tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-91717495025024903782024-03-13T03:26:36.888-04:00Statistically ImpossibleA birthfather in an open adoption who stuck around. This is my voice.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.comBlogger82125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-3173866029854351752013-05-11T03:04:00.000-04:002013-05-11T03:04:03.002-04:00Wishes For The Disappeared<br />
To the mothers and fathers whose pain and sadness were too great to stay, I hope you find the peace you're looking for.<br />
I wish you could have stayed. I wish you could share in the joy of everything you are missing. There is happiness in playing, laughing, arguing, and crying with our children.<br />
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I'm sorry you couldn't stay. I wish it could have been easier. I wish you hadn't felt so alone. I wish you knew the support you're looking for is in the family you're hiding from.<br />
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I wish you could come back to us. Hopefully the things you need to work through are not so punishing as they appear. I hope you can let yourself be happy again. You deserve to be happy. I hope, someday, that you can share your happiness with us, because we deserve it too.<br />
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I wish you could see how hard it is when you aren't here. You bring so many gifts with you. Even when you felt alone, when you felt useless, we loved to be near you. I hope you will share your future with us. You can do such amazing things. We want to cheer you on, if you'll let us.<br />
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I hope you'll come back, because we can't wait to see what you'll do next. We want to show you that you're still our family. We want to show you how much we still love you.<br />
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Even if things can't be the same, I hope you know you're worth so much more than you give yourself credit for. I wish you would come back, because there's someone very important who really wants to know you.<br />
I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-84667296135888425492013-04-20T21:55:00.000-04:002013-04-20T21:55:53.148-04:00We Beat SOPA and PIPA<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Save internet privacy.</span> </span></div>
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<a href="http://www.cispaisback.org/"><span style="font-size: x-large;">#StopCISPA</span></a></div>
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Get the word out.</div>
I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-40375215266271574992013-04-10T12:52:00.003-04:002013-04-11T18:20:48.089-04:00What Would You Ask?Next Saturday I will be giving a brief presentation at the agency that
arranged my son's adoption. I've been invited to talk about my own
experience as well as first/birthfather issues and experiences in a broader context.This has left me groping for handholds. There's so much that I could cover, but I only have thirty minutes. To narrow things down I've decided to come to you, my brain trust.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #93c47d;">What do you want to know about my experience?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #93c47d;">What questions do you have about first/birthfathers?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #93c47d;">Have I shared anything here that changed your perspective? What merits repeating?</span></span></div>
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Please help me and the hopeful future parents I'll be talking with this weekend. Take a moment to leave your questions and ideas in the <a href="http://statisticallyimpossible.blogspot.com/2013/04/what-would-you-ask.html#comment-form">comments</a>, send me an <a href="mailto:statistics.lie@gmail.com">e-mail</a>, or a <a href="https://twitter.com/I_palendrome">tweet</a>. The presentation is Saturday the 20th, so the earlier you can get something to me the more help it will be. As always anonymous comments are welcome. If you don't want a comment to be published just say so in the comment itself. I'll read it, but will not publish it. Take warning: this may lead to a new series of posts.<br />
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Thanks for your time.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-67664161476728816472013-04-01T13:36:00.000-04:002013-04-01T13:36:45.342-04:00Things of NoteAs always there is a lot cooking in the background here. Many things are afoot and, for a change, they are mostly positive. There are some posts coming as well as updates to some projects I've been working on.<br />
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Worth noting is that I will be putting together something tangible that lists resources birthfathers may find useful/validating. I will also be working with my local chapter of Catholic Social Services (who facilitated my son's adoption) to c<i>reate</i> resources. The exact nature of those projects have yet to be determined, but there are several ideas that deserve pursuit.<br />
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As a final note, I have decided to open the door to other goings on in my life. But that won't happen here. Instead I have created a Twitter account. That's where I'll share recipes, ramble about my other interests, and share the general "slice of life" kind of information. The blog will keep its focus on adoption issues, my experience, relational theory, and relevant news. The Twitter page will have links to things I find interesting, that affect my personal life, recipes, as well as thoughts about adoption, relationships, and life as a human. If you want a more complete picture of who I am beyond my thoughts on adoption, Twitter is where you'll find it. I've even added a convenient widget to the sidebar making it easy to find me. If you don't have a Twitter account but still want to get the great recipe for sesame/thyme salmon I posted today, you can check out the link below.<br />
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<a href="https://twitter.com/I_palendrome"><br /></a>
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<a href="https://twitter.com/I_palendrome"><span style="font-size: large;">@I_<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">P</span>alendrome</span></span></a></div>
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I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-61887218347101797192013-02-27T04:20:00.000-05:002013-02-27T04:20:03.595-05:00In a Name - Politics and Power of What We Call Our Children"A rose, by any other name, would smell as sweet". - Shakespeare<br />
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Juliet argued that the names of things are meaningless compared to what they are. It isn't the name that matters but the literal thing itself that is important. Terms are immaterial. It is the dense matter of a thing we must know. She explores the division between language and reality the way many adolescents do.<br />
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"Truth has nothing to do with words. Truth can be likened to the bright
moon in the sky. Words, in this case, can be likened to a finger. The
finger can point to the moon’s location. However, the finger is not the
moon. To look at the moon, it is necessary to gaze beyond the finger,
right?" - Sixth Patriarch Huineng<br />
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As a society we love the idea that there is depth to our world and experiences that language cannot touch. The base words we use to describe a thing cannot come close to encapsulating its totality. Equally important, however, is symbolism. We use symbols constantly. We use them so often that we forget they are symbols at all. That is what the teaching from the Sixth Patriarch Huineng is about. There is nothing wrong with symbolism so long as we remember what it is.<br />
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When discussing adoption it's common for people to talk about <b>real</b> things. Some talk about<b> real</b> birth certificates, <b>real</b> parents, or <b>real</b> names. Because so much changes for a child during adoption it makes sense there is a search for solid, unchangeable reality. From birth to adoption every facet of a child's reality may change. For many this includes permanently changing their name.<br />
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There are arguments to be made for both maintaining a child's given name from birth as well as changing it. Changing a child's name to resemble that of the family parenting him/her is an inclusive choice. The idea is the child will feel more a part of that family unit and having a similar name will reduce stigma the child may otherwise have encountered.<br />
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On the other hand, maintaining the child's name from birth is inclusive in a different sense. That choice invites difference into the family. It also highlights connection with the family of origin. Highlighting that connection has many costs as well as benefits. Stigma comes into the picture again. Highlighting difference to a child who already feels different can be used for healing, but it can also be damaging. Some times it is helpful to have something concrete to address when feeling different and alienated. The ability to say "this is the thing that makes me feel different, it's open for anyone to see, and it really isn't a big deal at all" can be comforting. At other times, however, the alienation needs a counterpoint. In these times it's necessary to highlight similarity and belonging rather than difference. Unfortunately that counterpoint often becomes an attempt to minimize or remove any trace of difference. When taken to extremes that tactic is usually counterproductive.<br />
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With the rat's nest of complications that arise when considering changing a child's name, a simple solution presents itself; adoptive parents and birth parents name the child together.<br />
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Many parents do exactly that. Unfortunately it isn't a practical solution for everyone. Some people don't make an adoption plan for their child before birth. Some people never make an adoption plan, but choice is not a luxury their circumstances allow. Many people don't have the opportunity to ever meet the parents of their children. There are as many reasons for this solution not working as there are examples of its success.<br />
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In Festus' case, Athena and I chose to name him without input from Prof Plum and Ms Scarlet. I anticipated that they would later change his name, which they did. I bear no umbrage. I happily call my son by his given name. But it was very important to me that I had the opportunity to give him a name I chose. In the past I've heard people discuss the names birth parents give their children. A common question in those conversations is "did they every think about ______?" The blank changes, bu the basic idea is always there. "Did they even spend five minutes thinking about this?"<br />
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As a birthparent let me assure you the answer is unequivocally "yes". Athena and I spent a long time talking about what names to consider for our son. We also considered how to approach naming, whether to include Prof Plum and Ms Scarlet, even if we should abstain from naming our son at all to allow them the chance to give him his first and only name. Eventually we decided to give him a name we chose for him. There were many reasons for that decision.<br />
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In our case, as with most first families, we hoped for everything to go well but planned for the worst adoption experience we could imagine. That meant once he was out of our arms at the birthing center we may never see nor hear from our son again. His name, even if he never knew what it was, was our last chance to give him a legacy. We chose names with meaning. We chose names that symbolized all we wanted for our son through out his life. He had names that wished him intelligence, power, triumph, and connection to a family history nearly as old as recorded language. We knew he may not ever learn these names. He may never discover that he was the last person from this family to bear my surname.<br />
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I'm glad I could give my son the symbol of our history as well as the symbols of all the things I want for him. I'm glad Athena gave him a symbol of his Chinese heritage and her whole hearted wish for personal power and strength of character. I'm glad Ms Scarlet and Prof Plum gave him his new name. I'm glad to know my son and I'm glad I could give him something truly timeless.<br />
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Do birthparents give a second thought to what they name their children?<br />
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Yes.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-17297271715676047882013-01-22T21:55:00.001-05:002013-01-22T21:55:39.303-05:00Coming up for AirSwearing under my breath I ran back to the apartment from the truck. I was already running late, but there weren't any better options. The present had slid off the seat and torn the wrapping paper. Certainly Festus wouldn't mind, but I would. I grabbed the tape from the dining room table, locked the door on my way out, and ran back to the truck. I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent a text informing Ms Scarlet that I would be late.<br />
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A little better than twenty minutes later I was standing on Ms Scarlet and Prof Plum's front porch. The wrapping paper had been easily repaired. Ms Scarlet greeted me with a hug. Instead of the usual upbeat greeting we normally exchange this one was tinged with concern.<br />
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"How are you doing?" she asked. The tone of her voice and non-verbal communication made it clear what she meant. It was the kind of inquiring you hear in a hospital waiting room. There's no condemnation, judgement, or expectation in it. Instead there was concern and love.<br />
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We quickly moved on to having our evening. Highlights included Festus trading off between chasing and being chased by every adult in the house. His refrain became "we should run as fast as we can". We continued to play and chat. Before dinner Festus opened his <a href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51Q496NCA7L.jpg">belated Christmas present</a>. It was a hit. As the evening wore on Festus was alternately sweet and surly. No one was particularly surprised by this and everyone handled it well. Despite his occasional surly grunting or silence, there was still an important development in my relationship with my son that night.<br />
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When we were playing he made an unusual choice in sentence construction that only a young child would think to do. He talked about being chased by "my mommy". He said he should be picked up by "my daddy". He laughed when proclaiming he was going to "get my *******". My name became a title. More importantly I became someone he chose to claim as his own. It was clear and distinct. He knows my name because he knows and wants me.<br />
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After Festus went to bed the real conversation began. I had sent Ms Scarlet and Prof Plum an e-mail explaining the barest facts of what had been going on in my life. Chief among those are the split with Athena and her desire to pull back from seeing Festus. This visit was the first time the three of us had seen each other since November. There was a lot of ground to cover. We glossed over the broader topics, which left time and energy for the real issues at hand - our relationships. We talked about my relationship with Athena, their relationship with her and her family, my relationship with her family, and how all of this related to the little boy who was asleep upstairs. Initially I was nervous. I didn't know what to expect which always puts me on edge. As the conversation deepened so did my comfort. When the conversation was wrapping up I realized how much I valued the two people I'd just spent my Sunday evening with.<br />
