attemptedmother

Hey Let's Go Team!! Everyday Advocacy

2011-04-12T09:56:00.000-07:00

I have a team. An amazing team. We don't wear jersey's or have a cheer squad; we know who we are, and cheer for ourselves. This is a team of fellow advocates at our kid's school district with whom I consult, learn from and with, eat, drink wine and just be silly with on a regular basis - although not as regular lately - busy lives, but we meet when we can -- email has become our conversation de rigueur. Here is a letter I just wrote to my team, I wanted to let you in on this normally very private conversation.

Hoping you can hug your team today or find one soon. They are sanity savers. (I've changed names as to protect the not-so innocent :)

***

OK Team,

Need help. Ideas, resources, phone numbers, etc...

Sook, Rania and I met with Barb Ball and Renee Rogers (Sodexo Food Services) lady today and we talked about lunch time bullying.

For the four years of our Conversational English Coffee hour a very popular topic of conversation is why kids are not eating what mom packs from home. This is very concerning for parents, of course. Many parents tell their kids, 'Tough. Eat it anyway if someone comments on the particular look or aroma of your food, get used to it and eat it anyway' (not a bad way to handle bullying overall :) but other parents are highly distressed that they cannot feed their children what is healthiest for them; take one look at the offerings from Sodexo and say, 'you are kidding, right?' :D

I, of course would like to strangle the next child who makes someone feel weird about themselves - including their lunch. (or maybe strangle their parent?)

We handled this two ways today: Bullying and FOOD (Sook and I talked about the bullying piece, Rania, as a lunchroom monitor mom, talked about the FOOD)

Sodexo (Renee) is very excited to offer A to Z Salad bar this year. Have any of you seen it in the lunchrooms? Interested to hear your takes.

She is also excited to offer 'theme' days with ethnic food from different parts of the world. [HA! You are kidding right? I wish I could talk to you all in person, my hand will literally cramp up if I try and type my feelings about this idea. Papia, you warned me!!]

She and Barb both thought that with the Sodexo chef (he's REALLY good according to both of them, has a hat and everything! seriously, she said that) researching and learning and WITH A TASTE-TEST FOR FAMILIES, I thought maybe they could pull off adding a few extra dishes to the menu. I told them NOT to expect that this is "catering to the ethnic communities" -- I really think they thought that they would be providing some type of "service" to them. I said, 'WE WILL NOT be able to even remotely approximate authentic cuisine.' We had a bit of a conversation about why that is... None of us rolled our eyes, I promise! :D

I said, 'Everything with be hyphenated -AMERICAN' [HAHA] but I think that may be able to use this as a vehicle to talk about "palates, seasonings, staples" of other cultures. At least with the adults. I don't know how much they heard of what I said...we'll see. With the kids we can use it as a way to say, "try something new". Again, we'll see.

Sook had that look in her eye yesterday when we were planning our meeting for today.

I said YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BE COOKING KOREAN FOOD FOR THE ENTIRE SCHOOL!! That is too much, unfair, and is their ^%$%^ job. She laughed!!!

She has been doing 'Korean' day in Mary's (her daughter) class for 4 years, she is a pro on what Korean food American kids like :) Love her.

But Sook is interested in consulting with the district on Korean recipes and ingredients.

Rania has signed on to consult on Arabic ingredients and recipes.

We need someone who would like to come to a May 3rd 9:30am meeting and consult on ingredients and recipes from Desi cultures. ALL of them :D (not easy to represent over a billion people and many many regional tastes and palates - explained that too!)

A few moms who cook from different parts of India???

I have a couple of moms in mind. Papia, how about your friend who wrote the cookbook? Is this something she would be interested in helping Troy with? Is she local? Is she a Troy mom? (still have the cookbook by the way, I would like to buy a copy... can I pay you for this one? Or shall I go to Amazon?)

I know you cannot come -- but you all will be invited to the evening event FOOD TASTING - and I will want your honest opinions before we roll this stuff out to the kids. Marsha, she was talking about Italian too!! Karen do you know Polish food well? Can you each consult on those??

Another goal that I mentioned is that they NOT EXOTICIZE cultures. White/European cultures are as "cultural" as every other culture - LETS NOT USE THIS AS a way to "other people" any more than they are already being "othered'!!

THAT"S the food piece - we also talked about the bullying piece and will write more on that later...

help.

ideas?

hugs,
Jen

Passport Debocle

2011-02-26T15:09:00.000-08:00

Adoption is different type of bureaucracy. I understand complications involved with any large organization with lots of duties like a govt, any govt, making errors, being negligent, and downright cruel it is ineffectiveness. But we entered into an agreement with our govt, in fact, entered into a covenant with our children's birth countries also, that these children would, upon legal adoption, be full and unfettered citizens of the US - excepting for that blasted Presidency ineligibility. [And that too, hopefully, will change one day, any one of our kids or all of our kids would be an awesome President(s) :]

Obtaining a US Passport is the right of every American citizen lucky enough to be able to afford the paperwork involved with it's aquisition, time enough from work to be able to turn in the paperwork, fulfill the proof of citizenship, etc... [even without 'original documents' in hand. For a fee, they will track those down for 'natural born' citizens]

Only NOW is the US government, 13 years after our agreement, attempting to back out of the deal, outwardly stating that 'the rules have changed'. Really?! Why have those rules changed? Will they change again after this time? To who's benefit? What if I'm not OK with those changes?

