It was May 13th, 1977 when we took our road trip to Poplar,WI. I was only six and a half years old then. Road trips are always exciting but this one felt different somehow. We were going to visit someone from what I understood but I wasn't exactly sure why our mother wasn't with us. The only thing I was sure of was I had my hard pink suitcase that carried all my little belongings. We eventually arrived at a quaint little A-Frame house with a large St. Bernard. The family seemed really nice and very happy to see us. Before I knew it, the car that had brought us to the house backed out of the driveway, and left us behind. They never did come back for us, and nobody ever brought our mom. Once I was old enough to understand I learned that the house we were brought to was called a Foster Home.

Foster care: A system in which a minor has been placed into a ward, group home, or private home of a state-certified caregiver, referred to as a "foster parent". The placement of the child is normally arranged through the government or a social service agency. The institution, group home or foster parent is compensated for expenses.

Foster care started as a result of the efforts of Charles Loring Brace.

Brace believed the children would do best with a Christian farm family. He did this to save them from "a lifetime of suffering" *Nordmark, Oliver. "Orphan Train History." : REVEREND CHARLES LORING BRACE. N.p., 09 Feb. 2010. Web. 19 Oct. 2013.

We lived in this Foster Home for a couple years while we waited for our mother to come for us.This is something that never happened. They told us that she showed no real interest in getting us back with her so they ruled our case as Abandonment. We were eventually put on a list for Adoption. At age six I never even knew there were differences between us and the family that we lived with. I wasn't even aware until I was Adopted that I was "Native American". I just thought I was a kid, like everyone else. I realized later on just how wrong I was.

Transracial Adoption: Placing a child of one racial or ethnic group with adoptive parents of another racial or ethnic group.

When you adopt a baby, do you take on responsibility for fostering the child's connection to the culture or cultures of origin your baby leaves behind to join your family? Or do you just try to integrate that child into your own family's lifestyle and culture? Having been born part Native American I should have been privy to my family's history and culture. Instead I was raised in a Lutheran household with parents that were from Finnish and German descent. Never the wiser that I had lost a lifetime of culture because of my Adoption. I came from a proud nation of Chippewa Indians. I learned about my family and culture on the internet. I was the poor little Indian in a white person's world. I am not necessarily Anti Adoption, but I am most definitely Pro Education. I believe in the preservation of culture. I am not against Transracial Adoption if culture and heritage is taught and preserved. I have been angry all of my life because I know nothing of my family or culture except for what I find on Google. Forty years of culture lost even after the The Indian Child Welfare Act of 1978 (ICWA) was established. Even after 1978, Native American children were placed in Non Native homes.

So to recap, In 1977 I went on a road trip, and that's where I lost my ID.

Kelly Kasper ~Blake (2017)
 
I Walk mindless, Carrying Depression in my backpack

Holding Anxiety in my pockets, RAD socks on my feet

I Wear a BiPolar Blazer to cover my Alcoholic body

Tongue pierced with Anger, Lips pierced with Fear

PTSD colored eyes wearing Rose colored glasses

-Kasper (kelly blake)
 
 Growing up I never would have imagined taking the paths that I have. Native American by birth but Raised White. As a young Adult I went outside that White Box and dated only Black Men, which gave me three beautiful Bi-Racial children. The first two were born in Detroit in the Nineties when the city was still predominately Black. I was called Oreo and Cracker while simply walking down the street with my daughter's father. Even the Grandmother of my daughter thought that her son could do better, often stating that a Black woman has the same thing I have (referring to my lady parts) When I walked down the street alone I kept my head down because I was a white skinned woman walking alone, and because of that I was taunted and bullied if I didn't respond to acknowledgements, often being told that I thought I was better than they were because I was a white woman. I can promise this was never the case. I always gravitated to Black people because I felt I could understand some of their pain, anger and feelings of basic isolation from society because I always felt like an outcast all of my life. I never fit into the cheerleader or jock mold that that society tried to cram down my throat. Now that I'm older I'm glad that I never fit into those stereotypes. Many years down the road of life that same Bi-Racial daughter came to me and told me she was gay. I'm a free thinker so that is something that never bothered me. I always taught my kids to stand up for what they believed in and to always be who they are. I guess I should have seen the signs, but at the time she had a boyfriend. So now, not only do I have Bi-Racial children, one of them is openly gay. A lot of her cousins are also, so no one batted an eye, but the rest of the world always seemed to give us that judgmental look. Now life has done quite the boomerang and my kids have a white step father and we have never been happier. But I still see the looks on people's faces, especially when he tells people they are his kids. Prejudice has no rhyme or reason and it affects everyone. I don't get angry about the looks and comments but it does make me shake my head. Society has definitely let me down. I fight prejudice on all fronts simply because of my choices as a young person.
 
For as long as I can remember, I was angry. I was angry that my mother did stupid shit and went to prison. I was angry that we went to a foster home, and they couldn't keep us. I was angry that we were adopted to a Bible thumping fat psycho of a cow. I've been abused  mentally, physically and sexually most of my adult life. I blamed my mother for my angry feelings. I Finally realized, through lots of trial and error with my own children that my life is based on what choices I make. My mother messed up and made poor choices and a few of those choices could have resulted in my death as a toddler, but then I realized that after her, I made my own choices, and I had to be accountable for MY own choices.

