Our family recently dined at the brand new Golden Corral in our area. Now, it is important to understand what type of eatery the Golden Corral is before moving forward with this story. The Golden Corral is wall to wall food with every imaginable type of cuisine. Actually, it looks like one trough after another for as far as the eye can see. Where else could you have Chinese, Mexican, seafood, salad, and down home Southern cooking in one place? Did I mention there is a chocolate fountain? Oh yes, it is quite a sight to behold.
Between the troughs of food are MILLIONS of people. I mean it is like Golden Corral is handing out cash money! There are people everywhere and each one of them has at least 4 kids with them. I was on sensory overload from minute one of walking in the door. To calm myself a bit, I sat with Morgan at the table while Kim and good friend, Misty, helped Madison and McKenzie fix their plates. It is important to point out the picky eaters in our family left the building with enormous bellies and huge smiles. I sat at the table with Morgan, focused only on her face, and tried to entertain a hungry 2 year old.
Amidst the noise of clinking forks and knives, Madison announces she has to go to the restroom. Since I was actively chewing and Kim was not, Kim drew the short straw for bathroom visit #1. Have you ever gone to the bathroom in an all you can eat kind of place? It isn't always pretty. Neither one of us wanted to make this trip but children in our family do not go to the restroom alone in public places. So off they go. Honestly, I breathed a sigh of relief that I am off the hook for the bathroom break.
Any mother reading this post knows how wrong I was for assuming I had escaped the dreaded bathroom break in the all you can eat Golden Corral. Shortly after Kim returns with Madison, McKenzie has to go to the restroom. Yep, my number was up. So off we go to what was not a half bad public restroom. I was pleasantly surprised, but in awe of the sheer number of people also using the restroom. We weren't in there 2 seconds when I hear, "Is she your daughter?" I turn around to see several little African American girls drying their hands at the sink in complete fascination of our mother daughter relationship.
"Yes, I am her mom. And she is my daughter," I answer.
"How is that?" they ask.
"Well, she is adopted," I explain.
"What does that mean?" they ask.
"It means she grew in another lady's tummy and became part of our family after she was born."
"Cool."
I return to the table to finish my meal and watch the group of little girls from the restroom pass by as if seeing a display at the zoo. All wide eyed and curious, they slowly walk past our table and I share the adoption conversation with Kim. Ah, that makes sense.
Morgan, who has not embraced potty training until this moment, decides she needs to pee pee. On the potty. Now. And she didn't lean over to discreetly whisper this need to me, but instead launches into a screaming fit that went something like this:
"POTTY NOW MOMMY! POTTY NOW! NOW NOW NOW!"
Trying to maintain some sense of dignity, I grab Morgan and the diaper bag and head back to the restroom. The same scene appeared on the other side of the door - not half bad restroom, a ton of people, and a gaggle of curious little girls. I put Morgan on the potty, but she doesn't like the seat. It's too big. I hold her over the seat. It doesn't feel right. I check her Pull Up to feel not a drop of liquid. We leave the stall to assume the position on the changing table. Guess what happens next?
"Are you her mama?"
"Why, yes, I am."
"You can't be her mama. She's black."
"Yes, I know."
"And you're not."
"Yes, I know."
"So how are you her mama?"
"Well she was born from another lady's tummy and became part of our family after she was born. Even though we don't look alike, we are still a family."
Six little eyes are boring holes in my head. I am certain I am being interrogated. Two of the three girls continue to stare me down as their friend, or possibly sister, pulls open the restroom door to yell, "Hey Keisha! Come here." Great.
Keisha takes mere moments to appear and is slightly older than the other 3 girls. I am just finishing the ritual on the changing table with Morgan.
"Keisha, that's her mama," she says as she points to Morgan.
"No way." Keisha says.
"Yep, they don't look alike but they are still a family. That baby was adopted."
"Cool."
And with that, the interrogation ends. Now everyone wants to know Morgan's name and how old she is and confirm how pretty she is. The usual. I, on the other hand, wanted to finish my meal which was surely ice cold by now. I left the restroom with the Potty Princess and informed Misty and Kim the restaurant was now enlightened. (Picture the old lady at the end of Poltergeist) Kim looked around and assured me there was very little evidence of enlightenment in the Golden Corral.
Of course, you can't always see enlightenment from the outside. Right?
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Sunday, September 05, 2010
A Funny Thing Happened on the way to the Zoo
It was the Saturday morning of Labor Day weekend and not a single plan had been made to fill the next 3 days for 3 little girls. While still laying in the bed, listening to the girls slowly wake up, Kim says to me, "Let's go to the zoo."
"When?" I ask.
"Right now," she says.
So we hop out of the bed and start the preparations for a last minute trip to Waco, where we are told a fabulous zoo exists. The girls were thrilled and worked with us, instead of against us as usual, to complete the road trip preparations. Kim packed snacks and drinks enough to stay away for a week. Children were dressed, teeth were brushed, and the van loaded with every possible necessity. Just shortly before 9 Am, we were headed for I-35 North to visit Waco, TX home of Dr. Pepper, Baylor University, and a zoo.
The 1 hour drive went pretty well, which is amazing since Morgan, age 2, HATES to be in the car. I have never known a child to dislike the car the way Morgan does. Driving home from pre-school is often a challenge! All in all, Morgan did really well. We arrived at the zoo about 10 Am and easily found a parking place. This was a good sign. Kim and I marveled at how comfortable the weather was. I think it was about the most perfect day ever to visit the zoo! We didn't even have to stand in line to buy our tickets. I looked over the children at Kim and said, "I am digging Waco!"
We walk into the zoo, having just purchased our tickets, and took a potty poll - who has to go and who thinks they don't have to go but they are going to have to go anyway? I take Madison and McKenzie to the restroom just inside the main entrance. Kim and Morgan were waiting outside for us. Now that our bladders were relieved and the map was in hand, it was time to have a quick huddle about staying together, not leaving the zoo with anyone but us, and a review of our names besides Momma and Mommy.
It is during the huddle that I notice the stare. Our family gets them all the time and I am totally used to it. However, this stare went on too long and it was ticking me off. A woman standing a few feet away from our huddle is boldly looking in our direction with such a puzzled look on her face. I want to scream, "Yes, we are 2 white women with 3 black kids! We are far less interesting than you might think. Now stop looking at us like we are freaks!"
Of course, she can't hear the conversation in my head. Actually, very few people other than Kim ever can hear the running dialogue in my brain. So what is a mom to do? And not just any mom, but a mother bear/politically correct/Christian/my-kids-are-watching me mother? Well let me just tell you.'
I stand up straight, turn my entire body away from my family and towards my audience of one, and say with all the Southern charm I can muster, "GOOD MORNING!" Yeah, that ought to show her! I know, it was lame. Please remember there is no script writer for my life standing in the background somewhere. My point was to make her aware of the fact that she was staring at my family. Thinking she would immediately look away after her rudeness was passively agressively pointed out in public, I turned my attention and my body back to the girls.
And that's when I heard it. Oh yeah. Here it comes.
"Amy, is that you?"
I turn around to see my audience of one moving closer to me with arms outstretched. Oh great. I have NO idea who this is, but clearly she knows my name. And possibly, just possibly, she wasn't staring at my family to be rude or inquisitive but to determine if it was really me.
"Yes, and you are....?" I fumble for words in that akward moment when you get caught with your pants down, not having a clue who this person is.
"I am sure you don't remember me, but we were in a training together several years ago. It is so good to see you!"