Fear and incompetence are poisonous bedfellows, I agree, I'm not asking they change the rules, or speed up the process to accommodate my wishes, while others wait. And I completely understand mistakes of judgment or ignorance of the law. I'm just asking they not back out of the deal we made. It is criminal what has been done to many folks coming into the US legally, even after proving upon immigration their residency will provide direct benefit to the US, from other places in the name of "our safety"; including those coming WITHOUT even their adult consent, adoptees. The fact that these folks TEND to be easily identified as 'other than white' is not lost on me, not should it be lost in THIS issue.

China, Korea, the US, my husband and I decided this fate for our children. WE haven't taken lightly our end of the deal and we are not satisfied to watch our children get mistreatment by their own government. Many adoptees have been deported within the last number of years after committing crimes in the US because their parents were too ill-advised, negligent somehow in not completing citizenship requirements, or 'we changed the rules'. Deportation back to their birth countries, often places where they have no memory, no language, no family, no support. Deportation is NOT a punishment that fit those crimes, no matter the crime; it is cruel. [Please do not take this as a knock against my children's birth countries.] It is my firm belief that my children's citizenship is NOT up for renegotiation. [unless as adults, they choose to relinquish it] In fact I firmly believe that my children and all adopted children deserve automatic dual citizenship from both sets of their parent's nations. IF we truly believe that adoption is not less-than, this is what birth children even born to just one American parent receive, even if born abroad.

There is no reason to fear automatically those that may have been born in other countries. THAT xenophobia is where I believe these 'rule changes' originate and where I fully intend to ensure my children don't get punished unjustly for something they did not ask for. That's also where I get a bit ranky at the notion they may be seen as less than 100% American citizens. And that is the end of this particular rant :P

Carefully Taught

2011-02-03T08:31:00.000-08:00

The wikipedia definition of white privilege is this: In critical race theory, white privilege is a set of advantages enjoyed by white people beyond those commonly experienced by non-white people in the same social, political, and economic spaces (nation, community, workplace, income, etc.). Theorists differentiate it from racism or prejudice because, they say, a person who may benefit from white privilege is not necessarily racist or prejudiced and may be unaware of having any privileges reserved only for whites.

Do other white adoptive parents with kids of color think about how white privilege might play into their family relationships as our families grow and mature? Are others as confused about this as I have been?

As embarrassing as some of this may be for me, I would like to give a brief synopsis how I have come to understand this concept of white privilege by using personal examples. It helps me (and maybe other white people) to think about our experiences with race as real. To think about white culture as real. To reflect on our own upbringing and the fact that we were carefully taught how to be white and how to succeed in white culture and that this is not a race-neutral event.

This is my way of recognizing white privilege. Privilege that has allowed me to at times be able to hide my ignorance, not push myself to understand someone else’s point of view and has also allowed me when it is not convenient, to not face harsh realities of race in America. This topic is not fun to think about, it can feel very personal, but is essential in dealing with openly and honestly. Especially important for our trans-racially adoptive families with white parents and kids of color, but all whites need to begin these conversations openly and honestly.

I am not an expert in this topic, only an expert on my own life and experiences. Although it would be interesting and I believe is necessary for white people to understand, I am not here to teach the history of white privilege as an academic exercise. My intention is simply to share my personal experiences and journey in understanding how my race has impacted my life using white privilege as a guide.

My greatest learning curve was in understanding myself and my inner journey within regards to my race, makes sense for me to start there.

I am a white woman, wife and mom to three children – two we adopted. Our daughter is from China and our first son is from South Korea. Our third child, another son, was born to us. I am involved in our local Korean American and adoption communities and have served on numerous volunteer boards mainly around issues of social justice, diversity and bridging diverse communities. I like to think that even if we had not adopted kids of color, I would still be on this journey, but the truth is, that I probably wouldn’t have the bravery and sense of urgency that have only come from being a parent when your kids needs are involved.

I was raised in an upper middle class mostly white suburb of Detroit, a metro community that while boasting one of the most racially and ethnically diverse communities in the country, is also the second most racially segregated cities in the north; after Gary, Indiana.

By the 1950’s within the Metro Detroit community, many African Americans, thanks to the auto company’s good wages and the strong economy that surrounded that industry, while reaching economic stability higher than that of African Americans in other metro communities around the US, still faired worse than the local white community. Detroit has a long history of racist policies and practices, not unlike many other cities.

This brings me to 1968, where I come in – literally - the year of my birth, March 20^th. Within that first year of my life, many events happened in the US to shape our country’s racial conscience; a mere 15 days after I was born, MLK would be gunned down. Also within that year, the second summer of race riots within metropolitan communities in the US would occur, sparked by police brutality against African Americans in urban communities – for us locally in Detroit it was a police red-light district sweep that began in 1960 using the ‘Big Four’ police tactic; 4 man all white units targeting bars supposedly looking for prostitutes to arrest. During the summers of 1965 and 1966 these small groups of police officers would frequently stop young black men in the 12^th street neighborhood using racially degrading language and asking for ID – and in other ways harassing behavior or worse. The summer of 1968 erupted for a second summer of unrest in Detroit. That summer spurred the ‘white flight’ from our neighborhood that had begun a decade or so before from of the city of Detroit proper and creating massive suburban sprawl and a donut of abandonment and decay, similar to many other cities in the US. This created even more racial segregation now supported by miles of distance. Meanwhile blacks were moving into the city, making Detroit what is was to become, overwhelmingly majority African American city with an overall decreasing population, coupled with decreasing American manufacturing industry and jobs, reducing state and national funds for capital improvements and a failing school system where the public school drop out rate is now a shocking 80%.

