A tinier-than-most five-year-old raced toward me across the playground, her mop of redhead curls bouncing off her freckled face. “My name is Hope and you’re my CASA, right?” Where are you going to take me today? Can you find a family for me? When I get mad, I bite people, you know….” So began my adventure with Hope, in every sense of the word.

Bright little Hope had been abandoned by her parents when she was a toddler, dropped off at a relative’s home who was soon reported to authorities for physically and emotionally abusing the three-year-old who bore the scars to prove it. By the time she was five she had lived in more than one group home and had experienced two failed placements in foster homes. In her words: “They brought me back.” She was angry, scared and convinced no one wanted her. Her answer to survival as the youngest and smallest child in a large group home facility was to fight back any way she could. And she did.

Hope was a very bright, curious and precocious child but did not know how to get along with other children in kindergarten. As her CASA, I located a school with a trained staff that could better deal with her behavior problems and give her the attention she desperately needed. She loved to learn and couldn’t wait to read.

My main priority as her advocate was to see that she was never again given a false promise by another family and that a permanent family be found for her. Every time I heard the words “unadoptable at this time,” I redoubled my efforts as her voice in court. With a change in social workers three times, I started over three times, working closely with Hope’s therapist and her court-appointed attorney. During this time, Hope and I learned to ride a pink two-wheeler, to fly a kite, to visit bookstores and go to children’s plays, and to chase seagulls on the beach until we collapsed in laughter.

When Hope was seven, her dream started to take shape. A single woman expressed the desire to adopt her, having taken special foster parent training to help Hope deal with her fears and cope with adjusting to this potential new home and family. My visits with Hope from that point forward were filled with her excitement about having her own bedroom and a puppy. It wasn’t an instant adjustment, but she gradually began to realize that she was loved and wanted. Hope began to connect with her new mom and the adoption was finalized.

When Hope celebrated her 10th birthday in her new home in the Midwest, she was attending a regular public school and phoned me to announce: “Guess what? I got straight A’s and three special awards.” Yes! That’s what Hope is all about.

Sometime I’m asked what keeps CASA advocates from getting discouraged, even depressed, and then giving up. For me it’s just remembering the story of Hope…. and children like her who have found supportive, loving families to include them. And perhaps the power of persistence should also get some credit….

Please check out the National CASA Web site at www.casaforchildren.org for information on volunteer opportunities in your community. There is a child or teenager hoping right now for someone to count on.

Until next time…

The other day I saw a T-shirt that carried the message:  "Nothing you do for children is ever wasted." * A few days later, I was sitting on the grass in a park with a precious little 4-year-old girl. She was painting my fingernails -- something I don't do very often, if at all.  What's more, she decided that blue was "my color" so she very patiently and precisely painted my nails a bright, sky blue.

We laughed, we played "let's pretend", she made up jokes, I made up songs, and we waved our hands in the afternoon breeze to dry our colorful nails. (Hers were pink, her favorite "princess color".)  Next, we dug into my bag to find what must be the most inexpensive and magical play toy invented: bubbles! Magic Bubbles! Blowing bubbles and watching how far and high they fly has become one of our favorite pastimes in the four months we have been hanging out together. I think it was our shared love of blowing bubbles that served to connect us the first day we met.

This little girl, just a few months away from starting kindergarten, was removed from her parents' custody when she was a toddler. The courts determined that her parents were unable to safely care for her or her brothers and baby sister. "Failure to protect" is how the official court records read. Like many stories told by kids taken from their homes, hers is a heartbreaking one, and being raised in "the system" presents new challenges she is too young to understand yet.

As her CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate), my job is to be another set of eyes and ears to be sure she is getting the attention and services she deserves, while in the care of our social services system. CASA advocates serve as a child's voice in court when decisions are made about their welfare. We spend several hours a month with our " CASA kids" and often get to know them better than their social workers, who, in many counties, are required to make only one visit a month to each child. It's our job to support the positive things going on in their foster placement and also to spot any red flags that indicate they may be slipping through the cracks in a much overburdened system. The news is full of tragic incidents that likely could have been prevented if someone had been advocating for a foster child -- if just one person had been listening and watching.

As I've said before, it's often what seems like little things that can turn out to be significant in a child's life. While spending a few hours one on one with this little girl on a Sunday afternoon, I realized she seldom has anyone's undivided attention. That's just about impossible in her current foster home. When I was assigned to her, I was told she was very shy, and there would likely be a lot of time spent when she wouldn't talk. Well, that hasn't happened yet (except it IS hard to talk when you are blowing bubbles!)

