What's Your Story?: Kinship Carers

What’s Your Story?

Writing on the Wall Kuumba Imani Millennium Centre 4, Princes Road, Liverpool L8 1TH Published by Writing on the Wall 2014 Š Remains with authors Design and layout by Rosa Murdoch ISBN: 978-0-9928323-9-1 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

0151 703 0020 info@writingonthewall.org.uk www.writingonthewall.org.uk

What’s Your Story?

CAMHS NANS

Contents Foreword

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Why Am I Here Today?

1

Worry Is

13

Item of Clothing

19

Changes I'd Like To See

29

Positives

41

If I Won The Lottery

49

Letter To A Friend

55

Grandchildren's piece

63

Collaborative Pieces

69

Foreword I lived with my nan, a feisty Irish woman, for many years when I was a child. She was one of the most important people in my life, and I still think about her often. It was her kindness I admired, and her refusal to let life get her down.

From observing her, one thing I know for sure, is no matter what happens in our lives the only thing we have control of is how we react to those things. In that respect, this is a book about life choices, about how you choose to feel inside when the unthinkable happens, and, ultimately, about the positive impact one person can make on another person’s world.

Some of the work presented here is painful to read; some of the work is inspirational, some pieces will make you laugh.

There are people who have made a real difference to the four Grandmothers, which was encouraging to hear. What needs to be heard too is the injustice contained within these pages, people being let down, and ignored, by systems that were supposedly put in place to help them. That matters, because people matter.

I would like to thank Marge, Kathy, Bernadette and Julie, for sharing their experiences with me, for working hard to write their pieces, resulting in this important book in which their voices can at last be heard. Thanks to their grandchildren, for their thoughtful contributions.

To Mike, Madeline, and Rosa, and all at Writing on the Wall, for championing these unheard voices.

Debbie Morgan

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Why Am I Here Today?

1

Marjorie Jones I have always wanted to write a book on the situation we found ourselves in rearing four Grandchildren which were taken away from my daughter Johanna by Social Services.

The pain and experience I have had from this journey, as I call it, needed to be told. I tried on my own to do it, went to a writing course, and it did nothing for me. We just talked about writers and nothing else, most of the group stopped going, but I stayed to get my money’s worth, then put in a complaint about how bad the group tutor was.

Hazel, our support person in CAMHS (Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services) found this group and writer, and I was over the moon. I am here today to try and write the book about my daughter’s life, and how she lost her children, taken away by Social Services, and we as a family receiving them. The effect it has had on our family life, and our relationship as a couple. I hope it will help some other families who find themselves in our position.

I love the building, the room, the tutor and the biscuits. I enjoying listening to other Nan’s lives and experiences, and watching us all grow in our writing.

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My child went to Dovedale Road School till eleven years old.

She was a nice, good mannered, pleasant girl, caused no problems to teachers. We knew she found the work hard, especially the maths, but we were always told she was a nice pleasant girl who would find work; not a high flying job, but she would be alright. Next Calderstones Secondary School (comprehensive). She ended up with no qualifications, and no one picked up she had special needs, because she never disrupted class or brought attention to herself.

She was a ‘Thatcher’ child. Jobs went and schemes came in – no jobs at the end of them. She went to work in a hotel down South for a few weeks, waiting on, but she couldn’t do it. She went down with heaters, an electric kettle, heavy duvets because the staff quarters had none, but she got fired with no bus fare home. She had to go to the police station asking them for help. We sent money to another police station for her and another young girl, who had been put out on the streets with no money, to find a Bed & Breakfast late at night. We got in touch with a Y.M.C.A. and they would only help if they had the money first, so the police got the money we sent from Liverpool Police Station to them. Jimmy, her Dad, drove down early next morning to collect her to bring her home. He was very angry with the hotel for the way she had been treated and went to the staff room to collect her stuff. We had a good laugh because he took everything back including the big radiator that was really hot, being used in the staff room. He put it on his shoulder to carry it, said he was sweating carrying it to the car but would not let them have it.

My daughter was manageable till seventeen years of age, she met a young lad who had loads of problems and ended up in an offenders’ institute. But she found this life exciting, and would stay out and we would be looking for her worried 3

sick, staying out all night, never knowing where she was or what had happened to her. Our lives were just a nightmare, and we used to get angry at each other, blaming ourselves, wondering what we had done wrong.

She got pregnant at 21 years old and had no regular partner, so another nightmare began. She couldn’t look after herself, never mind a baby. She had never worked in a proper job and had no place of her own. We had just moved house with a garden and extra space, so we gave her a bedsit that had a door leading out to the back garden, put a sink in the corner so she could be self-sufficient. We gave her 110% support, having the baby and when Danielle was born. She asked me to be with her when she delivered the baby, which was a wonderful experience. She was perfect and weighed 6 lb, a good weight for my small, skinny daughter to produce.

My Granddaughter was loved from the minute we set eyes on her. My son, 7 years older, and not pleased about his sister’s pregnancy, not married, no Dad, no place of her own.

