Dear Sugars: Aggressive vs. Assertive

Dear Sugars,

Do you remember that cheer from the 90s?  "Be AGGRESSIVE!  BE-E AGGRESSIVE!"

(You are welcome for getting that stuck in your head for the whole day.)

Let's talk about aggressiveness.

If you haven't already faced a lot of questions about your family makeup, you will.  Adoption brings out people's inner detective.  They simply MUST know why you didn't have your "own" children, how much you paid to adopt your child, if your kids are "real" siblings, what country your kids are from, and the social and medical history of your child's biological parents.

I recall last year when my family and I were exiting a row of seats after my middle child's basketball game.  A woman approached me, blocking us from leaving the aisle.  Her face was mere inches from mine.

The interrogation began.  

Lady:  "Are your kids real siblings?"

Me:  "Um, yes."

Lady:  "But are they really real siblings?"

Me:  "Yes."

Lady:  "Did you adopt them at the same time?"

Me:  Pauses to look down.  My daughters are on either side of me, brown eyes imploring, ears listening.  

Me to lady:  "That's really none of your business."



Whoa.  That's the first time I had ever said that to someone.  But for some reason, I felt like I HAD to.  It took some courage, but it just felt, well, right.  

Lady to my oldest:  "Do you like getting your hair done?  It's so pretty!"

Me:  Moves forward, thereby forcing the lady to allow us to exit.   I had to do this before I went all un-Jesus on her.

Later, I asked my girls if they heard what happened.  My oldest seemed uninterested, but my four-year-old said, "You told that lady it was none of her business."

They were listening. They were learning.  They were observing.

That day I learned something important about responding to people.   There's a difference between being aggressive vs. assertive.

Aggressive is antagonizing.  It invites unrest, discord.  It encourages battle, more opinions.  Aggressive is selfish.  It's about release, one-upping, and "winning."  It's about insulting and diminishing.

Assertive is about being confident.  It's about ending the conversation on your terms and the terms that are best for the children.  It invites closure, peace, honesty, and strength.   It puts the person in their place without putting them down.

I know people are curious.  I know they don't know all the right words and terminology.  But my job as a mother isn't to pat the bottoms of strangers and give them the warm fuzzies.   My obligation is to my children.

Thus, I teach them that their voice and feels and stories matter.  They matter so much, that I'm not handing their stories out like grandma's hand out cookies.   Privacy is ok.   Telling adults "nope" is ok.  Standing up for your personal rights is ok.  And until they are old enough to do it themselves, I'm certainly going to do it for them.

As women, we often feel the need to be kind, apologetic, and polite.  We don't want to be deemed rude, bitchy, or moody.  We are expected, still in 2016, to be gentle with the feelings of others.  I invite you to consider what's more important:  your child's well-being or another person's perception of you.

The next time you are confronted by someone and their tone, their question or comment, their gesture (such as trying to touch your child's braids) is inappropriate, offensive, and/or intrusive (even if it's not their intention), I want you to remember that you are the mother.  You are instilling in your children that they matter.

Instead of doing nothing (passive), or being aggressive, try this:

Be assertive!  Be-e assertive!

You won't regret it!


----

For more on race and adoption, please follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.   I have five books available on Amazon.

School and Adoption Sensitivity: Adoption Talk Link-Up

Before I became a stay-at-home-mom/writer, I taught college writing for eight years.  During these eight years, I learned a lot about what my students needed and how I, as their teacher, could provide those things for them to ensure they had the best learning experience possible.    Compound this education with becoming a mom by adoption (x3), and I've figured out that there are some things I need to do for my children's teachers, in terms of adoption, to make sure my kids have a great school year.

My second daughter, a preschooler, is being homeschooled this year.  As you've probably noticed, I've shared about this a lot in the past month, with the publication of my new homeschooling book.

My oldest daughter attended half-day kindergarten (at a public school) last year, and she is now in full day first grade at the same school.   It is important to me, always to protect my kids' personal adoption stories, but there are some things I feel the teachers need to know, including:

• Adoption is an open conversation in our home.  There are no secrets.  Therefore, the child may choose to freely talk about adoption at school.   However, we've empowered our child to know she doesn't have to answer questions about her adoption if she chooses not to.  
• Adoption is obviously how we built our family, but we aren't an "adoptive family."  We are a family.
• Adoption is complex and bittersweet.  If questions or concerns arise, please ask me!  
• I'll happily provide resources for the classroom or school library; this includes adoption resources and resources created by/featuring African Americans.  
• We refer to birth siblings and "siblings," therefore, you might here my child mention names of kids who aren't in our family.  
• We have open adoptions, so our child may talk about visits or communication with her biological family.  
• Sometimes my child may struggle with separation or transitions.  This might because of adoption, and it may not be.  But either way, I want you to be aware of it.   I let the teacher know the best way to help my child with times of separation or transition.  (For us, it's hugs.)
• School projects that involve the child's earliest days or biological information aren't difficult for us, as we adopted our kids at birth and have a lot of their information; however, these projects might need to be tailored at times to fit our unique family dynamic (and the different family dynamics of other classmates).  Please be flexible and let us adjust the assignments as needed.   For example, we don't really have a family tree.  It's more like a family orchard.  

What would you add? 

---
for more goodness this week, please check out my articles:

My Black Girls Need More Disney Princesses Who Look Like Him

5 Things I Did for my Kindergartner That I Won't Be Doing Again This Year

5 Reasons Why Kids Who Were Adopted May Benefit From Homeschooling

An InLinkz Link-up

Angry White Woman

Recently, my article on professionals not being so professional when it comes to adoptive families spurred a lot of buzz.  Are adoptive moms like me just too damn sensitive?  Or are we chronic defenders of our rights and the privacy our children deserve?  Should we just shut up and take whatever the world hands us, with a smile and a nod?  Or should we spend our energies fighting particular battles, demanding justice, and disagreeing with those who disrespect our families?

Here are some of my truths:

---My kids aren't poster children for adoption.  They are just my kids.  They didn't ask to be adopted.  They didn't ask to have white parents.  But their birth parents chose for us to be their parents, and we are honored to have the privilege.  My children aren't required to be anything but children. 

---I will and am teaching my children that it is ok to stand up for themselves and others when they are being treated unjustly.  It's ok to tell you, a random adult, "no" when they trying to harm my kids in any way.  It's ok to refuse to satisfy the curiosity of adults who abuse their positions of power to satisfy their personal curiosities.   My kids don't have to let you "pet" their hair.  My kids don't have to answer you when you ask, AGAIN, if they are "real" siblings. 

