Jazz Blog: Unconditional Love

The mother how had unconditional love for her girl but could not cope.

When I was first born I had some problems but we are not saw what. my mum
love me so much but could not cope because her mum had bereavement when my grandad died when he was 28. he was a fishmon ad he got kill by a bom at sea ad thats wear my famley trubble started.

then my mum got older ad get put in a children home ad she got sexley abrust. then she was home less ad she met dad ad it’s a bit of a weird one because he was a older man ad he had 4 kids.
he was in the army but then his wife died and then got with my mum. then they had my big Bro Michael and he died at berth. then Justin then one more miss caridge then me then my little brother Freddie. she found it hard because she had three kids 1 3 yearold 1 2 year old 1 year old ad she us to hit me ad I seam to rember her shouting at me then she was all over me ad it was a bit of a head fuck er.

Then I got put in to fosta home seprut to my brothers ad then mummy bear came ad then when I was 8 I got rey a nightid with my mum ad dad. then when I was 19 dad died ad I blame my mum because she was not very nice to my dad. well that how I fell ad now I have day dreams of killing her ad how nice that would fell like but then I fell so much love for her.

I some times fell that I wish it was my mum dead not dad I very very angry with her but I I’m a mums boy ad I fell so angry ad hate her so much because I us to get the shit end of the stick ad then she would be all sorry then angry again ad it’s left me not trust in her. ad skerd of her ad some time shit my self it might all kick off again.

this I think is what she thinks hey jazz i so sorry I love you I just had a shit time in my live I would not hert u u are my number one. ad this me think well its to late u stupid cow u should fort about that in the first place it’s to late I’m not for giving I wish you wear dead. mummy bear is my mum now u had your chance fuck of ad out of my live then I think no give her a chance I love her to much.
But mummy bear is my mum no one els.

This song is like how I feel

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Ra-Om7UMSJc

Attachment Taboo’s

MUMS THOUGHTS

From the early days of meeting Jazz I tried to work with my instinct as a parent figure rather than with prescribed traditional parenting methods (I knew little of attachment theory back then).

My approach included following her lead and ‘playing babies’ with nappies and bottles despite her being five years old. It also included using water as a regulator and calming tool. In the beginnings of our placement together she was terrified and ‘high’ and she would seek immersion in water up to five times a day.

Once some trust had been built up between us we began to have more close interactions which included cuddling in bed and on the sofa as well as having baths together. Jazz loved skin to skin cuddles, especially in water. She also loved going camping and running about the woods in her pants. In fact her preferred state at all times was to be in her pants wherever we were. One of the key reasons for school exclusion was her desire to be free of clothes at playtime. I clearly remember her absolute upset and confusion when I had to stop her being in just shorts and pants on beaches and in public as her breasts developed. She couldn’t understand the difference between a French and UK beach in regards to nakedness. The talk I had to have about adults who found children sexually attractive totally freaked her out.

We recently made a documentary about our lives to use as a training tool for adoption support professionals in education and at conference. There was little family footage of the early years (up to about 8 years old) where Jazz was not happily dancing about or playing in her pants or swimsuit. As a result some of that innocent footage is featured. I shared it with an academic whom I thought may be interested in the support issues it raised. Despite researching and writing about adoption support this persons main feedback concern was that the film may be attractive to paedophiles. This reaction sadly symbolises the culture we live in.

Jazz often talks of her favourite memory in foster care. Every Sunday morning her foster carers would allow her to jump into their bed with them and have tea and biscuits in her pyjamas. She was aware that they were not really supposed to do it but described it in a funny and warm way. It symbolised love and fun and family. Every week the carers would feign pretend shock at the amount of crumbs she had caused. I’m sure that they would have been in trouble had the social worker known and despite sharing the information with me, describing her need for closeness, they asked me not to repeat it to her social worker. I can understand the risk averse rules of fostering but I didn’t expect to face concern about such issues in my own home.

As Jazz became older concern was often expressed in front of her about us sharing a bed. It was if it were weird and somehow a bit unsavoury. This would regularly be put to her by social workers in care planning and support meetings ‘aren’t you a bit old to share with mum’. The inference was clear to her. She was babyish and I was potentially ‘strange’. Maybe even one of those unsafe adults I had told her about.

