Yes, I was in the foster care system. The day was December 25th, 2016. I had gone to my grandmother's house for Christmas. At first, I thought it would be the same as any other year. I remember waking up ecstatic that I would get to visit my family and eat all the food I wanted, a stark contrast compared to the empty fridge and time often spent alone at my house. Later that night, my mother never came to pick me up. I was never told the reason why, but I was rather glad that I could spend another night away from home, in a warm bed with heating. The next morning, I was shocked to hear that my mother would not be picking me up, that I would be staying with my grandmother. A wide range of emotions overcame me. Part of me was relieved; I didn't have to worry about my next meal, I could go to a good school, and I had AC in the sweltering Arizona summers. But I was also sad and confused, as well as angry. I couldn't understand why my mother wouldn't want me back; why she never showed up to any of the court-scheduled hearings; why she never fulfilled any of her court-ordered steps to regain custody. Even to this day, I sometimes can't help but wonder. Only difference is that I know it wasn't my fault, and that I've since come to terms with the truth. It took me a long time to get where I am today though. What I had originally thought to be a safe haven soon turned out not to be. Although I now had food on the table, my grandmother did nothing to aid my mental health. I had become the reason the milk spilled in the fridge. I was often told about how I was so close to being thrown out, how she was doing me a favor by allowing me to stay with her and that I should be eternally thankful. How she's not surprised that my mother would hit me, and why she doesn't want me back. It hurt, and my younger self couldn't help but believe her. I thought that I was useless, a child that no one wanted, only ever to amount to nothing. To be completely honest, sometimes I still find myself asking those questions, especially when I think about college and all of the expenses with it. My dream is to become a forensic pathologist, but to do so, I must first earn a bachelor's as well as go to medical school. The idea of this may be quite daunting, but I know deep down that I can do it. I know that I can overcome my past struggles and succeed. That I can be an aspiring story to others. I want others to see me and know that they can succeed too. Just because a person may have spent time in the foster system it doesn't mean that they will amount to nothing but a run-down minimum wage worker. A second dream of mine is to foster other children who may have had similar experiences to mine. I want to be able to help them learn that it wasn't their fault and to know that someone does care. To be the light in their darkest moments. As someone who was in the system myself, they'll know that I can relate to what they're going through, and emphasize. Foster children deserve to feel the love they so desperately need, and often lack. I want to be that person.

Generally, when a person hears "foster care" they think of the hardships they've endured, leaving them sand and broken. This may be true for some, but not me. I'm a junior in high-school, and college is right around the corner. As I reflect back on my life, I see nothing but adversities, and how I'm all that much better for them. My biggest adversity growing up, however, is going into foster care. When I was 12, I was placed into the foster care system and moved in with my. The next two years were a roller coaster ride. I originally had visitations with my mother, and my heart broke every time I saw her. I knew she wasn't taking the separation well. I mean, what parent would? She stopped coming to visitations after a while. The court then wanted to place me with my dad. The only hiccup: he was in prison, but thankfully was due to be released soon. Things were looking up. He got released, a job, and a place to stay. But it didn't last long, and he got reinstated in prison. I'd been left feeling lost and alone, angry at the world. I wondered why I wasn't good enough or why I couldn't just be normal. But I persevered and I'm grateful for it. I get to go to a charter school and even have a 4.0. I refuse to let what happened get the best of me, and will continue to persevere So when I hear the words "foster care", I think of what I overcame, and how I'm all the better for it. I'm only a junior now and wont graduate until spring of 2023, but I know that whatever happens in the next chapter of my life, I'll be ready for it.