Cristella is President and CEO of Committee of Seventy, a nonprofit that advances representative, ethical and effective government in Philadelphia and Pennsylvania through citizen engagement and public policy advocacy.

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