A Sister’s Story from Within the Child Welfare System

I never imagined I would have to fight so hard just to be a sister. Since day one, I have been there for my siblings. I have cared for them, protected them, loved them, and stood by their side through life’s ups and downs. But when the child welfare system stepped in, everything changed. What was supposed to be a system that helps families has instead pulled mine apart and left me with wounds that still haven’t healed.

My siblings were taken because of what the system called “instability.” But instead of helping create stability within our family, they placed my siblings into a system that slowly tore them away from everything familiar. They have been moved around to several different foster homes and are all separated into seven different homes. They’ve been shuffled like pieces in a game, left to feel unsafe and unwanted. My siblings have reported abuse and neglect in some of those homes — and yet, I am still fighting just to see them, to visit with them, to bring them back to the family that loves them.

I am 21 years old, I work two jobs within social services, I have a car and have everything they asked for to be able to care for my siblings. But somehow, I am still not seen as enough. I am still not able. It’s like no matter how much I do or how hard I try, the system finds a way to shut me out. They say it’s about the best interest of the child — but how can that be true when siblings are separated, ignored, and left to suffer in silence?

This experience has taken a heavy toll on our mental health as siblings. The pain of being kept from my them —the children I’ve grown up with, loved, helped raise and protected — is something I carry with me every day. I worry constantly about their safety, their happiness, and whether they still feel connected to me and if they know how hard I’m fighting for them.

The system discredits me as a sister. It treats me like I do not matter, like my voice has no weight — even though I have been involved in my siblings’ lives from the very beginning. I am not asking for anything extraordinary. I am asking for the chance to hold on to the family that I love.

This system that was supposed to bring stability has instead ripped our family apart, piece by piece. It severed the bond with our parent and now it is working to erase the bond between siblings — the last thread of connection and familiarity we have. This is how we end up with such poor outcomes in foster care. Not because the children are broken — but because the system fails to recognize the strength of family and the power of love.

Still, I refuse to give up. I will continue to use my voice not just for my siblings and our family, but for every child, every sister, every sibling, and every family that has been pushed to the side and torn apart by a system that toooften forgets what truly matters.

My story is one of heartbreak, but also of resilience. I believe in change. I believe in family. I believe in never staying silent when something is wrong.

To anyone reading this who has felt powerless in the face of the system — you are not alone. I see you. I hear you.

And I am standing with you.

My voice matters. Our voices matter. And we will not be quiet.

Halle Mickel