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.
I am a mother of three, child advocate, and author of Invisible Kids. Here I'll tell you a little about some of the foster children in our communities and most importantly, how you can get involved and help them.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Amy Baker Outrage
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Back To School
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.
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.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
From One Mother to Another
"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.
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.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Community Helps Foster a Bright Future for Former Foster Child
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.
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.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Tales of Two Seven-Year-Olds
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.
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.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
A Recent Speaking Engagement
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.
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.
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