Raising teenage boys of color is probably one of the most challenging demographics that one can tackle. Not only do we have to navigate the learning curve of our individual kids, we must  also understand what they must overcome are truly dealing with being black, a black man in American, and a black man living within the foster care system of America. That is a lot of barriers facing you all at once.

Foster care is the very definition of oppression. I don’t know of any other system in the world that forces a kid to face his tormentor or abuser and label it “parenting time.”  Add transracial adoption/fostering to the mix and you now have a system that displaces a child from their very culture and heritage. This is not an indictment on transracial adoptions, as I truly believe that every child deserves a loving home regardless of family racial make-up, but it is important to point out the trauma our children of color experience when leaving their homes, families, and communities for a community that looks nothing like them.

When one takes Black or Latino teenage males into one’s  home through the foster care system, understanding culture is of the utmost importance. Culture can mean a lot of things – views of police, fashion, language, and other cultures’ perception of our children’s fashion and language. Timberland boots, sagging jeans, and a hoodie is a cultural fashion standard, and our children are targeted for it – whether by shop owners following him through the store or by a police officer while he is walking through a park.  For our children, police brutality is real. Stereotypes are real. If we truly want to provide a meaningful, loving home for young black men, we must acknowledge our communities’ and our own prejudices of minority cultures

Despite all of this, we must teach our child to embrace his culture and heritage because it is what makes our children who they are – connect them to their history, help them understand who they are.

So how do we teach a child to embrace their culture even if it is something that we may not understand or even believe in?  

How do we discuss the way society’s stereotypes could also make the practice of this culture and heritage potentially dangerous? 

 

On the first day of my classes, I can’t force my students to dress a certain way or speak to me with respect. They would not know why I would be asking and, without a relationship, would not think I deserved the respect I demanded.

In order for these children to grow and evolve, I need to invest some time into building a relationship, listening to their experiences, acknowledging  their barriers, and discussing where these barriers or experiences are influenced by societies stereotypes. It is also important that, in building these relationships, we spend time experiencing culture – theirs, their classmates’, even mine. Showing them how, despite oppression making them think otherwise, they matter and I will always be listening.

So I believe the answer to this question is:

Connections and relationships + Acceptance + (positive influential exposure to other cultures) = positive change.

Sometimes I have conversations with my subconscious. Most of the time, those conversations go a little like this:

Subconscious: Don’t Judge the man that failed to raise his kid.

Me: Is a man that neglect his kid really a man?

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Subconscious: you’ve had 5 boys that you didn’t father call you dad. Aren’t you in over your head? In the deep end of the pool? 

Me: yeah but I can swim.

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Subconscious: What makes you so special?

Me: I am not special. The boys are special. If they are hungry I feed them. If they need clothes I buy them. If they cry I hug them.

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Subconscious: Who will help you when you’re weak?

Me: My wife Stacey Goodson will always be there for me. I will also ask for help from other strong fathers and strong families. A strong man will ask for help when he needs it.

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Subconscious: What if you have to send a kid home? What would you do? Will you miss him dearly?

Me: We’d have a party. A kid going home gives us a reason to celebrate. Besides, if we do it right, that kid and his family will remain in contact with us if they feel it necessary. So it’s not goodbye. It’s “see you later.”

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Subconscious: But you are tired. I know you are tired. You complain about it all of the time. Maybe not out loud, but I hear your thoughts.

Me: Good! Keep telling me that I’m tired. I’ll put systems in place to remind me that I need a break. I will practice proper self-care so I don’t snap. These kids need me.

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All kidding aside, my subconscious can sometimes get the best of me. I often have to convince myself that I am doing the right thing. I second guess myself often, but I believe that it can be healthy.

Foster care is a lifestyle and only those who understand that it is a true calling from God.

Many people struggle with Father’s Day.

It is not always a day of celebration. Some remember those who have passed away, such as my own father, while others mourn the distance between themselves and their child. I know that although I am surrounded by my children every Fathers Day, I still hurt for Zay.

Others struggle because Father’s Day is the continued reminder that they dont always know who they look like when they look in the mirror. Even more children wait out Father’s Day in a residental group home, restlessly waiting for a father to walk through the door and adopt them – feeling a rough bitterness from knowing this dream may never come true.

To the women, forced to play the role of both parents, who struggle to raise their children alone. Thank you for swallowing the bitterness of being left a job undone – I understand your struggle.

To the young men out there that are struggling with being a baby daddy because there was no one teaching you how to be Strong Fathers. I know that the struggle is real.
As a dad, I have a responsibility to teach my children all that I know. However, I can only draw from my own life experiences. I seem to have come up in a time and an environment where father’s were absent; were almost expected to be absent. Now I find myself trying to parent boys that have been abandoned by their own fathers; trying to teach them the true meaning of fatherhood.

