Hunter Calhoun was only 10-years-old when the state came for him. Not because he was abused. Not because he was starving. Not because he was abandoned. But because the system trusted a bitter man’s lies more than a mother’s love.

His mother, like so many others, had fallen into addiction after being legally prescribed opioids. It didn’t happen overnight. She was a good mother, present, protective, and always made sure Hunter had what he needed. But when she became dependent on the medication meant to help her, a door opened for someone with a grudge to step in and do permanent damage.

That someone was Hunter’s biological father, a man no longer part of their daily lives but still very much fueled by resentment. He began making report after report to DHR, spinning false narratives about neglect and abuse. Though unsubstantiated, the persistence paid off. The system showed up, and instead of investigating with fairness, they branded Hunter’s mother as a danger.

What followed was years of trauma that no child should ever endure.

Despite her addiction, Hunter’s mother fought back. Kinship placement was bypassed from the beginning. She got clean. She entered treatment programs. She followed the court’s orders, completed every class, and checked every box. But with each step forward, DHR moved the goalposts. They added new tasks, increased the restrictions, canceled or limited her visits, and made reunification a dangling carrot that was never truly within reach.

Eventually, they terminated her parental rights, not because she failed to change, but because the system didn’t want her to win. Hunter was never given the chance to return home, even after watching his mother transform her life right before his eyes.

Instead, he was bounced from home to home. Over 20 placements by the time he aged out. Foster homes, group homes, emergency placements. Some kind, others cold. He was offered psychiatric medications, encouraged to suppress his anger, and pushed into silence when all he wanted was the truth to be heard: “I want to go home.”

But no one listened.

At 18, he aged out of foster care alone, disconnected, and still holding the weight of a broken system on his back. But Hunter didn’t give up. Through a few solid friendships and mentors who saw his talent, he began to rebuild his life. He discovered a gift in computer and logo design and turned it into a career.

He also found love. For the past six years, Hunter has been married to a woman who has stood beside him with unwavering support. Together, they have built a strong, faith-filled family rooted in healing, resilience, and joy. Along with his loving wife of six years, Hunter is now raising a son of his own in a home defined by the very thing he was denied for so long: peace.

And then, the most beautiful part of his story began to unfold. He found his mother.

As soon as he could, Hunter searched for her. When he found her, she was alive, well, and still holding on to hope. The years they lost can never be returned, but their bond has only deepened. Today, they are fully reunited. Hunter, his mother, his wife, and son now live together in a home filled with love, laughter, and healing.

His mother plays an active role in helping raise her grandchild, creating new memories and mending old wounds. Every moment is now centered around family, peace, and a quiet kind of joy that comes from finally being together after so many years apart.

Now, at 25, Hunter Calhoun is using his story to expose the very system that failed him. He is one of the many who didn’t just survive the foster system. He is rising above it, using his voice to shine light in places many are too afraid to look.

He stands not only for himself but for the thousands of children who are still trapped in a cycle of forced separation, misdiagnosis, and institutional neglect. For the mothers who were treated like criminals instead of survivors. For the families the system tried to erase.

His journey is far from over. But today, we honor him. His courage. His creativity. His refusal to stay silent.

Hunter Calhoun is more than a survivor. He is a light in the dark.