Random Thoughts From Childhood Series-From Bum to Miss America

June 29, 2009

It was Halloween time and I was in another new foster home. Since it was Trick or Treat time, thoughts of collecting an enormous amount of  candy and dressing up put me in a state of excited anticipation, like a type of euphoria.  At the time, that was like icing on a cake for me as I had a good gut reaction about this family. My new foster mom had told me all about a group I now belonged to called; “Brownies”. I did not know what this was and had never heard of it.  She told such wonderful stories of a sisterhood that I was captivated.  This was my first experience with anything resembling tradition.  Her stories made me feel like I was finally special, a part of a  group that I would belong to just as she had when she was a child. I thought that this was the best thing ever and relished in my first experience of having someone pass something down to me.  I can still hear her voice in my head, as she told those wonderful stories about how she  (and her mother and grandmother) had formed life long bonds of sisterhood.  I felt like I had hit the jack pot with this home!  I would actually have a family and this family would include me in a sisterhood?  WOW.

My first meeting with this new wonderful group would  be a Halloween party and I would meet my new sisters!  I was so excited, anticipation was in over drive. My foster mom said I had to have a costume because this was a costume party! She said that we didn’t have time to go and get an “official costume” so she looked around the house for items to use for an outfit. Wellah! I was a bum! She dressed me up in dirty clothes, added some rips in the material here and there for drama, and then took a charcoal like substance and rubbed it all over my hands and face, creating dirt smudge marks. I had never really had someone take the time to make me a costume so this was amazing to me, a mom who took the time to make me  a costume…heaven! I was feeling pretty good:)

THE PARTY-I rush in anxious to meet my new sisters.  The girls are sitting on the floor in a circle and the leader invites me to sit down and join the circle.  I sit down, I am getting the head to toe stare down, it doesn’t feel warm and fuzzy at all and I feel that hot sensation of anxiety creeping in and taking over.  The troop leader tells everyone to join hands and I sense I am in trouble, I feel scared and I feel shunned, this is not a welcoming group at all (the voice in my head is shouting at me to run screaming).  One by one hands join and embrace around the circle, the embrace makes it’s way to me and I put my hands out and the girls on my right and my left stand up, move closer into the circle and join hands with each other.  I was left sitting outside the circle, the focus of judgment stares of disgust.  The Troop leader yelled at the girls for excluding me and reminded them of the Brownie motto.  I’m sure it was some really compelling Mission Statement type saying but all I heard was “blah….blah….blah” so I can’t share it with you.

Next thing I remember, my foster mom was there to pick me up and I was outside at the curb waiting.  My internal voice had taken over and I had listened when it told me to run screaming.  This was my first and last “Brownie” meeting, I never went back and I was traumatized.  Sisterhood, I didn’t feel it!  My foster mom was very upset to find me outside on the side of the road.  I was scared to tell her what happened fearing she would be dissapponted in me for ruining the tradition of sisterhood.  At first she questioned and I said nothing, thinking silence was safer (this had been my personal experience so far).  Then she grabbed my hand, yanking me towards the Brownie entrance and I started screaming, arms and legs kicking every which way.  Oh god, we are back in that room, those mean girls, those so called sisters are there and they are staring at me.  I am petrified, shaking like some joy ride at the amusement park.  Then it happened….the surprise of all time for me.  My foster mom starts yelling at the group leader and the girls, she demanded to know why; “her little girl was outside in the dark by herself and on the side of the road!”  I watched her closely, monitoring her every move and breathing pattern.  I’m not sure what transpired after this initial confrontation but I can tell you that I never went back to that so called sisterhood and next Halloween, well I was Miss America.

Some individuals over the years have mentioned to me that maybe it was not a good idea to dress a foster child up as a bum for Halloween and that this was the cause for the sisterhood smack down.  I will tell you that I look at it very differently.  This was the first time in my life that someone had ever stuck up for me, said that I deserved to be treated better and demonstrated anger towards those who had shunned me.  Add in that after I told her i didn’t feel pretty as a bum, she dressed me as Miss America for the next costume party!  Ever heard of “a do over!”

