By Angela Velez as told to Jane Bianchi
I’ve never
met my dad, and until last year, I lived with my mom in a small apartment in
New York City, where she wouldn’t let me see my older sisters, who lived on
their own nearby -- or even go on the Internet. My mom forced me to sit there
with her all day, but whenever I tried to talk to her, she’d just stare at the
TV and say, “I’m too tired to talk.” My friends’ moms weren’t like that -- they
talked to their kids -- so I knew something wasn’t right. I felt so isolated
and sad.
As the
years went on, life at home got worse. If I forgot to do something, like the
dishes, my mom would curse at me in Spanish. Her bad attitude wore me down. So
finally, one day in middle school, I got so fed up that I yelled back: “You don’t
care about me!” As soon as the words came out, my mom started hitting me, and
even though I asked her to stop, she just said, “Shut up! I'm not hurting you.”
I felt a sharp pain in my leg, though, and when I looked down, there were cuts
from where her nails had dug into my skin. I couldn’t believe my own mother
could be so cruel.
Still, I
never told anyone -- mostly because I was terrified of her. But last year, when
I was hanging at a friend's on a Friday night, her mom saw I was upset and
asked what was wrong. That’s when everything I was going through just came
pouring out.
My friend's
mom was so troubled by what she heard that she called Child Protective Services
(CPS), a governmental organization that helps kids who are being abused or
neglected. CPS deemed my mom unfit to be a parent and put me in a group home. I
was thankful to be free from my mom, but I also felt scared and alone, like a
misfit nobody wanted.
In the
group home, I learned about foster care. Foster parents are people who become
certified to temporarily care for kids who need a home. Sometimes foster care
kids go back to their birth parents, sometimes they get adopted, and sometimes
they stay in foster care until they can live on their own.
After I
found out that I was going to foster care, part of me was relieved, but part of
me thought, “What’s going to happen to me now?” I wasn't sure if foster care
would be better -- or worse.
TAKING THE PLUNGE
My first
foster care experience was definitely worse, or at least just as bad. When I walked
in, the house smelled, and even though I brought eight bags full of clothes and
books with me, nothing made it feel like home. The woman who answered the door
didn’t hug me and barely talked. I felt trapped all over again.
Luckily,
though, I got to leave within a few days, and walking into my second foster
care home was a much different experience. These foster parents, Sandra and
Henry, put their arms on my shoulders in a gentle way to show me that they
cared. They then let me settle into my bedroom, and -- when I was ready --
cooked me dinner.
Now, about nine months later, Sandra and Henry are the parents I always wanted. They allow me to see my sisters, let me use the Internet, and help me with homework -- things my mom never did. And on my 17th birthday, Sandra took me out to a nice dinner. Believe it or not, no one had ever celebrated my birthday before. For the first time in my whole life, I felt happy.
Now, about nine months later, Sandra and Henry are the parents I always wanted. They allow me to see my sisters, let me use the Internet, and help me with homework -- things my mom never did. And on my 17th birthday, Sandra took me out to a nice dinner. Believe it or not, no one had ever celebrated my birthday before. For the first time in my whole life, I felt happy.
HELPING HANDS
Once I
started living with Sandra and Henry, CPS hooked me up with a therapist. It’s
helpful to discuss my problems, and she always boosts my confidence. She’ll
say, “Dude, you're awesome.” After growing up around so much negativity, it
feels great to be around positive people!
I’ve also
been spending a lot more time with my best friend, Eric. He's like my brother.
When I’m feeling down, he’ll say, “Ang, c’mon. You can do this.”
And you
know, with all this support behind me, I’ve been thinking a lot about what
“family” really means. A lot of people think it means a biological mom, dad,
and siblings. But to me, family means people who love me and help me. It
doesn’t matter if you’re blood-related; family can be anyone. When I look at my
foster parents, I see that my life is finally moving in the right direction --
and that makes me smile.
One thing
Sandra, Henry, and my sisters do now is ask me how I'm doing. Nobody had ever
asked me that before! It’s such a simple question, but it feels so good when
someone is concerned enough to ask. It has inspired me to ask other kids at
school how they’re doing.
Because if
there's one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can't just say that you care, you
have to prove it -- and show that you care.
3 THINGS ANGELA WILL WANT YOU TO KNOW
1. Never
give up. No matter what you’re going through -- even when you think you’re at
your lowest point -- things will get better. It’s important to stay optimistic.
2. Don't
hate. If you meet kids in foster care, don’t call them names. That’s not cool.
Foster kids are the same as any other kids. There’s no reason to knock them
down.
3. Speak
up. If you or someone you know has a hard home life, don’t suffer in silence.
Tell an adult, like a friend’s parent or a school social worker or
psychologist. The sooner you reach out, the sooner you can get help.
CONCLUDING NOTE
God can use you to change the story of someone somewhere. I pray you will be available to help wipe away some tears. It will yield eternal dividend. There are many Angelas across the nations and I can hear God say whom shall I send and where are the willing hands to put an end to the pains of the innocent victims of child abuse!
CONCLUDING NOTE
God can use you to change the story of someone somewhere. I pray you will be available to help wipe away some tears. It will yield eternal dividend. There are many Angelas across the nations and I can hear God say whom shall I send and where are the willing hands to put an end to the pains of the innocent victims of child abuse!