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Beyond my relationship with Festus I appreciate having Prof Plum and Ms Scarlet in my life. It's great to have a friendship with two people who are so, well, adult in their relationships. They're responsible, well adjusted, grounded individuals with good heads on their shoulders. It's strange to understand that I had to be reminded of that. They bring the qualities that make them good parents to their friendships and family relationships too. The reasons I felt they would be excellent parents for Festus are the same reasons I like to spend time with them.<br />
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I'm glad I was reminded that I don't visit just to see Festus. I visit to see my family members that live in that household, all three of them.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-18939824256599836572013-01-15T14:35:00.000-05:002013-01-15T14:35:23.868-05:00The Reduced VersionI've made several attempts to write about what has been going on in my life of late. I haven't been able to finish any of them. Frankly it's just too hard to get through everything in one go. Instead I'll lay out the bare facts here and now. I can then process each part as necessary in the coming days, weeks, and months.<br />
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Last week Athena ended our relationship. This came just a few weeks after she told me she wasn't sure if she wanted to have any further contact with our son. Needless to say both of these situations are very difficult for me to handle. Forewarning: please don't post any comments about Athena's short comings, perceived or otherwise.<br />
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I am still unemployed. This is the longest I have been without a job since I began working. In fact I have never been without work since I began working a steady job when I was 21.<br />
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I will visit Festus on the 20th. We haven't seen one another since November. It's difficult to imagine facing him now. I feel like I've failed him. There isn't much I can offer him or myself right now. I've been putting one foot in front of the other for so long that I must take it on faith that I have faith at all. In six short months my life has crumbled to pieces.<br />
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Athena and I had been together for nearly five years. Four of those we spent living together. I miss that time we spent together. Hopefully things will get better.<br />
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But to be honest, I'm sick to death of hope.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-48247712842813348812012-11-29T11:48:00.000-05:002012-11-29T11:52:07.302-05:00Social Workers Need Help TooA while ago I received an interesting e-mail. It was from a gent who was representing a graduate social work program at University of Southern California (USC). Here's what he had to say:<br />
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Father of Festus</span><br />
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I hope this message finds you well. My name is ******* **** and I work in Community Relations for MSW@USC, the web-based Master of Social Work program at the University Of Southern California. I was reading through your blog Statistically Impossible and found some great posts about your experiences with open adoption. We recently published an inforgraphic, "Adoption in America," and thought it would be a great fit for your site.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span>
<a href="http://msw.usc.edu/mswusc-blog/adoption-infographic/"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">http://msw.usc.edu/mswusc-blog/adoption-infographic/</span></a><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">The infographic highlights various details about the adoption process, including those involved; it also contains comparative adoption statistics from other countries around the world. In addition, the graphic provides resources for people hoping to adopt and/or social workers interested in pursuing a career in the field.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Given your connection with adoption, I thought that this infographic would resonate well with your audience and networks! If you'd like to share it on your website, please visit our blog or find the image directly, and also feel free to share this with your social networks via facebook and/or twitter.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">If you have any questions or feedback, please feel free to reach out to me, I'd really like to know what you think. I look forward to connecting in the future and sharing ideas.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Thanks,</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">****</span><br />
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I've removed his name in respect for his privacy. The infographic he referenced was this:<br />
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<a href="http://msw.usc.edu/wp-content/uploads/Adoption-Infographic-MSWatUSC.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyPecAjLcfUbUox5yRwyx6UqKnVXWj95JXWCDV04o20lrK_N-tB1KnraYurknuWWHcugwgtb2DnctwB759PpsEv1Pc_znbydnugHbzECsenC26WMdyttYGwlegPwCZRO232rhd4zTEI6Q/s1600/Infographic.jpg" /></a></div>
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I took a while to chew this over. There were a lot of things that bothered me. In fact I was troubled enough that I didn't consider responding for a couple months. I couldn't bring myself to offer a useful critique. After a while I realized that if I didn't reply my frustration was useless. The information presented would go unchallenged. Yet another opportunity for a first father to communicate directly with those who shape the adoption experience would be lost. I replied thus:<br />
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Hello ****,</span><br />
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I'm sorry it's taken me so long to reply to your e-mail regarding the infographic your department put together. Looking at the infographic I've noticed arena's in which the information appears either fuzzy (not specific enough to provide functional data) or is presented in a less than optimal fashion (word choice problems). I hope you'll forgive me for focusing on the negative aspects rather than providing positive reinforcement. The truth is there's a lot of good information here. But I don't want to keep you stuck reading this e-mail. all day. So, on with the feedback:</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">The infographic preamble is likely to cause some controversy. It is mentioned that adoptions have increased 15% since 1990. What is the cut off for the data? For the sake of clarity it would be good to see that data presented within a spread of a specific perio od time, for example "adoptions have increased 15% from 1990 to 2008". Similarly the discussion of providing children with "happy and safe homes" and "bring[ing] joy to those longing to raise a family" tips the hand to a decidedly positive spin on adoption. If the goal is to promote adoption this makes sense. If, on the other hand, the goal is to provide relevant data to interested parties, this indicates a lack of impartiality that may make the data suspect. There are plenty of people who write about adoption that would ignore this research as pro-adoption rhetoric based on this belief.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Terminology issue - referring to all children with non-traditional parent relationships as "orphans" is a significant problem. I don't know any adoptees who describe themselves using this term, and it has very negative connotations for any members of a first family. In general the term orphan specifically carries the connotation that a child is separated from their biological parents by death. I strongly urge that this term be replaced with something less emotionally charged.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">The preamble for "The Parents" again seems unnecessary and potentially inflammatory. It isn't really possible for an infographic to appropriately investigate the reasons people have for wanting to adopt children, just as it cannot thoroughly investigate the reasons parents have in placing children with adoptive families. It may be best to leave these attempts to explain motives out of the infographic.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">The breakdown of demographic data for adoptive parents is interesting and very clearly presented. I would, however, be very interested in seeing correlative data. What percentage of parents adopt due to infertility or same sex coupling? How do those demographics relate to choices between domestic and international adoption?</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">The information and resources at the bottom of the graphic are a nice way to wrap up the ideas presented. They do a good job of presenting the information without hitting emotionally charged trigger words.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Thanks for sending this along to me. I hope the feedback is useful. If there's anything you'd like to follow up on, or that I didn't present clearly, please contact me again. It's important to me that information like this, and communication about it, be as clear and deliberate as possible.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Cheers,</span><br />
<span style="color: #6aa84f;">I am</span><br />
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<br />
The data presented in that inforgraphic is potentially useful. Unfortunately it is filtered through inflammatory language and ideas about the adoption experience that are simply untrue. Future adoption professionals are being taught that it's okay to call everyone who was ever adopted an orphan. The graphic above was the work of a <i>graduate</i> department. This is coming from people who are a thesis away from entering the field. Bad social workers aren't born; they're taught. In order to change the opinions of adoption workers we must also change their education. For many that means educating them about our experiences. For some that means teaching their educators.<br />
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The quality of a person's education can dramatically alter their professional development. A high quality education (in this context, one that humanizes everyone touched by adoption) can also enhance personal development. Conversely a poor education does <i>not</i> degrade personal worth. Low quality education can be mitigated with high quality corrective experiences. It is the experience and education that need correction, not the person.<br />
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It is possible to confront an idea without confronting the person espousing it. The idea and the person are separate entities. For example, the infographic above presents ideas that are hurtful and ignorant. The people who put it together didn't intend to hurt anyone. They did a lot of work to pull together information and present it in the most useful way they could. Those efforts deserve affirmation. They also need redirection. A little more reflection on the humans represented in the pie charts may have resulted in something profoundly useful and respectful. It is not a character flaw that caused the students to take a misstep.<br />
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Even social workers make mistakes. They aren't bad people. They just need enough quality information to make better choices next time. That information has to come from people like us. If we don't tell them what's wrong, how systems fail us, what needs to change, and why it's important to respect <i>every </i>adoption experience, no one will.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-78555280625342913092012-11-17T14:21:00.001-05:002012-11-17T14:21:09.795-05:00God's Plan: Cold Comfort or Greater Purpose?Growing up I attended quite a few churches. My father being an appointed pastor accounted for three of them. My personal exploration accounted for the next seven. Spending that much time around churches and church people increases the likelihood of certain experiences. Being told that misfortune is "all part of God's plan" is one such experience.<br />
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There's another group of people that encounter this phrase more than most: anyone involved in an adoption. Couples struggling with infertility are often "consoled" this way. First families are told this to ease the pain and uncertainty of placing their children with couples they barely know. Adoptees often hear this to help erase the pain of their loss and difference. There is one significant problem with this.<br />
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It doesn't work at all. Though the intent is compassion, these words have none. They don't validate the person in pain. They don't even address presence of pain.<br />
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Instead these words serve a purpose entirely contrary to their common intent. They separate the supporter from the experience of the wounded. If pain is all "part of God's plan" the listener has no culpability in the situation. There is no risk for the onlooker because success is assured. If pain is part of the plan it takes on a moral quality. The pain becomes good pain. The pain is good because the person experiencing it is participating in "God's plan". The person has become a holy vessel. Holy vessels, uniformly, have been stripped of their humanity.<br />
<br />
If this is true, why on Earth does this phrase get so much use? Because it comforts the supporter, not the vulnerable. The person in hardship experiences good pain. If the pain is good, for the individual and the world, there is no need to alleviate it. The person who would normally be called to take action has been let of the hook. Situations that are intolerable to think of, let alone witness, are acceptable if they are calculated sacrifices made by a faultless entity.<br />
<br />
What happens to our attitudes if these sacrifices are not calculated losses outweighed by their benefit? Suddenly a person's pain is excruciating instead of purifying. A child placed for adoption is a desperate attempt to salvage some good from a terrible situation. Adoption is no longer a beautiful miracle. Unplanned pregnancies lose the glow of purpose. Suddenly rape is just rape and incest is shown fully as the horror it is <br />
<br />
"It's all part of God's plan" isn't comfort to those who need it. It's a "Get Out Of Jail Free" card for those called upon to <i>be </i>the comfort others need.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-80641679946848866072012-11-14T01:41:00.000-05:002013-01-16T15:59:16.023-05:00OAR Interview Project 2012: Meet Jenn<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.productionnotreproduction.com/p/open-adoption-bloggers-interview.html" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="Adoption Bloggers Interview Project
2012" border="0" src="http://openadoptionbloggers.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/abip-12.png" title="Adoption Bloggers Interview Project 2012" width="200" /></a></div>
Last year I had the opportunity to work with <a href="http://www.therhouse.com/mrs-r-and-the-r-house/">Mrs R</a>, an adoptive mother who writes at <a href="http://www.therhouse.com/">The R House</a>. It was a great chance for both of us to learn about perspectives and experiences wildly different than our own (the interviews can be found <a href="http://statisticallyimpossible.blogspot.com/2011/11/open-adoption-interview-project-2011.html">here</a> and <a href="http://www.therhouse.com/interview-with-a-birth-father/">here</a>). This year <a href="http://www.productionnotreproduction.com/2000/01/about-me.html">Heather</a> has done a great job yet again. I had the pleasure of getting to know Jenn, an adult adoptee. She is candid in her discussion of searching for her origins, making meaning of her experiences, and both the beauty and ugliness of adoption. She is very active in the online community, both on her <a href="http://insertbadmovietitlehere.wordpress.com/">blog</a> and as a regular contributor to <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/">Lost Daughters</a>.</div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #38761d;"><b>Please introduce yourself to readers who may not be familiar with your blog.</b></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For
starters, my name is Jenn. I’m twenty-five years old, and I was
adopted as an infant. When I was twenty-one, I started seriously
searching for my natural family members. Once I made up my mind to
really search, it took less than twenty-four hours to find my natural
parents thanks to the wonderful Internet. I reached out to my natural
mother and we started emailing back and forth. Just under a year later I
reached out to my natural father and started to get to know him.