When he went in the hospital to see her, he came back and said to me ‘That’s one cute baby’, and she has been special to him from day one. He took her father’s role and he is still very important in her life. After the delivery ended we took our daughter and her baby up to the ward. It really was such a very sad experience. It was visiting time in the ward and all the new Dad’s visiting their new babies with happy faces nursing their babies, so proud, and the Mother’s being made so special by new Dads. My daughter was really upset crying.

We stayed till visiting was over and tried to cheer her up but we felt angry our Grandchild had no loving Dad looking at her like she was special. I thought of all the men who don’t take responsibility for their children with hate. My Grandchild had started her life with a disadvantage through no fault of her own. We left our Daughter after all the visitors had gone and 4

walked slowly away looking back at her. She was so small, she looked like a little girl with a red flushed face. When we got outside it was dark and a big clear moon was shining down. We had been there all day. I felt like, did this child belong to us or would some stranger come and take her away from us?

I decided I felt so happy and content that our grandchild had arrived safe, and my daughter was through the birth, safe, I wasn’t going to let thinking about the future spoil this happy day for us. We would love our grandchild like she belonged to us and enjoy this beautiful child. We looked up at the big shining moon and felt all was well in the world.

When we arrived home our Son had gone out with his friends and got drunk. We told him about our grandchild’s arrival, and told him how beautiful she was and he needed to see her, which he did the first thing the next day.

Marjorie Jones

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Bernadette Whyte I am here today to tell people about my life with my grandchildren. The bad times and the good times.

The way they are given to you without any help or advice, or understanding about what has happened to them.

When you tell people about their behaviour, and what is going on in school, there is no support or help. That changed when I went to CAMHS where I met other Nans. They have similar problems to my own, the support from them has helped me.

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Over the past fifteen years there have been many highs and lows, unfortunately, too many were lows. At first it was due to the lack of support, but then we were introduced to ‘Looked After Children and Adolescents Mental Health Services’ (LAC C.A.M.H.S.), which was set up for foster carers or guardians. This service was to help the children with problems. It was great because you knew if there was trouble all you had to do was pick up the phone and help was there.

I have gained knowledge from courses such as, self – soothing, ADHD courses and some of the courses you had to attend with Social Services. Sadly, that service has been taken away, and we have been directed to CAMHS for all children, which is not the same, as it now takes a while to get help, then you can be taken off the list, if things seem to improve; you have to start the whole process again if you need help at another time.

One good thing that came out of LAC CAMHS was the Nans’ Group, which was formed for families who have fostered or taken guardianship of their relatives, be it grandchildren, nieces or nephews etc. The Group offers support and listens to their problems and understands what they were going through. I don’t know how I would have got through things at times if it wasn’t for their support and the support of their families.

The children bring so much joy, but there is also a lot of pain. There needs to be more support out there, which people are told about instead of having to be ‘in the know.’

For these children to have a good positive future they need help and support.

Thank you to the Doctors at Alder Hey who diagnosed the condition, the school and teachers who gave support, out of school activities where the instructor had knowledge and

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understanding, also the Reader Organisation who would come to our homes and read.

Bernadette Whyte

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Julie Howard I am here today because of things that have happened in my life that you cannot help, it is help. We met as a group about four years ago because we all have care of our grandchildren.

If we have any problems we can ask for help. The group was called CAMHS Nan’s. It started and we did self-soothing classes, and we could all talk to each other about our problems because we understand each other. There are some things you can’t tell other people, they might not understand. As a group we have gone on to do other things and we help each other. I think you need that support.

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Kathy Feeley I am here today to help other Nans who have care of their grandchildren, and for future Nans to get an insight into how bringing up your grandchild or grandchildren can have a dramatic and traumatic experience on your own life and that of your family and friends. How your whole life changes at times for the better, but there are also down times. When you feel like saying that word, ‘Why?’, ‘Why me?’ But then you come back and think you are lucky because you know your grandchild is safe and that’s all that matters; their happiness and stability in life. And that’s why we strive to achieve that as best we can, and help them understand the reasons they have been placed in our care and keep reassuring them they are loved very much.

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I divorced in 1975-6 and remarried in 1979. I had my son in 1980. My life was ok, my Husband and I both worked hard. In 2007 my son was still living at home, working, meeting different girls. Then he had a child himself. The relationship was not good; there was violence, drink, drugs. I involved Social Services. Then came the break. I was pleased, as this was very traumatic for all involved. My son came home, Social Services were not helpful at this stage. I didn’t feel they were listening to my concerns or the Health Visitors; a child needed their help. Five referrals were made to them.

Access was very little and my Son had started court proceedings for contact.

Then out the blue came that phone call, the hospital. Our grandchild had been admitted with lots of injuries, 12 months old. We all had to visit the Social Services’ office, again a visit at our home, and with this comes a stigma. Some people believe if you have Social Services in your life you must be a bad person, or have done something bad, even when telling friends you feel they only half believe you. I didn’t find they all helped me or my husband or son. We felt we were on trial for something we had no part in. They never listened to our concerns in the first place. Had they have done so, we wouldn’t have been here today. Over the months we had not one constant Social Worker, it was 4 or 5 all talking about how much help Mum would get this skill, that skill. Made me sick. Some had not even read the case files, they said they had too many to read; I thought it was a joke, them saying they would read it that day or night. Then to be told you were going to be assessed, CRB checked. We, as a family, were devastated having them go right back to your own childhood, for what? Because we were not told 11

until later in the case we could foster our Grandchild. ‘Foster’ I thought ‘My God my Grandchild is with complete strangers, already in foster care’. We had done nothing wrong, nearly 1 ½ years this all took, the courts, Social Services, far too long a process. We felt like criminals, it was devastating.