Oh crap. I definitely don't remember the training or the woman. We exchange pleasantries, confirm that it is in fact the perfect day to visit the zoo, and go our separate ways. Of course, Kim is about to burst with laughter since my in-your-face GOOD MORNING was clearly directed at a stranger and this woman was not. Of course, I still don't remember her name and vaguely remember the training. I clearly made an impression on her and am only slightly concerned as to what exactly I did or said to make such a lasting impression. Oh well, no harm no foul.
I am predicting "GOOD MORNING!!" to become a buzz word in my family as Kim continues to chuckle about the Debutante who was prepared to get all up in a lady's face at the zoo for staring at our family. Of course, I can't help it that my children are so beautiful as to cause a commotion in front of the restrooms at the Waco zoo. Apparently, this is just a burden I will have to carry.
All kidding aside, we had a wonderful day at the zoo and I am so glad we went. Here are just a few pictures of our time with King Louis, Melman, and Alex the Lion. By the way, the enormous lion stared at Morgan for the longest time. Kim is convinced he thought she was meat since she was wearing a pink shirt.
"When?" I ask.
"Right now," she says.
So we hop out of the bed and start the preparations for a last minute trip to Waco, where we are told a fabulous zoo exists. The girls were thrilled and worked with us, instead of against us as usual, to complete the road trip preparations. Kim packed snacks and drinks enough to stay away for a week. Children were dressed, teeth were brushed, and the van loaded with every possible necessity. Just shortly before 9 Am, we were headed for I-35 North to visit Waco, TX home of Dr. Pepper, Baylor University, and a zoo.
The 1 hour drive went pretty well, which is amazing since Morgan, age 2, HATES to be in the car. I have never known a child to dislike the car the way Morgan does. Driving home from pre-school is often a challenge! All in all, Morgan did really well. We arrived at the zoo about 10 Am and easily found a parking place. This was a good sign. Kim and I marveled at how comfortable the weather was. I think it was about the most perfect day ever to visit the zoo! We didn't even have to stand in line to buy our tickets. I looked over the children at Kim and said, "I am digging Waco!"
We walk into the zoo, having just purchased our tickets, and took a potty poll - who has to go and who thinks they don't have to go but they are going to have to go anyway? I take Madison and McKenzie to the restroom just inside the main entrance. Kim and Morgan were waiting outside for us. Now that our bladders were relieved and the map was in hand, it was time to have a quick huddle about staying together, not leaving the zoo with anyone but us, and a review of our names besides Momma and Mommy.
It is during the huddle that I notice the stare. Our family gets them all the time and I am totally used to it. However, this stare went on too long and it was ticking me off. A woman standing a few feet away from our huddle is boldly looking in our direction with such a puzzled look on her face. I want to scream, "Yes, we are 2 white women with 3 black kids! We are far less interesting than you might think. Now stop looking at us like we are freaks!"
Of course, she can't hear the conversation in my head. Actually, very few people other than Kim ever can hear the running dialogue in my brain. So what is a mom to do? And not just any mom, but a mother bear/politically correct/Christian/my-kids-are-watching me mother? Well let me just tell you.'
I stand up straight, turn my entire body away from my family and towards my audience of one, and say with all the Southern charm I can muster, "GOOD MORNING!" Yeah, that ought to show her! I know, it was lame. Please remember there is no script writer for my life standing in the background somewhere. My point was to make her aware of the fact that she was staring at my family. Thinking she would immediately look away after her rudeness was passively agressively pointed out in public, I turned my attention and my body back to the girls.
And that's when I heard it. Oh yeah. Here it comes.
"Amy, is that you?"
I turn around to see my audience of one moving closer to me with arms outstretched. Oh great. I have NO idea who this is, but clearly she knows my name. And possibly, just possibly, she wasn't staring at my family to be rude or inquisitive but to determine if it was really me.
"Yes, and you are....?" I fumble for words in that akward moment when you get caught with your pants down, not having a clue who this person is.
"I am sure you don't remember me, but we were in a training together several years ago. It is so good to see you!"
Oh crap. I definitely don't remember the training or the woman. We exchange pleasantries, confirm that it is in fact the perfect day to visit the zoo, and go our separate ways. Of course, Kim is about to burst with laughter since my in-your-face GOOD MORNING was clearly directed at a stranger and this woman was not. Of course, I still don't remember her name and vaguely remember the training. I clearly made an impression on her and am only slightly concerned as to what exactly I did or said to make such a lasting impression. Oh well, no harm no foul.
I am predicting "GOOD MORNING!!" to become a buzz word in my family as Kim continues to chuckle about the Debutante who was prepared to get all up in a lady's face at the zoo for staring at our family. Of course, I can't help it that my children are so beautiful as to cause a commotion in front of the restrooms at the Waco zoo. Apparently, this is just a burden I will have to carry.
All kidding aside, we had a wonderful day at the zoo and I am so glad we went. Here are just a few pictures of our time with King Louis, Melman, and Alex the Lion. By the way, the enormous lion stared at Morgan for the longest time. Kim is convinced he thought she was meat since she was wearing a pink shirt.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Back to School
I can hardly believe summer is over and school is officially in full swing again. This has truly been a magical 3 months as I have finished my first book, enjoyed days of swimming with Madison and Kim, attended a national adoption conference, and launched the book. Wow! And now McKenzie has started kindergarten and Madison is in the 2nd grade! Where does the time go?
I am tremendously thankful for my family and in awe of the ways my life has changed since losing my job in November. I have found my life's passion and it is becoming more and more clear to me how I could make a living advocating for children. It seems so clear to me how everything that has come before today has prepared me for this challenge. I thought the world would end when I walked away from my beloved travel industry. My heart was broken when I was forced to admit my business had failed. And yet the skills I learned as a travel agent have paved the way for my role as author and advocate - networking, sales, marketing, motivating, and most importantly how to bring people together.
Very little is certain about the future at this moment. I don't have a job or much income. However, I do have a beautifully written book, the attention of many people at the Department of Family and Protective Services; the opportunity to speak to the public through radio appearances and business groups about foster care; the opportunity to talk to school districts and counselors about race; and so much more. I am confident God is in control and I trust that all will be well. I am in the flow of His plan for my life and I am jumping head first into the deep end knowing God will not let me fall.
I am tremendously thankful for my family and in awe of the ways my life has changed since losing my job in November. I have found my life's passion and it is becoming more and more clear to me how I could make a living advocating for children. It seems so clear to me how everything that has come before today has prepared me for this challenge. I thought the world would end when I walked away from my beloved travel industry. My heart was broken when I was forced to admit my business had failed. And yet the skills I learned as a travel agent have paved the way for my role as author and advocate - networking, sales, marketing, motivating, and most importantly how to bring people together.
Very little is certain about the future at this moment. I don't have a job or much income. However, I do have a beautifully written book, the attention of many people at the Department of Family and Protective Services; the opportunity to speak to the public through radio appearances and business groups about foster care; the opportunity to talk to school districts and counselors about race; and so much more. I am confident God is in control and I trust that all will be well. I am in the flow of His plan for my life and I am jumping head first into the deep end knowing God will not let me fall.
Thursday, July 01, 2010
Spirituality Lesson #1 from the Pool
While Hurricane Alex has kept us away from the pool for the latter half of the week, I am thankful for the time I was able to splash in the water with Kim and Maddie earlier this week. I had what you might call and Aha moment in the pool on Tuesday after submitting my manuscript to the publisher. Here I was feeling euphoric over the completion of a life long dream that came as a result of two years of intense growth and followed by three months of non stop work in uncharted water. As I floated on my back in the nearly empty pool it occurred to me the water was holding me up. Despite my weight, the water was able to hold me. I have watched Madison try to learn to float and it is only when she panics that she falls below the surface. Morgan, on the other hand, hasn't learned to be afraid yet and is able to float perfectly fine.
