San Francisco offers a wide variety of volunteer opportunities. I wanted to work with kids and be more then a “play buddy.” I wanted my time to have an everlasting impact on a child’s life. Court Appointed Special Advocates (CASA) looks for volunteers who are willing to do just that.

I have been assigned to my CASA youth, Daniel, for six years.  When I first met Daniel, he was only 9 years old.  Our relationship was not always easy. He was angry, and rightly so, having spent the majority of his life in foster care, including group homes. I kept coming back to him, week after week, year after year. Some of our visits were positive and others were less so. There were many times I questioned whether I was having any effect on him at all. Yet through the uncertainty, I remained positive and continued to show up. I cheered at his baseball games, and I sat with him in his classroom.

In Court I gave recommendations, updates, and a description of this resilient young man. Through the years, I have seen social workers come and go, school changes, and placement disruptions.  I remained the constant in Daniel’s life. And this is what made an impact on his life. Once during a difficult meeting Daniel stood up and shouted, “Out, everyone out!” When I stood to leave, he stated, “No, not you, you’re my best friend!’

Becoming a CASA volunteer has allowed me to gain a wide variety of skills. It has also offered me the opportunity to meet new people: attorneys, judges, social workers, and community resource providers. I have learned a great deal from each one of these professionals.  But most gratifying is knowing that Daniel, now fourteen years old, has reason to trust and considers me a friend that he can count on.  Being a CASA has become more then a drop in my bucket.

The post Introducing Martin appeared first on San Francisco CASA.

When I came on board as Jamilah’s CASA there seemed to be a lot of transition occurring, both in terms of her day to day situation, and also in terms of the behind the scenes work of her team. Jamilah had multiple people on her team of providers change over the first several months I was on the case, visitation between her and her mother had been stopped, and  Jamilah seemed on the brink of being asked to leave her current placement. Because of the training that CASA provided, I knew that all of these transitions were likely very challenging to her sense of belonging and emotional safety.

In another CASA’s story about their own work with their youth, they spoke about the importance of asking questions to focus on solutions, and that rings absolutely true to my own experience in this first year of volunteering. I felt confused about the fact that Jamilah was being prevented from visiting her mother without an authorization of the court being on file, and it was easy to validate the anger and frustration her mother was feeling at this turn of events. Jamilah, being reluctant to open up at first, did not express directly to me the impact this was having on her, but I learned from her other care providers that this separation from her parent was deeply affecting her, as she felt a very strong loyalty to her biological family.  Knowing that I would not have the opportunity to address the issue in court for several months, I tried to ask as many questions as possible to as many team members as possible to understand what had initiated this break in visitation, and in a way these questions seemed to be all the intervention that was needed. Although I met with some resistance, the more people I asked on the team, the more clear it was that we were together in our confusion about this issue. This allowed us to come together to re-initiate visitation, which was a factor in helping Jamilah to feel more stable in a new placement for a while.

Jamilah’s love for her family, and her loyalty to her mother, are both amazing strengths, and coping with the impact of separation as well as the long term effects of trauma have been challenges for her in foster care. She handles her anxiety in the best ways she knows how, by acting out, by rejecting placements, and by keeping her more vulnerable feelings about her family safely away from her team of providers. Though I understood the to address acting out behaviors, I also wondered if at the root we would continue to see these behaviors until Jamilah’s self-image changed enough that she felt a bit more safe and loved in the world.

After her placement change, when I got to meet Jamilah and asked her whether she knew what CASAs are, she said no. In fact, she firmly denied ever having requested one! This certainly reflected her need for emotional safety, and I have learned to understand and appreciate this as one of the many ways she protected herself. Though shy at first, she was also very playful, and the way I first understood that she was reaching out to engage was when she would jump out and surprise me as I came out of the bathroom, or how she would peek between the shades on her bedroom window as I waved goodbye, or on another occasion would roll herself in her blanket and crawl out of her room wrapped in a comforter cocoon, giggling with glee as I would ask “where on earth is Jamilah? I thought I heard her voice, but all I see is this blanket someone left here.” She seemed to me like a little girl in ways, and in other ways much more mature than her years in her immediate desire to achieve very adult goals.

