87.6%
423,000
45%
100%
THE TOOLBOX
Based on a million true stories
WHY
I wrote Charlotte's Toolbox after speaking at foster care conferences around the country. In every region, there was a common theme. Children felt unknown and unfamiliar to their surroundings because of their continuously shifting environment. With lives so temporary: new schools, new homes, new rules, and new faces, how can we expect children to thrive?
This docu-film illustrates how stability and love can change a little girl's destiny.
TO BE KNOWN
I spoke with teenage children in foster care around the country about what they needed to transition out of the foster care system. The responses, in every region, was they wished someone would have taken time to fuel their interests and help develop their talents. Words like unknown, unseen, invisible, unfamiliar, were constant sentiments. Many of the older children talked about losing all of their possessions as they shifted from home to home. In each home, leaving behind family photos, keepsakes, and personal belongings.
Children growing up in foster care need long standing relationships with people who know them on an intimate level. These children need support from people who know their dreams, goals, talents, favorite foods, and fondest memories. More importantly, these young people need adults who inspire them to dream and achieve their goals.
SYNOPSIS
At age seven, Charlotte's life is disrupted. She is sent to Seattle to live with her grandpa Charlie, a Korean War Veteran. Grandpa Charlie and Charlotte have always had a loving relationship, so his new role as her legal guardian is a welcomed change. On their first Christmas together, Charlotte received an American Girl doll, the gift she'd always wanted. It was the last gift she opened that morning, an old, rusted, red toolbox, would be the one she would keep for a lifetime.
After Grandpa Charlie's death, Charlotte must maneuver the world without the love and support she'd received from her grandfather. Her only remaining ties to her grandfather are the memories locked inside the rusty, red toolbox.
