“I wanted something different for my life than what was prescribed for me,” says Miriam Connolly. Connolly grew up in Flint with her mother and siblings. “Our family had a lot of love and very little money. When I turned 18, the expectation was that I’d apply for welfare benefits and maybe start working.” But Connolly knew she wanted something different for her life. So she defied her mother’s wishes and enlisted in the Marine Corps. “It was my way to go to college, to change the narrative prescribed for me.”
She remembers that the Corps “was a huge change. I’d never been out of Michigan. Flint had been pretty segregated. I knew very few people from other cultures. In the Corps, I met people from all over the world. I was a field radio operator and learned about communication. But I also experienced a deep camaraderie and came to understand what it means to take care of one another on a team.”
Connolly soon married a fellow Marine. The Corps would not station the couple together (they also wanted children) so Connolly spent most of her eight years in the Marines in the reserves.
After the Marines, she returned to Flint with her family — and did indeed spend a short time on welfare. She could not get college support from the GI Bill, as she had been in the reserves and her pregnancies had made her unavailable to go overseas. (USMC rules have since changed.) Determined to go to school, she enrolled in Mott Community College and from there transferred to UM-Flint, attending part time while working a job and caring for her family. “By this time, I had discovered social work and knew that could be my way of helping families like my own. My classes at UM-Flint really challenged me to explore ideas that up to then had been black and white, like race, culture, my identity as a mom and especially as a person receiving welfare benefits. I wasn’t defined by what I received but what I did in the world.”
While an undergrad, Connolly took a job as a receptionist in a clinic, in order to explore becoming a therapist. A clinician there advised that, if she wanted to learn about social work, she should look at working within the foster care system. Connolly took this advice and found her calling working with the Department of Health and Human Services. “It was hard work,” she says today, “but I loved it. Working with children and families to find support, stability and healing was humbling and rewarding. My superpower was being able to separate the person from the behavior, to meet people where they were.”
Connolly came to the U-M School of Social Work for her MSW in 2000. She completed her master’s in four years, commuting from Flint. Then, recently divorced and ready for a new start, she moved to Ann Arbor with her children. Still passionate about foster care, she took a job with the Washtenaw County Department of Health and Human Services, first in foster care and then in recruiting and licensing foster homes. “I could be really creative,” she remembers. “I wanted to rethink how we were training and supporting foster parents and relative caregivers. Individualizing training and intensifying supports meant more effective homes and fewer placement changes for youth.”
Connolly found she was making a difference.
In 2015, Connolly heard of a part-time position at U-M, coaching students with foster care experience. The role, she says, was life-changing. “Partnering with young adults to navigate and maximize their college experience was a new and exciting concept for me,” she says. “The Blavin Scholars are remarkable students who don’t allow their pasts to define them.”
In 2009, Paul Blavin (Ross School of Business ’86), and his wife, Amy, established a scholarship fund to support U-M undergraduates with foster care experience. Soon after, the Blavin Scholars Program was created within the U-M Dean of Students office. It was originally led by School of Social Work field faculty member Rachel Naasko. Connolly took on the role of program director in 2016. At that time, fewer than 5 percent of students with foster care experience had been finishing their undergraduate degrees; Connolly’s mission was once again to help change a narrative.
“Instead of telling students what to do,” Connolly says, “I partner with them to meet their goals. The foster care experience leaves gaps in a young person’s life. We work to fill those gaps. This includes providing coaching, life skills training and a U-M staff or faculty mentor who can help them navigate the college experience and can add social capital to their lives.” (Lynn Videka, dean of the School of Social Work, is a Blavin Scholars mentor.) This holistic support has now translated into a 90 percent graduation rate among those students.
“What makes me a good person for this role is my commitment to always having student voice at the center of everything we do. I understand the importance of not doing for, not doing to, but doing with.”
In 2016, Connolly was nominated by Rachel Naasko to the School of Social Work’s Board of Governors. She is now the president. “Leading the Board has been amazing!” Connolly says. “It’s powerful seeing what can happen by bringing together this group that’s committed to making the School of Social Work better. We recently created the AlumniFire platform to bring alums together, we offer professional development, we nominate Distinguished Alumni every year and we help students go abroad through the Alumni Board of Governors Scholarship Award. Scholarships are invaluable. Many students couldn’t attend without support. I know firsthand the power additional support can bring,” says Connolly.
Connolly has accomplished a great deal on her journey. She’s written her own story, creating change in her own life as well as those she’s served. Many young people anxious about their prospects in higher education have found support from the program she helped to grow. Many more can be grateful for her advocacy for children and families in Genesee and Washtenaw counties. Connolly has met her goal of changing the narrative and notes there’s so much more to write.
Nonetheless, when she spoke to Ongoing near the end of 2020, Connolly had to acknowledge some continuous challenges: “This has been a tough year,” she said. “Events this year have pulled back a curtain on a level of racism and hatred that our personal achievements and striving can fool us into believing isn’t constantly there. You’re told if you work hard, do well in school and get a great job, you’ve arrived. Then you’re reminded that there are people in the world who see you as a threat or a nothing, not mattering. But, I’m also reminded of the change agents, the social workers and colleagues at the U-M and the School of Social Work who show up and put in the work to make sure every student leaves with a better understanding of what it means to treat each other with dignity and respect.
“We make changes in waves,” Connolly says. “Student cohorts learn, grow and contribute a bit of their humanity as they move into the world.”