So as I looked at my five boys on this past Father’s Day, I tried to put myself in their shoes and contemplated how i culd live out their dream father.The more I work towards this, the better they will be when they become fathers.

 

#BlackLivesMatter!

#AllLivesMatter!

I’ve seen these two movements argue to the point of nausea. Of course ‘Black Lives’ matter as does all life. That said, imagine the label of a black foster child who stuck in a residential facility.

I recently asked seventeen-year-old son how he felt about being black.

He responded by saying something to the effect of, “I never knew what to do until I came to live here; it always seemed like everyone looked at me as a child in need or a problem. Before coming to live here I had never seen a black man looked at in a positive light unless he was an athlete or entertainer. I was just so angry because I was struggling to figure out who I was and how I could matter. After I met you, I realized that I could be one of those positive black men by being a good father like you.”

I was floored.  This very insightful young man was teaching me the importance of a role-model as well as why open dialogue is so crucial to our own development.

I was once a black teenager going through the same struggle for an identity, but I can’t pretend that I know what he is and has been going through simply because I perceive our experiences as similar.

In order to parent a black foster child, we must empathize with them first. The only way for me to gain clarity was to ask him the tough questions.

This started a barrage of questions from me to him:

“Do you feel like you are treated different by authority figures because you are black?”

“How does it feel to be the only black kid in a room?”

“How do you view white families?”

“How do you think that women perceive you?”

“Are you afraid of police and if so, why?”

WE CANNOT BE AFRAID OF THESE CONVERSATIONS!

We had to talk! But I couldn’t have this dialogue with him until we had first built trust and respect. While I asked him all of these questions, I also shared my experiences and feelings.

In preparation of him driving one day, I told him the horror story of a routine traffic stop were an officer treated me like dirt and spat racial slurs towards me. I told him that I was scared and that all I could think about was getting back in my car and going home. I told him how I have a different kind of fear when a police officer gets behind me but when given the chance, I have been able to show him  exactly what to do during a routine traffic stop. Despite the images that we all have seen on the news and on social media, I have been able to model proper behavior despite my fears of a worst-case scenario.

Learning all of these things about him and how he feels about certain situations gave me an advantage. I am able to upload this information into my menRolodexodex and parent him accordingly.

I also have to be a great model because this conversation reminded me he is a sponge that will always follow my lead.

I refuse to pretend that I have all of the answers as it pertains to raising a black foster child. However, there are things that I have done that I have had success with, which are;

1) Helping to mold a positive self-image.

2) Keeping the dialogue completely open for clarity.

3) Modeling proper behavior.

They say it takes a village to raise a child.

Recently, my wife went to Hati to teach a few Haitians the basics of foster parenting and, while there, I was reminded how incredible of a “village” we have to support us in our times of need. Being gone for five days, the special people in our lives provided support for our family through so many meaningful ways.

This is how the village stepped up:

• My cousin made dinners for all five days.
• My brother came over and stayed with the boys until I got home from work.
• My son’s coach came to pick him up for basketball practice.
• My mother-in-law took a kid to a counseling appointment.
• My son’s mentor took him and a couple of friends to the park so that I could get some work done.

I can’t stress enough the importance of a “Village.” Everyone that I have mentioned above has taken the time to fully understand our lifestyle and our belief that every child deserves a loving home. We know that, for us, a loving home will always consist of an extended network of people who love everything and everyone our home stands for.

You may not have the capacity to take in a child and foster them as we did; however, everyone has the ability to do something, to play even a small role in a child’s life through the support of a family.

To our village, thank you!

On our first date, my wife asked me if I’d ever be interested in foster care and adoption. Without hesitation I said, “Yes!”

It was at that moment that Stacey knew I was the one for her.

Sure enough, two years later we were married and four months after that we were foster parents. Two years after becoming foster parents, we adopted two teenage boys! Now, on the fourth anniversary, there are eleven children that call us mom and dad.

I can honestly say that my wife is my inspiration. Everyday I have the privilege to see her juggle our children, her career and our marriage with incredible beauty. On top of being an incredible person in our home, she is admired by many in the field she works in.

It doesn’t matter if she is giving a keynote speech at a conference, or small talk advice to a potential foster parent, I am her biggest cheerleader. But before triumphs, there is always struggle.

I’ve also had the privilege of drying her tears, giving her pep-talks to keep going, and spraying water on her so she can fight burnout.
Therefore, we celebrate because every new year is a milestone. Every year that we stay together represents one more year that a child in need will have a home.

But we acelebrate all anniversaries, not just that of our marriage. Each year we  celebrate our adoption day (whitch just so happens to be on my wife’s birthday – what a great gift)!

We celebrate the day that our foster license was open because it gives us the ability to have children in our lives.

