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Foster Care Quotes

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Foster Care Quotes

“Just as it was in Kempe’s time, the rate of removals today has less to do with the literal rate of physical abuse or neglect and more to do with a fickle public intermittently enraged by what they hear on the news. When kids die at the hands of their parents, headlines put child protection agencies under intense and sudden scrutiny. Investigators increase their removals, hoping to avoid another high-profile fatality.”

“There has long been an iron rule in American social welfare policy: conditions must be worse for the dependent poor than for anyone who works. The seldom-acknowledged corollary is that the subsidized care of other people's children must be undesirable enough, or scarce enough, to play a role in this system of deterrence. In the late nineteenth century, charity reformer Josephine Shaw Lowell expressed this view when she insisted that the "honest laborer" should not see the children of the drunkard "enjoy advantages which his own may not hope for.”

“Can I play with the dolls now please Nan?” Caroline asked gently. “Yes with pleasure” nan replied. Caroline sat still for five minutes a little bit closer to our group playing cards and then gingerly said “where is it Nan?” As she clutched the one doll she’d been allowed to play with. “Where’s what?” Nan asked sighing like she'd been stopped mid way to picking up fifty pounds. “The pleasure?” Caroline replied innocently unaware of what it was she was saying. This story was retold by Nan many times when someone asked about Caroline to point out how unwell mentally she was and why she was under whichever punishment nan had designated for her at the time. Caroline had no mental problems. She had a stutter because she had been scared so much as a child. Unfortunately the story sums up how nan was with girls perfectly. There was no pleasure.”

“...it takes a special person to be a great foster parent, someone who realizes that the child he or she is receiving isn't perfect and probably is carrying a lot of heavy emotional baggage and bad habits. But that understanding and acceptance are essential if foster parents truly hope to bring any sense of normalcy to the child living with them in their home. The rest is all uphill from there.”

“The atmosphere inside was terrible. Brenda stared into the distance whenever I was around her and hardly spoke to me. Little Jim passed me in the hall “you shouldn’t have done that” he said without malice. Was he scared too? Why was everyone scared? What didn’t I know? I walked into the kitchen “Hi Brenda, what should I do now I’m late for tea?” I asked her honestly. “You can do whatever you choose Tracie” she said staring through the kitchen window. It kind of reminded me of my first memory of mum. I was shocked she sounded like she really didn’t care. She wasn’t even fake caring any more she just plain didn’t give a shit. “Thanks” I said and walked towards the living room where Caroline and Rita were sat. Rita got up and walked past me to go to bed. “What’s going on?” I said to Caroline. “We didn’t know where you were” she said shaking her head at me. Did nobody get it?”

“To this day I'll never know whether he planned to off me or was just getting a huge rise out of taking me back to where he killed my mother. Perhaps he intended to teach me a lesson and tie me up in the cave, gag me and leave me there for an hour to convince me he could kill me if he wanted to, or perhaps he was genuine and wanted to have a laugh and a joke around the caves in the only way he knew how - by being a complete idiot. I have no idea however at the time it all felt very real and his intentions about killing me genuine or not he was definitely getting a kick out of being back where he killed my mother.”

“Macclesfield was like a wound I couldn't stop picking. I didn't know if I'd ever heal or if my constant pulling at the scab would leave me open to infection but I did know I had to keep doing it. I had to find out what lay beneath each layer of skin even if it meant that I felt more and more pain. It could have been another form of self harm or it could have been a part of my journey I just had to make. Either way I was compelled to continue. Could I get Jodie and Jonathon back? Could I see them playing again? Would Courtney accept me into her family? Perhaps I'd belong there until I got my family back together? Okay so I couldn't grow up with Alan as I'd liked but I could try and fit in with Clive and Phil. The thought hurt, I could easily turn to crime but how would that help with the social services?”

“Children are taught to look down on their nurses (nannies), to treat them as mere servants. When their task is completed the child is withdrawn or the nurse is dismissed. Her visits to her foster-child are discouraged by a cold reception. After a few years the child never sees her again. The mother expects to take her place, and to repair by her cruelty the results of her own neglect. But she is greatly mistaken; she is making an ungrateful foster-child, not an affectionate son; she is teaching him ingratitude, and she is preparing him to despise at a later day the mother who bore him, as he now despises his nurse.”

“Sunny was a treat to read. It is most appealing as the story is very well done and the artwork is beautiful. I applaud the author for writing a book to meet the needs of very young children as well as children of elementary school age. I experienced many different feelings as I read the book and I know otehrs will experience the same thing. The guide to further discussion at the end of teh book will be most helpful as foster parents read this story to the children in their care.”

“Otherwise, there were no long goodbyes or emotional scenes. That isn’t part of foster care. You just leave and you just die a little bit. Just a little bit because a little bit more of you understands that this is the way it’s going to be. And you grow hard around the edges, just a little bit. Not in some big way, but just a little bit because you have to, because if you don’t it only hurts worse the next time and a little bit more of you will die. And you don’t want that because you know that if enough little bits of you die enough times, a part of you leaves. Do you know what I mean? You’re still there, but a part of you leaves until you stand on the sidelines of life, simply watching, like a ghost that everyone can see and no one is bothered by. You become the saddest thing there is: a child of God who has given up.”