After such meetings she would be really angry and aggressive and refuse close comforting of any kind until she became so deregulated that she couldn’t achieve anything. On being persuaded it was ok and safe to share with me for a night her anxiety would drop immediately, she would become happy and life would return to normal, until the next time. Close cuddling and sharing a bed was the number one therapeutic miracle cure for just about everything.

We are a culture that separates ourselves to sleep. Adult bedrooms are often portrayed as places for sexual intimacy. The riches of the West make it possible in many families for every household member to have their own bedroom (along with TV). In Jazz’s family home her parents and their children would all sleep in the living room together as the house was so small.

As she became a teenager and the professional pressure for us to physically separate became greater I set up a mattress on my bedroom floor for the difficult times. If she could just hear my breathing it regulated her. Even this was considered by professionals as in some way dangerous and anti attachment. The implication was that I was at best encouraging an insecure attachment. The point that the attachments still needed much work, that this teenager was still catching up, was missed.

It is considered ok and actually desirable to have skin to skin contact with a young baby. A recent story about it went viral on social media. A baby that was ‘stillborn’ miraculously came to life after it’s parents both got naked and cuddled it in the hospital bed.

It seems sad to me that we now live in a culture that perceives close physical contact with children and especially young people as such a risk and even a taboo. I understand that if a child has a history of physical or sexual abuse against them this is a very delicate issue. I also know however, of abused children regularly physically restrained in institutions. Children whose background of holding or touch would have been negative in the extreme. It seems ok to physically intervene in a punitive intervention with such children but not in a loving way. Jazz’s brother certainly suffered under the ‘no physical contact’ culture in his children’s home. Living there from 6 years old to thirteen nobody had shown him how to clean himself properly nor hugged him when he was frightened or hurt. His average face down physical restraint frequency was at one time 11 per week.

Im not sure of all the answers on how to safely promote physical closeness as an aid to healthy attachment. I know a small minority of foster carers and adopters will be sexual abusers as will birth parents and care workers in children’s homes. We live in shocking times where we are discovering that respected leaders and public figures are potentially covering up a huge and disgusting sexual abuse scandal.

I really hope that as therapeutic parents and carers to traumatised children and young people we can be encouraged and supported, where appropriate, to physically and safely hold and comfort them in every day as well as in times of crisis. That this can be valued as part of healthy attachment and that the bloody perverts don’t win the day.

JAZZ THOUGHTS

When I was a new born I us to shear with my bros our daddy and mum. Then when I got fostered I us to on a weekend jump in with my foster mum ad my dad went down stairs ad get me a bottle ad biscuits.

when mummy bear adopted me we use to play babies because we treat me as a new born to build trust and bond. We shred a bed a lot for years but when I teen the Ss us to say don’t u think your a bit old to be doing that kind of thing. It us to drive me mad ad then I wouldn’t shear for ages until I was driving my self mad and then I would.

to this day I love it and would do it with all my sport workers but I no I can’t.

ad the same on skin to skin. Why do I like it? Because even tho I can’t remember my body can. My berth mum did ad my dad. Some one else’s hart beat is so soothing to me ad I feel the skin to mine. It like when a dog acts in the world as wolfs it a very comfortable place for them to be in ad when they do it’s a massive trust step. Ad it’s like that for me.

when you are trusting them to be on your tummy or back or chest or wear ever. I like the feeling of that.

why do I like searing a bed? Because I all ways sleep with no top on so it’s skin to skin and I sear with mum it calms me down and it really charging the barteery. So if I on 50% it’s quite bad ad usually it cart get eny lower than that but it can if I really stress out. But what we are aming for is 100% if not more.

When I am very anxious or angry it sets me up for a good week and make me feel mums there until she comes back.

The Teenager Who Felt Nothing But Scared

When I was a teenager I fell like no one was thear for me and I felt out of control and like I was going to kill some one because I would kick and punch and throw the glass at people and put windows threw and kick doors and it did tack some times for mummy bear to go to ANE with quite bad war wunds and some times I hurt my self by cutting and biting.

