How would you define “family?” People who are related by blood or marriage is the typical first definition. But we all know that being biologically related may never lead to being in a true family relationship. How many distant relatives can you imagine currently having whom you have never met? How many of us have discovered “new” relatives after sending a genetic sample to an online DNA registry? There is an adage that states, “You can’t choose your family.” Today, I hope to challenge that notion. This is part one of a 2-part reflection on how we can more effectively give children in foster care a voice in the choice about what is in the child’s best interest.
What if the child truly had a voice in choosing their forever family? We hear adoptive parents tell their children, “I chose you--you are special.” What if the conversation were flipped, and we heard more children saying, “I chose you to be my family, you chose me as your child, and this is our family!” What if this were how more children felt when they completed their arduous journey through the child welfare system?
A child enters foster care because of the actions and/or failures of adults. Some adults are biological relatives, and some of the adults were intervenors in the child’s life, brought in to help a struggling family and/or protect the safety and welfare of the child. Children who continue to linger in foster care have often been failed by a multitude of people charged with protecting their safety and ensuring their wellbeing: relatives, kin, caseworkers, lawyers, judges, guardians, foster parents, therapists, doctors, teachers … many of these people have been paid by the state and given the assignment of ensuring the best interests of the child are met. Each person who touches that child’s life bears some responsibility for the child’s suffering, as well as the ultimate outcome of the child’s life.
What about older children, who have literally “been through it?” Abuse, neglect, foster care, residential treatment, group homes, court systems, medical systems, educational systems, therapeutic systems …. how do we empower these children to find and use their voices? And are we listening to them?
Every “how to” book about children stresses the importance of connecting with the child and helping the child feel safe and connected. Yet, from the child-eye-level, our “systems” often work to discourage connections, and being safe is very different from feeling safe. Many children experience a conveyor belt of caseworkers; each new caseworker makes a brief pause in the child’s life, never to be seen again. Frequently, attorneys give their child clients a cursory call before a hearing, never learning anything of significance about the child. Too many judges are uncomfortable talking to the children or believe, “That’s someone else’s responsibility.” Teachers who do not understand the child’s history and current reality of trauma may react to the child’s behaviors with punitive “discipline.”
Whether you are the child’s attorney, CASA volunteer, teacher, therapist, or judge, the child needs to hear that you care about them. Here is my short list of ways we can all be better advocates for each child:
There are no easy answers. The systems were put in place with noble intentions: to offer safety to children and consistency for professionals working with children. But sometimes, the system seems to be managing the people instead of the people working effectively within a beneficial system. We must continue to ask whether a particular system is working for a particular client. The system will continue on, certain to survive, even if your child client breaks free of it. Although many children may survive the system, consider whether there is more we can be doing to ensure that children in our care do more than survive. To survive is not enough; help them to thrive!