Invisible Kids

A Five Pound Gift of Joy

2011-12-15T15:59:00.004-05:00

"This is a tough business but his little face and the joy he has brought our household reminds me constantly that any heartbreak is worth it to give him love!! Our house is head over heels in love with him and we pray every day that God will do what is best for him!!" ~Kate, facebook friend from high school and foster mom to 'Peanut', age 2 weeks.

My friend Kate and her husband Steve became licensed foster parents recently. I was thrilled when I heard the news right before Thanksgiving. They are wonderful people and terrific parents with a lot of love and stability to give. There is a shortage of foster homes, particularly good ones. The good homes get full and stay full. I figured they’d have a placement within a week.

I over-estimated.

They had a placement the next day.

Peanut is a five-pound sack of innocence dropped into this world via biological parents who are completely unable to take care of him. He left the hospital as a ward of the state belonging to the government as opposed to a loving family.

Luckily, Peanut was delivered into the safe embrace of a family that was willing to open their hearts and home to a baby in need. He has been nurtured, protected, and fiercely loved since he crossed their threshold.

Kate and Steve said yes despite what this might cost them. They know they are opening their hearts to a baby who might be there a month, a year, or forever. They know it will hurt if and when he leaves their home and returns to parents who may or may not have gotten it together. They said yes anyway, trusting they can do their part and God will take care of the rest.

Working in the system for nearly two decades, I’ve been well-trained to separate church and state. I don’t talk about how I see God moving and working among the most vulnerable and those who care for them.

I don’t talk about the small group of juvenile court magistrates who pray each morning for wisdom, guidance, and protection for their charges before they start their dockets. I don’t talk about the priest who lights a candle and prays each day for the thousands of foster children who are at risk. I don’t write about how I sometimes open the book I wrote and barely recognize the words because the entire time I was writing I felt like Something Bigger was writing through me.

Maybe I should start.

Because God is very much present in the suffering and joy hidden in the lives of foster children and those who serve them. God will give Kate and Steve and their biological kids the grace they need in order to handle whatever this journey brings into their lives.

So if fear is holding you back, keeping you from taking a few steps into the wild and crazy world of foster care, do not be afraid. You will not be alone. You will be given the grace to do whatever it is you are called to do. I know that because I have seen it over and over again.

We are in the midst of a season where we remember and welcome a baby born into this world as a great gift from God. Jesus comes to us in many forms and in many ways.

When he shows up in the form a vulnerable, abused, five-pound sack of innocence, how will we receive him?

Joy-Killer?!

2011-08-19T14:42:00.002-04:00

My teenage daughter called me a Kill-Joy today. And she wasn’t even mad at me. She just sort of said it matter-of-fact with a slight look of pity which made the whole thing even worse.

“Kill-Joy?” I asked. “As in joy-killer? You mean like a downer?” My eyes about popped out of my head.

“Uh, yeah,” she responded. Unbelievable.

“I am not a downer. I am funny. You know what? I’ll get you references. They’ll vouch for me,” I insisted as I made a mental note of which friends I could count on to set the record straight.

“How much will you have to pay them?” she quipped.

“You are very funny,” I told her as I broke into a smile. She giggled.

“Just remember where you got your sense of humor,” I added as we both laughed.

I understood what she was saying though. We had been talking about a YouTube video I had posted to my personal Facebook page. It was a video of former foster child Vyctorya Sandoval who died at the age of two after being returned to the care of her biological parents. Her foster parents had wanted to adopt her. And it was heartbreaking. Devastating.

But how do you raise awareness of the brokenness of the foster care and legal systems if you don’t tell the stories? If children like Vyctorya live and die with no voice then shouldn’t we use ours on their behalf? How do we create her legacy of hope and change if we don’t channel the horror of this tragedy into system improvements? If we wait for these systems to fix themselves it won’t happen.

I’d like to ask you what a friend recently asked me. If you had tons of money, a magic wand and a fair amount of power, what would you do to fix this mess? What is the first thing you would change? I’m interested to know your answers.

I once did a radio show with Bill Cunningham at 700 WLW. He was crabbing about how outraged he was over the failures of these systems. I shut him down on the spot. Outrage is good, I told him. We should be outraged. But these children, these lives torn apart by abuse and neglect…our outrage doesn’t help them so we can’t get stuck there. We have to take the next steps forward and commit to doing better by these kids who have no voice. We have to give them one. All of us. And we start by getting educated about these issues then getting involved.

So please spend some time on my website and learn about foster kids and how you can help them. Although you might think my book is sad, it has been hailed as ‘hopeful’ and ‘a road map for making things better.’ I promise. I even have a couple of lines in there that have been known to make people laugh out loud.

The only joy-killer here is if we decide this problem is too big for us grown-ups to handle. It isn't too big. We can chip away at it together.

Send me your ideas. What would you do with tons of money and a magic wand? And a little bit of power...

Have A Little Faith

2011-07-18T20:02:00.004-04:00
I stumbled across a book by Mitch Albom at the library last week and pulled it off the shelf. I'm a fan of his work (including bestsellers such as Tuesdays with Morrie and The Five People You Meet in Heaven) probably because he and I have some things in common. We both stare wide-eyed at this world, alternately bewildered by tremendous grace amid suffering and always, always trying to figure out what it means and what we are supposed to do about it.

Anyway, I checked out with Have A Little Faith sandwiched between books for the kids' summer reading projects. I got home and started it and didn't put it down until I was finished. One paragraph in particular caught my attention. It includes a conversation between the author and Cass, a parishioner at an inner-city church in Detroit, Michigan. They are talking about the pastor, Henry Covington. Cass is telling Mitch how he overcame his drug addiction after Pastor Henry believed in him when there was very little reason to do so.

"One night in the projects, I had just gotten high and I hear Pastor call my name. I'm embarrassed to come out. My eyes are as big as saucers. He asks if I can do some landscaping at his grass the next day. And I said, sure, yeah. And he gives me ten dollars and says meet me tomorrow. When he left, all I wanted to do was run upstairs and buy more dope and get high again. But I didn't want to spend that man's money that way. So I ran across the street and bought lunch meat, crackers-anything so I don't spend it on drugs."

I read that paragraph, then again and then one more time. This sums up beautifully the power of relationships in our lives. Cass wasn't going to spend Pastor's money on drugs. Suppose that money was a handout from the government or even from someone Cass didn't know. Would he have spent it differently?

I've worked in the child welfare system for almost twenty years. Success stories are few and far between. What separates the successes from the failures are always relationships. Mothers and fathers who have a support system and utilize the assistance given to them are the ones who make it, the ones who kick their substance abuse or other problems and successfully reunite with their children. They make connections with therapists, drug counselors or others. They have someone standing with them. When they are tempted to fail, to self-sabotage or slip back into dysfunctional ways of being, they hold it together for someone besides themselves or even their children. They hold it together because someone believes in them.

This is the piece that is missing all too often in people's lives and in the lives of foster children. The government has a role in helping vulnerable families and yes, government assistance with things like food stamps and housing is critical but it will never be the only answer. Likewise, the government must step into the lives of abused and neglected children but alone, it will never save them. It is merely a piece of a puzzle. The largest pieces, the biggest pieces of lives put back together and held in place will always be relationships.

And here is the good news in this dismal time of looming debt when government services are cut severely and we grapple with how to do more with less: relationships don't take anything out of our wallets.

Relationships are FREE!

First Breaths, Last Breaths and What Comes Next

2011-06-24T08:57:00.003-04:00
Eight years ago today a blue-eyed baby boy took his first breaths in this great big world. His single mother subsequently took him home to a life of dysfunction, poverty, abuse and neglect. I often wonder what his first days, weeks, months were like as he grew into a toddler. Did his mother love him? I believe she did. She simply didn't have the skills necessary to take good care of him. Did he love his mother? I think he did. He used to bring her fistfuls of dandelions and weeds that he picked from their front yard.

This blue-eyed boy took his last breaths sweating to death in an inferno closet where summer heat soared and sweat soaked the blanket that bound his arms behind him and wrapped him tight like a mummy. I often wonder about those last moments when this little boy died alone, gasping for air. His foster mother allegedly said, "he's freaking out," as she closed the closet door behind her and drove away.

Did he scream and shriek and cry out for someone to save him? Did he fight and squirm and wiggle violently, desperate to be free? Did angels surround him with their love and tenderness in his agony?

I like to think they did. I must believe they did.

Since Marcus Fiesel's first and last breaths, I have pondered what they might mean and how they might be used in the face of our compromised foster care system, vulnerable families and fragmented communities.

What meaning do we take from Marcus' short life and death? Maybe he came to teach us something. Maybe his death can give new life, new hope to countless foster kids if we commit to taking better care of our modern-day orphans. Maybe goodness can grow from this devastation. Maybe he did not suffer and die in vain.

I like to think that. I must believe that.

The enormously complicated issue of foster care can discourage anyone trying to find ways to help. But like the largest group of children now entering foster care, maybe the answer is very small, so small that we accidentally look past it while we try to find great, big solutions. Maybe the answer is kindness: kindness to each other, to our communities and to families living on the edge. Kindness to foster parents, caseworkers, GALs, magistrates and others who are buried under so much pressure and heartbreak they want to give up. Maybe kindness will be the one simple thing that, offered and received over and over again, will slowly but surely transform the lives of children and ultimately our world.

Maybe in honor of the anniversary of Marcus Fiesel's birthday you can give the gift of kindness to the next child you see. Maybe it will be your own. Maybe it will be the neighbor's kid or even the annoying kid at the pool who is always stirring up trouble. Maybe you can look upon that child with kindness and ponder the magnificence in that little body: the wonder and the hope and the potential that child brings to the world. Maybe you can nurture it fully knowing you are sending ripples out into the world far beyond what can be seen.

I like to think you will. I must believe you will.

Natural Instincts

2011-05-31T14:12:00.003-04:00
My home borders a 730-acre park lush with giant trees, miles of walking trails and a picturesque lake that wanders under several stone bridges. The park is home to countless animals and feathered friends, many who make their way just beyond park borders.

Last week I rounded the bend into my neighborhood and lightly tapped my brakes in order to stop for a duck lounging in the middle of the road. Fifteen feet to her left, her six baby ducklings sat in a perfect circle as if they were preschoolers waiting for their afternoon snack.

