Moving into foster care

My Sister seemed to be very excited about the prospect of moving in with our new foster parents. We had, as I recall, had a number of days out with them and had stayed overnight at their house. Brian and Ellen were a middle aged couple who lived in the nearby city. They lived in a three bedroomed terraced house, he was a postman, the back garden overlooked a stream and they had a strange, old cat called Florence. These were the first memories I had of them!! Brian must have been over six feet tall, slim with white hair, and must have been in his fifties. Ellen by contrast was small with brown bobbed hair and easily in her forties. They seemed as nervous as we were the first time we met, yet after these interim contacts it was decided that they would be suitable foster parents for us, and so on one winters day we packed up our belongings and said goodbye to the children's home for what should have been a settled end to our childhood.....and they say pigs can fly!!

Within a few months both myself and my sister had settled well. I was attending XXX XXXXXX secondary school and my sister was still finishing her primary education. We quickly made our own sets of friends and life took on a strange form of normality. Of course I struggled wit what to call my foster parents. My sister seemed to have no problem in calling them mum and dad, yet I just couldn't bring myself to say it. One of my friends lived on the same street, and I can remember telling her that I lived at number 10, and she didn't believe me. She had obviously seen a middle aged couple had lived there with no sign of children, and then us. I cannot to this day remember how I explained it away, but at no point during my time there did I admit that I was fostered. My friendships developed with three people in particular, Tom, Sharon and Bonnie. These were friendships that would remain close throughout my time. My fondest memories were of attending the city's football club's training facilities every Saturday for games of football for youngsters, a meal and then onto watching the professional team play at 3.00pm. The first year sailed by, yet the only setback I suffered was the closure of my secondary school due to their not being enough attendees. Most of us transferred to another mainstream school, and I guess that's where my troubles began.

For me a change in school was second nature, this of course being my third secondary school within a twelve month period. Now I admit I wasn't a great student at my first school, and yes I did tent to mess about a little. However that was nothing compared to my behaviour at this second school. If truth be known I settled down well. I had a good group of friends, a girlfriend (Kirsty) and was playing football regularly for a club in the city. Socially life was good, I was always busy and if the truth be told I treated my foster parents place as a hotel. When I was at home I found myself to be at constant war with my sister, recalling that I even hit her on a number of occasions. She was spending more time with Brian and Ellen, and only had a few friends. The highlight of the year was a holiday to Butlin's, which I thoroughly enjoyed!! I found my time with them to be relatively stable and happy, yet my primary concern' was in staying with my friends. Yet even now I remember my attention span at school getting shorter, I wanted to spend time messing around and laughing, and whilst I cannot be sure I think I was even suspended at some point. This however came to a head possibly sixteen months after my arrival!!!

I remember this day well. On coming back from school I can remember seeing a strange woman sat in the kitchen. My face dropped and it was as if I instantly knew what was going on. She explained to me that Brian and Ellen had been experiencing problems with mine and Joanne's behaviour, and as a consequence one of us had to move. I was extremely quick to point out that it should be Joanne, afterall I was settled at school and had done nothing wrong..it was all her fault. I can even remember climbing into the loft and hiding as naturally I didn't want to go. I think that my distress at this time forced me into grabbing at any possibility of me staying, even at the expense of my own sister. However looking back it was clear to see that the decision had already been made...afterall I was the one experiencing problems at school, I was the one who treated the place like it was a hotel, and Joanne was at that time settling into school well and treating the place with the respect it deserved. Of course my immediate reaction was that I would be returned to the home, that I would lose my friends and that my whole life was over. Within an hour of the social services turning up I was packed and gone, I didn't even have time to say goodbye to my friends and to this day I have never seen any of them again.

I dint know at the time, but this proved to be a major tuning point in my life. Had I stayed there I can only surmise that I would have left school with no qualifications and my attitude towards all would have been poor. I wasn't returned to the children's home though...instead I was transferred to another set of foster parents, ones whom I had stayed at during my periods of 'holidays' as a youngster. As with all major emotional rollercoasters I remember the day I arrived at their house as if it was yesterday. Of course I do remember Norma and George from the earlier periods I had spent with them. I spent all of that day sobbing my heart out, still thinking that it was the end of my life. As much as they tried to console me I just couldn't help but think that I had lost everything. However one thing I know about children is that they are fickle, and they adapt to new situations quickly, and indeed the latter was something I had to do.

So what of my biological parents. When we moved to XXXXXXXX city I did not see my father once. I am unsure as to whether the social services put some form of control over contact in order for the foster placement to be given a chance. This was also the case with my mother, and whilst I did not forget that they existed, I felt that for the time being is was important to be part of a family. Even a move to another set of foster parents did not alter this view, and whilst again I failed see my father for the years I was there was one occasion when I was allowed to see my mother, which I will describe later on.