Kathy Feeley

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Worry Is…

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Worry Is‌ My feet, worn out in places.

Dishes, never put away, piled high.

Eating too much food, It appears in the wrong places.

To never board a plane to enjoy visiting wonderful places Losing my sense of humour, dying last in the family.

Marjorie Jones

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Worry Is‌ My back; if it goes It stops me from living.

The unused bedroom With piles of ironing lying in wait.

To my friend, Winnie, I said, I like your pinny, To my surprise she was offended, It was a dress.

That was our friendship ended.

In the cafe, with my friend expecting pea soup I got the peas, she got the water, The worst thing was They had the cheek to charge her!

That I’ll never get the chance to fly in a hot air balloon, The wind blowing against my face, Taking my breath away Having the feeling of walking on air.

Bernadette Whyte

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Worry Is… The bunion on my foot, I feel like it’s winking at me.

Going the toilet after my Grandson, Who’s missed, peed all over the floor.

Corned beef hash, all squashy With beans, Yuk!!

Slipping on ice outside school, And showing my knickers.

I’ll never go wing-walking Feel the wind on my face, see the world below me.

Julie Howard

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Worry Is‌ At this time now in my life my worry is, will this little one who has been in my care for 3 ½ years be removed? I feel wrong decisions may be made with authorities as this is happening so very frequently and having terrible consequences and bad effects on these children. They are too young to make their own decisions, it has been said they have been known to put vulnerable children at risk, how deeply shocking is this? It simply cannot go on, it is unacceptable.

Kathy Feeley

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Item Of Clothing

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Our Courting Days - Bold Street In the late fifties, when my husband Jimmy and I were courting and had no money to go to the pictures, we would dress up and go out for a walk.

Money was short, our wages were poor, and we were saving up to get married. No television, computers or mobile phones to entertain us. Cars were for the posh people who had lots of money. So walking was what we did. We chose to go for a walk down Bold Street just on the outside of the town centre. Lots of different shops, especially shops which sold furniture, beautiful wood made by carpenters, much too expensive for us, but we would look and pretend we could furnish our rooms. Young people in our day started married life in two rooms with his family or mine, no-one could possibly dream about living in their own flat, or buying a house.

We always linked each other, my right arm through his left arm and the woman walked on the inside, which going back in history was the man protecting his lady by having his sword hand free.

Jimmy, my husband, was a man who loved all the modern dress of the time. He wore 3 piece suits; jacket, pants and waistcoat, for going out to posh places like the big dances in St Georges Hall, for ballroom dancing and live big bands. He liked long jackets and tight pants with hand stitched lapels and hand stitched seams down the front of his pants. We would go to the small church halls, The Grafton, which was mostly to a dance called bebopping and jiving; haircuts like Elvis Presley, commonly known as a ‘Duck’s Arse’, because they combed the back of their hair slicked back on each side 20

meeting in the middle, cropped on top. He would only wear leather shoes with steeled capped heels that made a noise when he walked. He had different types of shirts and ties to match his suits. They didn’t use aftershave in the 50’s, but I can remember the smell of Juicy Fruit chewing gum being popular. To dress this way we all had what was called the ‘Jew Man’, and got our clothes on credit. We paid top prices at 50p per week, they collected at the house.

My memory of my husband is of a well-dressed man, with long legs and a personality that made me laugh. I dressed more traditionally, smart coats and dresses, shoes and handbags had to match in colour, always gloves to match, nylon stockings and suspender belts to hold them up. My hair was dark and naturally curly, I always had it cut short all over my head, and it was called a ‘curly cut’. High-heeled shoes, long slim heels and cut down sides, always leather or suede, which had to last for years.

We also had very flat shoes and long straight black skirts with big slits up the front and back, sweaters different colours to change each week so we looked different. We wore big earrings; large gold hoops or long dangling ones.

We all paid for our clothes on the weekly 2/6, now known as 25 pence, on sweaters and skirts, but for our coats and suits we paid 5 shillings (50p) to the ‘Jew Man’. We always wore good brassieres called ‘Berlei’, we had big pointed boobs to stick out in our sweaters.

The fifties music was excellent: Rock and Roll had just come out. Bill Haley and the Cornets had just come out; they played ‘Rock Around the Clock’. Chubby Checker and his ‘Twist Dance’ was all the rage. Different social groups were known as Mods and Rockers. Jimmy was in the Rockers group 21

known as ‘Teddy Boys’ and went to different places to dance.

The Mods went to The Locarno and the Rialto dances and dressed more sensibly in slacks and jumpers for males and dresses for the girls. I belonged to both groups, dressed to fit in to Jimmy’s world, and joined the Mods when out with my Mod friends.