I've since met both parents and my two sisters recently found out about
me. I’m currently getting to know the two of them and we’re all
learning how to fit into each other’s lives. I’m also living at home
with my adoptive parents and my adoptive sister, something that adds
other challenges to the mix as well.</div>
<div class="im">
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #38761d;"><b>What got you started blogging? What keeps you coming back? Is there a disparity there worth exploring?</b></span> </div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
I
started blogging after my reunion experience with my natural mother
feel apart. Things with my natural father were going wonderfully, but I
was in a rough place because I was trying to balance my fear and
excitement. It was a hard time for me and I looked online for support.
I’d been following several adoptees on their blogs for a few months and
figured that maybe it would help me to write about what I was going
through. I was never successful at journaling because there was no
accountability. By blogging, I felt as though I owed my readers a blog
post every day. I’m an all or nothing sort of girl so I just sort of
jumped in. I kept coming back because it helped. I could go back and
read what I was thinking and feeling and see the progress. My readers
give me valuable feedback and insights. I had the opportunity to meet
some of my readers which inspired me to keep going. I think I started
it for me, and while I still blog for me, it’s become something more at
this point.</div>
<div class="im">
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #38761d;"><b>You obviously read quite a few adoption blogs. Can you talk about
why you read the blogs you do (individual blogs and/or categories of
blogs)?</b></span></div>
</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The first few blogs that I started reading were
adoptee blogs. They were people who had been through something similar
and I devoured their stories. As much as it stunk that someone else had
gone through something so horrible, there was something comforting in
the fact that I wasn't alone. And I was able to hope when people wrote
about the good things. If they could be happy and functioning humans
after rejection, I could get there too someday. After I started
blogging, I had several natural mothers start commenting on my blog. I
wanted to get to know my readers better so I started reading their
blogs, which opened up a whole new category for me. I started to see
where my natural mother might be coming from. She may not feel the same
way as these women, but I started to see that there were shades of grey
from these amazing women. Last year during this interview project I
was paired up with an adoptive parent. I loved her story and her blog
and loved how she was doing her part to learn about what her daughter
might go through someday. So I now read several adoptive parent blogs,
especially the ones who focus on listening to adult adoptees and
constantly educate themselves on adoption related issues in case their
child ever experiences them.</div>
<div class="im">
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #38761d;"><b>Has blogging (as a writer or a reader) significantly affected
your thoughts/feelings on adoption in general, or your personal adoption
experience?</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My thoughts and feelings have shifted over
time. I’m much more educated now that I used to be. For example, I
never thought about the language that I use to describe adoption before.
I've since read several very well written blog posts about why certain
language is offensive and the history behind it. I've since altered my
language. I used to not see a problem with adoption. I
personally didn't have a problem obtaining a passport. Blogging as
taught me it’s a legitimate concern for other adoptees. I've learned
from them about problems that exist in the system. Before I started
blogging, I couldn't tell you what an original birth certificate was and
I had no idea mine was sealed. This past year I joined a demonstration
in the fight to open records. I've learned and grown as I've been
reading and blogging. My ideas have shifted and I've become more
comfortable with my stance. There will always be grey and I appreciate
it. But I've see firsthand some of the wrongs and I think that we owe
it to ourselves and future adoptees to find ways of fixing the system.
A good start to that would be opening records.</div>
<div class="im">
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #38761d;">You have described your adoption as being good but difficult. Can you expand on this apparent duality?</span></b> </div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
I
love my adoptive parents and my adoptive family. I had a fairly normal
childhood. I got a great education, found some amazing friends, and
have experienced some amazing things. I've met the most amazing guy in
the world I’m going to marry next year. I love who I am as a person and
I know that some of the great qualities I love about myself have come
from my adoptive parents since being in reunion. Being adopted has
always been a part of who I am and I do believe it’s helped to shape me
as a person. Growing up, I was more tolerant of other’s differences
because I didn't know what my own background was. I grew up in a
wealthy town but the reason I’d been given for my adoption was that my
natural mother was young and poor. It was hard for me to judge those
will less in my town because I came from a place that had decidedly
less. I think that way of growing up had its merits. On the other
hand, I wish I hadn't been adopted in an abstract way. I wish I had
grown up around people I looked like. I wish I had parents who said “I
was just like you at that age!” I wish my personality lined up more
with the people who raised me. I would have loved to grow up knowing
about my ethnic background and knowing my family history. A family
medical history would have drastically altered my childhood. That’s not
to say that I wish I’d grown up with my natural parents. Who knows
what my life would have been like if I’d been raised by them? It might
have been better, it might have been worse. It would have been a
different life. I’m sure if I was the girl I would have been if I’d
been raised by them, I’d say I couldn't imagine growing up any other
way. But I’m not that girl. I’m me, the person raised by my adoptive
family and the person who grew up with many missing puzzle pieces. So
while my life is actually good, I wish I hadn't had to face so many
challenges and go through pain in reunion in order to get to this
particular place.</div>
<div class="im">
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #38761d;">Is there anything you wish you could tell every adoptive parent?</span></b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Two
things. First, be honest and upfront from day one. Sometimes the
truth hurts. Sometimes the situation it really unpleasant. And I
understand 100% that you want to protect your children. But when we
don't know the truth, adoptees often fill in the blanks. If you asked
me what I thought of my natural parents when I was ten, I would have
told you they were probably crack heads or something. That's what I
thought because my adoptive parents never sat down and explained my
situation to me. My natural parents are actually upstanding members of
the community. They are both active in their church, raised two amazing
daughters, and are pretty neat people. My parents didn't know
everything, but they did know some things that would have helped. My
natural father was in the army. That single piece of knowledge would
have gone a long way while I was growing up. Second, listen. I didn't
tell my adoptive parents about what I was going through. I wanted to
protect them from my feelings because I didn't think I had a right to
feel the way that I did. Most of the time I was a happy go lucky kid,
but sometimes thoughts about those crack head parents I had invaded my
mind. Kids on the playground can be mean. So when I did actually talk
about things, I needed my adoptive parents to listen. For the most
part, they did, but I think that's something that every adoptive parent
has to work extra hard at. Even know when I'm in reunion, I need my
adoptive parents to listen to me and hear what I'm saying. When I tell
them that it's not about them, it's about me, I need them to hear it.
When I tell them that I need them to just let me vent about the
process, I need them to let me instead of trying to get me to see things
from the other side. So adoptive parents need to be honest with their
children from the beginning and to listen to what their children are
saying, even when they are adults.</div>
<div class="im">
<div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #38761d;">Is there anything you wish you could tell every first parent?</span></b></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
At
some point, my natural parents walked away. They may have had
excellent reasons for doing so. And my adoptee brain understands those
reasons. My adoptee brain was able to forgive my natural parents for
walking away a long time ago. I don't agree with all their reasons, but
I understand why they did it. The thing is, my adoptee heart still
feels like they walked away and that hurts. No matter how good the
reasons were, my adoptee heart still hurts from time to time. Sometimes
I get mad about it. Sometimes I need space to get over it. None of
these things have anything to do with the actual reasons themselves. So
when these times roll around (and I think they do for a lot of
adoptees), I know that for me, I just need a little understanding. I
need my natural parents to not get defensive and understand that no
matter what, my adoptee heart is still going to feel that way. In fact,
what I want to hear is that they are sorry for doing that to me and
that they love me. My heart needs to feel like they aren't going to
walk away from me again. And my heart needs to hear it over and over
again. I wish my brain and my heart could get on the same page, but
they can't. And I've heard a lot of adoptees say this same thing. So
understand that sometimes your adopted child may lash out or feel hurt
about things. Its a side affect. He or she probably wishes that they
could control it, but they probably can't. And what they need most is
reassurance, love, and understanding.</div>
<div class="im">
<div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #38761d;">Is there anything you wish you could tell every adoptee?</span></b></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We
all feel differently. And that's OK. One person's feelings or
experiences cannot take away from another. So if someone is happy to be
adopted, then that's fantastic for them. If someone is unhappy to be
adopted, then that's valid too. Just because one person is happy
doesn't make everyone happy, and just because one person is sad doesn't
make everyone sad. I think that we all need that reminder sometimes,
especially when blogging. One adoptees truth is not everyone's truth.
We all are individuals and need to be respected as such.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #38761d;">Are there any specific examples of the support adoptees may need
that differs from others (while growing up or as adults)? Are there any
specific examples of ways in which the support adoptees need is the
same as others (while growing up or as adults)?</span></b></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Adoptees are people too! We need support just like
everyone else for life's challenges. If I go through a bad breakup, I
need love and support just like my non-adopted friend does. I will
probably process my breakup differently (for myself, it would probably
trigger abandonment issues) but I still need someone there who's willing
to listen and hold my hand. I still need a shoulder to cry on when I
loose someone I love, the same as anyone else. I still want to
celebrate when I get a promotion (for me it might feel extra special
because I've always felt like I have something to prove), and I still
want to go to the bar and have a celebratory drink, the same as any of
my friends. There are small difference in my experience but then
again, my friends all have their own motivations as well. For all I
know, perhaps a friend had a traumatizing experience involving a corpse
when he was a child (it could happen) so death triggers him differently.
Perhaps a friend miscarried a child and thus her breakup with the
father is a lot harder to process. We all have various things that
separate us as adults (and children too) but we somehow manage to get
along. I think that listening is key, being supportive, and learning
that while we can't fully understand, we can still be there for each
other.</div>
<div class="im">
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #38761d;">In many adoptee blogs and forums, a common theme encountered is
"difference". It is often describing how the adoptee experience is
"different" and how "no one can understand" the experience who is not an
adoptee. As someone who is not an adoptee, this theme appears to
strengthen alienation by association. Can you talk a little about your
experience with alienation, difference, and community?</span></b> </div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
I think part of this problem (and yes, it's a problem) is that
there really is a difference there. I was cut off from my family
completely and totally. The closed adoption system made sure I had no
contact with anyone I was genetically related to growing up. I never
heard "You look just like Aunt Suzie at that age!", "You've got Uncle
Fred's eyes", or "I was just like you when I was young! I guess this is
payback..." My relatives still said things like that, just about other
people. I always felt like I was on the outside looking in with my
face pressed up against the glass. I got strange looks in public.
