Hot and bothered

Y'all...it's hot.

Louisiana hot.

On days when I know I'm shooting a story outdoors, I pick out my outfit based on "most likely to conceal mass quantities of sweat."

I had one of those days this week.

I was set to shoot the August feature for KPLC's The New Family Tree, where I interview a foster child who is hoping to be adopted.  We were meeting at Lock Park in Lake Charles and I showed up 15 minutes early to get set-up, while also allowing my camera lens to adjust to the crazy high humidity.

When I made my way to the park's pavilion, I noticed one of the tables was already taken.  A man was sitting there, already sweaty from the day, with his overstuffed duffle bag right next to him.

He didn't turn around at first, but the commotion I was making with my larger than life tripod eventually caught his attention.

"Are you doing a news show here or something?" he asked me.

"Hi there.  I'm taping a segment for a future newscast in just a few minutes.  I'll be sure to stay out of your way, so no need to move if you're comfy where you are,"  I responded.

"What's the story?" he asked.

"There's a boy who has spent a couple of years in foster care and is hoping to be adopted," I said.  "I do these stories once a month in the hopes that someone will see the child, connect with him or her and pursue the adoption."

The man's raised eyebrows lowered and he turned away from me for a few seconds.

I could feel the humid air enveloping both of us as the silence lingered.

"That was me," the man said.  "I was a foster child from when I was 10...until...well, until I decided I would just have to be on my own when I was 16."

It was obvious that the years to follow have been tough on this man.  I could see the rolled up blanket shoved into the top of his bag that wouldn't zip.

He was a drifter without a home.

I sat down at the picnic table next to him.  He told me his name was Vladimir. I would have never guessed that.

I told him my name was Britney.  "Britney Glaser," which he heard as "Iglesias."

"Iglesias?  I wouldn't have guessed that," he said.

So there we were.  Vladimir and Iglesias, talking foster care, adoption, and the fears of a 10-year-old boy when life is suddenly disrupted in the scariest of ways.

"It was hard," Vladimir told me.  "And I have several siblings all over the place."

"How do you think adoption would've affected where you are today?" I asked him.

Sticky, hot, stalled silence followed that question.

Then he answered.  "I don't know..."

I could hear car doors close in the distance.  A boy walked toward me, looking at the ground with his case worker next to him.

My heart always breaks in that first moment I see the foster child and my mind races with questions: "This child?  Why wouldn't a mom, dad, grandparent, aunt or uncle choose to raise this child?  How long has he been in transition?  Why him?"

"Hi there!  I'm Britney and I'm so happy to meet you!"

"I'm J'Von," he said.

"You're such a good looking guy!  How old are you?" I ask.

"Ten," he responds.

My heart sinks and I wonder if Vladimir can hear our conversation.

Ten years old.  That was when Vladimir's foster care journey started, one that would end with no one ever pursuing his adoption.

When I feature a foster child for a television news story, I know that he or she has been in state care for a long time, typically at least a couple of years.  It takes several months for case plans to go from parental reunification to termination of parental rights to free for adoption.  J'Von has already been through all of that in order to be cleared for this interview.

The featured children are also selected by case workers when they feel all other means of trying to get the child into an adoptive placement have been exhausted.  J'Von represents one of the hardest to place groups of children in foster care: African-American, male, and over the age of five.

When we sat down at the picnic table to talk, I could tell how nervous this soon-to-be fifth grader was.  We talked about his favorite things: green slushes from Sonic, catching crawfish, and mud-riding.

J'Von started to relax and I pressed "record" on my camera.

I've never had an audience for one of these interviews, but today I did.  Vladimir sat about 20 feet away from our picnic table, listening in, nodding his head and smiling as J'Von answered my questions.

I stuck to surface level questions for a few minutes: favorite food, subject in school, sport, etc.

Then it came time for the "meat" of the interview.

"Do you understand why we are talking today?" I asked J'Von.

"To get me adopted," he said.

"Is that something you want to happen?" I asked.

"Yes.  'Cause ever since I was little I've moved from place to place," he said.

"Let's talk about the type of family you'd like to be a part of.  Do you want a mom and a dad or would one parent be okay?"  I asked.

"It doesn't really matter," said J'Von, "as long as I have a family to live with."