No one understand and I was in the big dark hole ad I could see the light at end of the hole and it felt like I was on herowin and I loved my mum very much ad I felt like I was tiring her heart out. when I felt I was doing that it broke my heart because she was the oley one how understand me and she was thear for me but when I us to get angry I hold breath ad felt like my hart was going fast and I was missing some think. I was having rally bad dreams ad I hate school ad I felt every one tort I was a freak and I was the kid how every one won’t to avoid me ad I us to cry when I went to bed because I just won’t I’d to be a person who was nomel ad I hate that word.

Now I fell more love for my mum than ever because I can see the light ad now I don’t get angry because I go and listen to London Grammer or go and see my rats ad ginny pigs and rabbits and it mack me fell worth some think and it mack me fell like I’m very lucky ad I rally like it when I can be close to people.

the closer I am the better because of the heat ad the breething cams me down and that I just cry. it’s not easy for me to cry because I don’t fell able to cry because I fell like I’m a wimp. I rally like skin to skin because I see that like I’m hear for u and don’t worry you r someone and no one thinks your a freak. if it’s was up to me I would do the safe hold skin to skin because I fell safe in it like that but I no its not aprpriat.

I have bursts of betting them up ad calling them hobble names ad when they do the safe hold I like it because I no thear thear ad I’m safe but I can get quite a gresive but I no its all going to be ok and now we don’t have to do the safe hold much. when I do get angry and do crave self harming because it gives u a burst of e adrenalin rush ad I do crave drugs ad vodka ad some times when they have been triggers I fell more sex up and macho.

but now I fell more protective over my guys and less angry and I don’t like people getting in trouble and I’m more quite and shy and more orkwoukd and pease full. Mum says I am a good guy.

Training And Trains Of Thought

I booked myself onto an intensive training course with attachment guru Dan Hughes earlier this year. It was not cheap and I needed most of the year to save up for it despite the deposit being given as a birthday present from my parents. The course was level 1 in Dyadic Developmental Psychology, DDP for short. The therapeutic model was created by Dan to work with children and young people who have attachment issues and trauma related symptoms. The therapy is particularly used with fostered and adopted children who have experienced traumatic loss and/or neglect and abuse. The therapy, unlike others believes in forming an authentic relationship with clients and their families or main carers. At its core is PACE: playfulness, acceptance, curiosity, empathy. I think it’s a great parenting model for all children.

Jazz and I were involved in this therapy for many years and I whole heartedly believe in it. It was the only intervention that felt humane, positive and meaningful. We just didn’t get enough of it due to lack of LA/Health financial commitment.
My motivation for going on the course was not to become a therapist in DDP but to focus my experience and gain further expertise as a charity worker. I also want to continue to support my daughter who did not suddenly become ‘cured’ of trauma issues aged 18 when funding for the therapy ended at the stroke of midnight on her birthday.

The course has been taking place this week and I finished it on Thursday. Clutching my certificate and with a head full of learning I wended my way back home to reflect on what I had taken from it.

I have always had a heathy cynicism about the ability of therapy to cure trauma symptoms and of course my opinions of this didn’t change over the week. I still believe trauma has to be lived with and strategies for families to cope independently are what can be encouraged and developed within this style of attachment therapy.

There were 31 people on the course and I was the only person present who was a parent to a traumatised child rather than a therapist or practitioner in children’s services. This gave me quite a different perspective than the other trainees. It made me acutely aware of the use of language during discussions as well as the positions workers are in when supporting families. A great group of open minded and willing people didn’t mean that the overall care culture of the parent being less expert did not creep in and show itself. Quite a bit of innocent but disempowering suggestion during exercises and dialogue that parents might not quite understand the reasons behind behaviour in the way a therapist or ‘professional’ automatically would.

I found the many clips of therapy sessions bought tears to my eyes in ways they couldn’t to other people. That in the role plays (I still hate role play!) it meant I could easily slip into parent and child role but found myself disassociated when I was the therapist. I also learnt I was better at being an active problem solver than a more passive listener. Which is not always a good thing. I found Dan to be a true therapeutic master when watching him work with families

Many of the trainees found practising the therapy methods all day exhausting even with coffee and lunch breaks. It was nothing compared to practising it for real every day, day in, day out for years.