We celebrate the day of successful reunifications and reflect on the impact that child had on our lives and our family. We smile at the memories and learn from the mistakes.
Every milestone and triumph deserves a little reflection, celebration, and fun!
My advice is this, if you have an anniversary that represents a milestone, celebrate it, because it is extremely important to recognize anything good that has withstood the test of time.

Taking in a new foster care child can be expensive. I believe that some Foster Parents would be more likely to take on more kids if we didn’t have to eat the expense up front.

We recently took in a teenager out of Kids First and he basically came to us with the clothes on his back. Aside from that initial expense of getting him all the clothes and supplies he needed, our household expenses went up immediately. Because he goes to school 30 miles round trip from our house with many “visits” and appointments on top of that, our biggest expense has been in gas.  Who would have thought that a gas expense should have been in our budget when planning to take in a new child?

Because we are discovering some of the “bumps” in the new placement journey currently, I couldn’t help but think how useful a “packing list” for surviving a new placement would be for foster dads. What are some of the necessities when preparing for a child to come into your home?

So, here is my version of a “new placement packing list”

Essentials:
1. Clothing voucher
2. Food voucher
3. GAS CARDS GAS CARDS GAS CARDS. (Oh did I say gas cards?)

Perks Essential to the “Process”:

1. Movie passes
2. Restaurant gift cards
3. YMCA/Gym passes
4. Baseball Tickets (for us it’s the Whitecaps!)

Something important to add to your list (or budget) for the beginning of a new placement is time spent together becoming a family. These experiences are essential to making the new child in your home feel safe and part of a community.

As I walked past the bathroom in my narrow hallway that leads to my bedroom, I noticed my son checking himself out in the mirror. I stopped and watched him pick his mini-afro out perfectly and smile at himself in the mirror as if he were posing for GQ magazine. He just about caught me watching him as I almost choked on the cloud of Axe body spray that permeated the small bathroom.

But as I recovered, I was then overcome with sudden sadness; my son has no idea who he looks like.

He has never met his dad. And although he has an older brother that looks a lot like him, there was just something missing.

Although we are two black men, we don’t look anything alike.  I wonder what it is like for him when people asks who I am and he tells them, “That’s my dad.” I’m sure he has gotten used to the side-eyed glances people use to quickly compare us in question to his response.

So one day I asked him how it makes him feel that he doesn’t know who he looks like. His answered floored me.

“I look like me. I look like God. He made me in his image.”

I can’t imagine not knowing what my dad looked like, my family looks like, or my extended family looks like. It’s something that I never questioned. As my son is now coming into his own, he identifies my family as his. I don’t think that it bothers him one bit that he doesn’t look like us. He is a part of TeamGoodson, and that is all that matters to him.

I remember my niece announcing to the family that she was pregnant and the craziness that ensued in the later months. During that time, she had not one but three baby showers. Friends and family from all over the country came to the parties with gifts for both mom and baby. I remember thinking to myself, “Wow, that newborn baby will have a very large, and loving support system.

Six months later my wife and I decided to adopt our thirteen and fifteen-year-old sons out of a residential facility. For some reason, I was hoping to receive the same amount of love and attention for my two boys from the friends and family that showered my niece with it just months before.

I couldn’t help but think, “Where is my baby shower? I want one too!”We knew the traditional ways of supporting your family is different with adoptions versus newborn. Nonetheless, we were still welcoming new children into our home and, in an attempt to address the elephants in the room… eeerrrr I mean to celebrate the occasion, we had a party and invited everyone. To my amazement, not everyone came.

As time went on, I also noticed that my circle of friends was changing. Family members that had once been mainstays in our house started creating space. Friends were leaving more and more time between their visits. What happened? Do they not like us as much?

I believe that in some ways, it was a two-way street. Our friends and family didn’t understand all that my wife and I were doing. They couldn’t comprehend the challenges that our teenage boys faced. Because they didn’t understand, it became hard for us to confide in them about our day-to-day issues.

So my wife and I sat down and made a very intentional list of who our support system would be. By the time our list shook out, we noticed that many of the people on it were foster and adoptive parents themselves. Those that weren’t, the friends and family who had stayed around, had really stepped up and even started coming to trauma informed training classes or foster and adoptive kid panels to get a better understanding of how our family worked.

My wife and I had to decipher the difference between our support groups. We didn’t lose friends, our circumstances just changed. When we get dinner with certain people, we don’t talk about the nuances of parenting a child that has experienced trauma because they wouldn’t understand and it is not fair to them for us to try to make them “get it.” We reserve that conversation for our friends and family that do “get it.”

They say that it “takes a village to raise a child,” and  I believe this to be true. We just worked to make sure that our village, compiled of people like our Grandma, Aunt, Sister, BFF, school social worker, and coach,  are individuals who understand the barriers our kids have overcome and have an understanding of what we need them to support us through.

We didn’t lose our support system; if anything, we fostered and gained a new community of friends.