My daughter, Grace, and I sat quietly and watched them for a few minutes while Mother Duck sized us up from afar. When Grace opened her door to get a closer look, Mother Duck quickly rose to her webbed feet and waddled toward her brood squawking loudly. All six dutifully stumbled to their tiny feet as well. Within seconds she whisked her babies off safely into the woods. I was impressed. Why don't my kids always move that fast when I try to get them going?

I thought back to a troubling story I had read earlier in the day. According to new reports out of Florida, a two-year-old was removed from the home of her mother, Swazikki Davis, earlier this month after a series of unexplained physical injuries. While the two-year-old was placed in foster care, her one-year-old brother, Ezekiel Mathis, remained with their mom while an investigation was initiated. Fifteen days later he was dead at the hands of her boyfriend after allegedly being thrown against a dresser and pounded on his back.

What is it that makes a mother unwilling or unable to protect her baby? Isn't there a natural instinct that roars to life when we sense our offspring are in danger? Mother Duck has it. Why didn't Swazikki Davis have it? Or somewhere along the line did she lose it during her own childhood experience of abuse, neglect and subsequent placement in foster care?

Even seven-year-old Lexi had a natural instinct to feed and care for her two younger brothers when she was just four years old herself. She had a hard time letting go of her adult responsibilities when the three of them were (thankfully) placed in a foster home together. Weeks later she cried and cried as her foster parents put her to bed. They cried too when she thanked them for taking care of 'her boys'.

I definitely have that protective instinct when it comes to my kids. You have it too when it comes to yours. And ultimately, children like Lexi and Ezekiel's sister are our children too, at least while they are under the jurisdiction of a court and wards of the state.

Your children need you.

The Saving Grace of Community

2011-05-16T19:33:00.007-04:00
I couldn't sleep last night. When I was working cases of abused and neglected infants and toddlers I almost never slept well. My wise, older mentors would tell me to imagine putting my case files in my cabinet for the day and closing them up, trusting that I had done the best I could. Sometimes that worked. Sometimes. Mostly I imagined the doors opening back up and the lips of the file folders moving like a mouth saying "help me, help me".

A sleepless night returned and it had nothing to do with an abused or neglected child. It had to do with three young children (ages 10, 7, and 4) and their mother, Abbie. It had to do with media images of the casket that held the man who was their rock and one of the most solid parts of the foundation of their family: a young husband and father killed in the line of duty. You can read more about Warren County Sheriff's Sgt. Brian Dulles here.

The sadness runs even deeper. His oldest daughter has battled cancer twice and won. Isn't that enough suffering for one family to endure? And now this? How could this have happened? Why? Those same questions that gnawed at me in the dark while I was representing the best interests of kids in court returned with a vengeance.

As usual, I have no answers. But the one thing I do know is that the saving grace in devastation is community. Abbie and her children are surrounded by family and friends who will step in and do whatever they can to ease this pain. Brian's brotherhood of public servants will stand by them and the larger community around them will support them with prayers and random acts of kindness. They will not go through this hell alone. They are forced to endure it, but they will face it with an army of companions who will hold them together while they are falling apart. And with a lot of prayers, support, love and a tremendous amount of grace, they will grow strong around the broken places.

In the end, community is what stands when all else seems blown to pieces. Our relationships with each other are what matter most when you strip away everything else. We need each other. We cannot go through this life alone. Moving through this life in tandem with others is just about all we can count on, even if we can't move through it with the ones we love the most.

We all belong to communities: our families, our schools, our churches, our workplaces and our little neck of the woods. Wherever your community is, take a moment today to be grateful for it, to express your appreciation for being rooted and consider how you might strengthen it by your words and actions. Then think about building stronger communities around vulnerable children and families who aren't quite so fortunate.

Community is also what will ultimately save a generation of foster children drifting through a compromised government system.

Community is what will save all of us.

Parent's Rights Versus Child's Rights

2011-04-11T11:48:00.003-04:00

Chloe* was born drug-addicted and immediately placed in the home of her father's mother (paternal grandmother) after her discharge from the hospital. Chloe's mom, Lydia, was addicted to heroin and cocaine and received no prenatal care. Lydia's three older children were all adopted after she failed to successfully reunify with them when they were in foster care.

Lydia incurred criminal charges of theft and prostitution immediately prior to Chloe's birth. As result, she was court ordered to attend drug treatment and referred to a facility that could accommodate children as well. Chloe had been living with her grandmother for one month when Lydia petitioned the court to have Chloe placed with her in treatment.

If the judge asked for your opinion on whether Chloe should be moved to the center in order to live with her mother, what would you recommend? Should Chloe move or stay with her grandmother? What factors would you consider in making your decision.

*Chloe's name has been changed to protect her identity.

Extreme Recruitment: Foster Care Edition

2011-03-01T13:50:00.005-05:00
My good friend Shelly is a CPA and stay-at-home mom. She is also a really cool person, which is why I roped her into becoming the volunteer treasurer for the Southwest Chapter of the Ohio Association for Infant Mental Health. She slid into a chair next to me during a monthly meeting recently and placed an article about foster care on the table.

"Check this out. This is awesome," she said enthusiastically. I had to laugh.

The Time Magazine Article and the concept behind it were awesome. In March 2008, Melanie Scheetz sat down to watch an episode of Extreme Makeover: Home Edition and wondered how massive teams of professionals and volunteers could build a luxury home in a week yet foster kids wait in limbo on average for one to five years before achieving permanency.

Under Scheetz' direction, Extreme Recruitment was born. Under the Extreme Recruitment Model, long-lost relatives are zealously sought for hard to place foster kids in need of permanent homes. The Extreme Recruitment Team includes two full-time private investigators who track down a minimum of 40 family members per child languishing in the system. The outcomes are promising. Seventy percent of Extreme Recruitment's children were matched with families. This is an outstanding accomplishment. I can't help but wonder if the fates of severely abused Victor Barahona and his murdered twin sister, Nubia would be different if they had an Extreme Recruitment Team looking for family members prior to their adoptions.

When Shelly put the article in front of me, I had to laugh because this is exactly what I think will ultimately help children. They will be helped when people who aren't normally involved in the system become engaged. We can all make contributions, no matter what our skill sets, to further the mission of helping vulnerable kids in our own unique way. The government alone cannot save these children. But together, we can.

At our monthly meetings, Shelly is a lone CPA in the midst of therapists, social workers, and childcare professionals. While we talk kids and families and trends, she talks business and dollars and bottom lines. She will likely never be a foster or adoptive parent or on the frontlines of infant mental health work, but that's OK. She's doing the part she can do and passing on good information in the process.

What might you have to offer?

Swapping Stories

2011-02-08T09:07:00.004-05:00
I had lunch yesterday with a colleague who is a child therapist and works with young children who have been abused or neglected. A dozen years ago we started working cases side-by-side. She taught me almost everything I know about young children and largely shaped the ideas portrayed in my book, Invisible Kids, regarding the importance of relationships as vulnerable children grow and develop.

We sat across from each other in booth at a crowded Panera swapping horror stories we'd read in the local paper or heard on the news in recent weeks.

Did you hear about the nine-month-old baby who died of burns from a heater? Did you hear about the two-year-old beaten to death by his teen father? What about the mom who over-dosed on heroin in a restaurant restroom and left her three young kids sitting at a table in the dining area? What do you think of the three-year-old little girl who was found dead in her bed? Did you catch the story about the two-year-old who was severely scalded with hot water?

Not your typical lunchtime conversation, to say the least. Maybe it should be.

These stories are just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what has been happening in the past MONTH alone in our neck of the woods. Horror stories like these dot the landscape of our daily paper, sandwiched between news on the economy and the silliness of city council meetings. Do we even notice these stories? Do we think about the surviving siblings of battered babies and what their lives look like?

We need to, hard as it is to come face-to-face with children's pain.

I'm sorry. I wish I could spread happy sunshine about how we live in a wonderful world and stop there. But I can't. The reality is that we do live in a wonderful world. And because we do, we must step into this hell and help these kids and families find a way out.

Today, please visit my Invisible Kids Facebook Group and click on a link from Zero to Three that gives you information about using your political voice to help young children. Read up on your ability to inform public policy. It won't take you long.

I have faith that our most vulnerable children can live in wonderful worlds. We just need to help make that happen.

Make It a Happy New Year!

2010-12-30T08:17:00.003-05:00
The sun had set into cold, dark skies on the night I had a fading suntan and a bright, shiny new diamond on my finger. My week long honeymoon had ended and days later, I was swallowed up into my Children's Services job as if I had never even left it.

On this particular night in 1995, I was thrilled to get a parking spot right outside the doors of my office in downtown Cincinnati. Snow covered the ground and it was freezing. Panhandlers dotted the city blocks surrounding the Children's Services building. I had three reasons for not wanting to walk far in the cold, dark, and sometimes scary streets. Their names were Alan (age 5), Marissa (age 4), and Christopher (12 months). They were inside the building finishing a supervised visit with their biological mother when I arrived to take them back to their foster home just before dinnertime.

After hugs and kisses from their very mentally ill mother, Alan put his coat on and turned to help Marissa with hers while I bundled the baby. Alan was forever looking out for Marissa and it both warmed and saddened my heart.

"Alan, thanks for helping. I'll tell you what. I'll do zippers, gloves, and hats, OK?" He nodded and smiled. "It's cold out, but we don't have far to walk. My car is right outside the front door." Good thing, I thought, as I remembered I had a car seat to carry out as well.

I grabbed the car seat and let the straps dangle over one arm while I put the baby on my hip and reached out to hold Marissa's hand. Alan held her other one. We took the elevator to the first floor.

A well-dressed crowd of Children's Services higher-ups, politicians, and local leaders stood in the center of the newly renovated building, preparing for its dedication. A security guard approached me.

"You'll have to exit the back of the building," he told me. I just stared at him. The large building took up an entire city block. It was cold and dark and I had three kids and a car seat with me. The back exit involved a dark alley and a much further walk.

"I can see my car from right here. It is right out front. They haven't even started yet. These people are just milling around. They won't even notice if we squeak through. My car is right there." I pointed out the front window. He was unmoved.

"Sorry," he replied. "Orders are orders. All employees must leave through the back entrance. No exceptions." Meanwhile, Alan and Marissa just held hands and stared up at me. I took a deep breath as I re-adjusted the baby in my arms and headed out the back door.

