Do you ever wonder what it would be like to travel the world? Buy a new house or new car? Live in a home for more than a year or to have a bed in that home? To live in a home free of drugs, alcohol, domestic violence, abuse, neglect, or to actually have parents that care about your well being rather than you having to raise your siblings?
Dreams. We all have them, especially when we are kids. When someone asks us what we want to be when we grow up there are some typical answers such as a teacher, a veterinarian, or an astronaut. For me, my dream was to grow up to have five children and live on welfare. Growing up in poverty, that was my option, I didn’t know anything else really existed for people like me. Deep inside I knew there were more options though, but who would show me those options?
As human beings, we all want to be loved, it’s innate within us to love and be loved. Those who grow up in the system often feel unloved, unwanted, and unknown. We walk through the hallways of schools, the streets of our towns and we can’t see two steps in front of us because we are too busy making sure we don’t trip and get laughed at. Because of shame, embarrassment, and fear we hold ourselves back from believing we can become more than what our circumstances have offered us. But secretly we want more, to be more, to change the status quo set before us. It is through resiliency, tenacity, and perseverance that we push forward, not knowing what’s in store for us.
All my life I remember my mom drinking alcohol and using drugs. Domestic violence was a constant occurrence in our home. I was used to all of this, protecting my siblings, and often trying to protect my mom. My siblings and I endured physical abuse and emotional abuse all too often. At the age of 10 I had gone to my school counselor to let them know that I was being sexually abused by a neighbor and what was going on in my home. Nobody came to help. So by the time I was in Minnesota I didn't really trust anyone to help us.
At the age of 14 I was a shy girl who had just moved to Minnesota and the smallest town I had ever seen. I had been living with my grandparents for a short time in Las Vegas, Nevada.
My mom, her boyfriend, and my two younger siblings had already moved to Minnesota to get settled. After growing up in Seattle, I was not impressed. Talk about culture shock! The town didn’t even have a stoplight! Being the new girl in town, everybody already knew who I was. We didn’t have a vehicle so we had to walk across town, about a mile, with our dirty laundry so we could have clean clothes. We lived in a two bedroom house that was approximately 600 square feet.
Just another typical night in our home, my mom and her boyfriend had come home drunk and passed out. The following morning I got up for school and realized I had to get my clean school clothes out of their room. I flipped the light on and the next thing I knew I was being slammed into the bedroom wall with such force my head left a hole in the sheetrock. Tears flooded my eyes between sobs of pain and sobs of feeling unloved.
That was the day I decided enough was enough. I went to my school counselor and showed them the damage, even though they could only see the physical remnants of my morning, they would never know the emotional destruction that had taken place over the past 14 years. Child protective services came, photographed, asked questions, and listened. My siblings and I were removed from my mother’s house that day. My mom was crying and I felt guilty. But why should I feel guilty? For betraying my mom, for telling someone outside of our family what was only meant to stay in our family, for getting my mom’s boyfriend in trouble, and for making my family go through the pain and agony that would be forever remembered. Of course, looking back on it now, I know none of it was my fault and I did what was right. But at that moment in time, with the coping skills I lacked, and the things that had been ingrained in my mind from others, I was the problem.
Thankfully, my siblings and I were able to all go to the same home. It was warm and loving. They took us to church, family get togethers, and included us in everything they did. I am thankful for the home we were placed in, thankful for their acceptance and love. We had the privilege of feeling safe and taken care of, even if only for a short time.
We were eventually reunified with my mom and her boyfriend after they completed a rehabilitation program for the drug and alcohol use. A few months went by without incident, they were clean and sober, it was kind of weird. Then they would stop coming home after going to the store, walking in hours later reeking of alcohol and stumbling around with no remorse for what they had just done.
At the end of my sophomore year of high school my mom and ,now, step-dad decided they wanted to up and move out of state just two weeks before the end of the school year. I didn’t get a chance to finish my 10th grade year. We spent that time traveling between many states, camping in campgrounds, and living out of our car. We were homeless. Picture this: Two adults, a 15 year old, an 8 year old, a 5 year old, 2 dogs, and all our belongings crammed into a tiny, white Chevy Chevette.
