(Intro from Foster Mom) We all have a story. Felecia's story is filled with heartache, abandonment and pain. She's overcome adversity and has yet to give up. I'm honored to feature such a courageous woman on our blog. My hope is that her story compels you to take action against whatever obstacles are standing in your way. Or better yet...may her words challenge you to reach out to the homeless youth or foster children in your community.
This is the first time she's shared her story...
*** Guest Post by Felecia ***
I want to take the time to introduce you to the “Parents” in my life and how I will be referring to them:
- Biological Mother = mother
- Biological Father = “George”
- Step Father = Dad
- Foster Mom = Momma
- Foster Dad = Pops
I have 7 siblings. 5 are biological and 3 are foster…
In order of birth they are:
- M – my biological big brother who is the biological son of Mother and “George”
- N – my twin sister who is the biological daughter of Mother and “George”
- D – my biological little brother who is the biological son of Mother and Dad
- K1 – my biological little sister who is the biological daughter of Mother and Dad
- K2 – my foster little sister who is the biological daughter of Pops and Momma
- J – my foster baby brother who was adopted by Pops and Momma
- R- my foster baby sister who is the biological daughter of Pops and Momma
Unfortunately my foster care story is much like a puzzle that I am still slowly piecing together. I have only come to know more details of it in recent months, after finding a box of 20 year old paperwork buried deep in my Dad’s closet. From these documents and our vague memory, my twin and I have gathered the following:
Childhood History
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| N & I during one of Dad's visits |
Due to the lifestyle of mother (being separated from one man and having an affair with another who was physically unavailable at the time) we lived alone with her in Virginia and Dad and George visited.
For some reason at the age of two or three N and I went to live with our maternal grandmother while M stayed with mom. By the age of four Dad had separated from his first wife and moved in with mother. It was still uncertain as to who N and I belonged to, Dad or George. Dad demanded that we move back in with him and Mother.
Social Services Stepped In
Again, for reasons still unknown to me, social services became further involved with us at this point and determined that living with Dad and Mother was an “unhealthy” environment.
According to the old paperwork we recently found, mother was “unfit” and Dad was “dangerous and in need of anger management”. For the next two years it appears that there were many court hearings and custody battles with George. It was determined that he was our biological father, however that went nowhere. He was deemed even more “unfit” and “unstable” than mother.
We (M, N, and myself) were placed into foster care.
According to the old paperwork we recently found, mother was “unfit” and Dad was “dangerous and in need of anger management”. For the next two years it appears that there were many court hearings and custody battles with George. It was determined that he was our biological father, however that went nowhere. He was deemed even more “unfit” and “unstable” than mother.
We (M, N, and myself) were placed into foster care.
First Time In Foster Care
Our time in foster care was very brief and probably only lasted a few months. We hardly recall it but what we do recall is that we stayed with a woman who told us to call her “Memal”.
She kept us locked in a bedroom, with an attached bathroom, along with two or three other kids.
We were given blankets at nap time and fed the most disgusting peanut butter sandwiches (I don’t know where she got this stuff but she bought it in bulk and kept it in her freezer).
I remember endlessly staring out the window waiting for Dad and mother to return…
I remember the last day we were there. Dad and Mother picked us up. Dad was arguing with Memal. I remember her saying that we would be back and Dad, rather colorfully responding that we wouldn’t be…
We moved back in with Dad and Mother.
She kept us locked in a bedroom, with an attached bathroom, along with two or three other kids.
We were given blankets at nap time and fed the most disgusting peanut butter sandwiches (I don’t know where she got this stuff but she bought it in bulk and kept it in her freezer).
I remember endlessly staring out the window waiting for Dad and mother to return…
I remember the last day we were there. Dad and Mother picked us up. Dad was arguing with Memal. I remember her saying that we would be back and Dad, rather colorfully responding that we wouldn’t be…
We moved back in with Dad and Mother.
What Happens at Home Stays at Home
We were living in Pennsylvania at the time. Prior to settling there we lived in Delaware, Maryland, and Virginia in an attempt to elude social services during the chaotic first six years of life.
When I was six, D was born. Dad and Mother had managed to keep their act together enough to convince social services that they were wasting their time…and they gave up. By this point we were old enough to go to school. Dad and Mother made it very clear that...
“What happens at home stays at home.”
“housework before homework.”
“Children are to be seen and not heard”
These were some of Dad’s favorite phrases.
We lived extremely sheltered lives…
When I was six, D was born. Dad and Mother had managed to keep their act together enough to convince social services that they were wasting their time…and they gave up. By this point we were old enough to go to school. Dad and Mother made it very clear that...