God is enough to sustain me. I don't need to know how or why. He just does it. And when I panic and start thinking too much, I inevitably fall below the surface. In writing this book, I have learned to trust God. I have learned to float both in and out of the pool. The water is enough to sustain me. God will hold me up. I will not drown. As a result of floating, I have reached a level of self fulfillment I never knew existed. I feel strong, capable, powerful. Thank you Lord!
God is enough to sustain me. I don't need to know how or why. He just does it. And when I panic and start thinking too much, I inevitably fall below the surface. In writing this book, I have learned to trust God. I have learned to float both in and out of the pool. The water is enough to sustain me. God will hold me up. I will not drown. As a result of floating, I have reached a level of self fulfillment I never knew existed. I feel strong, capable, powerful. Thank you Lord!
Friday, June 25, 2010
What a strange, strange summer
I realized this morning as I laid beside a gorgeous pool watching Kim and Madison dive for rubber fish that I have never experienced a summer like the one we are having now. First of all, Kim and I are unemployed. We are at home together 24/7. Sometimes this is a good thing and other times, not so much. In the ten years we have shared our lives, we have never had this much time together to do whatever we want. For the first summer in Maddie's life, she is at home with us every day rather than at day care or day camp.
I have also never spent as much time in the pool as I have this summer. Our neighborhood pool is nearly empty until noon every weekday so the three of us have a private oasis in the sweltering heat. Maddie and Kim are there just about every day at 9 when the pool opens and I am with them as often as I can be. Kim is swimming laps and Maddie's skills are increasing every day. We love to dive for these rubber fish and have become quite competitive. In my whole life, I have never tanned. Okay, maybe once when I was three but who remembers that? I have always burned to the point of near blisters and then turned lily white again after shedding 3-4 layers of skin. But not this summer! Apparently I am spending just the right amount of time in the sun, covered in sunscreen, to gradually acquire some color. As she applied Water Babies 50 to my back this morning, Kim noted she has never seen me brown. Not even a little brown.
Our time in the pool this morning truly felt like a vacation. Maddie and I dared and double dog dared each other to jump off the side of the pool, rather than the traditional easy-does-it method I prefer. We swam laps, dove for fish, floated, goofed off, and generally had a ball for almost an hour. I spent the next hour laying by the pool reading the unbelievably good screen play written by my friend, neighbor, and writing buddy - Tiffany. Eventually Kim and Maddie exited the pool and laid on chairs beside me.
When I asked Maddie what the best part of her summer has been, she answered swimming and math (with her math tutor, BJ). I could have fallen off of my chair! Can you believe it? We laid by the pool talking about the fun things we've done so far and the other things we still want to do. Finally, the heat got to us and we jumped into the pool all over again and swam and played and goofed around. What a fantastic day!
I have never been an athletic person, but I have discovered something about swimming. When I swim, I am present. My mind isn't racing with to-do lists or deadlines or ideas. I am not thinking about anything but the water and my girls. I am so thankful to discover such a positive activity that is helping me both physically and mentally. It isn't easy for me to turn off the internal drive. Swimming makes it possible, which makes me think what the hell am I going to do come September?
The other super duper unique aspect of this summer is that I have written a book. How many people can say that? I have worked on this project for 2 years and then decided to scrap it all and start over. I finished the entire manuscript in 4 weeks. The editing process is much longer. Every day there are dozens of e-mails from my editor, Jane, and my contact at the publisher, Zac. And I get so excited every time the party planner for the book launch calls or e-mails with a question. My life is amazing! I get to spend time every day with 2 of the people I love the most in this world, I get to swim as often as I want, I get to write and now publish my book, and I get to create - a non profit, a website, a dream.
Thank you, God, for such rich blessings and amazing opportunities. I will never ever forget the summer of 2010.
I have also never spent as much time in the pool as I have this summer. Our neighborhood pool is nearly empty until noon every weekday so the three of us have a private oasis in the sweltering heat. Maddie and Kim are there just about every day at 9 when the pool opens and I am with them as often as I can be. Kim is swimming laps and Maddie's skills are increasing every day. We love to dive for these rubber fish and have become quite competitive. In my whole life, I have never tanned. Okay, maybe once when I was three but who remembers that? I have always burned to the point of near blisters and then turned lily white again after shedding 3-4 layers of skin. But not this summer! Apparently I am spending just the right amount of time in the sun, covered in sunscreen, to gradually acquire some color. As she applied Water Babies 50 to my back this morning, Kim noted she has never seen me brown. Not even a little brown.
Our time in the pool this morning truly felt like a vacation. Maddie and I dared and double dog dared each other to jump off the side of the pool, rather than the traditional easy-does-it method I prefer. We swam laps, dove for fish, floated, goofed off, and generally had a ball for almost an hour. I spent the next hour laying by the pool reading the unbelievably good screen play written by my friend, neighbor, and writing buddy - Tiffany. Eventually Kim and Maddie exited the pool and laid on chairs beside me.
When I asked Maddie what the best part of her summer has been, she answered swimming and math (with her math tutor, BJ). I could have fallen off of my chair! Can you believe it? We laid by the pool talking about the fun things we've done so far and the other things we still want to do. Finally, the heat got to us and we jumped into the pool all over again and swam and played and goofed around. What a fantastic day!
I have never been an athletic person, but I have discovered something about swimming. When I swim, I am present. My mind isn't racing with to-do lists or deadlines or ideas. I am not thinking about anything but the water and my girls. I am so thankful to discover such a positive activity that is helping me both physically and mentally. It isn't easy for me to turn off the internal drive. Swimming makes it possible, which makes me think what the hell am I going to do come September?
The other super duper unique aspect of this summer is that I have written a book. How many people can say that? I have worked on this project for 2 years and then decided to scrap it all and start over. I finished the entire manuscript in 4 weeks. The editing process is much longer. Every day there are dozens of e-mails from my editor, Jane, and my contact at the publisher, Zac. And I get so excited every time the party planner for the book launch calls or e-mails with a question. My life is amazing! I get to spend time every day with 2 of the people I love the most in this world, I get to swim as often as I want, I get to write and now publish my book, and I get to create - a non profit, a website, a dream.
Thank you, God, for such rich blessings and amazing opportunities. I will never ever forget the summer of 2010.
Little Helping Hands
I am so excited to learn about this great non-profit organization in Austin called Little Helping Hands. Created by a mother who wanted to instill in her own children concept of charity, Little Helping Hands offers children the opportunity to volunteer their time to help others in the community. Kim and I took Madison to her first event 2 weeks ago where we packed brown bag meals for the women of St. Louise House, which provides housing for women and children who were previously homeless. Along with five other families, we packaged 60 dinners for folks to eat during a training event that night. I was blown away by the entire experience.
This week I took Maddie to the giant Good Will retail store where she and other children scoured the floor for doughnuts, the little plastic pieces on the top of a hanger displaying the size. Apparently the doughnuts are a huge safety hazard and it is easy for children to see them so each kiddo received an Easter like basket and before I knew it, Maddie had filled hers! I straightened racks and gathered empty hangers. There were snacks afterward and a tour of the warehouse. I don't know how much Maddie actually got out of the tour, but she definitely knows where are donated clothes end up.
I can hardly wait to find another opportunity with Little Helping Hands to involve Madison in a service oriented project. She tends to be a bit too big for her britches and any chance I have to provide a reality check for my first born is a good thing.
This week I took Maddie to the giant Good Will retail store where she and other children scoured the floor for doughnuts, the little plastic pieces on the top of a hanger displaying the size. Apparently the doughnuts are a huge safety hazard and it is easy for children to see them so each kiddo received an Easter like basket and before I knew it, Maddie had filled hers! I straightened racks and gathered empty hangers. There were snacks afterward and a tour of the warehouse. I don't know how much Maddie actually got out of the tour, but she definitely knows where are donated clothes end up.
