Multiple Transitions: [for caring parents only] Well, for potentials also.

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lucky
Senior Member

since 2000-01-17

Posts 1601
Idaho

0 posted 2001-03-22 05:33 PM

Multiple Transitions:

A Young
Child’s Point Of
View On Foster Care
And Adoption

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

I want to talk with you
about what it feels like getting ready to
be adopted, when you are a little kid who has
already had about a hundred mothers. When
you can barely remember what your first
mother smelled like.

When everyone

spoke a different language in
the place where you were born
than in the place you are now.
When some of the people
who took care of you

were called
“foster parents”

and you didn’t know
what that meant except
some thing about they
weren’t going to
stick around
long.

When, in the process of
being moved all over the place, you
lost some of your brothers & sisters and
a particular pair of shoes that felt just right
& your absolute most favorite cuddly, & a
certain place on the inside of your last
crib where you used to scratch
with your finger nail to
help yourself go
to sleep.

Kids like me, see, don’t have families of our own.
Because there’s something wrong about us. (I guess.)
Or ‘cause there aren't enough to go around. Or some
thing. And I probably won’t get one, either. Or if I
do, will it be to late for me to believe that
they love me, and are going to
stay with me..?

So...... I want to talk to
you, Big People, about these
things, even though I am not sure
you are real interested. Are you the
same Big People who keep doing
these same things to me in the
first place..? (Please don’t
get offended if I talk to
all of you at once:
case workers,
foster parents,

judges, adoptive parents.

I just need to say how it all feels to me,

and sometimes I can’t get the cast of characters straight.)
Some people say that my first parents shook me until my eye
balls got loosened up, or they left me alone, or they gave me
away, or they just ran away. I guess you think, because
of that,,! I am supposed to “Not” miss them..?
(because if I did it would sure make
me lots more cooperative
with all the plans
you keep
making
for me.)

Should I just
say, “They did the best

they could” so I’m not so ticked off
and lonely and worried all the time about
what the Big People are going to do next....?
The truth is, I can’t do any of these things: I can’t
forget. (Even when my brain does, my body won’t.)
I can’t stop myself from yearning (even though later
I will get quite good at playing games about this..)
I’m not saying I was some cherished treasure
or anything, in the family. But what were
you thinking when you sent Big Men
in uniforms to grab me out of my
screaming father’s arms at
eleven o’clock at night,
scaring me to death..?

Or when you sent me to a
foster home with out telling them
about the special ways I needed to be
handled because I had never stayed
any where long enough to get
attached to anybody..?

Or when they took me from those people
who were so disappointed in me after a few weeks
that they said I would have to be “disrupted”

(whatever that means)

So you sent me to a very nice
family with an older foster child who was
mean to little kids because we were weak
and small. And so he pinched me a lot
in secret. And pulled real hard on
my privates in the middle of

the night. And
when that
family got rid
of me, and the next,
and the next, did you think I
was going to take it all lying down?
Did you think I was supposed to just be
sweet and adorable and ready to connect
to another family who were going to
throw me away..?

(Could you have done that..?)

After a while, I had just lost too many
people that I might have cared about. I had
been with too many “parents” who really weren’t,
because they couldn’t hold me tightly in their hearts
at all. None of you got how I was being changed by
all these losses, (in my heart and in my behavior).
After a while, I began to get some pretty bad
ideas about how things work. And mostly
those ideas said that I was, by that
time, in deep doo-doo. I wasn’t
going to let anybody like
me. Not even me.

And so, no, I
won’t let you imagine
even for a minute that I like
you. That I need you, desperately.
That I might ever grow to trust you... I
am not, after all, a complete moron... Are
you ready to have me not believe you? Are
you ready for me to fight you for control..?
Are you ready to hold me, and then hold
me some more (when all the time I act
like I don’t want you to at all)..? Are

you ready to really stay with
me, through a battle that
last almost my whole
growing up? Are
you willing to
feel as

powerless as I do?

What will you think
when I say I don’t care a
bit whether you go on vacation
and leave me with Aunt Harriet,
who I hardly know at all..?

Then, when you
come back, are you ready
to deal with my taking a dump
in front of your bedroom door
every single day for three
whole weeks..?

You see, it is like

this, Big People: I’m not stupid. I
was not blind. I do pay attention, ‘cause it
matters lots to me... And so when my first parents
knocked me around or acted like I was invisible, or gave
me to some one else to raise, or stood there screaming while
you took me away from them, I noticed. And when no one came
to take their place, I noticed that, too. And when the orphanage
didn’t last, and the first half—dozen foster families didn’t last,
something started happening to me. A little bit of my spirit
started to die. For some reason, then, I started pulling
out my eyebrows. (I’m not sure what that has to do
with my spirit dying.) I agree that it doesn’t make
much sense for me to join in with all the other
people that have hurt me, by hurting my
self. But I do it any way. So I bite on
my hand, or dig at my face, or
make a real bad sore on
the top of my head
from scratching
myself. I pull
out clumps
of my hair,
and sooo the
kids at preschool
laugh, and Big People

have an odd looks on their faces when
they see me. I masturbate a lot to comfort my
self. (I even let their dog lick me down there.)
They say that sometimes I try to touch
other kids down there.

