Foster carers wanted: ‘You can be over 55, gay, single, a job seeker, of ethnic minority, and be a carer'
They say that raising a child takes a village, but not everyone is fortunate enough to have the help and support they need. And some people, for a variety of reasons, are unable to take care of their own children. There are more than 5,000 children and young people in State care across Ireland with almost 90 per cent of these living with foster carers.
Nicola Rowntree Carroll and her husband, Gerry, have been welcoming children into their home for almost two decades and say it has been an incredibly rewarding experience.
'When we first got married many years ago and it seemed unlikely that we would have our own children, we thought about fostering,' she says. 'But then we did become parents – to Sarah Louise, David and Emma – and we put it on the back burner for a while. Then, one day, both myself and Gerry happened to be listening to an interview on the radio about fostering. He was at home and I was at work, and coincidentally we both heard it. There was a call-out for foster parents, and we said, 'You know what? Let's do this.' That was about 18 years ago and we have been doing it ever since.
The importance of foster care
Listen |
68:58
In Ireland, more than 5,500 children are currently in foster care. We hear from two foster carers, Sinéad O'Donnell and Sharon Kelly, who tell Róisín Ingle why they wanted to open up their homes, the challenges involved and what advice they would give to anyone considering becoming a foster carer.
'In that time, we have fostered four children. Our first placement was a seven-month-old baby boy, who was an amazing little character who took to Gerry from the moment he came into the house in the arms of the social worker – I'd say he sat on Gerry's hip for a whole year. It was a wonderful experience all round, particularly as he went home at the end, which was just fantastic.'
READ MORE
Their next placement was a teenage boy, who came to their house in an emergency situation and stayed on for some time, ending only after tensions arose between the children. 'We would have loved to continue working with him, but he was the same age as our own son and conflicts had begun, so in terms of protecting our own child, unfortunately, the placement had to end,' says Nicola, who is a rape crisis worker.
Nicola Rowntree Carroll.
But their household numbers changed again as, shortly afterwards, they took in two brothers. 'We've had this foster placement of two teenage brothers, Andrew and Tristan, for nine years now,' she says. 'They are a long-term placement and will always be with us – they really are part of the furniture now at this stage.'
The two brothers have integrated seamlessly into family life, and Nicola says they are blessed that everyone gets on so well, as this might not always be the case. 'Looking after the baby first was kind of handy because he wasn't going to be into anyone else's toys or anything like that, so it wasn't difficult,' she says.
'I had thought that it might be an issue for our youngest with [feelings of] displacement, but it was fine. There were issues with the second placement, but this is often the case with everyone trying to find their space within a new home. But we are really blessed with the boys, as all the children get on – and fight – like siblings.
'Of course, there are lots and highs and lows with fostering, regardless of the situation, and one of the things that we learned really early on from a social worker was to celebrate the small things. So that is something that we always try to do. But we have also been really lucky because we're now celebrating big things with the boys as well.
'Also, things have been very positive with regard to the boys' mum, as I have a fantastic relationship with her. This can be quite unusual and has been hard work – she has had to see someone else bringing up her children, which cannot be easy for any mother, but we have really worked very hard and meet each other every two weeks for coffee or lunch, a catch-up and a chat. I will text her when things happen with the boys, even simple things like going to the GP or if they have done well on a test or an exam, and I'll send photos.
'This has also made a huge difference for the boys, because they are not competing or protecting either situation – so in the house and on their phones, and she is referred to as 'Mum One', and I am 'Mum Two'. And with regard to any major decisions, I will run everything past Mum One before we say yes or no to it. That has been an absolute high, and has also been such a positive experience for all of us. I know Mum One would agree and say exactly that same thing, that it's not about us, it's all about the children.'
If you have space, and time, and a little bit of room in your heart and in your mind, think about fostering
June is National Fostering Awareness Month. 'The theme is 'Fostering Is for You', in which we want to address the myths around fostering eligibility,' says Jacqueline Smyth, Tusla national lead for foster care. 'You can be over 55, gay, single, a job seeker, of ethnic minority, etc and be a foster carer. Many people don't realise this and were ruling themselves out.
'There is an ongoing need for carers across the country. And it is important that the pool of available carers is both diverse and geographically spread to assist children in staying in their communities. Each child will have differing needs, and so a variety of family types is also important; quiet homes and busy ones, homes with children and those without, are all required.
'People often believe that fostering is something that is outside their range of skills when, in fact, what foster children need most are homes which are stable and filled with kindness and love. The love and care is the same as if you were looking after your own child or family member.'