---I will, without shame or embarrassment or guilt or uncertainty, teach my children about their history as African Americans.  We will celebrate Black History Month, MLK's birthday, Juneteenth.  We will have Black Santa ornaments on our tree.  We will talk about slavery.  We will subscribe to Ebony and Essence.  We will celebrate their race, not disguise it in the name of "colorblindness." 

---I will give my children opportunities to foster a healthy racial identity.  This means, for us, having a mentor for our older two children and having a diverse group of friends.  (The research done on adult transracial adoptees says that where adoptive parents went wrong was not connecting their children with people of the children's same race so the opportunity for meaningful relationships could develop.)  I will have their hair professionally cut and braided, as well as take care of their hair myself.  And I will also let my kids be who they are, without trying to alter them to fit any mold. 

---The idea of talking about race and intentionally fostering my children's racial identity makes some really uncomfortable.  (Even seeing my family makes some people really uncomfortable!) Your comfort isn't my concern.  I'm mothering my children and celebrating who they are (their personalities, their feelings, their talents, and yes, their race).  I'm working diligently to teach them how to grow into independent, strong, compassionate, passionate, loving adults who value justice, equality, love, and challenges.  I want them to know that first and foremost, they are loved and created by God, that they were created to do divine things with their lives, and that we, their parents, will do anything to help them achieve their best.   My concern is not helping you stop feeling guilty about race, pacify your curiosity, or coddle your rudeness. 

---I'm doing a good job.  I know mothers aren't supposed to be self-affirming.  I know we are supposed to feel guilty and uncertain and overwhelmed.  (I'm not immune; I feel these things at times, sometimes in long seasons.)  But I know that God has put people in my life to boost me up: to inspire, to support, to cheer.  I know that my children are ok.  Not just ok, but awesome.  They are smart and talented and beautiful and funny.  They have some great nurture and some great nature.

Listen, I do worry a lot about colorism (my middle daughter is very dark-skinned) and racism + sexism (my son, a black boy).  My heart breaks for the young men and their families who are ripped apart by adults with guns who treat black boys like aggressive men.  I cheer when I see accomplished African Americans.  I point these stories out to my children.   I can't stand the term and concept of "colorblindness."

I want adults to act like adults.  Not turn every thought into words.  Not insist that my family prove ourselves, that my children make them feel better about adoption or race or both.  

You don't hear me ask a person in a wheelchair why he or she is wheelchair bound.  You don't hear me asking a person who is overweight if he or she has an over-eating issue or a metabolic disorder.  Because it's none of my damn business.   And because it doesn't matter.

My kids are people.  As Dr. Seuss said, so wisely, "A person's a person no matter how small."

So yes, when people question my children, when the news reports another senseless murder of a black boy, when I'm asked to produce "proof" of my family's authenticity, my mama bear comes out. 

Label it angry white woman if you want.

But I'd rather go through life knowing I stood up to wrongness rather than coddled it.   I'd rather be the one who defends rather than cowers.  I'd rather be the one who stands strong versus falling down.  I'd rather be the mother my children need than the white person you prefer, the one who pretends color doesn't exist and that we live in a post-racial society where we've all just "gotten over" race.

At times, yes, I'm angry.  And I'm always white and a woman.  But I'm not going to fit the mold that makes you comfortable. 

Because I'm too busy bringing up babies who are going to do great things. 

It's Not Enough to Just Braid Hair: On Taking Chances and Making Friends

On a Transracial Adoption FB group I frequent, an adoptive mother brought up an excellent point:  Do White transracial adoptive parents focus too much on things like hair, and Black history, and soul food, and Kwanzaa, etc., and not enough on developing meaningful relationships with people of color?  

If you've never had a real relationship with a person of color, and your only education about people of color is from BET and the NBA and the evening news, you might be White.   And you might be intimidated.   Aren't a lot of Black men criminals?  Job-less?  Fathering three babies in one year with three different women?  Aren't Black women curvy and really loud and have some sort of thing about their hair?  Aren't Black kids sort of suspicious?   Aren't the majority of welfare recipients Black?   (Way to go, media...)

Like, how do you do it?  How do you befriend someone you are scared of and intimated by?

Is it racial-targeting to purposefully seek out and attempt to befriend people of color for the benefit of yourself and your adopted child?

What if you are laughed at, ignored, or worse, rejected? 

What if it's just easier to focus on things we can find out about elsewhere---an online message board, or a blog, or a book (like from anywhere but from conversations with people of color)?  

Here's the deal.

You chose to adopt transracially.

You chose to become a parent.

(You didn't choose the easy route).

You know what you need to do.

So, are you going to do it?

You might be a quiet, private person.  Or you might be someone whose not all that educated on politically correct language.  You might be a person who is very fearful of rejection.  You might be someone who feels a bit overwhelmed with transracial adoption.  You might be sensitive.  You might be timid.  You might be easily embarrassed.  

But transracial adoption isn't about you.  (Hint:  It's about the little person next to you).

But it does, often, start with you.

Without risk, there is little reward.

You, adoptive parents, you have to get over yourselves.  You have to do what is best for your children.   And in doing so, you might learn a thing or two and form some really great friendships.

It's like this.  Say your child contracted a horrible disease.  There was a cure, but it would require you do something you are terrified of doing.   Would you not face your fears to save your child?

I'm going to be cliche here and say:  practice makes perfect.

The more you reach out, the more likely you are to hear "yes."  

"You miss 100% of the shots you don't take." 

I understand that the media makes is really difficult for Whites to feel they can trust, like, or even love an adult person of color.     For hundreds of years, people of color have been isolated, mistrusted, wrongfully persecuted and judged, harshly scrutinized. 

You are, as my mother taught me, in charge of yourself and your children.  Your kids are trusting you to make the right decisions for them.   To embrace possibilities.   To take chances.  To confront your own fears, prejudices, and skepticism.

I have found that when I began to push my fears aside (and still do), I was able to find treasures that exceeded my hopes.    The friends of color that I have made have enriched my life beyond what I could have imagined.  They have blessed me with knowledge and advice and encouragement.   I am more blessed than ever.  I'm developing authentic, kindred relationships with people because I took a chance and said hello.  

Try it.

Check It: Adoption Isn't Always Blissful + Resources

Check out my guest blog post over at I Am Not the Babysitter (my new fave blog!).

And, if your little one is heading to school for the first time (or returning), Adoptive Families has some fabulous tips/resources for you! 

Happy weekend!

Saying No is Really a Way of Saying Yes

I've learned the art of saying no from a good friend.    It's not easy to learn, as women tend to be quite prideful in saying how busy they are; we post it on Facebook, we gripe to fellow moms in the stands at our kids' baseball games; we complain to our husbands.  Being busy has become glorified, in a twisted sort of way. 