Having been fighting for years as a parent and more recently as a charity worker to have the voices of children and parents heard in equal status to professionals and politicians it gave me great hope to hear that Dan Hughes was potentially ‘on our side’. He proved this to me in part by using The Open Nest ‘Severance’ film as part of the training. He says he plans to use it again as he felt it showed services the direct results of not supporting families, both birth and adoptive from the start. We hope he does.

My overall conclusions were these:

1. Many therapists in the UK and within CAMHS work with models that are in potential opposition with the principles of DDP. This in turn means they work in ways that do not help adoptive families and can even damage them.

2. Social workers wanting to support families post adoption and in ways which take on principles of DDP and PACE will not necessarily get backing from LA management or the DfE, nor the budget and supervision needed to be supported in ways a therapist would.

3. There are still worrying gaps in professional knowledge around what life is really like at times for adopted children and their families. This extends to a more dangerous blaming of parents if children express trauma through behavioural problems. The Government funded research by Julie Selwyn that highlighted issues in adoption is not commonly heard of, even by adoption social workers! I think the Government are hugely selective in which adoption stats they focus on.

4. DDP therapy can potentially turn lives around but the access to both practicing it and receiving it is restricted and exclusive due to the costs involved.

5. To teach a parent and child to communicate well in the presence of trauma and to encourage healthy attachment styles in therapy sessions is a wonderful goal. It can be transformative. For a parent and child to sign up for this and commit to it is empowering and supportive for all. When that parent and child then receive opposing thinking and practice outside the therapy, in schools, health services etc, it is devastating and completely undermines the work done by the therapy. It is confusing and anger provoking for children who do not understand budgets, systems and agendas.

6. I am more convinced than ever that the current Government needed and still needs to prioritise funding to change the culture and practice around adoption and the language and rhetoric it takes place within, before it spends money on recruitment and the marketing of a system not yet fully fit for purpose.

7. If supporting traumatised children truly is your passion as a trainer, therapist, social worker, charity boss, MP or parent you should give your time and expertise as generously as you possibly can. Give free and subsidised places on your courses, give your knowledge and information to as many people as possible for free, fight your managers to gain meaningful support for families and yourself even if it makes you unpopular, write to your MP, lobby parliament, form support groups, take part in activism, hang on in there for your children against the odds.

8. If money has to be involved in your passion to support children it is always possible to make it truly fair trade.

My Name Is Jazz: Adopted and With Support Workers

When I was little I didn’t fell as angry about it as I do now. why do I fell angry about been adopted and having sport workers now? because I sometimes rally angry with my berth mum because I felt she could of done a lot more than she did and try’s hard than she did and I went 2 lots of foster home and then mummy bear came.

And I love her a lot but I rally do crave my berth family because I sometimes fell like I got rejected and my mum Dislike me and I was the worst kid in the would and I sum times think would the boys my bros would had a mum and dad if i wasn’t born but then mummy bear would ent off had me and all my sport workers and my 5 best mates Emma Erin Johnny Andi kris Kat but I fell when I go out with my sport workers its obvious because of the why I look and act and I rally dislike that and what macks it more obvious is when mummy bear and berth mum and me are out its obvious because is Bracingly obvious that I’m not mummy bears because I look like my berth mum and when I with my berth mum in town Its rally embarrasses me because it’s herts because I rally won’t 2 be down with the kids and just herts because I’m not and its her she is a FUCKING failure and if she tried harder I wouldnt be in the torn felling.