People commented from time to time. And people always looked for
similarities that weren't there when they were introduced to my sister
and me. I learned that those things were important with how hard people
would try to find similar. Apparently we have the same facial
structure (we don't really). I've heard that at least ten times. The
thing is, we saw other people who weren't adopted. I could see that my
best friend looked a lot like her mom and her brother. I saw that my
cousins all laughed the same way as my mom. And I grew up feeling
different. So that difference is there, and it's something that a lot
of us have been aware of since we were small children (noting here that
not everyone has this experience and some children were matched with
families they would probably grow to look like). I've seen instances
online where some people (a small number) have tried to tell adoptees
that we aren't really different. I've seen people try to minimize that
difference and act like it doesn't matter. Only it does. And that's
when I've noticed adoptees getting defensive. It's also hard to
understand something that you haven't been through. It's not individual
to our community by any means. I identify as a white straight female.
I will never understand what it's like to be a Native American lesbian.
I can listen to her story. I can sympathize, but not empathize. I
think it's a glaring problem with our community because adoptees aren't
supposed to be different (at least when I was born) and being adopted
wasn't supposed to be different from being raised in the family you were
born too. So people don't understand this difference and try to
explain it in other ways instead of accepting that we can't fully know
the other's experiences from their point of view and work on the
sympathy side of things. Instead of finger pointing or having an "us vs
them" attitude, I think as a community we need to embrace the
differences and move forward together. Then again what do I know?</div>
<div class="im">
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #38761d;">Can you talk about the commonalities and differences of
experience between adoptees and non-adoptees entering adulthood and
struggling to establish a sense of "self"?</span></b></div>
</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well,
I was adopted as an infant, so I don't really have a point of reference
for the non-adopted. I do know lots of non-adopted people so I guess I
could take a stab at it. I think that in general, our sense of self
comes from our history, and our experiences I'm a firm believer that
you have to know the past going into the future. History has a tendency
to repeat itself, and I think that we can learn a lot from mistakes and
successes in the past. For adoptees (closed adoptions), we don't
usually know our past. It's hard to move forward when you don't know
where you come from. History is important. At the same time, I know
that I grew into my sense of self based on a number of experiences I
had. Being adopted had nothing to do with my love for dance and the
experiences and lessons I learned from that. I have friends who
identified as dancers as well, and most were not adopted. So in that
sense, there are commonalities. On the other hand, I have friends who
used to brag about having ancestors who came over on the Mayflower.
That was a huge part of their "self" and that piece of history was
important to them. It was a part of their truth and personal identity.
I didn't have that. I had to fill in the blanks or take guesses, but
there were a lot of question marks for me. So in that sense, we're
different. As I learn my history, I can feel my view of myself change
slowly as it becomes more complete with less missing pieces. It's an
odd thing to happen as an adult, but now I know that I had ancestors in
the US before the Revolutionary War too. I have my family tree traced
back to the 1400's on one branch. So I guess now I'm trying to find a
way to catch up with everyone else!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;">Thank you again to <a href="http://insertbadmovietitlehere.wordpress.com/">Jenn</a> for your honesty and patience, to <a href="http://www.productionnotreproduction.com/">Heather</a> for all your hard work, and to all the <a href="http://www.productionnotreproduction.com/2012/11/adoption-blogger-interview-project.html">Interview Project</a> participants for your courage. Jen's interview with me is <a href="http://insertbadmovietitlehere.wordpress.com/2012/11/14/interview-project-2012/">here</a>. Be sure to check out the <a href="http://openadoptionbloggers.com/">Open Adoption Bloggers</a> page for more exciting projects in the future as well as the exhaustive <a href="http://openadoptionbloggers.com/open-adoption-blogs/">blog roll</a> for more perspectives to read.</span></div>
I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-46407557307952224872012-11-08T12:47:00.000-05:002012-11-08T12:47:30.168-05:00Are You F___ing Serious?!There are several things in the works at the moment that I'm looking forward to posting. Unfortunately, all of those require more polish and editing before they're fit for public consumption. Despite this, I feel the need to share something.<br />
<br />
While poking around online, Google Adsense has shown that it's finally started tracking my online behavior. So now I'm seeing ads for adoption agencies. This is an indication that I need to review my privacy controls and settings. But more importantly, I saw an advertisement today that I find profoundly disturbing.<br />
<br />
The phrase highlighted was "you don't have to be perfect to be a perfect parent". For the moment I'm going to ignore the issues I might take with this catch phrase and how poorly it conveys its intended message. What is important, however, was the associated image. It was a screen capture from <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1462769/"><i>The Odd Life of Timothy Green</i></a>.The website, AdoptUSKids.org is using pop culture references in an attempt to make adoption more accessible. That makes sense and has been put to good use in many efforts to normalize ideas mass media isn't ready to embrace. It still sickens me a bit, but at least I understand it. The problem I have with this is the pop culture material being referenced.<br />
<br />
If adoption professionals are going to use pop culture to approach people online about accepting adoption, <i>maybe </i>they should consider using material <i>that accepts adoption</i>. I'm not going to rehash the <a href="http://statisticallyimpossible.blogspot.com/2012/09/the-odd-life-of-timothy-green-film.html">review of the film</a> I did in August. It's not worth your time and it certainly doesn't deserve that much space in anyone's brain. But I can't help but wonder what the hell these people are thinking emblazoning on their advertisements images from a film that encourages emotionally damaging ideas about adoption. The only conclusion I can come up with is the person who thought up this ad campaign either never saw the movie, shouldn't be working in the adoption industry, or has firmly lodged their cranium into one of their own orifices.<br />
<br />
Thank you for putting up with this rant. I hope you have a pleasant day.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-18813868570802162372012-10-05T12:28:00.000-04:002012-10-05T12:28:29.419-04:00Hard as Hell: The New NormalI've been tight lipped about a lot of changes that have been going on in my life of late. One reason is that I needed the chance to tell all the people in my life about what is going on in person. It's rather rude for family members to learn about momentous changes in one's life through a blog entry. The second reason is that it is more comfortable to talk about abstract concepts than the difficult, sometimes brutal, circumstances faced in daily life. Finally, I really hate complaining about my life. I feel it makes me sound whiny and potentially self centered. After all, how bad do I really have it? I have food to eat. That counts as victory.<br />
<br />
The truth of the matter is my life has been quite stressful lately and there's a reason I don't like talking about it here. I've fallen prey to self censorship. I don't want to talk about my life stress. It is uncomfortable to face and to admit to others. The real bear of it is the sense I must represent all birthfathers. I must be successful to prove that birthfathers can be successful. I should be emotionally/relationally well balanced to show that birthfathers can be so.<br />
<br />
Related to those misplaced feelings of responsibility is my embarrassment. You see, Prof Plum and Ms Scarlet poke through the blog from time to time. I've been doing my best to put on the brave face around them. I <i>really</i> don't want them to think I'm some sort of unstable screw up. Their opinions matter to me, and our relationship is important to me. I have been keeping things under wraps with the classic "things are a little tough but we're okay" explanations. We will be okay, but that isn't why I'm brushing aside others' concern for Athena and me. I don't want to need others' support, and I particularly don't want to lean on Ms Scarlet and Prof Plum for support. I wish I could tell you why. I honestly don't know. Though I do have a couple theories.<br />
<br />
I've encountered people who have felt the birth family of their child took advantage of the open adoption relationship. In a very concrete and obvious manner most adoptive families have more resources available than first families do. That holds true in our situation as well. I don't want there to be any question in anyone's mind about our relationship being built on respect. I loath the idea of that respect being tarnished by a one sided need for support. Said out loud this idea sounds a little ridiculous. After all a relationship based on respect doesn't require that everyone be an island with no needs nor expectations. But that doesn't change the traction this idea has in my head.<br />
<br />
There's a lot of pressure as an involved birth parent to live a spotless life after the placement of your child. A desire to prove worthy of a relationship with your kid takes hold and is very difficult to shake. It's as though I must prove that I would be a fit parent to my son and be able to provide the stable and respectable life that would make an adoption entirely unnecessary. This pressure is mostly self imposed, but there are some practical realities that reinforce the message.<br />
<br />
Since open adoption agreements aren't legally enforceable <span style="color: #38761d;">(anywhere, to the best of my knowledge)</span> the first family has to be sound enough to ensure further contact with the adoptive family. In short, if I'm too needy, my life too unstable, or my presence vicariously too stressful, the relationship can end with no notice. If the difficulties of my daily life are too unpleasant to think about, I may never see my son again. Again this sounds ridiculous when said aloud, especially in the context of my relationship with Festus' parents. But I can't shake the idea, in part because I know it has happened. I've had contact with several first parents who have been denied relationships with their children. The apparent cause was the convenience of the adoptive family. I wasn't there personally. I don't know the totality of those experience and relationships. But in the murky world of private adoption I would be surprised if birth parents <i>weren't</i> pushed aside because their lives made the adoptive family uncomfortable.<br />
<br />
It is with all this weighing on my mind that I tell people "I'll be okay". But I am not okay right now. I quit my job at the university because I could no longer keep up physically, and I was tired of my boss throwing me under the bus every chance he got. Bald faced lies at my last performance review were the writing on the wall for me. I don't like day dreaming about meeting people in parking lots with framing hammers, and that's exactly what that job did to me. My "rocky-but-sustainable" transition from that job to freelance work and diversified income has been a rude awakening. With a gross income for the month of September of $0, I must also leave my apartment. Athena and I will not be able to live together for a while. I feel as though I've been free falling for a few months. Watching my savings disappear, closing bank accounts, I've tried selling some possessions to buy groceries. I'll be moving into my parent's home, but I don't know if I can afford the rent they will charge me either. <i>Any </i>rent is steep without a job. But I keep telling people I'll be okay. If I say it enough maybe I will be. It's more a prayer than something I believe.<br />
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So there you have it. Prof Plum, Ms Scarlet, I'm sorry I haven't been more honest with you. It's just been a tough couple of months.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-43694039294388216542012-09-26T10:34:00.000-04:002012-09-26T10:34:26.615-04:00The Odd Life Of Timothy Green - A Film ReviewTypically a character named in the title of a movie is the main point of interest. Sometimes the character is talked about more than they are seen <span style="color: #6aa84f;">(as in <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120815/">Saving Private Ryan</a>)</span>. But most of the time a film named for a character will be about that character <span style="color: #6aa84f;">(such as <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0109830/">Forest Gump</a> or <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0134119/">The Talented Mr. Ripley</a>)</span>. This is not the case in <i>The Odd Life Of Timothy Green</i>.<br />
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A more honest title may have been "The Odd Life Of Timothy <a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/macguffin?s=t">MacGuffin</a>". Timothy is not the main character of the film, and in truth is barely addressed as being a person. When the character shows up he is fully self actualized. Timothy has no needs at all. As a result Timothy, as a character, is utterly static. He displays no growth, nor even hardship, throughout the film. This means his parents are never called on to support him in any way. Instead, Timothy supports <i>his parents</i> as they grapple with changes in their lives brought on by Timothy's presence. In a disturbing turn, one of the hardest adaptations his parents make is living with a shred of integrity. Every scene throughout the film in which his parents appear to provide emotional support for Timothy, the motivation appears to be embarrassment rather than concern for his emotional well being.<br />