As my father taught me long ago, being busy doesn't equal productivity.

How's your busyness resume?   How often are you home vs. running around like a "chicken with their head cut off"?    How much free time do your children have?   How's your weight?  Your mental health?  Your nutrition?   Is your home fairly tidy/clean, or is it in perpetual state of disaster?     How do you feel when you get into bed each night and get up each morning?  How's your children's moods?  How's your marriage?  Your friendships?   Are you taking time to communicate with God?  

Are you happy?  Is it well with your soul?

I've been thinking a lot about these things lately.   My children are 4.5, 2.5, and 4 months.   My oldest is a year away from preparing to be in kindergarten.  This might mean homework.   And a desire to be in an after school activity.    And more birthday parties.     And then, just a few years behind her is child #2 and then child #3.   

I have to make sure I'm taking deep breaths just typing this...because I fear becoming a parent whose week is consumed/dominated by children's activities.    Will I get sucked in?  And if yes, will I make it out?

I was reading a magazine article the other day that profiled a few women who had made significant changes in their lives.  One women said that her big change was saying no---a lot, loudly, and without regret.    Her goal was to be mentally present with her family.  Saying yes to every opportunity (grand or rather undesirable) meant her mind would be elsewhere.

Personally, I struggle greatly with being somewhere else.    It's partially my creative mind.  I'm always thinking of another book idea, another article to write, something I forgot, something I need to still accomplish that day, the laundry that needs to be moved from the washer to the drier, the friend I haven't talked to in ages.    And then, of course, there's the new business.   And deeper questions like what I need to be doing to improve my marriage, how I'm going to find a reliable sitter for my children, if I should go back to teaching in the fall or not, how to get my blood sugars under even tighter control...

So, now I'm thinking about what areas of my life need more focus, and what needs to be let go and/or being told "no."

Some helpful books to get you started, ones I'm the midst of, include The Mission of Motherhood, Desperate, and Out of the Spin Cycle.

So onto that obligation stuff.   Everyone seems to want a piece of you.    And it starts, hands down, with your children.  They are NEEEEEDDDDYYYYY.    Any mom can testify that by about six at night, you are touched out.    Because whether you work or stay at home with your kids, you've been touched by them A LOT in the minutes you've been with them.    Then your church wants you to join another Bible study or serve on a ministry team.  And you need to sit down with your husband and pay bills.  And your boss has just demanded that you pick up the pace and get your projects done....so you can take on more projects.   And your child's teacher needs you do a few projects.    Can you join the PTA?, begs one of your friends who is desperate for some help.    Fund raise for that club your kid is in!   The list is a mile-long.

Is it fair to say no?   Is it ok to say no?   How will you feel if you say no?   What will you do with time you are given when you say no? 

(Think about it....are you saying yes out of fear of what others will think, of what you will think about yourself, out of fear of what you will do if you have a few spare minutes every day?   What's holding you back from saying no?)

Right now, I'm the minority:  somewhat by default and somewhat by choice.   For one, I've been getting pretty good at saying no, even when the opportunity is something I'd really like to seize.   For another, my kids are not quite at the age where things are getting crazy.

So, how do you know when it's ok to say no?

• Is the opportunity worth the trade-off?  What will you have to give up in order to give your time, money, and effort toward the opportunity?   (Be honest with yourself and realistic).
• Is the opportunity something that appeals to you?  (It is NOT selfish to give your few yeses to what you truly have a heart for.  God gave each person gifts and talents and inclinations to be used for His glory.  If you are taking time to do that which isn't appealing to your gifts, you are giving up on what God might be having you do instead)
• What are your priorities?   Make a list.  Yep.  Do it.  On a piece of paper.    Does the opportunity fall in line with your list?
• What will this opportunity teach my children and spouse?   Yes, they may not be present at whatever it is you say yes to, but they will learn that X leaves mom tired/hungry/moody/deprived or it leaves mom energized/thankful/blessed/nourished.  
• Is the opportunity something you are using to look good to others?  Are you thinking of saying yes in order to not hurt someone else's feelings or to avoid the confrontation of saying no?  Are you saying yes in order to pridefully proclaim that you are sooooo busy with yet another activity?

How to say no:

• First, it's ok to tell the asker that you'll need a few days/weeks to think about the opportunity.   Let the person know you'll get back to him/her by X date.
• Second, revisit the above questions. 
• Third, when you decide to say no, do not feel that you must justify/explain.   It's fine to simply say with confidence and kindness, "Thanks for thinking of me.   I'm saying no this time."     If you ramble on about your reasoning, it gives the person the opportunity to express dismay/anger/hurt feelings and question your motives or ask you to justify/validate.     There is no need for this and only creates the drama you wished to avoid.  If you think you might consider a similar opportunity in the future, it's fine to say, "Keep in mind the next time you need someone."

We don't need to fill every moment of our lives with something.    The best things happen spontaneously, without calendars or cell phones or adults barking out directions or instructions.

Carpe Diem.   It happens intentionally.

Dear Family, Friends, Neighbors, Co-Workers: What To Say, and What Not to Say, When You Learn Someone You Know is Adopting

When someone announces he/she is adopting, it's a BIG deal.

Adopting is a huge step in a person's life.     It's scary, it's confusing, it's bittersweet, it's exciting.  

I dare to make this comparison:  it's like learning you are pregnant (or that you impregnated someone, for any male readers out there). 

There are so many unknowns, so few certainties.

So, here's what you can say when someone drops the adoption news on you:

---"How exciting!  I'm so happy for you!"
---"Congratulations!"
---"I can't wait to plan your baby/child shower!"
---"That's great!  What do you anticipate that journey looking like?"
---"You will be a great mom/dad."

What not to say:
---"Why?  Can you not have your own kids?" (the adoptist)
---"Have you tried IVF?" (the adoptist, round II)
---"Are you sure that's a good decision?" (the pessimist)
---"Isn't adoption really expensive?" (the nosy)
---"Don't all adopted kids have problems?" (the worrywart)
---"You'll get pregnant as soon as you adopt, I bet!" (the optimist)
---"Aren't you scared the birth parents will try to get the child back?" (the pessimist, round II)
---"Oh!  Any child would be so lucky to have you as his/her mom/dad!"  or "There are so many needy children who need good homes!" (the stereotype-lover)
---"Awww!  Are you going to get one of those little Black babies from Africa?" (the optimist-gone-wrong)

Let me assure you:
---I don't know of a single adoptive parent who didn't/doesn't take adoption seriously.
---I don't know of a single adoptive parent who hasn't struggled in some way in their journey to choosing adoption, adopting, or parenting adopted children.
---Adoption isn't second-best to having biological kids.   It's just different.
---Adoption is life-altering, but it can be wonderfully rewarding.