I can hardly wait to find another opportunity with Little Helping Hands to involve Madison in a service oriented project. She tends to be a bit too big for her britches and any chance I have to provide a reality check for my first born is a good thing.
What is foster care?
What a strange question for a child adopted from foster care to ask me. I sat speechless across from Madison as we ate lunch together at McDonald's. I was explaining to her the Hair-A-Thon I was coordinating for children in foster care when she sprung this question on me. How could she not know what foster care is when it is such a big part of our life? And then I realized it was the term she didn't know and not the concept. The conversation went something like this:
"You know how our family sometimes takes care of babies whose parents are sick until that Mom or Dad can get better?"
"Yes."
"Well, that is foster care. When one family takes care of the children of another family until the parents of the children get better."
"Do the parents always get better?"
"Not always. You remember how we explained that McKenzie's birth mom and dad were very sick and weren't getting better? And we were asked if we would like to be McKenzie's forever family since her birth parents were in such bad shape? Well, that is called adoption from foster care."
"I know what adoption is, Mommy!"
"Yes, I know you know what adoption is but now you know what foster care is too. You know how good you and your sisters feel when you have your hair washed and combed? You know how pretty you feel? Not every kid in foster care lives in a home where the Mom knows how to wash and comb their hair."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. So those kids don't get to feel pretty like you and your sisters do. Mommy is arranging for a bunch of those kids in foster care to get their hair fixed at the beauty shop and feel beautiful! They'll get their hair washed and conditioned and the stylist can show their foster moms how to comb their hair like I comb yours. I wonder if there is anything else we could do for those little girls to make them feel pretty while they get their hair done."
"We could paint their finger nails."
And with that, Madison learned how to give. At her suggestion, I texted a handful of friends asking each one to spend an hour at the salon on the day of the Hair-A-Thon to paint little finger nails. I even had one mom offer to donate all the polish, remover, emery boards, and cotton balls. Maddie went on to ask if she could paint finger nails too. I promised to let her practice on me this summer in order to be ready for the back-to-school Hair-A-Thon in August. I am beyond proud of her. And I pray she can humbly and lovingly participate without turning into the diva like Hannah Montana, who she often likes to mimic.
"You know how our family sometimes takes care of babies whose parents are sick until that Mom or Dad can get better?"
"Yes."
"Well, that is foster care. When one family takes care of the children of another family until the parents of the children get better."
"Do the parents always get better?"
"Not always. You remember how we explained that McKenzie's birth mom and dad were very sick and weren't getting better? And we were asked if we would like to be McKenzie's forever family since her birth parents were in such bad shape? Well, that is called adoption from foster care."
"I know what adoption is, Mommy!"
"Yes, I know you know what adoption is but now you know what foster care is too. You know how good you and your sisters feel when you have your hair washed and combed? You know how pretty you feel? Not every kid in foster care lives in a home where the Mom knows how to wash and comb their hair."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. So those kids don't get to feel pretty like you and your sisters do. Mommy is arranging for a bunch of those kids in foster care to get their hair fixed at the beauty shop and feel beautiful! They'll get their hair washed and conditioned and the stylist can show their foster moms how to comb their hair like I comb yours. I wonder if there is anything else we could do for those little girls to make them feel pretty while they get their hair done."
"We could paint their finger nails."
And with that, Madison learned how to give. At her suggestion, I texted a handful of friends asking each one to spend an hour at the salon on the day of the Hair-A-Thon to paint little finger nails. I even had one mom offer to donate all the polish, remover, emery boards, and cotton balls. Maddie went on to ask if she could paint finger nails too. I promised to let her practice on me this summer in order to be ready for the back-to-school Hair-A-Thon in August. I am beyond proud of her. And I pray she can humbly and lovingly participate without turning into the diva like Hannah Montana, who she often likes to mimic.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Let's Go to the Movies!
Tonight was a wild one at our house tonight! Madison, McKenzie, and Morgan were thrilled to have next door neighbor, Sean, over to play tonight. There was a game of hide and seek, pizza in the kitchen, and eventually, a movie. Madison tells Sean to stand at the bottom of the stairs while she and McKenzie dressed for the show. The movie of the night, according to McKenzie, was Mommy I Shrunk the Honey. In actuality it was Honey I Shrunk the Kids.
So there stands Sean at the bottom of the staircase, waiting on the girls. He is sporting his usual attire of shorts, T-shirt, and flip flops. Something bright catches my eye at the top of the stairs. I turn to see McKenzie standing there, dressed in her finest sequences and black patent leather church shoes. While she slowly descends, Madison is singing "Let's Go to the Movies" from the musical Annie. Madison yells to Sean to take McKenzie's hand and escort her to her seat on the couch. To my shock, he follows her direction. And then comes back to meet Maddie at the bottom of the stairs!
So here she comes, Miss America Maddie, in her finest dress up outfit and white go-go boots from Halloween. Sean took her by the hand and sat her on the couch, at which point he flops down on the short couch and spreads out comfortably to watch the movie. Hysterical!
Sean is a great guy. He and Maddie were in the same class for kindergarten and first grade. He used to hate being the only boy on the cul-du-sac but now he doesn't mind so much. Sean is the only child of a wonderful couple next door and I am willing to bet their dinner hour is very calm and quiet. The poor kid could barely eat tonight for McKenzie yelling and laughing, Maddie waving her hands in his face to the point the kid is practically laying down in his chair to avoid being hit, and Morgan pooping up her back at the table. Sean was like, Gross! What is that smell?? God bless sweet Sean. He may never come back to our house for dinner again. I can guarantee he has never attended a finer or better dressed movie experience.
So there stands Sean at the bottom of the staircase, waiting on the girls. He is sporting his usual attire of shorts, T-shirt, and flip flops. Something bright catches my eye at the top of the stairs. I turn to see McKenzie standing there, dressed in her finest sequences and black patent leather church shoes. While she slowly descends, Madison is singing "Let's Go to the Movies" from the musical Annie. Madison yells to Sean to take McKenzie's hand and escort her to her seat on the couch. To my shock, he follows her direction. And then comes back to meet Maddie at the bottom of the stairs!
So here she comes, Miss America Maddie, in her finest dress up outfit and white go-go boots from Halloween. Sean took her by the hand and sat her on the couch, at which point he flops down on the short couch and spreads out comfortably to watch the movie. Hysterical!
Sean is a great guy. He and Maddie were in the same class for kindergarten and first grade. He used to hate being the only boy on the cul-du-sac but now he doesn't mind so much. Sean is the only child of a wonderful couple next door and I am willing to bet their dinner hour is very calm and quiet. The poor kid could barely eat tonight for McKenzie yelling and laughing, Maddie waving her hands in his face to the point the kid is practically laying down in his chair to avoid being hit, and Morgan pooping up her back at the table. Sean was like, Gross! What is that smell?? God bless sweet Sean. He may never come back to our house for dinner again. I can guarantee he has never attended a finer or better dressed movie experience.
Saturday, June 05, 2010
Racism - Up Close and Personal
Last night, Madison and McKenzie took part in a Parent's Night Out event at the place where McKenzie takes gymnastics. Kim and I were thrilled to get away for a nice dinner with our wonderful friend, Misty, and Morgan. We were seated in the back of our local Outback Steakhouse. I sat on one side of the table with Misty while Morgan and Kim were across from us. Not long after we were seated, an elderly couple entered the restaurant. The Hostess tried to seat them at the table next to us, but they said no and pointed to another table behind Kim. This seemed reasonable, rather than offensive, to me because I'm not crazy about sitting next to babies while I eat either.