'As part of National Fostering Awareness Month, we are asking people from diverse backgrounds, in communities across Ireland, to consider providing all types of foster care,' says Smyth. 'It could be respite care on weekends, even one weekend a month. It could be an emergency placement, or a longer-term placement for children and young people who cannot, for various reasons, live with their birth families.'
Meanwhile, seasoned foster carer Nicola urges people to consider taking in a child as it could make such a difference to their life. 'If you have space, and time, and a little bit of room in your heart and in your mind and you want to make a positive difference to a child's life, think about fostering,' she says.
'I would encourage anyone considering it to get in touch with other foster carers. There are branches, hubs and support groups, so go talk to them and to foster carers in your local area. Find out what the supports are like and get in touch. Don't dismiss it, just think about it, because if you've considered it, then fostering is probably for you.'
For more information on fostering, see
fostering.ie
or call freephone 1800-226771 to be connected with a social worker in your local area who can talk to you about what is involved and what might work for you
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Irish Times
3 hours ago
- Irish Times
The loss of never becoming a grandparent: ‘You always assume it's going to happen to you'
The reward for parenthood is grandchildren, it's alleged. The chance to love and spoil your children's children, but without having to take on the same level of responsibility or sleep deprivation. For many parents, becoming a grandparent, one day, is presumed. But what about when it isn't likely to happen? Whether by choice or circumstance, recognising that you may never know the joy of having grandchildren can be a difficult thing for some people to accept. And an even harder thing for others to admit. Sorcha is deeply saddened by the knowledge she will never be a grandmother. 'I always assumed I'd have kids, and by extension grandkids. You always assume it's going to happen to you. READ MORE 'I have only one child and she is severely physically and intellectually disabled. She wouldn't understand pregnancy. I don't know how her body would cope with a pregnancy. And also she could never consent to sex.' Her husband was married before and has other children from his previous marriage, and she admits to finding it difficult that he now has grandchildren and she doesn't. 'It was really hard. The worst day was when his eldest [child] rang him to say, 'You're going to be a grandad.' While she and her husband always knew they would never have grandchildren together, it was an 'abstract' thing, she explains, until the day of that call. 'I was delighted for them, and I was thrilled for my husband. But at the same time I was absolutely heartbroken for myself ... In that minute I just thought, I'm never going to get that call telling me, 'You're going to be a granny.' I remember being very, very tearful and I know it took a while for my husband to twig.' Sorcha has a big interest in history, and family history, and knowing that her 'chain' stops with her daughter makes her feel sad. 'Quite a number of my friends now have grandchildren of varying ages. This is something my husband doesn't experience and can't really share with me. While he listens to me, ad nauseam at times, he doesn't have that experience because they are his grandbabies.' [ Regretting working outside the home: 'We're told to parent like we don't work. And work like we don't parent' Opens in new window ] Sorcha says she's very conscious that her husband's grandchildren already have a grandmother: 'What am I, a step-grandmother? That's not really something that rolls off the tongue. Every time a friend announces, 'Well there's now a grandbaby coming,' and I'm like, 'That's fabulous, that's wonderful' – but I have to take those few minutes to just go, 'That's not going to be my reality. That's never going to happen to me.'' Sorcha remembers seeing a plaque for sale in a shop that really upset her. It read, ''Only the best mums get promoted to grannies,' and I actually burst into tears,' she says. 'One of the things that hit me was, do they think that being a mum wasn't fun, or being a parent isn't nice?' Lisa says sadly of one adult child who has already stated that she doesn't want any children. Her other adult child, she explains, is likely to encounter fertility problems due to a health condition. 'A lot of my friends are becoming grandparents for the first time. My cousins are already grandparents. And I'm the oldest,' she says. Knowing she is unlikely to become a grandmother has left her feeling stunned. It's a feeling 'I never thought I'd be feeling', she continues. Motherhood 'is the best thing I ever did. So I couldn't imagine someone skipping it'. Part of a series about issues related to parenting that are not generally discussed. Lisa fears she'll miss out on 'the family and togetherness' that she believes having grandchildren would bring. 'My kids' relationships with their grandparents has been good,' she says, explaining how, even though they're adults now, they continue to stay in regular contact. She worries too about impending loneliness as her friends become busy and more involved with their grandchildren. A loneliness that she says is reminiscent of when children finish at school and many of the 'mum friends' friendships fall away. Emily says she is certain her daughter will never have children as she lives with the trauma of a sexual assault. 