Sometimes I run
into the arms of strangers, like
I have known them forever, and like I don’t
actually care anymore who I am safe with or not.
(Am I safe with anybody..? Does it matter any more..?)
Did I mention how much I am growing to hate smallness,
and weakness, and defenselessness? It’s getting so the
only thing I know how to do is to be just as tough as I
can, and to try to rub out smallness and weakness
wherever I see them: In the kittens that get
hung by the clothesline in the backyard
& squished with a tennis racquet.

In the babies in
my recent
foster homes
who turn up scratched.
In my own Self, which I attack,
particularly when I am feeling
small or scared, and I
need to beat
myself into
more toughness.

And as little parts of my spirit
keep dying, will it surprise you that I’m
not exactly going to be overjoyed when you
finally say you have permanent parents for me..?
Do you honestly think I am going to say, “Oh, I get
it. You were just kidding all those other times,
but this time you really mean it”?

And, so, do you want
to hear something funny..? Just
about the time I am ready to get what
everybody thought that I needed (parents
who are actually never going to leave me) I’m
going to get just a tad weird. I’m going to start
banging my head more than I did before. I
might start acting like a baby again
and, even if I had gotten a little
bit comfortable with my
latest “parents” I’m
going to go back to
stiffening my body, and
screaming at night, and doing
everything I can to tell you that I
don’t want you to love me.

I can’t stand all this
talk about “permanence” &
“adoption.” I will make you sorry
you ever thought about trying to
get close to me. I will make you
feel almost as helpless and
small as I have usually
felt.

So you are
wondering what
I need..? Are you
wondering what
I would do
about
all of
this if I
had the power?

First of all, it would
help a lot if you would start
with one simple, clear commandment
to yourself: Never forget that I am watching.
Never forget that every single thing you do matters
immensely to me, (even when I work like crazy to make
you think that it does not). And I will remember. You may
be able to get away with treating me as if I am invisible for
a while (perhaps long enough to “disrupt” me or move
yourself to a different casework job). But, in your
heart of hearts, you know: I was there,

watching, I was having deep
feeling about what was
happening to me &
I needed some
one to act as if
it mattered, hugely.

Second, don’t imagine
that I will ever stop yearning for
my birth family (even though, as in other
things, I will pretend otherwise). Help me find
some way to keep a connection with them, even
if I never see them again. Bring out pictures, or
a Life Book and hold me while I rage or sob
or stare, or all of these at once. And
understand that none of this
is a reflection on you.
Don’t be surprised
when I come back from a
visit with them peeing my pants or
throwing tantrums in the bath that night.
I told you: things matter to me. So I am
going to have feelings about things

that matter to me.

Third, it would
help a lot if you

would make the decisions
that you need to make and stick
with them. Some days I think my mind is
going to explode because I know something
is going on in my life but I can’t tell what it is:
later I’ll learn that there was a court hearing
that day and everybody in my life was
wrought up and then it was
“continued” (whatever
that means—except
mostly that nothing is

getting decided, and I still don’t
have a family). I don’t get to make
the decisions. You do. So have the
courage to make them. So that

I can get a life.

Fourth, it would
mean a lot to me if you
would take good care of my
foster family. They have their
hands full. Sometimes they
don’t know what to do
with me. so make
sure that someone
is there to answer their
questions, to encourage them,
to help them understand me better.
You won’t like what will happen if I keep
getting disrupted, and the only way I can
think of to prevent that is to take extra
good care of the people that are
taking care of me.

So have I told you
anything that you wanted to
know..? Have I helped you understand
how we feel — all of us kids who fell into the
world of foster care and adoption..? I know it is a
burden for you to thing so carefully about me, and
I know you might get a little nervous to realize that
I am watching, and affected by all that you do.
But you won’t be sorry if you take me
seriously. Someday, see, I will
be Big People.

Give that a thought.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This was presented to
Rosemary and myself as
a graduation present from
our favorite Instructor at
college this year.

Unfortunately
we graduated.
(LOL)

But really,
there’s so much left

to be learned in life, and RJ
& myself could go to school
forever. Just to be ever
learning.

Do you want to donate..?
We’re located at (—LOL—) moving.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thank you all so much for
the read. Your all so
wonderful. Until

we meet
again,
Cep
on
writing.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Wilfred Yeats

Well Bill, you wanted to know if I/
we we’re into “teen” psychology..?
No... We’re just little people,
schooling and learning
what Big Folks
say.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

There’s so many
stories to tell and share I

Love You All — Dale

Writing isn't just something I do, it's something I am.
To write of feelings that touch all hearts in some manner is my delight.
-Marge Tindal

[This message has been edited by lucky (edited 03-22-2001).]