My family was part of that ‘white flight’ 4 years later, after the riots, when we moved from Forer Street in Detroit to the almost all white suburb of Plymouth-Canton.

In our days in Detroit, I used to play with another preschooler on the street, an African American girl named Stephanie. I have only snapshots of real memory of our home and street, but vivid recollections of one story being told about our days there. It is one of the only and my earliest recollections of any conversation about race with my parents while growing up.

After having months of playdates at her house, it was one day I came home and announced that ‘Stephanie’s dad is black’, never noticing or mentioning that Stephanie as well as her mom, and two brothers and grandparents were also black. Considering the racial tensions in Detroit and around the nation at the time, I can’t help but think that my mom’s decision to send me over to Stephanie’s home as a 3 year old, knowing now as a parent what playdates really mean for 3 year olds, total inclusion in the family routine, was an attempt to give to me what she lacked, multiracial relationships - and was actually quite brave. Maybe she was looking for some herself too, with Stephanie’s mom.

My mom and I never got to talk about her thinking at that time. But she re-told that story in a lighthearted way many times and it always made me proud to think that even as a young child, race did not matter to me; making my colorblindness dreamlike, idealistic, as if my friendship with Stephanie was so pure it transcended race. The sweet innocence of a young child, before society was to imprint very strict rules regarding how, as a white girl, I was to interact and think about all people of color. I’m sure my mom’s purpose in the retelling was to show me that race really doesn’t matter, or shouldn’t. She may have even left out details in that story that didn’t support that notion. This sums up the entire “conversation” about race that I had with either of my parents until high school, when my junior prom date was a classmate named Brian, who was African American. Brian was one of only a handful of African American students in my high school of over 1,400.

Those conversations about Brian or rather dictates from my parents were dripping with intolerance, racism and anger at my decision; frustrating and confusing me, because for some reason race was no longer able to be transcended. Innocence lost. Hatred and fear in it’s place. They did not know Brian at all, only met him once, in fact.

I was carefully being taught that my race did not matter, but that was all that mattered about people of color.

These are memories painful to remember now, and painful to admit about my family right out loud. My parents were also very loving, church going faithful people who led Girl Scout troups, PTO’s, and marriage support classes. They were well within the norm in our community in their thoughts or lack of thoughts about people of color and their own privilege. They were not socially ostracized for their thoughts and feelings about people of color. It might even make this much easier if they were. Saying that they were the only whites with racist attitudes and conversations as I grew would compartmentalize the problem well. The truth is that I rarely met racially tolerant adults until I became an adult and let go of most of the racist people from my life.

Another truth is that it was not, as I was taught, a race-neutral decision to move away from our Detroit home. It was not simply a matter of better schools and more opportunities it was also an act of racial self-segregation and on some level was meant to teach us kids strong messages about race in the US. About where people belonged. And where they did not.

I was carefully taught that all-white communities offered better opportunities, a better life, and that while we may have some individual positive experiences with people of color, those relationships are isolated and not meant to last and certainly dating or marriage outside of my race was forbidden.

What I did get was that whenever we had to drive downtown Detroit (not unless we had to) or even straight through the city at 65 miles an hour on I-75 I was instructed to ‘lock the doors’ – and knew even at that young age that it was based on unfounded fear and racism. Although my mom spoke fondly of Stephanie and her family, we never saw them again once we moved. I understood who was right and who was wrong in the scenario, but rarely let my opinions be known. No one ever asked. The topic was quickly dropped if brought up. This clumsy, racist and confusing scenario is I see now, actually valued within white culture and not at all uncommon. I was taught not to talk about race as those conversations are seen as rude or inflammatory. Playing the race card. Looking for a fight, or not living up to our highest ideal in white culture; colorblindness.

What I was carefully taught was that driving through a community populated with a high percentage of people of color was dangerous. People of color were criminals and would attack a car full of white people, even traveling at 65 miles an hour. This meant that people of color were dangerous; white people were normal and white communities were safer. This was not to be talked about or questioned. In a family that respected education, well thought out political perspectives and rapier wit, it was OK to be really thoughtless and incoherent on the issue of race. My privilege also allowed these assumptions to go unchallenged in my school, church, in the news and among our friends.

What I have learned since then is that without the conversations about race, white culture and white people won’t be able to unpack or understand a non-white perspective, let alone let go of the racism. Once these topics are discussed rationally, the racist underpinnings don’t hold up as easily. But it takes lots of these conversations. With white culture teaching white people that these types of conversations are rude, where are we to go? How do we begin to finally cut the ties and maybe even get a little or a lot angry at our racist upbringings?

