Nobody in the house has slept a wink.
The mentally handicapped young man staying with us has been panicking all night; he’s distressed, but it’s hard to explain to him that everything is okay given the severity of his handicap.
My stepdad finally manages to get him calm enough to go to his institution. In the meantime, my mum rushes off to her school where she teaches one pupil from the foster care organisation she works for, leaving me to get the girls under our care ready to go to their school. I drop them off, come home and barely get through the door before my phone rings – one of the girls has run away. It’s barely nine in the morning and we’ll eventually find her, with the help of local police, at nine in the evening.
Welcome to the life of a foster family.
“We’ve had as many different issues as we have children. Our role? To give them a break from their lives, a safe space to think about their future”
My mother is a foster carer, meaning that her job is to take in and look after the children of strangers. She has been taking in short-term and emergency placements and has had over 10 kids stay for times varying from six weeks to two years. Children usually come to us because their parents are either neglectful, abusive or simply overwhelmed. Given that we take emergency placements, we’ve had as many different issues as we have children. Our role? To give them a break from their lives, a safe space to think about their future, and the help they need to overcome their issues.
Having a foster carer as a parent means your home essentially becomes a place of work. On one hand that’s great, because theoretically your parent has more time for you when you are home. In practice though, the kids who come into our care need near-constant attention – understandable given their difficult pasts. This means every family gathering, every visit to a family friend, every party and indeed every single day is dominated by and revolves around the foster children. It can be tiring and, on an utterly selfish level, you sometimes just want your family back.
Because your house becomes a professional environment, you have to act mature, tolerant and understanding at all times. Even when all you want to do is have a hissy fit about the perceived slights, the lack of respect as well as the constant need for these kids to make their presence known at all times.
Privacy is a massive issue too. It’s hard to vent your feelings – because you don’t want to hurt theirs, but they seem to have ears everywhere too. It’s also hard to have a private conversation with a parent without being interrupted, or simply, you know, privately. Obviously, the result of pent-up frustration seems to be a 1,000-word personal essay for HuffPost.
“Although relationships can be strained and petty arguments arise, being a foster family is also fun”
As you’d expect, many of the kids are angry. It’s hard not to be when you’ve been taken from your family to be placed with strangers. We have been insulted, physically threatened, they have lied to us, stolen from us, hit on our boyfriends and hidden alcohol away when coming back from holiday. It’s difficult to remember, rationalise or care about the reasons why the foster kids are the way they are when it’s your own family being treated in that way.
In the more extreme case we’ve had two of the foster kids who lived with us slipped death threats under my sister’s bedroom door at night. She was thirteen at the time. If I’m honest, my sister is possibly the one to have suffered the most from being exposed to the behaviours and difficult lives of foster kids. After all, my brother and I have left the house and she has been exposed to the foster kids for a longer period of time. Not to mention that she was much younger when it all started and has suffered over not being able to have the full attention of our parents.
It’s not all bad though, although relationships can be strained and petty arguments arise, being a foster family is also fun. Nothing beats the excitement of being able to show movies they’ve never watched (some of them have never seen Disney movies), buy them presents or teach them how to do things they’ve never been able to do. We’ve been canoeing, gone shopping with them, taught them how to ride horses, been sightseeing. Most of them will, after some time, eventually become an extension of our family and we treat them like part of it.
Of course, the nature of the job means that at some point, they will have to leave. Despite resentments and petty arguments, it’s always sad to see them move away. As I’m writing this, one of the girls we have here is preparing to leave. It’s a bittersweet moment as you’re proud they have come so far, but also worried they will end up back to square one. Most of them manage to make it in the end, finding apprenticeships or jobs or head out to explore the world. Sometimes they even stay in touch. But there are those that fall off the radar completely, and each time it feels like a failure on our part.
“Mum has always tried to teach us to help those less fortunate, and avoid judging as well as being compassionate towards others. In a way, being a foster family felt very natural for us.”
I honestly don’t think my mum’s job has changed who I am that much. My mother has spent her life helping others and even built an annexe for a man who was about to lose everything. He stayed with us from the time I was eight to the day he died last year and was very much a part of our family. Mum has always tried to teach us to help those less fortunate, and avoid judging as well as being compassionate towards others. In a way, being a foster family felt very natural for us.
My mum’s job has, however, made me appreciate my own family more as well as make me understand what a privilege it is to grow up in a stable home with caring parents. More importantly, it’s also made me more aware of the fact that you don’t really know what happened to people before they enter your life and I do try to be understanding of other people’s situations. Especially more understanding of the situation of the parents whose kids come to us. After all, they’re often the product of abuse themselves and no one wants their kids taken away from them.
I also reckon this job has given me the conflict resolution skills and expertise of a hostage negotiator as well as the cool headedness of a bomb diffuser. So I guess I can always put that on my CV.
Andy Gorman is a freelance journalist. Follow her on Twitter at @andyfgorman
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