People with a care in the world

SOME of the little children who stay with Grace have interesting lines in artwork: pictures all over the bedroom walls drawn with their own excrement, for instance. She says this with no detectable emphasis or emotion, adding simply: ''It's their way of showing you there's something they're trying to tell you.'' Grace has spent 11 years in Glasgow's foster-care front line. She opted to become an emergency carer after fostering a little girl for three years. ''She was five when she left to be adopted and that parting was so hard.''

Since then she has welcomed more than 500 children to her council flat in the north of Glasgow. Most stay only days or weeks. Many arrive at night, battered, bruised, confused, neglected, in the arms of stand-by social workers.

''These days a lot of kids land here because of drug abuse. Sometimes there are kids who've been neglected. After a while you find there are other things, too. The worst was finding a mother had been sexually abusing her young son. It can knock you for six.

''People have misconceptions about foster carers. We get kids who are difficult and disturbed. They can be hyper or terribly withdrawn. You're trying to get them to trust you enough, so they'll tell you what's wrong,'' says Grace.

Today marks the start of Foster Care Fortnight. You rarely see references to fostering these days without ''crisis'' tagged on. There are never enough foster carers. In recent years that crisis has deepened. Why?

First, more women are going out

to work. For years, fostering relied on married couples comprising a male earner and stay-at-home wife because traditionally the work is unpaid.

The carer simply receives an allowance to cover costs although this is starting to change.

Second, according to Stephanie Stone of Families for Children, Glasgow City Council's fostering unit, because

''people are much more aware of their vulnerability in terms of possible

allegations made by children against carers''. Third, the increasing emphasis on caring in the community has meant pressure to get children out of residential care into foster placements. Cynics would add that as a children's home place costs an average #1100 a week, compared with just over #150 for foster care, there's a financial imperative, too.

Fourth, because social work these days is geared to keeping children at home, the children who do end up in care are more damaged. Often they have complex problems requiring

special skills from a foster carer far beyond the usual dose of TLC. Lastly, legislation such as the Children (Scotland) Act makes more demands on foster carers in terms of reports and inspections. Though these may be necessary and desirable, they ask a lot of someone who is basically unpaid.

Some scoff at the constant use of

crisis vocabulary. After all, our streets aren't teeming with ragged, battered bairns.

The crisis is more subtle. It means Glasgow kids being sent to Fife for want of carers in the city. It means unsuitable placements more likely to break down. It means brothers and sisters being split up. It means children being kept in residential care when they would be better off in foster care.

Lastly, and maybe this is a good thing, it means social work departments are casting their nets ever wider in search of foster carers. Out goes the old stereotype of the big-bosomed matron with heart and home to match. There aren't enough of them.

Today's foster carers include grannies and grandpas, lone parents, professional single people (both women and men), home owners and council tenants, and young couples with kids of their own. (Controversially, current Scottish guidelines preclude gay and lesbian couples from fostering, though this doesn't apply in England.)

Glasgow currently uses 270 foster carers from all over central and southern Scotland to care for 530 children, mostly referred by children's hearings. They are mainly inherited from the former Strathclyde region and fall into different groups: emergency carers like Grace, short and long-term carers, and community carers who mainly look after groups of older children. This last group receive a fee for each child. All receive allowances based on National Foster Care Association recommendations.

Most Scottish authorities would welcome more volunteers. Applicants are invited to join preparation groups before the selection process, police and health checks, and detailed training on subjects ranging from tantrums to sex abuse. Glasgow desperately needs at least 30 more foster carers.

The most crying need is in the city itself and for households prepared to take on family groups of three or more siblings. The Glasgow unit recently placed three large family groups. ''Each placement uses up a resource and we can't magic up more,'' says Stephanie Stone.

A 45-year-old lone mum living in Ayrshire (we'll call her Vera) took on four siblings. ''They've settled brilliantly and are doing well at school. I love 'em already. I love 'em to bits,'' she says.

Though she's fostered 20 children there are still days when Vera thinks ''why am I doing this?''

''When I started it was scary. I made lots of mistakes. It was a little girl and I tried to wrap her in cotton wool but as time goes on you start to treat them like your own.

''Of course they're naughty sometimes. They test the boundaries. They think, will she still love me if I wake her up at 2.30am?''

She admits to one of the longest Christmas present lists in Scotland. ''I used to take teenagers and they never really leave. They go off to a flat and, the next thing, they're on the phone saying 'my washing's all turned pink!' They come back now years later and say, 'I didn't realise what you did for me until now'. It's great to see them parenting their children in a way they never were themselves. You can show them there's an alternative to what they're used to.''

Her worst experience was taking a badly neglected child while reports were prepared. ''After three months she was so much happier and healthier but the courts, in their wisdom, decided to send her home. In a couple of months she was back in care.''

How did she feel about the parents? ''It's difficult for them because you have their children and, for whatever reason, you can look after them better. They can show their unease by being awkward and you have to think 'maybe I'd be like that, too'. Sometimes, when you know what they've done to their children, it's hard to sit in the same room and offer them tea but, whatever they've done, their children will love them, their loyalty is amazing, and we have to respect that.''

Fostering can be lonely: ''Because of the confidentiality you can't have a good moan to the lady next door, so the back-up you get from social workers and the Families for Children people is important. They're great. If you've had a bad day they'll pop in and be there for you.'' Vera gets around #70 a week in fees on top of allowances to cover childcare costs because she has a large group. As a lone parent, she says she couldn't survive without a modest extra income from her counselling work.

Should foster carers receive fees? Some argue that this would lead to people unsuited to the work taking it up for the money, others say a fee structure would result in a tax nightmare. However, the National Foster Care Association favours a payment of around #100 a week which is hardly lavish - it works out at around 60p an hour. But it would give foster carers professional standing and could help improve their status. It would also

entitle councils to demand more from them in terms of training and record-keeping. At present only a handful of councils in Scotland including Fife, Stirling, and Perth and Kinross pay fees to all foster carers.

Susan Clark, NFCA Scottish manager says it is important to reward carers for their skills and commitment:

''People do this work because they care about children but they still have to pay the mortgage.''

n NFCA Scotland , 1 Melrose Street, Glasgow. Tel: 0141-332 6655. Families for Children. Tel: 0141 287 6044.