Names have been changed.
My first childhood memory is being in a strange room with other kids crying.
I entered the foster care system when I was 2 years old, and the memories I have of growing up in care are mostly fragmented, glued-together pieces. I just remember a house with people that I didn’t know, and siblings that were not there.
My seven siblings and I were split up into three different homes. Some of the toughest parts about foster care were being separated from my older brothers, who were like fathers to me, and not getting to be the older sister that I wanted to be.
When I turned 12, my foster mom adopted me. Looking back, this was really hard because I could never understand why my biological parents never came to get me.
Even though I got adopted, I never felt like I had a real family or community. It wasn’t until recently that I found belonging through being an advocate.
“Do you want to get adopted?”
I remember sitting at a long brown table across from three White men, my birth sister Beth, and my soon-to-be family: Tanya and her two kids. Tanya was ready to adopt me, and so one of the White men across the table popped the question, “Do you want to get adopted?”
I froze, not knowing what to say. I was 12—I didn’t know what I wanted to do. After letting my mind rest on the question for some time, I looked across the room and felt all eyes on me. My knuckles pummeled my lap as I felt anger take over my body.
I was mad at my birth parents. The only thing they had to do was come to court to sign a paper to take custody of my siblings and me, but they wouldn’t even do that.
I said, “Yes,” and looked down, thinking about my answer. Everyone cheered, but I stayed quiet and my mind drifted.
I don’t remember much about my early relationship with my foster mom. But as I got older, it became full of mistrust and frustration. I was always the kind of child that never liked being told what to do, so we butted heads a lot. Even though our relationship was strained, I’m still grateful that she chose to adopt me.
Later, Tanya adopted Beth, but she left our home at 18 because she felt like she couldn’t deal with being controlled, and I don’t blame her.
Bullied and Alone
Growing up wasn’t easy; I didn’t have a calm childhood. There were always people from the Administration for Children’s Services (ACS) and Catholic Guardian (my foster care agency) showing up at the house unannounced. They decided whether or not I got to see my other siblings. I was also put on many different medications that I didn’t even need. It felt like so many decisions were chained up in one lock and I didn’t have the key.
In school, I was bullied a lot for being a foster kid. I’ve even been choked by other kids. It was bad.
After being picked on for being in the system, I decided that opening up to people about my background would only bite me where the sun doesn’t shine. I didn’t think anyone would relate to the feeling of my dad not coming to my birthday, or to my graduation, or that my birth mom is sick and doesn’t understand a lot of things.
I didn’t have a bond with my foster mom or siblings and, by high school, Beth had already left the house, so I didn’t have anyone to talk to.
Being Kicked Out of My Home
Until sophomore year, I always came directly home after school, but after that year I didn’t want a curfew anymore and I didn’t want to be told what to do. I fought a lot with my foster mom. When I turned 18, she kicked me out.
She confiscated my house keys and got rid of my belongings. I had no choice but to find shelter by couch surfing for two weeks.
Then, over the next eight months I stayed with my brother Jay’s wife’s best friend, without any support from Tanya.
Family Reunion
Rose and her husband not only became my family, they introduced me to the first “community” that I have ever known. It’s called Fair Futures.
However, I got lucky. My older brothers Jay and Migz, who I was separated from at 2, stepped in to help support me. They reconnected me to their adoptive mom and dad, who I’d met when I was 8. Back then, their mom, Rose, was my CASA, or foster care advocate. My foster mom had cut off communication with her after they’d gotten into a disagreement.
I had reunited with them once, to celebrate my 15th birthday. They took me out to a restaurant, and I remembered so many happy memories that I had blocked out when our communication was cut: memories of us at the pool and picnicking together started to gather up in my mind, bringing me so much joy. They are the most beautiful and generous couple I’ve ever met.
After I was kicked out at 18, they helped me out, and I stayed with them for a few nights.