The US’s history of racial intolerance and fear, local communities and their unique spins on racism that have woven themselves in and throughout our histories, our choices and our lives are topics that should be at everyone’s dinner table. They are complicated and insidious. Most racism cannot continue without the silence and the colorblindness ideal. Not many other topics are as taboo or controversial within white culture as white privilege. But yet, because white culture holds colorblindness as the ideal method of race relations, and because of our lack of productive conversations about, for example, understanding how we as whites and our white culture adds to real life problems like how to reduce wage and social disparities, imprisonment and school suspension rates among African American males, of course they survive. Thrive actually. How could they not? And because these events are not race neutral as we were carefully taught, many whites create their own biases based almost completely on stereotypes. This is the perfect recipe for continuing the racism, albeit now perhaps often more underground.

It is a privilege not to have to have a well thought out response to people asking your opinion about race in the US, or not to have to consider historical impacts of your race in the US.

It is a privilege, afforded to whites, to ignore the effects of historical as well as current racism. In fact to ignore the topic of race altogether, rendering white culture invisible. The DEfault. The norm. Normal. Everything else compared to it ‘different’, exotic, not as good, or even model, as in model minority. Perfect, without needs or areas of struggle.

There are other privileges afforded to members of our society; privileges for the able-bodied, men, heterosexuals, those with wealth and class, all come with their own set of privileges that others do not enjoy to the extent of those with the privilege. I can only assume other societies have their own set of prescribed privileges also. To not see those, however, is to not grow and to not see yourself fully. To take them for granted sets the privileged up for perfect scenarios for abuse of those without and further feeds on itself. Unexamined privilege has become ugly to me as I unwind my privilege.

My journey over the last 14 years in parenting has held some hard lessons for me in understanding white privilege and continually unpacking my own racial and ethnic biases, and leaving them to dry out in the sunlight. I continually give up the privilege of ignoring race and racism and seeing my culture as invisible without the natural cause and effect that cultures have on thoughts and ideas. I’ve let go of the colorblindness ideal. We simply haven’t done the work yet as a society to have earned a colorblind society. Just by wanting it doesn’t make it so.

I’m in no way suggesting this has been easy, quick, nor do I expect it to ever be a job that is done, nor do I suggest that I am any kind of expert in this. However, we are all incredibly fortunate to have others who are experts and to whom we can rely and ally ourselves. Let’s do it. As whites, let's examine our upbringings and how we were all carefully taught to be white. I look forward to reading yours.

To All the Adoptive Parents in the Audience...(posted elsewhere also:)

2010-05-03T08:51:00.000-07:00

I noticed a pattern this weekend at the adoption conference I attended and I feel the need to talk about within the context of the adoption community, but I thought I'd post it here too, on my blog that is not only just about adoption stuff. This is a criticism and a long one. Buckle up.

Many of us in the adoption world are well-aware of the concept of the 'adoption triad': adoptee, birthparent and adoptive parent. This model is used to illuminate the issues that may be common to all three members of the triad of adoption for purposes of potential healing, empathy and better understanding. The Core Issues in Adoption model uses the triad model when illuminating the similarities and differences in experiences and emotion from all three members. To read more http://www.adoptionsupport.org/res/7core.php

Although there are other models of understanding the sometimes complex world of adoption, I wanted to use this one in this note to make a plea to adoptive parents who may go to events where adult adoptees are speaking or even possibly with their own child. My personal view is similar to the view that among triad members we can all find some level of healing and healthy discourse, often vibrant and challenging, that can potentially lead to a greater understanding of the experiences of the choices that are made in regards to the welfare of children, hopefully leading to better, more humane and more transparent relinquishments and subsequent adoptions (if appropriate and ethically based). I hope this is the goal of ALL adoptive parents.

With that being said, my expectations for the Alliance for the Study of Adoption and Culture held at MIT in Cambridge, Massachusetts this last weekend were high as were my spirits. My friend invited me to come and share a room at the last minute; I was needing a weekend away for some time, and it just seemed to work out. Amazingly. So I was excited literally to not have to cut someone's food at dinner :) and relax with what I hoped would be some cutting edge research on adoption and culture (actually I read title to be "the culture of adoption", much different than the reverse and the actual title!) and all that good messy stuff. I hoped my brain would get a good workout and thought most of it might even go over my head! My experiences within the actual session offerings I will talk about elsewhere and at another time, but what is most burning in my mind are frankly, the audience adoptive parent questions and or um.. input to the sessions.

This is not the first time my cringe factor has been on 10+ in the presence of white adoptive parents responding to adoptees of color, but one in particular I will mention here in the hopes of creating a productive dialog among whomever would like to comment to this note, with an eye to adoptive parents.

After the screening of Deann Borshay Liem's great new documentary, 'In the Matter of Cha Jung Hee' Saturday evening, the moderator announced that she has 20 minutes for questions. The first comment went something like this... "Hi, I'm a therapist (or psychologist...?) and an adoptive parent and I just have one question for you... Are you whole?"

What?! And huh??!!

Seriously? The room went cold. OK What does that mean? That question means absolutely NOTHING. Except that she just got to tell the entire room that she might be the WORST therapist in the entire world. How is someone supposed to answer that? Let alone a filmmaker who clearly said it all on screen... yes, the floor was open for questions, but the idea of adoptive parents constantly and consistently asking adult adoptees to emotionally "unwind" themselves in public so that they can tease out the threads called 'race' or 'adoption' has just got to stop.

