My biggest challenge

I’m a writer by trade. I’ve always wanted to be a writer. I love to put my feelings into words. Yet, in the last month, I’ve been having a very difficult time vocalizing what’s happening in my life. It’s not because it’s been sad or difficult or anything like that. It’s mostly because there is someone new in my life who I care very deeply for who I feel this deep need to protect. I want to protect his identity, his story, his life. I don’t want to overstep any boundaries or crush any trust. I recognize the life he has lived has not been easy and so I tread lightly on this relationship we’ve built. But honestly—it’s a fantastic relationship. He’s an amazing kid.

I’ve been asked to write a blog post for an organization that helps recruit foster parents about the first few weeks of being a foster parent. I’m having difficulty deciding what to write. I feel like anything I write about my case probably won’t apply to their case so it’s not very helpful. I keep writing drafts and then deleting them so I guess I’ll post this one. It may not apply to other foster parents, but it’s true for me:

I think the biggest challenge about becoming a new foster parent, for me, is pretending I’m not one. We’re asked as foster parents to protect the child in our care by protecting their privacy and their story. We’re told it’s a good idea to let the child decide what they feel comfortable calling you and to never share their background. This is done for several reasons. You want to maintain confidentiality so the potentially dangerous situation the child was taken out of does not follow them. You also don’t want this child, who has been through so much, to feel like an outsider. They should feel welcome. They should feel normal. I get that.

Then I look at this child. This child who has been through more than I can imagine. He has suffered mental and physical pain I don’t think I could bare. He has been shuffled in and out of twice as many homes as I have had in my lifetime in a matter of years. He has had very few role models and mentors along the way. He can’t remember the last school he has stayed at for an entire year. And yet—he is awesome. 

Through everything he has been through he has a hope for the future. He dreams of family. He strives to be kind and compassionate. He is funny and lighthearted. He is outgoing and smart. 

All of that is great enough to be celebrated on its own but when I pair it with his past I am blown away. I want to scream from the rooftops that yes, children in foster care come from difficult pasts, but they—he--is amazing. I want everyone to know I’m a foster parent because I want them to know this child, this is a foster child. Stereotypes or scary myths of children in foster care do not apply here.