'She doesn't go into crowds. She doesn't go out at night on her own. You will never see her wear a skirt above her knee,' she says, explaining some of the lingering effects the assault has had on her daughter. 'She's had a few relationships ... they don't normally last.' Although her daughter has a partner at the moment, Emily reiterates that she doesn't see her ever having kids. 'She wouldn't even go for a smear test. She won't have anybody touch her that she doesn't know and trust.' Some years have passed since the assault, Emily says, explaining the passing of time makes her more certain she won't become a grandmother. It makes her sad because her daughter 'absolutely loves kids. And I know she'd love having small kids'. Emily says she would have loved to be a grandmother. She has another child who is unlikely to become a parent, either, because of additional needs. Emily has become acutely aware recently of the role she probably won't ever experience. 'I've noticed me spotting lovely cute [little] clothes in Dunnes or Penneys and thinking, 'I've nobody to buy them for.'' She struggles with the fact that the person who assaulted her daughter has 'forgotten he ever did it, and she's left with it. That's the hard thing and I'm quite bitter about the fact that [the person] got away with it'. Being a grandparent allows for a different source of connection and bond than we have with our own children — Cara Byrne, psychotherapist Kathleen is a bereaved mother. Her living child recently told her that he didn't want to have any children. He's still young, but the announcement floored Kathleen, who is very distressed at the thought she may never become a grandmother. 'I've been crying all day and all night,' she says, since she heard, and feels 'devastated'. 'He's it,' she says, describing how her son is her only chance to have a grandchild. 'I lay in bed last night thinking, 'When I die ... nobody is going to come to see our grave, to tell our story, to pass it down to the generations, like I have done when my mum died.'' She's sad at the idea of having no further family to pass heirlooms and family photos to. 'The connectedness of family and ancestors and ... the importance of the generations' matters hugely to her, she explains. She worries her son may not change his mind about having children, as his girlfriend is equally adamant that she doesn't want children either. Kathleen says she was looking forward to 'everything' about having grandchildren. 'The sense of ... him experiencing the love of being a father, being a parent, that I was blessed to experience.' Kathleen explains she had multiple miscarriages and had to have 'fertility treatments' to have her two children. 'Then I lost one. And one doesn't want to supposedly at this stage have kids. I want to be able to tell my grandkids stories about my parents, my great grandparents, where they came from, their heritage. Teach them things. Show them things. Nurture them. 'Love them,' she adds, sadly. 'Being a grandparent allows for a different source of connection and bond than we have with our own children, because when our kids are young we're so busy, especially if both parents are working, that we miss out on a huge amount of quality time,' says psychotherapist Cara Byrne. Byrne says it's normal for people to feel disappointed in the knowledge that they won't become grandparents. 'For the majority of people, when you have children you expect them to do the same. It's a life stage that if you don't get to experience you may feel a sense of loss. 'It's also very difficult if all your peers are grandparents because it's such a distinct identity and you may feel very disconnected in that, especially when it's the time of year that everyone's going to Communions or Confirmations and you're not going to these things because you don't have grandchildren to celebrate.' Continuing your 'genetic legacy' and wanting your name to be carried forward can be a 'huge factor', she says. 'So you would expect a sense of disappointment or loss associated with that also. 'Some people may take it as an indication that their children don't wish to repeat the life they experienced,' or, 'that them not having kids of their own represents their discontentment with their own childhood'. [ We used to vilify unwed mothers. Now we criticise women who don't want to be mothers Opens in new window ] In trying to deal with the upset that people may experience, Byrne recommends trying to 'understand where that deep disappointment is coming from' and 'what your unmet expectations are from this decision that your child has made, or has been forced to make'. Understanding the sense of loss means 'we can give ourselves the compassion to get over it', she says. It's important to recognise that 'you raise your children to make decisions for themselves, and that this is their decision and it isn't about you. It's about what's right for them in their life and that their ability to make those hard choices is because of the lessons you taught them. And that if you want them to be happy, it's important to respect their decisions even when you don't agree with them. 'If you're really struggling with it, then talk to a therapist about it. However you feel is absolutely fine and valid, but if you're going to get stuck on this idea of disappointment or it's going to change into a bitterness towards your child for feeling robbed of this experience, then it's really important to work through that.' Parenting taboos Gender disappointment Favourite child Regretting parenthood Stay-at-home parent Working outside the home
