I lived in the same house for nearly 15 years. Rather, my
stuff lived in the same house for nearly 15 years while I made dorm rooms and
apartments and summer camp cabins my home. (In an effort of true transparency,
much of my stuff still lives with my parents but in a different house; I don’t
want them to throw any of it away, but it won’t fit with all my new adult years
stuff.)
When my parents put my childhood/teenager home on the
market, my closet door was covered with bumper stickers because, at the time,
that was the thing. I remember there were also a lot of Journey stickers
because that was also a thing. One of the stickers read “I’m not opinionated;
I’m just always right.”
I knew everything back then as a teenager and then as an
early 20something. And I made sure that everyone around me also knew that I
knew everything. I was absolutely lovely.
It’s easy for me to say that was just a phase, but again, in
an effort of full transparency, I am still very much this person when it comes
to certain things. Most of those things have to do with social work and foster
care, but this personality trait of mine also lends itself to my marriage and
relationships. I am working on it because this trait isn’t quite as lovely as I
once considered it to be (while everyone else held on tightly and hoped the
phase would pass swiftly… So sorry this is who I am).
I don’t want to be a foster parent. Even though I clearly
know everything about parenting and foster care (because CLEARLY). But really I
sort of despise being a foster parent. It’s not that I dislike caring for the
children or providing for their needs. This does occasionally get old,
especially when I am trying to go to the bathroom or study and there is a never-ending,
always off key chorus singing songs from “Frozen” or ones made up. Also? They
never do this for my husband, but he is able to laugh and enjoy this torture
done to me. It is simply not fair.
My issue with foster care is the system. I mean this as a
whole and the smaller pieces involved.
It is against every fiber of my being to allow others to make decisions
for me or mine. And when you foster, eventually the children feel like they are
yours. It’s not that you want to sever any ties with the family that birthed
them but more than you want to fight passionately and completely for only good
things to come across these little lives.
I say little lives, and in the numeric age of the children,
they are often little. But the experiences… So many of these “little people” have
lived more lives than any of us could ever imagine living or wanting to live.
Some have gone hungry for days, learned to cook before they could dress
themselves, and cared for siblings that are just barely younger than they are.
Then there is never-ending change, relationships lost, frustration and anger
they have no verbal way to express, and the expectation from so many that they
act like regular kids.
And the system doesn’t help this. If you know me at all, you
know I can rant with the best of them about this system. I have plenty of ideas
on how to fix it but some of those ideas simply are not appropriate for a
public forum. (I was once told by a supervisor that I should never be allowed
to speak to the press because of some of these ideas. I have, thankfully,
gotten better at keeping some of these thoughts to myself. You’re welcome.)
Children were never meant to live these sorts of lives. And
I don’t just mean the children currently in foster care but also the ones who
exited foster care, had babies, and then watched as the system that hurt them
swallowed up the little ones they had thought they could love enough to fix
some of their broken places.
The system is not something that should exist. It shouldn’t
have to. Though I am grateful it does because every child deserves the opportunity
to live in a safe home and to know they are loved. Did you know that animal
welfare came before child welfare? So many human lives that were seen as less
important while animals were protected. Bless it all.
The system now hopes to protect, but the lines on this are
so blurred. How do you know what is best for a child? Is it okay to remove
constitutional rights from people by also removing their children and then
deciding they are never allowed to parent again. It is just so weighty.
We aren’t called to judge. Only God can do that, really. But
with foster care, there are court hearings and a judge presiding. There are
overworked and underpaid attorneys and case workers. Many who specialize in the
field of social work have left child welfare due to the system and the
disgustingly low pay; instead, many states now employ anyone with a bachelor’s
degree. I know because I was this person, and looking back now, I do not know
how or why I got the job. This simply should not be the case. Knowing what I know
now (thanks USC for making me a bit more of a know it all about foster care), I
see that it is essential for those with a background in social work to be in
this field and no one else. The things at stake are too precious and consuming
for anything less.
I am grateful Jesus was present when I was a recent college
grad with little knowledge of poverty or struggle. I also am keenly aware that
God is good, and that those experiences have reignited this passion for foster
care and the forgotten fatherless that is in my belly, heart and mind.
