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Miodrag Hadži Milutinović, 35 
Physical education teacher, previously worked in a maximum-security prison, caregiver at the “Jovan Jovanović Zmaj” Home for children and youth, Belgrade, Serbia. Member of the Mountain Rescue Service of Serbia.

You made a significant change in your profession, from working in a maximum-security prison to working with children in residential care. How has your previous experience influenced the way you work today?
People are often surprised when they hear about my previous job. One would think that working in a prison and working with children have nothing in common. However, my experience has taught me that in both places behaviour is only one part of the story.
When you work with people, whether they are adults in prison or children in residential care, you soon realise that if you only respond to behaviour, you miss the person behind it. There is almost always a story of pain, disappointment, loss or difficult life experiences that others do not see.
The important difference is that the adults I worked with in prison were there because of choices they had made. The children I work with today did not choose where they were born, the neglect they experienced or the trauma they carry with them. They are still discovering who they are and what their future might look like. That gives us an opportunity and a responsibility to help them believe in themselves and make different choices.
Structure has always been important in my own life. My father was a military officer and he himself grew up in residential care. From him I learned discipline, responsibility and the importance of keeping your word. Seeing what my father achieved despite his own childhood taught me that a difficult start in life does not have to define a person's future.
Children need warmth, understanding and freedom, but they also need clear boundaries and adults they can trust. I believe those two things should always go together.

What do you believe children living in residential care need most?
If I had to answer in one word, I would say love.
Children need education, stability and opportunities, but before all of that they need to know that someone genuinely cares about them. They need adults who are present, who listen without judgement and who continue to be there even when things become difficult. Sometimes children express that need in ways you never forget.
I remember a young boy asking me whether I believed in God. I told him that I did. I said that I believe there is something greater than us watching over the world and encouraging us to become good people.
After a moment of silence, he quietly said, “I would like to go to God.”
Trying to make the conversation a little lighter, I smiled and replied, “There is plenty of time for that. Let's not rush.”
Then he looked at me and said, “I want to go so I can see my mother.”
There are moments when you stop thinking as a professional and simply respond as another human being. Even after all my years of professional experience, hearing those words affected me deeply. That conversation reminded me that behind children's behaviour there is often something very simple: a child who misses someone they love.
Children often do not know how to say, “I need help.” That is why we need to normalise asking for support.
In my own family, we went through a difficult period when a close family member struggled with addiction. We sought family therapy because we needed help. It made a real difference. For many years, asking for professional support was considered a taboo. People were afraid of what others might think. Fortunately, that is slowly changing, but we still have a long way to go.
I want to give that message to the children in my care: don't be ashamed to ask for support. Sometimes we all need it. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign of strength.

Nature and sport are an important part of your work. Why are these experiences so important for children?
Nature has always been part of my life. I enjoy hiking, climbing and outdoor sports. It feels completely natural to share those interests with the children.
Whenever possible, we leave the residential home behind and go to a climbing wall or spend time at Ada Ciganlija, where we cycle together. I often just put on my roller skates and join them: we explore, laugh and spend time together outside.
For me, these are not special programmes. They are the kind of ordinary experiences every child should have.
Children living in residential care often spend much of their lives inside the walls. Going outdoors gives them freedom, movement and new experiences. It also allows relationships to develop naturally. I often tell people that children do not always need more things. Very often they simply need more experiences.
Most of the time, I do not want to be the person giving orders. Of course, there are moments when I have to set limits, but that is only a small part of my work. The rest of the time I try to be someone they can trust. Someone who spends time with them, encourages them and enjoys being with them.
Many of these activities are organised without additional funding. Nobody else was organising them, so I decided to do it myself. As a member of the Mountain Rescue Service of Serbia, I already have access to many outdoor organisations and activities. I try to use those connections to create opportunities for the children as well.
The biggest challenges are funding, transport and the regulations around transporting children. Many activities cost money and there is often no budget available, so organising even a simple trip can be difficult. That means I have to be creative.
Fortunately, there are many good people in Serbia. When they understand why these experiences matter, they often want to help. Outdoor organisations, sports clubs, boat owners on the Sava and Danube and many others regularly let the children join activities free of charge or offer practical support. It reminds us that a community can make an enormous difference in the lives of children.

 

What have the children you work with taught you over the years?
Working in prison taught me how to build a wall around my emotions. Over time I became emotionally numb. It was my way of coping – I felt frozen.
When I started working in residential care, I remember arriving on my motorcycle and the children were immediately curious. It helped me connect with them as a young caregiver and become a positive role model from the very beginning.
They helped me break down that emotional wall. Especially the younger children brought back the empathy I had almost lost in my previous job.
I do not want to be just another authority figure. Most of the time I try to be like an older brother. Someone they trust and enjoy spending time with, while also preparing them for life.

5. From your experience, what should someone know before choosing to work with children and young people in residential care?
Professional knowledge is important, but relationships are what children remember.
For example, I don't want to spend all day telling children what they can't do. Children in residential care often have to become independent much earlier than children growing up in their own families. They need to learn responsibility, make their own decisions and develop practical life skills, and I help them with that.
But we schould never underestimate the importance of ordinary moments.
A bicycle ride, a walk through nature, climbing together, sitting down for a conversation or simply showing up when you promised you would. These moments may seem ordinary to us, but they can become extraordinary for a child who has experienced loss, rejection or instability.
Sometimes I just put on my roller skates and off we go.
If we can give children love, trust, clear boundaries and the opportunity to experience an ordinary childhood, we give them something no report or programme can ever replace.
That is what I believe this work is really about.