Irish Times
4 hours ago
- Irish Times
Pasta the Italian nonna way: ‘Spaghetti alla bolognese does not exist'
'No, no, no!' exclaims an affronted Monica Venturi at the idea that anybody might attempt to pass off spaghetti bolognese as an authentically Italian dish. Her face is stricken at the thought of adding ragù (meat sauce) to spaghetti and then misnaming it, when, as everybody in her hometown of Bologna knows instinctively, 'spaghetti alla bolognese does not exist'. Monica, as a decades-long veteran pasta-maker along with her sister Daniela Venturi, does not invite argument on her specialist subject. In fact, the sisters explain, the real spaghetti alla bolognese is made with tuna, tomato and onion, topped off with fresh parsley. And although tuna is a fish, and Italians generally shy away from cheese on seafood, they like to add parmesan. This is because, says Monica, 'for Bolognesi people, tuna is not a fish'. READ MORE The pasta-making duo are in Dublin as part of a partnership with Birra Moretti which will see them host a two-night pop-up Nonna's Kitchen at the end of July. At home in Bologna, they run a classic pasta shop, Le Sfogline, where they handmake as much as 60kg of fresh pasta on their busiest week. In the pasta business for almost 30 years and both having nonna (grandmother) status, the sisters know everything about how it should be cooked, eaten and enjoyed. For the record, the authentic version of the food Irish people like to call spaghetti bolognese is tagliatelle al ragù, ribbon-shaped pasta with slow-cooked meat sauce. The sisters warn that even if you know this, it's dangerously easy to fall down with the ingredients by using too much of the base mix of celery, carrots and onions. 'You must be aware of this because if you put in too much, it becomes very heavy. And you only taste the three vegetables. This is a mistake I've noticed,' says Monica. Warming to the theme of non-expert pasta gaffes, Monica says the other area where we often tip ourselves into absolute failure is overcooking pasta. Obeying the 'al dente' (literally, to the tooth) rule, where pasta is cooked just to the point of firmness before veering into sogginess, is crucial, the sisters agree. This is especially true for their fresh pasta with eggs, says Daniela. 'It cooks very fast.' Monica (right) and Daniela Venturi in Drury Buildings, Dublin 1. The sisters, who run one of Bologna's most successful pasta shops, have strong feelings on how it should be made and eaten. Photograph: Dan Dennison And then we get to lasagne, or lasagna – the lasagna is a single layer of sheet pasta, while lasagne is the plural. There is disapproval on the sisters' faces when they acknowledge that people in France sometimes eat the dish with a mixed salad, but sheer disbelief when they're told it is generally served with chips in Ireland. News of garlic bread often being heaped on the side as well prompts such uncomfortable laughter that it seems wise to avoid talk of coleslaw. Daily lasagne-maker Daniela, who says she still can't resist sampling her wares after all these years, isn't giving up on us though. She has a key tip on how to handle béchamel, the white sauce used between lasagna layers. 'You don't see béchamel when lasagne is ready to eat,' she says, with Monica adding that the sauce is there 'for keeping lasagne just a little bit softer'. In other words, a little white sauce goes a long way. The bread and butter of their business though is tortellini, the small ring-shaped pasta filled with meat that was historically served by Bolognesi at Christmas but is now sold and eaten all year round. The main rule here is to avoid smothering the golden circles of deliciousness in heavy sauces. In fact, you should probably avoid the sauce altogether, and serve it simply 'in brodo', or broth. This makes sense when you hear of the richness that goes into making the sisters' top-end tortellini: 'Pork loin cooked in butter, mortadella, Parma ham, Parmigiano 36 months old, eggs – it's that rich that you cannot hide with a sauce,' says Monica. However, she does admit to occasionally succumbing to a light sauce involving some grated parmesan, two or three spoons of the traditional broth that accompanies the tortellini and fresh cream, but says 'just a little' is plenty. 'Personally, I don't like to cover something with sauce even if it's good.' She also likes to mop up sauces with bread, believing politeness has no place in such matters. Despite being Bologna's queens of home-made pasta, the Venturi sisters do not scoff at dried pasta, especially with fish, which they say does not combine well with the eggs in fresh pasta. Unsurprisingly though, not every dried pasta passes muster. Both recommend Pasta di Gragnano, which is made by mixing durum wheat grown at the Monti Lattari in southern Italy with the local waters. Where this isn't available, a good rule of thumb, according to Monica, is to go with dried pasta with longer cooking times. In general, she says she is fairly 'straight' when it comes to Italian recipes, believing there's no reason to mess around with them when they are already proven. She shudders at 'terrible' innovations such as adding pineapple to pizza, while Daniela is ashen at the idea of 'pizza with chips'. So, after all these years of making pasta for the people of their native city, do the sisters still eat it every day? 'Oh, yeah,' they reply instantly, with the small qualification that they limit portion sizes to about 200g and avoid 'a huge amount' of sauce. They like to try other foods when travelling however, singling out Ireland's 'wonderful meat' for praise but expressing dismay at paying €4 or more for a coffee in Dublin, when a good cup can still be found for ... wait for it ... €1.30 in Bologna. Birra Moretti's Nonna's Kitchen will take place at Fumbally Stables, Dublin 8, on July 23rd and 24th. Tickets at €30 will be sold on Eventbrite from July 3rd
