By Lee Cataluna
Advertiser Columnist

Carolyn Rodrigues saved up for a whole year so her foster daughter could have a nice graduation party. It was that important. When Theresa Ortiz graduated with high honors from Moanalua High School last month, it was a triumph for the whole family and for all the people who had fought to give Theresa a stable home.

There was a time when Theresa, her older brother Joshua and their three younger siblings were living in squalor. "There was no food in the icebox," Joshua says, "Sometimes no electricity." They were homeless at times, or moving from one house to another, staying with family and friends.

Theresa Ortiz, with foster parents Robert and Carolyn Rodrigues at her graduation from Moanalua High School, will attend UH-Manoa. Photo courtesy Rodrigues family

For Joshua, who was in his early teens at the time, that meant selling drugs to get money to buy milk and diapers for his baby siblings. "I was the man of the house," he says.

Theresa, who was in middle school, would take care of the little ones.

"Sometimes now we drive past where we used to live and we tell each other we can't believe we lived like that," Theresa says.

In some ways, things got worse before they got better.

It started when officials reported that Joshua wasn't in school. In fact, Joshua hadn't been in school for two years. When Joshua and his mother didn't show up for a court date, that started a chain of events that led to all five siblings being taken into protective custody.

Joshua was placed in guardianship with the Rodrigueses. Carolyn is his grandmother's sister, and she didn't hesitate to take him in.

"No hesitation. Of course not. I can't say no to them. They're like my own grandkids," Carolyn says.

But Theresa and the three little ones went into other foster homes.

"From that first day, I wanted Theresa here," Carolyn says. "I asked Joshua, 'Where's Theresa?' "

During the next four years, that was a question Carolyn would ask many times. Theresa was placed in six different foster homes. She attended three different high schools. Though she was never abused, there were times when she felt neglected. She'd phone Carolyn, whom she calls "Aunty Gramma" and Robert, whom she calls "Papa," and ask them to come get her.

A social worker assigned to Theresa's case adamantly opposed placing her with Carolyn and Robert. There is a rule that opposite-sex foster kids cannot be placed in a home where they'd have to share a bedroom, and Carolyn and Robert live in a small two-bedroom apartment in Salt Lake.

Another social worker suggested the Rodrigueses build a partition in the bedroom to give Theresa and Joshua their own space. Still, there were objections and an underlying belief that it was best to keep Theresa in a separate foster home.

Stacia Silva, an attorney with Legal Aid, was one of the people who fought for Theresa. Silva was assigned by family court to be the guardian ad litem for Theresa and her siblings. Silva's job was to advocate for the best interests of the children and she firmly believed that it was in Theresa's best interest to be placed with her brother at the Rodrigueses' home.

"Theresa was really hurting because she couldn't be with family. I remember telling Carolyn and Robert that if I couldn't get Theresa placed with them then I shouldn't be doing this job. This was the ultimate fight."

Silva went to court date after court date. The fight went on for years.

In the meantime, through all the turmoil and heartache, Theresa managed to excel in school.

The lives of Theresa Ortiz and her brother, Joshua, are a long way from their old lives. They and their three siblings once lived in squalor, and were sometimes homeless or moving from one house to another. Photo courtesy Rodrigues family

For Joshua, living in a stable home gave him a chance to reclaim a lost childhood. The Rodrigueses made him go back to school for the first time in two years. At first, he hated it.

"He would tell me all the time, 'I'm going to quit school!' and I'd tell him, 'No, you are not. You are not quitting school. You are going to graduate if it kills me'," Carolyn says. "There were tears. I gave him the guilt trip. I told the school if he misses one day, I want to hear about it. If he misses one class, I want to hear about it. He had excellent attendance."

Joshua went to summer school to make up for lost time. He attended a community college program that gave him extra credits. Instead of graduating two years behind, he made up a year. Still, he says he was the oldest graduate in his class and wasn't sure he wanted to go through all the pomp and circumstance. "Graduation was three days before I turned 19," he says. "That's OK," Carolyn says. "Main thing is you graduated. That paper is important to me."

"You had seniority," Robert says, jokingly.

"And he got the Counselors' Academic Award," Carolyn says. "I almost fell down when I saw that."

The Rodrigueses still laugh about that Easter morning after Joshua came to live with them. Robert went into the kitchen and found a note Joshua had written to the Easter bunny. Joshua was 16 at the time. "He had a note and a carrot, and he asked for $10. He wrote, 'If you don't have the money, I'll understand.' "

Robert showed the note to his wife and said, "You put five dollars, I'll put five dollars," and they tucked the money into a plastic egg for Joshua.

Since then, Carolyn and Robert make sure Joshua and Theresa get Easter eggs every year, and stockings on Christmas morning. Sure, they tease the kids about it — Carolyn says, "I told them no stockings this year. You're too old. Santa is dead." But on Christmas morning, there are always stockings full of little things like hair clips and batteries, a small bit of childhood that they finally get to enjoy.

Carolyn Rodrigues talks tough but loves fiercely. She grew up in Kalihi, the second-oldest of nine children. She says she only has an eighth-grade education because she had to leave school to help her father take care of her younger siblings.

She raised three kids of her own while living in public housing. "It's not what I wanted, but it's all we could afford," she says. "But I always said it's not where you live, it's how you live, and my kids excelled."

It is Robert, though, who is the disciplinarian. "He lectures," Joshua says, shaking his head. "He says, 'Let's talk stories,' and you know what's coming. He's stern. He's intimidating. He's Pops."

Robert is 70 and still working part time. Carolyn will be 62 in September.

The Rodrigueses had to prove to a specially appointed panel of experts that they could provide a proper foster home for Theresa. When Silva took the case to the panel, the experts immediately made their decision that Theresa be placed with the Rodrigueses. Still, it took an agonizing month before Theresa could move in.

"I felt like I was home," Theresa says. "I was with my brother and things were like they were before all the stuff happened."

The three younger siblings got adopted — two into one family, the baby into another. Theresa and Joshua's siblings live on the Mainland now. They stay in touch through letters, pictures and phone calls.

"At least we know they're with good families," Carolyn says.

And for the past year and a half, Theresa has been with a good family.

"Papa, show the board that you made for Theresa's party," Carolyn says.

Robert holds up a large cardboard panel where he made a display of all of Theresa's high school awards and certificates. She will be attending University of Hawai'i-Manoa in the fall, where she plans to major in biology with the goal of going to medical school. "I've wanted to be a pediatrician since the fifth grade," Theresa says. "I never wanted to be anything else. I love kids."

Theresa will be the first in her family to go to college.

For every hardship and bad break in Theresa's life, there was someone on her side pulling for her: her brother Joshua who did what he could to keep them fed; the Ro-

drigueses who always wanted her: Stacia Silva, who never gave up fighting; her freshman science teacher who got her into the Upward Bound college prep program.

Silva says working on Theresa's case has been one of the most rewarding assignments of her career. Still, she says, "Theresa did it all on her own. We're all just observers. She's the one who hung in there no matter what."

In the fall, Theresa will commute to UH. "She doesn't want to live in the dorm," Carolyn says. "That's how good she has it here."

"I know this is home," Theresa says.

Carolyn replies, "You'd better know it."

Lee Cataluna's column runs Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at lcataluna@honoluluadvertiser.com or 535-8172.