The other day in court

In some court houses you can’t sit in on other cases, but the other day, I got to sit in a watch the cases before mine was called.

I watched as the officers brought her in to the court room, her hands cuffed to her waist.  She nodded at her caseworker sitting a row over from me.  The Judge began to ramble down the list of things he always says, introducing everyone in the room.  And then the judge said “ma’am, do you understand that the State has filed a petition to terminate your parental rights?”

The woman nodded.  No change on her face.  The judge began to read the State’s petition: She had been found unfit as a parent and she had not made reasonable efforts to correct the situation.  The State was petitioning that all rights as a parent be removed from this woman because she was considered unfit and unable to parent.

Still the woman’s face did not change.

The judge continued to read through the petition and ramble about the woman’s rights etc.  He stopped at one point and said “oh yah, I remember this case” but proceeded on with no change in his expression.

Another court date was set to make the decision.   The judge smiled at the woman and told her he’d see her next time. The woman mouthed a question to her caseworker and was led out of the court room.

My heart sunk. 

How could you be told that you are unfit as a parent and not have it tear you to pieces? How could you sit, without reacting, to hearing that you are not only unfit but that the State has decided you no longer deserve to have rights as a parent?  You have failed.  You have failed to the point that some man with a robe can read through the petition, not remembering who you are, without a sign of emotion.  You have failed to the point that the attorneys and workers in the room don’t react. This is normal. This is expected. This is mundane. You have failed.

She showed no sign of emotion. 

You could judge her and scoff and be grateful that her children were no longer with her.   You could think she doesn’t care. She doesn’t feel. She doesn’t love.

But, I’ve watched my own client go through this.  I watched a young woman who was never taught to love, never given a stable home, never taught to parent, without family, with few friends,  her only support her abusive boyfriend... I watched as she tried to balance all the services, counseling, groups, and classes meant to teach her to parent well.  I watched as all of that still did not solve the brokenness that led to her being with him, him hurting her, her still relying on him, and with no strength or ability to choose her children  above the one person she believed cared about her.

I watched as she was lied to by DCFS. I watched as she again and again was hurt. I watched as the many eyes on her picked ever piece of her parenting apart.   As the foster parent, wanting to keep the baby, manipulated her and told DCFS lies.


And I've learned.


When you are told by those in power and authority that you have failed to that degree.  You believe it.  And, you believe there is no hope that you can ever come back.

Sometimes we think their lack of outward signs of emotion or them giving up fighting is proof that they don't truly care.   When in reality they are crushed, they are broken, they are weak, alone, terrified, unloved, and the only way they can survive is to numb themselves, shut down, and let those who are "just trying to help them" take away the children that love them and they love and destroy their last ounce of hope.




It's funny how I went in to this for the children and now I find I have a heart for the parents. Who know a pain most of us cannot imagine.




“How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher?”  ~Romans 10:14


In Christ
~Michelle