“What happens at home stays at home.”
“housework before homework.”
“Children are to be seen and not heard”
These were some of Dad’s favorite phrases.
We lived extremely sheltered lives…
After years of teachers and guidance counselors inquiring about our bruises, kerosene odor, and complete lack of adequate clothing they finally decided to do something…
They called the Salvation Army.
A couple of weeks before Christmas the Salvation Army brought us a ton of stuff! Presents, clothes and food! Despite our excitement, Dad and Mother did not take too kindly to this gesture of charity requested by our guidance counselor. I don’t know if it was Dad’s love for Christmas or whatever that Guidance Counselor said to him, but Dad went from angry to cheerful and helped the Salvation Army people carry the stuff in. We had a wonderful Christmas that year.
They called the Salvation Army.
A couple of weeks before Christmas the Salvation Army brought us a ton of stuff! Presents, clothes and food! Despite our excitement, Dad and Mother did not take too kindly to this gesture of charity requested by our guidance counselor. I don’t know if it was Dad’s love for Christmas or whatever that Guidance Counselor said to him, but Dad went from angry to cheerful and helped the Salvation Army people carry the stuff in. We had a wonderful Christmas that year.
It’s odd to me that I only remember the smallest toy that we got. A green Duncan yo-yo. I played with it endlessly for years and my Dad was always there to show me how it worked and to roll the string back up until I finally figured out how…I love how it is the smallest gifts that make a lasting impression.
Questioning Their Lifestyle
Mother became pregnant with K1and the stress in the home was much higher. The Guidance Counselor began asking questions again and it wasn’t long before social services were back.
My parent’s response was to move to Tennessee.
My parent’s response was to move to Tennessee.
We arrived in Tennessee a week after K1 was born and stayed for two years before moving back to Virginia. By this time N and I were almost 14. We began to make friends at school and from observing our peers we realized that not all families were like ours.
M and I began questioning Dad and Mother about their behavior and lifestyle. Doing so only caused us more grief.
M and I began questioning Dad and Mother about their behavior and lifestyle. Doing so only caused us more grief.
Eventually Mother decided we could venture out of the house for something besides school. She let us get work permits and jobs.
As it turns out her real motive was to have three teenagers with jobs to pay the bills and to began charging us rent.
As it turns out her real motive was to have three teenagers with jobs to pay the bills and to began charging us rent.
When I was 16, I had an argument with Dad and Mother. K1 was crying about bedtime and disturbing Mother’s movie watching. Dad came to me and said “She is your responsibility, now get her quiet!” My reaction only escalated the argument.
He said, "If you didn’t like it, then leave and never come back!"
It blew up further from there and the next thing I knew I was walking down the road with only the clothes I had on and my jacket. It was February of 2003 and it was freezing…
He said, "If you didn’t like it, then leave and never come back!"
It blew up further from there and the next thing I knew I was walking down the road with only the clothes I had on and my jacket. It was February of 2003 and it was freezing…
Run Away at 16
I didn’t go far before deciding to take shelter in and abandoned train yard. The empty train cars were marked “Army” and had not been in use since World War II. After finding one that was not already occupied by other homeless people, I closed the door and huddled in a corner and went to sleep.
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| The train car I lived in |
I have no idea how much time passed but eventually my supplies ran out and I went to my friends house hungry and thirsty. She told me the police had questioned her at school and that they were looking for me.
I later learned that when the police came to my parents house trying to locate me, my parents simply said that I had run away and they had no clue as to why…
N told me that while the officer was filling out the report neither of my parents could remember how to spell my first name, nor could they recall my middle name or even give a description.
N told me that while the officer was filling out the report neither of my parents could remember how to spell my first name, nor could they recall my middle name or even give a description.
At my friends house, we called our English teacher, who in return told the police where to find me. They took me to the station, questioned me and eventually called my parents to pick me up.
My parents refused to, stating that they did not want me and the officers told them they had to. My parents eventually agreed but told the officers I needed to walk home because they were not coming to get me.
Luckily the officers with me that night, knew of the issues in my home and suggested that I get emancipated, as I had straight A’s in school and a job.
The Hearing
With the help of my guidance counselor, one wonderful teacher, and a couple of great police officers I was scheduled for a hearing on Wednesday, April 16th, 2003. It was an open hearing and there were many CPS and DSS workers in attendance, all interested to hear how the judge was going to rule.
After a very long time the judge finally said that my parents were “idiots” and that I should NOT have to make it on my own at that age because they were “unfit” parents.
She gave DSS custody of me.
After a very long time the judge finally said that my parents were “idiots” and that I should NOT have to make it on my own at that age because they were “unfit” parents.
