Four summers in a row we upended our lives and brought three foster kids from a Belarussian orphanage to live with us. It was hard. It was fun. It was heartbreaking. It was fulfilling. It was exhausting.
As we've joined countless other Americans watching footage of all the illegal immigrant children now in our country who have overwhelmed the processing centers and the border offices, I once again checked into being a foster parent, wanting to specifically request some of these kids. Mikalai's words still ring in my ears: You have a big house with no kids. We're kids with no family. Why can't we stay here?
And I want it to be that simple. I wish there was no such thing as red tape and regulations and home studies and fire inspections and laws...just simple supply and demand. It makes me angry that any Susy Q can become a Mom, but for me to adopt or foster I must attend parenting classes, have every inch of my home and personal life invaded, submit to a physical and countless interviews, fill out reams of paperwork, have a background check and a fire chief come inspect my home, and in North Carolina for fostering we'd have to include little fire escape route exit charts for each bedroom (you know, toddlers and primary age children really read those), and then I can only put only child in a bedroom. It doesn't matter that Henrietta has five children and lives in a two bedroom house and that we've requested a sibling group, we're still only allowed one child per bedroom.
So kids will continue sleeping on floors and in cars, and our bedrooms will remain empty because someone deemed themselves authority they do not deserve and mandated ridiculous requirements. (And yes, I know there is a reason for those requirements and deep down I somewhat understand, but it's still overkill.)
And as I listen to all my conservative friends who are supposed to show mercy and compassion to the downtrodden and remember "how this country was founded", I'm reminded of how this nation was formed of immigrants and unwanted, so much so that we mounted this poem at the entry port to welcome people:
And now this country that was once a "light set on a hill" says no to women and children who are sick with TB and scabies, who come from countries torn apart by drug wars and risk dying just to get here to this land of promise, and we with our huges houses that has empty beds and bedrooms and pantries loaded with food say "We can't afford you. Go back."
When President Nixon criticized Chinese leaders for not allowing people to leave their country, their response was, "If we open the doors for anyone to leave, will you open your doors to let the flood come in?" And according to my Chinese students, that was the end of the conversation.
I do think rules should be followed. But there should also be a humanitarian factor in place, as well as some common sense that exists (unlike some of our foster parenting rules).
We reap what we sow, and if you sow your seed correctly, the harvest is always greater than the planting.
Mikalai's words still ring in our empty house: You have a big house with no kids. We're kids with no family. Why can't we stay here?
As we've joined countless other Americans watching footage of all the illegal immigrant children now in our country who have overwhelmed the processing centers and the border offices, I once again checked into being a foster parent, wanting to specifically request some of these kids. Mikalai's words still ring in my ears: You have a big house with no kids. We're kids with no family. Why can't we stay here?
And I want it to be that simple. I wish there was no such thing as red tape and regulations and home studies and fire inspections and laws...just simple supply and demand. It makes me angry that any Susy Q can become a Mom, but for me to adopt or foster I must attend parenting classes, have every inch of my home and personal life invaded, submit to a physical and countless interviews, fill out reams of paperwork, have a background check and a fire chief come inspect my home, and in North Carolina for fostering we'd have to include little fire escape route exit charts for each bedroom (you know, toddlers and primary age children really read those), and then I can only put only child in a bedroom. It doesn't matter that Henrietta has five children and lives in a two bedroom house and that we've requested a sibling group, we're still only allowed one child per bedroom.
So kids will continue sleeping on floors and in cars, and our bedrooms will remain empty because someone deemed themselves authority they do not deserve and mandated ridiculous requirements. (And yes, I know there is a reason for those requirements and deep down I somewhat understand, but it's still overkill.)
And as I listen to all my conservative friends who are supposed to show mercy and compassion to the downtrodden and remember "how this country was founded", I'm reminded of how this nation was formed of immigrants and unwanted, so much so that we mounted this poem at the entry port to welcome people:
New Colossus by Emma Lazarus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
And now this country that was once a "light set on a hill" says no to women and children who are sick with TB and scabies, who come from countries torn apart by drug wars and risk dying just to get here to this land of promise, and we with our huges houses that has empty beds and bedrooms and pantries loaded with food say "We can't afford you. Go back."
When President Nixon criticized Chinese leaders for not allowing people to leave their country, their response was, "If we open the doors for anyone to leave, will you open your doors to let the flood come in?" And according to my Chinese students, that was the end of the conversation.
I do think rules should be followed. But there should also be a humanitarian factor in place, as well as some common sense that exists (unlike some of our foster parenting rules).
We reap what we sow, and if you sow your seed correctly, the harvest is always greater than the planting.
Mikalai's words still ring in our empty house: You have a big house with no kids. We're kids with no family. Why can't we stay here?
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