My Forming, a Literacy Narrative

For this project, I had to write about a situation that negatively affected my education. I decided to write about my journey through foster care, how it put me behind educationally, and how I overcame that obstacle. I hope you enjoy it.

The Forming

I never thought I would be allowing a stranger to hug me. Honestly, at that moment, it was almost comforting. I thought to myself, I am a foster kid now. I better get used to strange places and even worse, strange people.

That first night I remember laying in my beat-up twin-size bed. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought my tears were made of lava. They came back to back and felt as if they were sizzling my skin. It was the beginning of September and still hadn't cooled off. There was no air flowing through the vent and the room was still. If you looked closely in the air you could see white dog hair floating. I've always hated animal hair; it makes me itch. I was left all alone with nothing but my thoughts. My worst fear had come true. I was separated from my brother and sister. These thoughts that raced through my mind, were intruded by nothing, but demons themselves. I was certain that I had nothing else to live for.

I woke up to the lightest touch on my ankle. “Candle, honey, would you please get up?”

“Yes ma’am I'm up”, I said in a similar tone.

What a hilarious surprise, no breakfast. They take me into the system for being neglected and I can't even get a nice meal. My foster mom continued to talk to me for a while. She explained the family dynamics and the house rules. While looking at her, I examined each of her features. Her hair is scraggily and dry. If I looked at her teeth too long, it was hard to fight the urge to puke. They were yellow and awkwardly small. This reminded me I needed a toothbrush. I forgot mine at home, and this is not my home.

I spent most of my time with my foster sisters. Angel and Josie helped take my mind off my siblings. With them being younger than me, I felt much pain for them. The raw truth was, we had all been let down by the people who were supposed to be our protectors. I colored with Angel a lot. She often vented to me about our foster mom. She was certainly right, Miss Tasha was very confrontational. I didn’t know that for myself yet, but soon I would. I would have never guessed I would be questioning my freedom over choking her out.

My caseworker had talked to North Little Rock School Board. They agreed to let me go back to public school. I was previously attending Argenta, an alternative school. I'm sure she told them my sad story and they felt awkwardly obligated. The last grade I had completed was the eighth. I was too busy raising my infant brother to go back. My classmates always picked on me because I failed to grasp the material. At that time, I agreed with them, I am stupid. This always got me into trouble. When they said cruel things to me it sparked that insecurity within myself. I had no way of dealing with it other than physical aggression. Knowing I was on probation and going back to public school, worried me. I knew I would soon be sporting a dingy, orange jumpsuit, while sitting behind bars.

My first day at Jacksonville High School was surprisingly okay. Although, it was truly awkward walking past people my mother and I had previously jumped. I knew deep down I would not be successful, yet another time. Attending school and making good grades were a part of my probation. I tried for a while and I was able to make pretty good grades. That wasn’t enough to keep me motivated though. I wanted a change and a new life.

I was granted visitation with my siblings every Tuesday. Those visits meant the world to me. I still wasn’t sure why we were separated to begin with. I felt as though I had lost a child. Honestly, I was the one who raised him his whole life. I struggled with depression and started smoking marijuana to cope. I also started abusing prescription medication and self-harming. Looking back, I wish I would have asked for help. I gave up on school, my grades surely showed it. I was lost and weak, I decided to run away.

Against my very poorly planned escape, I got caught. I went to jail due to violation of my probation. Jail was a very filthy, cold place. Like most people, I swore up and down I was going to change my life. It’s the malnutrition that makes us delusional. School was the only thing I had to look forward to. My judge went against my probation officer's recommendation and released me. I promised to go to school and do well. The grades I made while incarcerated, would even transfer to my real school. I had so many people on my side, yet, that wasn’t enough. I would be back in that jailhouse soon enough.

I found myself in jail for a third time. This time, I had physically assaulted my foster mom. We got into an argument and she brought up my deceased grandmother. I completely lost it, I choked her. I began to see change and growth within myself. I knew I didn’t want to be anything like my mother. I wanted a career, children, and most of all, a family. My probation officer recommended 9 months. I'll be the first to admit, I was scared as hell. The judge decided, my problems were caused by something deeper. He sent me to a therapeutic group home. I've never been a fan of older bald guys, but this one, I loved.

The facility gave me the structure I so desperately needed. If only we could fix our eyes to see what we need, instead of what we want. I didn’t know it then, but this would be the place that helped me accomplish a great achievement. It was a warm, safe place. In August of 2016, I started school at Joe T. Robinson. This was the school in which I attended, until I could take my GED classes. My probation officer informed me that once I received my GED, I would be taken off probation. I was determined, and I was motivated.

At the beginning of my GED classes, I was an anxious wreck. I had this constant voice in my head, telling me I was too dumb. It seemed like anything that could possibly distract me, did just that. The room appeared to be taken out of an old movie. Dust covered most of the book shelves, in thick coats. I learned many things in that room. I spent countless, late nights, up studying. I can even remember crying out of frustration. After about four months, I had received my GED. I finally felt important and most of all, I felt joy.

I immediately applied for UALR. In January I moved into the dorms. Having no friends was a good thing, it kept me from having distractions. My college life had begun, and I loved it. I felt like an adult, it was so nice not to have DHS on my back. My classes were going well, I maintained good attendance. Spring break rolled around and I planned to stay with my boyfriend. After having dreamed I was pregnant, I decided to take a pregnancy test. I was aware my body was changing, but not making a human. The test showed two bold lines within seconds. The world around me paused and all I could do was cry. Raymond and I decided as a couple, we wanted our baby.

I knew I had to prove I was fit to keep my baby. I got two jobs and quit school. Of course, it saddened me to give up my dream, but I had to. Proving I was financially stable was just a little piece of showing DHS I was fit to be a mother. I moved into a group home for foster children and continued working. Although the people were very nice, I hardly ever saw them. Open Arms shelter was a very clean and colorful place. At around six months pregnant I had to stop working. Work had become too much on my body, luckily, I was happy with my savings. During my free time, I met Miss Angie and Mr. Gary. They became my mentors and would soon become my very own parents.

After spending much time with them and their family, we all fell in love with each other. Just one month before I was due to give birth, they asked me to become a part of their family. Of course, I said yes. I loved them both and had very much respect for them. My parents helped me through my forty-two-hour labor. Miss Angie helped me so much during those first few weeks of Samantha’s life. I decided I wanted to go back to college. Although, my baby was only two months old, I did it. They encouraged me and offered me support in so many ways.

It is now 2018, I am currently enrolled in my second semester. We may not share the same DNA, but we are family. I am inexplicably grateful for everything my parents have done for me. By receiving an education, I am assured that, my daughter will have a stable and happy life.