Looking back, if there is one thing I would change it would be not wearing my Berlei bar strap so high, which later in life caused problems in my shoulders.

Marjorie Jones

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1992 It was getting near to my daughter’s wedding. It was time to look for something to wear. My mother, daughter and myself decided to take a trip to Southport. We set off by train. When we arrived we were met by the hustle and bustle of people, walking up and down and in and out of the shops. We decided to walk from the top to the bottom of Lord Street.

There were so many different types of clothes to choose from dresses, long, short, suits with skirts, suits with pants, although there were so many different types.

We were beginning to feel deflated, until we arrived at the last shop. Then I saw it, a vibrant turquoise suit, which stood out above the rest. I was drawn to the elegant style, the 1940’s classic tailoring. I looked at my mum and she looked at me with an approving smile. I was feeling quite excited about trying it on, scared in case it wouldn’t look as lovely. I carefully pulled on the skirt ¾ in length fitted perfect, then the jacket with two buttons fitted in at the waist. I looked in the mirror, even though I had no shoes or hat on or anything, I knew it was the one. I felt elegant and sophisticated. When the assistant gave me the hat, shoes and bag, all in the same colour and material, it was just complete. My mum said ‘I’ll buy you that’.

When I look back on that special day I felt I did my daughter proud, remembering all the compliments that were given to me. I felt the part. I remember the comments people made, ‘Bernadette you look amazing’, ‘Oh that suit is beautiful’ ‘I didn’t recognise you then, you look great’. I felt all those things and more. It made me realise I had chosen the right outfit; I could trust my own judgement about choosing to feel good.

Bernadette Whyte 23

First Part – Shopping – Clothes It was 1978 and I was working in Butlins in Pwllheli as a waitress with my friends, Joan and Pauline. It was a lovely summer that year; we would look forward to our days off.

A typical day off work for me and my friends was to go clothes shopping with our hard-earned wages.

We would start off by going to the café for a big fry-up breakfast. The smell of bacon even now reminds me of our fun shopping days. After breakfast, we would make our way to the bus stop to catch the bus to the town centre. Once at the town centre we would head to the little shops in Pwllheli where we knew we would find a bargain.

This particular time stands out for me, because at the time Grease, the movie, was very big, and we all wanted to look like Sandy. In one shop I saw the most amazing pair of black skin-tight pants hanging up. They looked just like the ones Sandy wore. The trousers fitted perfectly, so next on my list was a top to match it. Next we went to the market, to all our favourite stalls. After a lot of looking I found the perfect one. It was brilliant white off the shoulder and fitted like a glove. I was so happy and felt a million dollars on our night out in my new clothes.

I was so happy with my new clothes, I felt like Sandy from Grease and we did a dance in the mirror to You’re the One that I Want. My friend, Joan, was Danny and I was Sandy.

Julie Howard

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1969-70 Leave school Friday 18 July, start work Monday James Laver printing Mum got me the job, it was advertised in the Liverpool Echo.

Multilith Operator, couldn’t even pronounce it, never mind do it. But Mum said you will work like your older brother and sister and work I did. I loved it. Earning a wage only paying Mum £7 a week keep, great.

Well, there I was first wage packet, Chelsea Girl here I come! Miniskirts; loved them, my favourite. Thursdays pay day, there I was rushing down Hanover Street clutching my little brown envelope my first wage packet. I passed Ayrton Sanders full of energy, the road went on forever. I was thinking: not going to make it before the doors close at my favourite shop. Heart pumping, little legs going ten to the dozen. Well I got there pushing, shoving, smiling. I’ve made it, to find that little bit of excitement I always felt when buying new clothes. Time was getting on and I started to panic, no outfit for my night out. Then there it was sticking out like a knob on a bedpost. My miniskirt, suede patches – pink, grey, green, yellow and that turquoise blue – scalloped edge and shiny silver stud buttons all the way down the front. ‘Klick-klick’, loved that sound. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror smiling from ear to ear.

I got home ‘Here’s your wages Mum, don’t want tea’. I handed her £7, she smiled and said ‘Thanks, I’ll give you a pound a day back for bus fare’. Up the stairs I went, hair, bath – clothes waiting on the bed.

Near broke my neck coming downstairs to show my new skirt 25

to my mum and dad. They were sitting in the living room, I opened the door, Mum was lying on the couch, I could see her through the mirror over the fireplace wall, it was large and scalloped just like my miniskirt. Dad had his back to me as I entered but turned his head with a rollie in his hand. The room was smoky. I paraded myself in the middle of the room waiting for ‘You look nice love’, like they always said to my older sister with her gloves and bag to match. Dad looked at Mum and just like they had been put on timers, together they said ‘Bloody belt, not a skirt, where do you think you’re going in that it’s like a patchwork quilt?’ and they laughed out loud. I didn’t care, I loved it. Out the door I went still excited not a care in the world. What a good night that was.

Every week come Thursday there I was in and out of Chelsea Girl, C&A; working, partying. This was a great time in my life.

Although my older sister Anne always told me I was a disgrace. She was so prim and proper, worked in the English Electric Office, saved her wages in a bank. ‘You’re a mess’ she would always say to me and my younger sister, but we didn’t care. We called her a ‘little snot’.

