From the very beginning of my life, I never really had a place that I can actually call “home”. I never had a “happy home” like everyone else. The type of  “home” where kids would talk about how they have both of their parents in their life, how they would go outside to the park together, or to the movies, out to eat, and do family-like activities with each other. I never got to experience that. Unfortunately, growing up I had a broken home. A home where it was ripped into shreds and was torn into 1,000 different pieces. Each piece had its own reason as to why we weren’t considered a “happy home”. However, the biggest piece that stood out to me was because of alcohol. Alcohol was the main reason why me and my family split up. My father had a terrible addiction to alcohol. He would always drink and become drunk. Was hardly ever sober. However, some time down the line my mother decided to follow behind him. Making it worse. Slowly but surely it created an environment that quickly became very unsafe for me to be in. My life started to feel like a rollercoaster. A rollercoaster that was full of unexpected twists and turns that managed to change my life forever. Not knowing what I was about to face or get into. As a kid, I was placed into this system called “Foster Care”.  A type of system where kids of any age get taken into state custody and become placed with a state-licensed adult, who cares for the child in the place of their parent or guardian. 

Everything changed from the time that I was a year old, I was finally staying with my foster family permanently. They gave me everything that my actual parents couldn’t. They showed me what it’s like to feel loved, be appreciated, welcomed, and most importantly accepted. Accepted for who I was and for what I was dealing with. My foster mom knew that my father had an addiction. She knew that my mom was the reason for why I was being neglected and pushed aside from the very start. Nonetheless, never did she ever, not once push me aside.

My foster mom, Ms. Carol (as what everyone likes to call her) was the one who took care of me. Her placing me under her loving, sweet, and caring arms. Taking full responsibility and custody over me. Making sure that I had clothes to wear, shoes to put on, food to eat, a place to lay my head at night, and most importantly a home where I can finally feel like I can belong in. Because as a mother, it’s your job to make your child feel like they are at home. In a safe environment where no one can hurt them. It’s your job to protect them and to provide for them. Because you decided to bring them into this world, so it’s your job to take care of them when you’re supposed to. Not to leave them hanging and wanting to forget about them. Acting as if they never existed to begin with. Because if you simply just didn’t want a child, why did you decide to have one? If you knew that deep down that you weren’t ready for it? What sense would that make? 

Although my parents may not have been 100% ready for a kid. My foster family showed me what it’s like to actually be a part of a real family. Even though we may not be related to each other by blood or be biologically related towards each other, they still treated me better than my actual parents ever could. So because of this, it makes me feel beyond grateful for the things that my foster family has shown and taught to me over the years while growing up. Without them, I wouldn’t have known how to take care of myself, how to feel loved, or appreciated for being around. So I thank them all for it. They gave me the best shot at life that I could ever ask for. They taught me how to cook, to read, to write, to clean, and so much more. The best set of skills that I could ever ask for from them. 

We also talk the same, share some of our favorite words and phrases with one another. We even bond over events like having a cookout in the park or going shopping at one of our favorite malls that we haven’t been to in a while. Little things like this means a lot to us. Because we may not go out often, but when we do we definitely make the most of it. We cherish the time and the memories well spent together. You never know when it’s going to be your last time hanging out at your favorite spot with your mom or dad. So you have to make the most of it while you can. Before it’s too late. 

Even though I found my sense of place being with my foster family. New York City College of Technology is also helping me find another safe sense of belonging. This would be my first full year of college that I just completed. I’m still slowly trying to figure out where it is that I belong, but it’s still taking some getting used to. This would be my second major that I’m in which is Professional and Technical Writing. A major where I can write poetry, stories, novels, and so much more. However, as I’ve mentioned before, I’m not too sure where I belong yet. Even though I do enjoy writing poetry here and there, I’m just feeling uncertain if this is something that I’m genuinely passionate about. At first I was a part of the Computer Science major community, but after a while I kind of fell out of it. It started to become boring, something that I just simply wasn’t passionate about doing. Which led me into changing my major, resulting in how I ended up here. Although, in doing this, it led me straight here. Feeling like I don’t know where to go next or what to do. Which is still something that I’m slowly trying to figure out. However, eventually I’ll get there. It’s just simply going to take some time. 

All in all, although I may have come from and had started out by being a part of a broken home. That doesn’t mean you can’t find your sense of belonging or sense of home somewhere else. It just takes a matter of time, trusting the process, and most importantly patience. I didn’t get all the way here overnight. It definitely took me some time, however in the end I still managed to prosper. Managed to become a part of something so beautiful, unique, warm, and welcoming by my foster family. I couldn’t have done it without them, because of them sticking by my side through it all. I would have never been here. So once again, I thank them all for it. With that being said, if I can find my discourse community within my foster family. You can find your sense of belonging somewhere too. Just don’t give up.