Greener Pastures: The Realities of Runaway Foster Youth

I was 9 years old; I had been in the system for a little over a year and the realities of my new life had settled in. It was an extremely structured life, with consequences around every corner, whether it was dish duty, time out, or being banished to my attic room, I was constantly on edge, waiting for the next punishment to come. I lived with the fear of doing something wrong and getting in trouble. I was struggling. 

My foster home was considered a “treatment foster home” and was often the last stop for kids before juvenile detention or residential lock up. I had been placed here because my older sister, who had bounced around to many foster homes for several years due to behavioral issues, had been placed here as a last stop. Therefore, when I was taken away from my mom, I was placed with her, to keep us together. So, the immense structure, strict rules, and iron consequences were necessary to shift destructive behavior of many of these kids living in this home; but as a 9-year-old in my first foster care placement, I didn’t understand that and I didn’t understand why I was in this environment, why it was so hard, and why I was so scared.

It was summer, the long stretch of time I was learning to dread, as I waited longingly for the routine and escape of school to resume. It was my second summer in foster care, and I knew how slow and painful the time would go, especially if I got in trouble. On this day, my foster parents had left us with her older and adult biological kids; I don’t recall what we did but my sister and I were in trouble and because whatever we did was done while my foster mom was gone, the consequences were going to be worse. It was going to be unbearable I remember feeling hopeless and scared, like I had nothing to lose.  

My sister turned to me and said, “let’s get out of here, we don’t want to be here when she gets back.” This seemed like a good idea at the time. So, we grabbed a couple backpacks, a few of our things and jumped on our bikes hitting the gravel road headed to the next big city 22 miles away.  We travelled the back roads for miles and miles before getting to a main highway and by then we had been at it for hours having probably traveled 12 miles, the sun was going down but we were on our way! We didn’t have a plan; we had no idea where we were going or what we were going to do when we got there. But it didn’t matter we had gotten away! 

It was dark now and we were walking our bikes along the highway when a blue wagon stopped in front of us.  A man and his daughter stepped out of the wagon and asked if they could help.  We made up a story about our mom not being able to pick us up and meeting her at the Burger King down the road, the story must have made sense because the man agreed to drive us the rest of the way.  “What’s wrong with parents these days…” slipped out of his mouth as he placed our bikes in the

back of the wagon and my sister and I got in the car. I could have never understood at 9 years old how incredibly dangerous this decision could have been. We were lucky, he dropped us off down the road at Burger King, but so much could have gone wrong.

Before leaving that day, my sister grabbed a tin with coins in it she found in my foster mom’s car, I later found out this was her father’s coin collection who had recently passed away.  We handed over a few coins to get a burger and fries and every time I think back to this memory it breaks my heart to know that we had not just taken this possession from our foster mom, but we took from her a core memory of her dad.  After eating our burgers, we sat outside the Burger King for a while before deciding we needed to keep moving, so we took our bikes and headed back down the dark busy street.  It wasn’t but a few minutes later that the police pulled us over, questioning what we were doing out alone so late and eventually took us to the police station where they processed us and placed us in a temporary foster home.  We eventually went back to the home we ran away from, facing not just the consequences from what we did before running away, but also facing the consequences from running away.  

I tell you this story because foster kids run away everyday trying to escape consequences, trying to get away from people, trying to be heard, and most importantly, trying to escape the realities of their circumstances. They are looking for greener pastures, a place imagined in their mind that is safe, easy, and away from the realities of their life.  But most of us know the pasture is rarely greener on the other side. In fact, the pasture that many foster youth find themselves in when running away result in being human trafficked or becoming homeless. According to the National Foster Care Institute, 60% of child sex trafficked kids have done some time in the foster care and the juvenile detention system. I have seen statistics as high as 70% of homeless individuals were in foster care or the juvenile detention system at some point in their childhood. There is an epidemic of foster kids who do not feel they are worthy and are lost and instead of facing their realities, they run.  

My mission is to provide the hope, inspiration, and practical tools needed to help these kids take control of their lives. To help them embrace their circumstances instead of running from them. To allow them to capitalize on their situation by identifying the resources available to assist them, and by helping them travel the path of purpose through self-improvement, growth, and effort leading them to opportunity and success. The grass doesn’t become greener until you own your circumstances and make the choice to not let it define you but to let it be the motivation to launch you into a better tomorrow. 

Contact me at hello@mandyfrench.com for more information on my coaching programs for at- risk youth, foster parents, adopted parents, and professionals. Let’s create change together.