This example question I talk about here is the quintessential question of 99% of the questions that white adoptive parents either pretended to pose (not really listening to either the initial presentation or the answer to the "question") to the adult adoptees of color over the course of the weekend. There are literally too many to recreate here. And this isn't the only time this type of absolute rude and uncalled for sense of entitlement has irked me beyond beyond.

Adoptive parents do not get to know how every adult adoptee is wired emotionally. While I do believe as triad members we can learn and empathize with one another, especially white adoptive parents doing their own "work" in dubiously putting together their 'strategies' of parenting (I will talk about elsewhere) they DO NOT have the right to ask that any person, asked with a smile or a frown, especially a person of color, to answer a question that would dictate a level of inner knowledge only to be shared willingly and possibly on a most trusted mental heath professional or longtime friend's couch.

I said 'most especially white parents asking adoptees of color' because white privilege teaches white people that we have a RIGHT to know whatever random question happens to pop into our minds from people of color. We HAVE to be aware of how white privilege shapes us, especially in the sometime intimate encounters that accompany adult adoptees that have agreed to share publicly that which possibly for the majority of one's life, remains the most private of private.

The simple fact, white privilege is employed to assert a boundary breech with a person of color. That is entitlement at it's zenith; that an adoptee of color's experiences, even extremely painful and personal ones, really belong to white parents who can then use that info (or soundly ignore it, which I have seen all too often, when it is actually given, often uncomfortably) to make their lives easier with their children of color or even potentially learn the 'tricks' to keep their children from the sting of racism, attachment, you name it...

Please, white adoptive parents with kids of color who may be approaching situations that may SEEM as if you get to just ask anything, consider that the person OFFERING information to you to help your children does that at a COST to them, sometimes not a small cost and we MUST tread carefully and check the entitlement at the door, if you have decided to bring it with you.

My Instincts and Race

2010-03-23T13:17:00.000-07:00

What are instincts really? Where do they come from? Most would agree they are pretty important. We give them lots of weight in an argument. Mothers use them constantly as discussion-enders. We tend to not question someone's instincts (especially when it comes to family matters). We need instincts. We use them when we drive all of the time as well as other matters of life and death. They often save our lives. They give us warnings to stay away from people or events that could potentially harm us, they quickly draw us close to others. Some people seem more 'plugged into' their own and therefore able to make decisions that 'just seem right'. One often makes decisions based on instinct. Important ones. Who to marry, where to live, whether or not to have another child.

But what are they and how are they formed?

And what if our instincts lead us to places we don't want to be. If we can't reasonably ague someone else's instincts, how can we argue with our own instincts? Can they change? Can we change them? How?

What makes up instincts? Are we born with the entire set of instincts we use throughout our lives? If not, how do we learn them?

And what if instincts can change?

'It's a gut feeling."

Actually I know they can. I have begun to change my instincts about race.

Here is how I got started.

I had a class in an undergrad teacher methods class called, "The Sociology of Teaching". The prof was Dr Lauren Young. (she now works at an educational granting institution in Chicago, I googled her :) She was a young African American Professor of Education at Michigan State University - I was one of a cadre of extremely young and all white juniors in an alternate Elementary Education degree program called Learning Community. This was a 'concept track' for teachers - we took all our core classes together and got the best teacher prof's Michigan State had to offer who also bought into the concept. Overall, it was true. I had a great education. In large part, due to Dr Young's class.

It was in this class that I first uncovered my biases. Until then I thought (hoped) that I had none or just a few. She safely allowed those of us willing (not everyone was) the opportunity to see, even just a tiny bit, of what students of color feel being educated in an all white educational system and society.

The first hurdle the class had to overcome was actually being called white. As well as calling kids of color Asian American, Latino or African American. We didn't like it. It just didn't "seem" right (remember those instincts?) I mean, yea, we were white and that was just a way to refer to the kids in our classes, but saying it out loud was just, garish somehow. Vulgar in some way. What way? I don't know!

She said, after one of the more brave among us said, 'Why use African American? Seems kinda fake to me. What happen to black and what is wrong with it?'

'Let's just use these terms because as an African American woman, that is what I prefer, and I'm the only one in the room. People get to choose the way in which they would like to be referred.' said very calmly. (Now I realize how much patience she must have had to exercise)

She showed us a video in which a white teacher complimented her African American student on the color of her sweater (bright orange) and said it looked really pretty next to her skin.

'Eek' a non-audible gasp was felt around the room (again, those pesky instincts!).

'So, tell me about your impressions of the video.' said Dr Young.

I meekly raised my hand. 'Um, the little girl seemed very happy that the teacher complimented the little girl on her sweater.'

'She did, didn't she?' (teachers, and especially teachers of teachers are great at leading someone's impression with a very positive tone of voice, she was an expert :) 'That is because she was SEEING the girl. All of her. Including her skin. That teacher, and all teachers, have to see their students, and gain their respect before they can teach them.'

