Her image and her pleas--along with the fuzzy caption, "Marisol T. turns 13 06/04, would like to learn more about your family, call us"--will soon be broadcast on a cable access show aired in Brooklyn and Long Island. The producer of this program is You Gotta Believe!, a private adoption agency specializing in the curious business of marketing adolescents like Marisol to families. You Gotta Believe! branding includes perky slogans like, "If you adopt a teen, there are no diapers to change!"
To witness this peculiar event, I have brought with me Natasha Santos and Pauline Gordon. Both are 16 and writers for Represent, the magazine produced by teens in foster care that I edit. Pauline has just finished taking Marisol off to the side for an interview--hearing Marisol's story of how she aches to leave foster care and find a real family. Now, Pauline and Natasha are impatient for the performance to begin. They're rooting for Marisol.
The cameras roll. At first, Marisol deftly whittles the complications of her life to a few charming facts. She lives in a group home. She doesn't like exercise. She loves to eat. She loves eating so much, she explains shyly, that she looks forward to dinner all day. Oxtail with rice is among her favorite foods. She'd like an adoptive mother to make that dish for her. And she'd like a family "who loves me, family that will treat me nice."
The audience members murmur appreciatively. Emboldened, Marisol warms up and takes a risk. Asked what she likes about school, she shrugs.
"Nothing," she smirks.
"At all?" urges the moderator, a former foster child herself.
"No."
Natasha and Pauline look at each other, eyebrows raised. They know that Marisol's display of bravado is risky. Her insouciance could be interpreted as endearing. But it might also be condemned as bratty.
Then everything goes wrong. Asked to describe her day, Marisol answers like a robot. "Go to school," she says, staring dully ahead. "School boring. Bored. Teacher? Hmmm. Can't stand her. Come home. Do my homework. Eat dinner. Good food."
At this, Pamela, a sophisticated-looking and composed older teen flanking Marisol, calmly explains that she's never bored at school. Moreover, she loves books and reading. She volunteers in her school's library. She always follows her elders' advice. And unlike the other girls in her group home who listen to hip hop, Pamela says, "I'm really not into that...I know I'm unique."
Further, Pamela's requirements for happiness are far less needy than Marisol's. Pamela doesn't expect a family to love her, she says. Only to appreciate her. At this, Marisol looks flummoxed, like she knows she's messed up.
Then Marisol drops a true lead balloon. After the young man on her left admits that sometimes he "destroys things" to feel better, Marisol follows suit.
"I'm always depressed," she blurts, dropping her head. For a split-second, silence hangs.
"She's not always depressed!" interrupts Pamela, trying to rescue Marisol and the moment. But it's too late. The moderator politely smiles and plows on.
During question-and-answer time, after the taping has finished, no one from the audience addresses Marisol. Instead, one woman wants to know how tall the "girl in white" is. "I'm five-nine," Pamela answers, sounding confused.
