A normal day at daycare turned into a lifelong trigger to daycares. Normally daycare would be a quick stop for these two siblings. They were dropped off and picked up by the daycare van to and from school everyday with no problems. Most days mom would pick up her two children everyday pretty early (they were usually the first to leave daycare). This particular day their mom seemed to take longer than normal and although this was unusual for this family, daycare staff and the siblings figured it may just have been a true mistake. It began to get darker and staff irritable. Multiple numbers were called that night and yet?, “Please leave a message after the beep”. Each non response became more worrisome. As a 6 year old child, the constant whispers between staff, unanswered phone calls, and requests for them to “eat more snacks'' seemed quite odd. Had her mother gotten in a car wreck? Was her ‘step-dad’ and her injured? Did they take a quick nap too late? Lord knows they sleep heavy and they may have just slept through their alarm.
THE SHIFT
As she sat and ate her cheesy Cheeto puffs and awaited an answer to her 100th “Have you talked to mommie?”, a tall white police officer approached the building. As the whispering and gasps continue, Mr. Officer says “come take a ride with me kiddos.” As a now young adult and black woman, that then 6-year old had no idea of the emotional, physical, and mental transition she was in for, just by that one statement to ‘take a ride’. See, police encounters are supposed to be safe, settling, and clear. However, not for this first-grader, she had an early start to become more knowledgeable of the generational disconnect between officers, the justice system, and black people. She had no idea where life was headed. “Where’s mommie?”, licking the cheeto residue off of her fingers. “She is away right now and I have to take you somewhere so you are safe for the night”. Yeah right. One night turned into days, days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. There was an instant shift that happened that night that has lasted for more than 7 years since.
As time went on, a then unaware mental battle attached itself to this 6-year old girl. This attachment along with its human had to make an uncomfortable transition living with strangers, watching its human’s brother become unstable, and deal with everything that came with this living transition all while still confused about this very adult situation. This caused the mental battle to grow- which caused a deterrent onto its human body, mind, and soul. A shelter had then become a placement for these two siblings. School was completed here, chores, showers, play-time, and all other daily activities. Were they the prisoners? Had they done something wrong to end up in such a place? Imagine yourself at age 6 and 8, stripped away from your normal life and placed in a shelter with other children that smoke cigarettes, self-harm, fight others, steal, run away, and more. Imagine being in a place where the staff yelled at one if rules and chores weren’t followed, as if YOU asked to be punished in such a place. As if the transition weren’t hard enough, no staff worked hard to help you feel acclimated, loved, nor important. At age 6, imagine. Imagine the sudden change in location of the physical and the mental. This was the start of a new chapter. Was this what mommie meant when she said “You’re six now, it’s time to be a big girl.” Maybe this was normal. How was the life of a six year old supposed to be?
THE BRAKE
“Hi, we’ll be your new foster parents. Just one question, are you guys all–alright… that we’re— white?” Hysterical. The question should have been reversed. The first foster parents encountered were far from parents. Within the first two weeks, the boy was removed from the house while the girl was asleep, for reasons unknown. Now separated, this young girl was hurt and lost without her eldest sibling. With this new void added to the human's mental battle, the mental battle caused a break within this child's mind. Everything seemed slow. Everything seemed unreal.
Oftentimes the ‘mental’ speaks to its human when in malls shopping, “Hey girl, do you remember when Gene made you wear jeans and a long sleeve during a heat advisory in Oklahoma? Then you threw up in the mall while THEY were shopping because you were so hot and dehydrated. Then they got upset at you for embarrassing their privileged family and took you back to the car to sit back in the heat while they fussed at you, while you were still gagging?” “STOP, STOP NOW!”, while rushing out of the mall now as a 24 year old woman. No wonder you hate shopping. It’s a trigger. From being hit with a kayak paddle and suffering your one and only nose bleed, the favoritism towards their foster grandkids (yes, they were actually biologically theirs), wearing old winter clothes during an outside family wedding when all kids got new suits and dresses, the no “Happy Birthday” comments/gifts, or maybe the physical sexual harassment. Being unsure which situation caused the break in the growth of this young six year old's mind, it’s believed that the mental break was at “come take a ride with me kiddos.”