I love mummy bear so much but I just won’t 2 walk down the street with out felling its obvious that I’m adopted or I’ve got a disorder. I love my bros so much and I’m a bit sick off not seeing them every day. I want to fell like we a Normal family. with my sport workers I like the young ones so it look like we r a big gang off dudes and I rally won’t a boyfriend how loves me and will Treat me right or a girl and I will do that back four them. But then I look on the bright side off live and think I’m rally lucky That I’m not in children’s home with no one or in prison or a drug addict or a Nasty person

The end

My Name Is Jazz: Triggers

So we call the things what set me off triggers and that anger is what we call the volcan over flowing

And what kind off things set me off r things like having flash backs seeing blood or clowns dreaming about my berth dad and seeing him as a clown or like I see him in the war or in danger and I cart save him because I haven’t got the power and he dies agin and agin and then he jump it’s at me as a clown and then I wack up in a fall mood which macks uther people mad with me and it a fishus sercull.

I keep it in and then I’m getting more and more angry as the day gets on then say we go out and I get even more trigger off then I will get home and start walking a round like a chimp

And then say sum one says sum think like just get a grip or macks lots of banning noise when cooking and I flip and start lasing out
And hitting or kikking them or spitting at them and I cart cam down for a long time.

If they say if don’t stop your phone or Xbox or lapping is not happing for a month that just winds me more and more and gets me more pisst off.

after I cam down we talk about the triggers and try 2 fix them but we all wound preface me to talk 2 them about the triggers frest and then the doors to the dogs can get un look and dogs cum out and we try 2 settle down but don’t get me rong it can tack 2 big kik offs 2 cam down but at the end off the day I don’t rally get angry much anymore because I talk about my fellings more and try not 2 let bad dreams get 2 me but sum times I cart and I fell rally said and hert and If peppel have also got angry facets when I moody it macks me fell even wers and it just winds me even more

I like to play lound music to get my anger out.

 

😳😳😳😳😳

 

 

Kafkaesque Doesn’t Come Close

My heads been spinning of late. Trying to make sense of the relentless assault on the psyche of hearing of the abuse of children on a mass scale. Abuse going unchallenged at best and colluded with at worst. Some of this perpetrated by people in public positions of power and professional authority. Lots of it against children in the care of local authorities.

At the same time I am unpicking the family history of my adopted daughter.
At the point of being matched with her fifteen years ago I was given scant information about her family (This only featured her mum and dad as if any extended family was irrelevant). The picture delivered was not pretty. Negligence, domestic violence, dirt and chaos. I was advised to steer clear of their home town and be vigilant in avoiding other places they may be.

Despite this I chose to find her family three years into our adoption. I needed to know the backstory myself. Hear it with my own ears. I wanted to know more of her culture and heritage and of her wider family. My intention was to build a bridge between her past and present that she could cross at some future time should she ever wish to. Also to gain any information that would help me understand and parent her better.

I found her mum. A woman who had been abused as a child by an extended family member following the loss of her father in a tragic accident. Groomed and trained to comply. Further abused by predatory men until, on showing signs of ‘challenging’ behaviour, being put into local authority care as a young ‘aggressive’ teenager. Once in a place of supposed safety she was systematically abused by a care home staff member. When she reported it no action was taken. It happened to her friends as well. She bears a scar on her hand. It came from running away from ‘the man’ after a swimming session. Trying to find safety behind a locked changing room door. She slipped and cut her hand deeply on a glazed tile.
Her learning difficulty remained undiagnosed by her corporate parents.

On leaving care, now estranged from her birth family, she lived in the dark world of street life, alcohol abuse and violence. Usually against her. Eventually in her thirties she met the children’s father. A gentle but stubborn older man. A father figure who in her words ‘never once retaliated no matter what mean things I did to him’.

Of course she knew nothing of safe care, of domestic skills, of attachment, nurturing and trust. It was almost inevitable that she would fail as a ‘good’ mother. Three children permanently removed aged 7, 5 and 4. No contact granted. Taken by the same authority that had been her failing corporate parent.

Two adopted. One in local authority care miles away from home. The one in care first experienced sexual abuse at around 10 years old. The two adopted ones struggled with anxiety and attachment within systems that failed to understand and support them properly despite their adoptive parents greatest efforts. Both at some time coming into the child protection, mental health or criminal justice system.