Before you speak,
pause
take a deep breath
and think about how you would want someone to respond to your pregnancy news...

What if you announced a pregnancy, for example.  

It'd be best for your family member/friend/neighbor/co-worker not to cite stats on how many pregnancies end in miscarriage, or how likely it is that the child could have a certain disease or condition, or make comments about unsightly stretch marks and weight gain, or talk about how horrible childbirth is.     It's best not to ask the nitty-gritty details of the night conception occurred or ask if the pregnancy was intentional or not.   It's best not to ask about the person's readiness to become a parent.

So when someone you know announces he/she is adopting:

Just smile.

Say something nice, non-threatening, and non-nosy.

If he/she wants you to know more, you'll know.  

If you want to know more, do some research on your own, or ask the person for resources.

Be supportive.

Adoption is a difficult journey, and adoptive parents need encouragement.

My Plate is Too Full, and I've About Had It!

As I reported Wednesday, I'm just feeling agitated this week.  Tired.   Flustered.  

This is the time in the semester when life goes from hectic to downright crazy.   This week I conducted approximately 35 student conferences ranging from 10-20 minutes each.     In a few weeks, I'll receive 35 papers ranging from about 5-12 pages each.    After I grade and return those essays, I will grade 16 more papers from one class, plus 35 presentations.   

Here's the thing:  I love teaching.  I do.  I love learning about the students, I love embracing their passion for their research topics.    I learn about their families, their hobbies, their future careers, their struggles.    Writing is often intimate, and it's always a messy process.    But it's fabulous.     The best part of my job is seeing a student go from uncertain, confused, and down to confident, clear, and upbeat.  

The downside is that teaching involves grading.  Lots and lots and lots of grading.    Most of my work is done at home:   replying to e-mails, administrative odds-and-ends, prepping for class, posting documents to our course management system, and, yes, grading.   (Did I mention grading?)

So I'm teaching two classes, finishing my book (MY BOOK!!!), managing my home, caring for my daughters, running errands, and trying to be a decent wife, friend, daughter, and sister.  

Too much part-time stuff is going on. 

I used to believe that working part-time was the best of both worlds.  I'm both a stay-at-home-mom and a working-mom.  I can relate to women in both "camps."    I don't have to be either or, I get to be both.   Straddle the fence.

When my girls go down for their afternoon nap (and thank God my nearly-four-year-old still naps), I frantically begin to get done as much as possible:  grade, do some chores, make necessary phone calls, respond to student e-mails, read my devotional, take a shower, revise my book chapters, check all my online accounts (e-mail, Facebook, etc.).    

But all I really want to do is take a nap.  Or sit and read a magazine.    Or sprawl out on the grass and soak up some sunshine.

But I can't.   I won't let myself chill out.

DESPITE the fact that I know, I KNOW, how important it is to my health (to any person's health) to spend time doing nothing.   Because doing nothing is actually doing something...it's giving your body the rest, the peace, that it needs to live, not just survive.

Right now I'm questioning if continuing to work part-time is not only unrealistic when baby #3 arrives but even next semester if we haven't adopted again yet and I have my two girls.     I'm just tired of feeling divided, and I know when I feel this way, something has got to give or else no one gets the best of me, myself included!

It's the age-old battle:  stay at home and make no money (except off book royalties) or work (make money) and feel a constant level of stress (sometimes low, sometimes moderate, sometimes high) which impacts every area of my life.

And it's even harder for me to decide because I love my job.   But the requirements are getting to me, especially the grading.

I don't want to brush off my girls.  I don't want to answer their questions while my eyes are tied to a computer screen, trying to respond to another student's e-mail.    I want my girls to know that when they respond to someone, eye contact and listening ears are essential.     I'm modeling some pretty crappy behavior right now, and I know it.

I can take a year off work and not lose my seniority, I recently discovered.   I had planned on taking a semester off when we get our next child, but a year....a year?      In a year, I could promote my book, spend hours playing with my kids, chill out some, learn to coupon better, exercise more, begin writing articles again, and do so many things that are on my "someday" list.

This is one of those posts where I'm really not sure where I'm going or what I'm trying to convey.   I'm writing this for my own benefit----I'm trying to sort things out.

I'd love to hear from you.   Where are you at in your life right now?   What needs eliminating?   What choices are you struggling with?  

Adoptive Mama Thoughts

Today while I was getting my daily dose of encouragement (via reading a fab book, checking out recommended Bible verses, and praying) the thought crossed my mind that it's quite likely that somewhere there is a woman who is pregnant with our baby.

Adoption is always on my mind.   This weekend we watched The Avengers followed by October Baby.     What do the two films have in common?

Well, in The Avengers, one character is discussing his brother with a group of friends.  One character mentions the brother's faults, and the initial character says, "He's adopted."    GRRRR!    Adoptism!

October Baby is a film about an adoptee who discovers, as a young college student, that she was adopted.  She tries to find her birth mother.   I don't want to say much else and spoil the film for you, but unlike most Christian films, this one really wasn't corny or cheesy or obviously low-budget.   I found it to be fairly accurate and moving. 

Last week I also stopped pumping (see last post), I've been e-mailing the social worker about our homestudy, and I've been cleaning out and organizing our adoption paperwork from past adoptions.

Whew.

Honestly, this week I've been off my game.    I feel agitated, impatient, and a bit, well, just off.     Tired.   Anxious.   

When I start to put the focus on myself (my feelings about adoption, for example), something inevitably happens that reminds me to stop.  Breathe.  Think.

There's another person out there, someone who is facing an extraordinarily difficult choice:  parent or place.      

That someone is the birth mother of our future child.

She may be pregnant right now, or not yet, or she may have already had a baby she's going to place.

So many unknowns.

But what I know is this:

I'm incredibly fortunate that we can afford to adopt.

I'm incredibly fortunate to have the children I do.

I'm incredibly fortunate that I have the privilege of praying for a mother and a baby I have yet to meet.

And I'm incredibly selfish to put the focus on myself. 

----

What are you thinking about today?  Any humbling adoption thoughts?  Emotions?  Where are you at today, friend?

What's the Magic Number? Or, In Other Words, What Is The Limit?

We are often asked, "When are you adopting again?" or "Are you adopting again?"

(It's sort of like asking a couple who can have bio kids, "When are you gonna get it on and conceive another baby?"  Ok, not quite...)

