These kids deserve people who teach them accountability without giving up on them.
I grew up in Camdenton. My dad built and sold homes, and my mom was an executive at a local bank. My brother and I had a great life, a wonderful life. Vacations, boating, family, four wheelers, a pool, friends, all of it. I never knew back then how much that mattered and how easy it is to take it for granted.
I had my daughter in 2007, made some unfortunate choices and became addicted to opiates. When my daughter was two years old, I checked myself into treatment for opiate addiction. I got out and got to work. College, work, NA, and eventually built a life. Fun fact, my best friend and I met in treatment. Flash forward many years and she became a caseworker and I became a foster parent; definitely a full circle moment from our days in treatment.
My husband Kris and I met in 2012; he had no idea what he was in for. We met through Facebook. His sister and I knew each other; that was the start of us.
Kris has been in law enforcement for over a decade; spending many of those years as a SRO at local school districts. Kris enjoyed getting to work at the schools, getting to know the kids, eating lunch with them and even showed up to their games and events. When something landed on his desk, he looked for ways to keep kids out of the system whenever possible.
Before foster care, I substituted for the local school district. While I went everywhere, my favorite position was at the local alternative high school. That was my first real look at kids who had come from hard places or had been moved around over and over and literally had to fight and claw their way to a HS diploma.
When COVID hit, Kris being an “essential worker” was working alot and I was home with our daughter who was in junior high at the time. She was always saying she wanted siblings to play with, we told her that was not happening, but we definitely had the love and space for more kids; that’s when Foster Care came up for the first time.
After training and paperwork, we were asked about doing TFC (therapeutic foster care). Both Kris and I had both worked with kids long enough to understand that behavior usually comes from trauma; no child wakes up wanting to disappoint.
We were still finishing our licensing when a call came from someone we knew. There was a 10yr old boy who needed somewhere to go. They knew him, and we knew them. That was enough to place him with us under fictive kin before our paperwork was even finished. That was six years ago.
We aren’t the typical TFC home, it’s a family here. We don’t put rules up on the wall. It’s easier for the kids to learn things naturally in a new environment. Kris gives all of our kids the same very short talk on day one. Don’t lie and don’t steal; everything else we can figure out together.
Over the years we’ve had a dozen or so kiddos stay with us long term. Some came for a weekend and ended up staying for years. We have guardianship of two boys now. That was never really the plan. The plan was always to be the bridge in helping kids go back home, or find another permanency. Some have moved on to be adopted, some went back home, some of them stayed.
Last year one of the boys came to us not really understanding how families worked. He didn’t know uncles could actually be blood relatives. He had been sheltered and moved around a lot. The first Thanksgiving he spent with us, he kept asking if everyone at the table was actually related to each other.
That hit me hard. Especially growing up, my childhood was sunshine and rainbows. Now this boy has brothers who check on him, and football coaches who hold him accountable.
He also now has grandparents who treat him like he’s always belonged.
That’s just it, it truly does take a village. My parents are now licensed as respite providers. They love being able to be grandparents to so many kids. Another TFC home nearby, we help each other all the time and “swap kids” when somebody has a doctor appointment or just needs a minute to breathe, I’ll watch hers and she watches mine. I know she’s always just a phone call away.
That’s what keeps foster parents going. Somebody nearby who already knows your kids and will say, “Yeah, bring them over.”
That matters more than people realize.
One of our boys saved up almost fifteen hundred dollars for a car this past spring. We matched it and then some. We got him something safe, dependable and then had bluetooth and navigation installed because those things matter to teenagers, all teenagers. He lost the car for a week recently for lying; he’s now got it back.
That’s just it, it’s the balance all the time. Balancing boundaries and building trust.
Consequences and support.
A lot of these kids learned early on how to survive by telling a good story. Sometimes they’re so convincing you almost want to believe them. But they also deserve people who stick around long enough to teach them accountability without giving up on them.
I tell them all the time their job is to go to school to get an education, but have fun doing it. Join the clubs, play the sports, just be kids/teenagers. These kids should not be carrying adult problems on their shoulders at just fifteen years old.
My daughter understood all of this more than I realized while she was growing up. She told me once that biological kids of foster parents should have their own training because it changes them too. It changes the house dynamics, and definitely an increase in the food bill. Now she’s in college and her sorority’s philanthropy is CASA. Another full circle moment; because foster care is part of her story too.
I look around this house sometimes and realize none of this is what we planned to be doing, but I can’t imagine our life any other way.
Kris and Janelle Keeth
Therapeutic Foster and Kinship caregivers
Voices of Hope
Every person in this community carries a story worth telling. Voices of Hope features the real people of the Missouri Ozarks who show up for children and families — foster parents, caseworkers, volunteers, survivors, and neighbors who simply refused to look away.
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