We walked around the building as the wind from the Ohio River kicked up and snow blew around us. "I'm cold," Marissa said with a red nose and piercing blue eyes. Alan held up his two hands as he climbed into my backseat when we finally arrived. "It's OK," he said. "Miss Holly did gloves." Marissa held her hands up too as she inspected them and thought this over.

"That's right, buddy. I did gloves. The car will be warm in just a minute," I said as I started getting them all situated. "Who wants to listen to Barney on the way home?" The big, purple dinosaur was their favorite.

"Me!" came shouts in unison from the backseat. I slid behind the wheel in time to see two news crews arrive to cover the event going on inside the building. But I knew I had the real story in my backseat.

I will be married 16 years next month. What has changed for foster kids during this time? Everything and nothing. Too often, they are still the untold story, the ones shuffled to the back of the society and cast aside when it is convenient.

But the arrival of 2011 gives us a fresh start and another chance to learn more about these precious children who live in every community across our nation. Maybe this will be the year we get it right when it comes to taking responsibility for these kids.

Get educated. Get involved. Spread the word. Make a new year's resolution to do something, however little, to help a foster child, family, or non-profit agency that serves them.

Make it a happy new year for a child who is frequently cast aside.

From Horror to Hope

2010-12-13T11:54:00.005-05:00
Trevor* was three-years-old when the relatives who planned to adopt him changed their minds and abandoned him in the emergency room of a local hospital. Three years later, Trevor's adoptive parents sent pictures of a little boy grinning from ear to ear and getting onto a school bus for his first day of kindergarten.

Rhonda* was a drug-addicted mother on the verge of permanently losing custody of her seven-year-old daughter, Mikki*. Ronda got sober and went on to become an addictions counselor. Mikki, formerly in foster care, on medication for depression, and failing first grade was reunited with her mom. Today she is eleven-years-old, on the honor roll, and sings in the church choir.

Eighteen-month-old Josh* was in the backseat of his mother's car when she drove drunk and crashed into a concrete barrier. He was grossly neglected and physically delayed to the point his pediatrician suggested he may never walk. Josh, now four, went sled riding last week, giggling all the way down a hill and climbing back up with his foster brothers and sisters. His foster parents, along with physical therapists and others, have lavished devotion, professional skill, and ton of love onto this little boy. It shows in his wide grin, eyes that sparkle, and his healthy body that can do everything other preschoolers can do.

CASAs, foster parents, social workers, therapists, and countless others build the bridges between horror and hope for hurting children. They give the gift of new life every single day, despite how difficult and devastating it can be. They know the cost of standing in the gap for children who need safety and protection is a small price to pay for the reward of a job well done and a child saved.

Only two small words can begin to suffice when I think about what these people offer to children and to our world: thank you.

If you want to learn more about how you can help a foster child, visit www.invisiblekidsthebook.com for ideas on getting educated or getting involved.

*Names have been changed to protect identity.

Marcus Fiesel, Lessons Learned: A Five-Year Retrospective Review

2010-11-15T20:35:00.005-05:00
It has been nearly five years since three-year-old Marcus Fiesel was murdered by his foster parents. It feels like yesterday when I listened to Hamilton County Prosecutor, Joe Deters, speak at a press conference detailing the horrific manner in which Marcus died. The toddler was wrapped up like a mummy with his arms pinned behind him and held bound by a blanket and packing tape. He died a slow, torturous death, stuffed into a hot closet and left there alone while his foster family went out of town. My heart shattered. I wasn't the only one devastated by his death.

We, as a community, were outraged. We demanded answers. We demanded justice. We demanded change for the vulnerable children still in foster care who needed out help. But in five years, we've moved on. Have our foster children? How have they fared since Marcus' death shook the system, and the rest of us, to the core?

On Thursday, November 18, UC Clermont College will host a symposium on what system leaders and child advocates have learned since Marcus' death and what has changed. We will discuss the gaps discovered when authorities retraced the steps leading to Marcus' placement in the foster home of Liz and David Carroll. We will talk about changes in law and changes in policies governing the care and oversight of foster kids.

More importantly, we'll talk and listen to each other as passionate people who want to work together to improve the system for all our foster children. College students and community members will join us as we put our best thinking forward. We hope you will too.

Marcus Fiesel, Lessons Learned: A Five-Year Retrospective Review
UC Clermont College, Kreuger Auditorium
Thursday, November 18
2-4 PM, book signing and reception immediately following
Questions? page.beetm@uc.edu or jill.gomez@uc.edu

Got Peeps?

2010-10-13T20:01:00.004-04:00
Just last week someone asked me if I collected anything. "As a matter of fact, I do," I answered. "I collect friends." I've never been one to clutter up my life with a bunch of stuff. I'd much rather be surrounded with friends and family who daily engage in the give and take of life. The relationships I cultivate and tend are central to the deep satisfaction I experience in life. I need my peeps and they need me.

Think about it. Anything of any value that has ever stood the test of time was the direct result of a relationship. Healthy relationships with the people in our lives build, nurture, and sustain us. The absence of such relationships leaves us vulnerable and compromised. This is especially true for children who are growing and learning about our world and how it works.

I've long thought that basic needs for children should include food, water, shelter, and a healthy, loving relationship with at least one competent adult. Science tells us so.

When making decisions about the lives of children, too many professionals fail to consider this important fact. Childhoods are destroyed and futures compromised as a result. Sometimes we are more focused on parental rights or those of blood-related relatives than we are on the non-negotiable needs of children.

Consider the case of two-year-old Vanessa. Her birth mother consented to her adoption upon Vanessa's birth. For whatever reason, her birth father was not involved in the adoption decision. He should have been, and it is wrong that he wasn't. But it is more wrong to return a toddler whose entire world revolves around the loving care her adoptive mother has given her. It is more wrong to take away the center of Vanessa's world and thrust her across the country into the arms of a stranger who has been convicted of multiple domestic violence charges and is not parenting any of his other children. Too often, we rip children from the loving embraces of people who have mothered and fathered them in the truest sense of the word and put kids with strangers who happen to share their biology. Where is the science that supports this?

Children need people who can love, support, and provide for them, as well as offer consistency and stability. And once a child is securely attached to such an adult and is thriving, the train has left the station. Why derail it? The rest of us need to get onboard.

The Got Milk? Campaign was successful at doing a body good. Maybe a Got Peeps? Campaign will do our babies good.

WANTED: Loving Caregiver for Abused Baby Girl

2010-08-23T22:24:00.002-04:00
Requirements: Must be a licensed foster parent. Love, structured routine, bedtime stories, hugs, and kisses desperately needed but not mandatory.

Immediate Availability.

How many of you would sign up if you came across an ad like this? How many of you would say yes if I stopped you in the parking lot at Target as you buckled your own kids safely into their car or booster seats? If I came to you and said, “Look, there is a ten-month-old baby girl sitting in the county children’s services office with caseworkers while they look for a home for her. She was exposed to cocaine, and not just prenatal. She has to go somewhere. Tonight. She can’t sleep or be raised in an ugly gray cubicle with ancient computer equipment. She needs YOU. Can you take her?”

How many of you would say yes? How many of you would think about it, go home, and talk to your spouse? How many of you would cruise the Internet for information on how to become a foster parent? How many of you would swallow down the fear that catches in your throat and trust that you can give a precious child a chance at a childhood? Your arms are the ones needed to comfort and console a baby who was dropped into this world without safe arms waiting to catch and protect her.

Go. Now. Google. Talk about it. Figure it out. Then sign yourselves up. Because children under age five make up the fastest growing group of kids in foster care. They are more likely to be abused in foster care than older children and more likely to stay in foster care longer. They desperately need you.

Please (and thank you).

Remembering Marcus Fiesel on his Birthday

2010-06-24T16:16:00.002-04:00
Birthdays in the lives of children are important and often celebrated. As the mother of three children, I’ve organized and agonized over a number of birthdays and the parties that routinely accompany them. But when it’s all said and done, what seems to be most important to my kids on their birthday is the feeling of being special. They want to hear stories about day they were born along with stories of being babies and toddlers. They need to know their arrival in this world mattered. They want to be loved and to belong.

All children share these longings. Unfortunately, not all children are celebrated and find a place of belonging with people who love them unconditionally. Three-year-old Marcus Fiesel was one such child. He was removed from the care of his biological mother at age 2 for reasons of abuse and neglect. He was returned to her and removed again. At the time of his third birthday he was living with his foster parents. They killed him six weeks later.

Today would have been Marcus’ 7th birthday.

As the story of Marcus’ brutal death at the hands of his foster parents unfolded, people were outraged that a child under the custody of the government-run foster care system could be tortured and killed by those who were entrusted to care for him. We demanded answers and improvements in the very foster care system central to his suffering.

Things have changed in the three years since Marcus died. The foster care system of 2006 is much different than the foster care system of 2010. In many ways, it is worse.

Today, the government system charged with overseeing the care of foster children faces crippling budget cuts due to our current economic crisis. Due to layoffs at Children’s Services agencies across the nation, there is less supervision of caseworkers and fewer support staff. In Hamilton County, there is little money left for relatives who step up to care for children whose parents have failed them. Adoptions subsidies are reduced, and post-adoption services for children have been eliminated.

Marcus’ story shone light on a system that betrayed him. While many foster parents are loving and well intentioned, not all of them are. While many caseworkers are caring and competent, too many are overburdened, burned-out, and occasionally reckless. While the court system is designed to protect the best interests of these children, laws that govern them tie judge’s hands.

The answers to these problems do not lie in the current system. The solutions lie in the community. Thousands of volunteers responded to the park to search for Marcus when he was reported missing. Marcus’ death marked the end of his life but the beginning of a wake-up call to his community. But have we fallen asleep again?

Today, Marcus isn’t here to blow out candles on a birthday cake or to receive gifts. Instead, we can give the gifts of our time, our passion, and our promise that we as a community will no longer ignore the problems facing our most vulnerable children.

This just could be the best birthday present little Marcus ever received: his legacy that we will take care of Cincinnati’s foster children. What a great gift to give our community and our foster children in honor of a little boy remembered more for how he died than how he lived.

Happy Birthday, little buddy. May you live on in our commitment to ensuring safe, stable, and loving homes for all of our children.

Throw Our Foster Kids a Line

2010-06-15T11:23:00.003-04:00
I’m sitting at my favorite Panera, drinking Light Roast Coffee. I can’t help but overhear a conversation at the table next to me. Three men are discussing the oil spill and the need to divert their summer vacation plans. I watched news coverage of the catastrophe last week with my out-of-town sisters who were visiting while our kids all played outside in the summer evening. The footage of ocean animals covered in slick, dark crud, desperately trying to shake their feathers clean, was upsetting to watch.

