If you had asked me years ago what the most important question was to ask a new family, I probably would have answered with something clinical.

"What concerns brought you here?"

"What behaviours are you seeing?"

"What goals do you have for your child?"

Those are all important questions, and as a Behaviour Analyst, they're questions I still ask.

But today, they're no longer the first questions I ask.

The first question I want to ask is much simpler.

"Tell me about what matters most to your family."

Ironically, I didn't learn the importance of that question through my career.

I learned it by becoming a foster parent.

Because every family has a story.

The Things You Can't Find in a File

Over the years, children have come into our home carrying far more than a backpack.

They've carried traditions.

They've carried memories.

They've carried favourite foods that reminded them of home.

They've carried songs, languages, prayers, routines, and stories that connected them to the people they love.

They've also carried loss.

Sometimes they've lost their home.

Sometimes they've lost their routines.

Sometimes they've lost the people they see every day.

Sometimes they've lost the sense of belonging that every child deserves.

When so much has already changed, the smallest pieces of familiarity can become incredibly important.

A favourite meal.

A particular way of celebrating.

A language spoken at the dinner table.

A tradition that might seem ordinary to someone else but feels like home to them.

None of those things show up on an assessment.

Yet every one of them matters.

Those aren't just preferences.

They're pieces of identity.

And if we aren't careful, those are the very pieces we risk overlooking when we become too focused on goals, behaviour plans, and checklists.

That realization has made me a better foster parent.

It has also made me a better Behaviour Analyst.

Culture Lives in the Everyday

When people hear the word culture, they often think about holidays, festivals, traditional clothing, or language.

Those are certainly parts of culture.

But culture also lives in the ordinary.

It's how your family gathers around the dinner table.

It's the recipes that have been passed down through generations.

It's the way grandparents are greeted.

It's the music playing while dinner is being made.

It's the values your children hear every single day.

It's the traditions that make a house feel like home.

It's woven into everyday life.

And because it's so ordinary to the people living it, they may not even think to tell us about it unless we ask.

Sometimes a Behaviour Isn't a Behaviour at All

As Behaviour Analysts, we're trained to observe behaviour.

It's what we do.

But fostering has taught me that before I ask, "Should we teach something different?" I first need to ask,

Take something as simple as eating.

If you've never experienced that before, it might seem unusual.

But unusual doesn't mean wrong.

After all, many of us eat pizza, sandwiches, hamburgers, tacos, fries, and chicken wings with our hands every day without giving it a second thought.

Imagine a child entering our care who naturally eats rice with their hands, and our immediate instinct is to teach them to use a fork because that's what feels "appropriate" to us.

Without intending to, we may be communicating something much deeper than table manners.

"The way your family eats is wrong."

"The traditions you grew up with don't belong here."

"To fit in, you need to become more like us."

That's a powerful message for a child who may already be trying to make sense of a world that has changed around them.

Now, does that mean we never teach new skills?

Not at all.

There may absolutely be environments where using utensils is expected, and teaching children how to navigate different social settings is an important life skill.

But there is an important distinction between adding a skill and replacing an identity.

Teaching a child when to use a fork expands their flexibility.

Teaching them that the way their family has always eaten is somehow "wrong" risks replacing belonging with shame.

That distinction has changed the way I practice.

Curiosity Before Assumption

One of the greatest lessons fostering has taught me is that most people genuinely want to help.

Teachers.

Therapists.

Social workers.

Physicians.

Behaviour Analysts.

The vast majority care deeply about children and families.

But caring and understanding aren't always the same thing.

Sometimes we make assumptions without realizing it.

We assume what feels familiar to us is familiar to everyone.

We assume our traditions are simply "normal."

We assume that if something is different, it must be improved.

Most of those assumptions aren't made with bad intentions.

They're made because we haven't yet had the opportunity to learn another perspective.

That's why curiosity matters so much.

Curiosity asks before it advises.

Curiosity listens before it teaches.

Curiosity makes space for families to share who they are instead of feeling like they need to explain or defend themselves.

What Fostering Has Taught Me About Behaviour Analysis

It has reminded me that children belong to histories that began long before they walked into my office or my home.

It has reminded me that families are experts on their own lives.

Evidence-based practice matters.

Research matters.

Clinical expertise matters.

But so do family values.

So do traditions.

So do lived experiences.

The strongest support happens when we bring those two forms of expertise together.

Not professional expertise over family expertise.

Not family expertise over professional expertise.

Together.

As partners.

Seeing the Family, Not Just the File

Today, before I think about goals...

Before I think about interventions...

Before I think about behaviour...

I want to understand the people sitting across from me.

I want to know what brings them joy.

What gives them strength.

What comforts them after a difficult day.

What traditions they hope their children will carry into adulthood.

What makes their family feel like home.

Because meaningful support doesn't begin with a diagnosis.

It begins with a relationship.

It begins with curiosity.

It begins with recognizing that every family brings wisdom, traditions, strengths, and experiences that deserve to be understood…not simply accommodated.

So whether I'm sitting around my kitchen table as a foster parent or across from a family as a Behaviour Analyst, I hope I never stop asking the question that changed the way I see people.

I have a feeling the answer will teach me far more than I could ever learn from a file.

And perhaps that's where the best support has always begun.

*Alisha Hasan, MSc, BCBA, is CEO & Co-Founder of Carebü. She is a Board Certified Behavior Analyst with extensive experience supporting children with autism and developmental differences through family-centered, evidence-based care.