THE REVERSE
Things got too out of hand at Gene and Tammy’s. Commonly at daycare before the bus arrived, the daycare provider would have the children watch the news, then they could watch Spongebob. Something was very off about the past few weeks. So off that the children hadn’t watched the news before SpongeBob. One day the daycare provider thought to get back to the norm. Whatever she had been hiding, couldn’t possibly be on television anymore right? Ironically, this was false. This young girl had seen so much at this age but never would have thought to see her mother and ‘step dad’ on national television for being arrested on crimes they allegedly committed while ‘raising’ children. As if the instant terror and judgment wasn’t enough, the daycare providers husband allowed the kids to tease the young girl. “If you don’t respond to them and don't tell anyone what they’re doing, I’ll give you some candy.” ARE YOU BRIBING A CHILD TO NOT REACT TO RACIST KIDS TEASING HER ABOUT HER MOTHER BEING ON BIG SCREEN FOR GOING TO PRISON?!???” A nightmare was what she was living. So much of the mental and sexual abuse and she couldn’t take it anymore. She decided to finally speak up; however, speaking up didn’t include telling the case manager about the sexual abuse- which now causes guilt. Did I allow another young girl or boy to go through the same from not speaking up? But now, “WHAT THE HELL!?” Was this Uno? Why would there be a reverse card in this pile? Three more different homes but she should be happy right? There was no sexual abuse anymore, just mental. Girl, you can deal with the mental abuse, this is your norm now. I mean you are already attached to a mental battle, you may as well right? Now age seven– or eight, you lost count during the ‘brake’, you have officially experienced mental abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse, with a hint of racism, bullying, and poverty. Piece of cake!
THE ACCELERATOR
Life drags but sometimes it speeds up when it’s controlled by others. The push to get out of one’s house, the visitations seemed to start slow but end quicker, evaluations didn’t drag anymore, this was a routine that you seemed to get used to. Everything seemed to flow. You get the chance to reunite with that once 8 year old with familiar faces. Now back in a hometown your mother left, confused and unknowingly a black sheep. You’re excited to live with family and to go to school and not be labeled as ‘blackie the snowman’ when wearing sweaters. So you thought. There’s a saying “It be ya own people”. Sigh, shaking my head. It does, doesn’t it? The bullying, the poverty, the mental battle, it didn’t stop. It accelerated. You were the “Oreo, who thinks she’s all that.” When actually, although now much older, you were still that lost six year old who just wanted normalcy. You let your mental battle become you instead of overcoming the mental battle. You needed help but couldn’t say anything because the lights and water being off was much more important than you offing yourself right? Almost laughable. Making decisions at this age could have never been easier.
THE EXHAUST
AT LAST! You are ‘Grown-ish’, you can make your own decisions, you are free. You need a change and you need a sense of sanity. Unfortunately, you forget one thing. The attachment. “According to 2018 data, Black children were 13.71% of the population, yet 22.75% of children in foster care were Black (NCSL.org).” This same statistic ties into one main reason, poverty. Most black children enter into the foster care system because of poverty forcing the way their life may take a turn. Children are indirectly forced into the system by direct family relationships. This can change the way a person sees law enforcement, laws, and anything pertaining to higher authority. Due to justice system encounters at a young age, 90% of black foster children who have encountered five or more foster homes will end up in the juvenile system, beginning their justice system record. This means that foster youth are less likely to have a successful life compared to general population youth. Personally, being a foster youth – it's believed that there’s more of a push to beat the odds. With your back against the wall and considering the odds, what would you think to do or be? How do you reach out for help when you’ve been denied the right to a fair life due to the decisions others made? Exhausted. Tired, lonely, and confused. As a foster youth, having felt so defeated, but yet coming out “on top” seems like the perfect success story to others. But when you look within this foster youths not so successful story, it’s coping by self sabotage/hate, filling the day with unwanted tasks to become too busy to even think about the emotions inside, it’s allowing abusive partners to stay, self-harming, crying yourself to sleep, it’s allowing family to mistreat you, unintentional alcoholism, longing for love or acceptance, and true emptiness. Digging yourself out of a hole can never be easy. Determining you are much more than that dark hole is the hardest. How can one judge which path a foster youth decides when stripped away from the fair chance to decide on their own? This is an unintentional, intentional life. Someone decided for her at the age of 6 when the placement began, when they hired the staff to ‘help’ her, when they didn’t provide proper services before aging-out of the system, and when no follow-ups occurred. She decided she wanted it rewritten her way, so that’s what she’ll do.
An unforgettable moment you asked? The foster care system isn’t just AN unforgettable moment, it is the ULTIMATE moment that transitioned life into multiple unforgettable moments. Good and bad, that ultimate is an unforgettable untold story. So what was so different about this 6 year old that shuffled to five different foster care placements? She was the three percent of foster youth who obtained not only one college degree, but three. She was one who got mental help. She was the one who allowed herself enough grace to begin anew.
She was— me.