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Rather than discussing the experience a family goes through in developing bonds or experiencing estrangement as a result of adoption, TOLOTG <span style="color: #6aa84f;">(<i>The Odd Life of Timothy Green</i>)</span> is the navel gazing adventure of hopeful parents obsessed with familial obligation. More screen time is given to Jim and Cindy Green interacting with their biological family members than with their son. The implication is, the way Timothy affects his parents existing relationships, is more important than his relationship with them. In effect, the story is about how neat it would be to become a parent, not about parenting. In fact the parents never really discussed why they want to be parents in the first place. The film assumes everyone knows why it is important to have children. For some people it may be troubling to think this idea needs defense. But the truth is the miraculously convenient events of this story do demand more justification than "it's the next thing to do" or "everyone wants kids". One evening Jim and Cindy Green are trying to mourn their chance to have a child biologically, and the next they are acclimating to having their own child <span style="color: #38761d;">(SPOILER) in the middle of a family reunion (CLOSE SPOILER)</span>. The transition from one experience to the other involves bewilderment, then total acceptance. There are no tears or frustration. They don't skip a beat. Frankly there is no emotional honesty at all.<br />
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That's the real achilles heal to the story of TOLOTG. There is no emotional honesty or depth at any point. The closest it gets is when we see Timothy's friend cry in the last quarter of the film. The children are the only people who show any honesty throughout this movie, only with one another, and it only happens a handful of times. Jim and Cindy Green weren't represented even vaguely accurately as humans. Their decisions and mistakes never had any significant impact on their lives. <span style="color: #38761d;">(SPOILER) At one point Cindy loses her job, because Timothy inspired her to actually be honest. This affects one line of the script. Jim responds saying "thing's will be tight but we'll be alright". It's never mentioned again. Shortly thereafter Jim is given responsibility for laying off several of his coworkers. This puts him in a bad mood for exactly six seconds of screen time (CLOSE SPOILER)</span>. So Jim's in a terrible mood, but it's fixed when Cindy and Timothy decide to follow Jim into the living room with dinner. They have a candle-lit picnic dinner inside, which everyone loves.<br />
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Throughout the course of the picnic dinner, Timothy does little else than stare adoringly at his parents. The exception to this is when he, yet again, solves his parents' problems for them. That highlights the second fatal flaw of this movie; all the children represented have reversed relationships with their parents. Each child with a significant role <span style="color: #6aa84f;">(both of them)</span> are self actualized, confident, unflappable individuals. The parents spend their time bouncing off these monolithic children until they learn the lesson in that scene. Then everyone moves on to the next scene and the next lesson. Throughout this process none of the children show any growth or development. In fact I'd go so far as to say they show no memory either. This isn't just poor writing, this is dangerous.<br />
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Showcasing children without needs, with mountain-like emotional stability, and total self knowledge in a theoretically child centered movie is damaging. It shames the children in the audience for having needs. The children on the screen are perfect, so the children in the audience are pressured to be the same. The children on the screen make no mistakes, and therefore the viewer is called to the same standard. It's important to remember that the genre of "Family Films" functions to instruct us what the modern family is supposed to be like. These are didactic movies. As such I feel it is damaging, even damning, to expect children to identify with the most alien of experiences presented to them; perfection and isolation.<br />
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Timothy doesn't appear to be isolated, but he is. He has one friend who is emotionally affected by him. In his parents lives he is a lifestyle prop. Timothy is the means to the end. <span style="color: #38761d;">(SPOILER) This is rather openly displayed when Timothy disappears, yet the viewer never sees his parents mourn. Instead we get to see how happy his parents are when his replacement is delivered. The little girl of Asian descent, who also speaks perfect English, is delivered to their front door <i>literally</i> without any baggage (CLOSE SPOILER)</span>. The child has no roots, no baggage, and no past. There are no ethical quandaries about adoption because the children have no origin. The children literally come from no where and are delivered like a pizza.<br />
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There are a lot of things that could have been incorporated into this story to spur honest conversation about adoption. Imagine if Timothy had a learning disability, or heaven forbid a physical abnormality that actually affected how he functioned. He would have had unavoidable needs that could only be attended to properly by his caregivers. Things get even more interesting if Timothy were raised in a poor neighborhood in a city. But I think the real elephant in the room is this; what if Timothy were ethnically or culturally different than his parents? The truth is a Disney film couldn't survive the possibility of Timothy being black, let alone admitting to the serious problems of fraud, theft, and human trafficking in international adoptions. But worst of all, the idea of adopting a healthy child from people in the same town can't even be considered. Domestic adoption is hinted at by the clear English spoken by the little girl at the end of the film, yet the combination of her name and the casting choice is clearly intended to bring international adoption to mind. I think the real purpose for the girl speaking English without difficulty is to underline the idea that this adoption incurs no difficulties at all.<br />
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Much like <i>Juno</i>, <i>The Odd Life Of Timothy Green</i> is a film about people who aren't affected by anything that happens around, or even directly to, them. The overall message is like cotton balls soaked in anti-freeze; it is light, fluffy, sickly sweet, and toxic. The dad only has dad quality problems <span style="color: #6aa84f;">(mad at his dad, trouble at work)</span>, the mom has mom quality problems <span style="color: #6aa84f;">(pressure of familial obligation, over identification with child's embarrassment, can't "love" boss at work)</span> and the children have no problems of any consequence (the deep dark secret of the friend is, <span style="color: #38761d;">SPOILER, a birthmark CLOSE SPOILER</span>). I expected to be violently angry after watching this film. Instead I felt scummy and mildly nauseous.<br />
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But this begs the question - why did I even see this movie if I expected to hate it so much? I readily admit that I'm giving this movie more publicity by discussing it at all, and I'd much rather see it disappear entirely. My concern is with the number of positive reviews I've seen for the movie by writers who care about adoption. In the effort to attain public acceptance, I'm afraid some people are ready to latch on to any kind of acceptance. <i>The Odd Life Of Timothy Green</i> claimed to be a movie about adoption. But the kind of adoption it avoids talking about, for one hour and forty five minutes, is a terrible one. It's the kind of adoption that ruins lives and keeps children from their past. It ignores the experiences of both adoptees and first parents. Instead of representing the experience of prospective adoptive parents, the focus is solely Jim and Cindy's comfort. As it relates to adoption this movie is horrible and somewhat insidious. If we try to relate it to foster care, this movie is fucking evil.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-56176487693942340782012-09-01T16:02:00.001-04:002012-09-01T16:02:44.698-04:00Trying to be Human 101: Passivity in Sacrifice<span style="color: #6aa84f;">Trying to be Human 101 digs into human experience and how it effects adoption. Previously I discussed the nature of </span><a href="http://statisticallyimpossible.blogspot.com/2011/11/trying-to-be-human-101-dignity.html" style="color: #6aa84f;">dignity</a><span style="color: #6aa84f;"> and provided an excerpt from Jim Gritter's </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lifegivers-Framing-Birthparent-Experience-Adoption/dp/087868770X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1340543851&sr=8-1&keywords=life+givers" style="color: #6aa84f;">Life Givers</a><span style="color: #6aa84f;">. This is the second of several posts within the Trying to be Human 101 series discussing sacrifice.</span> <br />
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Sacrifice is a transaction. Typically there is social contract that accompanies sacrifices. When one makes a sacrifice, the belief is the loss will allow that need to be addressed appropriately. An example of this might be a person who takes an additional shift at work, sacrificing time with loved ones, to make more money for living expenses. Because choice is involved the sacrificer can bring their personal power to bear in the situation, thus giving them a sense of control. The weight of the sacrifice can be compared to the need calling for it. Judgement can be made including rational and emotional experiences and a choice is made. But what happens when the tables turn? What if the choice to make a sacrifice is illusory? All too often a sacrifice is made but the perceived contract is not fulfilled. Instead the sacrificer, upon losing their prized subject (be it a relationship, item, situation, or idea), feels powerless and no closer to fulfilling the need that drove the sacrifice in the first place. This experience is all too common in adoption.<br />
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I believe this sudden shift of experience is symptomatic of a disturbing reality; birthparents are sacrificed in adoption. This is not always true, but it happens with troubling frequency. The relationship between sacrificer and sacrificed can be subtle and murky, especially when the sacrifices are relationships. Other times it is blatant, as with most international adoptions. The birthparent, rather than making a sacrifice on behalf of their child, is sacrificed. The reason for the sacrifice varies. Sometimes the parent is sacrificed in order to fulfill the adoptive families need for a child to parent. Often the birthfamily is sacrificed in far subtler ways.<br />
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A birthparent is most often sacrificed on the alter of social expectation. The birthparent becomes the sacrifice necessary to blot out the apparent sin of conceiving a child in less than ideal circumstances. This ties in directly with the <a href="http://statisticallyimpossible.blogspot.com/2011/11/trying-to-be-human-101-assigned-reading.html">Splendid Doormat</a>. In order to attain social acceptability the first family must sacrifice all claim, personal rights, worth, and dignity in order to achieve a semi-saint status. Once sainted the first family can then, and only then, be considered redeemed from the disgrace of adoption.<br />
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This may seem a little far fetched or that I'm dramatizing the point. In reality I'm soft-pedaling this one. A bit of study in art history and especially in film history shows how prevalent these themes are. The hoops for redemption must be jumped through and none of them can be skipped or exchanged. Breaking social <a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/mores?s=t">mores</a> requires drastic action for redemption, if one can be redeemed at all.<br />
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In the case of adoption the process of sacrifice can be either; humbling but important, or destructive and horrible. The way we describe the key difference in English is with voice. In active voice, "I sacrifice", I am making choices and am directly involved in the path of that sacrifice. Though I make a sacrifice I still have some degree of control. In passive voice, "I am sacrificed", I have no say. I have lost the ability to apply my will to the process. Instead I become an element of sacrifice, not an active participant. In adoptions it is extremely dangerous to alloy anyone to sacrifice anyone else. To do so is to strip a person of their humanity. To be sacrificed is to be told one has no say in their future, no right to express personal needs, and no expectation these experiences will change. This might sound familiar.<br />
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Even in adoptions where all the adults respect one another and behave with emotional/relational integrity, the <i>adoptee</i> may still feel they have been sacrificed. Obviously no one wants this to be the case. An overwhelming majority of parents want their children to feel loved. This means sacrifices are made on their behalf, but they are not sacrificed themselves. Unfortunately, in adoption, no one can predict how the adoptee will feel about his/her circumstances.<br />
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I believe, despite the best of intentions, if an adoptee feels s/he has been sacrificed in their adoption, they have. No one has the right to say otherwise. Parents, where ever they fall on the biology/care continuum, may feel they have done everything right and have nothing to apologize for. But the best intentions cannot countermand the emotional reality of a child. If the adoptee feels s/he was sacrificed it's true. The only thing for a parent to do is face that reality head on and try to pick up the pieces.<br />
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When all goes well no one is sacrificed. Instead everyone in the adoption will make sacrifices to support one another. With this mutual support everyone's needs and experiences are respected.<br />
I wish everyone in adoption had this experience. But when it does go wrong, as it can so quickly, telling a person her/his emotional experience is "wrong" only deepens the depersonalization. It is not possible to undo mistakes, but some can be avoided through careful attention. In adoption applying our integrity and compassion to our decisions will help avoid most of these problems. With that in mind it's possible to make an adoption something that really is beautiful. That happens when the sacrifices made are respected and celebrated for being exactly what they are.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-58176714510433643302012-07-15T12:30:00.001-04:002012-07-15T12:30:49.549-04:00Trying to be Human 101: The Nature of Sacrifice<div style="color: #6aa84f; text-align: justify;">