Am I saying that her choices didn't hurt? Do you hear me saying "It's ok"

no... but what I do say is that I don't have time to be angry and spiteful anymore. Forgiveness is not about the other person, it's about yourself, and your own mental health.

I have been mentally fucked up all my life, and that probably won't ever change, but it goes way beyond my biological mother...

it includes the choices I made for myself. I have worked hard at stopping the blame game. I tell my kids all the time that after they grew up they had the ability and knowledge to make their own choices.

That's what made me realize that my biological mother didn't ruin my life.... MY CHOICES ruined my life.
 
For as long as I can remember, I was angry. I was angry that my mother did stupid shit and went to prison. I was angry that we went to a foster home, and they couldn't keep us. I was angry that we were adopted to a Bible thumping fat psycho of a cow. I've been abused  mentally, physically and sexually most of my adult life. I blamed my mother for my angry feelings. I Finally realized, through lots of trial and error with my own children that my life is based on what choices I make. My mother messed up and made poor choices and a few of those choices could have resulted in my death as a toddler, but then I realized that after her, I made my own choices, and I had to be accountable for MY own choices.

Am I saying that her choices didn't hurt? Do you hear me saying "It's ok"

no... but what I do say is that I don't have time to be angry and spiteful anymore. Forgiveness is not about the other person, it's about yourself, and your own mental health.

I have been mentally fucked up all my life, and that probably won't ever change, but it goes way beyond my biological mother...

it includes the choices I made for myself. I have worked hard at stopping the blame game. I tell my kids all the time that after they grew up they had the ability and knowledge to make their own choices.

That's what made me realize that my biological mother didn't ruin my life.... MY CHOICES ruined my life.
 
I've always been aware of the scar on my face and the burn scar on my finger tip. I never really knew how it happened but I remember telling people a story about how I was "trying to see if the stove was hot" It never made sense to me why I would have done that with MY FACE. Memories are strange.

During a Fire Drill many years ago I was called Phantom of the Opera, and Scarface. Apparently a quick change in temperature had caused the scar tissue on my face to turn white. I was never really aware of how large the area was.

Recently I have been in contact with my Mother. I had asked her why I was on Anti Seizure medicine and figured I would also ask why I had a burn scar on my face. She told me she remembered that day very well. She was still asleep when my older sister woke her up screaming that I was on fire.

I had taken my mother's lighter, rolled up a piece of paper and lit it. My face and hair was on fire and she told me she smacked it out with her hands. The doctor told her I would heal with minimal scars.
So now I look closer at my face, and I see the slight abnormality in my upper lip.

Mother said it was a wake up call for her, but admits the wake up call only lasted a short time. Alcohol and Pills were her downfall. Even my face burning wasn't enough to change her behavior. Now here I am, 45 years old dealing with my emotional scars all over again.

I openly speak about my past now because it helps me move on, and I hope that someone might read about my situation and it might just save a child from going through what I went through. You might think I would be angry, but i'm not. A little shell shocked, but anger will get me nowhere.

I think back to the times when my kids were little, my daughter loved lighting things on fire. I would come home to burn marks on the counters and burns in the carpets.It got to the point where I had to hide every lighter and match from her. No, I wasn't asleep or drunk, she would do this while I was working.

Tragic things can happen in just moments. Things we never thought would happen, we never meant for it to happen ..and things we wish we could take back. Intentional or unintentional, neglect is something that happens on a daily basis in many homes. It is often overlooked and brushed off as no big deal.

So if you know me personally and you say I "freak out" about little things, try to remember I came from a very bad place and I never learned to properly cope. My physical scars are minor, but my emotional scars are deep. I was only a Toddler when I was burned.

Memories are strange, and our minds very often create alternate endings because it is how we protect ourselves. But if you are a parent, myself included, we need to be aware of our actions and aware that children DO remember. Make this world great again. It starts with the children.
 
First little Indian given away at birth


Struggles all her life to find her worth


Resents little Indains three four and five


But they didn't even know she was alive


The sixth little Indian was always so sad




Because  mother was always drunk and mad


the second little Indian was unknown until now


I'd like to find her but i don't know how.











 
I am your best friend, your wife and your confidant.
I support you, I love you and I care for you.
With my help and support you are able to live your life.
With your guidance and support I am able to live mine.
I am your caretaker and you are my champion.
I never realized my true strength, until I witnessed yours.
There will never be me without you, or you without me.
I don't have wings and you have no cape,
But we are heroes to each other.
Always you and always me,
But always you before it's me
 
Your writhing body

Propelling into darkness

The empty chasm

Fills with tears falling

Into the nothingness

Where are you? 

I struggle to find you

I know you're there

Why can't i see you?

The sadness consumes me

Constricting my heart

The suffocation

IT HURTS...........

 
"Thoughtful"
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