I personally have had my parenting techniques criticised, had untruths about me and my daughter put in social services files, have seen lies being told in multi agency meetings and attempts at cover ups around bad practice. This against the back drop of adopting a child whose parents couldn’t cope and a system that judged them incapable of change. Many foster carers and adopters will recognise this horrible transformation from the being ‘the solution’ for a child to being held up as ‘the problem’. It really is quite kafkaesque. You wouldn’t believe it if you hadn’t been there. I know many adopters and foster carers who are seriously unimpressed with the systems of family support for children in need. I know others whose family lives have been devastated. This helps us see more easily the situation birth parents may have been in. The irony of this brings me back round to the bigger picture of child protection and where we are now in the UK.

Legislation has recently been passed, right under our noses, to make the corporate parent more powerful and the rights of families and kinship relationships further diminished. To put it crudely and in laymen’s terms, it’s a ‘whip them out quick before the damage is done’ approach. There are brain scans to provide the science bit. This simplistic picture is easy to sell to the general public via a muzzled press. To argue that leaving children in potentially abusive family situations is in any way ok, leaves one open to severe criticism. Social workers are easy scapegoats when a tragedy happens, making their job almost impossible. Either dangerous ‘lefty’ incompetents or over zealous despot child snatchers. These directly opposing stereotypes feed well into the rhetoric of child protection and privatisation. G4S a massive profit driven and seemingly unwieldy corporation now have children’s homes. An adopted young person I know of currently has a G4S tag on for displaying anxiety driven risky behaviour. This is linked to his past experiences of neglect. During his time as an adopted child he has not received therapeutic support.
The tagging box within the family home is faulty and wrongly shows him breaking his conditions. He will attend court for this ‘breach’. His adoptive parents are now fraught with anxiety themselves, fearful he may end up in a young offenders unit (no doubt run by a private security company).

What’s missing for me in this hot bed of double standards is any powerful public action, outrage, or meaningful legislation on what should happen to children in this country following removal from struggling, negligent or abusive parents. I’ve seen more general public outcry about the death of dogs in Manchester this week than I have about the rights of children in care.

One child taken into care every twenty minutes in the UK. Nearly 70,000 children in the care of local authorities at any one time. Multiple foster placements, children’s homes and in a small number of cases adoption. In many removals is the severance from roots, culture and history on a grand scale. At the point of removal the voice of the child’s family is muted. The child is most often rendered voiceless. How many parents of the abused girls in Rotherham tried to highlight and report what was happening? Somehow nobody in power or authority knew?

When things do go horribly wrong there’s no great child protection rush to prosecute and remove corporate perpetrators of neglect from powerful positions. Instead we have to watch long, expensive and protracted enquiries often led and managed by establishment figures from the very systems at fault. Many big charities gain funding and wages from attending special boards and think tank exercises. Paid to talk about ‘it’.

I know good quality care where it exists can save and transform lives and that many children in care go on to succeed and thrive having been removed from their parents. But the point is very many don’t. The scale and acceptance of child neglect and inequality of service to those in care by corporate parents is almost beyond belief. I find it full of hypocrisy and injustice. It also does absolutely nothing to stop cycles of failure. Many mothers who lose their children were once removed children themselves. One has to question what went on in between.

To me it’s a worse crime that a corporate parent neglects a child than its own family. Corporate parents have resources, power and influence, unlike many families. If you remove a child from its family surely everything should be done to manage that loss. Public money should be thrown at it without question. Excellent standards of care across the board, in health, education and social care should ensure a real second chance at a safe and happy childhood. To do otherwise, to make profit out of that loss, to underfund and undermine frontline carers in social work, fostering and adoption, to see child victims of neglect and abuse as in anyway deviant or unworthy of equality is inexcusable, especially in a country that politically views thousands and thousands of families as incapable of receiving interventions to keep them together.

(Permission is given and actively encouraged by my family including wider adoptive family to tell the truth of our shared history)

Jazz Blog: The Joy Of Smells

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The joy of smells but it can mack me fell fuck up.

