Originally published by National Black Justice Coalition
I never thought I would be a foster or adoptive parent. Growing up, it was never an option that crossed my mind when I thought about my future. I had no thoughts, negative or positive, in regards to the child welfare system. It was invisible to me.
Several years ago when I began to have the urge to have children, my wife and I (we were engaged at the time) discussed my feelings and decided that when we were ready, I would get pregnant and carry our child. There were many other things that needed to happen before that, however. For one thing, she wasn’t sold on the idea of children. We weren’t married and we were living in a one bedroom apartment. My motherly feelings were put on the back burner until we got everything in our life in order.
A few years later the topic resurfaced. It had never gone away for me and she was coming around to the idea of expanding our family because it would mean so much to me. Our relationship was solid, we had stability and we’d reached our goal of becoming homeowners. We discussed two options this time: 1) getting me pregnant and 2) private adoption. Somewhere along the line I added foster parenting to the mix. It was Plan C—the last option. We soon ruled out option two due to its significant cost and red tape. Though we could afford it, I didn’t think it was a wise use of funds for us and would rather use the money to finance my own pregnancy. I wanted the experience of pregnancy as much as I wanted the work and joy of actual parenting. So for a while, that was the plan. I was going to get pregnant and have our child. We had someone willing to be a donor and a timeline.
Our donor was going to be in the child’s life in a small capacity, but have no legal responsibility to the child. He wanted the child to know that they had a father and so did we. It would be one less stigma that they would have to deal with and one less question mark in their life. The child would also be able to visit and spend time with him if they wanted to. He was open to that and so were we. We live in different states so the visits would be limited, but still an option. And then life happened. Things changed in the life of our donor and we weren’t sure if he was still going to be willing to donate. The other person who we asked to donate had declined because he couldn’t see not being active in raising a child that came from him and we respected that. There was one more possible donor, but that option soon fizzled out and we were back to square one. It was around this time that I began to give more thought to fostering and adopting through the state. Plan C soon became Plan A.
Meeting DYFS (Division of Youth and Family Services [NJ])
It took a year from the time we decided to give serious thought to fostering to taking the first step: going to an information meeting for prospective parents. It took another month of communicating with each other before we decided to apply. We stalled because I wanted to be sure that my wife was just as accepting of this path as me and was not just doing it for me. I wanted her to make her own decision because I needed her. I couldn’t do it alone and didn’t want any regret or resentment down the line. We talked to several couples both in and out of state, lesbian and heterosexual, to hear stories and ask questions. I spoke to friends who I knew had been adopted and strangers (online) for their perspective of the process. This was a big life change and I wanted to be as informed as possible. I wanted to see real life examples of what to expect. During that time, my wife came around and we submitted our application. That was about four months ago and it has been quite a journey since!
Gone was our privacy (to DYFS). Gone were our Saturdays for a month. We understood that there would be extensive research into our lives by DYFS but were still taken aback by the process. We filled out pages and pages of questions on everything from our parents’ parenting styles to our sexual compatibility with each other. We were interviewed together and separately. Our neighbors and selected friends were contacted as references, our income and employment was verified as were our medical, tax and automobile records (current license, registration and insurance for both vehicles). Every Saturday during the month of October we sat in a PRIDE (Parent Resources for Information, Development and Education) class from 9:00am to 4:00pm. When we got home, we spent those evenings reviewing the slew of reading materials we were given.
Class was intense. At times it was difficult emotionally, but all in all it was informative. The instructor didn’t beat around the bush or paint a pretty picture of what we were getting ourselves into. The information honest and sprinkled within were feel-good, true stories. I think that PRIDE is done to ensure that foster and adoptive prospective parents don’t assume it’s going to be all roses and fun times when a child is placed with them. If one can make it through PRIDE then they should be mentally prepared to deal with what comes with the territory of taking in a child who is not their own; a child who has most likely suffered some sort of physical abuse, sexual abuse, neglect, abandonment, emotional mistreatment, or a child whose parents may be unable to care for them because of their own disabilities, illness, or death, or because they are overwhelmed with the child’s special needs. Poverty, homelessness, HIV infection, or alcohol and other drug abuse are also frequent factors. These children may be a “child” chronologically speaking, but some of them have had more life experience than we, adults, have had. I felt like I’d just taken a crash course in psychology and child development 101. It’s funny how one has to go through this process to foster and adopt through the state, but there is no requirement to learn anything about parenting before getting pregnant.
