Too old for foster care, too young to be on their own

08:25 PM CDT on Monday, July 4, 2005

Growing up in an endless succession of foster homes wasn't like having a family of her own, but for Tiffani Harrison, it at least meant regular meals and a bed to sleep in.

Dannielle Hill (left) and Tiffani Harrison, both 20-year-olds who grew up in foster care, share an apartment sponsored by Dallas Central Ministries' Transition Resource Action Center.

That minimal guarantee ran out abruptly in May, when Tiffani graduated from high school. By state law, she was no longer eligible for foster care – she had "aged out" of the system. At 19, she had no job, car, family, money or guidance. It was as if she had been pushed off a bus and left in the middle of nowhere.

"I was hysterical," said Tiffani, who turned 20 on Sunday. "I was saying, 'I don't know where I'm going to live. Who's going to take me in?' "

It's not a question that a harassed and overburdened state foster care system can generally answer. Already up to their necks trying to find placements for thousands of abused, neglected, abandoned, imperiled children coming into the system, caseworkers have few resources for helping the ones exiting at the other end.

So instead of easing into adulthood with the safety net of Dad's credit card, Mom's wise counsel and a home where, as the saying goes, "they have to take you in," foster kids make an instant transition. When they turn 18 or graduate from school, the door to childhood slams shut behind them.

But Tiffani, rescued from an abusive home in San Antonio when she was 12, had the good luck to hear about a program in Dallas that could help.

Dallas Central Ministries, a cluster of nonprofit social agencies, operates something called the Transition Resource Action Center or TRAC – and they had just come up with an answer: a place in a brand-new, fully furnished apartment in East Dallas, built specifically as short-term housing for young adults leaving the foster care system.

Visiting Tiffani and one of her roommates, 20-year-old Dannielle Hill, wasn't very different from sitting down with, say, a couple of SMU freshmen in their first student apartment. Their little home was spotless; the pair exhibited the bubbly charm of youthful excitement.

They don't talk about their perfectly dreadful childhoods unless you ask. As a little girl, Dannielle says, she was slapped and punched regularly. She was beaten with a studded dog collar. She was sick all the time – because she was never taken to the doctor, it wasn't until she was in state custody that she was diagnosed with Crohn's disease, a severe and chronic gastric inflammation.

Both women spent years bouncing from one foster home to the next – some lasted for months, others for just a few days.

"I went to six different schools in one year," Dannielle said. She estimates she lived in "about 30" foster homes before aging out of the system.

Tiffani laughed ruefully and said she couldn't even begin to count. She was an admittedly – and understandably – difficult child, reeling between her own rage and an overpowering desire to belong someplace, to have somebody love her. When one home or family or caregiver couldn't handle her, she was told to pack up and shuffled off someplace else.

The TRAC apartment, occupied by four young women and one live-in adviser, isn't quite an adult-living experience – but it's not a regimented foster home, either.

The real advantage both young women cite is the guidance of the TRAC "site coordinator," a compassionate-yet-practical social worker named Jennifer Grant.

Ms. Grant pointed out that while most young people coming out of the foster care system are sadly wise about the damage life can inflict, they're unprepared to cope with adult life.

"Most of them have never had a job, and they don't know how to get one," she said. "They're behind in their education because they've moved so many times. Some of them have learning disabilities."

Couple that with the absence of a family support system, and these kids are at a high statistical risk for homelessness, single parenthood and drug addiction.

For Tiffani, those statistics evoke a healthy indignation that's a pleasure to witness.

"Sure, there's plenty you can point to and say, 'This is so bad,' " she said. "But you can point to the good, too. Anybody can."

And she does. Tiffani has a safe, comfortable place to live and a new job at Central Market. In the fall, she'll start classes at North Central Texas College – she hopes to become a psychologist.

"I want to be able to show that I've done something with my life," she said. "For me, that would be paradise."

E-mail jfloyd@dallasnews.com