The Comfort and Cost of Familiarity
By Yolanda (Jolie) Francis, Residential Manager
Yolanda (Jolie) Francis, Residential Manager
Yolanda (Jolie) began her Career at George Junior Republic as a Behavioral Health Technician in ISU2 in December 2023. In September of 2024 She transitioned into the role of Residential Manager. The following year she became a Certified CARE instructor, a Translator for all of George Junior Republic including Indiana and Ohio, and a Certified First Aid/CPR/AED Instructor.
Before joining George Junior Republic, Jolie was a Respiratory Therapist at a level one trauma hospital and worked in the Emergency room and Covid unit during the pandemic. She also served in the United States Army and is a war veteran, deploying to Iraq in 2003-2004.
Jolie plans to continue to grow professionally where she can with George Junior Republic and plans on retiring from there.
I have a child who came to my unit a couple of months ago. From our first interaction, he reminded me of some of my family members — in the way he spoke and carried himself. He immediately let his guard down and felt comfortable talking to me, and I believe it had to do with our shared culture: we are both Puerto Rican. Everything was going well, and I could tell he felt, in a sense, at home whenever I was around.
About a week later, when the “honeymoon phase” was over, things got real. The reality of being far from family and settling into such a foreign environment began to sink in for him, and he started to shut down. The attitude appeared, the talking back began, and no matter what I tried, he wasn’t willing to hear anything I had to say. I was confused about what I might have done to make him react that way toward me. We had a connection — or so I thought. I assumed he was being defiant or trying to prove something.
Then one night, he refused to check back into his room at bedtime. He was yelling and throwing things in the hallway. I asked him to stop, but he didn’t. The more I tried to talk to him, the less he listened. Eventually, I stepped back and let my partner handle it. That night, I went home and decided to reset the next day and try again.
Later that same night, TTC sent me a message explaining the reason for his reaction: I reminded him of his mother. When he was upset, and I tried to talk to him, he didn’t want to hear it. The louder he got, the louder I got — and my accent made it worse. It was the first time I had experienced something like this with any of our youth. I never imagined my accent could be a trigger. What had helped us connect in the beginning ended up being the same thing that pushed him away.
We talked, and I apologized for causing any negative emotions or triggers, even though my intention was only to help. He told me I reminded him of home — something he deeply missed.
From that moment on, my approach changed. I realized that while I can’t change my accent, I can change my tone.