This is a 100% true account of my life. This, and all the episodes that follow, will lead you through the world of abuse I have endured. This is my personal story of struggle and triumph. If you are weak, sensitive, or faint of heart please avoid this story.
Dedication : Chapter 4 is dedicated to Nooney! I was going to give up writing since no one has shown an interest, till you pushed me, Thanks!
Foreword: This chapter will explore the Foster care system. I spent a lot of time over the years dealing with the courts begging them to keep me from my mother, no one listened.
Foster Care Placements
As I have previously stated my first foster home was when I was around 5. Arizona took it seriously and removed me from her. Unfortunately they had no court orders back then and I was quickly removed from there by the person who put me there.
Over the years I would have many foster homes. Some were good, but some were nearly as bad as being at home with my mother. After that first foster home I remember we came back to California to my father. He was working in long beach. This time my father had a great job, making good money, and a car. This is also where I learned video games were my friend. I had a lot of skill with them from the first time I put a quarter in Pac-man. My father bought us an Atari 2600, our first home game system, with 3 games (Pac-man, Smurfs, and Video Pinball). My mother ended up kicking my ass over the pinball game because 1 turn would last me an hour where as they would take a turn in 5 minutes. This was my second time she had really beaten me, and I was sent back to foster care.
This time I went first to a place called Maclaren hall (later named Maclaren children center) in El Monte California. This was a semi-prison for children waiting for foster care. During this first stay I was slammed into a wall by a counselor, my arm was dislocated, and I was left for nearly 12 hours in solitary confinement with the arm dislocated. When they changed shifts the next morning I was released and sent to school where the teacher noticed my hand and arm were blue. They rushed me to the hospital and reset the arm.
To this day my rotator cup comes out when it is slightly pushed back and held there (such as hand cuffs). This was supposed to be a protected environment for us, and instead the counselors were nearly as abusive as those we were supposed to be protected from. During my 3 months there I escaped twice. Both times I was return there by L.A.P.D and the abuse continued. I was there for my 8th birthday and no one noticed.
This article explains the closure of this horrid place, too late to save me.
Eventually they returned me home to my mother. After the abuse that I endured there I was glad to be home. This happiness was soon beaten out of me, but I refused to say anything because I didn’t want to go back to Maclaren. I took the abuse till I was almost 11, then my mother again sent me to the hospital for “attacking her” and they stuck me back in Maclaren.
This time, because I was a pre-teen, I was put into the Jr. Boys Dorm. It was a little nicer then the kid dorms because we had a widescreen T.V., a ping pong table, a pool table, and a door directly to the yard. The staff was bigger though, and a lot more mean. We had one guy named Frazier that was huge, black, and vicious. He once threw the widescreen TV over just to emphasis his point. After breaking our T.V. he promptly beat the kid who had made him mad. The entire dorm went on lock down, which meant that we were supposed to be in our rooms, or beds (if we lived in the hallways) and quiet. Unfortunately 99% of the dorm decided to scream “fuck the potato” which was Frazier’s nickname by us. The riot that happened afterwards was hilarious and scary. In the end a lot of the children were severely beaten. The report never mentioned the bruises and cuts that were mostly minor. The real damage was done to our already abused psyches.
The only good thing that ever came out of Maclaren was Star Day! Once a year they would give us new shoes, Nike donated, and the top stars of the time would come and they would throw a carnival of sorts. They had games, with prizes, and we would be allowed to talk to famous people, get autographs, and get our pictures taken. This year they handed out new Jeans as well. I met Solei Moon fry (Punky Brewster) who I had a great big crush on. She was a snob and that crush ended badly. I also met Sylvester Stallone (Rambo) that year as well. The games were great, but the next day all prizes and the shoes were taken from us by staff. They did a complete search that left us sitting in our underwear outside for nearly 4 hours. What was the point?
From there I went to a group home in Fontana California called Mt. Jurupa home for boys. There were 4 bedrooms, 2 boys per room, a living room, a kitchen, a den (with a pool table), and the house Parents house. There was a man and woman who lived on the property and worked 5 out of 7 days. Then we had 2 others come in on the other 2 days.
I went to some of my Jr. High here. I was there about 6 months, was robbed, beaten, and even raped once. The foster parents didn’t listen to me when I went to them and begged for help, and in the end my eyebrow was busted open, I was forced to commit oral on an older kid, and when I refused he and his friends tied me to my bed so he could rape me. He was removed from the care facility and placed in another. No charges were ever brought against him. Neither was the kid prosecuted who sent me to the hospital for stitches.
My father finally got me removed from that home and placed back in Maclaren. A few weeks later the courts returned me to my mom. The abuse started again within hours.
My next foster home would be when I was 12. Don and Judy were the perfect foster parents. They had a Coleco vision, a soda machine in the living room, and they got me into the school I finally graduated from Jr. High at; Thomas Jefferson Jr. High in San Gabriel California. Don and Judy was Christian, and I went to youth church with them. We had several dogs and 2 cats. And best of all I had an older brother named Scott. Don and Judy took us to Magic Mountain, where I won a stuffed bear (named Little Scott), road my first rollercoaster, and everything was great for the first time in my life.
Unfortunately I was really screwed up then. I stole from the school chocolate drive, which Judy had to pay for (out of my allowance). They grounded me for a week for that. It was the first time I had ever been punished that didn’t include a wall, broom, dish, or something smashing into my head. It hurt even more to be honest but it was done from love. Don and Judy were one of the few positive memories I have form my childhood. I miss them and think of them often, even today.
This home came to an end after graduation and I was sent home again. More abuse for the next 3 years and then another foster home. This time I didn’t go straight to Maclaren. And this time the setting was different. I had met my first girlfriend. Kenya was 14, and I was 16. We met at Roosevelt Swimming pool in Watts California. She was gorgeous, and for 14 she was stacked. My mother and father hated her. She was my first sexual partner as well, and because she was African American my father hated me going to watts to see her. My mother had attacked me again the night before so I escaped through my window and ran away to her house.
I spent 2 weeks with her and her family before my best friend David’s family sent me a taxi to come to their house. A week later I was back in foster care. The first few weeks I was in a care facility near Eagle Rock California then I was back into Maclaren. Sr. Boys was nicer still. The staff was smaller them most of us this time, except me, and so there was less violence. I was only there a month this time. Even though they had added a GAP, that you could earn points to buy stuff this time, my memories of the past kept me from enjoying it. Project Six group homes were there to interview me a few weeks after I got there. They took me out of there and for the next nearly 1 ½ years I was in the beautiful San Fernando Valley. The foundation that ran it, new school for child development, was headed by a Dr. Firestone and she was wonderful. I met Michael Milken (He headed our math club), Michael Jackson (We toured neverland ranch), and several other famous people who helped out around from time to time. I was also diagnosed as Bi-Polar in this school, we all went to counseling. And I met a lot of wonderful misfits just like me. I felt so at home. I did wood shop, played basketball and football, and even some softball. I met a wonderful girl named Jessie who I had a lot of fun hanging out with, and for a time I forgot about the horrid past. It ended just before my 18th birthday when a wonderful judge in Van Nuys decided I should be returned home to my mother for a 6 month probationary period. This period ended after my Birthday and was the cause of the worst attack my mother ever did on me. But that is another story for another time.