I don't know what our magic number is.   I'm really open to God's plan for our family.   I often feel the nudge to pursue foster care adoption---but we've been told that we wouldn't be approved for kids older than our children.  I really considered adopting an African American sibling group----a triple minority in the foster care system:  black, siblings (multiples), and older (age).   Sigh.

But as always, domestic infant adoption tugs at our hearts, because we've done it twice.  We feel prepared and comfortable to do DIA again.    And there's a bit of relief when it comes to parenting a child who comes to us so young.   Birth order isn't disrupted.   Breathe.

I doubt we'll ever adopt internationally.  It's too hard to do with our jobs (we can't take that much time off work) and with our girls (take them?  leave them?).   And it's very costly, much more than domestic, which is about $18K for us, or foster care adoption, which is free.

We're also often asked, "Don't you want a boy?" or "Are you going to get a boy next time?"  The assumption is that we aren't satisfied parenting two girls or we feel something is missing without a boy. 

I don't know what our future holds.  I'm excited to see what each season of life brings our way.    One thing is true in adoption----whatever you plan for, it won't happen.  :)    Be ready for life's next adventure by throwing caution to the wind, trusting God, and being thankful. 

Have an Adoption/Race/Healthy Living/Etc. Question?

Send it my way!  whitebrownsugar AT hotmail DOT com

I've been getting some great questions these past few weeks.   If you'd like your question (and my answer) published on my blog, let me know.  I won't disclose your name and location unless you want me to.

A Response to an Interesting Comment

My most recent blog post on adoption ethics has spurred some interesting responses.  

First, let me say that I really do appreciate all responses, even those that don't align with my viewpoints.

Second, I love your readership!

Third, I think it's so important that we are thinking about and discussing these issues.  It makes us better, more educated, more deliberate adoptive parents!

I wanted to follow up on one comment in particular:

But how can you really speak to it, if you haven't had failed placements?

Not that I'm saying that a birthmother should have a child she doesn't want to give up ripped out of her arms, but the longer you have the child, the more attached you are going to become. That's why placement happens in the first few days... Yes, it's bad timing with hormones, but that's why you spend the prior 9 months (hopefully) discussing and making these decisions and being sure about it.

I've watched multiple couples go through failed placement through failed placement through failed placement.

Your daughters biological parents come to you NOW and say they made a terrible mistake... You'd give them back?

I hope the answer is heck no! They are your children!

What I have seen is that many birth mothers would like TPR to happen quickly so they are not forced into bonding with their children when they know they do not want to parent, or are incapable of doing so, or aren't able to, etc.

I think it would be so much harder on them and their families if there was a minimim, say, 3 week waiting period where they were forced to spend time with their babies when they did not WANT to. The shorter time periods are not just for the adoptive parents. They protect our birth mother's hearts too.

Dear Reader,

First, I believe that no matter how many failed placements a family has had, be it one or twenty-five, we still cannot compromise.  We cannot forgo doing what is right because WE are the ones who are hurting.    Again, I do not want to minimize the loss that an adoptive parent has faced which lead them to adoption.    That loss is real and raw and horrible.   I have also had friends who have experienced failed placements, and we have faced situations where we were "chosen" only to be told that adoption wasn't going to be the birth mom's choice after all.  Was it sad?  Yes.  Disappointing?  Yes.   Defeating?  Yes.

But that's the nature of adoption.    And adoptive parents CHOOSE to face these ups and downs, the unknowns, and the heartaches---all in the hopes that one day they will be placed with a baby.

Adoptive parents----adoption isn't about us!   We think it is.  The agency tells us it is.   But it's not!

You also mention the the mom had 9 months to make her choice.  True.  But carrying a baby in-utero is not the same as having the baby in her arms.   Many adoption professionals say the mom has to not only decide parenting or placing prior to the baby's birth, but the decision has to be remade afterward---because, once the baby is in mom's arms, it's really really really really real.    And that mom has every right to take as long as she needs to make her choice.   Sadly, I think too many agencies play the "minimum" card as the maximum.  Meaning, if a bio mom can sign her rights away starting at 72 hours after birth, the agencies are hovering outside, ready to pounce on the mom at exactly the 72 hour so they can hopefully get her to sign before she changes her mind.  :(   Many adoptive parents are able to be at the hospital with the mom---and though it's well-intended, the presence of adoptive parents can word as a double-edged sword.  One positive is that the adoptive parents can support the mom and bond with the baby.   But an overwhelming negative is that the presence of so many pro-adoption individuals (social workers, counselors, adoptive parents, maybe even the medical staff) puts pressure on the mom to place.

I do see your point, that shorter TPR guidelines can benefit the birth mother.   I think they can, maybe, if the mom is REALLY REALLY REALLY sure about placing.  But from my experience, many birth mothers (who aren't birth mothers until they sign TPR) aren't REALLY sure.    It's unnatural to hand your baby to someone else to parent FOREVER.  It's totally normal for the mom to have doubts about the decision to "give her baby away."     I was with a woman when she placed her baby for adoption.    There was NOTHING normal or sure about what she was doing, even when she knew and was convinced it was the best decision.    

This brings up the point that it's so important, in my view, that there is a federal TPR law, not a state-to state law.   It's crazy how some states have a 48 TPR law while other states have a 30 day law.     There needs to be extensive research done to determine what a "fair" TPR law is.    I honestly don't have a suggestion, but I don't think 48 hours is appropriate given the mom just gave birth a few mere hours ago and then is asked to sign documents which TERMINATE (strong word, right?) her parental rights.

I love that the county we adopted in requires two things of a mother wanting to place.  1:  She may sign TPR at 48 hours.  However....  2:  She has to appear in court (usually a week or so after the baby's birth), before a judge, and with her own attorney, to answer a slew of questions regarding her decision BEFORE TPR is considered official.  They question her to make sure she understands her decision and that she hasn't been coerced in any way by the adoptive family, the agency, or someone else.      She may opt to appear in court later than one week, from my understanding. 

This means the birth mother must decide 2-3 times that yes, adoption is her choice.   She might decide before birth, after the birth, and again, a week or more later.    The baby, in the meantime, goes into an interim care home where he or she is well cared for until a decision has been made.

A mom who is trying to decide, post-birth, if adoption is the best choice for her baby can opt in or out of putting her baby in interim care, which the agency pays for (so the mom has no financial responsibility in this regard). 

Finally, Steve and I discussed what we would do if the birth parents asked for their child back after TPR had been signed and officially accepted by the court.   At what point would we return the child?    The answer is, when the child had become ours, we would not return her.  Meaning, when her older sister started calling her sister, when we felt like we were truly the child's parents (which can take weeks or months for adoptive families), and when we felt that returning the child would be harmful to the child.