For the rest of the term, sadly, we discussed whether or not this was appropriate for the teacher to comment on the little girls skin color compared to her sweater. It was the first time I felt that I had an opinion on race that mattered. That my experiences from a very early age had shaped me. I had biases. Lots of them. And racism. Lots of it. I wasn't sure how I was going to let it go, but I knew I would. My instincts were somehow formed, and they could and would be somehow re-formed. I left that class secure only in how I would refer to my students of color, unless they informed me otherwise. And a promise to myself to make better choices and unpack my own experiences so that I can firmly set the biased ones aside.

Over the years, I have done exactly that. Over and over again. And expect to continue to do so.

Certainly instincts begin forming at a very early age and without one's consent. The implicit as well as explicit information that is put into our brains through our senses has a large part in forming them. Example: TV and movies as well as more implicit visuals; who do you see when you go to the grocery store? the park? You might not always be paying attention, but all of that data is being stored. If those faces are all the same, for example, or always look exactly like ours, that informs our instinct. In this case it makes sense that our experiences, everyone being like us, that becomes the de-fault, the normal, with which we begin to compare all other experiences. But if we see lots of other different types of people, have everyday normal and routine interactions with them, that becomes our normal. Get where I'm going?

Much of instinct creating experiences are not directly in your control 100% of the time, especially when you are growing up. Others have made those decisions for you. Whether or not they intended to (I tend to think they did intend to). But some of this information is, even as a small child, in your control and grows increasingly within your control as you age. Those decisions you CAN and DO make daily are within your control as well as how you choose to interpret each of them.

How about explicit stuff? That is easy right? I don't have to purchase a book by someone I suspect may have a bias (or at least ones we don't agree with). I don't have to talk to someone who has already given me big or little hints that they are prejudiced. I don't even have to smile at them or give them any power in my life.

I can learn the history of racism in the US. Which groups have been marginalized and for what reason? When were all Americans given the right to vote? I can be surprised by the answer, and not shamed by it. I can talk about it and educate others. I can make friends with people who have done and are doing the work of rooting out racism and learn from them. I can find mentors and friends and always learn. My school system decided to leave much of American history out within regards to marginalized groups, but I can decide now whether or not I want them to stay marginalized, especially within my life.

This explicit information is forming my instincts, as well as what I put into my brain through my senses. I will never experience life as a person of color, but thankfully I can re-do much of what I was programmed to be as a white person growing up in our racist society.

The Onion Family - Family Identity

2010-03-23T07:14:00.000-07:00

Layers. Individual and distinct. Built around a core.

This is how I see my family at times. We are at our core, a two parents and three children who love each other very much. We have layers of who we are. We are an Asian American family, we are an Irish American Family, we are an adoptive family, we are a biologically connected family. Each individual member is not all of these things at once, but all of our different layers make up our whole family. Without one piece, we would be whole and we wouldn’t be who we are now.

When our big kids were small this thought of layers was comforting to me. I became confused before I thought of us this way. I wanted each of my kids to know and be proud of their heritages as well as who they are now and positive about their futures. Every parent wants that, right?

If I looked at all of the pieces of who we were and approached them differently and focused on them at different times, I thought, 'Yea, we can be all of this. All at the same time and over time, wonderfully and uniquely made. We can do this as a family.' The thought of dropping my little kids off at that enormous (in comparison) Chinese or Korean Language School terrified me. (imagine how my kids might have felt) or had I waited for them to 'take the lead' and tell me what they need to understand about sometimes adult issues when it comes to identity politics, overwhelmed me. But the thought that we would all go, just made sense. I am not an Asian woman, but I am the mom to kids who are Asian, and that does put me on the spectrum of people who need a deeper understanding of Asian America (including but not limited to Chinese and Korean America), China and Korea. As well as the understanding of history, experiences as well as a deep empathy with all people of color in the US.

Philosophy, point of view, how a family self-identifies is important. It is always happening to all of us all of the time. Whether or not one spends much time talking or thinking about it.

For those that don't carefully and conscientiously put this together for their family, no matter who they think they are; adoptive, Chinese, Christian, Korean, etc. I worry about. Default identities can be stereotyped identities. No one wants to be a stereotype.

Are we Americans? What does that mean? Do we choose between being American and being Korean? Why can't we be both? Do we choose between being Korean American and Chinese American? How about Asian American? How about white? Christian? Agnostic? Unitarian Universalist?

What or who implores people make these choices about who they are? For what purpose? To which communities do we owe our allegiance and duty?

As our kids are getting older, I am seeing this slightly differently. Within our family, it makes perfect sense for us to celebrate Irish American holidays as well as Chinese and Korean American style celebrations and holidays. But at school (the children's society) I'm not sure if they would feel comfortable wearing 'Kiss Me Im Irish' t-shirts, unless to be ironic (which they love to do:). To be continued. Maybe all of this identity stuff shifts as a family matures...

These are each separate identities, with their own unique and relevant histories, narratives and futures. We have each of these identities in our family, when we spend time learning more about them or spend time with people who believe the same and/or can mentor us, we in essence learn about our own unique tapestry. Our onion.

Old Pictures of Mom

2010-03-13T06:40:00.000-08:00

My mom died suddenly a month and a half before I turned 31. She was 58. Glen and I had been married for 8 years and both of our older kids were home with us. She lived in Florida during the winter, but we had just spent a couple of weeks together over the holidays. Of course we were busy with the dealings of the holiday, she was busy traveling to all the relatives homes, trying to see everyone and catch up on that that she had missed since the last time she was in in June. I was forever and blissfully in the throws of being a mom of two busy little ones.