We started off slow, but eventually built to going out roller-skating, to the aquarium, and on other outings. Jamilah called me one night, asking if I was really coming the next day, because she was worried that her foster mom had lied to her about it. I told her I was. The next day she seemed anxious when I arrived. Once we were in the car, headed to an outing, I was checking in with her about her call the night before and she flatly denied having called. Then she said that she thought I was Jasmine, an aunt with the same name.

There was something about that day that provided me a precious insight of her internal struggle on a different level. What I saw then, and what I still see to this day, is a girl becoming a young woman, longing for connection, developing her identity and her sense of self-worth, reaching out, yearning for her family, for her friends, for someone to be in her life unconditionally loving and supporting her, and at the same time often behaving in ways to test those people’s commitment, because she is unsure of whether she can count on them to stay: reaching out, but scared of rejection.

My relationship with Jamilah has taken many turns along the path this past year. For a period of months Jamilah did not seem to want anything to do with me, and at more than one point she said she no longer wanted a CASA at all. She went AWOL for a week, and I hoped her mother had her secretly and at least somewhat safely with her, but I was worried she had been snatched up by a child predator. Thank goodness she did return, and I learned that she likely was with family during that time. With little letters here and there, and gently returning to visits, I have now reconnected with her, and I think she has a little more trust that I am not going to disappear just because she pushes me away.

Jamilah is now in a new placement. She is actually back with the only foster parent she has consistently said good things about, and I respect the connection that this caretaker has with Jamilah. I have slowly seen shifts and turns on the case that reflect what Jamilah has asked for. I have also for the first time in over a year on the case learned that Jamilah has begun to truly utilize therapy, starting to explore some more vulnerable topics. I have no doubt that this is connected to her placement with a wonderful foster parent who she has come to trust and have respect for.

Jamilah is a bright and feisty teenager now, expressing more readily her feelings about wanting to be placed with family. Behind the scenes I am doing my best to push for the same thing, to push for a permanency plan that will allow Jamilah to feel her interests and desires are being heard, to use the natural supports that are already there in the community, and all the while, the most important piece to my relationship with Jamilah: I just keep showing up. I know I can’t fix everything for her, or rescue her; like the story of the butterfly emerging from a chrysalis, she has to build the strength in her own wings so that she has the power to fly when she is ready. Along the way, I appreciate the opportunity to advocate for her, and to enjoy the unique, intelligent, playful, and resilient young woman that she is.

The post Introducing Jasmine appeared first on San Francisco CASA.

Alice shouldn’t like hanging out with me.  She has been in foster care since she was one and has averaged moving to a new home every year.  She’s had many adults in her life let her down.  When we first started hanging out, she was quiet and we had long moments of silence in the car.  She would say she didn’t care how we spent our time together or agree to do something she didn’t actually want to do because she didn’t believe I was going to plan it (like swimming or cooking lessons.)  She never made waves but never got attached.  I wondered if she was waiting for me to lose interest.

She won’t lose me, though, and she is showing signs of knowing that.  She texts me that she can’t wait to see me.  She thanks me for taking her to fun places.  She offers to treat me to a smoothie.  She tells me “olive juice,” which I’ve learned means I love you.  I’m not special.  I believe she would develop this sort of relationship with any adult who listens to her, praises her, reaches out to her, consistently shows up, plans for her, and only after many months of developing trust, gives advice to her.  It took time to work up to this point, but she is so worth it.  I look forward to the big milestones, like college graduation (she started this week), but also more funny conversations in the car.

The post Introducing Beth appeared first on San Francisco CASA.