I know that is very vague, but I do believe it is situational.  

In conclusion, I think all the laws and rules that ultimately, I see as pro-adoptive parent and anti-birth parent, are in place because adoption is a business that only makes money off placements.   If a mom parents, the agency loses money--the time and energy they invested into counseling, into helping mom get on state aid, etc.  When a placement occurs, the agency makes a large sum of money (hello, seen the adoption bills?!?  eeek!).   The agency isn't doing placements out of the kindness of their hearts.   

And sadly, society sees birth parents as the bad ones in the situation and the adoptive parents as the saviors of the "poor needy children who need good homes."     It's so easy for us, as adoptive parents, to dehumanize birth parents because our "gain" is tied completely to the birth parent's loss.   If we can, as a society, continue to drag birth parents through the proverbial mud, we can keep them in the place we feel comfortable---beneath us, less than.  

And that is why I feel adoptive parents must pursue the most ethical adoptions possible---from every decision they make, to every word they write or utter, to every action they take or do not take.  Because we hold the power in the situation---according to the agency (the customer pays, the customer receives), according to the birth parents (we are the ones who supposedly have it all together and are fully prepared to parent), according to society (we are the good ones, the saviors).  

It's a big responsibility.    And it's life-altering. 

 





I Can't Believe I'm Saying This...A Rant on Adoption Pins

Finally, we are moved into our new home, and I have a few spare moments to browse my (and your?) latest addiction:  Pinterest.

One of my readers had notified me that some of my articles and blog posts were being pinned.  So, late one night, I type "adoption" into the search engine. 

Images like these irk me:

Adoption isn't...

1:  THE abortion alternative.    Adoption, abortion, parenting.  These are COMPLICATED decisions.  A mother who is considering abortion is in the heat of a crisis pregnancy (be it minor or major, in her book).    It bothers me that so many Christians promote adoption over parenting as an abortion alternative.    I do believe all mothers love their babies---born and unborn.  I also believe a woman needs to be told what ALL of her options are---not just told "abortion is bad; adoption is wonderful."   To simplify adoption, to promote it as the easy out to an unplanned pregnancy, is incredibly disturbing.

2:  "...the new pregnant."  PUH-LEEZE.  I know adoption is pretty cool---saith the public---who, at the same time, also says adoptive families are second class citizens (via their comments, stares, and questions).  I didn't adopted because it's cool or "new." To imply that adoption is a trend and we should all jump on the bandwagon is offensive.

Additionally, adoption isn't a replacement for having biological children.    Having a biological child and adopting aren't the same.  Don't give me that "I didn't carry you in my tummy; I carried you in my heart" nonsense.     To enter into adoption as a replacement for pregnancy/biology is ridiculous.   No doubt, in the end there's a child who is loved unconditionally by his or her parent(s)....but to pretend that adopting a child is the same as having a biological child, or is less cool or more cool than having a biological child, well, that implies that adopted children should disregard their biological roots and that birth parents should go along their merry little way while their child is raised by adoptive parents.


Now before you write me off as crazy....

I've read hundreds of adoption books, blogs, and articles.   I like to dig deeper into the messages being sent by a simple pin or e-mail or poem or Proverb.  It's never as simple as it seems.    And pro-adoption messages more often favor the adoptive parents, not the adoptee or the biological parents.  That irks me. 


There are so many misconceptions about adoption, these two images promoting a few of those misconceptions.  

What adoption messages irk you?   How are they harmful to members of the adoption triad?

Ask Rachel: What I Really Want to Say

J.H. asked:

What crazy things do people ask you about your girls? And what do you feel like saying, but don't?

In no particular order...

"Are the girls real sisters?"
What I want to say, "No, they are fake sisters."
What I usually say, "Yes."
Why?  They are in the same family.  That makes them sisters.  

"Why didn't their birth parents want them?"
What I want to say, %$&%#$^$#^!"
What I usually say, "Their birth parents love them very much."
Why?  Because it's true.  My girls birth parents DO love them.  The reasons my girls were placed for adoption is none of anyone's business.  Period.

"I could never give my child away."
What I want to say, "My girls birth parents made a decision they felt was best."
What I usually say...nothing.  How does one respond to such nonsense?    There are so many things wrong with that statement...and it can only lead to drama.
Why?  Some people don't deserve a response.

"Are they mixed or full?"
What I want to say, "My kids aren't dogs.  They aren't breeds."
What I usually say, "My girls are African American."
Why?  It's the truth. 

"Are their birth parents young?"
What I want to say, "None of your business."
What I usually say, "Most birth parents are in their twenties."
Why?  It gives an answer without revealing personal information.

"I always wanted to adopt, but I wanted to have my own kids first."
What I want to say, "So you think adopted kids are second-class to biological kids."
What I usually say, "My kids are my own."
Why?  Because it's true!

I think what is most annoying is that my family can be anywhere---in a restroom, at a restaurant, in an airport, at a festival---you name it---and we are approached by strangers and asked intimate, personal questions----IN FRONT OF MY THREE YEAR OLD who repeats everything and understands much more than people might think.   The disrespect, the lack of boundaries, tact, and class, and the outright nosiness is intrusive and incredibly frustrating at times. 

I try to always respond:
---Directly.
---With more grace than how the question was asked.
---With respect for my child, her birth parents, and our family.
---In order to educate the asker (be it an adoption fact or a little manners lesson....)

:)

Ask Rachel: Curious Friends + Articles on Race

C.M., mom of seven (4 biological, 3 via adoption), asks:

How do you respond when a friends asks too personal of questions...not just a stranger in a store...but a good friend?   As a foster parent, I am not supposed to divulge ANY information.   How do you keep that information private without offending your friend?

I have been exploring this issue myself lately.    And as usual, I feel my expectations are just way to high of people.  

For example, a few weeks ago my family and I walked into a Cracker Barrel for lunch.  There were two hostesses, one of whom said (THE VERY FIRST THING OUT OF HER MOUTH), "Are they [my girls] sisters?"   

I gave her the "mom-look" while my husband and I said "yes" at the same time.   The hostess noticed the look I gave her, paused, and then said, "Oh, I mean...is it a boy and a girl?"  (I guess Miss E's teal shirt and lack of hair bow made the hostess question the sex of my daughter...)

Eye roll.    I mean, really?!?   Ask a dumb question, and then follow it up by another dumb question...just in case the first dumb question wasn't enough.  

