To every foster kid and at-risk teen, I want you to know this: your life matters. You are not invisible. You are not alone.
I’m writing to any young person who feels forgotten or pushed aside. I know that feeling. I was born in Sacramento, the youngest of eight children, and our lives were shattered by my parents’ addiction. From the age of eight, I moved through the foster care system until I was placed with my older sister. That lasted until I was almost seventeen. When I got kicked out, the streets became my reality.
I never learned how to talk about my pain. I had no outlet, no support, and no safe space to speak honestly. I coped by numbing myself with weed and alcohol. I dropped out of high school and chased fast money. I thought carrying a gun made me powerful. I believed the lies that the streets were the only place I could belong. In March 2011, I helped take a life and hurt three other people. I was nineteen years old. I was sentenced to four life terms.
There is not a day that goes by that I don’t regret the pain I caused. No excuses. Just the truth. I blamed others for years, but the fault is mine. It took years of sitting with myself, asking hard questions, and learning how to take responsibility. I have grown in ways I never imagined. I have earned my GED and I’m now taking college courses. I’ve learned that strength is found in asking for help. Talking about what you’re going through opens the door for healing.
To every foster kid and at-risk teen, I want you to know this: your life matters. You are not invisible. You are not alone. The system can be tough and it’s not perfect, but there are people and resources out there who want to help you succeed. Ask questions. Talk to a teacher. Connect with a counselor. Stay in school. Stay focused. Education will give you a future far bigger than what the streets offer.
My life is not over. I am working every day to become someone my family can be proud of. I want to use my story as a warning and a message of hope. The streets lied to me. They will lie to you too. There is no future in that life.
What you are going through now is part of your journey, not the end of it. Keep pushing. Use your voice. Believe in yourself. You have value. You have a future. You can make it count.
Freddie
I recently came across this website as I have been looking for recipes for my husband. I printed some of yours for him. More importantly, I wanted to send you a hug for this. I am so sorry for your childhood. And I am so happy you have come to a place where you can reach out to other youth today. It is so often a building nightmare of trauma after trauma for these kids. So far, I have raised 13 kids. The two that I adopted are 18 now. They have really struggled with identity. One, in particular, we have maintained contact with his family so he carries guilt over how they live and how he doesn’t live. He was mom’s first baby and she lost him right away. She has gone on to have 5 more children, but it has always been a struggle for them. My son feels guilty so he has rebelled a lot, bringing guns into our home as “props” for tiktok and instagram. Two months ago, he begged me to allow his friend to come back and live with us again. I very reluctantly agreed. This kid was fresh off the LA streets and while he was respectful, he had a curse he had to fulfill. I have tried so hard with him over the years, to pour love and hope into him, but the damage, trauma, and anger gripped him firmly. Two weeks into his stay with us, he went and got his little brother and killed two random men to prove his value as a man. He is sitting in county right now and so is his 13yo brother AND their mom for letting the brother participate. The whole family went down because generational trauma ran too deep. My son, both of my sons, are stunned. we are all devastated. But this has put an end to my son’s guilt and identity crisis. He is so devastated that his friend did this and that the current consequences have been so widespread with greater consequences to come. My heart is crushed for our friend, but I am so happy my boys have seen the light and come to realize a more calm path. Hopefully kids will listen to you. It is really hard to escape the grip of trauma and then wrestle with the guilt of peace while so many still suffer. I tell my boys we are like lifeguards. We can throw a floaty out to a drowner and give them all the encouragement and direction, but we must stay focused because more often than not, when a lifeguard swims out to a victim, the victim accidently drowns the lifeguard as well. When we have a story to tell, we need to do that because there is power in our words and the floaters they leave behind.
Best to you.