As a licensed clinical social worker for the past twenty years, and a long time author-wannabe, I found myself anxiously awaiting the release of my first young adult novel, Returnable Girl, about a teen in foster care and her journey to adoption. New to the process, with the book’s release date fast approaching, I naturally began to wonder about publicity.
That’s why I found myself last August, having breakfast with Darlene Allen, Executive Director of Adoption Rhode Island at a restaurant on the East Side of Providence. I had asked if she would help me brainstorm ways to get Returnable Girl into the hands of foster and adopted teens and their parents—and anyone else whom she thought it might help. She graciously agreed.
But after reading the book, she was curious, what made me choose this topic? Was it a true story? And most importantly, would I consider being a counseling resource for Adoption RI?
After I laughed, she explained, “Seriously. There aren’t many therapists around here who specialized in adoption and foster care!”
She added, “But we’re working to change that.”
“The foster teens I’ve known have been lovely yet vulnerable,” I told her, “definitely not hopeless causes. I wanted to write a story showing this population as just regular kids who experience the struggles that most teens face. And the difference that one loving adult can make in the life of a child.”
Darlene nodded. “We face an uphill battle all the time, fighting negative media attention and also novice therapists who sometimes saddle these kids with diagnoses that frighten away prospective families.”
“What if we did a book club?” she suggested.
Since I was in the process of preparing workshops exploring themes of ambivalence in foster and adopted teens…it seemed like a natural fit.
“These kids rarely have someone do something special for them,” Darlene added.
“Let’s do it!” I agreed.
Six girls (ages 13-17) signed up for the book club, which took place on three consecutive Tuesday evenings at Adoption RI. Unbeknownst to me, Darlene had put together knapsacks as presents for the girls on the first night, filling them each with a small fleece lap blanket, a journal, a special pen, and a copy of Returnable Girl. It was a kind gesture that did not go unappreciated.
As the girls opened their knapsacks the excitement was palpable. One girl quickly wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. Another said, “Oh, can I trade? Pink is just too girly for me.”
After discussing confidentiality and group rules, we all introduced ourselves. I wanted to know where they were in the foster/adoption process and what they liked to do in their spare time. The girls asked me a few “author” type questions, but frankly they were much more interested in finding “common ground” with each other, than learning about the not-so-famous author in their midst!
After we took a break for dinner--because what book club doesn’t have good food?-- the girls reveled in chatting about their myspace accounts and crushes (John Cena the new hot movie star) and personal talents: photography, dance, music and film.
We agreed they would all try to read the book and begin discussion at our next session. Afterwards, Darlene and I were excited. We knew that something special had just happened.
The following Tuesday night, one of the girls ran into the room hardly able to contain herself. “I think Returnable Girl should be required reading in every school! I’ve already told my principal about it. I want everyone to understand what we go through.”
Since some of the girls hadn’t yet finished reading the entire book, the conversations during this second group tended to be more “macro” then “micro.”
“We don’t want to be thought of as returnable,” one girl remarked. “It’s not fair.“ Why did the laws work that way? Why aren’t kids more protected? What could they do to increase public awareness? How could they help fix the system? They seemed empowered by each other and eager to make a difference.
Some girls already had future plans. “My mom and I agree that all this has happened to me for a reason. I’m not going to be a therapist. That might be too hard. But I want to work to make the system better for all kids. So maybe they don’t have to experience what I went through.”

More laughter from the girls during a dinner of Chinese food, and promises of pictures, trading phone numbers and email addresses for the next session--and everyone agreed they would finish reading the book.
During the third group we passed around a reading/discussion guide that I had developed and asked each girl to select and read a question.
1. In the story, our foster teen Ronnie has doubts that foster mom Alison will keep her. Did you ever have problems trusting that your foster or adopted parent would keep you?
One of the girls related that she had a four-year-old brother who had been beaten because he wet the bed, and then the foster mom beat her because she defended him. They were quickly removed from that home. Another said that on the first day her soon-to-be adoptive parents brought her home, she ran upstairs, locked the door and hid under the bed for hours.
2. Did you ever feel like it was your fault that you were given up, as Ronnie does? There was much discussion and emotion around parents who made decisions to keep siblings and not keep them. Some of the girls who said that they no longer blamed themselves were asked to share how they got past that. “Well, I was only a little kid when she left me. It couldn’t be my fault because kids aren’t bad or good—they are just kids.”
3. In this scene, Ronnie is leaving for Alaska to visit her birth family. Does it ever seem difficult to talk about your birth family with your foster or adopted family?
One girl said, “Well, my mom thinks it’s hard for me to talk about, but I think it’s really harder for her.” Another revealed how she’s not sure she wants to be adopted by her foster family, and how much she still misses her mother and siblings and wishes she could be with them.
Suddenly choked with emotion, this same girl continued, “Oh, my god. I think this book club has just turned into a support group.”
All the girls laughed.
Darlene said, “We are incredibly impressed with how supportive and kind you’ve been to each other during this process.”
“And wise,” I added. “There is lots of wisdom here among you.”
“We’ve had to be wise,” replied one of the girls. “Or else we couldn’t get through it.”
Mary Pipher, author of “Reviving Ophelia”, once said: “Writers and therapists are story tellers, constantly crafting stories of hope.”
I like to think that our book club and Returnable Girl gave these girls hope and made them feel special and “normal” at the same time. The book quickly opened up avenues of conversation, because group members could relate to what Ronnie had gone through. It allowed them to explore feelings of ambivalence in a safe environment. The process of sharing their own stories during our “book club” also empowered the girls—they began to think about how they could use their experience to effect change. Sharing stories validated their common experiences, but also allowed them to respect differences between them and where they each were in the process.
As a final note, one of the girl’s mothers sent me an email, after the very first night. "First, thank you for writing a book that has validated my daughter's experience. She did not want to put the book down (she read under the covers until late last night - I pretend not to know) and I had to "ask" her to leave it home so she could concentrate on school work during the day. I called Adoption Rhode Island and thanked them for putting together the group of young women and for having this activity. I do not know where or what will be the final results of the Reading Group, I only know that your book has opened doors of conversations that have been difficult to open in the past."
As a therapist and author, believe me, it doesn’t get much better than that.