What becomes of a childhood built upon repeated rejection? How can that child ever believe that someday, someone will want and love him? How can he live his life as a purposeful adult?

FOSTERING HOPE is a riveting true story about the pain of rejection, the power of a child's untapped potential, and the passion in purposeful living. Born to a teenage mother whose heroin addiction shattered the hopes and dreams of her family, renowned author, lecturer, and national child advocate Shane Salter was thrust into the role of parent to his infant brother at the tender age of four. In FOSTERING HOPE, he shares his story and his strategies for moving beyond resentment to forgiveness and hope.

Salter's harrowing journey affirms the possibility of reclaiming the power that the past has over us. It is not too late to reestablish relationships and rebuild once-burned bridges toward dreams deferred. As we learn to better understand ourselves and the hidden prison that confines us, we learn to transform hopelessness to hope. Salter's memoir truly makes hope real.

Fostering Hope

iUniverse, Inc.

Contents

Preface...............................................................xi1. One More Baby Child Born...........................................12. What about the Children?...........................................83. God Bless the Dreamer..............................................234. Let It Be..........................................................435. The Dream with My Name on It.......................................566. The Storm Is Over..................................................707. I Will Stay with You...............................................878. Never Give Up......................................................969. A Change Is Gonna Come.............................................10710. You Were Loved....................................................11011. Like a Motherless Child: A Long Way from Home.....................11712. Born for This.....................................................12313. You Gotta Be Stronger.............................................13514. Fire and Rain.....................................................14115. Where Are They Now?...............................................15116. Forgiveness and Hope..............................................15517. Somebody Told Me..................................................166Appendixes............................................................175References............................................................187

Chapter One

One more baby child born, and the busy world just goes on; His first look at the world is through a broken window pane?Beyond that ... an alley leading nowhere. ?Valerie Simpson

When I was four years old, I became a parent. My nineteen-year-old mother, Sherry?summoned by her heroin addiction?walked out of our basement apartment in Harlem and left me alone to care for my six-month-old brother, Keith. Because I was the older of her two boys, she had often left me in charge when she had to step out before. I learned early how to prepare bottles and change diapers. People called me "Little Man," and by default, I was the man of the house. I knew to keep the door locked and to never answer it.

The last day I saw my mother, her addiction was raging, and once again, she left our apartment with me in charge. How was I to know it would be the last time I would ever see her? Why didn't she come back? Did she just give up? Did she want us in the first place? For many years, those unanswered questions tormented me. I was much too young to figure it out then. I only hoped to see her one more time.

All I wanted was to remain a little boy and a big brother. Nevertheless, the day my mother walked out, I instantly became a caretaker and parent. Having already given me so much responsibility so early, perhaps my mother, without fully understanding it herself, had been preparing me for the challenge and for the struggles that lay ahead.

I took care of little Keith in the best way I could, but how we managed alone remains a mystery to me. The day our mother departed, there was not much in the house left to eat. After a few days, there was no food at all, Keith cried longer and louder once we were out of milk, and I knew I had to go find some. That meant I had to disobey my mother. Every time she had left us alone, my mom would tell me, "Never open the door; never leave the house; and never let anybody in." But instinctively, I knew I had to ignore her instructions that time, and I headed out the door in search of food, wearing nothing but a dirty diaper, because I'd never been potty-trained.

I can only imagine how I must have looked?a filthy, barefoot, four-year-old boy rummaging through garbage cans for something to eat. I don't know how long I'd been searching through the trash when a police officer on foot patrol discovered me. As he approached, I never thought to run. I suppose I wasn't afraid. When he asked me where I lived, I disobeyed my mother again and eagerly led him to our apartment. I knew she'd say I never should have let him in, but what was I supposed to do? I had tried as long as I could to keep it together while she was away, but I just couldn't any longer. We needed help.

If it had been a fairytale, the story would have ended here?just the way it does on television?with the little boy wearing the police officer's hat and eating an ice cream cone. That's not what happened. How was I to know I was getting my mother into trouble? There was no way for me to know that this event was the beginning of the rest of my life without her.

Once the officer was inside the apartment, it was painfully obvious that we had been left alone for more than a few hours. The apartment was filthy and in disarray, and all the food was gone. The police officer had no choice but to call the Bureau of Child Welfare.

When the car with the adults arrived to haul Keith and me away from our home, I cried and screamed at the top of my lungs, "I want Sherry! I want Sherry!"

I fought and screamed and cried with everything I had to stop them from taking us away. I have no recollection of being frightened while at home, even during the times my mother wasn't there. Leaving everything that was familiar, however, petrified me. Finally, I fell asleep in the car. My next memory is of waking up in a new place. Its strangeness made me feel as if I were dreaming. Weird people?fat with bright red lipstick and a lot of makeup?were staring at me.

The strange new destination, it turns out, was the downtown location where kids were processed into foster care. After my initial intake interview, I underwent a series of evaluations, which included a medical exam to ensure that I had no communicable diseases. My biggest medical problem was severe tooth decay. Because of my mom's lack of prenatal care, I had been born with a calcium deficiency that led to a mouth full of rotten teeth and bad breath. Dental hygiene problems notwithstanding, Keith and I were deemed healthy enough to be placed in an emergency foster home that night.

Just hours after being snatched away from our mother's house, my brother and I arrived at the home of our first foster mother, Miss Fanny. Thanks to an attentive police officer and New York City's Bureau of Child Welfare, we had food, a place to sleep, and stability. You would think such comforts would have made me feel safe, but I did not feel safe at all. Going to my first foster home was traumatic, because I didn't want to be in an unfamiliar place with a bunch of strange people; I wanted to be with my mother in our house. I became confused and numb. I didn't understand what was happening; all my feelings of security vanished, and I became my only friend.

Miss Fanny lived in a New York brownstone, just as we had; but unlike my family, she owned hers, and the other occupants in the building were her tenants. She opened her door and ushered us in. I entered hesitantly and walked down the long corridor while the social worker placed Keith in her arms. The living room was bright and sunny and had a television. Delighted, I immediately ran to it and looked around to see what else was in the room.

Miss Fanny's house was crowded with a lot of interesting things that were off limits. I received my orders. "Don't touch...