Random Thoughts From Childhood-Dark Clouds Building

June 27, 2009

Dark Clouds Building

I was gliding into fall and ready to start the first grade.  A few weeks before school was to start, my brother and I were taken to the office to meet someone.  The adult with us opened a door and asked us to enter.  As I stepped through the door, there standing on the other side of the room was my little brother and sister.  I’ll have to confess that I actually found this to be very awkward.  My little brother was playing with toys and my sister just staring at my brother and me.  I really did not know what to say and was simply confused as to the meaning of the visit.  We only got to spend maybe 45 minutes and then we were asked to leave.  I know the visit was to serve as some kind of therapeutic type meeting, but for me it had the opposite effect.  Up to this point at Ivy House I was so busy adjusting and goofing off that I really had not given the family separation a lot of thought, but after meeting my sister and brother briefly, it became a reminder of what I had lost.  This was the beginning for the internal struggle and loneliness that was going to grip and control me for the foreseeable future.

All the kids at Ivy House waited in front of the office to catch the bus to school.  I boarded the bus and grabbed the first seat available and took in the city sights on the way to school.   I was scared as I entered the classroom and took my seat.  So many firsts for me in such a short time frame, it was all I could do just to try and function normally.  Somehow I made it to recess and right away there are some kids making fun of me.  How is it that the school kids know my predicament?  I told no one and it seems the kids already know!   The first dig thrown out was “Don’t you have a mom or dad?” and “You have no home.”  And as if the first day could not get any worst, a group of older kids take my lunch ticket!  Dam, I hate school!  I dreaded recess and tolerated class time.  My first day came to an end and I was glad to board the bus.  I could not wait to get back to Ivy House.

In the days to follow, I started to ramp up emotionally and had great difficulty controlling them.  I soon realized I did not control my emotions, but instead they controlled me!  I’m not sure what triggered the first event.  I just started tipping tables and chairs inside cottage one and was grabbed by Paul, the acting house parent that day, and could see his lips moving, but could not hear what was coming out of his mouth.  I pulled away and ran out the front door.  Paul and the rest of the kids followed.  Paul chased me around the front lawn, but I kept weaving back and forth and he could not grab me.  At one point he slipped and fell.  All the other kids where egging me on and laughing.  I became tired and headed for a large tree.  I used the tree like a squirrel would do and kept circling it to keep Paul at bay.  I was out of breath and decided to climb the tree to get away.  Just as I grabbed the first branch and went to pull myself up, Paul grabbed my leg and yanked me down.  I was thrown over his shoulder and taken back to the cottage.  All the other kids were hooting and hollering as I was taken inside.   Paul headed down the hall and I thought he was taking me to my room, but instead took me into the bathroom and placed me in the shower and turned on the cold water.  (This would not be my last cold shower) I was told not to come out until I calmed down.   After a few minutes, I turned the cold water off and Paul escorted me to his office at the front entrance of the hallway.  I was asked to explain myself.

I was at a huge disadvantage.  I did not know how to express what was going on with me.  I mean, dam! I only have been speaking for maybe four years and was far from mastering the English language.  On top of that, I had speech impairment!  So I did what only I could do, I shrugged my shoulders and stared at the ground.  I was given permission to leave and headed down to my room to get dry clothes.  The beast within had shown its self and was a prelude for things to come…..

Random Thoughts From Childhood Series-Yet Another Home

June 25, 2009

It was November and I had just encountered another move to a strange home.  My first week in this new home, my little brother and I meet the extended family of our new parents.  Our new parents had no children of their own.  They threw a party, as if to say to their relatives “see, we now also have children” come and meet them!  I had a bad feeling in my gut, like an inner guidance telling me that this was not going to go well.  We met many people, like being on display in the window at the mall, getting the “once over” from many strangers.  The family did not accept us; the other children (cousins, nieces and nephews) made fun of us taunting us with cruel reminders of the obvious; not having “real” parents.  The parents of these children belittled our new parents over us, like some strange competition was going on with in this family.  Our new parents had taken us in to fill a void of some sorts it seemed.  It soon became evident to me that we would not be treated as real members of this family.

Within the hour of meeting this new family, my brother and I are separated into two rooms (our new bedrooms as it turns out).  We are interrogated and beat with a belt over some missing change and a toy being flushed into the bathroom toilet that caused a back-up.  This act was not our doing and I had watched two bratty boys (special because they had real parents) flush that toy and pocket that money but my honest account resulted in a harder whipping.  My word did not mean anything and we spent that night being punished for a crime we did not commit.  I can still see the laughing faces of those two bratty kids peering around the corner as I was beat with the belt.

I think that this home was the 2nd to last home I was in.  The truth is that if you asked me how many foster homes I was in I cannot give you an answer because I only remember the homes that I stayed in for a period of a year or more and there are 4 of those that I can recall.

I don’t harbor any grudges or ill feelings with regard to remembering those homes (even though they didn’t exactly measure up to “quality parenting” standards).