As usual, my mind turned to foster children. I thought about how they are awash in a sea of helplessness, struggling to shake free from the trauma and tragedy of the childhoods they never had. When they are turned to shore at age eighteen, emancipated, I think they feel relieved to be out of the ocean. However, that sandy shore is far from solid ground.

Sarah bounced around between foster homes, group homes, and locked mental health centers from the time she was six until she was eighteen. A ward of the state with no hope of returning to her mentally ill, drug-addicted mother and no hope of finding a forever family to adopt her, Sarah counted the days until she could be on her own, free of county caseworkers and the oversight of a juvenile court magistrate. I became Sarah's GAL when she was 14. I was forever advocating for services for her while encouraging her to finish her high school education while she was forever running away. It was too little, too late.

On the day she turned eighteen she called me. “I ain’t trying to diss you Ms. Holly, cuz you real nice and all, but I’m through with you people. I’m moving on.” I begged her not to walk away, to let the system people at least help make sure she had stable housing. “I’m done.” Since she was clear about this decision and there was no changing her mind, I asked her to let me take her out to lunch to celebrate her birthday. The next day we sat at a restaurant in Northern Kentucky overlooking the Cincinnati skyline. She was amazed at how pretty it was. “You mean that’s the city I’ve been living in?” she asked, incredulously. She spent years on the streets of Cincinnati, sleeping wherever she could find a couch, running from system people. Unable to step back and see the forest for the trees, she couldn’t see how staying in the system voluntarily and accepting help with housing and education was a good choice. She was itching to make all of her adult decisions on her own. She was out of the ocean of foster care, covered with a heavy coat of abandonment, trauma, abuse, and neglect. To think she could shake it off all on her own was ludicrous. I knew that but she didn’t. And what I thought didn’t matter.

Thousands of America’s abused and neglected children adrift in the sea of foster care are plucked by skilled and devoted hands that bring them to a safe harbor. Unfortunately, thousands more are not.

Across the country people are watching the oil spill and pondering the effects of this disaster. Many are helping where they can.

Likewise, many people are reaching out a hand to foster children and pulling them to safety. But they can’t do it on their own and desperately need more hands on deck.

Please consider how you can throw our foster kids a line.

Can Little Fleas Biting Take Down a Big Dog?

2010-03-30T15:02:00.002-04:00
"So often we think we have got to make a difference and be a big dog. Let us just try to be little fleas biting. Enough fleas biting strategically can make a big dog very uncomfortable.” ~Marian Wright Edelman, Founder of the Children's Defense Fund

It was a warm April evening in 2007 when I went to meet five-year-old Joey*. He had been in foster care for only one night when I had sat through a court hearing listening to the facts of his case. I came home from court, had dinner with Ed and the kids and then headed out to see Joey. I just couldn’t rest until I laid eyes on him and the foster home where he had been placed.

My book, Invisible Kids: Marcus Fiesel’s Legacy, begins with the conversation Joey and I had that April night. Somewhere between the words rushing out of his mouth and the fear in his eyes, something inside of me shifted. I was the same Guardian Ad Litem (GAL) I had been for nearly a decade, but in the flash of a second, between his words, my commitment to him and kids like him took a radically different turn.

I didn’t know exactly how I would do it, but I was determined to educate people about the tragedies facing foster children with the hope of empowering them to get involved. Foster child Marcus Fiesel’s death proved the government could fatally fail children. Joey’s fear demanded that I do something so that solutions could emerge. That evening at the kitchen table, my commitment to writing this book was solidified.

I wrote Invisible Kids by taking it one idea and one sentence at a time. The thought of writing a book was too overwhelming for me. I just told myself I had to write a paragraph. A year later, the manuscript was finished. I discuss this process in a podcast I did with Women Writing for a Change just after the book was released. Check it out HERE.

Joey had no way of knowing that he pushed me into writing Invisible Kids. In his childhood innocence and suffering, he refused to allow me to sit quiet any longer. He enabled me to see that I had an important message to bring to the world.

I’m extremely grateful for the countless people who have read my book and have been moved to action. I receive your emails and hear how you have made a difference for a child and I know that Marcus Fiesel’s death means something and we are bringing good from it. I also know that little Joey had an important contribution to foster care when he moved me to write about him and others.

Every significant accomplishment begins with a thought backed by a commitment to do the piece in front of us that we can do. Invisible Kids ends with a dozen ways to make a difference: some are big and some are small. All are doable. We don’t have to solve the foster care crisis overnight. We don’t have to find the one big answer to the problems facing our vulnerable children. We just have to do one small thing at a time, kind of like a flea biting a big dog.

*Joey’s name was changed to protect his identity.

Esme's Light Shines On

2010-03-07T11:22:00.006-05:00
Three times today I was annoyed at my kids for leaving the bathroom light on. Each time when I went to hit the switch to turn it off, I discovered it wasn’t on to begin with. The sun is finally shining after weeks of cold and ugly gray skies. I had gotten so accustomed to the gray that I had forgotten about brighter days when the sun streams through windows and casts light on every nook and cranny of my house, even the bathroom.

Although the sun is finally out after a long hiatus, gray clouds hang over my head today. Four children lost their mother this week after she was shot and killed by her sometimes boyfriend. Her three-week-old baby dropped from her arms as she fell to her death. For the past week, my thoughts have never strayed far from the family of Esme Kenney, a thirteen-year-old who went out for a jog on the first sunny spring-like day of 2009 when she met a nightmare named Anthony Kirkland. He (allegedly) murdered her. His trial began last week.

Just like Marcus Fiesel’s photo, I vividly remember seeing Esme’s picture flash across the TV news on the night of March 7, 2009. On the cusp of becoming a woman, she seemed childlike yet kind and wise beyond her years. There was a gentleness and sensitivity that radiated from her photo. My family and I prayed for her and her family that night. Two days later I went to mid-day mass to pray for her family as they digested the most horrible news anyone could receive about a precious child so loved.

Esme’s parents, Tom and Lisa Siders-Kenney, have every right to slam the door on life and live in hatred and excruciating pain. They must experience those days. Instead, just two weeks after Esme's death, Tom and Lisa issued a statement urging kindness. Read it here.

Something stronger than death is emerging in the countless good things that have been accomplished in the year since Esme died. The myriad of good deeds stretches across the globe but is held together by common themes of hope, courage, and tremendous love. A full list detailing the impact of Esme’s tragic death can be found here. It is amazing and powerful.

I’ve learned important truths while watching the story of Esme’s lasting impact on our world unfold over the past year. I’ve witnessed how an unspeakable act of violence can become the fertile ground of new growth, if passionate and courageous gardeners like Tom and Lisa tend it and a flock of loving family, friends, and strangers lend a hand. Tom and Lisa are teaching us that anything is possible when we work together. They are showing us the power of choosing life over death. They are reshaping our world with goodness and love.

Today is the first anniversary of Esme’s death. Tomorrow Esme’s mom will stand in a courtroom and testify against the man who took the life of her beloved girl. The gray clouds hanging over my head today pale in comparison to the darkness that must be raging in the hearts of Esme’s family. Even so, I pray that the light of Esme’s life radiates around them, envelopes them, and caresses them with her love and her presence. Her light, like the sun, is undeniable and brilliant. Even though it is sometimes hard to see and feel, it is always here.

From Foster Care to Filmmaker: An Incredible Story

2010-02-22T11:20:00.002-05:00
Family dinner rules the Schlaack house every night. Ed and I make dinner with the kids a priority and although we aren’t always successful, we get it right most evenings. Recently one night at the dinner table I told the kids I had made a new friend that day. One of the greatest benefits of writing Invisible Kids is that it has brought wonderful people into my life that I wouldn’t have met otherwise.

I met Crisinda when Crossroads Church ordered my book in bulk. Crossroads is looking to form a community group around issues relating to foster children, and my book gave them good insight into the system and the needs of foster children. Crisinda then introduced me to Selena, a former foster child turned filmmaker who produced a documentary about her mother’s addiction to crack cocaine and her journey from foster care to college and beyond. Keep in mind that less than 1% of foster children graduate from college.

Selena and I met for coffee recently after trading several emails. I set aside two hours for our time together and it wasn’t enough. I wanted to know everything about her and how she managed to transcend her early life experience to become such a success. Her successes are many: among them her kindness and her desire to use her life experience to help others. She has every reason to use her childhood of abuse and neglect as a reason to be bitter and angry. She has every reason to close the door on those painful chapters of her life and not look back.

If you are lucky enough to meet her, she might tell you about her very early memories of her parents before drugs took hold of them. She might reminisce about the happy times she had as a little girl with a younger sister and a mother who sang a song about FAMILY (Father And Mother and I Love You).

She might let you know what it is like to live without food, electricity, or running water because your parents have taken every last cent to feed their cocaine addictions. Maybe she’ll talk about how she became the primary caregiver of her six-year-old sister at age 10 because her own mother was strung out on crack. She entered foster care at age 14 after attending 12 different schools. Maybe she will explain how hard it was to adjust to anything while experiencing such chaos.

Selena will likely mention the foster mother who loved her or the caseworker who took her to freshman orientation at Wright State University. She will be the first to say that these important relationships sustained her and allowed her to grow.

Since she tells her story so beautifully in her film, I won’t tell it here. I couldn’t begin to do it justice. Instead, I encourage you to view it. It is powerful and hopeful.

I wonder if Selena’s success had something to do with the fact that her parents were able to provide for her and her sister when they were very young, before cocaine destroyed their family. I wonder if a solid foundation of love and nurturing were built in the early years and if they were able to sustain her when life started falling apart.

I don’t know for sure, but I do know that our relationships with other people profoundly shape us. They are the cornerstones of our lives. Relationships are key to our growth and development not just in our early years, but also throughout all our years.

When I told my kids I made a new friend, they asked when they were going to get to meet the famous filmmaker. I smiled and told them the fact that Selena made a film wasn’t even the coolest part about her. One look into her kind eyes and a sense of her quiet strength tells her whole story. This is the kind of woman who uses her life to make the world a better place. Who could ask for a better friend?

