Been a gap in my blog posting because a new child has arrived.
He's actually a dream placement (oh yes, they're out there, most times you only hear about the challenges).
He's 17 years old coming up 18. His being fostered is being wound down, tapered off. Won't be long before he's out in the world fending for himself.
He's sturdy physically and emotionally. Carries himself with dignity, wit and warmth.
Our fostering of him is almost hands-off, that's how they want it; let him experience all the sense of independence available so that he's as ready as possible for adulthood.
Here's a little story that'll give you an idea of this fine guy; his name's Joe.
Joe goes out most nights, tells us where he's going and what he's planning. Whether he tells us everything or not…you know what teenagers are about, you must do. You were one once. Remember?
He takes the train each evening and catches the last one back. Our house is a bit too far for a walk home from the station so I pick him up.
The first time I collected him it was about 10.45. I parked in the station car park. It's next to one of those pubs you get near railway stations, a bit of hurley burley about it. I wound up my windows and clicked the button to lock all the doors.
When his train pulled in he appeared and strode across the car park towards me with a nonchalent wave and a friendly grin.
As he reached the car I unlocked the doors and he opened the passenger door. Three lads were spilling out of the pub and ragging each other in a friendly/confrontational way, calling each other names in that jokey/ironic way they've heard grown men do. The language was colourful but harmless.
They were going past the car and Joe had the door open.
"Guys," he said in a friendly voice - I could hear the smile - "I got me mum in the car 'ere".
The lads fell silent. They carried on walking. About ten yards beyond us one of them shouted an expletive, just to save face.
Joe got in. "Kids!" he sighed. Then he said;
"Mind if I wind down the window?"
I agreed. But I could still smell the smoke on his parker.
I'm not clued up enough to know what he'd been smoking. If he'd been twelve it would have been an issue for me, I'd bring it up with my Blue Sky Social Worker at our next supervision session.
Joe told me that being mixed race had many benefits. He hopes to go into the music business, he spends a lot of time creating digital music.
I tell him that however and wherever he goes along in life, I'll always be in his fan club.
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