The Trash Bag Kid Confessionals:

Some of you might already know who I am from news articles, but for those of you who remain clueless: Hi! I'm Rachel Schuyler a 31 year old houseless female struggling to reenter the Austin, Texas community after serving my sentences for felony charges allegedly committed over 4 and 6 years ago. I am also battling a case with Texas Department of Family Protective Services about my 15 month old daughter. When I was arrested while removing my r.v. from an illegally handled "eviction/lease termination" situation at park on N. Lamar blvd I had given verbal consent to care for my daughter with the arresting officers present to my brother and his wife whom were helping me move the trailer. Only after the manager called my brother and threatened him with a load of b.s. did my brother come out from San Antonio to move the r.v.

I'm hoping that someone will pick up on what's really going on and be a human one of these times that someone speaks up. Someone with some sort of foot in the door when it comes to policy changing and researching/reporting. Justice is not served when a living being's God given right to live and be loved by the family and home he has been born into, in such a free country as God's United States of America. Land of the Free... Home of the broken spirited future generations and lost souls. Children in such a spoiled place that we refilter our filtered water before we consume it, go hungry, lonely, frightened, beaten, and ignored or silenced everyday and no one even has the slightest of a clue as to what's really happening beyond that first black trash bag journey in a strangers back seat to a cubicle where we are questioned and lied to and made promises.... Broken promises from a case worker who will be transferred in 2 weeks time. I know because I am one of those children that was ripped away from all that I knew and loved and shuffled around until I aged out into a community of people who looked down on me because I was now a "troubled youth". This series will probably be long and drawn out but as long as they let me I will relive much of the trauma in writing for anyone who cares about our future generations.

BEFORE THE REMOVAL: My early childhood was great from what I can remember. (I had an infection in my brain, at the time meningitis was yet to be named, when I was 11 yrs old that caused pretty significant long term memory damage). Anyway, I remember Mommy being "around" sometimes, but present publicly for sure. I played outside a lot, more so than inside. We lived in Lebanon, Tennessee. My closest neighbors were Carrie Robinson next door approximately 1 - 2 miles away, and Amanda Hamilton who lived around the corner at the end of my street. Carrie and I were best friends but Amanda was snooty towards us. We lived in a double wide that had 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. Momma was a waitress at the truck stop my Daddy Ron (aka Pops) worked full time since he retired from the U.S. army. I had two step siblings, both older than me, through Daddy Ron. I only found out when he passed away that he wasn't my real father. He died when I was 9 yrs old at the age of 64 years old I think.

When he found out he was terminal with lung cancer he and my mom got married in hopes that he would be around long enough to leave me the property and trailer, but that was not the case. My aunt Toni was momma's best friend and she worked at an apartment complex but couldn't help when we lost the trailer to my step mother, Daddy's ex wife Lois. So we had to move to Texas where my Great grandmother Winnie lived because my adopted Grandmother needed help caring for her since she fell in the shower and broke her hip. The death of my Daddy Ron was a big deal for me and I never really had time to grieve over the entire loss we sustained there. Any way the move to Texas is when everything went to hell.

Look I'm not going to lie and say that my mother was not a "neglectful parent". I however can admit that up until my Daddy died I had not noticed how much she had been not present... that I can remember. She was always there when it was public for sure but we also lived in the country. I literally walked through the 3 - 5 mile corn and wheat field to get to and from my elementary school. Uncle Pete's truck stop was another 2 miles from the school across the train tracks. Uncle Mark's junkyard wasn't that much further from there and I really did everything outside. But then again this was also when the t.v. had a nob to change the channel and a wire coat hanger with foil for reception. Yes I had the phone on the kitchen wall with the 6 ft. winding cord also. My mom was just very loving when it was necessary I guess. She was adopted at birth and the files completely sealed. Her also adopted brother was the apple of my grandmother's eye and a complete douche (Sorry Uncle Greg, you're still the smartest I think out of us all of us education wise). He didn't know for a few years longer than my mom also. That's beside the point though.

I was a daddy's girl, so when Pop's died I started to notice that Mom wasn't really around all too much. I guess it didn't help that we moved into an environment completely opposite of the one I was raised in. That is we went from rural Lebanon, Tennessee to overcrowded urban metropolitan San Antonio, Texas. The South East side at that! I quickly realized that my mom was addicted to both pharmaceutical and illegal drugs. That explained the distance she kept often right. So we kind of got close because we had too. She also started staying gone longer obviously returning during the comedown of her habit. She was depressed and defeated and her health wasn't great anymore. Habits got worse, inhibitions became scarce, she moved her best friend in and her son was my boyfriend.

You can guess what a 16 almost 17 yr old boy thug from the southwest side of San Antonio is doing alone with his 13 yr old mid development girl friend are doing before long... (I'm the 13 yr old). By this time I have already smoked pot a lot but not habitually, smoke cigarettes regularly, and get drunk occasionally. No I wasn't doing drugs or alcohol during my pregnancy, my body actually automatically rejected it all on its own. But nonetheless one thing led to another and we ran out of condoms so I got pregnant at 13 years old. I was one of 4 white girls at Martin Luther King middle school at the time and there was a girl 2 yrs older than me that was pregnant too. The Texas Department of Family Protective Services investigator came to the school to speak with me and the counselor about my absences because the school sent me home every time I had morning sickness. I will never forget the badge, the Texas Star behind it and the name was... irrelevant.

It wasn't until after I had gone from 5'5" tall and 89 lbs to 5'6 and 168 lbs in approximately 5 months give or take, delivered normally with only minimal complications (my body was under developed so the vacuum was needed and no epidural) an 8 lb 10 oz and 21 inch long healthy boy that they returned to "talk to us again". Only talking wasn't barely what happened at all. They had an infant car seat and a diaper bag in hand when they arrived about 45 minutes before baby and I were to be released. She told my mother not to worry about pulling the van around to the exit because that would not be necessary and asked me if there was anything that I could not live without from home that she could bring to the dfps office to have a supervised visit with us in 3 days. She explained that I was going to a group home for a few days until a spot at a shelter called Seton Home was available for me IF I wanted to keep my baby. It's going to be a sort of orientation or trial run for thirty days she assured me and started putting my personal effects into a big black trash bag...

to be continued....