Today, in the United States, more than 2.4 million children live in grandfamilies in the care of grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings or close family friends. In her new book, “Grandfamilies: Stories of Children and the Loving Relatives Who Raise Them,” author Donna Butts, former longtime executive director of Generations United, sheds light on the ongoing fight for the recognition and resources these families deserve. Through heartfelt personal accounts, grandfamily members of all ages and backgrounds share their experiences, giving voice to the millions across this nation who have come together in the spirit of hope and resilience to imagine a better future for their loved ones. In recognition of National Grandparents Day on Sunday, Sept. 13, Butts shares this excerpt from the book, edited for clarity and style:
Our Grandson
From Adrian Charniak: “My grandson Joey came into our lives on June 11, 1998, and there weren’t many easy days at first. The Illinois Department of Children and Family Services was involved from the beginning. His mother abused drugs; he was born with cocaine in his system. Because of my son’s (Joey’s father) chronic illness, my husband and I were told that we’d be able to take the child. But when the time came, Joey was given to his mother.
They had an apartment down the block, and she would come and go. At one point, she packed her stuff and took Joey with her. From October to February, I sat back, praying that we’d find them.
Eventually, she and my son divorced, and my husband and I got court orders to get Joey back. We brought the papers to his other grandmother’s house, where he and his mother were supposed to be, but they weren’t. Eventually the police called and said that they saw his mother in Stickney, two towns over from us, putting Joey in the car.
My brother and his girlfriend, Shirley, went over with the police department to get him. When they came back, Shirley had Joey under her coat. It was the dead of winter, and he had no jacket on, just a onesie and a soaked diaper.
Court Orders and Police Reports
After my son died and Joey was going on 11, his mother tried to get him back again. The court told us that she had to have visitation rights.
Thank God we had the love and the strength from each other to carry us through this. And hundreds of police reports, hundreds. The police department knew us already; it was terrible. And plus, Ron and I had to give Joey’s mother support, $70 a week.
Thank God we had the love and the strength from each other to carry us through this. And hundreds of police reports, hundreds.
After one visit, Joey came home and said, “I can’t go back there again. The word ‘A-S-S’ is spray-painted on the front room wall.” If he lived there, he would have to sleep in the basement, he said. “The toilets were out in the open, with no doors, no nothing. I can’t go there.”
He had two friends who lived behind us, Packy and Patrick, and their parents were with us 100 percent. There was a crawl space in their house, and the kids put a cot in there, blankets and water, a cooler, candy, chips, cookies—you name it. If Joey had to go with his mother, he was to run over to Packy’s house, go into the crawl space, and the kids would cover it up with their door so they couldn’t find him.
I worked for an orthodontist for 37 years, and he was very supportive. One of our patients was a judge, and when she came into the office one day, my boss said, “Go and tell her what’s going on.”
I said, “No, I can’t do that. I don’t think it’s right.”
He said, “Adrian, you want something done? You go talk to her.”
I told her we were before a judge who kept giving Joey’s mother more visitation. We went back seven times, but the judge was not listening. Well, the judge who was our patient said, “Adrian, I think you’ve got the backbone and the balls to do this.”
I asked, “What’s that?”
Name on the Ballot
She said, “You’re going to tell him you’re a United States citizen, you vote. And his name’s on the ballot.”
We went back to court with our big stack of papers, but he was still not listening. I put my hand up, and Ron goes, “Adrian, we’re going to get thrown out.”
I said, “That’s OK, because then I’ll go out screaming and run, and then somebody will hear me.”
“Excuse me, sir,” I said to the judge.
“What?” the judge asked.
I said, “I’m a United States citizen. I vote. Your name’s on the ballot.” I just blurted it out. I could feel our patient holding me there and telling me, “This is what you need to say.”
The judge pushed back his chair, put his hands on his head, and said, “Gram, tell me everything.”
“Well, there were the times when Joey brought live bullets home,” I began. I showed him all the documents, everything.
He looked at them, and he said, “No visitation, unless Grandma and Grandpa say it’s OK.”
Thank you, God, I thought. It was a nightmare, but we survived.
I think everything that has happened has given us more strength to fight.
I think everything that has happened has given us more strength to fight. I tell other grandparents: Hey, you know, if we did it, you can do it too.
Don’t let it get you down, I tell them. Whatever baloney is being dished out to you, you’re going to get the strength to get that steak eventually.”
Adrian’s Fight
I first heard Adrian’s story almost 30 years ago when she spoke at an event at the National Press Club in Washington, D.C., which was designed to bring attention to grandfamilies’ experiences. The diminutive, gray-haired Czechoslovakian from the Chicago suburbs was shy—not used to being in front of people unless she was singing in her church choir. I watched as she took a deep breath and quietly told the crowd her story.
Adrian ended with an illustration that inspires me to this day. She said that while most of her friends boasted about golfing or planning cruises to exotic places, she cruised too—to carpool lines, skateboard parks, and pediatrician appointments. She arranged her life around the needs and schedule of her grandson, Joey. Adrian became Joey’s primary caregiver when she was in her mid-50s and supporting an ailing husband and aging mother. Raising her grandson without a formalized relationship such as adoption, legal custody, or guardianship, she had to fight for the recognition, resources, and services Joey needed. Fight she did, appearing in court 127 times, racking up more than $100,000 in legal fees, and exhausting her pension.
“You did it, Gram,” said one of the sheriff’s deputies in the back of the courtroom, as she and Joey walked out for the last time. “You did it.”
Adrian Charniak, right, with her grandson Joey. (Photo courtesy Adrian Charniak)
Donna Butts is the former longtime executive director of Generations United and author of “Grandfamilies: Stories of Children and the Loving Relatives Who Raise Them.”
Photo credit: Shutterstock/Kichigin