I expect these sorts of nosy questions from strangers.  It happens to my family time and time and time and time (and time and time and time...you get the point) again.    

Adoptive families, we generally feel that strangers have NO right to ask intimate questions.    In fact, if you are a stranger and see my family, you are allowed to say the following (in my humble opinion):

---What cute kids!

---How old are they?

---What fabulous hair accessories/outfits/shoes!

That's about it.

Oh, and the occasional supportive comment is nice.  For example, I was at the grocery store the other day with my girls when an older man approached us and said, "My daughter adopted two black kids.  They are grown now.  So tall those boys are!"   That was it.  I appreciated the connection he made with my family and that he didn't utter anything offensive, judgemental, or nosy.  It was sweet, really.

Otherwise, think what you want, stranger.  But as my mom used to tell my very outspoken little sister, "You don't have to say aloud whatever you are thinking."

I wish I could wear a shirt everyday (a cute one, granted) that says, "If I want you to know, I'll tell you."  Meaning---don't ask.  Just. Don't. Ask.  Because I think people generally ask questions in order to pass judgement.  To try to figure out adoption on their own and put that "figure out" into a neat little box which they will use to judge all-things-adoption against.     

But I digress.  A lot.  Sorry, C.M.!

I have a lot of awesome friends.  Have some of them asked questions that have me mentally cringing?  Yes.     What do I say in response?   Either I divulge too much information which I usually regret.  Or I say something nonsensical that has the friend so confused that she moves on to another topic.  (And I have to say much of this is my fault--I'm outgoing and love to dish with my girlfriends---but there's this line I just don't want crossed...and no one really knows what that is).

I think friends ask because they care.  At least my friends do.  I don't have dramatic friends---period---because I can't stand drama.   I want real, raw, honest, funny, down-to-earth friends----the type of friends I have.  

C.M.---Because you really aren't allowed to share information about your kiddos---I think you should say, "Foster parents aren't allowed to share personal information about their kids.  I hope you understand."

I think the bigger issue is when you adopt the kids.   For me, a friend asks an uber-personal question about my kids' history like "Why did their birth parents give them away?" or "How old are the birth parents?"---that I find myself answer generally.  For example, the "how-old-are-the-birth-parents" question. I say, "Most birth parents are in their twenties.  I know many people believe all birth parents are teens, but that's not statistically the case."   This educates, but it also doesn't reveal information I'm not comfortable sharing.  

It's ok for a child's doctor to ask about a child's medical history.  I think it's ok to tell your close family members, those who might spend time with your kiddos when you aren't around, some basic background info---because that could be helpful to them when caring for your children.   I think it's fine to share details of your child's story with those who can advise and educate you (such as other adoptive parents whom you trust).

I have often screwed up when it comes to answering questions.  I usually end up kicking myself for not answering in the perfect adoptive parent way.  But hey, then I realize, I'm not the perfect adoptive parent.  :O)   

---

Here are a few awesome articles on race:

My 12 year old son knows he could be Trayvon

White people, you will never look suspicious like Trayvon Martin

Dear Rachel

Ok, so sort of like Dear Abby....I welcome your questions via e-mail!   I'll ask your permission to post your question (modified for length and clarity), your name and general location (only if you want), and my answer to your question.

Thank you to the numerous women who have been e-mailing me and sharing their adoption stories and questions!  If you'd like to submit a question in which you want a blog response, e-mail me at whitebrownsugar AT hotmail DOT com.      I always keep questions private unless you give me permission to share. 

So, here we go!

Jodi asked (in a nutsell):
My husband and I (both Caucasian) cannot agree on what to name our AA daughter (we are adopting from foster care), and I hope you can help.    He read in a transracial adoption book that adopted kids should be treated like any other member of the family (just like our six biological children).     I agree with this.   What we can't agree on is changing the baby's name, which doesn't start with the same letter as all our other kid's names.     The name I have chosen isn't a traditional AA name.    Is it ok to change the baby's name to fit in with the letter theme of our family and to change her name to something that doesn't sound like a typical AA name?

Jodi,

I'm so glad you asked this question!   I struggled with this issue as well.    I feared that naming our girls a "white" name would damage them for life.   (Yeah, a bit dramatic, right?)      I also worried that I would regret not keeping our daughter's birth names, since that is something their birth parents gave to them. 
      
Striking a balance is important.  My advice is to give your child the J-name as her first name, and keep her original first name as her middle name.    If, when your child is older, she wants to revert back to her original name, her middle name, she can.    She has options!    Both of my girls have parts of their birth names in the names we gave them, as we combined their first-birth-names with the names we had chosen.    (By the way, we have an E-theme for our kids, so I totally get it!)  

A name doesn't make a child "black enough" to be culturally accepted.   Cultural acceptance is complicated.   There are many things you can do to support your child as a black girl----including live in a diverse area, put her in a diverse school, take her to cultural/racial events, read books on Black history, place AA artwork in your home, learn to style her hair, etc.   

But at the very end of the day, you'll be her mom, she'll be your daughter, and a name, well, it's just a name.  :)

I hope this helps!

-Rach

Education vs. Diversity

We live in a diverse area consisting of whites, blacks, and Hispanics.   Our elementary schools are equally as diverse.  

Problem:  We live in a failing school district.   And from what we’ve heard, it’s not only not-great, but it’s one of the worst in the entire state.

So, move, right?   But to where?  

Surrounding areas are either

a---better educationally, but are drastically less diverse

b---much more diverse, in much worse school districts.

So you might be thinking, what about private school?    Even less diverse.   Like my daughter would be THE black girl.   Or maybe one of two.  Not good.

(Funny side note:  when I ask parents or teachers of private schools how diverse their school is, they usually say, “Oh, it’s diverse.  There’s two black kids in the school.  Oh and one Asian girl, too.”   Yeah.  Ok.    Great.)

As a college teacher, I fully understand the impact of a student who is ill-equipped for college due to his or her lack of a good K-12 education.      But I also understand, from the little research there is on transracial adoption, that the kids who feel most resentful of their parents and most struggle with racial identity and confidence are the ones who were “the” black/Asian/Hispanic kid in an mostly white town or school.      

So what wins?  Diversity or education?   What is more important?  

We still have two and a half years before Miss E can go to kindergarten due to her birthday.  She’ll be nearly six when she can go.   We have time to decide.  But some things just aren’t going to change---like the general racial composition of our town and nearby towns, or the failing school districts vs. the well-to-do/successful ones.  

