foster
Foster care makes all the difference in the life of a young child that's been neglected or rescued from harm's way.
Was I Lucky To Have Two Mothers?
I had a mother forty years older than me, but never a blood father. I have since discovered where my father is, and I don't care. My birth mother Margaret, although intelligent was given a terrible hand with the abundance of illnesses she experienced in her life, apparently from a young age. This is because she had a beautiful mother, although a violent father, mainly because of PTSD from fighting in wars. As a result, he somehow had a curse towards women, and idolised men. My grandmother had a brutal time, having to go to the pub each pay day, to ensure that he doesn't spend his entire pay on alcohol. The family were hungry beyond measure at times (being my birth mother, and her two brothers.)
By Justine Crowley5 years ago in Families
A non-Mom, still a Boss Mom
“I’m a non-mom, as all of us who do this work are non-parents.” I just looked at her waiting for her to explain. We had only just met, I walked through the door of the house on the farthest right plot on Miodrzewiowa Street. I got off at the bus stop and walked as per her instructions in our email exchange. The autumn leaves were already beginning to pave a colorful glistering carpet, I caught the eye of a big colorful rabbit. I knew I was in the right place.
By Anna Kopacz5 years ago in Families
Patty Brown
Alone in her room, while her roommate was away at work, wept a young black woman. Her feet and legs ached from work, herself. Five hours at the gas station after an early morning shift at the restaurant for the third day in a row left her very tired. She was exhausted, but she could not sleep. She laid there on her bed, staring at the ceiling and counting the endless ticks from the clock in the living room.
By Felicia Ramos Kreye5 years ago in Families
I Will Stand on the Moon and Watch You Circle the Globe
Ms. Eleanor lived down the hall. The first time I saw her it was Halloween. I’d just had two cavities filled, and I was not in the mood for candy collecting, but Mr. and Mrs. Smith asked me to take David and Lily. They were okay kids. They never hassled me about being black in a white family. They had parents. I had someone to remind me about homework, to care about when I went to bed, and to take me to the dentist. I was a foster kid. I knew I wasn’t one of them. I wasn’t a Smith, but that was okay.
By Olivia Lee Stogner5 years ago in Families
The Trash Bag Kid Confessionals pt. 2
We drove silently from the Metropolitan Methodist Hospital in downtown San Antonio, Texas to the South side where the big red brick building I learned to loathe was located. That building being the Texas Department of Family Protective Services main office in San Antonio. We walked into the doors and I distinctly remember the stale smell of urine filled diapers from the trashcan and mildew. We checked in and the Case worker wrote my name on a name tag sticker that had the word visitor and date pre printed on it and stuck it to my shirt gently. I followed her to the elevator and she looked at me as she pressed the up button and said as kindly as possible "Don't worry, we are just going to help you Mother get you both home as soon as she can sweet heart...". I remember clutching onto my newborn's car seat even tighter in hopes that she wouldn't take him away from me too. It's strange how even now when I think about all this I remember feeling more like Mom had been taken away from me rather than the other way around.
By Rachel (Rage) Schuyler5 years ago in Families
2005 And Me
As I pulled up to the house on Prospect Avenue I immediately felt at home. It looked small from the outside, but when I looked up I noticed that the house had a second floor, and a basement down below. It sat right next door to a mini church. Which made interesting conversation on Sunday afternoon. The steps stood out to me because they were blue and kind of curved. I grabbed my bag form the car and I headed in the house. It was the middle of the day and the house was empty. All the guys were either at work or at school.
By Sakoli Norman 5 years ago in Families
How the Foster System Uses Children
Probably one of the most notorious examples that you may find stands prominently amongst the rest, in firm testament of just how negatively the system could impact a child, to the point where this was normalized. The child we are talking about is no doubt, successful in her endeavors today and whom many hope continues writing; her name- Cupcake Brown. Author of A Piece of Cake she was seemingly just another case in the California Foster system, but a beautiful and vibrant character in the book, you'd think it was a novel. An uncovered truth with a strong voice; too wild to be fiction! Her character grew up in LA under her mother and known to be father who had cared and assisted financial in every way a father should. When her mother died, things truly took a turn for the worst. She knew immediately what death was, and the foster system is no place for a smart child-to witness it's shortcomings. She left weeks after being place, following her rape by an employee of the foster mother Diane, skipped on telling her prior absentee biological father and never looked back. The rest is equally tragic, several home changes, electricity stealing, drug dealing and coping behaviors resulted in a couple of incidences resulting in jail, prostitution and addiction; not to mention a couple of trips to the clinic for terminations of pregnancy. She was also, a 'lucky one' who found her calling in family law.
By Dawn Dillon 5 years ago in Families
Why I Want to Foster Teenagers
When I was a little girl, I was convinced I would marry at 20, and have five kids before I was 30. I dreamed of marrying young, having a large family, and being a stay-at-home mom. (Maybe that's why it took me forever to figure out my dream career ... I never thought I would really need one.)
By Katie Dawn5 years ago in Families