My mom always stayed to help, and by helping it usually meant holding baby E and now big sister M, reading books, daydreaming with me over coffee about what kind of people they were going to be. She loved bathing them and getting jammies on. She loved babies - especially at bath time. Johnson's Baby Wash was her favorite. I made sure to use it too. She loved teaching me all of the tricks and skills of caring for a baby and toddler. I loved listening to her. Of course I did not know that was the last time I would see her alive. I would have asked her more about letting teens make their own mistakes and always loving them though it all. And living with depression. She was expert at each.

I've been back through the photos of that holiday; I didn't get ONE good picture of her with the kids together. I can't believe I missed that. It was our first Christmas with son E home from Korea, and his birthday is December 25th. He turned one that year. My mom would be gone on February 12th without so much as a goodbye.

I now make a point to aim the camera at the adults in the room too, every once in a while. Hard way to learn that lesson. I learned a few brutal lessons through losing her the way I did.

I remember the first day I was alone in our house after she died. All of the commotion of planning the funeral and burial were done, all the thank you notes had been written, although initially I was not sure what to thank people for. My pen hesitated on the first few notes, even toying with the idea of skipping this part. Perhaps that is why food is a part of funerals, you can thank people and feel grateful for at least the time and effort it took to bring food. It felt strange thanking people for coming to the funeral, although I did, as that as is the way you greet people. But really I wish they didn't have to add this to their day. I wished they could just go home and eat dinner after work, not fish around for last minute babyistters for the kids, rummage around for something black (or dark blue, dark blue is OK right?) to wear. I wished I wasn't there and certainly wished my mom was alive.

After all of the planning, procedure and social graces of burying a mom (MY mom) were done, the kids back on somewhat routines, baby son E was napping (in small doses), daughter M back in preschool, I looked forward to being alone. That first day back to 'normal' I just happened to look out the window when the mailman came to deliver a package for Glen for work. I opened the door before he rang the bell and already the tears were halfway down my checks. I instantly felt this stab of pain for everyone that did not know her and all she wasn't going to be able to see or do. I had big plans for her! The fierceness of that realization surprised me.

If a living body gives off energy and other human bodies receive that energy, it makes sense to me that there is a certain level of that energy that remains within the receiver and I believe that energy is located in the middle of the throat. It stays there.

"I'm sorry you didn't meet her. You would have loved her." I said to the friendly mailman just doing his regular route, trying to smile, hoping these pale words would comfort him even a little. I didn't want the realization of her loss to break him - he had to finish his route! After all he was missing out on his life would not be the same as it would have been, even if he had just met her for a brief moment. Her kindness was palpable, her ability to see people without judgement was healing (in a sometimes broken world), and her willingness to do for others at times, pathological. The butterfly effect had made it's brutal impact on this mailman, and so many thousands, maybe millions of others! Horrible!

She often stayed with us for a few days, and did on that last trip too, although the details of that stay forgotten the minute it was over. She often stayed with us long enough for her to get into the routine of our lives, which several times a week involved receiving packages for Glen's work. It is just faster for him to get them at home vs. being routed through the mail room, he was traveling so much, the package could potentially sit on his desk when he needed it. She would have met the mailman eventually. Perhaps she already did.

"It's OK", he said. Certainly confused about my awkward comment and my tears. He didn't do a great job of convincing me that it was going to be.

OK a little about the blog name...

2010-03-05T04:43:00.001-08:00

So what do you think of my blog name?

I am not entirely thrilled with it to be honest. It sounds kinda negative and that is not my style at all.

First I thought no one else would have it.

Second, I thought that it did describe my approach to motherhood. I see my role as yes, a describer - a noun, but also a verb - an action.

I am not an expert. I've noticed adoptive parents, for some reason, are prone to this claim expert status when their kids suddenly hit 10 or 12 or 18 or 37... While I understand the importance of sharing with others who ask for advice or help, I do not like to be judged by anyone about my life and they way I/we have chosen to live it, I extend that same respect to everyone else. But a good friend who is informed, caring and be honest? invaluable.

I have been very fortunate to have had very intelligent, brave people in my life who have offered me another perspective, very often when I really needed it and were ready for it (funny how that happens :) and it has made all the difference in my life. In fact, I do believe that is why we are all put here together.

Third, and I know I am not alone here either, I had a very chaotic family life as a child. My mother was depressed and father was an alcoholic, mercifully calling the marriage quits the summer before my senior year of high school. Our home was at times loving, fun and energetic, but for many years all I could remember were fights, doors slamming, embarrassment, shame, neglect and abuse. I certainly did not have an ideal to look towards when building our family and it took many years to undo much of my hardwiring when it came to mothering my three. (thank heaven I was able to unpack and begin to heal from at least the abuse before I started a family) I wanted more than anything to 'be present'. That was very tough for me. I can say now that I have mostly overcome these patterns and have begun to learn much better ways to cope with stress and stay in the moment with my family, but it has been challenging. I've also begun to have more fun memories pop up when things were not so bad at my house as a kid. And I absolutely find solace in the calm, organized, encouraging, silly, welcoming and normal home that we have been able to create for our family.

