In June 2018, I received a call from the child welfare services to give respite care to a 9-year-old boy until an investigation was done. I was hesitant because at the time I was working two jobs, going to school full time, and writing a book. I barely had time for myself so there was no way I could take care of a 9-year-old, especially when I didn’t have a clue about his background. I said yes at first, then I thought about it and changed my mind. Someone called back from the office to ask me why I changed my mind. I explained my concerns about not having the time to give proper care to him at that time. They somehow convinced me to take him for a few days.
Three months later, he was still in my home and turning it upside down. We were all uncertain about the future of this boy. He was unsettled and so was the rest of us. At school, he was acting up, and understandably so. The teachers and guidance counselor reached out to me frequently to help with his behavior at school. I didn't know much about this child so I really couldn't help as much as I wanted to. He was technically a ward of the state so the behavioral techniques I used for my own children could not be administered to him.
I was overly tired and stressed out. I loved kids but didn't know what to do with this one. In addition, my younger son Iverson needed some attention with his transition from high school to college. He wasn't ready for his world to be disrupted, and the attention moved from him to the new kid in the house. I could tell he was upset. I tried to explain to him that the child needed our help. He was only 17 and had no desire to help or understand. He was busy trying to navigate his teen-aged self with all the different emotions and hormonal changes; girls, no girls, white friends vs black friends, ivy league schools vs HBCUs. He barely spoke or left his room after that. He didn't have anywhere to escape to, because his brother who lived in California and I were the only immediate family he had. His cousins who he confided in, live in New York.
It was a hard choice to make. Do I give up the child to make my own child happy, or do I keep the child and hope my son would understand someday? I was really hoping that I didn't have to make that choice. I was really hoping that they would find a loving home for him where he would thrive and be happy. I also knew I had to do right by this child, the way I hoped someone did with me when I was his age. If I could help it, I was going to protect him from going through the hardships I went through...the rejections, the neglect, the emotional abuse, and the desire for someone to love him.
After a year, the court made it his decision to go back to the home he was taken from or stay with me. He chose to stay with me. By then, I was attached and couldn't see my life without him. But most importantly, I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about him if I had opted to give him to yet another family. He had already gone through enough, so I decided to make my home his forever home, by adopting him.
God knows I was tired because I had my first child at age 15 and the second at 26. Both were unpleasant experiences, because of the circumstances surrounding them, and I was really tired of parenting. However, my studies in social work and psychology helped prepare me for what was to come. I decided to focus on all the good human traits I saw in him and nurtured them so he can develop into a wonderful human being with strong self-esteem. What the heck, I had an empty room, AN EMPTY ROOM!!! At one point in my life, I didn't even have a room. I slept where I could when I could. I had enough to share at this point in my life and so I did what I knew was the right thing to do. To whom much is given, much is expected.
I know the journey will not be easy, as I am trying to mold someone that was created by people I didn’t know. The mystery that was engraved in his DNA may not have unfolded yet, it was sometimes scary to think about it. There are so many unknowns. Was he even aware of his biological traits? In Spite of this, he was kind, loving, caring, and cognizant of the opportunity that he was being given, and that said a lot about the person he was. With those traits, all I needed was some more parenting tools and moral support. He is going to be a winner.
It has been three-plus years now since that day, and I am grateful that the powers that be chose me to be his mom. I get butterfly kisses, I get the beautiful smiles and a prideful face when I commend him on doing good. I get to see his growth and help with his challenges. I am honored that he trusts me to be his forever caregiver.
If you are ever placed in a position to help a child, do so in whatever way you can. I am living proof that children should not be judged by their circumstances or their brokenness, due to a lack of proper parenting. Children should be given a chance to experience love and enjoy being children. I know enough to know that I can’t save everyone and not everyone wants to be or can be saved. But if I can save one, I’ve saved many.
Many persons saved me with the kindness they offered. Now it’s my turn to pay it forward. This is why I have made it my life goal to help the Jamaica Women's Center in every way I can. Helping has brought me so much joy. How will you help and pay it forward?
Click on the books above to help a young lady in need
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