Trying to be Human 101 digs into human experience and how it effects adoption. Previously I discussed the nature of <a href="http://statisticallyimpossible.blogspot.com/2011/11/trying-to-be-human-101-dignity.html">dignity</a> and provided an excerpt from Jim Gritter's <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lifegivers-Framing-Birthparent-Experience-Adoption/dp/087868770X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1340543851&sr=8-1&keywords=life+givers">Life Givers</a>. This is the first of several posts within the Trying to be Human 101 series.</div>
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Sacrifice is a strange concept. It is comforting to know that sacrifices are made but we don't want to get very near it. Comfort increases with distance from the individuals making sacrifices. When discussing adoption it is common to acknowledge that first families are making sacrifices. The impact those sacrifices have on adoptees is sometimes respected, but often ignored. The nature of sacrifice is left largely unexplored. If it is thought of frequently, or with depth, it is conjured into existence. Personally confronting sacrifice is an overwhelming experience. We often seek refuge by distancing ourselves from those making the sacrifices that frighten us. <br />
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It's important to understand why sacrifice is so uncomfortable. Discussing sacrifice highlights our position relative to the person making the sacrifice. There are a few different roads this can take, but most of them lead to a disconcerting feeling of selfishness or powerlessness. When discussing sacrifices made by others we often feel selfish. Mother Teresa is a good example of this experience. Compared to her work most people feel rather sheepish about their own charitable work or giving. Despite this there is also a little kick of satisfaction when an element in our own experience is common to the saintly person. Unfortunately that satisfaction only works when there is a corollary between those experiences. If Mother Teresa cared for the sick and I volunteer to help the homeless, I can share in the good of her deeds. However, if I don't do any charitable work at all the gravity of Mother Teresa's sacrifice functions as a source of guilt. On the other hand the feeling of powerlessness comes when we identify too closely with the person forced to make a sacrifice. It's very uncomfortable to know that some people are <i>forced</i> to make sacrifices against their will. It may be circumstances beyond their control or direct coercion. In either case, identifying with people in these circumstances highlights lack of control in our own circumstances, and thus the possibility of being forced to make significant sacrifices ourselves.<br />
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That's why the idea of the <a href="http://statisticallyimpossible.blogspot.com/2011/11/trying-to-be-human-101-assigned-reading.html">Splendid Doormat</a> is so appealing. The doormat who asks nothing, who needs nothing, becomes alien. We don't identify with them because they are "so strong" or "so brave" that we strip them of their humanity and their frailty. These super-sacrifices cannot be hurt the way we can. Sacrifices we can't imagine occur daily for these saints. So we don't need to reconcile our experiences with these people. We never confront the idea that these people are <i>just like us</i>.<br />
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Because of this we can't unpack the idea of sacrifice without personal risk. We needn't make a personal sacrifice to begin the discussion. Beginning the discussion <i>is</i> a sacrifice of personal security. This discussion can start if we believe the risk is for something worthwhile. That is, after all, the fundamental nature of sacrifices. Dictionary.com provides several definitions that work well to kick off the conversation:<br />
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<div class="header">
<h2 class="me" style="color: #6aa84f;">
sac·ri·fice</h2>
<span class="pronset"><span class="speaker"></span> <span class="show_spellpr" style="color: #38761d; display: inline;"><span class="prondelim">[</span><span class="pron"><span class="boldface">sak</span>-r<span class="ital-inline">uh</span>-fahys</span><span class="prondelim">]</span> <span class="pron_toggle" style="display: inline;"><a alt="Toggle for IPA" class="pronlink" href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=9171749502502490378" title="Click to show IPA">Show IPA</a> </span></span></span><span class="pg" style="color: #38761d;"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">noun,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">verb,</span> </span></span><span class="secondary-bf" style="color: #38761d;"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">sac·ri·ficed,</span> </span><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">sac·ri·fic·ing.</span> </span></span> </div>
<span class="pg" style="color: #38761d;"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">noun</span> </span></span><br />
<div class="luna-Ent" style="color: #38761d;">
<span class="dnindex"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">1.</span></span></span><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;"> the</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">offering</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">animal,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">plant,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">human</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">life</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">some</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">material</span> </span>possession <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">to</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">a</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">deity,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">as</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">in</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">propitiation</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">homage.</span><br />
<div class="dndata">
<span id="hotword"> </span></div>
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<div class="luna-Ent" style="color: #38761d;">
<span class="dnindex"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">2.</span></span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;"> the</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">person,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">animal,</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">thing</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">so</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">offered.</span><br />
<div class="dndata">
<span id="hotword"> </span></div>
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<div class="luna-Ent" style="color: #38761d;">
<span class="dnindex"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">3.</span></span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;"> the</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">surrender</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">destruction</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">something</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">prized</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">desirable</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">for</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">the</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">sake</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">of</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">something</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">considered</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">as</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">having</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">a</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">higher</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">or</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword">more</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">pressing</span> <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;">claim.</span><br />
<div class="dndata">
<span id="hotword"> </span></div>
</div>
<div class="luna-Ent">
<span class="dnindex" style="color: #38761d;"><span id="hotword"><span id="hotword" name="hotword">4.</span></span></span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #38761d;"> the</span><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #38761d;">thing</span><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #38761d;">so</span><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #38761d;">surrendered</span><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #38761d;">or</span><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="color: #38761d; cursor: default;">devoted.</span><br />
<div class="dndata">
<span id="hotword"> </span></div>
</div>
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Right there in #3 we see it. The destruction of something prized for the sake of something with a more pressing claim. Applied to adoption this paints a very stark picture of what's going on for a first family. There's no sugar coating here. Something prized is being destroyed forever. Worth never enters this conversation. This is about needs, not wants or relative values. This is an experience most sane individuals don't want to get near. <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lifegivers-Framing-Birthparent-Experience-Adoption/dp/087868770X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1341345392&sr=8-1&keywords=life+givers">Jim Gritter</a> covers circumstances of necessity well enough I won't go over it again here. But there's something else in the definition of sacrifice that muddies the waters.<br />
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Right at the top, in definition #1, "as in propitiation or homage". There is a power dynamic in sacrifice that can place the sacrificer <i>below</i> the recipient. The feeling that a birth family must <a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/propitiate">propitiate</a> or appease a person or group in power is dangerous but common. This illustrates another reason sacrifice is a taboo subject; social dominance and power structure is not discussed in polite society. Since sacrifice carries with it an implied subservience, anyone connected to it is in danger of moving down the social ladder. More importantly, discussing socially and economically enforced power schema is taboo in most societies today. But perhaps most nefarious of all, if a first parent must appease someone, that implies they have done something <i>wrong</i>. This reinforces the idea that it's acceptable to receive a child, but unacceptable to place one for adoption. That means the adoptive parents are morally superior to the birth family. In this case sacrifice carries the stigma of moral degeneracy. <br />
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Sacrifice is fundamentally overwhelming. Confronting personal sacrifice is incredibly difficult. Surprisingly, the difficulty is not in overcoming our own discomfort or pain. The hardest part of making a sacrifice is encountering its global experience. The commonality of sacrifice is only overshadowed by its necessity. Because sacrifice is born of need it shows us our powerlessness. The pervasiveness of sacrifice is a reminder that we cannot control our own lives. Each instance of making a sacrifice is a discrete reminder of that constant and difficult truth.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-86534694789199685022012-07-06T11:19:00.000-04:002012-07-06T11:19:03.680-04:00Yay or NaySeveral people have asked me whether I am pro or anti adoption. Before discussing my feelings, let's look at the politicking behind these terms. <span style="color: #6aa84f;">(This is a rough, "party line" style review, not a case study. Please understand the statements that follow are generalizations. Your experience may differ)</span><br />
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To be "Pro-Adoption" means adoptions are useful, necessary, and ultimately beautiful. They allow the creation of families that would otherwise not exist. This stance means supporting networks that help place children in strong families that can properly care for them. This view is realistic in its acceptance of "circumstances of necessity" in which parents cannot raise their children.<br />
<br />
Being "Pro-Adoption" also tends to belittle the horrendous experiences of the first family and the adoptee. It ignores the fact that adoptions can only begin with incredible pain, and many leave significant baggage for the child to deal with later. Being blindly "Pro-Adoption", only seeing the beautiful, wonderful, miracle of adoption not only ignores, but in fact condemns, anyone who speaks the truth of their painful experience. It also undermines our appreciation of families <i>without </i>children. Many people who choose to adopt describe a deep need to parent. Some, however, talk about how much they "want a family". This ignores that most of these people <i>already are a family</i>. The difference is raising children. I'm not coming down on hopeful adoptive parents. But I am highlighting a big social message sent to families that they are incomplete without children. There are a lot of people who have children because it's the next thing to do.<br />
<br />
Birth fathers tend to be pushed aside for fear they will derail an adoption plan. He may be allowed to participate if he fully supports every decision made by the first mother, but if he desires direct input he will usually be shamed or threatened into leaving. This is for fear the father may with to parent, thus destroying the beauty of a prospective adoption. <br />
<br />
To be "Anti-Adoption" means seeing through all the salesmanship of adoption agencies and recognizing the truth; adoption hurts. Everyone involved gets scarred in one way or another. This view is usually accompanied by a dogged determination to see nuclear families maintained and given the resources necessary to provide stable homes for their children. It's about keeping children with their parents and keeping women protected. Many adoption agencies are for profit businesses. They provide service to their customers while attempting to reduce their output and expenditures as much as possible. Who are their customers? Future adoptive parents. This reduces birth mothers and children to commodities. Women are taken advantage of, children are bought, and the adoptee is usually left to pick up the pieces.<br />
<br />
Being "Anti-Adoption" typically ignores one, blatant, truth; many parents are not capable of raising their children. For all the arguments about the way things "should be", lobbying government to change adoption laws or increase funding for <a href="http://www.fns.usda.gov/wic/">WIC</a> doesn't help the children who are in need <i>now</i>. This view also tends to have a very rigid view of what families are and can be. Very often there is a huge focus put on keeping children with "their real parents". This is a devastating message not only to adoptive parents, but also to step- and extended family members. It tends to ignore the things that adoption can get right. Instead the focus is on victimization and pain. This focus can be so intense that it actually victimizes people who speak of a positive adoption outcome. The "Anti-Adoption" rhetoric is less frightened of men than it is angry at them.<br />