We landed in Grand Junction, Colorado, first living in an established campground and then moving to a canyon with a creek. We bathed in the creek, ate sandwiches, and lived in a tent for about two months. When we finally moved into an apartment there was a huge argument between my mom and I where she accused me of using drugs and sleeping around with different men. At this time, I was still a virgin and had never used drugs or drank alcohol. My own mother came at me, I was scared, and I slapped her. It’s not something I am proud of, I didn’t know what else to do at that moment. That was the first time I ever ran away. Shortly after that I went to live with my cousin in Seattle for a year. I worried about my siblings and what was happening but it was obvious, I wouldn’t be able to protect them from the choices my mom made.
I returned to my mom who had moved back to Minnesota and for the 2nd time, I ended up in foster care at the age of 17, a senior in high school, and without my siblings. My step-dad didn’t want me having any contact with my biological father’s family and this caused some huge tension in the home where we lived without running water, a bathroom, or heat. It was a trailer on a piece of land with electricity and an outhouse. I was miserable, not only because of the living conditions, but because my step-dad emotionally abused us and they were still drinking and using drugs. For whatever reason, my siblings remained in the home with my mom and step dad.
As you may recall earlier, I didn’t complete my 10th grade classes. I returned to school and was told I would need to retake all those classes from that last sophomore semester. My step-dad told me I would never graduate high school and would never amount to anything. I was broken. I felt defeated. Looking back on that moment, I see how it pushed me to excel, to prove others wrong, and that in the face of defeat, I would succeed!
And yet another blow to my life came in the form of being told I would need to leave my current foster home after I graduated, which would be a week later. My foster parents were good foster parents but they weren’t loving, warm, and affectionate. They didn’t have a desire to help me past graduation of high school. This was 1995, prior to any laws passed to help foster youth transitioning out of foster care, otherwise known as “aging out.” I was only 17 years old at the time and wouldn’t turn 18 for 3 more months yet once I graduated high school the state no longer needed to provide care for me. I had experienced more than anyone should ever experience in a lifetime, and I was alone, with nowhere to go, without a family, at no fault of my own. It was like I was being punished for a crime I hadn’t committed. Where was I supposed to go and what was I supposed to do? The life skills class they offered me while I was in foster care did not prepare me for this.
Fortunately, my mom and step-dad surprised me by driving from Colorado to Minnesota, showing up at my graduation, packing the few belongings I had into their truck, and driving me back to Colorado with them. To this day it amazes me that the child welfare system thought that since I had graduated high school I would magically be safe with my family again and the abuse wouldn’t continue. The drinking and drugs continued only now there would be peer pressure for me to try it with them. I was not interested in becoming like them, I didn’t want my life to turn out like theirs. Often times I refer to my mom as a reverse role model. She taught me everything I didn’t want to do with my life. Although, I must admit, even though my mom had a hard time being a parent, she would always be there for me. She may have been drunk or high at the time but she would always be there. Like my grandma always said, blood is thicker than water and you always need to be there for your blood.
Once again, a couple of months later my family left to move to another state and I stayed in Colorado, working three jobs, and staying with a friend. I wish I could tell you I stayed away from alcohol but I can’t. Thankfully, I always had the image of my mother in my head and constantly reminded myself I would not be like her. The owners of one of the places I worked at approached me and asked if I had ever thought about going to college. It was talked about in high school but I was just trying to survive and graduate at that time, I wasn’t thinking about the future. My eyes were still on the ground, not looking those two steps in front of me.
They offered to take me to take the ACT and help me enroll if I would be interested. I thought, “sure, why not. What have I got to lose?” I still remember the day they picked me up. They even took me out to breakfast before the test. Something so simple and small, yet I remember it vividly to this day. This couple who had no expectations of me, wanting nothing in return. They were my guardian angels. I was accepted to college! It took me 12 years to graduate with my Bachelor’s degree in Psychology; counseling, but I DID IT! It was a struggle for sure. When you grow up in a family such as mine you don’t have a lot of support. There isn’t anyone to look over your papers, keep you focused, watch your child when you have class, or just be a supportive ear when you need it.