Morgan, who has a fabulous career ahead of her as a Wal-Mart greeter, began waiving to the couple, calling Hi Nanny! She did this over and over and I was very surprised when neither husband nor wife even acknowledged Morgan with so much as a smile. A few minutes later, I noticed the husband staring at us so I smiled. He turned away. A few more minutes pass and he is staring again. This time I really smile and offer a little waive. Nothing.
I see the Hostess again, leading the way to the table next to ours for a white family with a sweet little baby boy. He was less than a year old and displayed little interaction with his parents. Suddenly, I see the elderly gentleman behind Kim making eyes at the little boy. The eyes turn into waives and coos to a completing oblivious baby.
And then it happens. The thing I have feared since the first day parenting a black child happened on a Friday night in Outback Steakhouse. I have always wondered how I would respond when it happened, and I always knew it would happen, but last night I learned that I respond in much the same way I respond in an emergency which is to freeze.
I sat facing my daughter and my wife, for all intensive purposes, at just the right moment to hear this elderly man say to his wife, "N*gger Baby" and nod at Morgan. I froze. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't even tell Kim what had just happened a few feet behind her. I sat there like a lump on a log in complete and total shock. I couldn't feel anything. Not shock. Not disgust. Not anger. Not rage. I was in shock. I wondered what I could possibly say to this 75-80 year old man that would make him change his mind about our daughter. And the truth of the matter is there isn't anything I could say.
I sat there thinking back on the days when I rented a small apartment in Hattiesburg from an old man and his wife on Morgan Drive. He was old and racist and he never missed an opportunity to drop the N bomb whenever he came over to repair something in the apartment. I would sit at the kitchen table as he fiddled with the air conditioner or unclogged a drain, thinking how close I was to exploding all over this man for his use of such a hateful, horrible word. I knew then there was nothing I could say to change his mind, the same way I couldn't change this racist man sitting in Outback on a Friday night.
I finished eating and continued to watch him watch us. Eventually, they finished their meal and stood up to leave. They had only walked a few feet from our table when I told Kim what happened. I was so afraid she was going to explode. While I despised what he said, I kept thinking how old he is, how frail. Kim's face turned bright red. She had me say it again to make sure she understood correctly. And then she stood up.
Uh oh. This wasn't going to be good.
Kim looked in either direction to determine which door the couple used to exit. She saw the back of his head through the window in the door closest to us and took off. I still couldn't feel anything but I was definitely thinking the police would probably be called. Kim is the fiercest of mother bears. You don't mess with her kids. Period.
Kim was gone for maybe 3 or 4 minutes as Misty and I contemplated the possible activity in the parking lot. Suddenly, she was in front of me, taking her seat across the table. She confronted the man in the parking lot, asking him if he had any questions he would like to ask her about our daughter since he clearly had an opinion on the situation. He denied saying anything about Morgan, saying it must have been someone else. Kim assured him she had the right person and wanted to point out to him the words of hate he just spoke were about a baby. A baby. Not someone who had caused injury or shame to his family. Not someone he had ever met or knew anything about. He looked at our daughter and could only see hate.
Kim is my hero. While I was frozen in place, she reacted calmly and directly. She addressed the situation immediately to the man's face. I am so proud of Kim and so proud to share this parenting journey with her. I stayed frozen for the rest of the night and began to feel the impact of his words today. It has bothered me more than I can say. I look at my children and see love, hope, promise, joy, and pride. I held my children next to my body in the pool today as we laughed and played in the hot sun, thinking how much I love them. I cannot even fathom the word hate in their presence. They are my whole world. How dare he speak such words of hate within a few feet of my miracle. How dare he see her as less than a Divine creation of the Lord God Almighty. How dare he see only her skin and not her spirit.
I won't ever forget Friday night at Outback. It may be a long time before I ever want to eat there again. I am fairly certain this old man has already forgotten the whole thing. I need to let it go. The problem is I can't let it go because I feel so sad every time I think about it. I need to work through it, process my feelings and reconcile the entire event. And I will. Maybe tomorrow.
Morgan, who has a fabulous career ahead of her as a Wal-Mart greeter, began waiving to the couple, calling Hi Nanny! She did this over and over and I was very surprised when neither husband nor wife even acknowledged Morgan with so much as a smile. A few minutes later, I noticed the husband staring at us so I smiled. He turned away. A few more minutes pass and he is staring again. This time I really smile and offer a little waive. Nothing.
I see the Hostess again, leading the way to the table next to ours for a white family with a sweet little baby boy. He was less than a year old and displayed little interaction with his parents. Suddenly, I see the elderly gentleman behind Kim making eyes at the little boy. The eyes turn into waives and coos to a completing oblivious baby.
And then it happens. The thing I have feared since the first day parenting a black child happened on a Friday night in Outback Steakhouse. I have always wondered how I would respond when it happened, and I always knew it would happen, but last night I learned that I respond in much the same way I respond in an emergency which is to freeze.
I sat facing my daughter and my wife, for all intensive purposes, at just the right moment to hear this elderly man say to his wife, "N*gger Baby" and nod at Morgan. I froze. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I couldn't even tell Kim what had just happened a few feet behind her. I sat there like a lump on a log in complete and total shock. I couldn't feel anything. Not shock. Not disgust. Not anger. Not rage. I was in shock. I wondered what I could possibly say to this 75-80 year old man that would make him change his mind about our daughter. And the truth of the matter is there isn't anything I could say.
I sat there thinking back on the days when I rented a small apartment in Hattiesburg from an old man and his wife on Morgan Drive. He was old and racist and he never missed an opportunity to drop the N bomb whenever he came over to repair something in the apartment. I would sit at the kitchen table as he fiddled with the air conditioner or unclogged a drain, thinking how close I was to exploding all over this man for his use of such a hateful, horrible word. I knew then there was nothing I could say to change his mind, the same way I couldn't change this racist man sitting in Outback on a Friday night.
I finished eating and continued to watch him watch us. Eventually, they finished their meal and stood up to leave. They had only walked a few feet from our table when I told Kim what happened. I was so afraid she was going to explode. While I despised what he said, I kept thinking how old he is, how frail. Kim's face turned bright red. She had me say it again to make sure she understood correctly. And then she stood up.
Uh oh. This wasn't going to be good.
Kim looked in either direction to determine which door the couple used to exit. She saw the back of his head through the window in the door closest to us and took off. I still couldn't feel anything but I was definitely thinking the police would probably be called. Kim is the fiercest of mother bears. You don't mess with her kids. Period.
Kim was gone for maybe 3 or 4 minutes as Misty and I contemplated the possible activity in the parking lot. Suddenly, she was in front of me, taking her seat across the table. She confronted the man in the parking lot, asking him if he had any questions he would like to ask her about our daughter since he clearly had an opinion on the situation. He denied saying anything about Morgan, saying it must have been someone else. Kim assured him she had the right person and wanted to point out to him the words of hate he just spoke were about a baby. A baby. Not someone who had caused injury or shame to his family. Not someone he had ever met or knew anything about. He looked at our daughter and could only see hate.
Kim is my hero. While I was frozen in place, she reacted calmly and directly. She addressed the situation immediately to the man's face. I am so proud of Kim and so proud to share this parenting journey with her. I stayed frozen for the rest of the night and began to feel the impact of his words today. It has bothered me more than I can say. I look at my children and see love, hope, promise, joy, and pride. I held my children next to my body in the pool today as we laughed and played in the hot sun, thinking how much I love them. I cannot even fathom the word hate in their presence. They are my whole world. How dare he speak such words of hate within a few feet of my miracle. How dare he see her as less than a Divine creation of the Lord God Almighty. How dare he see only her skin and not her spirit.
