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).
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.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Remembering Marcus Fiesel on his Birthday
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Throw Our Foster Kids a Line
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, February 22, 2010
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?
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?
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
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.
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.
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