17-year-old boy adopted before aging out of system

People don't adopt children like Ethan.

A long-term foster-care child who has been in seven homes, who at 17 is almost an adult, about to age out of the system.

When some people looked at Ethan, they saw heartbreak. When Karen and John Pascucci looked, they saw their son.

It was the thoughtful questions he asked, the way his 6-foot-3 frame sheltered a gentle personality, his maturity and resilience, his desire for a permanent family.

"He said he wanted to put down roots with us," Karen said.

This month, at an emotional finalization hearing in a courtroom in Delaware, his home state, Ethan officially became the Pascuccis' son - and big brother to their 6-year-old daughter, Charley.

It constituted a too-rare happy ending for one of the thousands of teenagers who need and want families.

"I'm a kid," Ethan said in an interview at the family home in East Norriton. "I need structure."

Nationally, about 104,000 children in foster or group homes are eligible for adoption, including 1,718 in Pennsylvania and 1,039 in New Jersey.

Many suffer from trauma including violence and sexual abuse. And even if they don't, they're stigmatized by a public perception that they do.

"We believe they're completely adoptable," said Gloria Hochman, spokeswoman for the National Adoption Center in Philadelphia. "These kids, they don't ask for the newest video game or smartphone. They ask for basics. They want a mom to talk to about their homework, a dad to play ball. To go on a vacation. They want what other kids have."

Most teens don't find homes. And when they leave the foster system, usually at 18, the consequences can be dire: More than half experience homelessness. Nearly 30 percent end up in jail. Twenty-five percent don't graduate high school, and fewer than 2 percent finish college, making them more likely to be unemployed.

"Teens hardly ever get adopted," said Lauren Carroll, a matching specialist at the Bethanna child-welfare agency who helped place Ethan with the Pascuccis. "This is a Cinderella story."

In a way, Karen said, their path to Ethan started when she saw a movie: The Blind Side, a fact-based flick about a troubled foster youth who, with help from a loving family, becomes an All-American football player. She began to read and learn and think about homeless teenagers.

Karen, 46, is a corporate interior designer, and John, 49, works in recruitment at SunGard, the technology firm. They both have older children from previous marriages. When they thought about adopting, they imagined a girl, perhaps 10 or 12.

In June, they went to Campbell's Field, home of the Camden Riversharks, for a meet-and-greet with 40 children from Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Delaware. The youths at the event, held by the National Adoption Center, were ages 8 and up, and Ethan, then 16, was the oldest.

Was it love at first sight between him and the Pascuccis? Of course not. It was like the beginning of any important relationship, a mix of interest, hope, and uncertainty.

"I worried, 'Why would he want to be with us? Do we want to go through all this?' " John Pascucci said.

He also thought about the joy of parenting, the fun of having a young man around. He thought: If a boy doesn't have a family, whom does he call if his car breaks down? What does he do if he loses a job?

The couple knew having a teen would be challenging - and that they were good at managing change, including John Pascucci's 2010-11 tour in Iraq with the National Guard.

Because Ethan was older, he'd have a strong voice in whether he was adopted - and by whom. He liked that the Pascuccis were sports fans and fitness buffs, and he wanted to know more about them.

Three weeks after that initial meeting, Carroll, the Bethanna specialist, helped arrange a simple outing - miniature golf and pizza. At first, Ethan and the Pascuccis were hesitant, she said. But as the day progressed, people relaxed, the conversation came easy, and everyone had fun.

"After they left, Ethan said, 'That's my family. Those are my parents,' " Carroll said.

Weekend visits followed, commutes between the Pascuccis' home in Montgomery County and Ethan's foster home in Delaware. In August, Ethan came to stay. He brought everything he owned in a single plastic bag.

Ethan earns As and Bs as a junior at Archbishop Carroll High in Radnor. He played football in the fall. This spring, he's rowing crew, and hoping a college coach might notice him.

"It's your job to teach the students," English instructor Shawn Wells said, "but every once in a while a kid comes along, and you learn from the student. I'd put Ethan in that category."

Wells and others describe Ethan as engaged, caring, and hardworking.

"One of the nicest guys in the school," theology teacher Dan Finocchio said.

Ethan was 9 when his life changed: His father was stabbed to death by a man living in their home. Police said Ethan and his two younger sisters slept through the attack. Ethan's mother, addicted, was unable to parent.

"I don't like to whine," Ethan said, but years of changing schools and families followed. "Unsettling. Kind of sad. I would have liked to have stayed in one place, but I didn't really have any control."

Sometimes, he said, foster parents sincerely cared for him. Sometimes, they made him feel like a source of income.

He and his sisters were adopted when he was 12, but at 15, his adoption was "disrupted" - the industry term for dissolved - and he returned to foster care. Leaving his sisters was hard because he always looked out for them. Now he talks to them on the phone weekly, and sees them monthly, as he adjusts to his new family.

"I'm really excited," Ethan said.

Several things happened when Ethan arrived. The grocery bills went up. The laundry loads got bigger. Blue paint covered the old pink walls in his room.

A Baltimore Ravens jersey hangs in his closet, an autographed photo of quarterback Joe Flacco is on the wall. Karen Pascucci told Ethan his room is his space, and if he doesn't want to clean it, that's his decision.

"Unfortunately," John Pascucci said, deadpan, "he took us seriously."

Karen and John Pascucci love to watch Ethan play sports, and to discuss his classes and interests. They look forward to helping him pick a college, to creating memories as a family.

"We're absolutely thrilled," Karen Pascucci said. "Sometimes what you're looking for isn't always what you get."