My sister Lou loved my clothes, but she was still at school and had to wear what Mum bought her, mostly from T.J. Hughes. We didn’t have to put up with Alice for long, she went and got married in 1971. Well, there I was in 1972 thinking it’s time I wed, but before that came Hot Pants, well Miniskirts were short but Hot Pants were up your bum, showed off your shape a real treat, covered what only you wanted to see. Trouble was they were all the same pink, blue, green – thick cotton. No I said, I’m having a pair made.

Well I was earning a good wage as a printer (oh that’s what a multilith operator is) so I went and had these hot pants made 26

in black wet look material with a bib. I loved them, and the attention that came with them, dancing my little legs of down Tessy’s, The Sandon – me and Mac doing the shuffle, in to town, The Triton.

Kathy Feeley

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Changes I’d Like To See

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Foetal Alcohol Syndrome My beautiful grandchild big brown eyes, a smile that would light your life up. Because of his mum’s drinking before he was born, this caused his brain to be wired different from other children. He will never be self-sufficient in his life, to live alone without support.

In school he had lots of help and support at his level. His mum didn’t do this intentionally, she had no idea what alcohol was doing, especially the first 3 months of being pregnant. Foetal Alcohol Syndrome has been around for a long time, it’s just got a name now.

Marjorie Jones

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What Changes Are Needed?

Starting from the beginning, what changes are needed to be made for the benefit of the children? As soon as you look at the baby’s face you instantly fall in love and agree to take the baby, to love, protect and be their guardians. But then the goalpost was changed and we had to be assessed to become foster parents. All this precious time is being wasted, and the baby has to be put into care. It takes 10 months, unnecessarily. You think, ‘I have already been a parent myself, it would not be a problem’, but then life changes completely.

It begins with being given two children, not knowing anything about them, or their family history, or what to expect. You tell their social worker what is happening or any concerns. Some listen some don’t. Sadly social workers kept changing, so the children had no stability with them. They would not know who they were going with, and had no sense of ‘stranger danger’.

Each new social worker had different ideas. One came in and decided they would be better off with Mum and took them away for six weeks. This did so much damage which had to be repaired. One child’s behaviour became so bad it was decided he needed ‘statementing’, and a special school would be beneficial. The Education decided on a behaviour school, and Social Services agreed with them, but would not listen to me, the foster carer, or the school he was attending.

This should not have been the case, but they would not listen. It took two years to get the child out, in the meantime causing more damage and now learnt behaviour.

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There is no understanding of the children; they are more like names on a piece of paper. Instead of asking the person who looks after the children, who knows them best. Then the idea is as they become older just buy them off with vouchers, and ask them if they would like anything such as a laptop?

Now, as a teenager and starting to get into trouble, the social services realise buying them off does not work, so then she returns to Mum for her behaviour to escalate to another level. Again this broke down, so the teenager then returns to care, to the leaving team, being encouraged to get a flat so the person is all alone and most importantly off the books.

Over the years my experience has not been good with Social Services. They have to realise that every child is different and should be treated as individuals, not as a group.

There is a lot of work to be done with Social Services, as they need to change to benefit the children of the future.

Unfortunately, foster carers in the family do not get the same support as other foster carers. I do not understand why not, what is the difference?

In my experience when children have problems and they are in care, Social Services choose to ignore them, or is it they have not had any training for children in these cases?

One of the children had a few things wrong which turned out to be complex. It took many more years for this child to be diagnosed than it should have. When a complaint has been made it is as though they make things harder for you in the future.

When I became involved with CAMHS that is when things seemed to change for the better. They helped you with any training which could be beneficial to you and the family. You got to meet people who had experiences that were the same 32

or similar that you could talk about, which gave a good deal of support and to know that you’re not alone. Their support helped me through some very tough times. This should be available for anyone who needs this service. When I got involved with CAMHS it was called LAC CAMHS they had special training for looked after children. So again they had more understanding of the children’s needs. This team should never have been taken away, these children need this service, and the adults who are there for the best interests of the child. This is something Social Services need to learn.

Bernadette Whyte

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Special Guardianship My first experience with Social Workers was one of mutual distrust. Bearing in mind the situation of our meeting, it was understandable. My meetings with Social Workers were about my granddaughter, but because of my daughter’s past I felt I had to prove myself.

This at first made me resentful, but as time went on, myself and my Social Worker formed a good relationship. But just when you get to know and trust your Social Worker they leave, and you get a new Social Worker and have to relive all that has gone on in your past, and they have to get to know you. I have seen both good and bad with my experience of Social Services, and many times have felt frustrated. You feel like you are the one who has done wrong. My granddaughter was with a Foster Family for 12 months before she came to live with us. It took another 3 years before we got Guardianship. It was 3 years of family group meetings, in and out of court, CRB checks on all your family and having to get references. It took a long time but we now have a special Guardianship.

I got through this with the help of CAMHS and the other Nans in the Nans’ Group.