Wilfred Yeats
Member Elite

since 2000-08-04

Posts 2704
Wilmington, Delaware

1 posted 2001-03-22 06:02 PM

Some great commandments here - along with incredible insight -
A monologue you could deliver to parents to be, (both birth, foster AND adoptive) - which would leave many speechless - (at least for some moments ) maybe one more thought might be added: becoming parents does NOT come with an instruction book, just as puberty does mot come with chasity belts or condoms ~sigh~

Lest you miss it -hiding btween the lines - this is a great piece of writing ~s~

lucky
Senior Member

since 2000-01-17

Posts 1601
Idaho

2 posted 2001-03-22 06:16 PM

Thanks Bill...

It's been a long year Bill... To many assignments, not enough research... We're bushed. Thank you for looking. I hope many will do the same...

Friends always: Dale

Marge Tindal

Member Empyrean

since 1999-11-06

Posts 42384
Florida's Foreverly Shores

3 posted 2001-03-22 07:09 PM

Lucky, my friend~
WOW !
What a poignant piece !
I'm so touched and moved by this.

Loving you and Rosemary -
and missing you both muchly.
God bless your family in your move
and may you always return to bless us
with shared gems of wisdom and compassion.
Love~
~*Marge*~

~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~
noles1@totcon.com

Mother_Earth
Senior Member

since 2000-11-20

Posts 1370
1/2 year Texas & 1/2 year Michigan

4 posted 2001-03-22 10:13 PM

lucky, I was turned off by a lot of this, and then felt compelled to read on. Only some one who has been there can know how it feels to be in your place and world. I hope you can help other little ones in your pain find peace and comfort. Hope all works out and you find you are a person made by God and God doesn't make junk! Hugs, ME

Lisann
Member

since 2001-01-31

Posts 350

5 posted 2001-03-22 11:13 PM

lucky. all i can say is WOW.

I also grew up in foster care, so trust me I know exactly how you feel. I happened to notice that you are from Canada. So am I. I grew up in the Roman Catholic Childrens Aid Society. I went into the orphanage when I was 6 months old. 10 foster homes. 3 group homes, 3 hospital placements and 15 social workers later, I did not get adopted, even with all the promises made to me. instead at 16, I left CAS and quit school. I got 2 jobs in order to support myself. I was sick and tired of all the BS. They put me through. This poem really touched home with me boy. Brought back some pretty nasty feelings as well. Ones that I still need to work on. I recently found out that the CAS that I was a part of will be amalgamating with the Public board and they will be moving into one big building together which means they will be destroying the old building--------WHAT I WOULDN'T GIVE FOR A PIECE OF DYNAMITE!!!!!!!. I would love to help them destroy that damn building. The system is totally useless. I have several opinions about that whole scene. But anyway,

Great poem. This is coming from someone who grew up in it and understands completely

Joyce Johnson

Member Rara Avis

since 2001-03-10

Posts 9912
Washington State

6 posted 2001-03-23 02:32 AM

This is truly a stirring piece. I don't know if you are a foster child or if you are a psychology student but I am sure children are going through this torment every day. It is hard to place blame. Except perhaps parenting should come with an instruction book, or perhaps every set of parents should have to take classes in parenting, before conceiving. Anyway I had a foster child after he had gone through fifteen other homes. It was a struggle but I was determined I was not giving up no matter what and he learned to love me and called me Mom but his life was ruined. I taught him to drive a car at nineteen, he'd never had the chance to learn. And then he killed himself in a car accident at the age of twenty-nine. He had so much potential, but it just wasn't nourished soon enough. I was not a paid foster parent, my son brought him home to me when he found out he had no place to go. At sixteen. Joyce

ethome
Member Patricius

since 2000-05-14

Posts 11858
New Brunswick Canada

7 posted 2001-03-23 03:53 AM

Wonderful work Dale on the page and also in what you do! Definitely keep up the good work!

Rosemary J. Gwaltney
Senior Member

since 1999-08-26

Posts 997
northern mountains, Idaho

8 posted 2001-03-23 09:15 PM

This piece speaks the mind of a hurting child so eloquently! I too, thought it was excellently put.

No child should ever have to feel these feelings, but unfortunately, life is not so kind.

I think it's important for us "grown-ups" to become aware, and then never forget...

Thank you, honey, for sharing this.

(With love, your wife Rosemary)

The spiritual wind that holds survivors aloft, plants the seeds from which bloom new hope ... R.J.G.

suthern

Member Seraphic

since 1999-07-29

Posts 20723
Louisiana

9 posted 2001-03-26 06:26 PM

I'm not a parent or even a potential... so I almost missed this. And I'm glad I didn't... for the heartbreak it leaves is a small price to pay for the reminder "Never forget that every single thing you do matters
immensely to me"... words of truth that should be branded into the psyches of every adult in contact with a child.

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