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Guest post written by Ludwig Sandell I've often said that I don't come from a furnished home, but an over-furnished one. I grew up with two parents, a sister and a grandmother in the house. There was also family in the house next door, and I had good access to safe adults around me throughout my childhood. Child welfare was something you read about in the newspapers. The only exception was when a newly arrived sixth grader was picked up by an adult lady with a Palestinian scarf and practical shoes in the classroom. The police car, which was parked at an appropriate distance, highlighted the seriousness of this unkempt boy, who rarely brought a snack and often arrived in dirty clothes, being picked up by adults. The child who was picked up was neither disruptive, dangerous, scary or rude. Nor was he violent. He was, however, a victim of neglect. The parents, to the extent that they were present, were unable to take care of him. No one washed his clothes, helped with his homework or made him a snack. No words of praise or encouragement. The adults whispered about alcohol abuse and maybe even drugs. In secondary school, there are a few more, albeit vague, memories of a child protection agency that appeared behind the scenes. They are still ladies in practical shoes, but it is rare that they, or their presence, leave any lasting impression on those of us not directly affected by it. In high school, there were a couple of students with a somewhat particular taste in clothes and a slightly harsher tone than the rest of us, who people said were under child protection. I actually think that these somewhat colorful, or for that matter totally monochrome individuals were a nice addition in a world where uniformity according to a number of parameters was the norm. Fast forward a few years. I'm at work in the capital and rushing between two appointments as a strange scene unfolds in one of the city's squares. Two police cars, four police officers and two women in practical shoes in a tangle of arms and legs around a tiny teenager with too much makeup and torn black jeans. The teenager appears to be fighting for her life, while both of the women in practical shoes and three of the policemen half drag and half push her towards the siren bus. They don't get many meters at a time before the petite black-clad girl has wriggled free from one of them and is swearing like crazy as she tries to kick, bite and punch the nearest one. I stop, a bit in disbelief, and look at it all. 5 adults against a little girl? At least two of the policemen look like they are more at the bole factory than at work. Can this overwhelming show of force really be necessary? The little wild animal with bangs is finally pushed into the cage section of the siren bus without it dampening her fighting spirit in the slightest. The largest of the policemen strolls the few meters over to me and half apologizes for having had to disrupt my day with what he calls an unfortunate incident. Has she killed someone? I ask because I genuinely wonder what action a teenage girl weighing approximately 49 kilos might have committed to attract this kind of attention. No, he says, shrugging it off, she has escaped from the orphanage again. Let's fast forward a little further, to today. It's February 9th, twenty-seventeen. Child protection cases are commonplace in the media. Both nationally and locally, column after column is written about child welfare, especially when the system fails. In social media, custody cases are litigated with Facebook users as jury and witnesses. Sometimes the media focus on the fact that these are actually people. Real people who are living the stories unfolding in official and unofficial media channels. One thing that is strange is that in 2017 there is still a kind of media consensus that children in care are children in care because they are the problem. Sure, there are children in care who act out, use drugs, steal, are violent and unruly. But there are actually children in care who get a six in gym, who look after their friends at parties, who are kind, smart and clever. So why do we allow ourselves to use totally unrealistic stereotypes in 2017? With a wife who is the former deputy chair/chair of the National Association for Child Welfare Children and now a social entrepreneur, I have had the opportunity to meet a bunch of current and former child welfare children and have the following to report to the media in particular and society in general: Children in care are not a homogenous group of people. They are first and foremost children and young people, and shockingly, children and young people are human beings. The only thing they have in common, as far as I can see, is that circumstances in their lives have made it necessary for the public authorities to intervene in their everyday lives to a greater or lesser extent. They are individuals with all the opportunities and prerequisites that this entails, but also limitations and challenges. As the "audience" in the show we call life, we rarely know the truth behind a transfer of care. We have little insight into who has failed and where. That's why it would be great if the media (and the rest of us) could refrain from homogenizing such a diverse group. Being a child in care does not automatically turn you into a petty criminal, acting out mob with poor future prospects. It makes you a child who has just as much right to space and opportunity to succeed as anyone else, regardless of whether it's family or the public sector that helps you along the way.
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9/12/2021 08:05:01
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