A permanent, caring family is where every child belongs. But if that hasn't happened, every child still deserves to be treated as special -- to feel he or she is important. Kids who have been abused, neglected or abandoned haven't had that feeling very often -- sometimes never.  Yep, that T-shirt said it well. Nothing you do for children is ever wasted, even if we may not see any far reaching results at the moment. In the time that you might spend having a manicure (or that you guys might spend watching a basketball game), you can make a child feel important! I'm learning it's as simple as that. And, it IS important!

Until next time ...

For information on the CASA program in your county or city and how you can become a trained volunteer advocate, check out the national website: casaforchildren.org

*from Leaving Home by Garrison Keillor

Once in awhile someone asks me how in the world we can really make a difference in the life of a child who has suffered years of abuse or neglect.  What can one person possibly do, especially if a child has been removed from all he or she knows about "family" and is taken to a group home or a foster home that is totally unfamiliar in so many ways. Often a child suddenly finds herself in a new school, in a home where the food is nothing like she has ever eaten before, sharing a room with another child who usually has also been removed from her home and is just as uncomfortable and confused.  No matter how much people are trying to help, the foster child has a new name...."foster child"...whatever that may mean to them, a label that carries all kinds of meanings to people they encounter.

Yep....it is easy to get overwhelmed by the big picture and the horrible statistics of the challenges ahead for kids growing up in "the system."  But whenever I talk to a youngster who has been in foster care and had a CASA assigned to them (Court Appointed Special Advocate) I'm always encouraged by what they say.  Simply:  it's the little things that can make a big difference, although we may not know it at the time.

A memory:  I was standing in a juice shop with 14-year-old Amber, whom I'd known for about four months and had spent time with for a few hours every week as her CASA. When I asked her what she would like to drink, looking up at the menu on the wall, she answered, "I don't know...I can't read it." Whoa! What was going on here?  I already knew this girl was an avid reader, an excellent student, who was teaching herself algebra in a group home where they didn't have a trained math teacher in the on-site school. Amber had been reading since she 3 years old, I had learned. Books, in fact, were her "best friends" she had told me....the place she had retreated to for years in her extremely abusive childhood. (She would later graduate from high school with a full four-year scholarship to a prestigious private university!) So what was with this "I can't read it"?

Well....unknown to me, Amber wore glasses for distance vision. Hers were broken and had not been replaced during the last several months. "I just sit right in front of the blackboard," she told me. "Then I can see pretty well."

Within hours, I was on the phone trying to understand why someone had not noticed this and taken the steps to replace Amber's glasses. I won't go into detail with how many people I had to talk to before I would learn that she "wasn't due for an eye exam for another four months," so they were waiting to get the glasses replaced then!  Yes.....almost a year without her glasses didn't seem to be a problem to anyone I talked to.  (And in all fairness, kids in foster care often do not know who to ask or tell about these kinds of issues, so they don't even bother to bring it up.)  Flash forward: it took several more weeks, but she did get taken to an optometrist and eventually could see the blackboard again!
Incidents like this happen every day to kids in foster care....the same day-to-day issues that all kids face. The difference? They often go unnoticed, or worse, disregarded, by the adults in their life. So yes....one person like a CASA advocate can make a BIG difference in both little and big concerns that foster kids are dealing with.

Right this moment a high school senior is not planning to go to her school prom because there is no money assigned to her for a prom dress. A 10-year-old boy who loves sports doesn't sign up to play on a soccer team because he doesn't know who to ask to pay the uniform fee and just assumes he can't participate. A member of her high school choir doesn't get to go on a three-day field trip because it took too long for her social worker to apply for funds to pay her way. I've seen each of these situations in my own experience as a CASA.

Most of us can remember "little" things from our childhood that made a huge difference to us. And yes, one advocate paying attention to what's going on in the life of a child in foster care CAN make a BIG difference.

Think about what you could do in just two or three hours a week for a child who really needs someone to notice the little and big things that are going on in his life.....

Until next time...compliment a child today! It's gift that will keep on giving....

To find a CASA organization in your community, go to  casaforchildren.org

I just really wanted someone to talk to....

Recently I attended the opening of an apartment complex that had been converted to serve as transitional housing for youth coming out of foster care.  As I toured the facility and talked to a few kids who had just moved in, one young man approached me.  "Whose social worker are you?" he asked.  (An unfamiliar adult in this setting is usually an "official" of some kind.)  " Oh, no, I'm not a social worker", I answered, introducing myself.  "I'm a CASA, and...."  Before I could tell him I was there checking out the apartments for a girl who had no place to go when she graduated from high school in three weeks, this boy spoke again, very softly.  "I never got a CASA all the years when I was in group homes.  I don't think I was good enough to get one...."

Completely caught off guard by this HUGE misperception, I gained my composure and told him that sadly, there have never been enough CASA advocates for every child who wanted one...and NO, it had nothing to do with whether or not he was "good enough."  It was hard to keep looking at the disappointment written all over his face.  Then I gathered up enough courage to ask him a question:  "Why exactly did you want to have a CASA?"