Haitian Orphans and American Orphans

2010-01-26T07:34:00.002-05:00
I was among the first to get caught up in a rumor last week that a plane carrying 300 Haitian orphans was headed for Indianapolis and families were needed to care for them. It was a feel good idea, just what the doctor ordered after days of being bombarded with horrific images from Haiti. After watching video footage of bodies littering the streets of Port-au-Prince and seeing traumatized orphans wondering aimlessly amid the piles of rubble, the thought of bringing those precious children to a safe place with clean drinking water was thrilling.

Hundreds of other people thought so too. Within 12 hours, one church reported receiving more than 1500 inquires from families interested in adopting these children. CLICK HERE for more details.

Although the orphans did not arrive, a load of questions did instead.

Why are so many people willing to open their hearts and homes to Haitian orphans but no one is lining up to take in the 126,967 American foster children who have been freed for adoption but unable to find permanent homes?

Why does Hillary Clinton call a meeting with the heads of the US State Department, the Department of Health and Human Services, and the Department of Homeland Security to discuss the Haitian orphan crisis, yet the foster care crisis plays out every day in the lives of our forgotten children? Our government vowed to cut through the red tape and expedite adoption of previously identified Haitian orphans to waiting American families. We should do this. Absolutely. But can we also at least vow to cut through the red tape in our foster care system too? Please?

Why do celebrities come together to help raise $57 million dollars in one night but they can’t come together and use their influence and resources to help any one of the 91,278 babies that are victims of abuse or neglect in this great country of ours?

Just because I ask these questions does not mean I don’t want to save the Haitian orphans as much as the 1500 people who inquired about adopting them. I do. My arms ache to hold one of them and I would love to save them and give them a good home with laughter, love, an education and yes, clean drinking water.

Maybe we don't have a shortage of open arms and homes with people willing to raise and love vulnerable, defenseless children. Maybe we just have a shortage of people willing to tolerate the government bureaucracy with comes with every foster child. Maybe this should be a wake up call to the people in leadership positions in the foster care. We have plenty of willing families. Now how do we work with them?

If you have any ideas on why we have 126,967 legal orphans and how we can help them find permanency with a family that will love them, please, pass them on. I don’t have answers to my questions, but maybe you do.

Safe Families for Children

2010-01-13T09:07:00.005-05:00
Amanda* is twenty-three years old and a product of the foster care system. She drifted through foster homes and group homes for years until she was emancipated at the age of 18. Her parents are both deceased, as is the father of her two little girls, ages 2 and 1. Amanda is on her own today, without the support of any extended family or friends.

Most kids who age out of the foster care system don't do so well on their own. Amanda's older brother was found shot dead just months after he aged out of the system. Her younger brother was incarcerated within a year of his emancipation and is in prison today. Many former foster children suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder at rates twice as high as US war veterans. Less than half have a high school diploma and many are homeless within months of being on their own. For more sobering statistics on kids who age out of the system, CLICK HERE.

Compared to her brothers, Amanda is a success story. She earned her high school diploma while in foster care and has managed to meet her own basic needs, as well as those of her infant and toddler. But every day is a challenge, and the challenges are mounting to the point where Amanda wonders if she can face another day.

Amanda is currently homeless and without a job. She is also significantly depressed. This makes parenting her children nearly impossible.

The shaky ground on which she has been treading is slowly crumbling and she is desperately clinging to the hands of each of her babies, terrified of losing them to the very foster care system that raised her and turned her loose. Even so, she can't do it anymore. Is there a way out this nightmare?

If she lived in Indianapolis there would be. Or Chicago, Orlando, Jacksonville, or a handful of other cities across the United States. What do all these cities have in common? They are home to a program called Safe Families for Children, a program born out of the brilliant vision of it's founder, Dr. David Anderson. I first read about Safe Families in the New York Times last May.

Dr. Anderson is from Chicago. Like you and I, he watched news accounts of story after story in which a child died of abuse at the hands of a parent. These stories moved him to search for a better response and a way for parents to get help before they abuse or neglect their children.

In 2003, Safe Families for Children was started with a handful of volunteers. Biological parents facing problems such as homelessness, illness, or incarceration have an option of placing their children briefly with volunteer families who agree to care for and support children. Biological parents retain custody and volunteer families are not compensated for their services. The goal is always to provide respite and support to children and families like Amanda and her little ones.

The beauty of this model is that it is a community or family responding to those most in need of stability. Foster care is necessary and life-saving, but the Safe Families model helps families and children before blatant abuse or neglect occurs.

Because there is no exchange of custody and no reimbursement involved, everyone stays focused on resolving the issues that led to the need for placement. Being a volunteer family is a great alternative for people who've often considered fostering but have been overwhelmed by the lengthy process of licensure. Safe Families complete background checks, references, and homestudies, but the required training is all online. It is also short-term in nature, a perfect fit for families who are unsure they have what it takes to be a foster parent with placements that can last indefinitely.

I wish with all my heart that Amanda had Safe Families here in Cincinnati to turn to during this crisis. It would give her children the stability and safety they need while she focuses on getting her feet back on solid ground.

If you are intriqued by the idea of bringing this brilliant, caring alternative to Cincinnati's families in crisis, comment on this blog or email me at admin@invisiblekidsthebook.com. Maybe if we all work together we can find a way to make this a reality for our most precious resources: our children, our families, and our communities.

Thanks for reading and for caring!

Childhood Stability

2009-12-28T14:03:00.009-05:00
I'm not really the type that frequents bars, much less on a cold Sunday night in December. I'm more of a homebody and prefer hanging out with good friends and family. However, as I headed out of my house last night, I was looking forward to seeing friends from grade school that I hadn't seen in 20 years. Twenty-something of us had been together nine months a year, five days a week from the time we were in first grade until we went to high school. That's a lot of togetherness.

Last night those of us who gathered relived our years in Catholic elementary school in Cincinnati, Ohio. We laughed a lot.

"Remember third grade when you got your legs stuck in the desk after you sat in it backwards and the principal had to cut you out of it with a saw?"

"Remember when you got me suspended in eighth grade after you dared me to climb the ladder that went to the roof of the school?"

"Remember when the boys got into a fist fight after school in sixth grade? They hit each other, started crying, then shook hands."

"Remember when you got a demerit for modifying the announcements on the school PA to include a message in the office for Tinkerbell?"

The remembering went on for several hours and we laughed ourselves sick. But it wasn't all fun and games.

We toasted our classmate, Warren, who is forever age 10 after dying from cancer when we were in fourth grade. We talked about the Dad's Club fall out in seventh grade, when a bunch of parents fought over whether there would be one or two boys' basketball teams. We remembered how, in 1983, the school brought in professional counselors to talk to us about our feelings. We were a small class. We had one classmate die and another diagnosed with Hodgkins Disease. In the middle of that, my classmates came to my childhood home one evening a week before Christmas to sing carols for my father, who died of cancer a week later on Christmas Day.

We saw some tough times, but we saw them together. Nine months a year, five days a week.

As I drove home last night, I thought about what a gift it is to be anchored, to experience stability in childhood when things change rapidly, without warning. People get sick. People die. People can be cruel and so can life. But in relationships with others, we find our way around the tough stuff and can emerge better people because of it.

I'm grateful for the anchoring my classmates and my school gave me from the time I was 6 until I was 14. It helped build the foundation for my future. But I also think about the children who aren't so lucky to experience this kind of stability, like foster children who move from home to home and school to school regularly. I think about how they lack relationships, the one thing that can really help them heal when life hands them devastation.

If you are so inclined, think back to those who offered you stability in your own childhood and thank them for it. They gave you a vital gift. And if you are so inclined, consider how you can become or help find stability for foster children who aren't quite so fortunate.

Looking Beyond the Least Bad Alternative

2009-12-14T12:58:00.003-05:00
In 1994 I attended a mandatory training session for child welfare workers during which we argued the pros and cons of both foster care and keeping kids with abusive or neglectful parents. I remember thinking if I had to choose a side, I would probably come down on the side of keeping biological families together. The familiar is better than the unknown and no matter what, abused and neglected children always longed to be with their parents.

Fast forward about six years. By 2000, I had seen too many parents fail at keeping their kids safe and fail at reunification, but not before their children were too old to have a larger pool of adoptive homes to choose from. My heart always broke for the kids we could have saved at a age 2, but didn't set free for adoption until they were 8 or older and their behaviors were too scary for adoptive parents to consider. As time passed, I more often came down on the side of foster care and a commitment to fostering stability for a child.

I'm not the only one who changes sides on this issue. The system seems to favor one side until too many children are hurt, and then it sways to the other. It has always been this way.

Right now Los Angeles County is swaying toward the biological parent side. An LA Times article introduces us to Darlene Compton and her son, Jontay. Darlene has an extensive history of substance abuse and is not parenting her five older children. To her credit, she has some sobriety under her belt now and is caring for two-year-old Jontay with a significant amount of assistance from Children's Services. You can read all about Darlene and Jontay HERE.

What struck me about this article was a comment regarding the return of children to compromised parents as being the "least bad alternative". I'm familiar with this concept and write about it passionately in my book, Invisible Kids. Too often, social workers and others are forced to choose the least bad alternative for foster kids. Foster care isn't always good. We know that from the story of Marcus Fiesel and many other children. Remaining with biological family isn't always good either, as little Trustin Blue taught us.

As a mom, if someone gave me the choice between two bad alternatives for my child, would I accept one or would I exhaust every opportunity looking for something better? I think I would go the ends of the earth to find another option. I think you would too if it was your child.

So why don't we forget about the two bad alternatives for so many foster kids and start looking for a third? I don't think we'd have to look too hard to find it. It is right under our noses.

We are the alternative. Jontay's chance for stability and success largely depends on the support he and his mother receive not from the government, but from the community they live in. The most successful families are rooted in support systems. The kids who have done the best transitioning from foster care back to biological families have foster parents who remain involved as a support to biological parents. And in these cases when reunification fails, these children don't suffer nearly as much. They may lose their primary caregiver, but they still have attachments and a sense of belonging. Both are critical to the lifelong success of every child.

Someday the government will stop showering Darlene with the supports and services that enable her to maintain her sobriety and care appropriately for her little boy. What will happen then? And if she fails, will Jontay be young enough and free from emotional problems to find an adoptive family?

I sincerely hope Darlene and Jontay make it. I also hope we start thinking about how we can bridge the gaps and become the safety nets for kids like Jontay. There are far too many who need us to join this discussion and find better solutions.