No, I don’t have five children. My daughter was born when I was 22 years old. I was a single mom for a short period of time while I was attending college. I worked two jobs while enrolled. I pushed myself harder than I had ever pushed myself, without anyone there cheering me on. I never told my story about foster care, I didn’t want sympathy, pity, or to be looked down on. I’ve always been an independent and very guarded person.
No, I never received any money from welfare, not even food stamps. There was time where I was on medicaid for health insurance and received WIC (Women, Infants, and Children). At one point when I was a single mom and met with someone to find out about TANF (temporary aid for needy families) to learn what I needed to do to get some help but the woman I met with looked down her nose at me and told me I couldn’t be on it forever. It was then that I realized I didn’t need it, I would do it without their condescending attitudes or judgmental glares. I had been doing it my whole life.
I married in 2006 to a wonderful and caring man who has been the most supportive person in my life. After graduating college in 2008 I stayed home for a year with our newborn son, I went on to work for a non-profit organization, building a program from the ground up to provide community based case management and work with families in need. Three years after that I went to work for the county as a child protection senior case manager, working to keep families together while keeping the kids safe and investigating child abuse and neglect. I thought it was the only way I could give back the same way my social worker had helped me and my siblings. Working with these families I found I was able to easily relate to them and have the understanding that they needed, rather than being judgmental.
Four years later I came to the realization that I was voluntarily putting myself back in the same situations I had worked so hard to remove myself from. I went into homes to investigate abuse and neglect, but hearing their stories, smelling the stale alcohol, seeing the drug use, seeing the bruises on mothers and children, having to remove children from homes and listen to them cry, watching the parents break down, it was too much. It broke my heart. I knew there had to be a different way to help, to make change, instead of hurting myself emotionally and allowing it to spill over into my own family.
Today I can honestly say I am loved and most importantly that I have learned to love myself. I am loved by my supportive husband of 10 years and by my two amazing children who will never know abuse and neglect. Recently, I had the privilege of walking my 16 year old daughter through the doors of the college I graduated from so she could take a test to place her in a college class while she is in high school. It was definitely a high light and spoke to my heart the importance of breaking the cycle and seeing my children flourish.
I am a different person because I chose to change the course of my life through decisions that benefited myself and my future family. The cycle has been broken. Even though a lot of healing has happened, the memories are still there. I don’t regret anything that I have been through, they have brought me to where I am today and made me into the person I was meant to be.
Through community awareness, sharing our stories, and rising above our circumstances we will be able to end the stigma of foster care and show the world that foster youth matter, that we make a difference, that we are the other side of the statistics, that we ARE amazing and oh so worth it!
We have a long way to go before our communities and society as a whole truly understand who our foster care alumni are and what they do. Once I told a child welfare co-worker that I had aged out of the system when I was 17. Her response was to tell me she thought I had grown up in a middle class family. It got me to thinking….what was I supposed to look like then? Was I supposed to walking around with my garbage bag of clothes, boxes in hand, holes in my clothes, and whatever else a person might imagine a former foster youth would look like? Imagine how we could impact the world if we would look at our experiences as a way to prepare us for what can do to impact the lives of others. They can’t teach in colleges what we know or what we have been through. We are unique, amazing, tenacious, resilient, and persevere in the face of whatever obstacle tries to get in our way. WE ARE ALUMNI SUCCESSES!
Through community awareness, sharing our stories, and rising above our circumstances we will CAN end the stigma of foster care and show the world that foster youth matter, that we make a difference, that we are the other side of the statistics, that we ARE amazing and oh so worth it!
I now run my own business, Be. Inspire. Mentoring, where I am a personal mentor and inspirational speaker. I have the privilege and honor of empowering others to move forward, even when they feel they can’t or that they aren’t good enough to accomplish their dreams. It’s freeing once you break through those bonds that hold you back. You were created for so much more than you can ever imagine, I know, because I was once like you.
Owner/Editor - Chris Chmielewski