Friday, February 02, 2007

Eight weeks

That's how long it has been since Evan left: eight weeks.

There has been no phone call. The other day the family developer sent me an email asking if I had heard from Evan. She was chatty and in my return email I even asked if there were prospects. She never responded.

That's good right? That means that the gay kids are all safe, right?

Or does it mean they are closeted and afraid?

Or does her not responding mean that there is a possibility, but not one that she can tell me about yet? Or does it mean, like it very well could, that there is no prospect yet and, having no answer, she just didn't bother to email me back?

Actually I knew it was going to be months. I think that I said that I wanted them to not call until the middle of Feburary, but that I wanted to know that is when they were going to call. It is probably better if they don't call until after we all settle into the new routine with Brian. We also have not cleaned out his room. Brian, because of the puppy, moved to Evan's old room next to ours, and Brian's old room, next to Andrew's will be the new kid's room. It is still chock full of old toys and books that Brian claims he does not want. We need to sort, toss, sell, give away, and find new places for what we can't let go of. (Maybe we should call that show where they help you to do it in two days?)

Hubby wants to take care of the room during his Spring Break, which is mid-March, so he is fine with no calls for a while.

I look at the photo listings. Not the way most people do. I look at them and hope they find adoptive homes. Even the ones I am most drawn to I hope I will never see. But some of them I know I will. They may not come to my home, but they will go to permanent foster care.

There is one boy who is sixteen and a half. I look at his profile and think I'll be seeing him at the end of summer picnic the agency has every year. Who adopts sixteen-and-a-half year-old boys? He is probably going through the process to be admitted to the permancy program right now, unless he lives in another part of the state, of course.

And I have a confession. I keep wondering whether to post this. In his profile he says he is not much into sports. He likes art and theatre. Whoever wrote the other part of the profile used the word, "sensitive" twice. I think to myself, if you are, come out! Tell your worker!

Then I slap my hand for stereotyping.


  1. You can slap your hand all you want, but sometimes stereotypes are true. If they weren't true often enough to be believable, then they wouldn't be stereotypes in the first place, now would they?

    That being said, I found a 16-year-old boy on a photo listing who had obtained a scholarship to become a hair stylist. I looked at his photo, and my gaydar definitely went ping.

    So go ahead, slap my hand for stereotyping too...

  2. Does the agency have any language in their materials for the kids that indicates that there are families [note the optimistic plural, here] who specifically take LGBT youth?

    I am thinking about the scared and/or closeted kids who might take a step towards you if they didn't think that they were stepping off a ledge without a net. You are a net - do they know that you are there?

    I seem to be floundering in a sea of cliche, so I shall stop.


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