05/30/2026
Some children are drowning while adults debate swimming lessons.
Sit with that for a minute.
Because that’s what foster care feels like sometimes.
A child is actively suffering.
Right now.
Not someday.
Not hypothetically.
Not if things get worse.
Right now.
They’re hungry.
They’re terrified.
They’re being neglected.
They’re being abused.
They’re carrying trauma that would crush most adults.
And instead of pulling them out of the water, everyone gathers around the edge of the pool to discuss possibilities.
Maybe things will improve.
Maybe this time will be different.
Maybe they just need more services.
Maybe they need another chance.
Maybe.
Maybe.
Maybe.
Meanwhile the child is still drowning.
And that’s the part that makes me angry.
Because children live in the present.
They don’t get their childhood back if adults eventually figure it out.
They don’t get those years returned.
They don’t get a refund on the fear.
The trauma.
The instability.
Every month feels different when you’re five.
Every year matters when you’re ten.
Every extension.
Every delay.
Every “let’s wait and see.”
A child lives every second of it.
I think sometimes we’ve become so focused on adult potential that we’ve forgotten the reality sitting right in front of us.
Children cannot survive on promises.
They cannot be fed by intentions.
They cannot be protected by hope alone.
At some point, somebody has to stop discussing the swimming lessons and notice the child going under.
Because while adults are debating what could happen tomorrow…
Children are living what is happening today.
And today’s child matters too.
