Alex Nunn

I felt this in my soul. When I was taken into care, at the age of 1, I was separated from my brothers and moved from Toxteth - a diverse area of Liverpool - to Halewood - a part of Knowsley that was more than 99% white, a place where I was chased, beaten, and taunted for being Black. When I was taken into care, I lost so much more than my family. I lost my culture, my history, and the protection of my community. Like Louise, I tried to shrink and hide myself, starting with my hair. I relaxed my hair from the age of 9 because I was tired of people touching it and making fun of it. It took years for me to learn to embrace who I was, to learn about my history, culture, and identity - which is probably why I'm so unwavering about those things now - and I was well into my 20s before I threw the relaxer away! As an adult, I have chosen to research the educational journeys of care experienced young people for my PhD. While it's great to see the increasing academic interest in the outcomes for care experienced people - outcomes like the care to prison and homelessness pipeline that had, at one time seemed inevitable - it's clear that a lot more research is needed on the intersections of care and race. To be Black and in care is to experience a whole different level of compound discrimination. To Louise, I say this ⬇️ I don't know you, but I see you, and i see what you've been up against. I spent most of my childhood in care, my birth mum died at 14, and I crashed out of school after failing most of my GCSE's at 16. I was homeless a few months later and went down a dark path for a while. By 19, I had a baby boy, and everyone told me I was nothing and that I was going nowhere fast. But my baby boy was the making of me. I fought for him, dreamed for him and climbed for him. I worked 2 jobs, studied at night school, and got apprenticeships and secondments by day. I gained promotions at work and got the qualifications that allowed me to go to university. Over the past 6 years I have gained a first class degree, masters with distinction, I've had my writing published by Bloomsbury, had my work performed on stage and given keynotes speeches to sold out events up and down the country. I'm a lecturer and Halewood's first Black Woman Town Councillor. But none of that makes me as proud as yesterday did. Yesterday, the boy I hoped to raise higher than me got his GCSE results. He passed his GCSE's and is going to study at his first choice sixth form. He is the first person in my family to do this, and to say I am proud would be an understatement. I recently did a podcast about some of my experience in care. The host asked me what I would go back to say to my 16 year old self and I was, momentarily, unable to speak. 16 year old me had no voice. She was a broken shell of a person who would, in a few months' time, try to take her own future away. She had no idea what she was capable of or what she would go on to achieve. I wish I could go back and show her the 16 year old King she raised and tell her exactly what she was capable of. To you Louise, I say this. You are a force to be reckoned with. You are raising a Queen and changing the world. Your lived experience will give you the strength and empathy to achieve anything. You are capable of moving mountains and I believe that you will. Louise, you have got this 👑 @Become1992