Foster parenting an extension of First Nations' traditional ways

Page 5

In 1993, we were approached by my sister to assume custody of her youngest daughter if child welfare officials in Alberta were successful in gaining custody of her. They were, and we have now been foster parents for eight years. Since then, we have had many children in our home (both through official and unofficial apprehensions). I must admit that it has been a struggle. But it is through struggle that we learn things, and I want to share with you my reflections on what I have learned by being a foster parent.

The first thing I would mention is that most often I don't think of myself as a foster parent. The first little girl we took in is my niece. I am her uncle. When my wife and I were talking about this issue once, she mentioned that you could not say "adoption" in Ojibwe. I am guessing you can't really say it in Cree either. I also doubt that we have a word for foster parent. This is what is really meant when you hear First Nation people talking about extended family. 'Extended family' are not just words. They reflect the social and cultural practices of our people. We must live them. So when we open our home to other children we are merely trying to follow our own First Nations ways.

For the first time since having other children in our home, this January and February I took a foster parenting course in North Battleford offered by the provincial child welfare authorities. I thought I understood kids pretty well (especially since I was a foster kid myself). I went with two other people from the reserve, and the rest of the people in the class were white. When they heard the realities of foster parenting, some of them did not stay in the class. They were surprised to hear the realities of abuse, including sexual abuse. I guess I understood, or saw really clearly for the first time, the difference between our communities and the rest of the world.

When kids get taken away and are put in a foster home, it has an incredible impact on the children. They feel sad, but it's really much more complicated than that. The children feel disconnected from their place in the world. This upsets the balance that they ought to be living in. This is why the community is so important and why First Nations' child welfare agencies are so important. By keeping our children in their communities (really their extended families) we have the opportunity to lessen the dislocation that they feel when they are removed.

I learned a lot from the workshop that I attended in North Battleford. I knew a few things about looking after kids because I have done it for so long. But what I learned is that I can put all that knowledge I had learned by experience into a framework. Having this framework is helpful. It gave me an idea. Whether or not our community members are thinking of being foster parents or not, we all need to understand the present impact of removing children from their homes. We also need to understand the historic aspects of removal, as our communities have all survived residential schools and other institutions, which have removed children. If we are to be responsible to these children as communities, then we all need to have this knowledge.