I spent twelve years — from age four to sixteen — in Southern California's group home system.
If you're in it now, or you've aged out, or you're just trying to survive a family that hurt you —
this place is for you. I made it. You can too.
If you're reading this tonight — I want you to know I see you. I was you.
Me at Orangewood. Probably around seven.
I came out of the system. I spent twelve years of my life — from age four to sixteen — in group homes and community facilities across Southern California. Orangewood. Traverse. Paularino. Dahlia. I have walked the hallways you walk. I have eaten the bad food. I have learned the silence. I have felt the Christmas loneliness that hurts worse than hunger.
I'm telling you this because I'm in my forties now, living in Northern Virginia with my wife and our home and a garden I never imagined I'd own. I got here. Not easily. Not in a straight line. But I got here. And if I got here, so can you.
I can't promise you the system will be kind. It wasn't to me. I can't promise every adult will show up. Most didn't. But I can promise you this: somewhere out there is a person who's going to change your life. Mine was a quiet old man named Bob Butler — my CASA. He brought me doughnuts every Saturday and taught me chess on a little travel board. Yours will look different. A counselor. A teacher. A foster parent. A youth pastor. A coach. A cousin. Someone is going to show up. Your job is to stay alive long enough to let them.
If you don't have a person yet, I am one. You can write to me through this site. I read every message. It might take me a few days — I have a family and a full life now, which is a miracle I still can't believe most mornings — but I will write back. You don't have to use your real name.
If tonight is bad — the kind of bad where you've thought about not being here — please stop reading this and call or text 988. Right now. They won't send the police unless you're in immediate danger. They will just talk to you, or listen. That's it.
And if you're not in crisis tonight, just hurting — the slow kind, the deep kind, the kind that lives under everything — I wrote a book for you. It's called Resilient. Because you already are. You just haven't had anyone tell you yet.
Stay Resilient,
JB
Jeremy Bracamontes · Northern Virginia
A little of my story
Twelve years. Many homes. One survivor.
1986 · Age 5
My father died of lymphoma
Anaheim, California
1986 · Age 5
Removed from my mother in a police raid
Fullerton · Orangewood Children's Facility
1987
Alone at Christmas — my first group home
Child Help · where I almost gave up
1988 · Age 7
Bob Butler became my CASA
The weekend he saved my life
1990 · Age 9
Accepted Christ at Camp Annandale
San Bernardino National Forest
1990s
Traverse, Paularino, Dahlia
Six-bed homes · emancipation facility
1997 · Age 16
Foster placement in Irvine
Out of the group home system. Finally free.
Present day
Northern Virginia
Married to Shauna. Father. Veteran. Writer.
Group home kids are survivors and deserve a chance to prove themselves. Never give up on yourself — resiliency is your superpower.
— From the Afterword
The book
Resilient: A Story of Group Home Survival
A memoir · 229 pages · by Jeremy Bracamontes
The true story of a boy raised between Orangewood, a dozen group homes, and the broken places in between — and the ordinary, unexpected people whose kindness made survival possible.
Written for the kid who's still in it, the adult who used to be, and anyone who's ever wondered what happens inside a child who has nowhere to go home to.
I have books. I'd rather they be read than sit in a warehouse. If you're a kid in a group home, a foster youth, someone aged out of care, a CASA, a social worker, a foster parent, or a chaplain — tell me where to send it. No questions. No charge.
Social workers, foster parents, CASAs, chaplains — you are the difference.
C
CASA Volunteers
Bob Butler was my CASA. He didn't save me by being extraordinary — he saved me by showing up every Saturday. If you're one, you matter more than you know.
F
Foster Parents
The right foster home changed the trajectory of my life at age sixteen. Ron in Irvine asked nothing of me except to be a teenager. You can be that person for a kid like me.
S
Social Workers & Staff
I remember the ones who treated me like a person, not a case number. Kindness was never wasted, even when I couldn't say thank you.
P
Pastors, Chaplains, Camp Counselors
A camp counselor named JerBear put his hand on my shoulder at nine years old and changed my life. Never underestimate one summer week.
If you work with kids like the kid I was — and you'd like a copy of Resilient to give to one of them, or to keep in your office — request one below. I'll send it.
Me and Bob — my CASA, my Grandpa.
He brought doughnuts every Saturday. He taught me chess. He was the reason I made it.
The only difference between a villain and a hero is how they interpret their troubled backstory. The villain wants to hurt those like he was hurt. The hero never wants people to suffer like he did.
— JB
If you need help
You don't have to figure this out alone.
These are real people, answering the phone right now. Most are free, confidential, and available 24/7. None of them require you to give your name.
A community of adults who've lived what you're living. They get it.
Reach out
Write to me.
I read everything that comes through this form. I might take a few days to reply — I have a family and a job — but I will reply. You don't have to use your real name. If you're in crisis right now, please use the resources above first; they can help you tonight, I can't.
Message received
Your message reached me.
I read every one. If you asked for a reply, I'll write back — usually within a few days, sometimes up to a couple weeks if life gets loud on my end. Hang in there.
If you're in crisis tonight, please don't wait for me to reply. Call or text 988 — they answer right now.
Stay Resilient,
JB
Request a free copy
Tell me where to send it.
No cost. No shipping fee. I'll put it in the mail. Your address goes nowhere except onto an envelope.
Got it
The book is on its way.
I'll put it in the mail within a couple weeks. If you left an email, I'll send a note when it ships. Keep an eye on your mailbox.
Stay Resilient,
JB
You reached for help. That's brave.
These people answer. They're real. They won't judge you. If you are in immediate danger, call 911.
