By Erica Fischer-Kaslander
Executive Director
Passaic County CASA

It was early summer of 2018, and I was seated in a dingy court conference room next to 11-year-old Tyler, trying to find the words to comfort him.

Just minutes earlier, Tyler had been in the courtroom, surrounded by a dozen strangers, when he haphazardly found out that his father had died two days earlier in a tragic accident. After working in child welfare for more than a dozen years, the thought of choking up and wiping away tears in a courtroom is mortifying, but that’s exactly what I was doing that day.

Tyler had been in foster care for more than a year by that time. His mother struggled with mental health issues and his father had just one month ago secured housing that would allow him to be unified with Tyler. Tyler and his Dad were so excited to have the chance, for the first time ever, to live together. But then his dad died.

Before leaving the courthouse that day, I made sure that Tyler had the therapeutic support he needed and that his resource parents were brought up to speed. Then I went to the parking garage and sobbed alone in my car.

I knew all too well the feelings and struggles that Tyler was going through at that exact moment. Only 10 weeks earlier I had received the same news. My father had died in a tragic accident. At 33 years old, it was by far the worst day of my life; Tyler was only 11. I didn’t disclose this shared life experience with Tyler, but it was all I could think about while I sat there and tried in vain to comfort this wailing boy.

In some ways, our experiences were similar, but there were also many key differences. Thinking about these differences made me cry for Tyler even more that day.

I was informed of my father’s death by my husband in the comfort of our bedroom. Not by a stranger. Not with a dozen people all looking at me in the middle of a courtroom. I was 33 years old and married with 2 children; I didn’t immediately panic and think, “But where will I live now?” I was able to throw myself into funeral planning and arrangements without hesitation, which are traditionally an important part of the grief process. Tyler didn’t even know if a funeral was possible. Neither he nor his father had the money to pay for it.

I remember driving home from court praying for Tyler and his grief. Praying that he would be able to heal. Praying that he would be able to find a safe and permanent home to support him. Praying that he would be allowed to grieve and not just pushed along the chaotic rollercoaster of the foster care system.

I’ll fast forward a bit and share that several months later, Tyler’s resource parents, who had never imagined they would adopt an 11-year-old, stepped forward to make the lifelong commitment of adoption. Tyler’s foster father wrote in an email, “I knew Tyler’s dad and how much he loved him. After every visitation that Tyler had with him, his dad would say, ‘take care of my boy, please’ and I would reassure him that I would. How could I walk away now?”

In the three years since, every Father’s Day, I can’t help but reflect on fatherhood and think about that day. Fatherhood differs from family to family, yet is so meaningful regardless of the form. My father was an active involved dad my entire childhood. I was the definition of daddy’s girl and loved nothing more than spending time working on projects with Dad. Tyler never lived with his biological father, although once he entered foster care, they began seeing each other weekly and eventually spent weekends together in hopes of living together one day. These differences don’t mean that Tyler loved or grieved his father any less than I did mine.

There is no official declaration of “Father’s Day is for hands-on dads'' or “Father’s Day is only for custodial dads” or “Father’s Day is only for legal fathers.” As far as I’m concerned, the holiday should be celebrated to acknowledge every kind of father—the ones who biologically created us, the ones who were in our lives every day, the ones who loved us in the worst of times, and the ones who are legally connected to us.

Throughout the year, the American calendar is sprinkled with a holiday for almost everything. From the important celebration of our veterans to the celebration of donuts, we are a culture that likes a reason for a party, a present, or even a day off from work.

There are a few holidays that are especially poignant for children in foster care. Father’s Day is one of them. Unfortunately, many children in the foster care system don’t have an active relationship with their fathers. For the children who do, like Tyler, they are separated from them with often minimal visitation time, which challenges the relationship between any parent and child. Father’s Day can be a day of grieving for many people who have lost their dads, but for kids in foster care, it is almost always a day of grieving, even when their fathers are still alive and well.

Equally complicated are the emotions of foster fathers on Father’s Day. They willingly step into some of the hardest, most complex situations, when many would walk away. Yet, for a child to celebrate their foster father on Father’s Day can feel disloyal to their biological father.

How Can You Help a Child in Foster Care this Father’s Day?
(Adapted from https://www.avgffa.org/2018/06/02/fathers-day-for-foster-parents/)

Talk to the child and discuss how they feel about it. Make choices based on the unique situation. What’s appropriate for one child and family may not be for another.

Who would the child like to celebrate on Father’s Day? Make sure they know they have choices. A child should never be forced to share affection or celebration with someone they aren’t comfortable with or don’t see as a father figure. Does the child want to see their biological father? Do they want to send a card, make a gift, or avoid them altogether?

♦ If the biological dad is accessible and the child wants to acknowledge him, determine an appropriate gift. This could be a hand-made card and a simple craft. An older child may want to spend some quality time and buy a nice gift.

♦ Photos of the child are always a welcome gift, no matter who the father figure is or their level of relationship. Father’s Day mug anyone?

♦ If celebrating the child’s biological, adoptive or foster father isn’t practical, use this as an opportunity to acknowledge all the men who dedicate their time and energy to loving and caring for kids. Include coaches, teachers, grandparents, and other positive male leaders. This helps the child remember they are surrounded by support.

♦ For some children, it might be best to find a pleasant distraction altogether. Plan a day that has nothing to do with Father’s Day. Get take out from their favorite restaurant, plan a day trip to special playgrounds, or go outdoors for a hike or day at the beach.

Father’s Day is impossible to ignore. Instead of trying to, take time to recognize all of the fatherly role models that a child has in their life: alive or deceased, biological or not. Even with the complexities of life, Tyler and his adoptive Dad will enjoy a great holiday celebrating their relationship and visiting Tyler’s biological father’s grave to acknowledge the love and the gift of life he gave to Tyler. I celebrate Father’s Day the same way I would have if my Dad were here: homemade pizza and an adventure. Happy Father’s Day to Tyler’s biological dad, adoptive dad, and my own dad, along with all the dads out there. We love you all.