When we celebrated Aaron’s five-year anniversary earlier this month, it felt less like a milestone and more like a quiet (and teary-eyed) moment to reflect. Five years isn’t flashy, and it doesn’t come with a trophy or an award. But in the world of long-term, professional mentoring, five years represents something really powerful: consistency.

Aaron didn’t originally set out to become a professional mentor. He went to school to be a teacher and quickly realized that what energized him most wasn’t curriculum design or classroom instruction — it was the relational side of education. The conversations before and after class. The moments when a young person feels truly seen.

Before joining Friends, Aaron worked with teens in the juvenile justice system in Eugene, including time in a residential facility that served youth stepping down from detention. The work was meaningful, but often reactive. By the time youth entered the program, a crisis had already unfolded, and usually it wasn’t the first.

Learning about Friends’ long-term model shifted something for him.“Walking into a job that was proactive instead of reactive was mind-blowing to me,” Aaron says. He had already seen the downstream effects of Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) up close. The idea that you could work further upstream building steady, trusted relationships early on and potentially change that trajectory was exciting.

That difference — proactive versus reactive — has shaped the way he approaches mentoring every day.“

Our relationships grow deeper roots,” Aaron notes.

Aaron often talks about predictability. Not rigid rules, but steady rhythms. Small habits that build structure and trust. Youth know what to expect when they’re with him. They know he will follow through. They know he isn’t going anywhere.

And over time, those small consistencies matter.

One of Aaron’s fifth graders recently decided he wanted to focus on having a healthier body. Together, they started learning about nutrition — breaking down what different foods do and how they fuel the body. They began cooing, going to the gym, focusing on proper form and confidence. One day, instead of the gym, they decided to hike up Pilot Butte.

On that hike, Aaron overheard something that stopped him.“

I can do this. Almost there.

”It wasn’t loud or performative — just a young person quietly encouraging himself.

For Aaron, that moment said more than any progress report could.

At home, that same youth started doing 100 squats every night — carefully, with good form, thanks to Aaron (and YouTube). They created a charting system together to track goals and celebrate follow-through. But the real growth wasn’t just physical. It was internal. It was ownership.

“Hearing him say, ‘I want a healthier body,’ is wild,” Aaron reflects. “He used to not want to do anything like that.”

On another part of his roster is a first grader who once struggled to stay in school. Before finding stability, he had been asked to leave five different schools. Today, he’s in the same classroom — and doing incredibly well.

He’s still energetic and full of personality. But now he’s learning how to take space when he feels overwhelmed. He’s practicing coping skills. He’s building confidence in his ability to manage big emotions. Academically, he’s excelling in math and steadily improving in reading — huge growth in just one year.

That kind of change doesn’t happen overnight. It happens because someone stays.

Aaron’s work with middle school youth looks different, but the foundation is the same. With one sixth grader, conversations have shifted toward friendships, identity, and the complexities of growing up. They talk about music. They listen to some of the same songs. There’s talk of starting a rock band. Guitar club at school. Dreams that feel a little more tangible.

“These are the moments I love,” Aaron says. “When you see them stepping into who they’re becoming.”Aaron’s commitment to this work is personal. Growing up, he experienced challenges of his own and remembers what it felt like to need someone steady and trustworthy.

“I wanted kids to have someone to love and trust,” he says.

Five years in, that desire hasn’t changed. If anything, it’s deepened.

Professional mentoring at Friends of the Children is built on time. Relationships strengthen year after year — not just during moments of crisis, but through everyday life. Homework help. Gym sessions. Hikes. Music. Laughter. Hard conversations. Goal-setting.

Aaron believes growth happens in those ordinary moments.

Taking the trash out of the car without being asked during drop-offs.
Following through on commitments.
Adjusting goals when needed.
Learning that discipline can feel steady and supportive — not something to fear.

The impact isn’t always dramatic. Often, it’s subtle. A pause before reacting. A healthier choice. A new dream forming.

Over five years, those small shifts add up.

As Aaron looks ahead to the next five years, he isn’t focused on accolades. He’s focused on continuing to show up — week after week, season after season — so that the youth in his care know they have someone steady beside them.

In a world where so much can feel uncertain, that kind of consistency matters.

It’s how trust is built.
It’s how confidence grows.
It’s how young people develop the roots they need to weather whatever comes next.