Personal Narrative: Growing Up In Foster Care

I began my social work studies over twenty-five years ago at Utah State University in Logan, Utah. I never questioned my decision to pursue a career in social work; I loved my classes and worked hard to learn as much as possible. But the information I gained in undergraduate school simply opened the doors of my education. Most of my learning has come through constant questioning, personal research, and especially through work and life experience. Through these experiences I have encountered the challenges faced by individuals, families, and society and have been able to further access and develop the innate personality traits and abilities that originally led me to study social work as well as learn and practice the many skills necessary to be a successful mental health counselor.

I was only two years old when my mother passed away. Left with an absentee father, I felt a void in my life. I was constantly misunderstood by other family members, which triggered my aggressive behaviors and communication style. Unable to cope with my emotions as an adolescent, I sought help from my school’s social worker. For the first time, it felt great to express my feelings without worrying about being judged. Through our regular meetings, she helped me improve my social development and attitude. She changed my life as I was becoming a better person. In addition, with her assistance, my family and I were able to value communication, understand each other and live in a healthier environment. This chapter of my life has inspired me to pursue a career in social work and be part of a team who continuously helps people overcome obstacles in their lives.

As stated before, my journey in social work hasn’t been straightforward, yet one life experiences have

Experiencing hardships and my resilience to overcome them is the main reason I chose to pursue a Master’s of Social Work (MSW) degree. My familiarity with asking for resources, as a former foster youth, a number of my interactions involved social workers. I utilized resources as a transition aged youth; and I believe it was those same resources that kept me focused on my future and school. I became homeless at eighteen years of age and it was transitional housing, through The Department of Children and Family Services (DCFS) that gave me hope and direction.

The cops found me after three days. They decided it wasn’t working for me living at that other house so they moved me to different foster home. I’ve been to three different foster homes in the last month and a half, and now I’m on my fourth. I guarantee you I won’t last long here either. I’m already leaving this place without their permission.

“From what we get, we can make a living; what we give, however, makes a life” (Arthur Ashe). Entering the foster care system at the age of nine became a probability. Mental health issues and imprisonment plagued my parents, resulting in my removal from their care. There were no direct family members that were willing to care for myself except my aunt. My case worker conducted a home visit and she brought by a piggy bank made out of a sock. It must have been around Christmas time. That memory is the only memory I have of my case worker. From that day onward, I told myself that I would become a social worker. I told myself that I would become a better social worker than the one assigned to myself. I had no understanding of the stressful

Growing up, I had never heard of foster care. I did not know anyone who had been in foster care and I only knew of one person in high school who lived in a home with abusive parents. I was friends with a handful of people who had been adopted, but was ignorant to the fact that their adoption potentially impacted them on a daily basis and in every area of their life. The first time I had a real glimpse into the world of abused and neglected children was in 2005 when I was a senior in high school and took a trip with my church to Peru. I visited an orphanage and spent several days playing with the children who lived there. I did not know it at the time, but that experience sparked my journey into the field of social work. I attended Hope College, a liberal arts Christian college in Western Michigan. I knew that I wanted to go into a helping profession and declared social work as my major my Sophomore year. I chose social work over other degrees such as sociology or education because I knew that I wanted to work directly with children and families to help them change and improve their lives. I studied hard and was fortunate enough to be offered a full time internship at Casa Central in Chicago, IL. Casa Central was a private child welfare agency working primarily with Spanish-speaking clients. My world view broadened as I came

Growing up in the foster care system can be a traumatic experience for most of the children in this population. This study takes a closer look at certain types of abuse, rather than traumatic experiences suffered extensively, that ultimately led to the diagnosis of PTSD. Most of the abuse consisted of either rape, torture, and/or molestation. The methods and data were obtained from 732 foster care adolescents, ranging from 17 to 18 years of age. The study assessed the trauma within the DSM-V that the participants were exposed during their lifetime, and the diagnosis of PTSD that followed. The results of this study showed that 80.3 percent of the participants were exposed to at least one major traumatic experience, with 61.7

On many levels, I secretly desire to be this professional social worker that has experienced many different realms of social work practice. As I maneuver through my first couple days of field, many questions run through my mind as to what’s to be expected of a master’s level social work. Although, I’ve only had the pleasure of working children and families as a social worker; it has broaden my desire to want to know more.

