“This System is Rubbish”! A Kinship Carer speaks Out

I

never expected to be a full-time parent again! When my daughter’s son, Archie was born, my daughter had already fallen into a life where drugs and alcohol were rife. Despite my best efforts to intervene and to take care of my grandson, my daughter kept moving around and it became increasingly difficult to keep Archie safe. One day, out of the blue, Social Services rang me and asked me to take Archie immediately because his living conditions were so unsafe. I agreed straight away and left my job in teaching. Archie was one month old. My first priority was getting all the things that Archie needed. I was given a second-hand baby car-seat by Social Services. I was suddenly on a limited income and had to beg, borrow and steal whatever I could from anybody. I was very lucky. I have kind friends and neighbours, so I didn’t actually have to steal anything! I did get an allowance after a few weeks, but it was much lower than my salary. ffoster carer. They said I had to undergo an assessment. That assessment only finished three months ago. During the whole time the assessor kept saying that I might not pass. I was trying to bond with my grandson and give him the best care whilst being threatened that if I didn 't meet up to expectations he would be taken away. What kind of life is that? When I questioned all this with the social worker they told me I had to fit into the new way of working and that that is the way things are done. I had no training on the effects of drugs and alcohol on my little grandson. But they did send me on a course about child development. I had raised three children of my own and had worked as a nursery nurse and teacher. I was gobsmacked.

The last year has been emotionally frightening and draining. I have felt so utterly alone at times and completely baffled by a system that wanted me to step in and help, and then seemed to do everything it could to undermine me or make me give up. I have had three different social workers and Archie has had two.

Finally, I did go to the foster panel and got approved to apply to the court to become Archie’s ‘Special Guardian’ . This means that I will have ‘parental responsibility’ and be able to make decisions for Archie’s future.

The whole sorry saga has been confusing, sad and overwhelming. My relationship with my daughter is at an all time low. Throughout the whole process I felt like I had no one in my corner, no one who actually understood what I was going through. When I found The National Association of Therapeutic Parents, I went to a Listening Circle and met two other grandparents, just like me, but they were out the other side. Without their help and support I don’t know what I would have done. I nearly gave up at times, but when I look at my darling Archie, I feel it is all worthwhile.

I thought I was just a grandmother offering to look after my grandson, but from day one there seemed to be a whole new raft of rules and regulations that I had no idea about. I was not only expected to know about these rules, but also adhere to them without question! The social workers and health visitors were naturally concerned about Archie’s growth and development, as was I. Every area of my life was probed and prodded. Suddenly I was told I had to transport Archie to a contact centre 20 miles away to see my daughter three times a week. I was told I was no longer his grandmother but a foster carer! I' ve never fostered, I never asked to be

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*names have been changed to protect anonymity.