I asked J'Von if it's scary living in different homes and not knowing how long he will be in each place.  He said he's gotten used to it and he's not scared anymore.

I don't know if that answer was the truth or if J'Von was just trying to be tough.  Either way, both answers bother me and I hope they bother you.

A child should not have to be so accustomed to moving around to strangers' homes that he gets "used to it."

And if J'Von is covering up his fears about this uncertain, transitional life, that is indeed another tragedy.

I gave J'Von a hug after our interview and told him I was incredibly proud of his bravery in doing the story.

I always want to tell the child, "I know someone is going to want to adopt you," but what I've learned is that lots of people do respond after seeing the story air, but baggage scares prospective parents.  J'Von told me himself that he's had some behavioral issues, but that he is working to be better.  He also said having a mom or dad would help him behave more.

I believe him.

I told J'Von he definitely earned a green slush from Sonic for doing this story and he gave me a big smile.

We posed together and his case worker snapped a picture for his life book, something children in foster care have to document memories and experiences.

All the while, Vladimir sat with his duffle bag in the heat, 20 feet away.

J'Von and I said goodbye and I started packing up my camera gear.

"So do these stories actually help?" asked Vladimir, the first words he'd uttered since J'Von arrived 30 minutes earlier.

"They do," I said.  "Not 100 percent of the time, but children are being adopted, more adults are pursuing adoption certification and we are constantly raising awareness about the need for adoptive families."

"I didn't know there were so many children without homes," Vladimir said.

"It's sad," I responded.

I wanted to tell Vladimir I was sorry that he aged out of foster care without a family. That I was sorry his shelter on this 96 degree day was a public park pavilion.  That I was sorry when the holidays roll around in a few months he won't have a place to carve a turkey or share Christmas memories with loved ones.

"It was nice to meet you," is all that I found myself saying as we parted ways.

"You too.  Good luck," he said.

As I drove away, I couldn't help but imagine what will become of 10-year-old J'Von if he is never adopted.

Here's some statistics from Partners for Our Children, a policy center at the University of Washington, where 600 former foster kids were studied after aging out of care at age 18.  By 24 years old:

*Less than half are employed
*Only six percent have a two or four year degree
*Two-thirds of the women are pregnant/have had a baby
*60 percent of the men have been convicted of a crime
*Almost 25 percent have been homeless at some point

Can't we do better for kids like J'Von?

I know we can.  Don't let the "baggage" of a child in foster care turn you away.

Vladimir's overstuffed bag was a physical representation to me of what years of foster care can turn into - a continuation of survival mode, but this time with no real promise of a change.

J'Von has promise.  I hope you can see it.

-Britney

J'Von's story will air in The New Family Tree on Tuesday, August 4th at 10:00 P.M.  Click here to read more about J'Von.

The downfall of sibling groups...

Today is my brother's birthday.  I had just turned five years old the week before Brady was born and one of my earliest memories is his birth.

I woke up to the smell of pancakes filling the house and was excited to see my Great Uncle Jake in the kitchen cooking his famous "silver dollar pancakes."  His presence there also meant that the time had come to get a new brother or sister.

My sister, Courtney, and I were taken to the hospital with our sloppy ponytails and mismatched clothes to meet our new sibling.  And that was it.  The beginning of an automatic, understood bond that forms between siblings.

The differences between the three of us were/are...very different!  But the similarities we share carry on to this day from what we find funny to our mannerisms, impressions of our dad, appreciation for growing up in a simple, but fulfilling way - and the value of family.

Over the past two years, the birthday boy has married both of his sisters.  By married, I mean performed the beautiful ceremonies and reading of the vows:)

Now, all three siblings - me, Courtney and Brady's wife (Brittney) - have babies on the way at the same time.

I cannot imagine a life without my brother and sister.  If I try to delete them from childhood memories and experiences, then those special moments that still make me smile no longer have significance.

But there are some brothers and sisters who shared lives together - only to be separated.  

For children who end up in foster care, this separation is because of neglect or abuse by the people they trust most, yet those adults rattled the lives and stability of their innocent children.