I won't ever forget Friday night at Outback. It may be a long time before I ever want to eat there again. I am fairly certain this old man has already forgotten the whole thing. I need to let it go. The problem is I can't let it go because I feel so sad every time I think about it. I need to work through it, process my feelings and reconcile the entire event. And I will. Maybe tomorrow.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Girls of Summer
Summer has officially begun! School is out after some special end-of-the-year events. McKenzie and Morgan are advancing to their next classroom setting for the summer. Nanny was here to celebrate Morgan's birthday and close out the school year with the kids. The neighborhood pool has officially opened. And I have a novel in my lap. Yes, it's hot and I am having those fantasies of living in Vermont for the summer, but hell, it's hot everywhere. Global warming stinks.
Today has been a tremendously relaxing day, thanks to Kim, who encouraged me to get myself going early this morning so we could hit the swimming pool before anyone else. I remember the days when I went to the pool with a towel. Looking at us today, it looks like we're preparing for nuclear fall out! The mini van was packed with noodles, floaties, towels, sunscreen, snacks, a cooler for water, goggles, and the kids, of course. Geesh! We played in the pool for 3 hours with friends, Dax and Payton. It was great fun and followed by even greater naps for all 3 kids.
I even had a chance to start my new novel, courtesy of Mom, called The Help. The story is set in Jackson, MS in the 1960's and the author is brilliant. She has the dialect spot on and I am super impressed. I haven't read a novel in ages and I am super excited about this one. Fantastic summer read!
So stay tuned for more updates on the Girls of Summer. McKenzie and Morgan head back to Mt. Sinai on Tuesday and Maddie will be home for the summer with us. Please pray for us. Just kidding. Hopefully we will have many adventures to share with you. Happy Summer!
Today has been a tremendously relaxing day, thanks to Kim, who encouraged me to get myself going early this morning so we could hit the swimming pool before anyone else. I remember the days when I went to the pool with a towel. Looking at us today, it looks like we're preparing for nuclear fall out! The mini van was packed with noodles, floaties, towels, sunscreen, snacks, a cooler for water, goggles, and the kids, of course. Geesh! We played in the pool for 3 hours with friends, Dax and Payton. It was great fun and followed by even greater naps for all 3 kids.
I even had a chance to start my new novel, courtesy of Mom, called The Help. The story is set in Jackson, MS in the 1960's and the author is brilliant. She has the dialect spot on and I am super impressed. I haven't read a novel in ages and I am super excited about this one. Fantastic summer read!
So stay tuned for more updates on the Girls of Summer. McKenzie and Morgan head back to Mt. Sinai on Tuesday and Maddie will be home for the summer with us. Please pray for us. Just kidding. Hopefully we will have many adventures to share with you. Happy Summer!
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Madison, The Author
Thursday we celebrated the debut of Madison's soon-to-be award winning book, Hollywood, with her first grade class. Her entire class was impressed with the creativity that went into the writing of the book and so were we. Praise the Lord there were no bus accidents, texting, or any other forms of abuse and/or neglect on the part of dear old Mommy. I am so proud of her and amazed by her imagination. I hope we can continue writing together through the summer.
So without further ado, here is Madison's presentation of Hollywood.
So without further ado, here is Madison's presentation of Hollywood.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Thank you Aunt Gail and Aunt Pat!
The birthday love keeps flowing as the birthday grows smaller in the rear view mirror. Morgan received birthday cards from two of her great aunts this week, enabling us to bring home an exciting addition to the collection of toys in the garage. Morgan is now the proud owner of a brand new tricycle! It will take some time to get the hang of peddling, but the girl is far from stationary even without the peddles. She had a blast last night cruising the living room before bed.
Nanny arrived yesterday, adding even more love to the birthday week celebration. I thought Nanny looked as happy as a pig in mud last night reading bedtime stories to the girls. Today we are going to the Author's Tea at Madison's school where her newly published book, Hollywood, will debut. I only pray there is no mention of my texting in this hardback publication for which we paid a few dollars. None the less, I am thrilled Mom can be here for the tea.
I am so happy to have Mom here. I know she is excited to be here as well. I hope we both feel the same way at the end of 10 days when she returns to Savannah. Having her here makes me feel peaceful and content. I hope I have the same affect on my own children some day. I can't tell you how much I enjoy spending time with Mom. Of course, she thinks I am brilliant and enormously talented and that goes a LONG way :) I am truly blessed to have such a mother.
Nanny arrived yesterday, adding even more love to the birthday week celebration. I thought Nanny looked as happy as a pig in mud last night reading bedtime stories to the girls. Today we are going to the Author's Tea at Madison's school where her newly published book, Hollywood, will debut. I only pray there is no mention of my texting in this hardback publication for which we paid a few dollars. None the less, I am thrilled Mom can be here for the tea.
I am so happy to have Mom here. I know she is excited to be here as well. I hope we both feel the same way at the end of 10 days when she returns to Savannah. Having her here makes me feel peaceful and content. I hope I have the same affect on my own children some day. I can't tell you how much I enjoy spending time with Mom. Of course, she thinks I am brilliant and enormously talented and that goes a LONG way :) I am truly blessed to have such a mother.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
The End of the First Grade
Only 2 weeks left of the first grade and Madison is looking forward to summer vacation. It has been a busy couple of weeks with choir performances and a field trip to the Nature Center. While it has been difficult having two parents unemployed at the same time, I am so thankful we have been available to be present for Maddie's events. Kim and I thoroughly enjoyed the Nature Center, a place we had never visited in Austin. I later came to discover this is where my friend, Evelyn, plans to have her ashes scattered. It is so peaceful and such a beautiful place. Here are just a few pictures from the day.
Maddie joined the choir this year and the big performance was a week or so ago. We were wrapped up in the performance when the fire alarm rang out through the school. The entire building was forced to evacuate in the middle of the concert. I was so disappointed for Maddie! It was later discovered that someone pulled the fire alarm in the hallway. The choir director made a point of telling the audience the fire department was dusting the alarm for finger prints, in hopes some little brother or sister would come clean. No one did; however, her comments made me think of the scene in Grease when the T-birds moon the cameras at the prom. The principal announces the footage is being sent to the FBI for identification. Too funny.
Maddie's #1 main man, Tim, came to the concert with daughter and great friend, Ellah. Maddie was beyond excited to see Tim there.
The week following the choir performance, the very brave music teacher took 110 kids on a choir tour around the city. Kim and I were able to catch up to the crowd at Whole Foods where Maddie sang her heart out. So cute!
Maddie joined the choir this year and the big performance was a week or so ago. We were wrapped up in the performance when the fire alarm rang out through the school. The entire building was forced to evacuate in the middle of the concert. I was so disappointed for Maddie! It was later discovered that someone pulled the fire alarm in the hallway. The choir director made a point of telling the audience the fire department was dusting the alarm for finger prints, in hopes some little brother or sister would come clean. No one did; however, her comments made me think of the scene in Grease when the T-birds moon the cameras at the prom. The principal announces the footage is being sent to the FBI for identification. Too funny.
Maddie's #1 main man, Tim, came to the concert with daughter and great friend, Ellah. Maddie was beyond excited to see Tim there.
The week following the choir performance, the very brave music teacher took 110 kids on a choir tour around the city. Kim and I were able to catch up to the crowd at Whole Foods where Maddie sang her heart out. So cute!
