Occasionally I have a good idea

Normally, the Editor’s Notes are the first thing I’ll do to start an issue. It’s a good way to vent about the stresses of the previous issue and a good way to look back to
find ways I can improve for the next month. I said, I normally do that. This month was not normal.

Occasionally I will have a good idea. The result of my good ideas is generally more work for me. I think I’ve proven the work isn’t what scares me, it’s the old foster
care side effect, no confidence.

I am the loudest, most boisterous person you will meet, but behind the confidence, jokes and over energetic persona, is one terrified goofy guy. I have always been this
way. Though deep down I know it isn’t true, I think I’m no good. All the work I do is awful, I can’t write worth a lick. Yup, every month I think my work is horrible,
every cover is an exercise in self-loathing. I’m big on comedians and the majority of comedians don’t think they’re funny.

With that knowledge in my back pocket, I am completely aware that I do not, in fact, suck. Though I have a long way to go I know that not everyone can pull off
starting and maintaining a national magazine on a shoestring budget. I have been at this nonstop for two years so I know I’m doing something right. But I need the self
doubt, it’s what makes me break my neck working and why I don’t mind the lack of sleep.

It’s also the source of most of my ideas. Which brings us all the way back around to the idea that complicated my month. (once again I just want to point out how
much I love this section of the magazine, I can’t rant without my old English teachers cringing) I was having one of my “I’m not good enough” moments, they are only
moments because whining makes me batty. I started to wonder if other people had these thoughts of self doubt. More specifically, I wondered how other foster care
alums felt about the side effects they still have from their time in care. That snowballed into my wondering what other alums thought foster care felt like.

People don’t just ask you what foster care feels like. They think they’re much more clever than that. So the go to question I get (CONSTANTLY) is “how was that?”,
same question, different phrasing. I always have the answer ready, partly because I know the question is coming but partly because I have a badass answer.

As you may or may not know by now, I have had ADHD since they figured out a name for bouncing off walls. When I was young malls were in full swing. Tiffany
had concerts there, all of your friends were there with their parents just like you. There was so much to see at the mall. Back then they had a pet store in the mall
where you could look at the dogs and dream of having one. There were toys everywhere, Toys R Us was in the mall, as was KB toys and a new store with goofy
posters and t-shirts called Spencer's was exciting to my always moving eyes.

On occasion, when the sights and sounds of this wonderland would overwhelm me, I would lose sight of my parents. You know the feeling. Maybe you reached up and
grabbed the hand of a stranger or you turned to say something to your Mom or Dad only to find you were talking to air? There is that moment of panic. That split
second where your stomach drops. You think and feel like you are completely alone in the world. The thought of finding the place you belong seems foreign and
fleeting.

Most of us get lucky, our parents realize we aren’t there so they simple turn and scoop us up. There’s going to be a quick lecture about staying with your family but
then it’s over. For me, foster care was always an extended version of that story. Funny how my short answer to what foster care was like is: “It’s temporary.” But that’
s the defense mechanism I use, I minimize everything. “You were in care?”, yeah not a big deal. “Oh you own a magazine?” yeah, little one, you haven’t heard of it.

As it turns out, I am certainly not alone. My fellow alums carry all the same weird side effects I have. Some are a lot worse off than I am. They’re struggling to shake
their time in care. They don’t trust, have trouble loving, can’t hold jobs for fear they’ll be taken away. (Try dealing with that) But they also all have opinions about
what care felt like to them.

When I put that first photo out I had no idea it would go viral. Or that it would justify posters, postcards and a book. But occasionally I will have a good idea and this
idea rallied the alumni community to speak out about what foster care felt like to them. The response was huge, I have will have released a photo testimony of what
foster care feels like every day during March, Social Work month. I think I can speak for alumni everywhere when I say that the photos give insight into what it was
like for us, hopefully it will help folks in foster care do their jobs better but more importantly it will let the next generation of foster youth that we felt the same thing
they feel and we turned out okay. I HOPE.