The Truth Hurts

2009-12-03T14:36:00.007-05:00

Sometimes truth is brutal. Sometimes it's so horrific we want to turn away. Sometimes we think we are not strong enough to handle it and we forget that we're only asked to hear a story, not to live it. Living it would be much, much worse. Please, don't turn away just yet.

Meet 17-month-old Peter, who (I believe) rests in the arms of angels after a short life of complete and utter torture at the hands of his mother's boyfriend. The attached video is less than six minutes long and paints a picture of a life story that none of us want to hear or see. I challenge you to view it.

I asked you to do this because kids like Peter and Marcus Fiesel need you to know their stories. Not so you can be devastated and feel helpless, but so you can do whatever you can to make sure another child doesn't suffer abuse and neglect to the point of death. There is nothing that we cannot do when we come together around a common cause. Nothing. So if the foster care or legal systems need to be re-made so children do not suffer, we can do that. It won't be done by social workers, judges or other professionals alone. It can only be done by all of us.

But we can't do it if we are not willing to come face to face with the stories and to be moved to action. I know it is uncomfortable and sad to hear about children suffering. I also know that nothing in this world is more gratifying than working to bring their suffering to an end.

You can do this. You can watch this video. If you can't bring yourself to do it, I understand, but that doesn't mean you can't do something to help. You can visit www.invisiblekidsthebook.com and learn how to make a difference in the life of a child like Peter or Marcus who we still have a chance to save.

Doctor's Faith Guides Work with Maltreated Children

2009-11-24T22:56:00.004-05:00
For every bad story about a child mistreated in foster care, I stumble across a great story about people dedicated to helping them. For every darkness that casts a shadow over vulnerable little lives, someone, somewhere is working to make things better.

Meet Dr. Phillip Scribano from New Albany, Ohio. He is the medical director of the Center for Child and Family Advocacy at Nationwide Children's Hospital in Columbus, Ohio. You can read about the two health-care programs he has implemented here. One involves coordinated medical care for foster children. The other involves home visitation and outreach to mothers with children under age two. Both are promising practices, no doubt changing the lives of the children served and strengthening their futures.

Many children in foster care lack comprehensive, consistent medical care with doctors who know their histories. There are lots of different reasons for this. Children move from foster home to foster home and change caseworkers frequently. Each transition increases the likelihood of important information getting lost. As a former Children's Services caseworker, I seldom had updated medical records on a child when I received a new case.

Once as a Guardian Ad Litem I came across a medical report in the file of a new case I had just received. It involved a baby who had been scheduled for an MRI. When I contacted the foster parents, they indicated they had taken him for the MRI but assumed the caseworker would tell them if they needed any further follow up. When I talked to the caseworker, she had assumed the foster parents would be contacted by the doctor if follow up was needed. These are the cracks through which the medical care of foster children fall. Within days, thanks to a big-hearted pediatrician (probably one a lot like Dr. Scribano), the foster baby was seen and treated accordingly.

What I love about Dr. Scribano's story is that he talks about how his faith guides his passion. I know what he means. So do you. It is that feeling of being driven to be part of something bigger than just ourselves, of giving because we know that there is no greater purpose for our life. It is taking the skill you have, whether you are a doctor, social worker or everyday, average American and using it to make the life of a child better. There are so many ways to help these vulnerable children. Visit www.invisiblekidsthebook.com or read Invisible Kids: Marcus Fiesel's Legacy to learn how.

This Thanksgiving, this is what I'm grateful for. I'm grateful for the thousands of people across our country who have dedicated their lives to helping foster children. And I'm grateful that you are considering joining them.

A Booming Voice for Foster Children

2009-10-29T12:26:00.005-04:00
The first time I met Bishop WC Martin, I was taken in by the look in his kind eyes. Although we are physically close in height, it felt like he towered over me with his life experience and heart for foster children. We couldn't look more different. He is a black Southern Preacher old enough to be my grandfather. I'm a white, thirty-something mother of three and social worker. He is boisterous and I'm a little more reserved. He's been a guest on Oprah, 48 hours, and other national media venues. My media exposure has been mostly local. He doesn't seem to worry about what people think of him. I tend to second-guess myself more than is probably healthy.

He shook my hand warmly and introduced himself, leaning in to catch my name. He and I were both keynote speakers at a conference last Spring. After his address I passed him on my way to the podium. We had a minute to talk and I couldn't resist asking if he had any last-minute tips for me before I took the stage. When he speaks, people listen. He looked me in the eye and said, "I'm just a poor country boy from the backroads of Texas. I speak from my heart. You do the same and you will be fine." I took the stage and finished my address to the sound of resounding applause. "Good work, my friend," he said as we walked out together.

Bishop Martin and I crossed paths again last week. He was in Cincinnati to address pastors and other church leaders in our area with the goal of motivating them to get involved with foster care and adoption. Midway through his passionate speech he stopped, took a deep breath and said, "Everyone one of you in here has a responsibility for a child lost in the system." He talked of passing the buck, closing our eyes and turning away from children who have been abused, neglected or abandoned by their parents. Enough is enough.

This is exactly the message church leaders needed to hear and I was thrilled to have someone like Bishop Martin deliver it. To read John Johnston's Cincinnati Enquirer article about Bishop Martin's address, click here. It is a great piece and really captures the message.

Bishop Martin and I autographed our books (mine is Invisible Kids) for the attendees. After the crowd was gone, we packed up and headed out the door. He was returning to his home in Possum Trot, TX and I was on my way to guest lecture at a university. As we parted ways, I found myself wondering when we would cross paths again, and I hoped it would be soon.

To catch a glimpse of this great man and his life's work, please visit http://www.bcministry.org/ or check out his book, Small Town Big Miracle.

To learn more about the Coalition of Care and the 28 churches coming together around the needs of foster care, please visit http://www.coalitionofcare.org/.

Long After We Are Gone

2009-10-08T12:18:00.004-04:00
I’m a people person. I really like people (most of them, anyway). I think they are fascinating and can always teach me something. I often wonder what I can learn from each person who crosses my path.

So it comes as no surprise that I get a lot of energy from speaking engagements and book signings. I just returned from giving the keynote address at the Indiana State Court Appointed Special Advocate (CASA) Conference. I’ve met hundreds of CASAs across the country and they never fail to amaze me with the passion, dedication, and perseverance they bring to their volunteer work. I always say CASAs are among my favorite people. I found the Indiana CASAs to be no different.

Immediately following my keynote address I started autographing books. The line was long and I was trying to move people through while also staying present and thanking each person. As I looked up to greet and thank the woman in front of me, she leaned over the table a little, as if she was about to tell me something important. I listened.

“I’m 70 years old and I am a CASA. I lived in foster care from the time I was six years old until I was grown.” She paused and drew a deep breath. “Back in those days, I saw a caseworker once a year when she would bring me a box of old clothes and tell me that it would have to last until she returned again.” I noticed tears forming in her eyes behind thick glasses, her hand on the table between us, steadying her weight as she spoke. She continued.

“Things are different now. Caseworkers and people visit a lot more.”

I’m not sure what I said in return. I could tell you I said something brilliant, but who knows? I did squeeze her hand and thank her for volunteering. And she moved on.

If I hadn’t had a long line of people waiting behind her, I would have loved to ask her what it was like being a foster child in the 1940s and 1950s. I wonder what she remembers, and if the memories are good or bad?

What I took away from our brief encounter was a reminder that childhood memories stay with us for decades, long after we become adults and make our way in the world.

It is powerful to know that we can make a lasting impact on a child for years if we choose to get involved and work to make a difference. How wonderful to realize that one act of kindness just might be seared into memory and recalled at a much later time, long after we are gone.

Katie's Chance at a Childhood

2009-09-29T10:28:00.001-04:00
A close friend of mine began fostering a fourteen-month-old little girl named Katie* not too long ago. Confidentiality prevents me from giving any identifying information about this sweet little baby, so bear with me as I try to paint a picture of her that makes sense. Malnourished, severely neglected and grossly delayed, Katie came into foster care with simply a name, a date of birth, a t-shirt and diaper. I met her that night. She sat on the floor next to her foster mother, her dull green eyes lost in a world all of her own and her soft, curly brown hair reeking of cigarette smoke despite a warm bath and clean jammies.

By morning, there was a case of diapers and some board books from the neighbor down the street who heard of her arrival. Later came gifts of clothes and a "security blanket" from friends. Several months later, random gifts for Katie continue to appear, courtesy of extended family and friends.

Material items weren't only the benefits Katie received. Thanks to the proactive work of her foster mother, within two weeks she had referrals for developmental assessments. She also had her first doctor's appointment: she had never seen a doctor before.

While other kids her age were building vocabularies of hundreds of words, Katie didn't know she had a voice. I was lucky enough to be with her the night discovered she could make noise. Silent for weeks, she suddenly began mimicking an older child. She opened her mouth as wide as she could and sound poured out. She was amazed and delighted as she soaked up the encouragement of her small audience. Katie came alive that night, and has been growing by leaps and bounds ever since. She is making great gains and has recently started crawling. When she arrived in foster care at age thirteen months, professionals diagnosed her development at age four months.

I've heard foster parents talk about when their foster babies "woke up." It seems one day, after a considerable amount of love, stability and plenty of nurturing, abused or neglected babies decide that just maybe the world is worth engaging. They start to interact with their caregivers and begin exploring their surroundings and their own abilities. However, I've never had the joy of seeing this unfold. Until now.

Kids like Katie are the ones saved by foster care and by selfless, loving people who put their hearts on the line and open their homes to children who need a safe place to land in the middle of the night. I can't imagine a more fulfilling or more potentially heartbreaking role than one of a foster parent. Little Katie was fortunate enough to be placed in a safe foster home with a foster mother completely devoted to her. She is a lucky little girl, no doubt. Those of us who have come to love her are lucky too.

If you are not in a position to foster, there are many other ways to help our most vulnerable children. Foster parents are so grateful for the support they receive from a wider community. If you know a foster parent who is doing a great job, please thank them. They are saving childhoods everyday.

I wish I could post a picture of Katie with her bright eyes and wide grin, but again, confidentiality is necessary. I wish you could see how her face lights up or hear how she babbles non-stop now. I also wish I'd taken her picture the first night she was placed in foster care. What a difference! No matter what the future holds for Katie, today she is showered with love and affection coupled with services like physical and speech therapy to help her catch up. She is finding her voice and her place in this world. And for today, that is all that matters.

*name has been changed to protect her identity.

