Sunday The girl I have in placement is suffering from chronic low self-esteem and in her worst moments crumples on the floor in a heap, which is very distressing to see. Today I spend three hours in the garden talking to her, going over everything she thinks about herself and disproving it. There are tears and snot everywhere. This used to happen three or four times a day, but now it’s just twice a week. Since being with me for almost a year, her school attendance has gone up from 50% to 100%, and doing better academically has raised her self-esteem. Monday I spend the morning comforting another foster care worker who is concerned for the wellbeing of two children who were recently taken out of her care. She took them to see their family and then got a call saying they weren’t coming back to her again. She tells me she asked the social worker how they would cope without their belongings, which had all been left at her house, and the social worker replied that she hadn’t really thought about it. Tuesday I help another foster carer bleach marks made by a permanent marker off her bathroom walls. My placement is in tears when I pick her up from school, so I spend most of the evening trying to help her deal with some very complex trauma. I get a call late at night from the local authority saying there is a teenager who has beaten up members of his family and they have refused to let him stay at home tonight. I wait for them to bring him to my house but I get a call a few hours later saying he has refused to go into foster care. Wednesday I meet up with a support group for foster care workers that we have set up. We all feel unsupported by our local authority. They don’t pick up the phone, so we can’t get hold of our support workers when we need them. When we do get to speak to someone, they are often young and inexperienced, and have not had the adequate training. I don’t blame the people who work in local authorities, they have suffered huge cuts. Because of this we are, for the most part, alone with children who have complex needs. Thursday I’m so tired. A boy was dropped off at my house at 1am. He arrived with absolutely nothing so after tucking him in, I went to the 24-hour supermarket to buy him a school uniform. He wakes up at 5am wanting to put the TV on. I give him a long wash as it’s obvious he hasn’t had a shower or bath for some time. As I arrive with him at the school gates, friends of his parents shout abuse at me. One of the mothers screams in my face, telling me that the child was safe with his father. As I walk back to my car, they hurl insults at me. I arrange to pick him up slightly earlier from school, so he doesn’t witness that abuse. I’m used to the insults, it’s something you learn to cope with. Friday My new foster child slept well last night, so I did as well. Children are little sponges and soak up their new environment – he wants to know and do everything. This is the really rewarding part of my job: taking in children who are hungry and neglected, cleaning them up, buying them uniforms and sending them to school happy. Seeing him smiling this morning makes it all worth it. Source: www.theguardian.com Comments are closed.
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