Standardized Testing
I took part in a 3 day seminar 2 years ago called Undoing Racism. This was my first taste of the debate on cultural bias in standardized testing. It made total sense to me that not everyone would have the same point of reference to take a right or wrong type of test. And then the issue came full circle last week when Kim and I sat with Madison's teacher reviewing her math scores from a recent standardized test. The teacher pointed out the questions Madison answered incorrectly and this one has to do with the duration of time. One of the questions looked like this:
How long does it take to brush my hair? A) 1 minute B) 1 hour C) 1 day
Madison answered B, but the correct answer, according to the key, was A.
In Maddie's life experience, brushing, or rather combing, her hair takes close to an hour and sometimes more. She has a lot of hair, all of it is curly, and she is black. For the white students, 1 minute is enough time to brush your hair. Not for the black students.
I think I will pay much more attention to this debate and how to best guide my #1 student. It really makes you think.
How long does it take to brush my hair? A) 1 minute B) 1 hour C) 1 day
Madison answered B, but the correct answer, according to the key, was A.
In Maddie's life experience, brushing, or rather combing, her hair takes close to an hour and sometimes more. She has a lot of hair, all of it is curly, and she is black. For the white students, 1 minute is enough time to brush your hair. Not for the black students.
I think I will pay much more attention to this debate and how to best guide my #1 student. It really makes you think.
Happy Birthday Morgan!
Two years ago today a miracle came into the world, but I didn't know it until 2 days later. Two years ago today I was just living life as the mother of two little girls and the wife of Kim. Professionally, I was burned out and facing the failure of my business. I was working at Starwood Hotels in the call center to make a few dollars and give my life some purpose. Two years ago today, I had no idea the biggest surprise of my life was on her way to my front door.
Morgan was born on a Friday and it was Sunday afternoon when the call came to announce her arrival. I was working at the call center when I received the message to call home immediately - emergency - everyone is ok. I hurried to the break room to call Kim who told me CPS woke her from a nap to ask if we were interested in bringing home a sister for Madison and McKenzie. I was in complete shock. I had no words. Kim didn't either. For me, the shock lasted all of 20 seconds and then the excitement set in.
Of course we would bring home a sister for the girls! I raced home to make the call with Kim, telling CPS to bring her home. We brought Maddie and McKenzie into our bedroom and shared the news. They were so excited! Our family changed forever a few minutes later and I thank God every single day we said yes to Morgan. She opened the door of my heart even wider than I thought possible and re-ordered every one of my priorities. Morgan is the greatest surprise I could ever hope to have.
And today we celebrated her second birthday with special friends.
Morgan was born on a Friday and it was Sunday afternoon when the call came to announce her arrival. I was working at the call center when I received the message to call home immediately - emergency - everyone is ok. I hurried to the break room to call Kim who told me CPS woke her from a nap to ask if we were interested in bringing home a sister for Madison and McKenzie. I was in complete shock. I had no words. Kim didn't either. For me, the shock lasted all of 20 seconds and then the excitement set in.
Of course we would bring home a sister for the girls! I raced home to make the call with Kim, telling CPS to bring her home. We brought Maddie and McKenzie into our bedroom and shared the news. They were so excited! Our family changed forever a few minutes later and I thank God every single day we said yes to Morgan. She opened the door of my heart even wider than I thought possible and re-ordered every one of my priorities. Morgan is the greatest surprise I could ever hope to have.
And today we celebrated her second birthday with special friends.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
All hail Sandra Bullock
I was sitting at the dining room table in front of the beautiful window that looks out onto our cul-du-sac when the news flash swept across my lap top - Sandra Bullock adopts baby from New Orleans. Woohoo! I immediately began to do the Happy Dance to learn a major celebrity had adopted a child within the United States! I carefully followed the adoption stories of Angelina Jolie and Madonna, who each adopted children from other countries amidst a few controversies. New Orleans is practically in my backyard! I was thrilled. I lowered my head over my nearly finished manuscript of Brown Babies Pink Parents and said a prayer, "Please, Lord, let him be black."
Moments later Kim calls to me from the living room, "Sandra Bullock adopted a black baby! Come see his picture on the TV!"
"Thank you, Jesus," I said with a heart filled with thanks and praise. This is exactly what we need to see in the media - positive images of transracial families. Nothing could be better for our organization, Parenting Across Color, or my upcoming book.
My inbox was flooded for the next few weeks with news stories and blogs about parenting across the color line. I have read every conceivable opinion on the issue. Transracial adoption is a hot topic these days and I am blown away by the misconceptions out there. The biggest one came from an adoption expert, Dr. Elias Lefferman of Vista Del Mar Family Services, who was interviewed for Entertainment Tonight's story on Sandra Bullock's adoption.
"Also, since baby Louis is African American and Sandra is Caucasian, Dr. Lefferman says that she will probably have gone through and will continue to go through training about transracial adoption in order for her to learn about sensitivity and exploring her son's heritage with him."
I would love to offer adoptive parents the opportunity to undergo training like Dr. Lefferman mentions! The fact there is very little training, if any, available to adoptive or foster parents is one of my missions in life. Our children deserve to have parents who understand their heritage and culture. Our kiddos should have parents who know how to care for their skin and hair. We need to prepare parents for what obstacles are coming without diminishing their enthusiasm. In writing Brown Babies Pink Parents, I interviewed numerous families from around the country about their experiences of transracial adoption. Just as I suspected, only 1 woman in Brooklyn, NY received any training to prepare her for the arrival of her son. Want to take a guess at the extent of the training? 1 hour.
To become a foster parent in the state of Texas, a person must complete a 6 week course entitled PRIDE. Granted, I completed the PRIDE training in 2002, but have been assured by dozens of newer parents the format has not changed any. The only mention given to me in PRIDE about parenting a child of a different ethnicity came when I was asked whether or not I would take a Jewish foster child to synagogue if I were a Christian. The answer was yes. However, in 8 years of fostering, I have yet to receive a Jewish placement in my home. I have parented 6 African American children over the years and learning to care for their hair and skin came through trial and error.
Thankfully, our family had Parenting Across Color to lean on for support. I learned to comb hair, came to understand and accept my white privilege, committed to find as many opportunities as possible for my children to be in the majority and the parents to be in the minority, and so much more. It takes a village to raise a child and certainly takes a village to successfully parent across the color line. Caucasian parents simply do not have the life skills or experiences necessary to show their African American children how to be black in America. In order to do so, I rely on the village. I have strategically assembled a village to serve as roll models for my brown babies. I don't know how to be a strong, black woman because I have never been, nor will I ever be, one.
Education and training are essential for white parents to successfully raise their black children. Love is not enough. While love may be colorblind, the world is not. The greatest gift we can give our kiddos is to see them for who they are - black and beautiful. The greatest tool we can give them are the skills to navigate the emotional intersection of race and adoption.
Dr.Lefferman, I would love to talk to you about ways to implement this type of training into adoption preparation classes around the country through both private and public agencies. Parenting Across Color is doing our best to fill in the gaps, but perhaps you can be part of the solution as well. Call me. E-mail me. I am ready to talk. I am prepared to brainstorm. I am more than willing to help other adoptive parents just like me who have the very best intentions and want to minimize the number of mistakes we will inevitably make in raising our children. Help me prepare adoptive families. Regardless of fame and fortune, Sandra Bullock will need the same training and support.
Moments later Kim calls to me from the living room, "Sandra Bullock adopted a black baby! Come see his picture on the TV!"
"Thank you, Jesus," I said with a heart filled with thanks and praise. This is exactly what we need to see in the media - positive images of transracial families. Nothing could be better for our organization, Parenting Across Color, or my upcoming book.
My inbox was flooded for the next few weeks with news stories and blogs about parenting across the color line. I have read every conceivable opinion on the issue. Transracial adoption is a hot topic these days and I am blown away by the misconceptions out there. The biggest one came from an adoption expert, Dr. Elias Lefferman of Vista Del Mar Family Services, who was interviewed for Entertainment Tonight's story on Sandra Bullock's adoption.