Reading the files to choose a youth was harder and easier than I expected. It was easier in that I immediately knew which youth was meant for me. It was harder because, as one classmate put it, “when you choose one, you’re not choosing the others.” Absorbing the history of four entire lives at once, as I read four different case files to make a choice, was overwhelming in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I was especially touched by the letters of a mother pleading for the US government to let her young children stay in the country even if she couldn’t. She was found murdered a year later. Reading those files was an intense reminder of how unfair life can be. I sobbed as I drove home that afternoon.

However, the youths I’ve met are resilient and eager to connect. I’ve been matched with two teenaged young men. The first, Evan, was selectively mute when CPS took him in, and he was diagnosed with schizophrenia. I read a great deal of literature about a lot of medical terms I’d never heard of before, but most importantly I tried to keep an open mind even though I was nervous about feeling unprepared.

Evan struggled greatly with social interaction and preferred to be alone much of the time, but he was kind and polite and other kids liked him. He was surrounded by a lot of the most challenging kids in the city, and I could see how amazing all of the teachers, therapists, the social worker, and especially his lawyer were. However, I also saw how stretched thin they were. I could eventually see how valuable being the person who only focused on him was to the entire situation.

When we met, we usually went out to eat. I encouraged him to practice what seemed like simple things, but they weren’t to him. I remember clearly the first time he ordered for himself at a restaurant and how proud he was to receive my praise when he excitedly experienced this progress. Over time he continued to get more comfortable with this skill, and I felt that was going to be really huge in his life. I knew he knew what he wanted, but he had trouble asking for things. It’s funny to be so excited about something so small but really so big.

There were several unexpected experiences I learned from, and I was thankful the CASA training had prepared me to keep an open mind. One was seeing how much this youth’s mother really loved him and did her best to attend meetings. I would text her pictures sometimes, and she would thank me profusely and be so appreciative of the time I spent with her son. I hadn’t expected that, but I was more prepared because the training had shown me how strong the mother-child bond is regardless of trauma. I was happy I was able to see the positives in the relationship instead of focusing on the obvious negatives. Though she didn’t show up sometimes when she had said she would and that was very hard for Evan, I could tell her love was sincere and she was trying the best she knew how.

Another unexpected experience was directly related to the schizophrenia. Evan often talked about a best friend and told stories that didn’t always make sense to me. I did my best to listen. That role of listening without offering information about myself or my opinion was challenging as I learned just how easy it is to be self-centered! But I really tried not to be judgmental. His therapist told me repeatedly that this friend was not a real person, and it upset Evan to hear this from his therapist, so eventually he stopped talking about her. About a year later, Evan was finally allowed to log into his email and prove that the friend was a real person. I’m really happy I was able to stay neutral in this and listen. I can’t imagine how frustrating it must have been to him.

This case didn’t have a fairytale ending. A couple of months before Evan turned 18, he stopped wanting to see me. My supervisor was very supportive in assuring me it wasn’t anything I’d done wrong but that he was pushing me away in the knowledge that my role as his CASA was ending when he turned 18 because he was not opting into AB12 (extended foster care for young adults ages 18-21 years old). I continued attending meetings to help plan his next steps. He was going to be independent and was preparing for another loss. It’s difficult not to know what’s happening in his life, but I hope that he will remember how much I believed in him and encouraged him to find a job he likes instead of settling for less. He’s a very intelligent person, and I hope he grows to believe in himself as much as I believe in his abilities.

The post Introducing Renee appeared first on San Francisco CASA.

In my first visit with Mariah she talked non-stop and walked me around the park by her foster mom’s house, showing me all the spots where she made forts with her friends. When Mariah feels comfortable she is a self-directed, ambitious child and we developed a routine where at the end of each visit Mariah would tell me what she would like to do during the next visit; go out to lunch; go swimming; get a library card. During these activities Mariah often shared current and past details about her life and seemed to enjoy herself, smiling and sharing her interests. Because of her openness to get to know me and have fun together, I could not help but immediately feel like a great CASA.