Irish Times
a day ago
- Irish Times
Read the headlines and wonder if everyone is on Ozempic and has ADHD? It's all a bit overwhelming
You already know that absurdity is embedded in our digital world, and yet the constant bombardment confirming as much can be utterly overwhelming. You're endlessly overloaded by conflicting information and opinions. You scroll through news of ecological disaster , war, political failure and economic instability. Then you get an ad for protein yoghurt and an artificial intelligence clip of someone telling you to quit your job and follow your dreams when the average Dublin rent is almost €2,500. Also, there's something fluttering in the back of your mind about who has nuclear weapons and who doesn't. You wonder if you should take the weight loss drug everyone is talking about, except what about that comment you saw on Instagram saying, 'my cousin is a podiatrist and said it makes your feet fall off'? You read headlines and wonder if everyone is getting a facelift and an ADHD diagnosis – it's starting to feel like it – and it all feels absurd. It is absurd – this sense of rudderless, directionless urgency strips our experience of meaning. After watching a terrifying 30-second video about muscle loss and ageing, you order some protein yoghurt. Human beings are meaning-oriented creatures. We don't do well without a sense of 'why'. Why we should get up in the morning. Why we should do the necessary things we'd rather not do. Why our lives and choices, as well as those of other people, matter. Meaning fuels us through difficulty, contextualises life's inevitable suffering and gives us a sense of fulfilment in our own effort. It prevents us from feeling that we could be replaced by an actor who looks kind of like us without anyone noticing. Without meaning – Aristotle calls it telos – the wheels fall off. A sense of meaninglessness is central to feeling clinically depressed, so while it might seem like an abstract and theoretical problem – a fruity, modern malaise – it really isn't. We are experiencing a collective crisis of meaning; the grand narratives we once bought into, and which connected us through shared belief, are no longer cutting it. This is the postmodern reality, and it's a lot of dancing tweens on TikTok and billionaires on testosterone building space shuttles and men past or pushing 80 (and who do or do not have nuclear weapons) sabre rattling on social media. It's a lot of total absurdity without a lot of meaning. READ MORE Logotherapy – the creation of Holocaust survivor and psychiatrist Viktor Frankl – is unsurprisingly seeing a resurgence lately, given our thirst for meaning. Frankl outlined it most famously in his 1946 book Man's Search for Meaning, where he introduces the 'therapeutic doctrine' he formulated. It's a form of psychotherapy that places pursuit of meaning at the centre of life. We can cope with pretty much anything, Frankl suggests (any 'how'), if we can find meaning in it (if we have a 'why'). Meaning is not given to us from outside, he says, and it can come in many forms. Like the existentialists, Frankl thought that meaning is something we create for ourselves rather than something awaiting us out in the world. Especially when we're struggling, Frankl suggests, we need a reason to navigate our way through whatever life is demanding of us. He's not about endless rumination and self-examination, though, and in an age of tedious self-optimisation and hyper-therapised narcissism, it's little wonder that people are reconnecting with Frankl's suggestion that we consider one question above any other: 'What is life asking of [me]?' [ How absurd: the world as Albert Camus saw it Opens in new window ] French-Algerian philosopher Albert Camus is another thinker who spent most of his career on questions of meaning, but he went another way with it. It makes sense that the destruction and narrative chaos of the second World War spurred these sorts of questions. It was Camus who brought the concept of absurdism into the mainstream. Unlike Frankl and people such as Jean-Paul Sartre , who agreed that there is no objective meaning to life but suggested that we create it, Camus rejected meaning altogether. Our great cause of suffering, he suggested, is our deep desire for meaning, clarity and a sense of purpose in a universe that has no inherent meaning. It offers us no answers. This is the absurdity, Camus says, our primordial desire to make sense of a senseless universe. The absurdity is not about the world being nonsensical, but about its inherent and unresolved contradiction. In our constant desire to make sense of the mayhem. [ We like to romanticise Ireland's past, but too much remembering could be bad for us Opens in new window ] We can make meaning, Frankl says, we can find it, as others suggest, or we can revolt, as Camus would put it. His approach is not about giving in to despair or becoming cynical or turning into the worst Facebook comments section troll you can imagine. It's about permitting the contradiction without trying to resolve it – looking right at the absurdity rather than away from it and being all right with it. We can't make sense of what's going on around us, but we can decide what we think about meaning, and what we're going to do with it.