“Don’t ever let someone tell you, you can’t do something. You got a dream, you got to protect it.”

For a majority of my life, I wanted to be a pediatrician when I grew up. I had wanted to be a pediatrician due to my passion to work with children, in addition to enhancing the lives of children. As I continued to grow up, I realized that science is not my strong suit and I would never survive medical school. I do not recall how I learned about the profession of social work, but around the eighth grade I have known that social work was the profession that I wanted to pursue. The idea of helping others is what initially struck me as compelling because I did not understand social work in it’s entirety, but I knew that I would relish a life of helping other individuals.

Burned bacon and eggs as thin as water, “worst breakfast mom makes better” Michael cried Mrs. Malison the foster “Mom” didn’t care though she slapped Michael and said “eat your food or you’ll sleep in the shed today.” Michael thought anything is better than his actual foster bedroom, its black, greasy walls, and rickety bed it was horrible. When Michael woke up from his nightmare of the first day at the foster home, when rubbing the sleep out of his eyes Michael walked down stairs to see Mrs. Malison shooting her AK- 47 at the bird nest and Mr. Malison laying on the coach drinking Bud Light and reading the newspaper from two weeks ago. Michael was now fourteen years old and was still being treated as a three year old, he wished he could leave this place for ever. When Michael was three years old his mom and Dad divorced and his Mom sent him to this foster home. The only thing he remembered that day was when his mom arrived at the foster home she

Our life experiences play a large role in shaping who we are as people. My childhood experiences influenced the woman that I am today. My father was abusive. He abused my mother, my siblings, and myself. Whether it was a domestic assault against my mother, slapping of my siblings, or a daily cursing session, our house has always been in turmoil. There were adults that knew about the abuse going on in my home, including teachers. However, none of them intervened for my brothers and I. I cannot help but wonder how my life would have been different if someone had. Experiencing child abuse, as well as my mother’s domestic abuse, is my greatest catalyst in pursing a graduate degree in social work. Pablo Picasso once said, “The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away.” Child abuse could have broken my spirit but it made me stronger. It sparked my interest in mental health, and showed me the importance of compassion. I plan to use my gift to help others improve their quality of mental health, and encourage the development of self-determination.

I'm not the most privileged being on earth but I am a most compassionate one. My foster mother hailed from Mississippi. We were different in many ways, but she put it all aside to make sure that I was cared for. I decided to take up football my freshman year because I had begun taking a liking to it. I always had a competitive spirit and longed to put it to the test. My foster mother was extremely supportive and was glad that I was doing something worthwhile. I would exhibit the same compassion she had for me a little while later. My sophomore year, I had a friend who struggled with OCD. He didn't acquaint himself with many, yet I was his trustworthy and loyal friend. He was stressed out and decided that he was going to take a break from sports.

Every worthwhile journey begins with one step. My social work journey began when I received my undergraduate degree from the University of Utah in 2003. I thought my next step would be to immediately pursue a graduate degree. In my undergraduate career I had taken numerous classes from the College of Social and Behavioral Science and had done well in those classes. In my Social Work as a Profession course I had an assignment to shadow a social worker and write a paper about my experience. I chose to shadow my father-in-law, a social worker with over 30 years of experience, and in my paper I expressed my desire to go into the social work field. I knew I liked helping people. I knew I liked problem solving and critical thinking. I thought my 22 year-old self was ready to embark on that journey, but I wasn’t. I realize now that what I lacked at graduation was one crucial step… perspective. Over the past twelve years I have gained that much needed perspective and have taken many steps forward in my journey, and with those steps and that increased perspective, I now feel more fully prepared to begin my social work career.