When I received notification in October of who I would be featuring for November's "The New Family Tree" adoption story on KPLC-TV, my heart sank.  For the first time since I started doing the segment, the Department of Children and Family Services wanted me to feature a sibling group.  Not two children, not three...four children, living in separate homes for more than two years, but hoping to be adopted together.

That's not all...they range in age from seven to 12 years old.  There are three boys and one girl, and they are African-American.  Should that matter?  Absolutely not.  But it does when it comes to adoption through foster care.

Age, race and gender are the biggest factors for people when choosing a child to be matched with in adoption.  That trifecta - combined with this being a large sibling group - concerned me that a feature segment with the four could lead to dashed hopes of being adopted together.

One child is a huge responsibility for someone to consider bringing into a home.  Two, three...four.  That's a very special person with a special calling!

For the past two years, the four siblings have been living in separate foster homes.  Fortunately, the older two were placed together and the younger two were placed together.  However, the four only see each other a few times a year.  That is missed birthdays, missed Christmases and Thanksgivings.  There are missed days, weeks and months to experience life together.

When I watched the four reunite for our filming day, I had to choke back the tears.  Dontae, the oldest and softest spoken sibling quietly commented on how tall his brother Leon had grown.  Then I watched Delores touch her youngest brother's face and ask if he has always had a specific mark near his eye.  Then they asked about school and who picked out their outfits for the day.

12-year-old Dontae

Nine-year-old Delores

Eight-year-old Leon

Seven-year-old Hakeem

As a reporter, you are always encouraged to dive as deeply as you can with the person you are interviewing.  Find the emotion.  Let the raw feelings show.  But there is something about interviewing these children in their most vulnerable moments that keeps me from going too deep.

Maybe I do not want to really hear the pain in their voices.  Maybe I do not want to think back to the last time they were all together in one home likely being a traumatic day where state workers came in to bring them to temporary homes.  Maybe it is that I do not want to know what it is really like to be away from the people I love the most and never took advantage of me: my siblings. 

I have been praying for these three brothers and one sister since I met them.  I have also prayed specifically for the mom and dad who would adopt them together.

But the downfall of a sibling group in foster care is that it is oftentimes just too much.  

Each child can be adopted individually.  Someone might just want a daughter, like Delores.  Someone might just want a young boy, like Hakeem.  Or maybe an adoptive parent is interested in a boy who wants to be a cowboy and loves country music, like Leon.  Then there could be someone who feels called to adopt an older child, like Dontae.

While the adoption of any of these children would be deemed a step in the right direction for the child's future to be more stable, I pray that the number of siblings in this group does not lead to them spending even more years in foster care.

I think about my brother and sister and how differently we might have turned out if we had been raised in different homes.  It is unimaginable.

There has to be a mom and dad out there willing to say, "Yes, a sibling group would be a big adjustment, but we have the love to share."  You will undoubtedly get it in return - multiplied by four:)

Britney

Click here to watch the KPLC-TV story featuring the four siblings.

Fostering the most fragile children and teens

Foster parents are heroes.

They open their homes to children and youth in desperate situations, love them, nurture them and grow attached to them.  Then the day comes.  These heroes say goodbye to the children that they cared for during the crisis that might have lasted one day, one month, one year...or even more.

Foster parents don't always know how safe or loving the home will be when the child returns.  Biological parents are required to meet certain standards before this reunion happens.  When the parents aren't able to meet the standards or they simply refuse to, these children will end up in the foster-to-adopt scenario that opens them up to a lot of uncertainty, mixed with the hope of a new, stable family.

I've met several foster parents over the past couple of months of working on The New Family Tree.  They love the children that they know are not their own.

One of these special foster moms is a woman named Carolyn Dunning.  She raised her three biological sons, but knew she still had more love to give.

Carolyn worked with special needs children and youth for nearly 20 years.  When she heard about Louisiana Mentor, she knew she found her calling: fostering the most fragile children and teens.  "They have a lot of needs that some people might look over," she said, "and you can help these children if you just give them the time and just working with them to see what they are able to do."

Louisiana Mentor has been around since 2005, offering training for foster parents to care for children and youth with emotional, behavioral and medical challenges.  This empowerment sets the foster child up for success and stability in a caring home.  "I completed 36 hours of training," said Carolyn.  "I learned how to work with them on their behaviors.  You learn about their medications, how to give them their medications."