I have always choose to take the best of a situation that exists.  If there is a glimmer of positive, I assure you I will find it.  I would never want others to feel sorry for me because the way I see it, I had a family (when my own deserted me).  I had people take me in (when they had no biological obligation to do so).  These families may have made mistakes but at least they participated with me…front and center, they tried!

Great Foster Care site in Australia

June 22, 2009

I met a great woman from Australia who publishes a site that focuses on foster care , sharing  viewpoints of the foster parents. We found each other on Twitter and I like hearing the perspective of some positive and loving parents who cherish their foster child. Follow link below, check it out and let me know what you think. I invited the site creators to submit articles for posting on this site so our audience can gain insight from another side.

http://www.fostercarer.com.au

Random Thoughts From Childhood-New Surroundings

June 21, 2009

New Surroundings

What was this place called Ivy House on a funny name street called Conshohocken Avenue? The grounds had four buildings made of red brick surrounded by a half stone wall and chain link fence on top of the wall. The main building was at the only entrance into Ivy House and faced Conshohocken Avenue. I called that building the “office.” The other three buildings where set back to the rear of the office, running left to right in a not so straight line. These buildings where referred to as cottages. Moving left to right, cottage three housed the older boys (teens), cottage two was for older girls (preteen and up), and cottage one was coed six years up to twelve years of age. My brother and I would be calling cottage one home…

We arrived just after lunch and where permitted to explore the grounds. I spotted a set of play bars, a concrete play pipe, and a huge tree in an open field next to the office. In kid fashion, I put a b-line in that direction. I crawled through the pipe and swung on the bars, in this superhero type of speed. Then I stood looking up at this massive tree. There was only one thing to do…. Climb it! It was trickier to climb then I first thought. The bark was very smooth and made traction difficult to get up the tree. I made about four feet up into the tree and found myself stuck on a large slippery branch with not a single person in sight to help me get down. I began to cry… Sometime went by before an adult found me and helped me down. I was told the tree was called “The Running Tree.”

I was escorted with my brother to cottage one and as I entered the steel front door it opened into a commons area with a fire place on the right wall, TV on stand, and seating for about a dozen people. As I made it through the entrance, I was taken to the left into the eating area. There were four picnic type tables lining the center of the room. The kitchen was beyond this room, but I was not given a peek of that area. I was then introduced to the two adults that stay on the premises at all times. That was one adult for each hall that was in cottage one. They where referred to as “House Parents.” The first hall I passed was for all girls and the house parent room was at the entrance of the hall. The house parent assigned to the boy’s was named Tony. Tony had curly afro like hair and had a very stern demeanor to him. He escorted my brother and me to our new room. The hall was very long and narrow with all nine rooms on the left side. Our room was on the very end, just past the main bathroom on right. The room was small with a floor to ceiling built-in closet on the right and two small single beds arranged in an L shape. The beds had a single mattress placed inside wooden boxes. We were given sometime alone in our room and then told to come to the kitchen area to eat dinner and meet the other kids. I made my way to the bathroom first and as I was finishing, two kids entered and we just stared at each other. The silence was broken by one of the kids asking me if I “dime.” (Dime is slang for telling on people) Of course I never heard of such a phrase and figured they must be asking if I had a dime. So my response was yes. The two kids ran off down the hall yelling the new kid dimes! By their yelling, I knew my answer was incorrect. My anxiety builds…………

Side Note: Ivy House was actually run by the Salvation Army. I later found out that it was not an orphanage, but designed to provide home like atmosphere for displaced kids. It allowed single parent mothers time to get treatment and recover from whatever their particular issue was (drugs, abusive boyfriend/husband, etc.) and then return the kid to the mother.

Random Thoughts From Childhood Series-The Story

June 20, 2009

The Story…..

The heart and mind of a child is an amazing and wonderful , miraculous thing.  At an early age we are capable of great love, we see the best in everyone, we believe in miracles.  The unbelievable is foreseeable in our loving childish eyes.  We believe every word spoken when it comes from someone we love, a parent, a sibling, someone we trust.  We don’t understand what a lie is, the eyes of innocence do not recognize this.

Looking back on my early days, both in foster care and after foster care I learned so much about humanity.  Truth is an elusive creature, subjective in the eyes of the story teller.  Perception is an individuals perspective, each person has their own and we choose that which makes sense to us.

Some children hold love in their hearts regardless of the abuse they endured, choosing to devote themselves to helping and giving to others while others become bitter and turn their backs on the world.