She gave DSS custody of me.
Being that DSS was not expecting this they had no clue what to do with me and I sat in the court house until 7pm. Eventually they were able to convince my maternal grandmother to take me in for two weeks.
"Trial Basis" Home
On Monday April 21, 2003 I was taken out of school early and driven to what was to be my “trial basis” home. The social worker refused to take me to my grandmother’s to get my trash bag of belongings. Upon entering my foster parents home, my stress continued as the first thing my foster mom said to me was...
“If you do anything to hurt my kids, you’re gone”.
Not knowing the purpose behind her feeling the need to issue this warning, I nodded my head in approval and silently sat down on the floor where I made fast friends with my new brother, J, who was two at the time.
“If you do anything to hurt my kids, you’re gone”.
Not knowing the purpose behind her feeling the need to issue this warning, I nodded my head in approval and silently sat down on the floor where I made fast friends with my new brother, J, who was two at the time.
After the social worker and Momma spoke briefly, the social worker left without another word to me. Momma, who seemed kind enough despite the initial warning, told me that K2 would be getting off the school bus soon and that she was excited to be getting a big sister. Being that they were expecting me the Friday before, 6 year old K2 looked at me as her Easter present.A few minutes later K2 came bouncing in the door and though quiet and smiley at first, soon became rather chatty (and seven years later she still hasn’t stopped talking) and presented me with an Easter basket that I still have.
Momma asked me where all of my stuff was and I told her how my trash bag was at my Grandmother’s. Shocked that that was all I had, she asked where all of my clothes were. I told her it all belonged to my parents. She said that it didn’t and that when Pops got home from work we would go to my Grandmother’s, then to my Parent’s house to get my stuff.
When we got to my parents house, Momma was only able to get a few more articles of clothing and my birth certificate and social security card.
After I hugged and said good-bye to my siblings, we walked outside and began to put my stuff in the trunk when K1 (who was 4 at the time) came bursting out the door, grabbed her bike, and declared to Momma that she was coming with us…
I can’t even begin to describe to you how horribly deep the break in my heart was as I watched Mother carry her back in the house kicking and screaming, as my other siblings watching out the windows.
I can’t even begin to describe to you how horribly deep the break in my heart was as I watched Mother carry her back in the house kicking and screaming, as my other siblings watching out the windows.
My Siblings
A week later M turned 18 and moved in with George, and a couple of months later N tried for emancipation. Pops and Momma prepared themselves for her to end up in foster care as well and agreed that she could move in with me. However, the same judge who placed me in the custody of DSS granted my twin’s emancipation and she moved in with her boyfriend at the time (who is now her husband).
We were able to see each other again. Also at this time, with the assistance of Pops and Momma, I took my parents to court and fought for sibling visitation rights of D and K. I won.
We were able to see each other again. Also at this time, with the assistance of Pops and Momma, I took my parents to court and fought for sibling visitation rights of D and K. I won.
My parents actually brought them to a couple of these visitations before moving out of state. I constantly sent D and K1 cards, letters, and gifts. Most of them were returned and it was five LONG years later before I got to see them again.
College Bound
By the time that I had turned 18 Pops and Momma had convinced me to go to college. They said I could make it, because I had a 3.7 GPA in high school and graduated with an Advanced Studies Diploma. Academically, they were right…it was the financial and housing end that worried me. They said that they would help. Sometimes they did, and when they didn’t my academic adviser seemed to always “just happen to have” a spare copy of the textbook I needed.
Part way through my freshman year Momma called to tell me that she loved me, which wasn’t odd but something was up. She told me that they were moving halfway across the country and that I was their daughter and could come as well.
I was loving college, had a social life and friends for the first time ever, and I didn't want to be that far from my biological siblings, so I declined. Although I knew in their eyes I was their daughter (Pops has my name tattooed on his arm after all) and that they weren’t abandoning me...
I still felt abandoned.
I felt alone and empty…
I was loving college, had a social life and friends for the first time ever, and I didn't want to be that far from my biological siblings, so I declined. Although I knew in their eyes I was their daughter (Pops has my name tattooed on his arm after all) and that they weren’t abandoning me...
I still felt abandoned.
I felt alone and empty…
I had no place to go for holidays and during the summer months when school was closed. They weren’t as available for phone calls throughout the months of the move and settling into their new home.
I was 19 and homelessness was a challenge, again.
Stay tuned for the Q&A (part 2) in our blog series with Felecia
I was 19 and homelessness was a challenge, again.
Stay tuned for the Q&A (part 2) in our blog series with Felecia
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