Can Little Fleas Biting Take Down a Big Dog?

"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

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

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

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

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

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

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.