"Also, since baby Louis is African American and Sandra is Caucasian, Dr. Lefferman says that she will probably have gone through and will continue to go through training about transracial adoption in order for her to learn about sensitivity and exploring her son's heritage with him."
I would love to offer adoptive parents the opportunity to undergo training like Dr. Lefferman mentions! The fact there is very little training, if any, available to adoptive or foster parents is one of my missions in life. Our children deserve to have parents who understand their heritage and culture. Our kiddos should have parents who know how to care for their skin and hair. We need to prepare parents for what obstacles are coming without diminishing their enthusiasm. In writing Brown Babies Pink Parents, I interviewed numerous families from around the country about their experiences of transracial adoption. Just as I suspected, only 1 woman in Brooklyn, NY received any training to prepare her for the arrival of her son. Want to take a guess at the extent of the training? 1 hour.
To become a foster parent in the state of Texas, a person must complete a 6 week course entitled PRIDE. Granted, I completed the PRIDE training in 2002, but have been assured by dozens of newer parents the format has not changed any. The only mention given to me in PRIDE about parenting a child of a different ethnicity came when I was asked whether or not I would take a Jewish foster child to synagogue if I were a Christian. The answer was yes. However, in 8 years of fostering, I have yet to receive a Jewish placement in my home. I have parented 6 African American children over the years and learning to care for their hair and skin came through trial and error.
Thankfully, our family had Parenting Across Color to lean on for support. I learned to comb hair, came to understand and accept my white privilege, committed to find as many opportunities as possible for my children to be in the majority and the parents to be in the minority, and so much more. It takes a village to raise a child and certainly takes a village to successfully parent across the color line. Caucasian parents simply do not have the life skills or experiences necessary to show their African American children how to be black in America. In order to do so, I rely on the village. I have strategically assembled a village to serve as roll models for my brown babies. I don't know how to be a strong, black woman because I have never been, nor will I ever be, one.
Education and training are essential for white parents to successfully raise their black children. Love is not enough. While love may be colorblind, the world is not. The greatest gift we can give our kiddos is to see them for who they are - black and beautiful. The greatest tool we can give them are the skills to navigate the emotional intersection of race and adoption.
Dr.Lefferman, I would love to talk to you about ways to implement this type of training into adoption preparation classes around the country through both private and public agencies. Parenting Across Color is doing our best to fill in the gaps, but perhaps you can be part of the solution as well. Call me. E-mail me. I am ready to talk. I am prepared to brainstorm. I am more than willing to help other adoptive parents just like me who have the very best intentions and want to minimize the number of mistakes we will inevitably make in raising our children. Help me prepare adoptive families. Regardless of fame and fortune, Sandra Bullock will need the same training and support.
Sunday, May 09, 2010
Mother's Day in the 21st Century
Today is Mother's Day and I am having a grand time. I was able to sleep late, take a wonderful walk alone with my own thoughts and prayers, had a wonderful brunch prepared by my honey, received flowers from my girls, and beautiful cards - some store bought and others made by hand. I feel loved.
I didn't feel so loved a few days ago when Kim and I attended Madison's last parent/teacher conference of the 1st grade. As we stood waiting outside the classroom for her teacher, we read the stories displayed on the wall in the hall. We gathered the assignment was to write a story about a time when you were injured or hurt. We read several before we came to Maddie's. And I nearly died.
Madison wrote a story, complete with pictures, about the time she was hit by a bus while I was texting. She apparently broke bones in her whole body and was rushed to the hospital to be filled with air again. After she recovered from being hit by a bus, I sent her home with a policeman to babysit.
Kim was laughing. I could hear that clearly, but my heart was racing and my stomach was in knots. Was I really reading this horrible account of an event that never took place in the public hallway of the public school? Yes, I am a foster parent, a safe haven for traumatized children, and my own child is accussing me of allowing her to be hit by a BUS! I couldn't breathe.
The absence of air was apparent to the teacher, who immediately assured me Madison wrote a piece of fiction. You're damn right it's a piece of fiction! My child has NEVER been hit by a bus as a result of my texting and I have NEVER sent her home with a stranger to babysit! I was horrified! Her teacher went on to tell us how creative Madison is. No kidding! How could I leave this hanging on the wall outside the classroom for God and everyone to read when all the other children wrote non-fiction pieces??!!??
Between Kim and the teacher, I calmed down. I was actually able to listen to the wonderful stories of progress Madison has made during the 1st grade. I was pleased to see her journal entries and reading comprehension scores. She is still struggling in math, but we have lined up a tutor for the summer to keep her on target. I was actually feeling good about our meeting and had nearly forgotten about the bus incident.
As we walk out of the classroom, I see the parents of Madison's friend, Lilah, standing in the hallway. They have the next appointment with the teacher. It takes all of 30 seconds to realize they are not just standing in the hallway, but laughing in the hallway. Yes, laughing at Madison's story the way Kim had laughed and I had gasped.
I'm glad I could give other parents a good chuckle. Believe me, this is one writing sample I will never forget! Just like the time I told my pre-school teacher that my dad wore a nightgown to bed after reading The Night Before Christmas for the first time. I am sure that pre-school teacher was thinking pretty and lacy rather than long and cotton like in the book. Oh well, Madison and I share a flare for creativity and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Happy Mother's Day!
I didn't feel so loved a few days ago when Kim and I attended Madison's last parent/teacher conference of the 1st grade. As we stood waiting outside the classroom for her teacher, we read the stories displayed on the wall in the hall. We gathered the assignment was to write a story about a time when you were injured or hurt. We read several before we came to Maddie's. And I nearly died.
Madison wrote a story, complete with pictures, about the time she was hit by a bus while I was texting. She apparently broke bones in her whole body and was rushed to the hospital to be filled with air again. After she recovered from being hit by a bus, I sent her home with a policeman to babysit.
Kim was laughing. I could hear that clearly, but my heart was racing and my stomach was in knots. Was I really reading this horrible account of an event that never took place in the public hallway of the public school? Yes, I am a foster parent, a safe haven for traumatized children, and my own child is accussing me of allowing her to be hit by a BUS! I couldn't breathe.
The absence of air was apparent to the teacher, who immediately assured me Madison wrote a piece of fiction. You're damn right it's a piece of fiction! My child has NEVER been hit by a bus as a result of my texting and I have NEVER sent her home with a stranger to babysit! I was horrified! Her teacher went on to tell us how creative Madison is. No kidding! How could I leave this hanging on the wall outside the classroom for God and everyone to read when all the other children wrote non-fiction pieces??!!??
Between Kim and the teacher, I calmed down. I was actually able to listen to the wonderful stories of progress Madison has made during the 1st grade. I was pleased to see her journal entries and reading comprehension scores. She is still struggling in math, but we have lined up a tutor for the summer to keep her on target. I was actually feeling good about our meeting and had nearly forgotten about the bus incident.
As we walk out of the classroom, I see the parents of Madison's friend, Lilah, standing in the hallway. They have the next appointment with the teacher. It takes all of 30 seconds to realize they are not just standing in the hallway, but laughing in the hallway. Yes, laughing at Madison's story the way Kim had laughed and I had gasped.
I'm glad I could give other parents a good chuckle. Believe me, this is one writing sample I will never forget! Just like the time I told my pre-school teacher that my dad wore a nightgown to bed after reading The Night Before Christmas for the first time. I am sure that pre-school teacher was thinking pretty and lacy rather than long and cotton like in the book. Oh well, Madison and I share a flare for creativity and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Happy Mother's Day!
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