Amy Baker Outrage

2009-09-09T22:26:00.006-04:00
Amy Baker is considered a household name in Greater Cincinnati. When the story of murdered foster child Marcus Fiesel took the area by storm, Amy Baker was front and center in a twisted nightmare that seemed to belong on an episode of Jerry Springer instead of on the front pages of our local paper.

She and her three kids were living in Marcus' foster home at the time of his death. Amy was the live-in girlfriend of foster parents Liz and David Carroll. During Liz Carroll’s murder trial, Amy testified that she and David had burned the remains of Marcus’ body and dumped them into the Ohio River. For those of you just tuning in and wanting to know the full story, click here.

Amy never served prison time for her participation in the death of Marcus. She was offered immunity in exchange for giving prosecutors information about Marcus’ disappearance. I interviewed Hamilton County Prosecutor Mark Piepmeier for my book, Invisible Kids. Over coffee he seemed thoughtful and chose his words carefully when the subject came to Amy. He believed we might still be looking for Marcus if not for her confession.

Say what you want about Amy. People in Clermont County put signs in their front yards telling her to leave their community. That’s fine. They are entitled to their opinions and their outrage. But perhaps their time and energy could be better spent by putting up signs encouraging foster parenting. Maybe the signs could read, “Four thousand kids in Ohio will go to bed tonight awaiting adoption. No one has stepped up to love them forever.”

I digress. Amy Baker was back in court recently regarding the custody of her own three children, two girls and a boy. They were 6, 5 and 3 respectively in August 2006 when Marcus died and they were placed in foster care. Ten months later, in June 2007, they had changed foster homes three times.

It has been two years since then. How have they fared? Are they together? Have they been safe in foster care? And why does it take our judicial system so painfully long to make decisions about permanency for children who’ve experienced abuse, neglect and significant trauma? And more importantly, when are we as a community going to figure out better systems for protecting our children? If we wait for the government to fix itself or come up with something better, we’ll be waiting a long time.

On August 29, 2009 Amy Baker and her estranged husband, Brian, signed permanent surrenders on each of their three children. This means their parental rights have been severed and the kids can be placed adoptively. They are 9, 8 and 6 now. Who will adopt them? Will they be adopted together or will they lose each other forever? What kind of emotional needs will they have after enduring early childhood trauma?

In Hamilton County, Ohio, adoption subsidies that help adoptive parents with the care and cost of raising adopted children have just been reduced due to budget cuts. Post adoption services, such as therapy, have been eliminated. Who is going to step up and have the financial means and community support to adopt three innocent, blameless children? I hope and pray someone does.

If and when that happens, I hope the rest of us can get past our anger and outrage and find ways to support the loving foster and adoptive parents who are brave and kind enough to do what the rest of us won’t.

Back To School

2009-08-18T12:30:00.010-04:00
It's back to school time at my house, and three kids equal three different buses each 45 minutes apart. Looking for a positive spin on this, I thought it be great to have time with each child individually every morning. I hadn't thought about what would happen if we missed a bus, particularly the first one.

However, this is exactly what happened on the first day of school. As the back of the bus grew smaller and smaller until it vanished, all I could see was this nightmare domino effect wreaking havoc on the rest of the morning. It played out in my mind in slow motion as my oldest daughter and I stared at each other. How does Kid Number Two make Bus Number Two if I drive Kid Number One to school? And what about Kid Number Three still asleep? He's too little to stay home alone. Panic set in. Note to self: make sure husband does not leave for work early on the first day of school.

For eight years, school buses retrieving the Schlaack kids have picked up at the same corner. I never considered this might change some day. Sure enough, the bus pass had the new location right on the front. I was so entrenched in the way it had been that I didn't even see what was written in black and white.

So as I stood on the corner wondering what in the world we were going to do, one thought flashed through my mind so fast I'm a little surprised it even registered. "Is this what it is like for foster kids?" Things change in their lives constantly with no warning. And unlike for me, it is not even written down for them where they can see it, if only they would read it.

Many foster children enter up to three different schools during the course of one school year because they move around so much. Foster parents aren't required to attend parent-teacher conferences or participate in the educational process for foster children. Some foster parents do these things and more. Far too many don't.

Can you imagine not laying eyes on the school your preschooler attends each day? Four-year-old Trey was placed in foster care after his mother overdosed on heroin. His foster mother had never been to his school, had never seen his classroom or met his teacher. As his Guardian Ad Litem, I never felt right about this. Still, Trey stayed in this foster home because his basic needs were being met and we had no reason to move him and no guarantee he would land somewhere better.

If your kids are back in school and you have some time on your hands, think about how you might give some of it to help a foster child. Tutoring or volunteering at schools or non-profits are all good ways to give back to children who really need you in their corner. You might even consider giving the greatest gift of all: opening your heart and home to a child who desperately needs someone to love and protect him or her, and attend parent-teacher conferences. To learn more about fostering, click here.

As for our first day of school, we got lucky. Our wonderful neighbor who works at the middle school was heading out the door just as we were coming around the corner. Disaster avoided. The kindness of a neighbor in my small community put our morning back on track. I think that is exactly what will put our foster kids back on track too.

From One Mother to Another

2009-08-02T22:45:00.006-04:00
"Becoming a mother makes you the mother of all children. From now on each wounded, abandoned, frightened child is yours. You live in the suffering mothers of every race and creed and weep with them. You long to comfort all who are desolate." -Charlotte Gray

Maybe it was the mother in me who led me to choose the career I have. My second child, Grace, was just ten weeks old in 1998 when I started working as a Guardian Ad Litem in Juvenile Court. By day I represented the best interests of abused and neglected infants and toddlers. By night I held my baby and her older sister, Hanna, a little closer and a little longer, desperately wishing that all children could be so loved and protected. And when the guilt over working outside the home crept in, I reminded myself that "my other kids" needed me just as much as my own did.

Each significant moment in my life is measured against my children. My youngest, Ben, had just turned four when a little boy named Marcus Fiesel was reported missing. I watched Ben play with his toy dinosaurs as the evening news flashed the details of the three-year-old foster child. As a mother, I wanted to go join the search for Marcus who was supposedly missing in a park. As a Guardian Ad Litem with a caseload of abused and neglected infants and toddlers, I couldn't help but fear the worst. If he was in foster care, Marcus had already been lost once: lost in a world where social workers took him from his mother because she was unable to care for or protect him. Now he was lost again.

This week marks the third anniversary of the day when Marcus' foster parents locked him in a closet and left him home alone. This week marks the day he died, wrapped in a blanket and packing tape in the sweltering heat of a closet. Three years ago, the remains of his body were dumped in the Ohio River.

When the news reports of Marcus' disappearance and death started flowing in, I immediately focused my attention on supporting my Court Appointed Special Advocates (CASAs) as we digested the news and ensured the safety of each of the 60-plus infants and toddlers we jointly represented. By day, we double- and triple-checked on each of "our kids" and their foster homes. By night, I soaked up the presence of my three kids. I watched Ben sneak into my bed in the middle of the night and for once I let him stay there, as I stroked his hair and cheek while he and my husband slept and I wept.

From one mother to another, I need to tell you that foster children like Marcus still exist in every corner of every community across America. The pieces that come together to build their futures exist in mothers' hearts just like yours. Happy endings do exist for some foster kids, but only when adults come together to make them happen. These children need each and every one of us now more than ever.

This is why I wrote Invisible Kids. To get a glimpse into the worlds of young foster children like Marcus Fiesel, pick up a copy . You will be amazed, heartbroken and uplifted by the stories it contains. Or, check out http://www.invisiblekidsthebook.com/ to get educated and get involved, or to order the book.
Because once you are a mother, it is harder than ever to turn away from children who need you the most.

Community Helps Foster a Bright Future for Former Foster Child

2009-07-03T14:27:00.007-04:00
I admit it. I've been getting discouraged. I've been following the trail of devastation that budget cuts will leave on foster children. It's not pretty. A nagging little voice in my head has been asking if people really do care. I wasn't sure. But happily, I got a resounding YES when I read about a foster child success story. And it's even out of Cincinnati.

Susan Zaghlool became a ward of the state at age 12 and remained in care until she was an adult. Today, she is a twenty-something-year-old woman who just graduated with her doctorate in pharmacy. She got by with a little help from her friends, who came in the form of various guardian angels. Some were paid child welfare professionals. Many were not. All were decent people willing to give a hand to a young girl who was on her own at age 18. Read HERE about Susan and the average community citizens who helped her.

We can take a lesson from mentor John Kasak and his wife, Audrey, who have mentored Susan and been a part of her life for years, helping her with college applications and budgeting money, among countless other tasks. Or Barbara and Marshall Grimes, who gave Susan a scholarship for school, along with care packages of homemade cookies and Christmas gifts to let her know she is supported and loved.

These interventions are the kinds that mean the difference between success and failure for foster children like Susan who do not have family to fall back on. Can you be a mentor? A care- package-maker? Can you help a foster child shop for a car or file their taxes? Surely there is something you can do to help a kid who is trying to make it. The help you give strengthens kids like Susan and builds communities of people who take care of each other.

And that doesn't cost our crumbling government system anything.

To learn more about Hamilton County's Foster Care Enrichment Council, visit The Foster Child Enrichment Council. To mentor a foster child, visit Cincinnati Youth Collaborative . To be an advocate for a foster child, visit Prokids.

Tales of Two Seven-Year-Olds

2009-06-21T23:05:00.014-04:00
My son Ben will be seven years old next month. After two weeks of a very loose tooth, it's finally under his pillow while he awaits the arrival of the legendary fairy. For at least a week, his cousins, aunts and uncles asked him when he would finally part with this tooth that's been hanging by a thread. There was even a bribe of five dollars from Ed's brother, who thought it would be best to get it out as opposed to the devastation of losing it at some random time. No such luck.

But last night out it came. There were high fives in the air all around the pool as the uncles manned the grill and the cousins swam.

Another little boy named Gabriel Myers turned seven-years-old last January. I wonder if he ever had a loose tooth? Did anyone notice if he did? Did he ever hear about the tooth fairy? Did he ever experience Sunday dinner with a family?

Gabriel Myers was a Florida foster child. Child welfare professionals were alerted to his arrival shortly after his birth. He was two days old when his mom was crushing up pills and snorting them in the hospital where he was born. Six years later, he and his dog were found in the back of his mother's car in 2008. She was passed out on drugs in the front seat. He likely lost his dog when he was placed in a foster home.