<br />
First fathers tend to be condemned if they participate in an adoption <i>and </i>if they allow the mother to parent alone. Anything less than a wedding ring is unacceptable. This ignores how many relationships between men and women are <a href="http://statisticallyimpossible.blogspot.com/2012/04/disappearing-birthfather-reality-and.html">unstable</a>.<br />
<br />
<div style="color: #6aa84f; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The question stands; am I pro or anti adoption?</span></div>
<br />
I'm neither. I'm pro-child.<br />
<br />
I neither support nor protest the institution of adoption, nor adoption agencies as a whole. I support ethical behavior, and well scrutinized decisions. Each child's needs are different, and each family's situation is different. To be either pro or anti adoption across the board means keeping some children from what they need to be happy and healthy. No matter what, someone is losing. The only way to avoid this is individual discernment. Every situation must be taken on its own as something new. There is no cookie cutter solution.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-53811843741241009542012-06-16T10:25:00.001-04:002012-06-16T10:25:09.737-04:00Open Adoption Roundtable #39: Fathers' Day<div style="color: #6aa84f;">
<i>The <a href="http://openadoptionbloggers.com/open-adoption-roundtable/" title="Open Adoption Roundtable">Open Adoption Roundtable</a>
is a series of occasional writing prompts about open adoption. It’s
designed to showcase of the diversity of thought and experience in the
open adoption community. You don’t need to be listed at <a href="http://openadoptionbloggers.com/open-adoption-blogs/" title="Blogroll">Open Adoption Bloggers</a>
to participate or even be in a traditional open adoption. If you’re
thinking about openness in adoption, you have a place at the table. The
prompts are meant to be starting points–please feel free to adapt or
expand on them.</i></div>
<i><br /></i><br />
<b>Write to someone else in the adoption constellation (someone
specific or a general group). What do you want to say to them on
Father’s Day?</b><br />
<br />
To my Father,<br />
<br />
I have much to be thankful to you for. But this Fathers' Day my thoughts on our relationship are melancholy. I wish you could see me as the man I am today. There is little I want more than for our relationship to be vital and current, both in the events of our lives and in our development as men. I wish you could respect me as a father.<br />
<br />
The choice I made with Athena to place our son with another family was difficult for you. I know that to be true because it was difficult for everyone. All adoptions are difficult. But that's the only reason I know it was hard for you. You never told me how you felt, never shared your experience. It felt like you withdrew because of our decision and the way we went about it. I know we placed you in a precarious position. I'm sorry for that. But I also know how I felt. I was angry, sad, and felt very alone. Through out the course of the adoption process my family was not my ally. Still, nearly three years later, we don't talk about it.<br />
<br />
I wish you would ask how your first grandson is. He's talking, running, developing a mile a minute, and he doesn't know you. I wish I could show you all the pictures I take of him and all the pictures Ms Scarlet sends me. But either it is too uncomfortable to look at, or you truly don't care. I wish my son could have you as a grandfather. When you play and coo over my nephew, just months younger than my son, I see what a great grandfather you are. I want that for Festus. I want that for myself. I want to feel that I'm still your son. I want to feel that either of us is important enough to seek, to call after, to pursue a real relationship with.<br />
<br />
I wish you could see that I am a father. I wish you didn't pretend my son died. Though I'm not a father to him the way you were to me, he is my son.<br />
<br />
Happy Fathers' Day dad.<br />
<br />
I hope next year, we can both celebrate.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-12453820565688907072012-06-07T21:29:00.000-04:002012-06-07T21:29:04.188-04:00Shameless PlugI have written a guest post for <a href="http://www.americaadopts.com/?p=11198&preview=true">America Adopts</a>. It's a relatively (for me) short piece ruminating on Fathers' Day and fatherhood generally.<br />
<br />
Lawrence, my contact there, has also put together a <a href="http://community.americaadopts.com/">forum</a>. It's still in it's infancy as it literally <i>just</i> launched. Still, if you're interested in a more direct conversation about adoption it's worth heading over. Introduce yourself, get the ball rolling. Similarly the <a href="http://www.birthfathersrecognized.org/index.html">birthfathers' forum</a> has moved, so change your bookmarks. The new forum is off to a bit of a slow start. Personally I'm really invested in making this one work, so don't be shy about heading over and participating. Remember, it isn't just for birthfathers. It's also for anyone looking to talk with/learn about birthfathers and our experiences.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-2338088458484464192012-06-01T13:08:00.000-04:002012-06-01T13:08:28.111-04:00Living with it<br />
In the near future Prof Plum, Ms Scarlet, and Festus will be moving. At least that's the plan. Last I knew they hadn't yet found a new house yet, but the hunt is on and the motivation is strong. Believe it or not this is actually very welcome news. They're moving closer to us! I'm really glad for this, as it not only simplifies their lives (Prof Plum will have a drastically shorter commute to work) but it also makes it even <i>more </i>convenient for us to visit. It feels a little funny to talk about our visits being easier, as even now we're only 35 minutes away by car. Unfortunately, this underscores a slow dawning realization for me that I'm less comfortable with.<br />
<br />
Our visits have become a bit less frequent. The same is true of chatter back and forth in terms of e-mails and such. I wish we were meeting more frequently, that more pictures were being sent back and forth, but they aren't. Unfortunately I tend to be a worrier anyway, so this isn't playing out particularly well in my mind. Worse is knowing exactly who is responsible:<br />
<br />
It's me.<br />
<br />
I'm entering a major transition period, and I'm not handling it very well. I've never been particularly graceful with significant change, and I'm definitely bungling this one. The major change going on is primarily financial. As such it's pretty stressful, and as mentioned above, I'm a worrier by nature anyway. Given that mine is the sole income for the household this transition feels very high stakes. But this feels like a big problem because it's interfering with my relationships.<br />
<br />
My preoccupation with my finances is keeping me from reaching out and continuing the conversation with my adoption family. Flatly put, that isn't okay. It's taken some time for me to recognize that was going on in the first place. Now that I have the only thing I know to do is, simply, live with it. It isn't comfortable, and I certainly don't like it. But the best I can do is try to quiet my mind, let it be uncomfortable, and try not to ruminate. This is another significant change for me, as my previous answer to such difficulties was to try harder. For a long time that worked. Unfortunately my work for the last five years has taken advantage of that attitude. As a result, I've compromised my health.<br />
<br />
Balancing the need to work more against the need for self-care is a common struggle. It often plays a major role in adoption plans. Fiscal poverty and physical poverty often work in tandem. When an adoption takes place with a primary goal of placing the child in better circumstances, it is common to applaud the first family, then dote on the child. Sometimes triumphant stories are shared about first parents who overcome their difficulties and persevere, entering the middle class or overcoming drug addiction. Unfortunately, for many people, this never happens.<br />
<br />
Many first parents place their children because of a their realistic understanding of socioeconomic mobility. For many their circumstances of necessity do not begin with an inopportune pregnancy. Nor do they end there. It's rather common to hear first mothers described as being "brave" and "strong" by their counterparts in the adoption world. It's true that going through an inopportune pregnancy results in a huge amount of personal growth and development. But most of these women didn't become brave by facing down doctors. Defending themselves against judgmental peers and family wasn't their first call to strength. Many of these women had been tested well before their pregnancy. And their mettle will continually be tested after it as well. But the cheerleading usually stops there.<br />
<br />
Almost no one cheers the woman buying her groceries with an <a href="http://www.fns.usda.gov/snap/ebt/">EBT</a> card. I've yet to see anyone high five a man picking soda bottles out of trash cans on his lunch break. As a society we deplore poverty. In adoption we recognize its powerful impact. Yet we aren't being honest about it, or our attitudes toward it. We can't hope to change it if we aren't willing to recognize what it is, and how common it is.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-3614159595424659572012-04-26T17:38:00.002-04:002012-04-29T10:31:02.416-04:00The Disappearing Birthfather: Reality and MythRelationships end. Thank God that they do. Imagine the number of horrendous middle and high school relationships we would be doomed to otherwise. As a society we can recognize that some relationships should not continue. The relationship itself may be unhealthy, or one or more of the participants may be an unhealthy partner for the other. Sometimes no one is as fault and two healthy people simply aren't a good fit for each other, despite all appearances to the contrary. And in some instances, even love is not enough to make the relationship work.<br />
<br />
Yet for all our understanding, when a relationship ends during pregnancy, in most cases, the man is villainized. Nowhere is this shown more frequently, nor more brazenly, than in the discussion of adoption. The disappearance of the birthfather is often cited as a primary reason for choosing to place a child for adoption. But where do these men go? Why did they leave, not only the birthmother, but their child as well?<br />
<br />
The unfortunate truth is we have practically no idea what the answers to these questions may be. The men in question are largely silent. Or are we looking at the equation backwards? Are the men silent and disappeared, or have they been abandoned and the questions left unasked? I suspect the real answer is both.<br />
<br />
Many women who choose to place their children for adoption were left by their male partners. But before we start pointing fingers, it's important to take a few considerations into account. First, failed romantic relationships outnumber lifelong partnerships for most people by at least an order of magnitude. For some people, two orders. After all, a lifelong partnership is just that. A lifelong commitment. That isn't the sort of relationship that happens every day. Second, the stress, conflict, and duress that is implicit in an adoption plan is enough to shatter most relationships, let alone one that may have been unstable from the start. To give a parallel, many marriages end after the loss of a child. The grief and existential pain that must be processed, both as individuals and as a couple, is significant enough to justify some couples parting ways. It's not an exact corollary, but close enough that we can see some similarities.<br />
<br />
Further, many men actually <i>try</i> to stay involved but aren't given that opportunity. Just as many men will end a relationship during pregnancy, so will many <i>women</i>. This is the circumstance that creates the possibility for a stereotypical last minute contest to an adoption. The birthfather swoops in and tries to claim custody. Often this happens after placement of the child has occurred, and is very upsetting for the adoptive family, and typically the birthmother as well. But looking at this scenario from the other perspective, the birthfather, he is merely trying to do what he feels is right. The birthfather is trying to raise his child, often emptying his savings to pay lawyer fees in the process. It's a scenario that no one wants, and is painful to everyone involved. At the very thought of this scenario, most people I've encountered suggest temperance on the part of the father. It is wished that he'd "do the right thing" and "step aside" to let the adoptive family continue their role as caregivers and fully step into the role of lifelong parenthood. This attitude tips its hat to a dangerous thought process.<br />
<br />
In adoption, the child is somehow <i>less</i> the father's than the mother's. That is to say, the mother has<i> more</i> claim to choice regarding a child, and <i>contact</i> after placement than the father does. In most adoption scenarios the birthfather's contact with the adoptive family and placed child is contingent upon his continuing romantic relationship with the birthmother. So if the birthfather is to have <i>any</i> contact with his child, it is to be meted out by the birthmother. Rarely adoptive families will step into a direct relationship with both birthparents as individuals. It is truly exciting when that happens. But its infrequency, from a birthfather's perspective, is unacceptable.<br />
<br />
Birthfathers do leave. So do birthmothers. Relationships can end, and thank God that they do. But what does any of that have to do with a mother's or father's relationship with their child? The assumptions made about birthfathers highlight some problematic hypocrisy. We praise women for leaving hurtful relationships even during pregnancy, raising their children alone, and standing against social convention to follow their conscience. When men attempt the same, they are condemned as the villain.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-26348321066926639242012-04-12T17:38:00.001-04:002012-04-12T17:43:42.545-04:00Re-Skinning the Cat: Another InvertviewI had the pleasure, and surprise, of being interviewed last week. Unlike the <a href="http://www.productionnotreproduction.com/2011/11/interview-project-november-2011.html">Open Adoption Interview Project</a>, this time around the request was spontaneous. It was quite a pleasant way to pass part of my Saturday afternoon, and I had the chance to chat with another seriously involved father.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.americaadopts.com/archives/author/lawrence">Lawrence</a>, at <a href="http://www.americaadopts.com/">America Adopts</a>, is an adoptive father who put together a website to help prospective birth parents and hopeful adoptive parents connect, find resources for support, and get information about adoption and how to do it well.<br />
