I lived all my life thinking the reason I was in care was because I was naughty. Because I was breaking and entering, pickpocketing, vandalism. I wasn't party to any social workers' reports.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Shortly after I turned 13, Child Welfare took me into care. I was sent to a residential centre where girls with behavioural problems were 'evaluated'. My time there comes back to me now only in flashes of smells, images and sounds.
Even though the neighborhood I grew up in had some unhealthy elements, there was a caring there where you knew that you didn't want to get caught doing something wrong. There were bright spots in the neighborhood where I felt nurtured on a community level.
At one point in my life, I was very involved with social causes. I'm still involved, but now I have a family and it's important to me.
I work to take care of my family, not the other way around.
When I was a young boy, very young boy, mothers didn't work. Women were home, they took care of the house, they washed the dishes and took care of the children. That's what they did, and that's what my mother did.
As a kid, I was the neighbourhood baby-sitter - very responsible, always in charge.
I believe that all the important people in my life prior to 1982 were victimized by my illness.
I could have had someone else take care of my child but I did it because that was my moral obligation and also it was a joy and I felt it was in the best interests of the child.
My father was in the civil service. I can remember standing in a bus shelter in the pouring rain, and that we were allowed candy floss at the end of the holiday if we had behaved.
For some reason, I had a responsibility to my family and the people who lived around me. I felt that I had to convey their dignity - the way they dealt with adversity and poverty - and their good humor.
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