100,001 foster kids
I heard on NPR this morning that over 100,000 foster children are up for adoption in America right now. Saturday is National Adoption Day and the report explored the fact that there are so many hurdles in the way to adopting these kids. I wonder how many of those 100,000 children were consulted in the matter. I wonder how many of them do not want to be adopted; that if they could choose, would much rather their parent(s) get proper treatment so that they could live together again. It made me think of a story from my own childhood:
When I was five, I lived in a foster home in Hyde Park, MA at which I’d spent well over a year. I hadn’t seen my mom in all that time. To give you some background, my mom and I were (and always have been) extremely close. The first year of my life (before I went into my first foster home) was a very strong bonding period. At five, I couldn’t even picture her anymore, but I missed the memory of her terribly every day and often cried myself to sleep at night wishing she was there to take me home with her. I created imaginary friends to help me cope through that period, and boy, do I remember them fondly.
The foster parents I was living with weren’t abusive, but weren’t that loving either. I didn’t care for them all that much. I have some icky memories of being made to scrub the wall with soapy water after I scribbled on it with crayons and having my foster mother sharply yank on my long hair when she brushed it. To this day, I am still surprised to know that they wanted to adopt me. You’d think I would’ve remembered some affection from them if adoption was their desire.
My mom had been out of the mental hospital for a good long while and was living and working in a Boston suburb. This was common procedure after being released; she would establish herself and prove some job stability before the state would start up visits between us again. However, this time, in a routine meeting, my social worker handed her a recent photo of me and told her, “Keep this picture of your daughter now. You’ll never see her again.” My mom freaked, found out about the adoption plans, and caught a late-night bus to Hyde Park. She smashed the glass on the front door of my foster home and broke in, calling my name. I remember that night vividly. I woke up and came bounding down the stairs and into her embrace.
My foster parents called the cops, naturally. I recall sitting alone on the couch in the wee hours of the night with the TV flickering in front of me and the red and blue of the police car sirens spinning outside the window beside me. I was transferred into a new foster home a few days later. They decided they didn’t want to adopt me after all, not when everyone could see that my mother and I were so attached (and that my mother was willing to raise hell to see me). Life continued as normal once I was moved. We started up visits again and I returned to live with mom in Somerville in the summer of 1982, when I was six.
I don’t remember ever being asked if I wanted to be adopted by my foster parents. If I was asked, I would’ve vehemently opposed the idea. My mother’s feelings on the matter certainly were not considered and she was even in a clear space at that time. I’m really not trying to make an individualistic fallacy here and claim all of those 100,000 foster kids feel the way I did, but I do wonder where their feelings rank in the order of consultation regarding adoption. Although I didn’t want to live with mom when she was manic and was often the one who notified friends and authorities when she was, I always wanted to return once she was “functional” again.
If you’re interested in learning more, I recommend the paper I wrote in 2002 on the foster care system. I’ve received amazing feedback on the paper over the years from many, including administrators, social workers, and foster parents.
Asher Abrams said,
November 18, 2004 @ 7:46 pm
Wow.
Emily, thanks for sharing this. I think you are right to wonder what role, if any, young people are allowed to play in determining their own fate.
My ex and I got involved in an adoption back in 1995. The birth father was a manipulative man with a history of domestic violence; he had had an affair with this very nice young woman (both were married to other people) and had gotten her pregnant. She wanted to give the baby up for adoption; he tried to block the adoption. We adopted the baby from her at birth. The birth father fought it. We were in court for three years, but we finally prevailed. When it was all done, we realized our marriage had no future and we split up, but we kept working together to raise Daniel.
My own childhood wasn’t perfect either. Mom was mentally ill, and she drank. She finally went on the wagon, but she was still very disturbed and often emotionally abusive. My sister had substance abuse problems too, and died at the age of 28 (some twelve years ago now).
The good news is that Daniel (who turns nine in December) is a terrific little guy and I think he’s going to be OK. He lives with his mom in San Francisco and I visit with him as often as I can. He’s coming up to Portland for Thanksgiving weekend.
I don’t know if there’s a lesson in all of this, except that growing up can be really, really tough, and I don’t think our institutions understand this very well. I’m glad you were able to be re-united with your mother - even flawed parents often have a lot to offer. (I try to keep that in mind when I think what a terribly “flawed” parent I must be.) Your harsh experiences with foster care have clearly left you with a special understanding of the needs of foster kids, and I am certain that someone of your sensitivity will be able to make very positive contributions in this field.
Again, thanks for posting this, and all the best to you.
leblanc said,
November 23, 2004 @ 9:55 am
that really almost made me cry.
thank you for sharing, and for emphasizing a problem people like to pretend doesn’t exist.
nishgyrl said,
November 23, 2004 @ 10:28 am
hi. i came here via the mighty leblanc.
you’ve really touched upon a subject that i feel really strongly about with regards to the paternalistic nature of the way in which we go about adoptions in this country… don’t even get me started on transracial adoptions. but, from what i understand about the psychology of adoptees, 99.99% of the time, they would prefer to be with their birth parents…
(nicetomeetchooze)
rowan said,
November 27, 2004 @ 2:01 pm
I also thank you for sharing this. I went through the foster care adoption rodeo and do not have many pleasant stories to share. However, in the process I got asked exactly twice what I wanted.
First, when they had the separation hearing and asked who I wanted to live with. I said my mom, and they put me out for fostering.
The second time was right before the adoption hearing. They asked if I wanted to be adopted by my foster parents. I was 10 at the time and told them definitely NOT. I didn’t even want to live with them because they were abusive. Twenty minutes later the adoptions papers were signed.
Even if asked, kids are not necessarily hear.
I get SO griped about the adoption issue because it hits so many other issues - like “right to life” though once you are born they don’t seem to care. Or who is “adoptable” and who isn’t. Or “aging out of the system. Or children as property to be conveyed from one owner to another. Or the racist and culturally destructive aspects of the whole process.
Well, I’ll stop before I roll too far. Thanks for discussing it and it was a great paper that you wrote!
thedr9wningman said,
November 30, 2004 @ 11:26 am
Prolifers need to read this shit… It isn’t all cake and cookies.
Maybe I’m callous, maybe not, but this is really unfortunate. You are not my example, so don’t get wonked…
I think the problem of unwanted children is a major issue, here and everywhere else. It is unwanted children who contribute to the poverty of their unprepared parents. It is unwanted children who are eventually either loved, cherished, abused, beaten, or all of the above. It is unwanted children who are thrown into war because they want so badly to escape their current situation. It is unwanted children who, ultimately, whether rich or poor in upbringing, lead a lower quality life than kids who are wanted.
It is not fair to bring children into a world that they are not cherished and loved for the possibilities that they can bring to the world. It isn’t fair to them to have their spirit crushed by harsh realities. I’d rather they not be here at all than to be crushed up and spit out by the system in place for the ‘unplanned’.
MonkeyGurl said,
March 13, 2008 @ 2:47 pm
I think what you wrote really touches on a part of life that not many people out there think about too much.
I have a friend that would have given anything to be with her mother again so I can deffinently see where you’re comming from.