Personal Narrative: Foster Care

“If the government or those who are in power want to make the foster care system better, what they should do is just ask a foster kid. Talk to one of them. They can tell you exactly what they need. What they need is what most children and even teens need…Someone who cares about them, someone who will listen to them and hold them when they are scared. What they need is what any child needs…a family who loves them.” – Luis, a Foster Child… Every day, more and more children are placed in foster care, or they are like me, rather leaving or already out of foster care and wondering where their life is heading. The constant knowing that one day you may be moved somewhere else, is a scary one, and when you finally break free of that fear, and …show more content…
The front doors of the Court House in Georgia. I walked in and looked around at many people walking in grey and black suits. They looked miserable. My concept at that time, being 10, was that possibly they were hungry, or maybe just tired. At the same time though, although I was 10, I knew somehow it could not just be that. I also recall how cold it was in the building. White walls, marble floors, and too much air conditioning. I was getting goose bumps walking around. I hadn’t yet realized that the reason I was even in this weird cold place. That this place would determine my fate for the next many years. I and my sisters walked through this building with our foster care advisor towards a medium sized room far away from the front doors. The area we were in was quiet and there were no longer a lot of people. I suddenly felt like heading back to the main floor with all the miserable suited people, this felt too lonely, and for an odd reason unknown to me at the time, I had major butterflies in my …show more content…
To my surprise, I saw my mom and dad, and then my foster mom sitting on different sides of the room. I looked at all of them with smiles, happy to see them. Then I suddenly realized that I was questioning where I should sit. I had been living with my foster mom for so long, it only seemed right to sit with her. Then again, I have not seen my parents together in one place for a long time. Too much pressure for a little kid to choose between all these people. I loved all of them, I did not want to choose. Lucky for me, I didn’t have to. They put me, as well as my sisters in the middle of both sides. Now we waited, and looked over at both my parents and foster mom, we waved and smiled, all of us waiting with anticipation on what would happen next. Soon I grew bored, and noticed many things about the room. Unlike the rest of the building the room was carpeted and had a bunch of seats in the front. I wondered who in the world would sit there. Soon enough, my question was answered. Multiple men and women sat in the seats I was questioning. Just a few short moments later, a man in the center seat began to speak. He said to everyone, “Thank you coming here today to discuss the Grant Case.” I looked at my sisters and then thought to myself, the Grant case? Why would our last name be associated with a case? What does that even mean? I stopped questioning myself

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