When I was first proposed doing this blog about my experiences as a child of foster carers, I wasn’t sure how I would approach it. Of course, the experience isn’t something I haven’t got a lack of experience with, my parents began fostering when I was eleven, and the last placement we had left us in the last eighteen months. I have almost two decades of in-house experience of what it is to live in a house that cares for foster children, why would I have any trouble detailing it?

Coincidentally, I was in a book shop a few days ago (that part is not coincidental considering my love of books and profession), when the bookseller and I began talking about my recent book, Jamaal Target: PHANTOM Agent. She explained how her foster brother is a real lover of books, and how that book had the potential to (and how it did) really grasp him. We spoke for a while about what it is to be children of parents that fostered and instantly connected on that shared experience. I couldn’t think then of another instance where I’ve met and spoken to someone who’s had the same experience, because it is something very unique. I’ve spoken to other foster carer’s before, I’ve spoken to adults that would like to foster but don’t know how to get into it, and people who are just curious about the process and what it’s like up close. But I’d never encountered a fellow child of foster carers.

As I detailed earlier, my parents began fostering when I was eleven and my younger sibling, eight. Previous to that my parents had been hosts to international students for years, offering a room to those studying abroad for what could be the duration of a term or longer at a time. I think because of this I was used to having people outside my immediate family staying with us from an early age. Opening up our home to people was something my parents enjoyed, and learning that my paternal grandparents also had plans to open up a breakfast and bed in back home in Jamaica made it clear that this must run in the blood.

From my own perspective (and memory), I don’t really remember being very apprehensive of having a new kid in the house, more excited about having a new sibling. Our first placement was a boy about four or five years older than me. He was going through his GCSEs at the time, and I think it was especially important he had a kind of stability for that period at least.

My parents are quite empathetic people, and I think that rubbed off on us in a good way to where even back then there was a general understanding about what this young person may need and how they may feel coming to live with complete strangers. We got along fairly well, we would play games, watch films as we got to know each other better, but of course there came the natural friction that comes with being a child that has siblings. We argued, annoyed each other, fought as siblings do. It was normal.

My first foster brother left us not long after he finished secondary school. He had spent months with us, a considerable amount of time, and certainly enough to get used to someone. That was the first experience of a child leaving after staying with us,  and it was odd. Sad, but hopeful as well that this person was going onto something better and more secure.

Over the next years, my parents took on many more placements, each unique, ranging from respite, short term to what ended up being long term placements. We had multiple siblings at a time, which I think was a bit more challenging not only from a spatial aspect (going from a family of four to six) but from the dynamic of how each sibling would adjust to living with us. On more than one occasion I remember feeling like I didn’t want to leave a particular sibling out, but it’s hard not to do when you don’t naturally get along with someone as you do someone else.

It also at times made me look at my parents with worry. Whenever we would have out family meetings with social workers regarding any concerns or issues, feedback with how a particular placement went or anything to note for the future, I always would try to stress how worried sometimes I would feel for my parents and their ability to cope. Raising children is hard enough (I imagine), and raising children within the care system comes with not only added challenges but scrutiny also.

Another aspect was age difference. As my sibling and I got older, our foster siblings would get younger. Our first foster placement was the only time I’ve ever been a younger sibling. All the other placements I was the eldest, whether marginally or by a considerable age gap, and because of that by the time I was an adult my role changed slightly as well. I was no longer just a child of foster carers, but almost a part of the support network around them. My parents would never encroach or ask me to do anything, and I always appreciated that, but when the opportunity came to help and I could, I would.  Some of my fondest memories of fostering are in that experience, like taking a sibling pair trick or treating on Halloween, or another to the park for a workout session around the racetracks and public gym.

Overall I’m very glad my parents chose to foster. It’s a good thing to do, and I have a tremendous amount of respect for them for it. Who knows, perhaps in the future I will be doing the same.  

Jamaal Target: PHANTOM Agent by Isaac Hamilton-McKenzie (Penguin)