There was some doubt in my mind every now and then while sitting in class, but I stuck with it. We stuck with it. Eventually the classes became a source of support as there were several other couples and a single person enrolled. Our instructor was personable and answered every one of our questions to the best of her ability. There was no weirdness from anyone about a lesbian couple being in the group and we felt comfortable. There were videos, written exercises, presentations, role playing sessions and Q&A sessions. The entire experience was beneficial as it changed the lens through which I used to look at foster care, the children in the system, and biological parents who have had their children taken away etc. I am more compassionate. I am more considerate. I am more thoughtful. I have always prided myself on not being judgmental, but feel even more equipped to being understanding of different situations than I may have been before. Things happen for a variety of reasons and people, children and adults alike, need help sometimes. They need help even when they don’t realize they do and are refusing it.
During the moments when I began to second guess this path to parenthood I stopped to think about the children, not myself. There are so many children who need help. These kids are right here, in our neighborhoods. A greater number of them are African-American. They need help. They need adults to be a little self-less, to open their heart ant their homes to them. They need people who are going to understand that they have issues, but they are important. They may be afraid, scared, angry and or sad, and need help to sort through all of the emotions they are experience. It’s not easy for them and won’t be easy for you, but it should be the duty of all of us who are able to assist to at least try. Consider the option. These are our children. They may not be ours biologically, but they are going to be in our lives one way or another. If no one takes them there may be on a corner, in an alley, in jail or dead. We need them to survive, to thrive. Whenever I become afraid of what may lie ahead, I think of how changing one life can lead to a generation of better lives. Helping one child may be more contributive to society than we could ever imagine for who knows what that child may blossom into if given the love, continuity and sense of worth.
With all of that being said, I still may not rule out becoming pregnant. I may do that in addition to adopting a child through DYFS or instead of adopting. I may love fostering even with its challenges and decide to foster on an ongoing basis rather than just stop after one adoption. I won’t know until we begin getting placements. One thing is for certain and that is that I want to try this route first and give it my best effort for success. It is important for me to make an attempt to help foster a child into a self-sufficient adult. It is important to me to try and get at least one black child out of the child welfare system and into a loving home because again, changing one life could change an entire generation. There are too many children, particularly African-American children, who are abandoned, too many who are neglected, and too many who don’t have enough people considering them. Consider them. As intrusive as the state can be, it does offer assistance. It varies from state to state, but there are various types of assistance available to foster parents to help them deal with the changes that come with fostering. You can set the parameters for the type of child you think you can handle and receive help in getting them acclimated to your home whether it’s for 30 days, six months or a “forever family” situation. In the state of New Jersey, a child adopted through DYFS automatically gets tuition assistance for college. While being fostered in your home their medical expenses are covered and the state provides monetary assistance for childcare services, food and clothing. Counseling is also available. As the foster parent, you can be as involved or not involved with the child’s biological family as you want to be. You can pass things like report cards and school pictures along via the social worker if you don’t want to deal with them or you can actually meet them. It is up to you and the social worker to decide what level of interaction is best for you and the child. At the end of the day, everything that is done should be done in the best interest of the child and reunification with the birth family is the primary goal. Often times, however, that does not happen and in those instances the child needs someone who will step up and care for them. They need help. I want to help them and encourage others to think about doing the same. You could save a life. You could save a generation.
Cheril N. Clarke is the author of five novels including Losing Control (2009) and one play, Intimate Chaos. She has been featured in Curve magazine, the nation’s best selling lesbian magazine, Burlington County Times, Phillyburbs.com, Out IN Jersey magazine, About.com, The Princeton Packet, Philadelphia Gay News (PGN), Clik Magazine, EURweb, 247Gay.com, Femmenoir.net as well as Crain’s New York Business newspaper. Her editorial work has been published in About magazine, GayWired.com, and on 247gay.com. Visit her online at www.cherilnclarke.com.
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Shelter will premiere in theaters in March 2008, launching in 10 markets across the country. Shelter will premiere exclusively on 
Seeing the world through someone else’s eyes is what has always drawn me to cinema. It makes me realize that no matter how different we may seem, we are all essentially the same. Although situations may differ, most of our desires are quite universal. We do things for many of the same reasons, often with similar results. I wanted Shelter to be a story that anyone could relate to – a story about tuning into one’s sincere desires, finding love, and creating family.
