Foster Mom Training — Rewritten Version
A little history about me: I am the youngest of eleven children. My mom passed away when I was just six years old. I never really had anyone to show me how to be a mom, but somehow, it always came naturally to me.
I have twenty nieces and nephews, three great-nieces, and countless cousins I’ve babysat over the years. I’ve worked in childcare ever since I graduated from high school, always helping different families whenever I could. Looking back, I truly believed caring for children was something I was meant to do.
Little did I know, though, that three children would completely change my life.
For many years, I dreamed of becoming a foster mom. Still, I hesitated. I didn’t think someone like me—single, with no spouse or children of my own—could qualify. Doubt held me back for a long time. Eventually, I decided to do my research, ask questions, and make a few phone calls anyway.
To my surprise, I learned that all you really need is to be at least 21 years old. You can be single or married. After talking it over with my family, I decided to take the leap. At the time, I was living with my sister, but I moved into my own two-bedroom apartment and officially began the process.
In August of 2016, I contacted St. Joseph Orphanage. They sent me a schedule and a list of everything I needed to begin my training classes. The two months of classes turned out to be an emotional roller coaster.
Some classes were straightforward, while others were incredibly difficult to sit through. Hearing the stories of what many children endure in foster care brought me to tears and broke my heart. Although I lost my mom at a young age, I still had family, and I couldn’t imagine life without them. At that point, I wanted to take in every child who needed a home.
As classes came to an end, I had to choose the age range, race, and gender of children I felt prepared to foster. There was never any hesitation when it came to race—I immediately selected African American and Caucasian. Color has never mattered to me. Love is love, no matter what.
For ages, I initially thought four and five would be a good fit. After completing my classes, my home study was done, and I was approved to foster up to four children. I remember thinking, That’s a lot. Am I really ready for this? Deep down, I knew I was. It was time.
St. Joseph explained that calls could come at any moment—day or night—when a child needed immediate placement. I waited anxiously. One day, I called my case manager and mentioned that I was open to taking a baby. She added it to my profile. The very next day, my phone rang.
“We have a five-day-old baby who needs a home.”
I was stunned. Five days old? After hearing a little background, I knew I couldn’t say no. I said yes without hesitation.
On December 8, 2016, Elijah Lee Hill came into my home. The moment I saw that tiny baby, my heart dropped in the most beautiful way. I had no idea then that he would be my very first placement—and the beginning of everything.
On May 10, 2017, I received another call, this time about two sisters who needed placement. Of course, I said yes. Later that evening, there was a knock at my door, and standing there was a beautiful, petite little girl named Alexis Bowman. But she was alone.
I soon learned that her sister, Mercedes Bowman, had gotten into trouble and was placed in a group home. I made sure the sisters stayed connected. We visited whenever we could, and Mercedes loved proudly introducing Alexis to her friends at the group home.
As Elijah grew, it became clear we needed more space. We moved into a three-bedroom home, unaware that our family was still growing.
Eventually, Alexis deeply missed her sister, and Mercedes was ready to leave the group home. I spoke with the caseworker about bringing Mercedes to live with us, and she fully supported the idea. We started with overnight visits, and on March 16, 2018, Mercedes officially moved in.
Suddenly, I was a 30-year-old single mom with three children ranging in age from one to fifteen. I remember thinking, What am I doing? But the answer was simple—I loved them. They needed a home, and I had more than enough love to give. They became family instantly.
My family has never cared about color—only about children needing someone to show up for them. Yes, we’ve gotten stares in public. People have asked if I was babysitting. I always answer, “No, these are my children.” And that’s that.
I never say “foster children.” They are my children. They always have been.
When the possibility of adoption came up, I asked each of them how they felt about it. Their answers were immediate and unanimous—yes. The caseworker never doubted we belonged together and often joked, “Where have they been hiding you?”
The adoption process was intense and filled with paperwork. The children were asked thoughtful questions, including whether they wanted to keep their last names. During that time, I sometimes wondered if I was enough, if I could truly give them everything they needed.
The answer was yes—and more. My family’s support was unwavering, even when others questioned my decision. None of that mattered. The joy on my children’s faces made everything worth it.
On November 1, 2019, one of the best days of our lives arrived. We officially became Team Engleman. I went from being just me to a family of four.
To anyone who criticized me—a Black woman—for adopting three white children, this is what I say: love has no color in my home. These children are deeply loved, safe, and exactly where they belong.
I’ve been talked about my entire life, and it has never stopped me. I have a purpose, and I intend to live it fully. If fostering or adopting is in your heart, go for it. Helping a child find a home and happiness is one of the greatest feelings in the world.
It doesn’t matter if you’re single, married, divorced, Black, or white—you can change someone’s life.