My fav smell is mummy bear and it makes me fell that every thing is going to be okay and I’m safe. when my sport workers come I no when they coming by their smell. so say like when Kat gets hear and say I’m in my room I will smell her and that smell makes me very very existed and makes me fell happy and giddy and like I’m going to wet my self out of giddiness. if Kris’s here and I smell her and that makes me fell giddy and all so makes me fell very safe. when Andi is here that give me flash backs to when he use to hold me as a kid. When clads here that makes me fell all cute and I no then that clads is here and that means that it’s okay and I fell like I’m loved. say if u put sum think over my eyes so I cart see I will Abel to smell who is next to me and if they change the smell of that person I rally don’t like it because it makes me fell like they are not the person I no and not familiar and I don’t no them but my brain is saying u do but my nose isn’t And it brushes me off and makes me fell angry and that they don’t love me or kear about me. My smell makes me fell safe and sum time cross because I sum times get so existed I wet my self and that give me flash back from bean a baby. if mum says who’s is the top or jumper etc I will say who it belongs to. Even when I only no them for 10 mins I get attached to there smell in seconds and I like to share my stuff with them because when they have gone I put it on and it macks me fell safe and it reasores me that they are still here even tho u cart see them. if they go on holiday I won’t wash my jumper or what eaver they have toch because there smell go starte on to it and I no that seams mad but that’s what macks me fell safe.
I’m bloody mad lol
😳😳😳😳😳

 

Developing Community Awareness As A Charity

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In the process of developing our charity The Open Nest over the past eighteen months we have had to consider what our longterm aims and intentions are to be. What did good adoption support to families in crisis mean to us as a group of trustees?
We knew it meant many obvious things like therapeutic input, expert school support and regular short breaks, but we also knew that adoptees and adopters first needed true acknowledgement of their stories in order to be offered the correct support.

My immediate research focus a year ago, having survived a near adoption breakdown and the intense parenting of a child with severe attachment disorder and developmental delay, was to raise awareness. I had felt so isolated and stuck in a cycle of seeking non existent help. I wanted to speak out and find a way as a charity to tell ours and others stories.

I had watched and got frustrated over fifteen years at how little some of the big players in adoption policy forming and support had achieved in giving families such as ours a valid voice. A voice that wasn’t hidden in consultation rooms, select committees, university research papers or the odd shock horror ‘violent adopted child injures poor parent’ feature.

As a minority group being acknowledged at all, even if a bit behind the scenes, is better than nothing. But then sometimes it’s not. Sometimes the denial of the whole truth of your existence makes things a lot worse. It means our stories are stifled and unable to become normalised enough to be accepted in the mainstream community. The effects of this is that well meaning folk who are teaching, practicing medicine, doing social work and doing our assessments, can’t recognise what attachment and trauma stuff, looks, feels and sounds like. Well meaning ignorance can be dangerous. It leads to adopters being perceived as failing or to blame for their child’s struggles. This in turn makes seeking help from professionals fraught and very unhelpful for either side. The adoptees basic human rights to support are often completely lost in this structural failure.

It’s not easy to describe supporting a child with serious anxiety and mental health issues around loss and fear. Some of it is ugly and scary and profoundly sad. As parents we can sometimes present as negative and irritable. This is because we are doing an intensive care job without a managed structure of support or supervision and mostly without a break. We are often scared. If you listen carefully and for long enough to hear us properly through the strains of pent up desperation, you will hear something important to modern adoption in the UK.
Many of us are filled with love, commitment and fierce protection of our children. Despite the difficulties we are inspired and improved by our children and their will to want to succeed. We are the ones most aware of the potential within our children (and sometimes their birth families) if given the right support. As such, it is heartbreaking not seeing your child thrive and your plans for nurturing them turn into basic survival and damage limitation.

I have spoken to lots of struggling adoptive parents over this last year and there is a theme that runs through the very individual and different stories. The parents want the best for their children whom they love but are seriously frightened that without the correct help they may lose them. The irony of their children facing the potential loss of two families in their childhoods is not lost on them. These particular thoughts used to keep me awake at night paralysed with fear. During those times I often thought of my daughters mother and realised something we may have in common. Struggling within our family to the extent we think social services might come and take our child away from our home and family rather than fully and meaningfully support us. I often wondered how that would be explained to my child when she was grown up:

“Your first family were not able to keep you safe. Your emotional and developmental needs were not being met. We tried everything to help them but they could not accept or work with our interventions and were not cooperative. We removed you for your own safety under child protection guidelines.
Then your second family were not able to keep you safe. Your emotional and developmental needs were not being met. We tried everything to help them but they could not accept or work with our interventions and were not cooperative. We removed you for your own safety under child protection guidelines.”

