Random Thoughts From Childhood Series-I Hate Stupid Questions
July 20, 2009
I Hate Stupid Questions
I am not a fan of the Voltswagon Beetle cars, (stems from foster care) the social workers all seemed to drive this model type car. I feel like it should be referred to as the foster care transport vehicle. Even now as an adult, one sighting can send my thoughts wondering back to memories of my time in foster care. As a child, seeing one at the circus with 10 clowns climbing out of it caused distress and panic.
I think I was 5 years old when I came to understand a very important clue regarding this car showing up at my foster home. It always represented a visit from the social worker. Mine was nice enough, he was a professor looking type man with balding hair, graying mustache and beard and he wore glasses. His visit meant that a sit down with the foster family, me and my little brother would be taking place. I always dreaded these living room sessions. What would follow would be a lot of really silly and unanswerable questions. I call them stupid questions. Below I listed some examples of the type of questions I remember being asked.
As you read the questions, consider the mind of a 4 or 5 year old child. Can you remember being 5 and having the ability to articulate your true feelings? If so, yea for you, as for me, from my 5 year old point of view, I heard; “blah….blah….blah, blah…..blah”.
how do you feel?
“huh? how do I know…what is feel?”
How are things?
“What things? huh, what?”
Are you happy here in this home
“um gulp, eyes darting back and forth, sweating because the parents are staring at me?”
Do you feel that the (let’s call the parents “the Foster’s)” care about you?
“blank stare?”
Do you feel you can come to the Fosters and tell them how you are feeling?
“Again…parents glaring at me”
Would you be happy staying here with the Fosters?”
“I never get to stay, why are you asking stupid question?”
Memories from Jenny's childhood
Back to the Clue
When the social worker would pull up in front of the house with another social worker with him in the car, I knew this meant a home change was taking place. Any other time, during normal visits, he would come alone. Two visitors getting out of that car…this meant that I had about 15 minutes to prepare myself to move to another home. Looking out the window, after seeing the two social workers exit the Beetle, I would immediately pack up my stuff, putting my few belongings in the same bag I had arrived with, and sit with it on the bed and wait. The foster parents seemed to take as long as possible with the social workers in order to avoid the goodbye scene which was usually a dramatic emotional display filled with lots of tears. I would patiently wait in silence for them to make it to my room. I always knew when they were close because I would hear my little brother start to cry, which meant I was next to hear the news. Next my door opens and I see the faces of the foster parents are sad, eyes filled up with tears. I do not shed tears, I feel an odd sense of power, having figured out this clue. It is the only sort of control I can recall having in my life then. The chance to pack by myself and decide how and where I would wait for what was to come was a small but appreciated little moment for me. Quickly, the look on the adult faces changes to one of confusion or shock. I look at them, careful to avoid eye contact, clutch my bag under my arm and rise off the bed. I stand very tall and I keep my eyes focused on the door, I am all about the exit now. I am into the hallway, down the stairs, out the front door and into the Beetle, all while silently reviewing my next move in my head.
The parents are now outside the house and it seems the social workers are trying to console them. I continue to avoid eye contact, I know they are upset and I feel it is my fault so I stare at my feet and fidget in the front seat. The social workers get in the car, the woman social worker puts me on her lap, my brother is crying in the back seat. Now comes the part I dreaded the most. This is the part when the second social worker (the one I didn’t really know ) tries to console me by asking some more stupid questions. She is trying to get me to make eye contact with her, I am not having it! She is saying; “do you feel like it is wrong to cry? You know it is healthy to let it out and cry don’t you? I cross my arms and legs while I continue to look at her with the death stare!
Comments
8 Responses to “Random Thoughts From Childhood Series-I Hate Stupid Questions”
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The worst foster home that I was in. The foster father had a beetle. He is the guy that would laugh hysterically when he would beat his natural son and I with a ping pong paddle.
I remember after my mom had died and the social workers asked if I wanted to stay with my dad. Which was the wrong question because my answer was “YES”!!. and my answer was also wrong because With him I would have all of the freedom that I wanted. Including the kinds of freedom that isn’t and wasn’t healthy or good for a child to learn or experience. Some freedom is good but complete freedom is not. I really needed good parents who would care about me and to teach me right from wrong and the why to it all. I really needed someone who actually cared enough to tell me that an education was and still is important. That preparing for college and going to college is crucially important if you want to have a chance in this world. C.J. MacKechnie
You dealt with issues that no child should have to cope with. That’s what kills me. Childhood should be simple. The resilience of children is truly remarkable and you guys are testament to that. I am so glad that you can speak out and are willing to do so, because that’s the only way that all those in authority are going to listen. Well done.
Thank you so much for sharing feedback with us. We spend lots of time on our Random Thoughts stories hoping that it will do some good and that others are reading our posts-you are awesome!
Jennifer
As a future foster carer (I have just been approved and am waiting for a ‘match’) I can’t tell you how valuable your reflections are. Knowing that thoughts like these are going through a little person’s mind when the inevitable change of homes occurs and trying to understand the desperate need to claw back some control over the situation, will help me be a better carer.
As for the ’stupid questions’, thanks for the insight . Just becasue small people are having to cope with adult experiences doesn’t mean they understand how to process or articulate them.
Your blog is tremendous – keep it up.
Tessa
Thank you Tessa:) I’m so grateful to you for your feedback. I am also grateful that there are wonderful hearts like yours out there willing to take in, love and foster a needy child. Please keep in touch and let me know how your journey progresses!
John, I know you are traveling now and won’t see this comment until later in August however I wanted to say thank you for your support. You are always great with posting comments and I really just wanted to say that I truly appreciate that you take time to share your thoughts! Happy Travels to you!
How nice of you to take the time (a tremendous amount of time I am sure) to put such a website together for all the childred who have gone through the program and/or will go through the program.