"No big deal really.  I just really always wanted someone to talk to...."          

In case you don't know, in the world of foster care children, "emancipation" is the word most often used for the time when a teenager, usually 18, becomes legally responsible for him/herself and heads out into the world----very often without a real plan, or if there is a plan, no safety net (like a family!) to be there if the plan doesn't work out. To me, one of the saddest statistics is the huge number of former foster care kids in our country who end up homeless at some point in their lives, often quite soon after they have left "the system."  There is a huge need for programs to help these young people learn to successfully navigate their new independence, and helping them find housing is right at the top of the list.

CASA volunteers who advocate for teens play an incredibly important role ---friend, mentor, cheerleader----as the time for emancipation approaches.  Some kids are scared to death.  Others can't wait to "get out" but often have a very unrealistic picture of what it's going to be like to be responsible for themselves.  They ALL need someone to turn to during this time.  (Who doesn't?) 

Last week I spoke to a group of "almost" CASA advocates on the last day of their training program.  As I sat waiting to be called upon, I counted 43 volunteers.....from young adults to retirees....men and women from varying backgrounds and different communities within our county whom I'm sure have one common desire:  to advocate for a youngster in foster care who needs someone to count on.  And then I saw an amazing image:  43 kids taken off the long waiting list of children who need a CASA, each standing side by side with their new advocate.  Very soon, 86 people's lives will never be quite the same! 

Doesn't EVERY CHILD need someone to count on?  Just someone available to talk to?  Think about it......because it IS a big deal....really!   

Until next time....

(The National CASA website has lots of information about CASA and how to find a program in your state and community.  Check it out!  casaforchildren.org)

I answered my phone a few weeks ago and had no clue who this scratchy, adolescent-boy voice belonged to. "Hi, Miss Bonnie! It's me! "

Instant flashback! There's only one person I know who calls me "Miss Bonnie."  The first time I met little Jeffrey (now not so little!) he was living in a group home, barely 6 years old, separated from his two younger brothers and sister, having been removed from his home where the children had suffered severe physical and emotional abuse.  Jeffrey was the most frightened little boy I had ever encountered in my life.

We spent our early visits together in quiet walks in the park, not even venturing onto the playground equipment which he was terrified to do.  I remember lots of questions and lots of listening went on during our time together.  Though he had been deprived of going to any kind of pre-school or kindergarten and was behind in first grade, he was incredibly eager to learn and explore.  We shared lots of "firsts" together:  first trip to see a real train....just sitting in the station for hours waiting with anticipation to see the next train and wave to the people and the conductor; first day exploring the beach and tide pools; first time picking out a pumpkin for Halloween.  And soon he was brave enough to learn how to ride a scooter, with my help at first and shortly all by himself.  I would quickly see his amazing curiosity at work when he completely disassembled the scooter and then asked the group home staff for exactly the right tools so he could "repair it" because it was broken.

Jeffrey was eventually moved from the group home and placed with a foster family whose intent was to adopt him. But it wasn't long until a series of court appeals, hearings, changes in social workers and judges left him very confused as he began to adjust to a new home and family and at the same time was required to visit his father every week, someone who was still very frightening to him.  Having a CASA was just about the only thing Jeffrey could count on during this tough time, as no one could tell him what the future would bring. No one really knew.  As his Court Appointed Special Advocate, I worked closely with Jeffrey's foster parents, his teachers, therapists and social workers as we all tried to help him feel secure during a very unsettling time that lasted far too long.

Day by day he made progress in school and slowly began to learn how to trust.  Through CASA resources he was able to go to science camp for two summers where he thrived, building rockets and his own spaceship.  Our trips to the beach now included climbing huge rocks and running out on the pier to talk to the fishermen----something which had once petrified him.

Nearing his 9th birthday, he would ask over and over when he was going to be adopted by his new family where he said he wanted to live "for at least 40 years"!  In my reports to the court I again expressed Jeffrey's wishes---word for word---to the judge.  It wasn't long until Jeffrey's biological father relinquished his parental rights, acknowledging he was unable to provide a safe or secure home for his children, and allowing the adoption to take place.  Sitting in court, himself, for the very first time, in his little blue blazer and tie, wearing his new Harry Potter glasses, Jeffrey looked up at the judge after the adoption ceremony and announced, "You picked the very best parents in the world for me.  Thank you, Judge!"  Not a dry eye in the courtroom!

As I compare photos of 6 year old Jeffrey and 9 year old Jeffrey, the change in him was overwhelming.  Finding a secure and loving home for him before someone stamped his file "unadoptable" was life changing....for him and for his proud new parents .  (And yes, for me too...)