Unfortunately, those first months on the case were definitively the happiest and most open that I have seen Mariah so far. When I met Mariah, she, Evelyn, and Zoe had been living with their same foster mother, who they called Nana, for many years.  After Mariah turned eleven and started middle school, Nana gave notice that she felt too burnt out to continue caring for the girls.  The department found a new home for all three sisters, but this home fell through almost immediately and the girls were removed after just a couple days. The department could not find another home that could take all three girls, so they placed Mariah and her younger sister, Zoe, in one home, and their older sister, Evelyn, in another home.

It took several phone calls with the next foster mom before I could solidify a visit. As we discussed all the scheduling difficulties, I realized what a large number of adults were in Mariah and Zoe’s lives: their child protective services worker, their family therapist, their foster family licensing agency case worker, their individual therapists, their Big Sisters, me, and Zoe’s CASA.  Also remarkable is how often these people change. I was Mariah’s second CASA, and in my first year on the case, Mariah lost two caseworkers, her therapist and her Big Sister.

Mariah was initially optimistic about her placement changes.  She told me she missed Nana but that the newest foster mom was fun, the house had a big backyard, and, she and her sisters would be moving back with their biological mom within just a couple of months anyway.

It is hard hearing Mariah talk about moving back with her biological family, because it always seems to Mariah to be just around the corner, yet still out of reach. In just the past 13 months we have had six court hearings about the possibility of reunification with another scheduled for August. At least for now, I think the dream of going home has been what’s kept Mariah going through all the changes.

About two months after Mariah and Zoe were moved to their separate home, they were moved again to what was home number four in six months. Visiting Mariah in this new house, I noticed how much quieter she was. She now almost always wanted me to take her to the movies and to take her little sister along, instead of on a more interactive outing or a visit that was “just us”. Foster mother number four told me that Mariah and Zoe barely spoke to her and that they spent all their time in their rooms. She said she didn’t know what was wrong with Mariah. I told the foster mother I thought Mariah was feeling shut down and was afraid to open up again after all of her recent placement changes; still, in spite of understanding intellectually, I couldn’t help also feeling like I was doing something wrong, as Mariah no longer opened up like in our early visits and as her grades dropped in school.  She stopped saying she liked school, and Evelyn said she thought Mariah was being bullied; however Mariah wouldn’t talk much about that.

Meeting with Mariah during this hard time, it is easy to feel like I am not doing enough to get her what she deserves out of life – permanency, safety, an environment in which she is happy and stable enough to do well in school and achieve her full potential. It has been important to celebrate interim victories. For example, Evelyn’s CASA and I collaborated with SFCASA this spring to get both girls into UC Berkeley’s SOAR for Youth program, a pre-collegiate summer camp and mentorship program where Mariah will receive support with academics and life skills and can move closer to her goal of attending college. As I drove them through the Berkeley hills Mariah declared “wow, these houses are so nice!  I think I will live in Berkeley some day”.

I have also learned strategies to keep from feeling lost as one of so many members of Mariah and her sisters’ ever-changing team. In my second year on the case I am building up my political street cred with the other members of the care team through phone calls, emails, and attending treatment team meetings whenever I can.  Given all the people and logistics, even seemingly small things – like trying to arrange for Mariah and her younger sister to have contact with Nana– have sometimes taken months to troubleshoot.  However, there have been eventual successes – when they recently lost placement number four, Mariah and Zoe had the relief of their at least temporary placement being back with their Nana.  As they unpacked into their old rooms, Zoe smiled at Mariah and said “it’s just like old times.”  And despite all of the placement difficulties on this case I do believe that everyone involved, from foster parents to department staff, are working very hard to do what they can for Mariah and her sisters.  I’ve found my best tool for building collaboration is simply telling people how much I notice and appreciate their effort.