Knowing her as I do, she would definitely blame herself. She’s super bright despite the labels attached to get her through the system. She understands systems and complexity. But as default she ultimately blames herself when she can’t see the honest responsible adult.

I would of course have explained to her in detail that it was certainly not her fault. I would answer the many “why”? questions and find myself blaming the social services or the government or her mother or culture or society, or our family, or a mixture of them all which I guess is about near the truth.

So with all that in mind our first works as a charity have been aimed at awareness raising. For adoption support to be relevant, effective and empathic it takes adoptive families who struggle to share information with both policy makers but also importantly to support charities and a wider society.

We plan to use the mediums of film, written word, spoken word, photography, animation and artwork to tell our stories in a way that is fresh, new and accessible to all. Some of our productions are hard hitting in the sense that they address difficult truths but they are also dignified, positive, without blame and delivered with great hope for change. Slowly but surely.

We welcome all families and individuals touched by adoption to contact us if they wish to work with us on any of our future projects. We are currently accepting ideas, photographs, films and artworks on themes of loss/trauma for our travelling exhibition ‘Severance’ which is booked to be shown in The University of Sunderland Art Gallery in September 2014 and then at Family Futures in London in November 2014. We are also negotiating future bookings in Leeds and Newcastle.

For further information please email us at info@theopennest.co.uk

 

 

My Name Is Jazz: Attachment And Security

Mummy bear is my bestis right hand girl
When I was a baby I was left quite a lot and if I’m left even for a mint now I panic and it gives me flash backs to mum leaving and fell like no one cares and they going to die or get mederd are hert them self and then I get silly and lash out and I chew a lot and say things I don’t men. my mummy bear is my life and she is like my body when I hear her Harte beet and I smell her it makes me fell safe and can be carm and my self and not fell pankey and I think some times wen I’m without mum I fell more like a tuff guy and I have to bee.

I rally don’t like Monday whenday Thursday firday because I don’t Like been in my own
And pitkley on a Monday because I fell more a wake and uther peppel are a wake and that pankis me because I fell temted to to wake them up and jump in with them because I love to fell uther pepels Harte beets and Abel to smell them and I’ve allwhys loved skin to skin baskley u could hold hands or head to head or bum to bum or leg to leg but it could be clashed as unappropriet and I hate I cart be clouse to peppel but the number one person I love to do that with is my best mate Erin or mum or my dog coco she is my staffie.

image

Wen mum is not hear my chest berns and it feel like a grate big war wood and when I see her it goes. she is like my drug like some peppel like weed or codeine or herring and when she is not hear I crafe her like I don’t no what so I chew more say and say things I don’t mean a some time atack peppel wich is mean but I some time crafing the moment with my mum I will just do Ey thing to see her she Is my right hand man and she is my onley person I would tell Ey thing to and I will have no shame of telling when it’s to do with some think rally bad and she is the oley person I don’t tell lies to or be dissobits to but some times she has to push me to the limited.

I crafe her kiss and her hugs all week and I think about 24 7 and I’m so sked she going to die or get merdond i totrters my self and I all ways say I don’t love my mum and I hite her but I love her more then my self and my uther firends and famley.

I some time think if my dad can die than mum will and it hertz so bad to the pont I some times hert my self on pepuss and atcley sick and shaky and That’s when I look up bad things and crave weed because I need some think to replace it and keep out of my head.

To this day I fell so qultey that she could just say right I’m going out for the night and see a fiend or some one I’m like one of the guys who are so psevive because I’m so sked she won’t come back.

But she went on holiday and left me for a frew days and I did rally well but don’t get me rong it was tuff and I love it at 6 on a Tuesday night and 11 on saturday morning because I so happy to be with her and fell supper safe we are like a married cuppel just with out the sex and songing lol