Member Cofounder
Michael D. Feaster Cofounder, Age 37

I remember my first night in foster care when I was 15 years old. I watched the shadows on the ceiling and the snow on the window as the cars passed by. There was not a doubt in my mind that it was only a matter of time before I saw the violence break; see the floor open up and watch the rage of despair lay its hand across my face. For me it never came, I laid my head upon the pillow that night in a home filled with love, respect, and human dignity.

When I was nine years old I was sexually abused by my flag football coach. My parents who knew little about boundaries let a man they barely knew take me for a week to Crystal Lake in Northern California. He took a little boy with us whom I did not know and never met again, aside from my nightmares. He would take turns violating us in his R/V, and then we would go and ride in his boat on the lake. I cannot put into words the helpless feelings that shuddered through my body. Never was there a more sincere and passionate prayer for rescue then from me during that long week. Unfortunately it took me 9 years to find out it was actually answered.

When I returned home I demonstrated every possible sign a little 9 year old boy could show without breaking down and recounting the experience I lived through. So many times I tried to tell but I simply did not have the skills as I was not taught to talk about problems but to avoid them. I believed that no one could save me from this monster not god, not my parents, not even me. I had many dreams of being superman and flying away or capturing my bad guy.

My parents unfortunately took every sign I showed and used it as a blanket of shame hoping that I would shake loose my fit of being afraid to go to school and bed wetting. When it did not go away my mother gave up on me and said my dad would deal with me from then on. My coach continued to have his way with me until I was thirteen and my father began to give me regular beatings out of frustration. My shame and humiliation continued.

We moved eight times by the time I was fourteen. I was masterful at meeting new friends. I was good at sports, I was the class clown, and girls liked me. I found the perfect place where I could be safe; right under everyone's nose. Never let them see you sweat was not my motto it was my survival. People don't ask questions when they think you have it all together. School and social events were the places where I learned that what my parents taught me about avoiding problems actually worked at some level ... worked to keep you safe and ENCLOSED. Oddly, it was a place of strong connection and extreme loneliness all at the same time.

After my 14^th birthday my biological father finally had enough of my "defiance" and he tried to choke me to death on my bed. As I lay there unable to whisper time stopped. My vision blurred and I distinctly remember being ready to die. I gave up and I was ready for it to end. My sister and mother opened my door to see my father on me. They pulled him off and saved my life. The local clergy told my mother to keep my father out for 3 days. He was back the next day wearing a smile with gifts in hand.

Shortly after I turned 15 I found myself in my father's room with him and my mother sitting across from me. My father was explaining in his standard detached way that he was kicking me out. I was to leave the home and never come back. I had two days to leave.

A local member of the clergy took me in and convinced my parents to sign over guardianship. I had to relearn the entire way I looked at the world. Problems were talked about in the open, violence was no where to be found. Most of all I was given the hope that I would make it. I found that I no longer had to deal with my parents problems so I was able to concentrate on my own.

Concentrating on my own problems did not prove to be so simple. At 17 I got my 16 year old girl friend pregnant. I was married at 17 but still in school. My foster parents moved out of state and I moved in with my wife's parents until school was out. I graduated and then I was invited to attended college at SMSU. Unfortunately as life would have it, I was too young and too much in recovery to get married. Our marriage ended after 3 years but not before having 2 beautiful children.

There are countless people who made an impact on my life for the positive while I was a youth. Mostly they are the people who could see through my facade such as teachers, ministers, friends and their parents. My foster parents Dennis and Diane are still actively involved in my life today as well as my mother and siblings. It is strange at times but it works.

The gifts I have been given really take meaning as I look at my children and know that they will not deal with the same problems I did (I am confident I am giving them a whole new set of smaller ones). The sexual violation from the predator who attacked me and the banner of violence and shame passed from my father's parents to him and from him to me ... stops with me!