“To see the best in humanity when childhood showed me it’s worst, this is my greatest gift”

In my last post; “Random Thoughts From Childhood Series-The Day I Came Home” I spoke about the day I learned  my older brothers would not be coming home and was told they went to live with my father.  Imagine all the questions that a child would think of at this point.  A mom and dad and four children, two go with the mom and two go with the dad, what does each parent say to the two children that they have about the other two children going with the other parent?  The two older boys are now in the state of California with their father and the two youngest children are in Pennsylvania with their mother.

What did my parent choose to say?

Your father is a bad man, sneaky and a liar.  (I’m leaving out the curse words).  He tricked me and stole my boys.  The bastard said he wanted to help me out and would take the boys until I got back on my feet.  He said that I would be able to call and speak to them anytime I wanted and that he would send them back to me when I got back on my feet. Next thing I know, he moved and changed his phone number to unlisted.  Then he  filed for custody with the California courts.    I lost because I didn’t show up for court.  I couldn’t pay for a plane ticket, where would I get the money? Your father is sneaky, he knew I didn’t have any money and that I wouldn’t be able to afford to show up in court for the hearing.    Your father stole your brothers from us I don’t even know where they are, can you believe he did that to me?    We don’t need them, he is lucky that he only wanted the two of them and not you and your brother,  (lot’s more curse words)!

As a child I never heard my mother say anything good about my father.  I grew up hearing constant reminders from her about how he didn’t want anything to do with us.   Luckily for me as I got older,  this very thing made me suspicious!

Until next time, keep the faith and remember that there are two sides to every story, see them both and you choose your side!

Random Thoughts From Childhood Series – The Choice

June 12, 2009

Here is the first posting in our new series from my older brother Mat. In this story he recounts events just before and leading up to our separation.  In future articles, please know that our childhood photo will serve as an indicator, letting you know which one of us is telling a particular story.

The Choice

Summer 1972, my brother Danny and I are frolicking in the streets of Philadelphia, PA.  Maybe by mid-morning we’ll hookup with fellow neighborhood kids to play stick ball, head down to the railroad tracks to try and hop a train or wait until noon for the city to open the valve of the corner fire hydrant “a Philadelphia swimming pool” to cool us down.  But first, we need to hit the corner drug store to spend the quarter we had to buy one cent candy.  Thirteen pieces for him and twelve for me.  We sit on the neighbor’s front steps chomping candy and feeling pretty good about our prospects for the day.

Kids are gathering by the corner hydrant waiting for the city truck to pull up and open the valve.  To my surprise a truck rounds the corner and stops at the hydrant. It’s to early I think to myself, around 11am, but indeed it was there to open the valve.  Let the water fun begin!  After stuffing the last piece of candy in my mouth, I run down to get my fill of fun.  Despite the hot day, Danny and I spent so much time in the water that we actually got cold, so both of us decided to go home.   Going home was not easy to do because we never knew what man would be in the house when we got there.

A little history note:  My parents where recently divorced and my Mom had four kids to care for.  She had trouble getting by without “Mother’s little helper” and had a revolving door of men.  One man though would put the fear of god in Danny and me.  His name was John and he like to show up and say “There is going to be a royal ass kicking because I know you did something wrong today while I was not here.”  The beating would begin.  Danny was always first on his list and then it would be my turn.  I never watched while John beat my brother, but really did not have to, as my ears could tell me what I could not see.     Thankfully, he left my little sister and littler brother alone.

As we approached the house, we go into stealth mode until we are sure John was not there.  Today is our lucky day, no John!  We run into the house and grab dry clothes and hit the kitchen hoping there is some food to eat.  No food, but plenty of butter milk in the fridge.  Butter milk was a perk Mom received from one of her many men.  Never really knowing his name, I dubbed him the milk man.  To this day the thought of butter milk turns my stomach.    Without food, I sat down and watched tv until dinner time.  Meatloaf and lima beans and a cold glass of butter milk for dinner.  Yum!  Mom seemed to be agitated during dinner and disappeared upstairs.  After sometime, I headed upstairs to check on her.  As I approached the top of the stairs, she appeared at the top very disoriented and off balance.  I reached out my hand to help her, but this only infuriated her.  She swatted at my out reached hand and lost her balance and tumbled down the stairs slamming into the console tv.  Everything after this was just a blur.  Not really sure how police and paramedics where contacted, but it really did not matter.

