Parenting Strangers, Grand Final - State Owned

They live in my house, but they're not my kids.  They are owned by the State of Texas.

My wife and I are 'Professional Parents.'  The state hires us to raise their kids.

We wanted a second or third grader.  You know...young, cute, malleable, easy, sweet.  We wanted a child without parents, a true orphan.  Instead they gave us a really angry thirteen year old on heavy medication with a psycho-mother.

And we fell in love.

When a child first comes into your house, you have a couple of days to make sure its a fit.  We knew almost immediately when this young lady entered our house that it was a fit.  It was like we took one sniff and recognized that this was one of our own children who had been lost to us at birth.  Maybe it was just because she was our first.  We've never had this experience with any of the other young ladies that have come into our home.


We always come to love the kids in our home.  We knew we would.  It's just how we're built.

She's been with us for three years and will probably be with us until she graduates high school.  Other young ladies have come and gone.  Some for short periods, some for long.  Some successful - in college.  Some failures - handcuffs.

Right now, we have a young lady preparing to graduate high school and go on to college as well as our sixteen year old.

When you take a young person into your house as foster parents, they come with a lot of baggage.  And not just the suit case and boxes and bags of stuff.  Our lives are filled with judges and lawyers and case managers and case workers and therapists and mothers and siblings.  We are inspected twice a month by the state to see that their children are all right.  We get inspected by our case manager quarterly to make sure we are conforming to the law.  We see two judges at least twice a year.  They each visit their mothers semi-regularly.  They both see a therapist at least twice a month.  It can be a regular three ring circus.

And then there's the medications.  Many places that take these kids use medication to control their behavior.  Some need it.  Many don't.  And there's no one to help you figure it out.

It is the best thing we have ever done.

Parenting Strangers, part 1 - The Early Years

I began working with children shortly after my 10-month old son died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome in 1982.  I was attending the University of Texas after 4 years in the Air Force.  I came home one afternoon and got a phone call that my son was in the hospital.  By the time I got there, he was pronounced dead.

A few months later, a friend at the Episcopalian/Anglican church we were attending asked if I wanted to teach a Sunday School Class of second graders.  I don't know why I said yes.  I had volunteered in Headstart during college and the experience was wonderful, and I loved being a Sunday School teacher.

Normally, I am a shy and reclusive person, but in front of a group of children, I am transformed into an outgoing, silly person.  I loved that me.

After several years of teaching Sunday School, a voice inside me (I think it was God) began to nudge me toward working with teenagers.  I was frightened, but I gave it a try as a volunteer with the youth group at my church.  I love the earnestness of teenagers.  I love the struggle they have to become individuals, to discover their own unique identity.  I love their passion.

And I discovered an honesty in myself that was lacking.  To reach teenagers, I had to dig deep into myself.  Some of what I found, I didn't like and it took me years to dredge that filth up into the light and let go of it.

I also discovered a wacky sense of humor to which teenagers responded.  A line from W.C. Fields always runs through my head.  "You take life too seriously.  I was only trying to guess your weight."  Because teenagers are earnest in the extreme.  So many teens think that every little thing in life has great depth and meaning.  Life does have depth and meaning, but if I don't laugh, that only leaves crying and I don't cope well when I'm crying.

Faster than a Speeding Bullet

"True humility means most strenuous and constant endeavour entirely directed towards the service of humanity." - Letter to Narandas Gandhi (G.), MMU/I, October 7, 1930

I don't know how to respond to the images on TV of the earthquake and tsunami in Japan.  I can give money and I may, and every little bit helps, but I want to be on the ground helping rebuild and that is not possible.

My duties are here with my family and my foster daughters and the struggles in my community to keep the government assisting minorities and the poor.

But these duties seem so mundane.

I dream of taking food and water to the people who's lives have been devastated by natural disaster.  I fantasize about being on the front lines of the nonviolent protests in the Middle East.  I want to help the children in Africa or India who have no food or clean water or shelter.

But this is not what God has called me to do.  God has given me a wife who writes grants for non-profit organizations to help the poor and minorities.  God has given me teenage girls who's parents have abandoned them.  God has given me a state government, Texas, USA, that is at the bottom in the way it takes care of its children.

And when I remember that I am not a superhero in tights and a cape, what God has called me to do seems very important.

I pray for the people of Japan.

Gratitude List

"It is our actions which count.  Thoughts, however good in themselves, are like false pearls unless they are translated into action."  A Letter (G.), Mahadevbhaini Diary, Vol. II, p. 15

I am basically a lazy person.  I love television and computer games.  As a writer, I can delude myself into thinking I am 'doing something' when actually all that I am accomplishing is wasting time.

I'm not even sure that little projects like this blog count as 'doing something,' even though I pat myself on the back every time I post and tick off as something accomplished on my to-do list.

When I am 'doing something,' I often feeling as though I am flailing about.  "When in danger or in doubt, run in circles, scream, and shout."

But then I stop and count my blessing, make a gratitude list:

1. My family and I are healthy.
2. There is food in the refrigerator.
3. There is a roof over our head.
4. There is more than enough money.
5. I have people who love me.
6. I have friends who like me.
7. I have more than enough work to keep me busy even if I don't always know exactly what my priorities are.
8. I live in country where I am not persecuted for what I believe or what I say or how I dress or much of anything that isn't destructive or harmful.
9. I have happy memories and little mementos that remind me of many of  those memories.
10. I have leisure time to study or meditate or just relax.

And the list goes on and on and on.

And I am inspired to get back to work.