There are a couple of different programs offered through Louisiana Mentor: therapeutic foster care and medically fragile foster homes.  This program fills the gap with the Department of Children & Family Services, Office of Juvenile Justice and Office for Citizens with Developmental Disabilities.

Foster parents are compensated with a standard foster board payment, as well as a monthly stipend that varies depending on the child's or youth's needs.

Carolyn was placed with two girls, ages 10 and 12 a year and a half ago.

The neglect was so extreme with the younger girl that Carolyn had to start with the basics.  "She didn't know how to tie her shoes, she couldn't open up the door, she couldn't bathe, she couldn't put her clothes on.  It was just a lot of things that were lacking with her."

But through love, stability and consistency, both girls are now thriving.

Mentors may be married or single, men or women - they just need to have the compassion for a person in need and the commitment to make a positive difference.  "Somebody helped us, so we're just turning it right back and helping another child," said Carolyn.

BJ Gallent is a recruiter with Louisiana Mentor and she says there is a big need for more adults to open their homes to these foster kids.  It's about never giving up on a child, no matter how big their needs may seem.

If you want to learn more about Louisiana Mentor or Mentor programs in other states, click here.

To talk to BJ about becoming a mentor, call her at 318-451-7556.

-Britney

Tyrene says he will "give thanks" to adoptive family

Sometimes we just need to have a good cry.

There's something about the privacy and seclusion of my car that gives me permission to let that happen.  Don't worry...the car is parked when the floodgates open.

My most recent driver seat outburst was after wrapping up an interview with a boy named Tyrene.

I first met Tyrene a couple of weeks ago at a foster child celebration event hosted by Trinity Baptist Church in Lake Charles.  It was an eye-opening evening of fun and heartache - all rolled into one mush of emotions.  Some of these children were there with their adoptive parents.  Some were there with foster parents, knowing that it's just a matter of time until they are reunited with their biological parents.  And then there are the others, like Tyrene, fully aware that they are in the system until someone steps up.

For Tyrene, there has not been one phone call throughout his years in foster care.  Can you imagine what that must feel like?

Tyrene does not have behavioral or emotional problems.  In fact, he is the most polite and gentle child I've ever met.  That's not me making a statement just to get you to think about adding him to your family.  It is 100 percent true.

On my second meeting with Tyrene, two cameras, microphones and lights were involved.  I could tell Tyrene was nervous, but he bravely agreed to talk on camera because he knew this could be his best shot at getting adopted.

I started off with the basic questions: 

What grade are you in?

Fourth.

What are your favorite subjects?

Math and reading.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

A police officer.

What do you like to do for fun?

I like playing with my foster brother.  We play outside.  I like basketball a lot.  I wash the dishes and the cars, too.  And I like learning about Jesus.

Then the conversation needed to shift to the heart of Tyrene's story.

What kind of parents would you like to have?

Any parents.

Would it matter to you if they were black or white?

That doesn't matter to me.

What about if they lived in the country versus the city?

That doesn't matter either.

What kind of things would you like to do with a family?

Just spend family time together.

Do you know what it means to be adopted?

That I could be in a home forever.

I know you have older siblings, what has it been like being separated from them.

Awful.  

If a family told you that they could give you a home and love, what could you give them?

Thanks.  I would give them thanks.

Tyrene is another "hard to place" foster child.  As an older African-American male, he is likely to spend more time in foster care than other children, particularly those that are Caucasian, younger and female.  This classification as hard to place also means that Tyrene could qualify for financial help to offset monthly expenses.

I pray that you consider adopting Tyrene.  Sure he's a little older and you aren't going to see all of the "firsts" that come with a baby or toddler.  But think about the firsts Tyrene still has left to experience!  His first Christmas with a mom and dad.  His first time at school to write down the names of parents.  His first time to have a forever parent cheering him on at basketball games.  He has a lifetime of love to give and you will undoubtedly receive it in return.

Tyrene is legally ready to be adopted.  To learn more about adopting him or one of the other 350 children in state care, call the Department of Children & Family Services: 337-491-2470 or 1-800-814-1584.

Check out Tyrene's story on KPLC's The New Family Tree here.

-Britney