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standing. Often, of course, we agree, and “The Talk” lasts just seconds, but often we don’t, and one or the other has to prevail over a period of hours. The ground rules state that this has to happen, that a decision must be forthcoming, but even more important, that the discussion must never be reopened afterward. The technique means we rarely hold something in that’s truly bothering us. But, perhaps most important, it has over the years proved to be a delightful and endless source of frustration to children who would otherwise play one parent against the other. On important issues the kids have always gotten one of two answers out of us, either,” We haven’t discussed that yet,” or “Sorry, no, we’ve already discussed that.”
    Now Sue said the words:” want to have ‘The Talk.’ ”
    â€œWhen?”
    â€œAs soon as possible—right this instant, if you can stay home.”
    I could win a postponement. This wasn’t quite how it was done—we always asked for a “Talk” a few days or a week off in the future, never right on top of events. But we had been exhausting the preliminaries for months, and I knew how it would go because in all “The Talks” we’ve had, neither of us has ever denied the other what it was they truly wanted to do. We might have forced the other to defend it, but we’ve always conceded the point and then supported it. Always.
    Sue seemed absolutely committed to taking Mike, and while I still had serious, sober questions about her initial motivation,the disruption of our lives, the effect of such a step on our children, and my own strength, I was also weary of the issue hanging fire between us, and a curious mix of emotions had begun banging around inside of me as well. Despite the immense reluctance I felt when I thought of taking on another boy, another part of me also missed having the excitement of young boys in the place, and while disappointed—almost bitterly disappointed when I thought that there was never going to be a little girl somewhere at the end of this process—I was stirred by Sue’s commitment, I liked the staff in the program, I felt awfully sorry for this kid, and we had the room (in fact, we had seventeen rooms). It wouldn’t even mean reducing our precarious cash flow—Harbour would compensate us at a rate that was substantially greater than the standard foster-care board. And again, I was impressed with the child himself—impressed by our first visit, and reassured at lunch.
    So I got up and gave her a hug.
    She pushed me back at arm’s, length. “So, is this ‘The Talk’?”
    â€œYeah,” I said, chuckling, “I guess so. I have to get back to work.”
    â€œYou don’t want to talk about it.”
    â€œSue, I’m all talked out.”
    Once the children’s home understood Sue was actually serious about Mike, they started raising objections.
    The Old English word for
harbor
or
harbour
was
haven
. The Germans still use it, although they pronounce it “hah-ven,” as in the famous port of Bremerhaven, which means Bremer or Bremen Harbor. A harbor, as everyone knows, is a place out of the weather where you can safely unload or refit, and The Harbour Program implied a place for children to tie up out of the storm, take on supplies, and refit their lives. A safe haven. But it’s still aversion of foster care—a new version and, as a therapeutic version, one quite different from the standard pattern, but it’s still foster care.
    And sadly, foster care isn’t 100 percent safe and has the reputation of not doing much in terms of mainstreaming children, especially difficult children. It’s not that foster care as a whole isn’t chock-full of warm and loving families who do the best they can for their charges. It’s just that an abundance of problems stem from its role as emergency or