I know I’m not alone in my concerns.  While white parents of white kids brush off my worries (particularly when I ask how diverse their child’s school is) saying, “Kids don’t notice race” or “Your child will be fine,” transracial families are rolling their eyes in annoyance right along with me.   I know I’m perfectly right and normal to worry about diversity vs. education.    I don’t want my daughters, by default, to be “the cool black girl” in their school.

What to do?  What to do?

I’m anxious to hear from you.   What do you think is more important----diversity or education?   Do you find yourself in a similar predicament?   What will you do?   Would you (have you?) ever move a great distance to find a diverse and good school for your kids, or is that going too far?    

Why We Adopted

 Miss E admiring her shadow

Baby E checking out the melting snow

It is often assumed that Steve and I adopted because of infertility.   This is not the case.      We adopted because in March of 2006, I was diagnosed with type I diabetes.   Type I diabetes is incurable, only manageable.    I'm not going to sugarcoat (no pun intended) this disease; it's 24/7/365, and it's really really really difficult.    This March will mark my six year D-Day anniversary. 

Pregnancy with type I is challenging, to say the least.   I have long struggled with hormone shifts and my blood sugars.     Pregnancy is one constant hormone shift.   The potential complications of pregnancy with type I diabetes are scary.   And there is a small (but significant, when it's your family!) risk of passing type I diabetes on to biological children.    (In fact, I know someone with type I who has four children.  All four children have type I). 

I felt like having biological children, knowing my reality, would be selfish of me.    Does biology really matter?    There are children who need homes.    Adoption was an option for us---financially speaking.   

We were questioned, numerous times, when we announced we wanted to adopt.  "Don't you want your own?" or   "Maybe after you adopt you can try for your own kids?"  Or my favorite, "I know someone with diabetes who had six biological kids with no issues!" followed by arched eyebrows indicating that he or she was waiting for me to embrace them and say, "You are so right!  Forget about adoption!"    

The greatest sadness in my heart wasn't from saying "goodbye" to the idea of sonograms and an expanding tummy and wondering if the baby would have my good looks (wink) or my husband's.  Rather, my sadness came from the assumption by the general public that adoptive families are second-class, less-than, to biological families.  

The woman I call Grandma isn't my biological grandmother.    She became my Grandma through a series of family events----many of them quite sad and depressing and revolting----that led my parents to the people I call my grandparents, the people whom I have no biological connection to.   Did it matter to me?  No.   I wanted someone to say, "I'm proud of you," someone to tease me, someone to shower me with affection and gifts and Sunday dinners and open arms.  My grandparents provided that voluntarily---thank God.     Do I feel that I missed out on not having my biological grandparents do these things for me?    Honestly, no.    

When we were deciding between having biological kids and adopting, it really came down to my disease.   Were we willing to take the gamble?  To put my health and our future child's health on the line for the sake of biology?  The answer was no.  

I do know women with type I who have had healthy pregnancies and healthy children, like my friend Kerri over at Six Until Me and Amy who wrote a phenomenal book called  The Smart Woman's Guide to Diabetes (which I was interviewed for---an contributed info on adoption as an option for diabetic women).   Each diabetic journey is very different, and these two women, along with many others, were able to successfully have biological children.   

But it wasn't the right or best choice for me.

Now that we have two kids, no one asks why we adopted.  The kids are here with us, and we are a pretty fab family.   United we stand.  :)

My heart hurts for families facing infertility.   But I want to say that having children isn't a right; it's a gift.   And sometimes that gift comes in ways we don't plan for or initially embrace.    

I didn't want diabetes.   I wouldn't wish this disease----the constant testing and doc appointments, the highs and lows, the never-ending awareness that I am not normal---on my worst enemy.  It can be insanely depressing, daunting, and debilitating.     But, without it I wouldn't have chose adoption, and I wouldn't have my girls.

Choosing adoption shouldn't be something people pity or surrender to or sigh and say, "Ok.  Fine.  If there's no other way...."    Adoption is what it is---different.  Unique.   Exciting.   Rewarding.   It's possibility, it's joy, and it's love.   

I'll close with this:

Each morning I have the privilege of getting my daughters up and out of bed.   My Baby E's breathing becomes increasingly rapid as I approach her crib, and she says, "MAMAMAMAMA!"     Sometimes she grins, or sometimes she's ready for breakfast and fusses.   I then go to her sister's room.  Miss E is usually perched on the side of her bed.  Sometimes she immediately tells me a story or shares a thought or asks a questions.  Other times she directs all her attention to her sister and says, "Good morning!  Did you have a good rest?"   This is Baby E's cue to either squirm away from her sister's grasp or fully embrace it---mouth wide open---bestowing a slobbery kiss on the side of her sister's face.   We head to the kitchen where I prepare their favorite whole wheat waffles.  The day begins---fresh and full of possibilities, opportunities, and moments-turned-memories.  

Bliss.

Acceptance

I have many titles under my Resources page on diversity.    Many of the titles suggested talk about skin color differences, disability, unique family makeup---but whatever the topic, it all comes back to the idea that we should embrace people as they are and that, deep down, we are all human.

I want my girls be accepted for who they are---including being brown-skinned and adopted.   The world says that being adopted is either strange, extra special, or in vogue---but to me, adoption is none of those things.    The world also says that being brown-skinned means you are less beautiful and more dangerous than lighter-skinned people.    

I really appreciate what these authors try to do---to unify the readers, to teach them that the beauty of people is in their differences.    However, I question how much of these ideas crosses over into a society with no moral compass.  

I do believe every person has value.   I believe, as a pastor once said, that every person in this world is someone for whom Christ died.     I do believe that God loves every person---regardless of his or her skin color, family makeup, education, capabilities, etc. 

But, the Bible is clear that there is sin in the world, and God hates sin.  Sin separates from God.   So when we embrace anyone, does that also mean we embrace anything?  As in "anything goes" and "whatever floats your boat" is fine?

The authors of the titles I suggest often have a line or two that includes adoption among people's unique circumstances (which we should embrace).     But to parallel adoption with a religion, for example, that directly conflicts with my faith, well, then what?    Most of these books do it.   Yet, I want my girls to know that there are many kinds of people, and no matter what, we should love them all.  That doesn't mean we are ok with their choices.

This brings to mind the old saying I heard often growing up:  "Love the sinner, hate the sin."  

Difficult balance, and, furthermore, something very challenging to teach young children.

What do you think?  Is the "love everyone" message in diversity and acceptance books a good idea?   Do you have any moral conflicts that prevent you from reading these books to your kids?   

"Adopted"

How do you feel about the word "adopted" being used for other purposes besides adopting children?  Like when someone adopts a pet or adopts a method or cause....

It makes me cringe a bit, but a word can have many meanings.

What do you think?