Doctor's Faith Guides Work with Maltreated Children

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

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

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

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

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

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

"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.