Karlos Dillard - Ward of the State: A Memoir Of Foster Care

Ward of the State Subtitle
2020 by Karlos Dillard

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

ISBN (Print): 978-1-54399-902-0
ISBN (eBook): 978-1-54399-903-7

This book is dedicated to my life coach, mentor and proclaimed father Perry Morgan. You showed me tough love and taught me how to accept my blessings and favor from God. I love you for showing me how to love myself.

Also dedicated to Pauline Rickey It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light Aristotle

About the Author

Most known for his appearances on Cut.com a viral Youtube Production company based out of Seattle, Karlos has made a name for himself making people laugh while addressing social issues. Using his large social media platforms, Karlos has brought attention to Black gun ownership and police brutality. He is a Commerical Actor and Model working with the nations top photographers like National Geographic Photographer Art Wolfe. He has also appeared in commercials for companies such as Microsoft, Amazon and Mercedes Benz. Karlos has also advocated for other foster children currently in the system, doing public speaking engagements like Seattle Ignite 40 with his talk Friend of a Foster Child. Karlos resides in Seattle Wa with his husband and their two dogs. He has dedicated his life to shading light onto dark spaces in society and to be a voice for those that havent found theirs.

Where is Mom?

It was the last day of school in the second grade. A day when children dream about the wonders they will encounter during the summer. Family trips, carnivals and amusement parks, and all the things summer is filled with. The smell of the summer breeze is gracing its way through the dunes, pushing glass-like sand against your legs as you run on the beach. There will be a gathering of loved ones at the annual family reunion, where you can be sure your uncle will start a debate trying to prove hes the smartest. These dreams and those kids, none of them exist in my summer.

Looking out the window of Roosevelt Elementary, I see the same thing I had seen all year, the ghetto. The trash scattered streets, under-booked and overworked hookers on the corner. This neighborhood once had prestigious lawns and beautiful two-story homes. The upper-middle class had once walked these same streets, smiling as they wave to their neighbors while sending their children off to school.

Those lawns are now lots. Dirty needle filled lots. Last year, a faggot was raped, beaten, and then thugs forced a broom up his rectum. The police found his body only two lots over from my house. The neighborhood that was once the home for white people who smiled as they walked down the street was now run by gangs. And the bright smiles have become smiles rotted by the use of drugs and booze. The homes are now Section 8 sub-developments. Four bedrooms and two baths homes were converted into two bedroom and one bath apartments. Only a thin, cheap layer of drywall separated the apartments. Youd hear everything your neighbors did. The fights. The woman screaming for her children as her boyfriend beat them all. Her moaning from pain as she nursed her family back to health. And the nasty make-up sex she had with him, as he kissed her wounds oh so gently. One might think that I just had a very well-developed imagination, and I made up stories from the noises I heard. I knew because those were my walls. That woman was my mother and that man, he was Satans spawn, always beating everyone, then enjoying the entire family sexually.

As an eight-year-old, my school is my sanctuary - my escape from the dangers that are outside of the barbed wire fence. One of the only places where you will still see a white face. I prayed every night, hoping my prayers would be answered and I would wake up white in a white family, all happy and content. My teacher, Miss Chimney, was the most beautiful, white woman I had ever seen. In my dreams, she plays the role of my mother. She bakes bonbons for the holidays and we sing carols in front of the tree. Shes my superhero of sorts, always there for my brother and I.

RING!

Thats the bell, the final one for the year. Everyone rushes to unpack their desks, the ones that lift up giving you a false sense of privacy. All year long I stole my classmates snacks, stuffing them in my backpack to save for dinner. I was the first out of the classroom. I hardly had any school supplies so packing up was pretty easy for me.

My older brother, Tim, met me outside the school by the flag. Timothy is the second youngest. And he and I are the closest out of the four of us. Because we have different fathers, you would never guess that we were brothers. Tim was in the third grade and the complete opposite of me. He is a pretty big kid and already wore a mens size nine in shoes. Although he is big for his age, he is not a fighter. He is more of a nerd who likes playing with Pokemon cards and playing hide and seek. All of the neighborhood kids teased him because of his light skin.

As we walked home, I didnt have that exciting feeling of summer. Instead, hunger and the fear of the unknown filled me. Since tomorrow was Tims birthday, maybe mama would be there with a party! My mother had not been home for some time, and we were running out of food. Shit, just last week we had to fight a gas station attendant to save Tim from getting arrested for stealing pop tarts. Our house was only three blocks from the school, which I loved. Being so close to our school made it easier to walk there in the cold Michigan winters. I cannot stand winter. Of course, I loved Christmas and the first snowfall but I never had adequate clothing for any of those activities. Yet, in the summer heat, it was also very convenient to be close to school. When we arrived home, the door was locked. This was not unusual because our older sister, Jatia, who was thirteen years old, was the only one who had a key. Tim and I waited for about an hour then decided to head back to the school. This one small decision would change my life and the lives of all my family members.

Once we were back at the school we went to see if Miss Chimney was still there. We caught her just as she was closing her door for the summer. Miss Chimney seemed surprised to see us and greeted us with a smile like always. Tim and I told her about being locked out of the house and waiting. After learning why we were at the school her smile became a frown and she instructed us to sit in her classroom while she made a phone call. Those minutes she was gone seemed like an eternity. Tim suggested that Miss Chimney could take us to her house until our mom came back. Miss Chimney was no stranger to our mother. She often dropped by on Saturdays to take Tim out on adventures. My mind started making glorious scenarios of how Miss Chimney would let Tim and I live with her, and we would go to the zoo and on all these amazing field trips.

Those illusions were quickly eradicated when I saw two police officers and a young white woman in a grey tweed dress enter the room. Miss Chimney was the last one to enter the room with the same worried expression on her face. Miss Chimney told us that the woman and the policeman were here to help us. From growing up in the ghetto of Muskegon Heights, even at a young age I knew what they were there for. Plus, it happened to my cousin a few months ago. A few weeks before, our cousin was removed by the government and put into foster care. It had been happening a lot in the neighborhood, especially to the kids whose parents were on drugs or selling them. The lady in the grey dress introduced herself as Miss Jennifer. She is a white lady in her late twenties with shoulder-length, auburn hair. She told Tim and I she would be our case worker. She then asked us to repeat the story we had given to Miss Chimney. Tim refused to talk to her. Then, she turned to me, kneeling to my level and asked me to tell her. I told her my sister should be home and we would just go back home. This Jennifer lady suggested I take her home with me so she could get a chance to meet Jatia.