Julie Howard

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CAMHS Nans Group I found out about Special Guardianship and mentioned it to Social Services. I was told ‘no’. Then came another Social Services and I was told, ‘Yes if I went before a fostering panel’. Firstly, one organisation does not know what the other does, they have too many caseloads, work very long hours and I felt this was where BIG MISTAKES WERE MADE and they were having a big impact on children’s welfare. Our Grandchild should have been put in our care long before he was. Don’t be fooled by having Guardianship; it says till the child is 18 years old when in fact it can be contested 3 times in court to be dissolved by the parents. But the day you get that Guardianship feels like you won the lottery.

This little child is placed in your care, traumatised by what they have experienced in their short little lives, and when you try to get help for them, who do you turn to? CAMHS. After months pass, you are practically begging for help from someone. You eventually get referral for the ‘After Guardianship’ team. My Grandchild was diagnosed as having Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Again you are heartbroken; at 3 years old to be diagnosed with this is so upsetting you yourself need help.

That’s when I was introduced to CAMHS Nan’s Group, who have helped me 1,000 per cent and my Grandchild through self-soothing classes. I can now see the light at the end of the tunnel, but every day is different with these kids.

We say they are damaged; we have to do all we can to help them and fight for them as most do not have a voice, so we will be it for them. We have to be. I hope this helps someone going through the same or similar to know there are people out there who can help you other than Social Services.

Kathy Feeley 35

Marjorie and Jimmy, 1954 ‘Our Courting Days’

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Bernadette, 1992 in her turquoise suit

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Julie and friends, 1978 working at Butlins

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Kathy, 1969 wearing her custom made hot pants

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Positives About Caring For Grandchildren

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Positive Things from Taking my Grandchildren to Care For When my granddaughter received her University Degree, 2-1 in Criminology, standing in her cap and gown, and looking beautiful with big high heeled shoes. All of my family were waiting outside the Liverpool Cathedral, my son and I inside, being informed we could show how proud we felt any way we wanted when she received her degree. We stood up and shouted ‘Well done Danielle!’ There were smiles all around us.

My grandson was seven years old when he joined the Family Martial Arts, and in his black outfit and white belt looked so important. His first certificate was for the best new candidate. Mr Rolls, his Black Belt instructor, said, ‘This person is the first here, never late, stands the tallest, kicks the highest, shouts the loudest’. We stood up and cheered and jumped up and down, and had tears in our eyes when he received his certificate. He stayed till he was eighteen, had earned every colour belt and finished up with 5 Black belts.

He was enrolled to be an instructor but found out lots of things like using phones, looking after money; very difficult skills. He never managed to finish the course. Later we found out he suffered from Asperger’s.

We managed to hold on to our adopted granddaughter, with her adopted family. They liked us and understood we were a normal family even though we had a Daughter who had problems. I love my granddaughter’s adopted Mum and Dad; they are like my own children. My granddaughter has two families who love her and she knows and loves all her own brothers and sisters. She also knows about what happened and why she went for adoption. We now understand our daughter had mental health problems, she is still loved by her dad and myself.

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Through pain and situations you are forced into having to grow and learn. For example, my life is completely different from when I had my children, and has changed for the positive. I look and understand a lot more about growing up; sex as it is today, drugs, boyfriends, girlfriends, sleeping together. I may not like it, but I have to learn how I can fit in to today’s society. I got my grandchildren in time to be able to have helped them have a better chance in life.

When Matthew got his very first Black Belt you had to give a red rose on a long stem to the person you believed helped you the most. All the class, parents, instructors, were at the Bootle Town Hall after Matthew’s speech, which was his; he worked on it. He walked over to me and he presented me with the red rose. My heart just overflowed. I hugged him and he hugged me and the tears flowed. I couldn’t stop crying with joy for my grandson’s achievements; after a seven year shit start to his life, here he was in front of me, a survivor. When I finished crying I noticed most Mums who were with their proud children had tears in their eyes. What a day. I am sitting writing it now and can feel the emotions in my stomach and tears in my eyes of happiness of such memories.

The women, men and children I have met on this journey have been a privilege to know. What pain, dramas and heartbreak they have suffered, and survived. It has been a really positive experience. I thank them for all the help, love and understanding they have shown me, which I couldn’t have got from anyone else.

Marjorie Jones

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Positives As I look back over the years of looking after my grandchildren, thinking of all the positives, I remember when my grandson came to live with me at 10 months old, and could not sit up unaided or stand up. So I began by sitting him on the floor with me sitting at the back supporting him, then gradually moving away as he gained strength in his body. Eventually he learnt to sit up. Then I began to place his feet on top of mine, and holding his hands would walk around the room, to help encourage the walking motion and build his strength.

As a baby and a young child my grandson never smiled, always had sad eyes. Then suddenly he smiled, which was a fantastic feeling. It felt as though we were starting to make progress.

My granddaughter did not know how to play, or even have a teddy bear in the cot, but now she has a favourite teddy which she still has today and takes it wherever she goes. I remember when we would go to the park with their bikes, and then one day taking the stabilizers off to teach them how to ride. It was great fun, one took a bit longer than the other, but that didn’t matter, as they were both soon riding round the park together as happy as can be.

As both grandchildren were growing up they started to bring home certificates from school, swimming, brownies, cubs, football and other activities, displaying their achievements.