<br />
The <a href="http://www.americaadopts.com/archives/9749">interview</a> was cordial, and actually rather fun. We talked about many aspects of open adoption, gender roles, personal experience, and social bias. I suggest hopping over there and taking a look at what's going on.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-73999687852486864152012-04-04T08:28:00.000-04:002012-04-04T08:28:53.896-04:00Out of the Shadows IndeedSerendipity came knocking at my door this week on three occasions. One of these is still in the works and, as such, I won't bother sharing until there is something post. The others, however, are live right now and available to all.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.birthfathersrecognized.org/index.html">Birthfathers Recognized</a> is a project that has only recently begun to create an open dialogue among and <i>with </i>birthfathers. While the site is still in its infancy, it has the possibility to be a significant venue and resource for demystifying the first father experience and giving current and future first fathers a place to plug in and find some resources and support. It is <i>exactly</i> what I wish had existed when Athena and I were making our adoption plan. Currently the site plan will have a place for birthfathers to tell their stories in their own words, and will also have a forum. Here's the really great part; the forum is open to anyone. The forum is there to foster <i>open</i> communication. Unfortunately the site doesn't pop up much on most search engines yet. So if you know a birthfather or someone who may be part of an adoption plan, please point them toward this site.<br />
<br />
Earlier this week on <a href="http://www.shareable.net/">Shareable</a>, I noticed a word on their front page one rarely sees. Empathic. That's not a word encountered much on this side of the pond <span style="color: #6aa84f;">(here in the States)</span>, but its cousin <a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/empathetic?s=t">empathetic</a> may be more familiar. It happens to be one of my favorite words, and favorite concepts. Perhaps you can imagine my surprise when I found, in the article on Shareable, an entire blog and social change agenda devoted to empathy and the art of living. But enough with the preamble.<br />
<br />
Check out Roman Krznaric's talk at the RSA on <a href="http://www.romankrznaric.com/outrospection/2012/04/01/1630">The Six Habits of Highly Empathic People</a>. His speaking, writing, and his blog <a href="http://www.romankrznaric.com/outrospection">Outrospection</a> are great. He has some valuable perspective on how we cam to be where we are as a society, why empathy is scary, how ideological change can change society, and ways we can actually <i>practice</i> to get better at empathizing with others.<br />
<br />
If you wonder why I'm posting this here, or what all of this has to do with adoption, please go to his blog and watch the video <span style="color: #6aa84f;">(also available on</span> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G9jC1ThqTNo">YouTube</a><span style="color: #6aa84f;">)</span>.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-55005788604452972092012-02-21T18:57:00.000-05:002012-02-21T18:57:05.415-05:00Weird; Like NormalFor a long time I wondered if something was wrong in our relationship. Was I trying too hard? That explanation seemed very unlikely. Perhaps I wasn't trying hard enough? Why didn't this seem to be going the way I had been told to expect?<br />
<br />
I needed to stop measuring by other people's standards and recognizing the good thing in front of me. I had heard about and read so many people describing their relationships with adoptive families I lost focus. So often the description "like my sister" came up, shortly followed by tales of "countless texts back and forth" I started to think that might be "normal".<br />
<br />
For a brief time I actually felt a little ashamed that my relationship with Ms Scarlet and Prof Plum didn't resemble those stories. I wanted our relationship to be like a beacon for how good everything can be in an adoption. I wanted to be the wildly successful anecdote people share, secretly hoping the same can happen to them, like when discussing film stars and rock gods. I looked at the markers for that quality relationship and found many of them lacking.<br />
<br />
Instead, I found a <i>real</i> relationship. I found the kind of relationship that expresses, and more importantly respects, the strangeness of how our relationship came to be. Let's face it, adoption is a pretty strange way to kick off a friendship. "Hey, here's a kid, let's be friends!" It doesn't exactly fly in most social circles. So instead, I decided to let this relationship be exactly what it is; It's a little weird in that it's completely unique.<br />
<br />
We don't get together and hang out at the park just because. We don't send each other endless text messages about our day at work, or the film we just saw. We don't gab like old friends who have known each other forever, because we haven't.<br />
<br />
Instead, when we meet <span style="color: #38761d;">(about once every month)</span> everyone is clearly aware of why we're together:<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="color: #38761d; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Our Son</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Don't get me wrong. I really like Ms Scarlet and Prof Plum. They're great people, and I always enjoy the time we spend together. We have very little in common in terms of factual experience, but we have a great deal in common with regard to temperament. We tend to think and behave similarly, even though our contexts are quite different. But then that's the wonderful thing about this family we've built; we like and are alike, even though we differ.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Our relationship with each other is icing. The cake is everyone's relationship with Festus. That is what makes me feel that this is something to be truly proud of. Our adoption is truly and completely centered on him. Without him Athena and I probably wouldn't have a relationship with Prof Plum or Ms Scarlet. And that's fine. Our relationship is a little weird. It is awkward to explain, but is becoming very natural to those that are in it. We are not like family in the SitCom sense, nor the story book way. We are not like long lost siblings who gab and joke all day. Our relationship runs deep, and quiet. Our relationship is our shared son. We all know it, and we don't need it to be anything else.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">The laughter and fun we share, when it happens, is icing. Our son is the cake.</div>I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-69616269058986169642012-02-12T09:15:00.001-05:002012-02-12T09:17:29.369-05:00The Bonds that Sever: The Birth/Adoptive Parent ConnectionThe new trend in the adoption world is to view birthparents and adoptive parents as equal and opposite. They are, after all, on the opposite sides of the table when it comes to adoption. One group gains a child. The other loses a child.<br />
<br />
But there are significant similarities in the experience of adoptive parents and first parents. Most prevalent is the common experience of pain. That, however, is skimming the surface. Surprising to many is the cause for that pain is also similar; the existential loss that happens before one can approach adoption. The easy connection is to say couples who struggle with infertility have experienced the loss of a child as the birth parents will upon relinquishing parental rights. This is the simplest, most concrete, connection to make. If the experience beneath the factual events is examined, the parallels show themselves clearly, and with ferocity.<br />
<br />
The loss found with infertility extends beyond miscarriage. People who struggle with infertility that never successfully concieve can experience just as potent a loss as those who have lost a child that could not be carried to term. That may not always be the case, but it is possible. But what can link the experience of a family, one that has never had the possibility of biological parenthood, to the experience of a first family about to place their child forever in the care of strangers?<br />
<br />
Possibility.<br />
<br />
The loss of possibility is powerful. It ignores the lines drawn between "us" and "them". It excludes literal experience and context. The loss of possibility is among the worst we can know. Without hope for our future there is little cause to continue caring for ourselves or others beyond stubbornness, and a refusal to give up in the face of certain defeat.<br />
<br />
This is what links the experience of first parents and adoptive parents. Each has encountered their hopes for the future, and each has watched them crumble. No matter what the cause of their decision, first parents leave their desires for their future lives the moment they consider adoption (or the moment an inopportune pregnancy is discovered). No one wants to be a birth parent. No one dreams of growing up to place their children in the care of another family. Similarly, no one day dreams about fertility treatments, years of medical frustration and struggle, only to learn the effort is lost. In this arena, too, adoptive and birth parents are linked.<br />
<br />
No one wants to be betrayed by their body.<br />
<br />
First and adoptive parents also experience similar alienation. The pain in our lives alone makes many around us uncomfortable. The literal source of our pain often makes us <a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/pariah">pariah</a>. People tend to get very uncomfortable when sexuality, fertility, pregnancy, or birth enter their consciousness through anything other than rose tinted romanticism. To talk about hard realities and trouble in any of these arenas is taboo. In some contexts it may be considered acceptable, but typically only for a short period of time. Effectively, if adoptive or birth parents are given support, it usually expires within a few months. It usually isn't around long enough to get through one pregnancy, let alone the years of struggle and waiting adoptive parents often experience.<br />
<br />
But the moment the adoption takes place the experiences diverge significantly. First families typically use the adoption process as a means of reclaiming control of their lives' direction. The birthparents, particularly birthmothers, are in the driver's seat each step of the way until the child to be adopted in placed with the adoptive parents. Even so the impending dates of an expected delivery range and court dates often feel like a slow march to execution. Yes, placing the child is something that has the promise of giving the first parents another shot at creating the lives they want. But there is no promise the lives they want are possible, nor that society will allow someone "like them" to have a good life anymore.<br />
<br />
The adoptive family, however, has most of their dread front loaded. The court dates, while nerve racking, are steps toward finalizing a process that gives new hope and possibility. Adoptive parents' pain is redeemed through adoption. The first parents are condemned by it. These two families converge at a point in their lives, though they are on very different trajectories. That, anyway, is the promise of adoption.<br />
<br />
The actual experience to follow may or may not live up to any of those promises. Adoptive families can be surprised to encounter significant bias, even disdain and mistrust, for how they built their families. First parents are often surprised at how their experience can become a lightning rod for similar stories. Suddenly the auto-mechanic, the guy bagging groceries, the woman waiting at the bus stop, all have stories about adoption that connect with, and share sympathy for, the first family experience.<br />
<br />
But that isn't what it feels like. The promises and realities of adoption often don't agree. The attitudes each member of the adoption community has about others in their midst are often rather misinformed. We have a lot more in common than we give credit for, even if the order of those experiences differs.I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9171749502502490378.post-83651191274308722382012-02-10T17:18:00.000-05:002012-02-10T17:18:26.331-05:00A brief visit from RealitySeveral times over the past couple of months I've had the chance to visit, talk, laugh, and play with my son.<br />
<br />
Each of the visits has been significantly different from the others. One visit included Athena and her nuclear family (mom, dad, and brother). One was just Athena and me. The visit right before Christmas was a special one. It was just me, Prof Plum, Ms Scarlet, and little Festus. Athena was buried under school work at the time and couldn't shake free any time during the crunch of final's week.<br />
<br />
I was disappointed she couldn't join me, but as soon as Festus waved "hello" as I entered the kitchen that disappeared. There was a lot of conversation, both between the adults and with Festus. He had just gotten a substantially bigger vocabulary and was all too happy to show it off. Though, at two and a half, it still takes some work to understand what he's saying. Doubly so when he zigs into Spanish and zags back into English mid-thought. All those years studying Latin are showing their worth.<br />
<br />
But the real joy of that visit came near the end. We had already eaten and were winding down. I sat on the floor in the living room, knowing that Festus was soon to enjoy his bedtime stories. To my surprise he picked up a book, walked straight toward me, turned, and sat in my lap. He held up the book cuing me to take it from him. Ms Scarlet asked "do you want him to read you your bedtime story?" Again, to my surprise and delight he replied with a clearly audible "yes".<br />
<br />
That was the first time my son clearly and demonstrably chose me to do something with him. I had butterflies. My heart leapt to my throat. The only time I can remember that kind of giddy feeling, the disbelief at the joy I encountered, was when I met Athena. In that moment, all doubt that my son knows and loves me disappeared.<br />
<br />
That's something I don't talk about much, but it had been a lingering worry. Did my son actually recognize me? Was he starting to know who I am, or see me as someone important, or at least worthwhile? Silly questions to ask of a relationship with a toddler, perhaps, but they were asked nonetheless. And they were answered;<br />
<br />
"yes".I amhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13182867182942654599noreply@blogger.com4