Leap of faith lands Oregon foster kid in college

Like a lot of 18-year-olds headed to college, Matthew Shea admits he's a bit nervous. But unlike most people his age, Shea starts classes this week knowing he's tackled tough challenges before.

Shea was born with a disability that affects his speech and physical coordination, and has spent nearly half his life in state foster care. When he told his caseworkers and foster mom that he intended to go to a university in Oklahoma, they suggested he instead consider a local community college. At least for the first year.

It's not that they don't believe in Shea. But the reality is, teens who leave foster care after they turn 18 often have a difficult transition to life on their own.

National statistics indicate they are less likely to earn a college degree and more likely to become homeless, single parents or need public assistance. The odds for a disabled teen leaving foster care are even more daunting.

Shea knows all about odds. He faces them with determination, faith and a big-dimpled smile.

"I remember my dad's battle with cancer," Shea recalls. "He'd say: 'I'm not going to let this get me down.' Every time I've thought about quitting, something would remind me of him."

Shea was born with Sotos syndrome, a rare genetic disorder that is more commonly known as the "giant syndrome."

At 6 feet 1, Shea is thin, with a basketball player's large hands and feet. He has no middle knuckle in his thumbs.

"Not a problem," he jokes. "I win a lot of thumb wars."

His speech was impaired, so Shea had to learn to make himself understandable. He also deals with a learning disability that sometimes makes it more difficult to pay attention.

"If people want to learn, they can," he says. "It's a mindset."

When he was young, Shea's family lived in North Portland and regularly attended St. Johns Wesleyan Church.

Life changed dramatically for Shea when he was 9 and his father died of lung cancer at age 39.

Shea's older brother was also born with Sotos syndrome, but a more debilitating form. Their mother, who also copes with a disability, realized she couldn't care for both boys alone so she voluntarily put the older brother in state foster care.

Shea lived with his mom until he was 11 and through the fifth grade. Then one day, he says, the police came to their home.

Shea doesn't talk about the specific situation that led to his being taken into state foster care. He says his mother didn't give him up voluntarily. The two have maintained a close relationship -- her number was the first one he put on his cell phone "friends" list.

"Things weren't easy for my mom," he says, shaking his head.

Things weren't easy for him, either. Going to foster care meant Shea had to begin sixth grade with a new family, in a new school and without his church connections.

One of the first things Shea's mom gave him was a poster showing a tribal chief proudly on his horse. It's hung in his bedroom ever since, and last week the poster was among the things Shea packed to take with him to college.

The first foster home wasn't a good match, so in the middle of his freshman year Shea started over. He moved to another home and high school.

His new foster mom, LaNita Stephens, encouraged Shea to call her "grandma" as all the other kids did. At first, Shea says, he thought that was "kind of weird."

At 15, Shea was unsure of a lot of things.

For example, he says he didn't know how to cross the street until Stephens took his hand and did it with him. She also taught him to navigate Portland by bus.

Stephens says she remembers telling Shea: "You can do this. No problem."

Stephens' sister also stepped in as a mentor. One day she offered to drive Shea anywhere he wanted to go. His answer: Take me back to see my old house and my church.

The house had been sold. But Shea knocked on the door of the apartment behind the church and found the pastor and his family still there.

"Hello, stranger," said the Rev. Phil Hawk, who recalls that he immediately recognized the boy with the big smile.

Shea began attending church again, even though getting there meant a crosstown bus ride. He also became close with the Hawk family, joining them at church summer camp and on winter ski trips.

Shea says skiing is his favorite sport but laughs when he talks about how bad he is at it.

Whether it's skiing or anything else, his friends say, Shea won't give up.

"No matter how many times he fell down," Hawk says. "No matter how many times it hurt, he had the tenacity to get back up and go at it again."

Shea also took on more challenges at school. As club coordinator at Centennial High, he organized a club fair and a recruitment drive to increase the number of clubs at the school.

Years had passed with no new clubs established, but the year Shea was in charge, Centennial added nine new ones, says Guy Strot, the school's activities director.

"He went full bore," Strot says. "As a direct result of Matt's efforts, we probably have another 100 to 200 students involved in clubs."

Shea spent his senior year participating in "My Life," a Portland State University research project designed to discover whether youths with disabilities living in foster care fare better as adults if intensively coached on how to set and achieve goals.

Shea told his coach, Allison Turner, that his long-term dream is to be a youth pastor and his short-term goal was to enroll as a freshman this fall at Oklahoma Wesleyan University, an evangelical Christian university about an hour's drive north of Tulsa.

At first Shea's state child welfare caseworker, county disability services caseworker and foster mother all tried to dissuade him from going so far away. They'd never seen a kid with a disability come out of foster care and go to an out-of-state university.

But Shea was adamant. So Turner set to work helping him figure out how to cover the $22,000-a-year tuition with grants and scholarships. His caseworkers contacted their counterparts in Oklahoma. And his foster mom urged Shea to call the university and find out exactly what he needed to do to be accepted.

Shea was dealt a disappointing setback last month, when a judge turned down his request for legal emancipation. Technically, Shea moved out of his foster home last week, but he'll remain a ward of the state at least until a hearing in December. The decision means Shea's caseworkers can closely monitor how he does.

On the last Sunday before he left for school, Shea and his mom attended a church picnic. They stood side by side as the pastor called everyone into a circle and urged the three students who were heading off to college to share their biggest fears and their biggest joys. The others would pray for them, he promised.

Shea's fear: "Waking up late for class."

His joy: "Getting out of foster care."

Shea spent the rest of the week saying his goodbyes.

"A lot of people have faith in you, kid," Turner said.

His reply: "First, it took me to have faith in myself."

Michelle Cole: 503-294-5143; michellecole@news.oregonian.com