There’s so much talk of fatherlessness but so little action.
I think that no one really knows where to start. I also think that, often
times, people are afraid of the system in place and don’t want to anger anyone
at the top. I’ve tried to do this, but since I have this personality trait of
feeling I am always right, I have pushed the envelope professionally and such.
I am so grateful God is good and seems to have a hand of protection over me,
even though I am sure I cause him some headaches and lots of mutterings about
“what is this daughter of mine thinking?”. I’m comfortable with that that…. I
think.
Additionally, I think fatherlessness and poverty on American
soil is easy to forget. We forget that these stories exist around us. We push
them out of our mind. We stay in our bubbles and protect ourselves. We go on
missions overseas to paint orphanages and play with children, but we don’t
volunteer at the local shelters or purchase new linens or mattresses for the
worn out beds. By no means do I want to elicit shame on anyone. I am just as
guilty. I walked away from child welfare and the grueling work. I talked about
things but didn’t honor anyone with the way I spent my time. I am in need of
these reminders as much as anyone else.
So, yes, like I said I don’t want to be a foster parent. I
am so tired of having to ask permission or so many things. I am exhausted from
waiting on other people. And I really hate that there is no definitive plan to
my life, that I can’t control or anticipate anything. I think God probably
loves this because it is forcing me to run to Him and forcing me to trust Him
since I can’t seem to navigate things the way I feel they should go.
I want nothing to do with this side of life. It would be
easy to just move on, but I would never be able to forget. I wrestle with this
daily and if I can even go one more day as a foster parent. Ask my friends and
my husband. They know. They get the texts and the sobbing in the bathroom phone
calls.
Of course, I don’t want to admit that I hate foster care. I
don’t want this frustration to translate to any families. It is solely reserved
for the system. I also feel quite guilty that I can’t be this adorable, ever
affirming foster mother but instead fall into the category of “spicy with a
side of salty” in how I operate. I also struggle when I am told how “amazing” I
am because I feel like I am living this lie and double life as there is a war
waging inside of me daily.
But I also believe it essential to admit my frustrations so
they don’t fester and splatter, burning whoever is standing too close to the
boiling anger I often have. Because my frustration with the system should not
harm anyone walking life out with me. And because others need to know hos
frustrating the system is. Those in the system need to know it is okay to be
angry and to fight for something better.
I used to think everyone should foster. There is enough need
for it after all. I completely retract that. This stuff is FREAKING HARD. And
not all of us should do it. I daily wonder if I am even remotely cut out for
it.
But we can all serve. We all have to step into it somehow to
alter the system. The system has to change before any additional damage is done
to the lives of parents and children and case workers and all those other
people who somehow find themselves in the world of foster care.
Jesus never wanted systems to rule. He wanted people and
love and grace. All those things should be a part of the system and humanize it
in such a way that loving and lasting changes happen. If we can strengthen this
generation, the next generations will be better off.
I may not be right about how to fix it all. (That was so
hard for me to write.) Or right about my specific place in it all. And I get
all too riled up and beyond with the system and the impact it has on my life.
(Did I mention I am bent towards selfishness? Because I so am.)
Something has to change. I have considered this for so long.
I have hidden from it. Chewed and wrestled with it. Cried out to God about it.
Gone to the church about it. Waited for someone else to fix it. Begged for
help. And still so little happens.
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Click above watch Remember My Story (Removed Part Two) |
I want to try being less right and more open. I want to let
go and open my hands up to Jesus. I want to see the world change so that foster
care doesn’t have to exist. I want children to have full bellies and whole
brains and mended hearts. I want all of this because it is essential to the
world and because it is what every person and child should have.
I’m not lovely or meek when it comes to this all. I am a
snotty and crying mess that tends to mimic the roars of a lion versus the baa’s
of a lamb. I am never going to be lovely or meek; just ask my husband as he
often (rightfully) blames my tendencies for any grey hairs poking through. But
I am firm in my belief and resignation and desire to see real, true change take
this world by storm.