My path to humans.
I've been involved with youth as soon as I was old enough to choose a life of philanthropy. I joined Big Brothers Big Sisters while in college and had the best little brother. We were matched for 5 years. I went back to visit him even after graduating in Stevens Point, WI. Shane was my first glimpse into the life of kids in neglect and trauma. I didn't even realize that's what I was helping him cope with at first, I mean, I was only 20 years old. What I did know was that this kid needed love and he soaked up every single minute of my attention. During my Senior year of college I did a study abroad program in the South Pacific (Fiji, Australia, New Zealand and the Cook Islands). When I came back, during second semester, the first thing I did was go see Shane. It had snowed and there was at least 15" of accumulated snow on the ground. When Shane saw my car coming down the road, he ran from out of his house, no jacket, no boots, gloves, with nothing but the clothes he had on and darted through the snowy woods in the front of his house that led to the road. He ran, falling, smiling, yelling my name…I stopped my car and got out. He jumped in my arms, cold and wet and didn't let go. I cried and he cried too. That moment in the snow, was the first time I realized what a strong, positive impact I can make in a child's life. Shane missed me and he needed me. I missed and needed that little human, too.
After I graduated college, I moved back to the cities and rented a room out of a house in NE Minneapolis, where all the cool kids lived. I was a typical 20-something trying to figure out how to do real life. I was meeting new friends, making very little amount of money, partying the best way I knew how and loving life. Like I mentioned above, I visited Shane every 6 months or so for the next 3 years. After awhile they (his mom) just kind of stopped taking my calls. This was the first time I experienced the emotional loss of a child.
After that experience I knew I could do more; I decided I needed to find another outlet for all my love to go to. I signed up to be a volunteer at the Children's Hospital in Minneapolis. I volunteered every Wednesday for two years in the ICU. I went in, put on my red vest, sanitized my hands and went up to the Intensive Care Unit to rock babies who were sick. I'd rock and rock, sing songs and sooth the babies best I could. There was one little girl who was a frequent visitor in the ICU, she had down syndrome and was a pure light of joy. She was always smiling and giggling, even when she was feeling at her worst. I rocked her every Wednesday and she began to recognize my voice. One day when signing in for my shift, I noticed a card on the volunteer table, our favorite little girl had passed away. My heart sank, my eyes watered, my hearing went to a solid tone. I wiped my tears, signed the card and went up for my shift where the mood of the unit was low. This was the first time I experienced a child's death.
After that experience I knew I could do more; that I was strong enough to endure what others could not. So from there, I transitioned into the in-home Hospice Volunteer for the Children's Hospital. In total, I was matched with three families over 3 years and Hospice Volunteer duties can vary. Two of my families were from Pakistan and spoke very broken English. Sometimes during my visits I went and just sat with the moms; they needed companionship. Their babies we so young, so sick, and they were not allowed to, easily, leave their apartments without permission. I rarely saw the dad's of either of these families. So I would do what I could, clean, cook, rock their babies while they caught up on laundry, help with their English lessons. The second family I was with, was my favorite, they were sweet and so welcoming. Their daughter died after about 5 months together. Before I could even go say goodbye, they were gone, back to Pakistan and I never heard from them again. My case worker called to give me a message from the mom, the message said "Kellie, I want you to know that right before (child) died, she asked for you. She said your name."
I stayed in the Hospice volunteering for about another 6 months and was matched with a family who had an ill infant and a 5 year old that needed attention. We colored, went to the park, read books, did art projects. It was a gift to be able to help this family knowing that they cannot always give 100% to both kids, let alone themselves. This was the first experience I had empathizing with a struggling parent. Like really, really feeling for them; knowing they wished they could do more but were at a point where they just couldn’t fit anything else in.
After that experience I knew I could do more; I went to an informational session through Hennepin County on Fostering when I was 25. I left that session knowing that was going to be my calling. But also knowing I was not ready for that level of commitment. Not yet.
Over the next several years I had 8 nieces born into my life. All girls, what a wonder they are. I was able to spend my time and weekends with my nieces, having sleepovers, going to birthday parties and loving them up. One thing having little humans in my life did let me know was that I have a particular draw to older kids. I was also an avid foster mom for MN Pitbull Rescue MN Pitbull Rescue, taking in over 5 dogs altogether, until they found their forever homes. My dog, Bailey, was the best big sister and rescue pup I could ask for. Ceeger, my cat, was always the rules and boundary setter. We loved and loved these dogs until I foster failed with Loudon. I adopted him at 8 weeks old because I knew he fit in and that we could not live without him in our lives. There was my first experience with taking in something that I knew I would have to give up. Give away. Love and then let go.
After that experience I knew I could do more. In 2015, when I was 33, I took a trip to the South Pacific again. I was in New Zealand for my friend Renee's wedding. I was honored to read a poem during their ceremony. After my week on the North Island, I went to Singapore for a week to stay with my old neighbors who had moved there.
My flight home stopped in Manila, Philippines. I flew in on a redeye to Milan, then taxied to my hotel. I had a total of 8 hours to send there before my flight back to the States and I did not want to waste a minute of it. I got up early the next morning, strapped on my sandals and started out on my planned tourist route. I was going to bring my coffee from the hotel and sit on the rocky beach for a bit before really hitting the pavement. I walked out of the hotel and was hit with the smell of urine and garbage. There were people sleeping on the sidewalks, there were people staggering around, there were kids drinking water from the sewer, there were people dressed to go to work, there were people who had almost nothing on their bodies, there were starving dogs and cats. I walked to the corner and turned left, towards the ocean. My plan to take in this beautiful island on the beachfront was hindered by my instant heartbreak for the population in Manila There were men on the street trying to sell things to me, there were kids trying to pickpocket me. I was astounded.
When I got down to the shore, there was an infant, couldn't have been more that 7 months, laying on a cardboard box on a ledge. All alone. Not an adult insight. There were school-aged children bathing in the ocean and right next to them were fishermen trying to find their profit for the day. My eyes welled with tears. I couldn’t stop, I slowly walked. Turning to look back at this baby., I wondered who was going to feed her today. I wondered how long that baby was actually going to live.
I sleuthed around touristy sights as fast as I could. I got back to my hotel, had lunch then went up to my room, crying myself to sleep while waiting for my departure. My planned 8 hours of touring turned into 4 hours of speed walking, grasping my belongings and not stopping for a beat. This was my first experience in a third world country this was my first experience feeling utterly unsafe on my own. I'd traveled alone before and nothing felt like this.
I will never forget my taxi ride to the airport, seeing naked kids running around. I watched one little boy drinking water from the street gutter and just up the block was another little boy, peeing into that same gutter.
When I got on the plane I had this relief come over me. I was going home. I sat next to a Philippian woman and got up the courage to ask her about the homelessness in Milan. She laughed at me and said, "We may be poor, but us Philippians, we're a happy people."
It was on that flight home that I knew I could do more. I was ready to foster. Within a week of being home I listed my small little bungalow in South Minneapolis to buy a bigger home with more bedrooms and immediately started the foster licensing process through Hennepin County. I was ready to commit to helping those who are unable to help themselves. To help those who were put into circumstances beyond their control. I was ready to be a friend, a mentor, someone who can give direction and love.
In my heart I always knew I would be taking care of things that will leave me. I have that aura, when people are in need, they find me and when they're healed, they leave.
I was ready to be a mom, so be it be a faux one to humans that are not actually mine. I was ready and it was time.