It goes without saying that what foster families are doing in the community is important and arduous work. Some days we are called to care for a difficult child. Some days we are put in the awful situation of letting a child get attached to us and us them, while keeping it a secret that they will be moving to yet another stranger’s house in the next week. We are loving our nation’s most vulnerable. We are juggling parenting, trauma, homework, work, teachers, therapy, lawyers, case workers, specialists, CASAs, and our lives all at the same time. Deadlines for medical check ups. Deadlines for court reports. Deadlines for licensing hours. Deadlines for monthly health and safety visits. It’s a lot. But it’s also worth it. These kids are worth every single ounce of energy and every sacrifice. My point is, as foster parents we do this out of love and not for attention or special treatment or whatever benefit there might be (and believe me, they are slim. The gold here is watching a child experience joy and develop into better, happier, healthier versions of themselves). What we don’t ask for is negative attention, but it happens daily. So I wanted to share with you a list of things you shouldn’t ask fosters.

1.) Are they all YOURS? If I had a dollar for every time someone said this to me in the last year alone… Gente chismosa! We never really know how long we will be called to serve a child, so the answer should be “yes” because for the time being and until we’re told otherwise, they are all ours.

Mother’s Day 2018 we went to brunch near our home with 6 kids. At least 5 were under the age of 6 and they were on their best behavior. Please’s. Thank you’s. Appropriate mealtime conversation. Minimal mess. My kids were AWESOME and I was so touched. So elated. So happy. It was wonderful. What a gift. And as we walked out the door to leave, some lady loudly chimes “Please don’t tell me those are all YOUR kids.” It felt like judgment. It felt like a negative label, a put down, a “you’re not worthy of this experience.” She clearly saw a white woman with a latino man and a handful of kids of every color and made an assumption about the type of person I am. About my moral compass. It was upsetting and yet a great opportunity for me to reexamine how I perceive others.

2.) Do they all have the same dad? This comment used to get me all bothered. Our first experience was getting the kids’ haircuts at a little walk in salon not too far from our house last year. The three ladies working on our kids, chatting back and forth in Vietnamese. Looking at me. Looking at my husband. Looking confused. “Is he their dad?” “Yes, he is.” “Are they twins?” “How?” “Their skin.” They kept asking question after question and I shutdown. I ignored them. I just couldn’t understand. I was mad… and still tipped 20%… Sadly, now I expect to hear it. But really… Does it matter? Are you going to call my kid unwanted if they don’t share the same dad? Will you think of me any less?

My absolute favorite response to the above two questions is this: “Yep, all mine. Still trying to figure out who the fathers are.” Then walk away.

3.) WOW. It looks like you’ve got your hands full. Hi, can we not do that? NEVER in the history of helpful has this phrase ever been helpful. And there you stand, doing nothing. It’s kind of like when you tell a person to “calm down.” Help us out. Most days we feel like we’re barely keeping our heads above water. Between the schools calling, therapy appointments, social worker visits, CASAs, attorneys, etc… we do have our hands full. REALLY full. Tell us something encouraging instead because chances are we need it!

4.) They are so lucky to have you. I know. It’s easy to think that when you see us taking them to Disneyland and making up for “lost time.” But don’t. We are the lucky ones, not them. There is nothing lucky about being in foster care. There is nothing lucky about being made to live in a stranger’s house or carrying every worldly possession in a garbage bag. I appreciate the thought and the compliment you’re intending to give us when you say that, but please don’t. The privilege is ours in the deepest sense. To experience fun adventures. To advocate for their every need. To go to court for them. To get spit on and yelled at and to put the carpet cleaner into rotation almost daily. To teach them how to ride a bike or swim or cook or drive. To say yes to the next phone call that comes in the middle of the night. These kids are forced to do hard things… the best thing I’ve ever done is walk alongside them.

5.) You must be a saint. Ha! Clearly you don’t know me. I’m a speeder and a cusser and stubborn and grumpy before my first cup of coffee. I’m no saint nor do I act like it. I’m no better than anybody else. No one tricked me into a houseful of kids, I chose this life.

6.) I could never do what you do. I’d get attached. We foster parents get attached. The government is not placing a bunch of vulnerable kids with sociopaths who feel ice cold nothing. Just sayin’. Saying goodbye to a child is hard. Not knowing what the next chapter holds for them is hard. My heart breaks literally every time. Heart-wrenching-Lifetime-Original-Movie-sobbing-until-my-head-aches cries. But that’s the beauty here – these children deserve to have people’s hearts break for them. To invest in them. To cry for them. To pray for them. To emotionally invest in them no matter the stakes.

If you believe you’d get attached to a child and your heart would ache for them if they left your care, then you would be a wonderful foster parent! Please, consider fostering so that child doesn’t have to sleep on an office floor.

7.) Don’t you want to have your own kids? I’m not even going to dignify that question with a response. We are probably not friends so I don’t have to worry about telling you {as kindly as possible} to fuck off. These kids may not have my DNA but they are just as much mine.

8.) What’s the story on this kid? That’s really private and privileged information. Oftentimes, its so classified that we foster parents may not even know. Out of respect for the child’s privacy, please don’t ask. Now, if you are a foster parent talking to someone in placement about taking a child into your care, then this is an acceptable question. We always vet our kids for two reasons: 1.) we are not equipped to take a high needs / medically fragile child 2.) we are unwilling to expose our kids to another child who has been sexually abused or exhibits sexualized behaviors. (As an undergrad at the University of WA, I worked as a social worker with SAY “sexually agressive youth”. I have the skills and knowledge to work with this population but I would never be able to have them in my home. I truly believe that youth in this category belong in residential settings because rehabilitation is extremely difficult and risk of exposure is so great).

We know kids whose parents are serving life sentences for murder. We know kids who are in foster care because their single parent died. Because their parents are drug addicts. Because their parents are in jail. Because the grandma who raised them is in hospice. Because neglect. Abuse. Deportation. Homelessness. The list goes on…