Touched by a TV newscast, Annie and Bonifacio Altamirano decided
to become parents
– again. Their baby-boomer children were nervous. But the
televised story of two foster children without a home tugged at
them. The Altamiranos took the leap, and joined the foster care
system.
Gilroy – Touched by a TV newscast, Annie and Bonifacio Altamirano decided to become parents – again. Their baby-boomer children were nervous. But the televised story of two foster children without a home tugged at them. The Altamiranos took the leap, and joined the foster care system.
“We had said two (children),” snow-haired Annie Altamirano recalled.
“That’s what everybody says, huh?” kidded Bonifacio.
With 1,200 foster children still in need countywide, and only 70 foster homes in South County – half of them available at any time – foster families such as the Altamiranos are going above and beyond, trying to fill the need. The Altamiranos currently care for three teenage boys – one of whom has stayed with them six years – and have taken in up to five boys in the past. It’s no big deal, they insist: Another family takes in six children.
Shelda Reynolds, a foster mother who works part-time for the county as a Community Support Liaison, aims to double the number of South County foster homes by touting foster care to retirees, church groups and parents. Reynolds herself takes in infants and young children with medical problems, many of them linked to methamphetamine. On any day, she could get the call: A newborn in need. By now, she’s well-equipped to pick up a foster baby within hours, a child safety seat stashed permanently in her car. It’s a far cry from May 2001 when a telephone call brought her Natalie, now adopted as her own daughter. Two years later, she adopted another child: Noah.
“I was so frazzled. I had no diapers. I had no bottles. We were totally unprepared,” Reynolds recalled. “When you give birth, you have nine months. You have a shower. We didn’t have any of that!”
Over the past three years, Reynolds has taken in 10 children, who’ve stayed with them anywhere from two nights to three months. Between 2000 and 2004, the average first stay for foster children in Santa Clara County lengthened from nine to nearly 13 months, according to the Lucile Packard Foundation. One of Annie Altamirano’s teens told her on day one: “Don’t get attached to me – I’m not going to stay long.” Six years later, he’s still in their care.
Other children haven’t been so lucky: More than 23 percent of foster children countywide have been bounced between three or more placements during their time in foster care.
“They come with a lot of anger, resentment, like no one wants them,” said Annie Altamirano. “Tell you the truth, I’d feel that way, too.”
Ricocheting between different homes and sometimes different schools, foster children rarely graduate from college: Less than 3 percent of former foster youth get their degrees, said Darcy Cabral, coordinator of EHC Lifebuilders’ Education Mentor Program. Cabral, a former foster youth, is also a foster parent, and helped pilot the mentorship program, which guides foster youth ages 14 to 21 through post-high-school life. About 150 foster youth are emancipated in Santa Clara County every year, thrust into adulthood in one of the priciest areas in the country.
“I’ve got more children interested than I have mentors,” said Cabral. “They’re searching for themselves at this age, and they don’t have those role models. Social workers don’t have enough time. They need somebody they can call and say, ‘Hey, here’s what’s going on. What do I do from here?’ ”
Cabral should know: At age 18, she left foster care, intent on getting her degree, only to bounce in and out of school. It took her seven years to finish college. Stories like hers mobilize Reynolds, despite the heartbreak as children cycle in and out of her care. Every time a child leaves, even for a better home, she feels sick.
“You have to put your heart on the line,” said Reynolds. “It’s gut-wrenching.”
Luckily, even rattled by instability, foster children have been willing to put their hearts on the line, too. When Annie Altamirano underwent chemotherapy, hoping to beat out breast cancer, her teen boys shaved their heads in solidarity. Annie has never asked them to, but many of the boys call her “Grandma.” Writing about her experience, Altamirano concludes, “They rescued us as much as we rescued them.”
“People ask me, ‘Are these your children?’ ” Reynolds said, speaking of the babies and toddlers who cameo in family photos, spangling her home. “They’re all my children.”
