As a single person who worked in mental health I was anxious to work, help and try to instill values with foster children, some almost adults in the legal sense and very hard to persuade change in. But they were all worth it, each and every one.
I preferred boys because I had a lot of brothers and I'm kind of a tom boy myself so I thought I had it all figured out. During training we were told just because you're parents, that means nothing to these kids. Yes, I found out that was true with one exception. Every boy who walked through my homes wanted to know about my children and what we did,what happened if they got into trouble, how did I punish them, did they have a curfew, and a lot about vacations.
That made sense as they were told and foster parents are told to treat foster children as your own. So one young boy about thirteen, very stubborn, African American had a dream to join the ARMY along with a younger brother also in foster care. I got to meet him too and take him out a couple of times. My guy at thirteen was ready to stand up for what he believed in, no matter how right or wrong he was. He wanted what was his no matter again, how right or wrong he was using things. But he had goals, and one was to be as independent as possible and no one would tell him what to do or be.
He lived with me twice which was kool. We both learned, but my neighborhood didn't. I lived in at that time an almost all white area and the neighbor across the street treated this kid as if he had a disease being black. It was mainly the man across the street and then a man a few doors up from me.
One night my guy and a neighbor boy who lived down the street came to my house and it was dark, about nine o'clock and they stood at the top of the hill throwing rocks. Their aim was off, or maybe not. I was told they were trying to throw over that guys house. IT didn't take long as I later learned that neighbor was sitting outside a long time, which meant he could have come to me right away. Instead he waited until a rock hit his truck, then came to me yelling about cost and me not watching my foster son.
What many don't know is kids who are in foster care earn the right according to age, just like any child, to be out a little later as they age and hopefully mature. That man across the street didn't care, wouldn't listen, just wanted to bully me and get money out of a rock hitting his truck. HE wasn't about to go up the street to the white boys house and tell his parents off until I said, what about him and I hated pointing to the other boy. After saying that a few times the man said okay, okay I'm going. Yeah, he went, acted like a gentle man, spoke softly and reached his hand out to talk to the other boys' father. The father caved in and let the man use his auto insurance. I wouldn't.
I wanted the boy to learned lesson by giving up his weekly allowance and walk across the street and pay until done. The man refused, said he wanted HIS money now. He made many threats about the agency, called the police, rightly so, said he'd call a senator, and on he went. He did call my agency who paid him, but was nasty to the manager who was a female About a month later he called my agency again, said he found a ding in his garage door, wanted more money, wanted to talk to a man. Not this time. I let them know he never mentioned it before and could call the police then they'd know what kind of a "man" he was.
That man just really didn't want a kid who was black living across the street. He suggested he had to watch his daughter, that he had a dog, installed a fake camera, but as horrible as all of that was, it became worse. He started watching this kid often. The boy started back. The man called the police for staring! Finally one day the man called the police again saying the boy was walking on or near his property, watching the man. WHAT a LIAR! I happened to come from my kitchen, looked out the window and saw the man drive up on his property. He saw my kiddo walking down the block in the street, and followed him along his property line until the boy went to his friends house. The man came back in and called the police.
Soon the police arrived and my foster son was sitting at the table talked to me about stuff. Allowing the cop in, hearing the same old story, I took a deep breath and told the cop, Okay I'm finished with this, the lies, his following D all the time etc, Please let him know if he calls teh police one more time
I preferred boys because I had a lot of brothers and I'm kind of a tom boy myself so I thought I had it all figured out. During training we were told just because you're parents, that means nothing to these kids. Yes, I found out that was true with one exception. Every boy who walked through my homes wanted to know about my children and what we did,what happened if they got into trouble, how did I punish them, did they have a curfew, and a lot about vacations.
That made sense as they were told and foster parents are told to treat foster children as your own. So one young boy about thirteen, very stubborn, African American had a dream to join the ARMY along with a younger brother also in foster care. I got to meet him too and take him out a couple of times. My guy at thirteen was ready to stand up for what he believed in, no matter how right or wrong he was. He wanted what was his no matter again, how right or wrong he was using things. But he had goals, and one was to be as independent as possible and no one would tell him what to do or be.
He lived with me twice which was kool. We both learned, but my neighborhood didn't. I lived in at that time an almost all white area and the neighbor across the street treated this kid as if he had a disease being black. It was mainly the man across the street and then a man a few doors up from me.
One night my guy and a neighbor boy who lived down the street came to my house and it was dark, about nine o'clock and they stood at the top of the hill throwing rocks. Their aim was off, or maybe not. I was told they were trying to throw over that guys house. IT didn't take long as I later learned that neighbor was sitting outside a long time, which meant he could have come to me right away. Instead he waited until a rock hit his truck, then came to me yelling about cost and me not watching my foster son.
What many don't know is kids who are in foster care earn the right according to age, just like any child, to be out a little later as they age and hopefully mature. That man across the street didn't care, wouldn't listen, just wanted to bully me and get money out of a rock hitting his truck. HE wasn't about to go up the street to the white boys house and tell his parents off until I said, what about him and I hated pointing to the other boy. After saying that a few times the man said okay, okay I'm going. Yeah, he went, acted like a gentle man, spoke softly and reached his hand out to talk to the other boys' father. The father caved in and let the man use his auto insurance. I wouldn't.
I wanted the boy to learned lesson by giving up his weekly allowance and walk across the street and pay until done. The man refused, said he wanted HIS money now. He made many threats about the agency, called the police, rightly so, said he'd call a senator, and on he went. He did call my agency who paid him, but was nasty to the manager who was a female About a month later he called my agency again, said he found a ding in his garage door, wanted more money, wanted to talk to a man. Not this time. I let them know he never mentioned it before and could call the police then they'd know what kind of a "man" he was.
That man just really didn't want a kid who was black living across the street. He suggested he had to watch his daughter, that he had a dog, installed a fake camera, but as horrible as all of that was, it became worse. He started watching this kid often. The boy started back. The man called the police for staring! Finally one day the man called the police again saying the boy was walking on or near his property, watching the man. WHAT a LIAR! I happened to come from my kitchen, looked out the window and saw the man drive up on his property. He saw my kiddo walking down the block in the street, and followed him along his property line until the boy went to his friends house. The man came back in and called the police.
Soon the police arrived and my foster son was sitting at the table talked to me about stuff. Allowing the cop in, hearing the same old story, I took a deep breath and told the cop, Okay I'm finished with this, the lies, his following D all the time etc, Please let him know if he calls teh police one more time
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