He bounced around in between relatives and foster homes until April 15, 2009. On that day, he was sitting in the lunchroom at school alone with his head bent down. A therapist walked toward him and he grabbed her hand. "My tummy hurts. I want to go home."

What home did he mean? His foster home? His grandparents home? His aunt and uncle? His former foster home?

We will never know what home he meant, although it is pretty clear from his child welfare file that he never had the kind of home where his extensive emotional and behavioral needs could be managed. He had been physically and sexually abused and was on multiple medications.

On April 16, 2009 seven-year-old Gabriel hanged himself with an extendable showerhead in the bathroom of his foster home. At age seven, Gabriel was done with this world and his life. You can read all about his journey in foster care Here.

In Florida, child welfare professionals and others are doing everything they can to review his case, look to see if and where blame lies, set new policies and laws and all the other things we do when children die in foster care.

But it is not enough and it will never be enough until average moms and dads, aunts, uncles and cousins embrace these foster children who are traumatized and so very needing and vulnerable.

As hard as it will be, please take 15 minutes and read the attachment detailing Gabriel's life and death. Take a step into the world of this little boy with the hurt tummy who wanted to go home. Think about the 500,000 children in foster care who desperately need all the support, advocacy and love they can possibly get. When you're done reading, drop me a line or two with your comments.

And if you are lucky enough to have a tooth-fairy-believing little one in your life, hold him a little closer and know that you make his world better and his future brighter if you join the ranks of people across our nation who have vowed to improve the lives of foster children.

A Recent Speaking Engagement

2009-06-14T21:02:00.007-04:00
Not too long ago I was a guest speaker for a very intimidating group. I've spoken to groups as large as 700 people before and done radio shows broadcast to thousands without much trouble, but this particular group made me feel like I was back in third grade giving my first oral report. I entered the building, putting one foot in front of the other as if I was heading to a prison cell to serve out a very long sentence. Finally I arrived at my destination. Seventy sets of eyes were cast on me. These eyes belonged to sixth-graders.

I had come to their school to talk to them about foster children. Their Religion Teacher had read my book, Invisible Kids, and was convinced that everyone could do something to help, even other children. I wasn't entirely sure of this at first, but agreed to come anyway. In the days prior, I wondered what to say to them. Striking a balance between being realistic about the challenges foster children face while not overwhelming my pre-teen audience could be a challenge.

We started by discussing what they would take with them if they had to leave their homes. After some interesting chatter, we easily moved into the topics of living with strangers, how hard that would be and what it would be like to not know day to day what life might bring. We talked about the gifts of kindness and friendship and how important it is to welcome newcomers, because you never know what troubles the person sitting in the desk next to you is facing. Life can be hard sometimes. We get through it by helping each other.

My hour with the kids flew by and as I left the school, I thought maybe I should consider being a teacher when I grow up. I enjoyed them.

Several weeks later a fat envelope arrived from the students. When I opened the package I sat quietly and read each and every letter from all seventy students. "When I get older I think I would like to have a job where I could help kids who need me." "Thank you for telling us about foster children. I didn't know there are so many children who need loving families." "My family has started including foster children in our prayers at night." The comments went on and on.

In a world where there is often more bad news than good, it is good to be reminded that as long as we keep trying, as long as we keep sending out a little good every day, we are bound to have an impact sometime. It is much more pleasant to live this way than to throw our hands up in the air, turn our backs and curse the darkness.

I guess their wise teacher was right. She knew all along that even children can do something to help foster children. Someday, these sixth graders, along with millions of others, will step into their futures and leadership roles. And when they do, how wonderful it would be if we nurtured their hearts to care for the vulnerable, the lost and forgotten.

Is Cincinnati near The Tipping Point?

2009-06-02T23:15:00.009-04:00
I'm reading The Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell right now. My brother-in-law, the eternal entrepreneur who is forever giving me ideas on how to boost book sales, passed it along and suggested I read it. The back cover reads, "The Tipping Point is that magic moment when an idea, trend, or social behavior crosses a threshold, tips, and spreads like wildfire." One more drop in the bucket and the floodgates open.

One more drop hit the bucket this week in Cincinnati, Ohio. Actually, three more drops.

The three drops are a nineteen-year-old mother, her nine-month-old son and a three-year-old toddler she was babysitting. All were found shot dead inside her home, apparently the victims of a domestic violence altercation between the mom and her boyfriend. Just in case you are thinking, "Come again? Really?", I'll repeat it. Someone shot a baby in the head. A baby. And his mother. And the three-year-old she was babysitting.

Certainly nothing magic about that. But stay with me here, I'm going somewhere with this.

Watching the news tonight, (I have to stop doing that before going to bed!) something was very different than in many homicide cases in Downtown Cincinnati's Over-The-Rhine. Most times residents and others look the other way. When the police knock on doors and search out information, they are met with silence. Many crimes go unreported and even more remain unsolved. Not this time.

People are speaking out. They are pushing past their fear or whatever held them back before. They seem to be saying, Enough is enough. We will no longer look the other way. We will stand together and stare down this evil. We want a better life for our children and our families.

Maybe this is the social behavior that can spread like wildfire and result in a coming together of our communities. Maybe the rest of us can find that courage and passion and do the same for the foster children who live in every area of our city and the struggling families who need our help and support.

Dare I say, I think Cincinnati is on the verge of a Tipping Point. And not a moment too soon.

A Rare Gift

2009-05-25T18:43:00.004-04:00
Life handed me one of those rare gifts a couple of weeks ago when I was reunited with a young man I had known 15 years ago.

He was five years old when I removed him from his drug-addicted, neglectful mother. I was his Children's Services worker at the time. I vividly recall finding him home alone in the middle of the day, with no food and clutter strewn throughout the apartment. The police were called and his mother was arrested as I received an emergency order of custody from a magistrate, allowing me to place him in foster care. I strapped him in the back of my white Ford Taraus and delivered him to an emergency foster home in Cincinnati.

I had often wondered what had happened to that sweet little guy, particularly when my own little boy turned five. I got my answer when he and I came face to face at an unexpected meeting.

He stood before me two weeks ago, a meeting orchestrated by another child welfare professional. He was all grown up now. Even so, I could see a hint of the little boy with chubby cheeks. He wrapped me in a bear hug and thanked me for saving his life. Tears swimming in his eyes and mine, we talked for an hour while I answered his questions about his early life and he filled me in on his subsequent childhood spent in "the system," bounced from one foster home to the next until he was 17.

The system didn't provide a magic answer for him. It usually offered a bed and some food and nothing more. Out of all the thirty-plus foster homes he lived in, only one he referred to as loving. But still, he thanked a caseworker from long ago for saving his life. And that spoke volumes about how horrendous it would have been for him to remain with his mother.

Surely we can do better. We can put our heads together and figure out better ways to raise our children who have no one to protect, love and nurture them. Find a way to get involved. The kids are waiting for you to help.

Good News on the Way!

2009-05-17T22:52:00.004-04:00
I'm watching the nightly news as I write this post. I'm two minutes in and have so far heard about a death from Swine Flu in New York, a shooting in Cincinnati's Northside and a church burglarized. I don't know about you, but I've been trying to focus more on good things than bad. Note to self: chronic news watching makes it hard to focus on good.

So to keep my promise about giving you good news with the bad news on foster care, I'd like you to know about something called Every Child's Hope. I even like the name. You don't hear the word 'hope' associated with foster care very often.

Following the death of murdered foster child Marcus Fiesel nearly three years ago, a group of churches came together to begin discussing how the church could respond to the needs of children in foster care. To date, over two dozen churches have joined Every Child's Hope Coalition of Care for Foster Children. The goal: to build community around foster children and families. An upcoming weekend event sponsored by Every Child's Hope features keynote speakers and information sessions all aimed at educating the community on the needs of foster kids and engaging people by offering a number of volunteer opportunities to assist them.

I have long believed that the answers to problems facing these kids will be found in the larger community around them, not necessarily the government system charged with their oversight. The Coalition of Care has so many resources to offer the government system in caring for vulnerable children. As a "system" person, spending most of my time working with government agencies and the court, I know better than anyone about separation of church and state and how careful we must be to honor that. But there is something to be said for community, faith-based or not. And my feeling is, if you have something to offer our children, by all means, step up. The Coalition is doing just that.

And that really is Good News.

Welcome to my Invisible Kids Blog

2009-05-12T11:15:00.005-04:00

It took me six months to finally launch myself into the Blogsphere. For some reason, I find it a little scary to start blogging, which is really funny, because I wrote an entire book. When I was writing my book, Invisible Kids, I imagined myself sitting down with a reader and having a conversation with them about kids in foster care and how we can all do something to help them. My imaginary reader was a nice and interested person.
While blogging, I feel like I’m standing in front of a classroom full of people waiting for me to say something meaningful, if not brilliant. I’ll plow ahead though, assuming you are all as nice and interested as my imaginary readers (who became real, by the way, when my book hit bookshelves in January 2009).

My name is Holly Schlaack. I am a child advocate, author and mother of three. I have spent fifteen years on the front lines of child abuse and neglect, first as a caseworker for Children’s Services and later as a Guardian Ad Litem (GAL), representing the best interests of abused and neglected infants and toddlers in juvenile court.

I’ve learned a lot about children and families over the years, as well as the laws that govern the lives of foster children and the system responsible for overseeing their care when parents fail to protect them. Sometimes the foster care system works. Sometimes it fails. Sometimes it destroys the very children it is designed to save. And when this happens, there are grave consequences not only to the people involved, but also to our entire communities.

I have a passion for these children that is matched by a passionate belief that the time has come for all of us to stand together and fix this broken foster care system. It is the only way we will save children and families. There is something we can all do to help, and the responsibility to do so rests directly on our shoulders. If we are willing to reach out, we can change the course of thousands of lives and directly impact our communities and a future generation.

Child abuse and neglect is a heavy topic and many people don’t want to discuss it because it is sad. Trust me, I know. It is sad. However, there are happy endings too, though they seldom make headlines. And there is little else that brings the kind of satisfaction and joy that comes from playing a small part in a happy ending. You can play that part.

Look for me to post an entry once a week, telling you a little about some of the foster children in our communities and most importantly, how you can get involved and help them. I welcome your comments and look forward to our discussions about abused and neglected children and making the world a safer, more loving place for each one of them.
To learn more about me, my work experience and the book I was drawn to write, please visit www.hollyschlaack.com.