Finding My Community at Fair Futures
Rose and her husband not only became my family, they introduced me to the first “community” that I have ever known. It’s called Fair Futures, a coalition of over 100 child welfare agencies and nonprofits; Rose works with the co-founder. They help many foster youth who struggle through the system, connecting them to coaches, tutors, therapy programs, internships, jobs, college, and housing.
I remember walking in and looking at everyone in their conference room. It felt so welcoming and warm. Pretty soon after being introduced to Fair Futures, I told them that I wanted to be a part of it, and they invited me to join their Youth Advisory Board (YAB).
The YAB is a group of young adults who experienced the system like I did and are advocating for changes to ensure foster youth have the support we deserve. They understand a lot of what I went through, from being overmedicated to not vibing with my adoptive foster mom, to being kicked out without housing options. Instead of bullying me, they get it. They are supportive of me and of each other.
One of the best memories that I have of being a part of this community is the second time I came to a general meeting of youth members and Fair Futures staff. We were having a warm up discussion and the director said something along the lines of, “We are a family.” That showed me that these people don’t care about what past you have or what you’ve done.
I immediately got a coach from Catholic Guardian who I connected with. Even though I swore I would never interact with my foster care agency again, he felt like a friend and understood what I was going through. Finally, I had someone who understands me and says, “It will be OK Em, I got you.”
Then I got a tutor from At the Table, an organization that connects foster care youth to education resources, and it was the same thing: someone who finally understands what I went through and who can support me as I enter college.
I’d never had adults support me with things like organization, homework, and career planning. All the connections through Fair Futures allowed me to build a network for myself, including multiple internships with ACS.
Becoming an Advocate
I joined the Fair Futures YAB because thousands of kids in the city don’t get the opportunities they deserve, and I wanted to join a movement to change that. Being with my Fair Futures community allowed me to voice my experiences in a way that is not only healing to myself but that actually can make change possible in the system.
Right now we are advocating for some issues that I am very passionate about because they impacted my own life. One is for youth in care to have better-quality housing in good neighborhoods. Another is to help all youth understand their options when it comes to adoption and permanency.
Because I got adopted at 12 and kicked out at 18, I was not eligible for College Choice funding. I was also no longer eligible for the majority of the housing options you get when you age out of foster care at 21.
Looking back on my experience, I honestly think I would be better off now if I had decided not to get adopted and just aged out like my brothers did. My brothers both got their own apartments and lots of college funding. They also ended up getting adopted after they aged out anyway, so they got the best of both worlds. Why can’t that be an option for more foster youth?
There is only one apartment building in the entire city, located in Harlem, that accepts kids in my situation, and thankfully I am now housed there. The Empire State Supportive Housing Initiative provides the residents, ages 18 to 26, with case workers to help with jobs and school. The best part is that you don’t have to pay rent if you are enrolled in college full time. Fair Futures connected me to this program and I am so grateful. I could have easily been homeless if I didn’t learn about this organization.
My Community Is Family Togetherness
Every day, my fellow YAB members and I send hundreds of text messages into our group chat, and I know I can always turn to them. Besides just “fitting in” and not being judged by my new community, we also share a higher purpose to advocate for more change in the system.
Young people deserve to have a voice. Young people deserve to know what opportunities and support systems they have access to in foster care. I want there to be a change in how much these kids get cared for.
I’ve been a part of the Fair Futures community for only a short time, but it has changed my perspective on community. I get to eat good food and experience art and music, things I was never exposed to before. There are so many beautiful feelings that sometimes it feels surreal.
Feeling like I belong has taught me to look at the bigger picture and to see my background in a different light. I’ve learned family isn’t just blood, it’s also the people we care about. Just like I’m still close with Rose and my brothers, who are a big part of my family support system.
With Fair Futures, it’s OK to be vulnerable. It’s OK to ask for help. I am not judged; they accept me for me. We are all in it together, no matter what, like a real family.
- Foster Care