A (long) word, about the word "Special"

I've been hearing this word A LOT lately, and specifically in relation to our foster parenting.  More specifically in how the fact that I am a foster parent, I am somehow, a special person.

Often in my life, I've been told I come off as a standoffish person.  That's probably the kindest of the similar comments about first impressions people have when they meet me in person.  It means, I'm not necessarily open with my feelings or emotions or my body language when I meet people for the first time.  And that typically it takes me a while to warm up to people.  I don't think it's a bad thing, and most of the time, I pride myself on it - though it is still something I work on - pride because it means I care about how people treat me.  It's defensive and protective, but my friends, the people that know that's not all about who I am, I'm told anyhow, take it as a sign of affection- of love- when I'm not that person with them anymore.  This does not color how I view other people, if they treat me different, because I seem standoffish, I understand that - I've accepted that's part of who I am.

I say all that to explain, why the fact that perfect strangers telling me how special I am, bugs me.  You don't know me.  You don't know the type of person I am.  And to be quite clear (if the above paragraph didn't make it so), I'm happy about that.

So, when a stranger: the parent's of one of H's friends, a distant co-worker, a school volunteer, a knitting student - tells me that I'm a special person for becoming a foster parent, it rankles me.  And more often, I've found it makes me a little upset.  A little... rant-y.

I understand the INTENT of the words.  They think what I'm doing is a good thing.  A commendable (to borrow the word from a friend) thing.  But those are words about the concept of any foster parent, any person that is doing something to give help- to give hope, to a person (any person of any age) that needs it- that might not get it otherwise.  What it implies but does not say, is the type of person I might be for becoming a foster parent.  Because what's more, I understand that it's not something that just anyone can do, or is willing to do (but that's a different post).

However, when someone says I am- or it makes me (or my husband)- some how special people, I don't buy it.  Because there's no way you can know what type of person I am.  And in another fashion, calling me a special person- is applying a characteristic to me that I don't feel about what we're doing.

[As an aside: I want to say here that I appreciate that people's first comments, even stranger's, are to assume that I'm a good person generally speaking and not that I'm some creeper that is fostering for the money, or worse, for the kids.  That's not what this is about.  But, I do feel that there's a sort of social stigma about it - which I'm getting to, I promise - that I wanted to talk about here.  It's not the assumption but what comes with it when it's vocalized.]

When someone says it's special, I'm special, we're special - what they're usually saying (implied by the phrase/s that usually follow) is that it takes a SPECIAL KIND OF PERSON to do what we're doing.    I'm not sure what this magical 'special kind/type of person' really is, but I know from the class we took with myriad people willing to become foster and adoptive parents is that it takes: ALL KIND OF PEOPLE.

And further more, what usually follows, how special I/we are is how they - the person making the comment - could never DO what we're doing.  "I just don't think I could do that" or "I don't know how you do it" or "I know I couldn't do that" or (and this is the one I hate) "I know you're a better person than me..." [because I couldn't/can't do it].  I'm not implying, or not trying to anyhow, that anyone CAN become a foster parent.  Certainly, the states put enough regulations and requirements in one's way, that it takes a bit of willpower and motivation to get through them all to become a foster parent.

But that doesn't mean they're looking for certain types of homes, or people, or environments.  And lets be honest, there wouldn't be such a stigma about fostering kids if there weren't so many horror stories (and sadly, too many of them are not just stories) about what can happen to kids when they're in foster homes.

So let me break something down for a minute (just to be clear).  In my state in order to be a foster parent:
... a single person (that's right, you don't have to be married) only needs to make 10k a year [that's less- less than your average retail job, less than minimum wage] and a married couple only needs to make 12.5k a year [I understand - even as I look down the barrel of my own layoff - that saying this already comes with a stigma attached these days.  It's hard to find and keep a job.  But for people that have jobs, it doesn't have to be much]
... a person only needs to have one room available with a bed to take in a child (age appropriate bed) but depending on the ages and sex of the kids, one only needs one room to take in multiple children.
... the government pays for medical (physical/emotional treatment) and dental welfare
... you are reimbursed at least enough to make sure each kid has enough to eat, every day and school lunches are paid for separately from that

Now, those are just some basics.  There are other considerations, like physical health (a doctor has to say it's okay for you to care for kids, but if you have a good doctor who understands your health conditions, this shouldn't be an issue - depending on the kids you want to take in) and stability and emotional well-being.  It's not for everyone.  But, there are so many people, who say it's not for them, and just don't understand that it CAN BE.  And those people are usually the ones that say how SPECIAL I am.  When I'm not.

These kids.  They're what is special.

And they deserve every bit of anything you're willing to give them.