Foster Parents are Heroic — Until They Aren’t

I returned to my office confronted by a 33-gallon, black, plastic garbage sack stuffed with personal items. Though the secretaries warned me, the sight still numbed my heart.

One hour earlier, a man called to explain why the boy wasn’t welcome back in his home, not even to retrieve his things. My mouth went dry and words stuck in my throat at the explanation of the behaviors from the previous night. My heart craved to explain that children make mistakes and need encouragement. My own daughter had slammed doors, called me names, and once even ran away. But when she returned, I opened the door, held her in my arms, and welcomed her home.

Logic reminded me that teenagers challenge boundaries, and troubled teenagers often push against the expectations harder as they attempt to identify limits and test the faithfulness of others. A caregiver’s responsibility is to provide fair, structured, responses that define appropriate behavior.

My brain desired to explain their role. Synonyms for the word foster produce positive images: nurture, help, stimulate, support. A parent’s job is to love and protect a child. Joined, the meaning of the two words should be apparent. However, unconditional love didn’t live in the vocabulary of the man on the other end of the phone, so I saved my breath.

Instead, I listened and accepted the sentence he assigned to the boy’s crimes. Then tackled another task to take my mind off the conversation and relieve my pain, wondering how the student would feel when given his eviction notice.

Thinking my brain had processed the situation, the shock of seeing the garbage bag tied in a knot sitting in the corner of my office, shattered the wall I had erected to protect my emotions in situations like this. I sat down and cried. They had thrown him out like garbage leaving no note of explanation or encouragement.

The tears signaled I needed a plan so before they dried, a strategy developed. After calling the foster care case manager, I headed home. Once there I gathered a suitcase, some stationary, and a bag of Hershey’s Kisses.

With emergency kit in hand, I reframed the situation. The contents of the garbage sack were extracted and organized. Each item was folded and then placed into the suitcase with a note attached to the chocolates.

The message read as if written by the man from the phone conversation. I refuse to call him caretaker or foster parent as he fulfilled neither role. The note offered assurances that blame rested solely with the adult because his lack of integrity restricted his ability to handle the situation in a mature manner. Ok, I didn’t write that second part. The words expressed thanks for being a part of the family and asked for forgiveness that it was not delivered in person explaining that it hurt too much to look in the boy’s eyes and admit weakness. The goodbye note ended by offering hope that the future would be promising, and the young man would achieve his dreams.

Yes, when I signed the man’s name, I lied.

Careful to not gush with emotions because that would reveal the forgery, the words remained neutral. The content in the body of the letter stated the truth to reinforce the youth’s self-worth.

At the end of the day sitting in the conference room after explaining the situation, the boy read the letter. His body showed emotion as he slumped in the chair; his words provided camouflage. “Yeah, I knew he was a loser. Where do I go now?” He unwrapped a candy kiss and threw it in his mouth.

As he walked out of our school, I realized the system had not failed this boy, a human had.

Parenting challenges every person who accepts responsibility. Foster parenting complicates the dynamics of the situation even more. However, many dedicated adults find fostering a child rewarding. Many children live with foster parents who understand the responsibility and honor of serving. Each of them deserves praise for their sacrifice.

I never met the man on the other end of the phone, but his voice haunts my darkest moments. He had volunteered to be a beacon of light during a stormy part of a child's life. Instead, his behavior created a darkness that might steer a young soul in the wrong direction.

The entire incident occurred in an afternoon but remains with me years later. It is an event that reminds me why I work in public education, why advocating for children requires the art of being human, and why paying attention to one individual impacts the world.