When they made their communion or when they made or bought me a Birthday card or Christmas card. Or when they have made me a present in school.

My grandson’s great achievements in bricklaying make me feel proud. His tutor says he has a talent, producing work 44

that the other boys haven’t even completed yet. And my granddaughter achieving her GCSE’S and hoping to go on to college to gain some A levels, to be able to go on to University, and achieve her dream job.

The best feeling is when they tell me they love me.

Bernadette Whyte

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My Life My life changed for the better when my grandson came to stay with me when he was 4 years old. My mornings are louder and happier and my house is filled with laughter.

My life is a lot busier at weekends, which I love. The house is now never quiet. There are always lots of my Grandson’s little friends at our house.

I do things I would not have done if he was not here. We go swimming, the park, bike rides. I have made new friends.

We go abroad on holiday, go to the fun parks, water parks, things you could not have done on your own. He comes home from school and tells you what he’s done that day. He has a tent in the garden that his toys camp in, because he says it’s fun for them to camp out, but not him, because he likes his bed too much. He has friends round for tea and we have picnics in the garden. My life is now lots of fun.

Julie Howard

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Homework Fun in the house, games in the Park Oh how we laugh, when having a lark Homework is good when reading aloud Doing 3 times tables out loud Waking at 7, oh we are so late Next breaking our necks to catch the school gate Falling asleep on each other’s knee, A smile on my face he fills me with glee He asks me daily how much I love him?

Millions and thousands, the stars and the moon He answers, ‘Oh Nannie I love you much more’ How wonderful is he, my grandson, the world to me.

Kathy Feeley

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If I Won The Lottery

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Lifted I would spend my lottery money with joy My family financially cared for Sunshine village in Egypt, Children’s future safe and secure Wishes come true for my friends Exciting journeys to places we could afford My own Nursery Where children would reach their own potential Face life, boob lift and any other lift needed.

Marjorie Jones

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If I Won the Lottery I would see to it that children Who need a one-to-one Education would have it.

To have someone to take them out, To do the things they enjoy doing.

Someone who understands their needs.

Someone on the end of the phone when needed.

To keep services open that they need, To stop them from all closing down.

Just to see them happy And to keep them safe.

Bernadette Whyte

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My Legacy I’d build a place where children could play And feel safe.

I’d buy a farm And have lots of animals.

I’d learn to swim and go back to school and listen more.

I would like my legacy to be That I was a good Nan and made my Grandson’s life happy.

To be a farmer, grow my own food, Let families have a holiday.

Julie Howard

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My Legacy I’d like to leave a fortune to those without a home To those who‘ve never been cared for, and just been left alone To those who have no childhood and have suffered so severe To have someone to listen to, all that they’ve been through To comfort and console them, this would be my Will.

Kathy Feeley

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The Importance Of Friendship

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Dear Rose, What a time we had in Benidorm when we had our week’s holiday together. We always manage to find things that make us laugh; it’s great having the same sense of humour.

Both our lives are so stressful, with having our grandchildren to bring up, but we always try to have some fun. What did your family think of your beautiful rose tattoo on your shoulder? Were they shocked or pleased? My own family were in shock when I showed them my beautiful coloured butterfly tattoo. My son said, ‘Why did you have it done, you look like a typical Benidorm type?’

I said ‘You’ve got them’, He replied ‘Yes, I was seventeen not seventy’.

Rose, I don’t care what they say, I feel really good about it. I prefer a tattoo to a clock. What a laugh when we got up to sing on the karaoke, we couldn’t keep up with the words, and finished up laughing and people clapping us.

What a lucky break when we meet up at Mary Bamber Convalescent Home (M.B.C.H.). I was not very impressed when I saw and heard you on the bus going there, but when I got to know you we never stopped laughing together. I knew we would keep in touch when we got back to Liverpool, and we have had some really good times together. I hope your family are well and not causing you too many problems. Have you been to the doctor’s about your bad back? You promised me you would.

My own life has been very painful. My son and grandson are coming home from Spain to stay here for 12 months.

What happened to my dream when my Son took him to 56

Spain to live with him 7 years ago to the big expensive school he teaches in? He was to go to University and get his cap and gown, meet a beautiful Spanish girl, marry and have children and live happy ever after in Spain. I have been heartbroken helping him to pack all his stuff to put in storage.

Can we meet up when you have time? I need to talk and laugh with someone who understands what’s happening in my life. We are so lucky to have found each other, and can laugh even when our hearts are being broken.

Love and best wishes to you and yours Margie (M.B.C.H.) PS: I am getting my other shoulder tattooed when I’m eighty, are you game?

Marjorie Jones

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Dear Rose, How are you and the family? How has work been, did you get your promotion? You deserve it all the hard work you do.

I thought I would write and tell you about my life changing news. It has all happened so fast, I don’t know where to start. A few months ago I received a phone call from the Women’s Hospital saying my son, and his girlfriend, had a baby boy born premature. The mother was not able to look after him so it was put to me and my husband to have the option to foster him when he came out of hospital. After some talking, we agreed to take the challenge on, thinking it was only one, but soon found out there was actually two children – a little girl of 18 months, who has been living in temporary foster care after her mother could not look after her, because she could not cope.

