As a therapist at Family Counseling Service in Aurora, Quintin Ingram not only listens to stories of struggle and resilience but tries to access resources for clients as they face mental health challenges.
But words and references, he realized, are not always enough.
And so, the 26-year-old licensed social worker took direct action: He came up with the idea to create a small, accessible pantry within the nonprofit’s downtown office, allowing those who use Family Counseling Service to leave a therapy session not only with emotional support but with tangible resources.
Proving once again that big accomplishments often come from little initiatives.
This project did indeed start small – a single gray tote placed in the downtown lobby of Family Counseling Service, where staff members could donate toys for the kids of families struggling with everyday hardships.
The response was so overwhelming, Ingram told me, it only made sense to expand the idea to include the basic needs most of us take for granted, like food, clothing, hygiene products and small appliances.
As the response continued to grow, maintenance technician Mario Velazquez stepped up to build a dedicated room, complete with shelving and clothing racks, that is easily accessible to clients.
“If we have more than what we can handle, the goal is to take it to other food pantries … push it out to the community to help everybody,” noted Jason Andrade, vice president of Family Counseling Service.
The success of the “Family Donation Closet” – which now includes a second storage room – both surprised and delighted Ingram, a graduate of East Aurora High School, Waubonsee Community College and Aurora University, where he received his bachelor’s and master’s degrees in social work.
“I was ecstatic,” Ingram said, referring not only to the outpouring of donations but to the “freedom” he received from Family Counseling Service management to turn an idea into an outreach reality.
When “we see leadership” and “hear ideas like that, we go, ‘Let’s do it,” said Andrade, who noted that when Ingram moved from intern to case manager, the young social worker got a “good perspective” on how important it is to remove barriers that could be a threat to a client’s mental health struggles.
“The whole intent is to remove the stressors. It is hard to address depression if you don’t have enough food or clothing,” Andrade told me. “Now any staffer can walk clients (to the closet) in a safe, respectable way to get whatever they need as often as they need.
“And it matters.”
What also matters is that Ingram, who stood out for his quiet leadership even as a kid, chose to become a licensed social worker, a career that is made up of less than 5% African-American males. That’s critical, noted Andrade, because “we have to represent the community in terms of diversity in order to widen the path for people to come through our doors.”
Ingram doesn’t recall exactly when he wanted to work in a field that, as his boss pointed out, will “never produce fame or fortune.”
When pushed for an answer, the young man – low key and known for his humbleness – admitted he always knew he wanted to help others, especially those in his community. And there’s little doubt after talking to him that he has no intention of stopping with just one outreach project in one location.
“One-hundred percent, he has a servant’s heart,” said Andrade. “Quintin was a bright East Aurora student who stayed in Aurora and is doing something for his community that is real and is making a difference.”
dcrosby@tribpub.com
