My last post “Things that Go Bump in the Night” shook me to my core. It unearthed a suppressed memory that generated a conversations with my little sister, best friend and husband. I have always suspected that I had suppressed memories of sexual abuse, but accepted my body’s defense mechanisms. These unearthed memories did howeverContinue reading “Repressed Memories”
The foster care system in this country is a necessary evil. Me and my siblings are blessed, we eventually were reunited and over time our mother regained custody and jumped through the hoops needed get us out of the system. Not all children are as fortunate. There are children who stay in the system untilContinue reading “Keeva”
One night before bed, Ms. Brown came into the girls room with a large black trash bag. We looked around to see who was leaving. You have to understand, being a foster kid at Ms. Brown’s isn’t perfect, but it’s almost as close you can find in Chicago. The hope is to stay here until it’s time to go home.
Being a foster kid at Ms. Brown’s was almost like living at my grandparents’ home with a bunch of cousins, except ghetto. We had rules, she was strict, but we were allowed to be kids and have fun. For the rest of the summer, I almost forgot I was in foster care. I shared aContinue reading “Pickled Pig Feet”
After two weeks with Ms. Brown, I was informed that a social worker was picking me up in the morning, so I pack my bag. Packing my bags was basically a black trash bag stuffed with the clothes I had received over the last two weeks, my tooth brush and a brush that a neighborContinue reading “Pocketed Change”
I started by putting on the clothes from the previous day. And tried to brush my hair back into a braid with my fingers being my only grooming tool. Once fully dressed and somewhat presentable, I emerged from the room hoping to see a bathroom before anyone saw me. No such luck.
The foster care system is a necessary evil in this country. It is an institution that is suppose to be a solution for children who need temporary shelter to escape an abusive or neglectful situation. In June of 1984, my siblings and I were introduced to Chicago’s foster care system. My mother was charged withContinue reading “Loose Change”