It has been a couple of weeks since I have had the children I feel like telling them to take them back because it is so hard, it is not like having your own children, they seemed so easy. Was it because I had them young and together so they were in a routine? It seemed easy and a natural part of life. These two seem hard work, needing a lot of attention but in different ways.

The thought of now having to start over for another twenty years is daunting I thought having reared my own it would not matter, there wouldn’t be a problem, but it is so different, and having added complications of different bodies entering in and out of their lives is so frustrating, and confusing for the children, as they don’t know who they are, or where they come from. With all these people you would think there would be some form of support somewhere, but no, you are just left to get on with it.

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I have now decided I took these two innocent children on and I am going to continue looking after them as they are part of my life now; I could not imagine life without them even though it is hard. I just hope to be directed to some sort of support in the future.

I have enclosed some photographs of the children, hopefully you will see them soon when you come to visit, which I can’t wait for, it has been a while this time since we saw each other.

Well, take care, send my love to all the family.

Love, your friend, Joan

Bernadette Whyte

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Dear Joan, I wanted you to know that you have been a good friend. You are the person I turn to when I have a problem. You are always ready to offer an ear, to listen.

The last time we got together it was your birthday. You had a party with all of your friends and family. We had a lovely time. You had just got out of hospital. You were recovering from a stroke. It isn’t always easy when you’re not feeling well, wishing that each day could bring you strength and a healthier, happier you.

Wishing you all the best and a speedy recovery.

Lots of love, Julie x x Julie Howard

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Hi Jan, Not heard from you since our fundraising night, hope you had a good time and things are ok with you?

Just a note to let you know how the little one is at school.

At home he’s funny. He is doing really good at the minute.

His reading has improved a lot and he is really good with phonics. It’s all changed how they teach today at school. Not like when we were there. Adds, takeaways (Ha), but he is doing great. I’m so proud.

I was pleased to see you at our fundraiser night supporting our cause. As you know it is so important to us ‘Kinship Nan’s’. I would just like to say our friendship over 50 years has been such an inspiration. When you believe somebody else believes in you, and supports all you do. I want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart, for being my best friend, and being there every time.

Hope to see you soon, Love Kath xx Kathy Feeley

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Pieces From Our Grandchildren

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Nan You’re An Angel The name of a warrior The name that inspires me everyday The person I look up to in everyway You’re the one person I keep close You’re my rock The world’s greatest cook The one who hugs me and cheers me up The one who stays strong The person who never gives up God gave me an angel He called her Nan An angel you are but you’re also my Nan Marjorie Jones

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Rachelle Living with my grandma was the best thing in the world because not only was she my Grandma she was also my best friend.

Grandma taught me right from wrong; she also taught me to be myself and not change for anyone. One of the most important things grandma ever said to me was, it’s not good to have loads of friends, but it’s good to have real ones.

When I was upset grandma would comfort me and tell me everything will be okay. When I was angry Grandma would calm me down. Grandma was, and still is, my rock, because no matter what happens I know that she will always be there to support me. My grandma has been more than a Grandma to me, she’s been a mum to me as she helped me to grow up to be a polite 17 year old.

Bernadette Whyte

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Julie Howard

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Kathy Feeley

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Collaborative Pieces

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Speak Up for Change

We need Nans’ Groups to support each other, fight for what we think is right.

To share advice and experiences of different authorities.

To comfort each other when things go wrong.

To have contact numbers that are vital in times of need.

To know who we can trust and who we can’t.

To just be there for each other whenever needed 24:7, whether it’s a phone call or a shoulder.

These children need 100% care.

Speak up and make a change. Authorities are NOT always right and neither are the decisions they make.

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Our Final Addition For this book, there has to be to thanks to Marj Jones, Kinship Nan, as this has always been her dream to write a book of her life experience, this being the start.

We would also like to thank Hazel from CAMHS for her professional support and helping give us the opportunity to get this book started. We feel this is the way forward through setting up Nans’ Groups. Having discussions, contacting already established organisations who have empowered themselves, so that we can become better informed and use this to empower ourselves.

Our final thank you must go to Debbie Morgan who has listened, laughed and cried with us all whilst writing this book – our inspiration. Thank you, and love to all the children who we will carry on fighting for.

Kinship Nans * Writing on the Wall would also like to say a special thanks to the tutor, Debbie Morgan for her commitment and inspiration, Hazel Gearing at CAMHS for her hard work in setting up the group and working with us to start the writing course, Helen Millne and The Women's Organisation for allowing the group to use their beautiful building free of charge, and most of all the Nans, who have made us very proud by sharing their experiences through What's Your Story?

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What's the Worst Thing That Can Happen?

Four chainsaws lie unused in the park.

The grass, left uncut is growing wild, The dandelions' fluffy heads blown This way and that, until there's nothing left.

Still, the naked stems stand tall, refusing To bend and disappear beneath heavy soil, Instead they wait, sandwiched between blades, Like an unanswerable question.

Debbie Morgan

Bernadette Whyte, Marjorie Jones Debbie Morgan, Julie Howard & Kathy Feeley

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