Recently, Zoe’s CASA had to leave her role after four years to move to San Diego.  After thinking about all the new people who had already come into the girls lives, and consulting with the team and Mariah herself, I decided to take on the CASA role for Zoe as well.  Now, my visits include individual activities with each girl and also times that we go out as a group.

When I became a CASA I did not visualize making a life-long commitment of permanency to a child, but now I am starting to think of my role that way. I hope that someday Mariah and her siblings reach the end of their journey to find a safe, permanent home situation to call their own.  But as long as we are on that journey, I am committed to remaining as a caring adult in their lives, supporting them as much as I can along the way.

The post Introducing Cate appeared first on San Francisco CASA.

The post Introducing Judy appeared first on San Francisco CASA.

At the time and for years to come, Raymond understandably felt rejected. The fact that they ultimately adopted his brother made the abandonment even more painful and thereby the psychological impact significant.  Since then, Raymond has lived in three different foster homes, some on a few occasions, and currently resides in a group care setting.

When I met Raymond he was a sweet-natured six-year-old boy, full of curiosity and conversation, and he engaged everyone in a friendly, disarming manner.  He continues to remain so to this day. However, Raymond’s behavior would periodically become challenging.

During my time as Raymond’s CASA, I have played a number of roles in his life. I serve as his educational surrogate, which means I help make decisions about his educational plans and placements. And, as CASAs do, I have made many recommendations about Raymond’s best interest. But my most important role, I think, has been just being there for those eleven years.  I’ve known Raymond longer than anyone in his life, and he trusts me. That’s an awesome responsibility and a little scary, I have to say.

There have been a number of challenges, but three in particular stand out in my mind, and for which I know my steady advocacy has resulted in positive outcomes—at least in the first two instances thus far.

First, I advocated for Raymond to be placed in a school well-equipped to concurrently support his academic needs and make progress with his behavioral health.  Although I am not the only one who has worked on this, I’ve been steadily and reliably involved.  Currently, as a seventeen-year-old high school junior in a special education program, Raymond is finally reading at a beginning level and his behavior has noticeably improved.

The second challenge has been his interaction with the most recent of his foster mothers. Raymond has lived with this particular foster mother on four different occasions, each time ending with an altercation and a request that his placement be changed.  This is complicated by the fact that the foster mother eventually always asks for Raymond to return to her care with a promise to adopt him. I felt strongly the foster mother’s repeated rejection of Raymond made his sense of abandonment more profound, and on that ground I began to express concern and began to object after subsequent failed placements with the foster mother. As a result of my advocacy, Raymond will now no longer be placed with this foster mother. Of course, this is a bittersweet outcome because it is complicated by the fact that Raymond and the foster mother really love each other. They just can’t live together. Despite caring for Raymond, the foster mother struggles to understand the significance of his mental health needs. Raymond is now living in a group home and although group care certainly isn’t an appropriate “forever” and permanent home, Raymond has been matched with a strong therapist and I am hopeful this will help to stabilize and support him to have more positive and successful relationships with others in his adult life.

But, these all lead to the third challenge we are working on together with Raymond:  what next?  Raymond will be 18 next year.  At that time he will not be eligible for the therapeutic group home care of his current placement and he has to make plans for his adult life. The team is beginning to help him prepare for adult life by applying for SSI, looking into programs such as the Independent Life Skills, and helping him apply for entry-level jobs in places like restaurants. But I feel apprehensive about his future.

At the same time, I rejoice in Raymond’s accomplishments and our times together.  He plays the guitar (which was a gift from CASA) skillfully and with pleasure.  We go fishing, roller skating, play miniature golf, and eat often at our favorite Chinese restaurant.  We’ve been to Alcatraz twice, to Angel Island twice, to House of Air, and many other places together. I do wish I could make a perfect life for him, but I also know that is not my role as his CASA.

The post Introducing Nancy appeared first on San Francisco CASA.