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Trista

Trista

Trista

Austin, Texas 

Trista, 24, of Austin, Texas, entered foster care at age 11 and struggled for years to overcome a past of hurt and anger. Through the help of supportive foster families and her caseworker, Trista was able to turn her life around.  She now lives independently with her niece and three-month-old son and attends Austin Community College where studies criminal justice.

Trista's story in her own words

I lived with my mother on and off until a week before my 11th birthday when I entered the foster care system. Child Protective Services had been working with my mother and me for a while, and finally decided that it would be best for me to stay in a foster home.

Entering foster care

I will never forget the day I got out of school and my caseworker was waiting for me. She told me that unfortunately I would not be able to go home, but she had found a nice foster home for me to stay in temporarily while my mother worked some stuff out. When we got to the foster home, I was greeted by one of the nicest ladies I've ever met. She gave me a tour of the house that would be my home for the next year.

I am forever thankful to my first foster family for being there for me during one of the hardest years of my life. Living with my mom wasn't easy, but going to therapy and hearing how angry she was at me was much harder. Our therapy sessions were supposed to be making things better so I could go home, but they only seemed to be getting worse. Somewhere inside me, I knew I wouldn't be living with my mother again. I really think I knew that from the beginning. That's why from the moment I was picked up from my caseworker at school, I asked to go home with my "grandparents." If I couldn't be with my mom, I definitely wanted to go home to them.

I say "grandparents" with quotation marks because they are not my blood grandparents, but they are the closest family I have ever known. My grandparents met my mother when she was pregnant with me and were originally going to be my adoptive parents. However, when I was born, my mother simply couldn't stand to give me up. She couldn't take care of me either though, so my grandparents offered to help her out. They started out babysitting me and over time turned into my second parents. However, I couldn't have two moms, and I didn't really know my grandparents, so that's what they became. I lived with them pretty consistently until I was five, and then on and off until I entered foster care. 

Unfortunately, when I entered the foster care system, symbolic relatives were not recognized as having many rights, and unless my grandparents became licensed foster parents I probably would not be able to go live with them. But that's exactly what they did. It took almost a whole year, but they took all the classes and became licensed foster parents in the state of Nevada. At my next court date after receiving their license, my grandparents drove to Texas to show the judge their license and ask if I could come home. The judge acknowledged I most likely would not be able to return to my mother, and granted our wish. I was going home. It was a day full of mixed emotions. I was sad to be leaving my foster parents, but glad to be going back with what I considered to be my family.

Dealing with the past

Once I got back to Nevada though, things weren't so great. I never thought I could be so angry at my grandparents, but I was. I was angry at them for allowing me to live with my mom for so long without coming to get me. I was mad they didn't save me and I blamed them for having to spend a year with strangers, even though they were very nice strangers.

Instead of telling anyone how I was feeling, I started acting out. I kept good grades in school, but I was always being sent to the principles office and getting suspended for my behavior. I was always arguing with my grandparents. Finally I got expelled from school and we had to move about an hour away to Las Vegas, just for me to be able to go to school.

However, it wasn't much better in Las Vegas. For the next year, I acted out at school, snuck out of the house and argued and fought with people. I was doing drugs and was totally out of control. My grandparents didn't know what do to with me or for me, but they weren't willing to give up on me. I was participating in therapy, but that only seemed to make things worse. They stated I was oppositional defiant, depressed and possibly bi-polar. My medications were modified several times but nothing seemed to help.

My grandparents wanted to tell my caseworker about what was going on, but they were worried I would be taken away. It all came to a head after sneaking out one night. My grandfather said he was fed up and called my case worker. I was taken to a run away shelter that I ran away from twice before being returned to Texas for one of my court dates. The judge said that since I couldn't behave I couldn't go back to Nevada. I was ordered to stay in Texas.

Turning my life around

From here my story starts to turn around. I decided that if things were ever going to get better, it was on me. After spending almost three months at an emergency shelter, I moved to a residential treatment center. Even though I hated it at the time, it was one of the best things that ever happened to me. I started therapy and finally got a chance to talk about all the things that were really going on inside me. My behaviors didn't immediately improve, and my caseworker and her co-workers still spent many hours trying to talk to me and keep me out of trouble. It felt like I had a whole unit taking care of my case, not just one caseworker.

For the next two and a half years, I continued living at the treatment center on and off. I was trying to work things out so I could go back home to my grandparents, and in the meantime I moved from the on-campus treatment center to their group home, and then to a foster home that unfortunately didn't work out for various reasons. I moved back to the group home and focused on school, work and my relationship with my family. Just six months before my 18th birthday, the judge allowed me to go home with my grandparents. I couldn't have been happier.

I was able to move to an alternative school that allowed me to work at my own pace for making up the credits I missed while moving around over the previous few years. While I was there, I was offered an internship at a local law firm and worked at a local restaurant in the evenings. That particular school ultimately didn't work out, but I was able to transfer to another one here in Austin. Despite the turmoil and years of being hindered by my past, I graduated from high school only six months late.

Everything hasn't been easy since I left foster care, but I have continued to make positive changes and move forward. With the help of all the people who make up my support system, I have been able to grow as an adult and become more and more independent. I'm thankful to my grandparents for truly being the parental figures in my life and doing everything from giving me advice, even when I didn't want it, to allowing me to move home when living in my own apartment became too overwhelming. I'm also thankful to my caseworker and her whole unit, my PAL coordinators and my aftercare case manager. They gave me all the tools I needed to be successful, and supported me while I figured out how to use them. Even to this day, six years after leaving care, they continue to support me in my role as a youth specialist with Child Protective Services.

I truly believe that having all these great people in my life is what turned me from the wrong path to the right one, and I couldn't be happier. Thank you.

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