I will not talk about my kids in detail here, still trying to decide if I will even use their real names. I just don't like to put their stuff out there and more importantly claim their stories as my own, that is their job if they choose later on :)

Whose story is it anyway?

Post to ABC News about a story they did on Transracial Adoption

2010-03-05T04:23:00.000-08:00

Actually great piece from a mainstream media outlet. I forget to mention this in the post. I should go back to ABC and say that.

Here is the link http://abcnews.go.com/WN/transracial-adoption-america-today/story?id=9914150

And here is my post in the comment section:

Per usual the elephant in the living room is not being discussed, but is the nerve that is struck in many white people in the US and certainly employed by many posting on this story and whenever this topic is brought up. This is where out and out racists (nice selection on this thread, I might add) and folks that claim to be non-racist usually meet. That is employing and NOT admitting/unpacking their own white privilege. Many white people's ideal in race relations is colorblindness. That is a gift only given to certain whites in our society. People of color do not have such luxuries to 'see beyond color'. White couples adopting kids of color need racial identity 101 training early and often if they would like relationships to with their - soon to be adults - kids of color. (BTW - Racial identity 102 and beyond is knowing that whites are FOREVER students in people of color's experience area and must work to be allies, not appropriators of someone else's experience - and that white culture is real and something that as whites begin to critically analyze, can potentially change for the better) As white people we need to take the topic of race seriously, but certainly white adoptive parents by adopting their kids of color are charged with this task whether or not they choose to take it on.

ski weekend pt.2

2010-02-28T07:42:00.000-08:00

This is why I hate skiing.

Of course there is a downside to everything.

1. It is too expensive. 'Nough said.

2. The other people that ski. "Hey the 80's called. They want their white entitlement back." I can't tell you how many extra kids and families we've invited skiing with us - Glen even volunteering to teach their kids for the day just to get some of our friends hooked on skiing so we can enjoy it with them. I love socializing, but I dislike small talk with strangers. Especially those with attitudes when asked to NOT have glass by the pool (a very simple safety request and not a new policy in any pool I've been in over the last 15 years or so), outfitting their 4 year olds in $1,500 in brand new ski equipment and literally abandoning those same 4 year olds for hours on the bunny hill to 'practice their turns'. (Her lesson doesn't start until 1. It is 10:30, she's not practicing turns for 2 and a half hours, trust me. She is crying on the ground by the ski rack for 40 minutes and then I lost track of her and worried about her the entire rest of the day.) Call me prejudiced against people dripping in privilege and oblivious to others, you'd be close.

3. The food. Ugh. Especially since I have, in the last 3 years since Elliot was born, gone up and down the bunny hill exactly 3 times, I have not burned off enough calories to make the 'Boyne Chili Bar' with all the fixin's, worth it. Can we get a fresh salad up in here? I can't eat saltines when everyone else is gorging on onion rings and snickers bars knowing they'll burn those calories finishing off the day. Until Elliot is up and running on the chair lift and making the proper "pizza slice" with his skiis (maybe next year?!) I do not burn off enough calories to even justify the saltines. Carrying everyone else's ski gear does not count as official exercise. However carrying a screaming three year old and all of HIS gear from the lunch room when he learns he is not skiing with dad, does. (thankfully not too much of that)

So a give and take to be sure. But for us right now, we'll take it.

ski weekend

2010-02-27T14:52:00.000-08:00

Skiing is the greatest sport with a family. If you can handle all the STUFF. I mean copious amounts of stuff. Hats, mitts, snowpants, neck cuffs, bathing suits, flip flops (swimming in the hot pool after skiing is a highlight - chance to wear off the soreness of the day, kids are active and mom and dad can sit and soak with a glass of something relaxing...as long as it is in a plastic cup!)

Here are the benefits of skiing with kids:

1. We live in Michigan, a very beautiful state - if you don't enjoy winter, you will be unhappy half of the year.

2. It is hard - most things we do are to make things easier for our kids. And with skiing you actually challenge your kids (and yourself) to do something that is complicated and cumbersome. The payoff is at the end of a long skiing day, you have all these accomplishments you can celebrate together. Of course some actually are quite funny, adding to the enjoyment and teaching your kids to laugh at their mistakes.

3. It is exercise in the winter - hello, couch potato, anyone?

4. Apres' ski. Teaching my kids to enjoy a adult type event like appetizers and polite conversation has turned into something I look forward to teaching them and I think something they might employ later on. (that might sound odd - but I had to learn this as an adult)

5. My husband loves it. Seriously, he loves skiing with our family. He is their teacher, no ski school for our brood. He gets misty eyed talking about the kids and what great skiiers they are becoming. I go with it. They pick that up too, of course. And love skiing with their dad. Something they all share. He is awesome, just gets giddy when we do things that his family did the and always wanted. With skiing, I agree :)

6. The ultimate: it beats video games.

First post

2010-02-21T16:34:00.000-08:00

This is my attempt at a blog.

Here is the disclaimer: I make no promises of insight, authority, or expertise in any of the thoughts that I might get a chance to explore here. Most likely I will regret at least some of this, and reserve the right to go back and add, delete or change any of my ideas, real or imagined.

How's that for a grabber?

If you are still reading, let's go.