Kibbles and Worms: A Life Lesson in a Foster Kid's Survival Story

I was eight years old and had just been placed into my first foster home, a licensed group home with ten kids.  For anyone who has been in a large family there is a

pecking order, and you don’t want to find yourself at the bottom of the hierarchy and in a foster home full of kids from different places, experiences, traumas, and challenges, the pecking order is not based on love, relationships, and friendly rivals but rather one of power and influence. This is a lesson every foster kid in a group home learns.

On the day I was placed into foster care, the social workers picked me up from school to take me on the 90-minute journey away from the home, life, and only family I ever knew. I remember turning on to the gravel road that led to the dark brown farmhouse surrounded by corn fields that I would call home for the next nine years. I stepped out of the car with a backpack that held my small number of belongings and walked up the front stairs. Feeling all the emotions – scared, nervous, alone...trying to understand why this was happening. I quickly transitioned into survival mode. How do I get through this languishing moment, how do I get through tomorrow and the next day and the next.   

It wasn’t but a few days later after being introduced to all the kids living in my new home that I found myself outside trying to fit in, make friends, figuring out where I fit in this new world.  They had a club and they wanted me to be a part of it. Phew. They wanted me to be a part of their club. But it wasn’t that easy; I had to pass a test, I had to go through initiation by doing an obstacle course in the backyard.  The backyard was filled with playground equipment; monkey bars, a slide, a metal tube to crawl through. I got through most of it; crawling through the spider infested tube full of webs, running to the slide and doing laps around the yard but I was nervous because I was a bit of a chubby kid and doing monkey bars was not in my skill set so when the last part of the obstacle course was to cross the monkey bars my heart sank; I worked so hard to keep the tears from swelling up in my eyes. I just wanted to fit in…but wait they were giving me another chance. I exhaled; it was going to be okay.  They gave me the option of the monkey bars, or I had to lick a worm and eat dog food. I didn’t have a choice, I knew I couldn’t do the monkey bars and I wanted to fit in so bad, so I took a deep breath and made my pick. 

I put the brown kibble in my

hand feeling the expectant eyes of the kids around me piercing through me; I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, raised my hand to my mouth and began to chew. I couldn’t spit it out, I had to swallow. Trying to hold back my gag reflex I swallowed it. But the torcher wasn’t over, I still had to lick the slimy earthworm. This better be the best club ever…I grabbed the worm, mucus sticking to my hands, again trying to control my gag reflex, I closed my eyes bringing the worm to my mouth a face of disgust fully visible to all the kids surrounding me and I licked the worm 5…4…3…2…1; I dropped the worm. So disgusting, I can’t believe I did it…but now I was going to be in the club; and just as I was feeling the rush of belonging, a relief to feel a part of the gang of fosters, the leader of the group looked at me with a half mean-spirited smile and said, “just kidding, there is no club.” All the kids scattered, laughing and talking amongst themselves.

I was angry and hurt, once again feeling the tears swell up in my eyes, I wasn't going to let them see me cry, I wasn’t going to give them that. All I wanted was to fit in, I just wanted to connect, kids had never been so mean, so hurtful to me before. I felt alone and scared, but I learned a lesson that day, I had to take care of myself.  No one else was going to look out for me. I knew from that moment forward I would hold my trust close; I wouldn’t let them do something like that to me again. 

Often kids experience an immense amount of trauma, abandonment, and abuse before entering the foster care system. But once entering it a child must re-learn how to navigate their social structure, learn how to interact, and figure out how to survive in their new world. Every child’s experience is different, and these events can either crush a child or make them stronger. I was lucky, this experience taught me a lesson about survival, a lesson about human nature, a lesson I would build on as I navigated my circumstances, learning to not just survive but to build the skills that have led me to healing, forgiveness and unimaginable belonging and success. 

When you’re eight years old and the world is crushing you; the moments you are living in feel like an eternity, but keep putting one foot in front of another, today will pass, tomorrow WILL come and life outside of today’s reality will unfold. Be prepared for it because the ultimate revenge is success – the ability to look back and know you conquered everyone and everything that hurt you; your life's lessons that will make up your survival story.  You are better today because of the kibble and worms, the hurt feelings, and the hard lessons you, as a foster kid, learned early on.