To be a part of such a happy ending and a new beginning, like this one, is one of the many rewards of being a CASA. Although far too many  kids remain in foster care until they are 18 years old and emancipate from "the system" (and they need our support every step of the way,) the goal of every CASA advocate is always to work toward finding a safe, loving, permanent home for every child, because every child deserves just that!

So....yes that was Jeffrey on the phone, now in the eighth grade and living with his new family in a new house in a new city in a new state.  A drawing he gave me years ago on my birthday, showing the two of us walking on the beach picking up shells, is still on my refrigerator door.....And Jeffrey...still in my heart.

(I'm getting questions on how to find out about CASA in your state and community.  Go to the National CASA website: http://www.casaforchildren.org. You can use your zip code to locate a CASA program near you.)

There is a child waiting right now for a  CASA!.... Think about it..... Until next time....

When I was invited to blog about my experiences as a CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate) for children in the foster care system, I confess that I started thinking about how much time it would take. Did I want to add to my current responsibilities and schedule? How many people would actually be reading this with all the other topics of interest on Dr. Phil’s Web site? On and on went that chatter of resistance.

And then I remembered the starfish …

You may have heard the story, but I don’t think it can be told too often so we don’t forget the message. One version of The Starfish Story* goes like this:

One day a man was walking along the beach when he noticed a boy picking something up and gently throwing it into the ocean. Approaching the boy, he asked “What are you doing?” The youth replied, “Throwing starfish back into the ocean. The sun is up, and the tide is going out. If I don’t throw them back, they will die.” “Son,” the man said, “don’t you realize there are miles of beach and hundreds of starfish? You can’t make a difference!”

After listening politely, the boy bent down, picked up another starfish, and threw it back into the surf. Then smiling at the man he said, “I made a difference for that one.”

So…here I am blogging…. with a not-so-very-hidden agenda. If by sharing my experiences as a CASA over the last 10 years might encourage even ONE person to contact their state or local CASA organization, who then trains to become a CASA for one child, I know “it will make a difference.” It will be a life-changing experience, without a doubt, for the child, and for the CASA advocate.

Where I live in California, we have a few hundred CASA volunteers assigned by the court to advocate for one child at a time, or sometimes for several children or teens from the same family. But sadly, at any given time in our local community there are at least two hundred kids on a waiting list who desperately need someone to be their voice in court, to be a mentor and a friend they can count on during some very rough times. And throughout the country are thousands of kids who are growing up in the system without an advocate who will devote time and attention to them through the challenges they face.

Of course, each child is unique and each story different, though always heartbreaking to hear. But a CASA soon discovers that these kids in the foster care system do have one thing in common for sure: they did nothing to deserve what has happened to them. Someone else did! Most of them don’t know what it is to trust, or to be around someone they can truly count on, or know what it feels like to have someone really listen to them. It is common for these kids to be uprooted again and again from foster home, to group home, to another foster home to yet another new school … over and over and over. I can’t count the number of times I’ve helped fill plastic trash bags (aka their “suitcases”), helping a kid get ready for a new foster placement, often with little lead time or explanation that they can understand for why they are moving. They have very little that is constant in their lives. That’s what a CASA is. Someone they can count on. Someone who shows up when they say they will. Someone a child might, and often does, learn to trust.

CASA advocates come in all ages and stages, from college students to great grandparents, busy full-time employees or retirees, single men and women or folks with families of their own. But the CASAs I have met seem to have one thing in common: you could probably find any one of them on some sandy beach gently tossing stranded starfish back into the ocean for another chance. They have discovered it takes very little to make a big difference in the life of a child, and they know the joy and reward that comes with this discovery.

Over the years, I have been an advocate for several teenage girls, doing what I could to help them get ready to “emancipate” -- the term used for the day these kids are removed from the foster care system and the financial support of their community’s social services. The day they must walk out into the world on their own, usually without any kind of safety net or fall-back option that most of us call “family.” I’ve also been a CASA to children who were removed from their homes as pre-schoolers and placed in a series of group homes and foster placements.

Although the training I received as a CASA was excellent, I’m never quite ready to learn about the abuse any child has suffered. But over time, having had a small part in finding loving, permanent homes for several children -- and having attended several adoption ceremonies -- a place called home and family is always my hope for every child in foster care.

Every day more than one child in the foster care system slips through the cracks, often with life-threatening consequences. Every one of them should have an advocate in their corner! So, next time I’ll tell you about Jeffrey, whom I met when he was just starting first grade - the most frightened child I’ve ever known. You will love him. It took me about five minutes!

One last thought: Smile at a child today, especially one who isn’t smiling. It will make a difference “to that one.” Until next time…

*adapted from the original story by Loren Eiseley, from The Star Thrower.