My job at Hands Across the Water seems to have an element of reality television in it. As a licensing worker, I spend a lot of time with people who want to become foster parents. They share their life story with me, then they right it down in reams of documentation and then I rewrite it into a home study document. The process usually takes three to four months. I think it is safe to say that I get to know my families really, really well. Yesterday, I spent four hours with a family assisting them with their autobiography. When I left the home, I was so mentally exhausted that had a hard time focusing on my own family. I found myself snapping at my children and snarling at my husband over some really stupid stuff. My husband is a smart guy. When he comes home from work and finds me in this kind of mood, he works hard to stay out of my way. I think he told the kids to stay away from mom for a little while too. So I was left with no one to take my anger out on except myself and resorted to pounding the keys of my computer as I tried to get a little work done.
I soon realized that trying to work was pointless too. What was wrong with me!? It finally came to me that I had internalized the life story from the family I was working with and it was really upsetting me. My mind keeps jumping back to different details and experiencing it again. I have heard all kinds of life stories in the world of foster care and adoption, so this kind of thing isn't new to me. What is new to me is not having a place to talk about the things I heard. Due to confidentiality issues, I can't share any details here to get it off my chest. That makes it even more frustrating. Writing is a wonderful emotional outlet for me and I can't use it in this case. Not everyone can handle the kinds of stories that come from working in the foster care system. The children often come into care with horrific stories of abuse or neglect. Families talk of losing a loved one to substance abuse or the loss of a child. People who adopt internationally are changed by viewing the orphanages where there child first lived. My husband is a good listener but he has his limits.
If you have ever been to a class I have taught, you will know that I hate the concept of confidentiality. I am a talker and a writer. I love to share. I want people to know that foster parents can change lives. I understand the necessity for abiding by confidentiality laws and I am capable of doing so, but I do not like it. One of the places where some details can be shared openly is a support group. I love support groups. People come and share their stories and learn from each other. I am a facilitator for a support group at Hands Across the Water but I have to be honest and say that I get as much out of the group as my attendees. After all, I am an adoptive/foster parent too and I am always interested in new ideas. One parent shared that her family has decided not to share their adopted children's stories with extended family. She wants the family to accept the child as is, with no additional baggage to cloud judgement. I am fascinated with this idea because I have experienced judgmental behavior from extended family too. I also admire this family for being able to keep these matters private. I am pretty sure that would feel like an over filled balloon waiting to pop if I could not talk about my issues.
I am a big fan of sharing experiences. In support group, people learn that what they are going through has happened to others. There is a way out and established methods that can help in difficult situations. I am not sure what we can learn from Honey Boo Boo but I know that we can learn a great deal from each other when we share our stories. For good or for bad, many people know the my children's stories because of the nature of my job. My kids are growing up and they are starting to realize that they have a story to share. I asked my eight year old if anyone at school ever asked him about being adopted. He didn't even pause his Xbox game to answer, "No and if they do, I would tell them to go away!" Obviously he does not feel the need to share the way that I do. It is clear that I should work on helping him learn some constructive ways to answer people who ask too many questions.
I very much enjoy the talking aspect of my job. I know that my experiences in foster care can help others who are brave enough to walk this path. I am glad that I can answer questions for people. I am sure that I will continue to write my blog and share just a few too many details sometimes. That just seems to be who I am. In the mean time, I may just have to try out writing in a private journal to let off some steam.
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