A nice man and woman showed up and took Danny and I and placed us in a yellow VW bug.  They where going to show us some places and we where to tell them what we liked.  The first place shown was a church with lots of kids (later realized it was a church run orphanage) kind of nice, but no real fuzzy.  The second place was called Ivy House.  Lots of kids our age running and playing and it just seemed to be really nice.  We where asked what place we liked the best and both Danny and me said Ivy House.  Little did I know at the time, that Danny 8 years of age and me 6 years of age just picked our new home.

Random Thoughts From Childhood Series-The Day I Came Home

June 11, 2009

I was in the third grade and fresh out of foster care. Riding in the front seat of Datsun 2-10 with my mom and little brother. This was the day I had anxiously awaited, going home and being back with my older brothers! My mom had always promised us that she would get the 4 of us back together, she swore on it every time she visited so I just knew that when she picked me and my little brother up that she had also picked up my two older brothers.

Lesson Learned: Assumptions are Dangerous!

We arrived at our new apartment and I tore up the steps, through the front door and ran from room to room calling out. Silence yelled back at me, no sounds of children or laughter, empty. I became consumed with a feeling of dread as the fear of them not coming home hit me. My mother told me that the boys went to live with our dad. I gave her the “death stare”. (all parents know that one) as my mind started racing, and a sense of sorrow was setting in. Thoughts and emotions began to overwhelm me. I was screaming inside at her and then I was yelling out loud; “mom go and get them, take me to his house, I can live with him too”!

As an adult, I think that this must have been just as awful for her as it was for me but speaking as that child….she did not keep her promise, I saw her as a liar and I was filled with rage!

Coming up Next Week………….Stay tuned as I share the story I was told about why they got to live with my father!

New Section-Random Thoughts From Childhood

June 10, 2009

A new blog post category has been added on fostercareinamerica.com.  This new series will be a collaborative effort with my brother Mat.  Each of us will be submitting little snap shot stories of things we remember from childhood.  My older brother Mat, did not spend his early childhood in foster care as I did.  We are from a family of 4 children and when our parents got divorced, the courts awarded custody to our mother.  Any mother on her own with 4 children to raise would certainly have a difficult time.  Unfortunately, our mother did not have the necessary mental capacity or emotional maturity to handle the situation and we were removed from the home.  What happened when social workers showed up to remove us from the house is something that  haunted me for the next 20 years.  I can still vividly see that scene playout  in my mind like watching a movie.  My two older brothers went in one car and my little brother and I went in another.  I was 3 years old and had no idea that the view out the back window of that Volkswagon Bug would be the last time I would see my big brothers.  The older boys went to an orphanage and my little brother and I into foster care.

I spent the next 20 + years wondering, missing, and searching for them and at age 24 I finally found them.  This is of course a whole other story which will follow in the weeks to come so stay tunned!  It’s a teaser, I know!

Serving up Some Inspiration-What Makes the Difference-?

June 4, 2009

Why is it that some who fall down cannot get up while others are slammed repeatedly and refuse to stay down?  I think we all know that person who barely survives a scapped knee, complaining to anyone that will listen and ranting about how terrible life is for them?  Please tell me I am not the only person dealing with a “sissy la la” type personality!  Then you have people like those featured on this site and wonder what makes the difference.  The next time you come accross someone who is focussed on a non deserving pity party…hum, I say please  direct them to this site for a little dose of humility and reality.

Traffic is climbing

June 1, 2009

Good news, May traffic numbers are the highest yet, no doubt a result of the fabulous Foster Care Alumni sharing their stories!

May 2009 Results:

Page views total = 4595

Visits total = 942

Hits total = 13,282

That’s pretty impressive for a site built for an audience that has a reputation for keeping silent don’t you think? Also worth mentioning is that we are seeing traffic/visits from near and far and here are a few locations:

United States

Canada

Czech Republic

India

Australia

This site, not unlike “The Little Engine that Could” will continue striving to bring Silent Warriors into the light of society.

New Resource Page

June 1, 2009

A new page with helpful links to some great websites is now up on http://www.fostercareinamerica.com. The new “Resource Links” page is located in the “About” section of the website. The new resource page can be visited by following this link

Hope For Orphans and Abused Children:

Arkofhopeforchildren.com

Help Prevent Child Abuse:

Childrenwithoutavoiceusa.org

Finding Forever Families for Children in Foster Care:

Davethomasfoundation.org

National Foster Care Coalition:

Nationalfostercare.org

Everyone Deserves a Family:

Heartgallerynj.org

Promotion of permanency, community, and caring relationships for adoptive families of foster children while offering safety and meaningful purpose in the daily lives of older adults:

Generationsofhope.org

The National Network for Young People in Foster Care:

Fosterclub.com

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