“I don’t know’,” he said. “Those three words from a willing soul are the start of a grand and magnificent voyage.” And with that he began a discourse that lasted for several weeks, covering scene-setting, establishing conflict, plot twists, and first- and third-person narration. [ I learned in these rapid-fire mini-dissertations that like most literature lovers I would come to know, Henry was a book snob. He assumed that if a current author was popular and widely enjoyed, then he or she had no merit. He made a few exceptions, such as Kurt Vonnegut, although that was mostly because Vonnegut lived on Cape Cod and so he probably had some merits as a human being, if not as a writer. I think that the way Henry saw it was that he was not being a snob. In fact I would venture that in his view of things, snobbery had nothing to do with it. Rather, it was a matter of standards. It was bout quality in the author’s craftsmanship.”

“So he sings,” he continued as if Denny had said nothing. “His solo mio, that with her in his life he is rich because she is so beautiful that she makes the sun more beautiful, you understand?” And at that he dropped the hoe, closed his eyes and spread out his arms wide and with the fading sun shining on his handsome face he sang: Che bella cosa è na jurnata 'e sole n'aria serena doppo na tempesta! Pe' ll'aria fresca pare già na festa Che bella cosa e' na jurnata 'e sole Ma n'atu sole, cchiù bello, oi ne' 'O sole mio sta 'nfronte a te! 'O sole, 'o sole mio sta 'nfronte a te! sta 'nfronte a te! It looked like fun. We dropped our tools and joined him, belting out something that sounded remarkably like Napolitano. We sang as loud as we could, holding on to each note as long as we could before we ran out of breath, and then we sang again, occasionally dropping to one knee, holding our hands over our hearts with exaggerated looks of deep pain. Although we made the words up, we sang with the deepest passion, with the best that we had, with all of our hearts, and that made us artists, great artists, for in that song, we had made all that art is: the creation of something from nothing, fashioned with all of the soul, born from joy. And as that beautiful summer sun set over Waterbury, the Brass City, the City of Churches, our voices floated above the wonderful aromas of the garden, across the red sky and joined the spirits in eternity.”

“It didn’t last long. Not many good things in a foster kid’s life last long. One day, Maura was gone. Her few things were packed in paper bags and a tearful Miss Louisa carried her out to Miss Hanrahan’s black state-owned Ford sedan with the state emblem on the door, and she was gone. The state had found a foster home that would take a little girl but couldn’t take the rest of us. There were no long goodbyes. She was just gone. I remember having an enormous sense of helplessness when they took her. Maura didn’t know where she were going or long she would be there. She was just gone”

“Jews were a frequent topic of conversation with all of the Wozniaks, which was surprising, since none of them had any contact at all with anything even remotely Jewish. While watching television, Walter would point out who was and who was not Jewish and Helen’s frequent comment when watching the television news was, “And won’t the Jews be happy about that!” To bargain with a merchant for a lower price was to “Jew him down,” and that sort of thing. Walter’s mother and father were far worse. They despised the Jews and blamed them for everything from the start of World War I to the Kennedy assassination to the rising price of beef. I didn’t pay much heed to any of this. It wasn’t my problem, and if I were to think through all the ethnic, racial and religious barbs the Wozniaks threw out in the course of a week, I’d think about nothing else. After being told about a part of my mother’s heritage, the Wozniaks began their verbal and cultural assault against us. As odd as it sounds, they might not always have intended to be mean.”

“One afternoon Walter brought Izzy to the house for lunch and, pointing to me, he said to Izzy, “He’s one of your tribe.” Dobkins lifted his head to look at me and after a few seconds said, “I don’t see it.” “The mother’s a Jew,” Walter answered, as if he were describing the breeding of a mongrel dog. “Then you are a Jew,” Izzy said, and sort of blessed me with his salami sandwich.”

“Father, I can’t take this,” I said. “Why not?” “Because you’re a priest, Father.” “And my money’s no good because of it? What are you? A member of the Masonic Lodge?” “Naw, Father,” I said. “I just feel guilty taking money from you.” “Well, you’re Irish and Jewish. You have to feel guilty over somethin’, don’t ya? Take the money and be happy ye have it.”

“Weeks turned into months and a year passed, but I didn’t miss my parents. I missed the memory of them. I assumed that part of my life was over. I didn’t understand that I was required to have an attachment to them, to these people I barely knew. Rather, it was my understanding that I was supposed to switch my attachment to my foster parents. So I acted on that notion and no one corrected me, so I assumed that what I was doing was good and healthy.”

“Many children in the foster care system are often in the midst of a family challenge. Marcus, my husband and I sought to assist families during difficult times. We aren't perfect people, nor are we a perfect family, but these children didn't expect us to be either. They needed a loving home and care, and we tried our best every single day.”

“Even in New York City, we've seen some major improvements from the way the system was 20 years ago. There's still a lot to do - we know that training workers and parents, reducing caseload size, developing therapeutic foster care, strengthening kinship care, and putting more emphasis into preventive care are all solutions. Unfortunately, if a child is in a situation where removal from the home becomes neccessary, there's already been trauma. Putting a traumatized child into a "system," not a home, with strangers is creating a perfect storm for further trauma.”