From Guest BloggerDawn Friedmanvisit her atwww.thiswomanswork.com, and click here>> for more information on Adoption Mosaic Bloggers.
On Saturday we had a big celebration for my son’s bar mitzvah and most of our immediate family were there including our daughter’s birth mom, Pennie. We have a very open adoption with Pennie that has grown in the last 5 and half years to something we have integrated comfortably into the rest of our family life. Pennie is not a special event or a separate experience and for our daughter that has been nothing but good.
The night before the celebration, Madison had a hard time falling asleep. She was excited about the party but she was also worried about something. I left the room to get her a drink of water and when I came back, she was sitting up in bed sobbing.
“I don’t want to share Pennie!” she cried. “I don’t want to share Roscoe!”
Roscoe is her new baby brother. Pennie gave birth about four months ago and the transition wasn’t easy for Madison. It was hard for her to understand why she was placed with us while Roscoe got to stay with Pennie. We’ve done a lot of adoption processing these past few months and the result has been a better, stronger relationship with Pennie. This has always been true as we’ve faced our adoption challenges head on.
What I’ve noticed with Madison is that the more permission we give her to claim her kinship to Pennie, the more confidence she has in her relationships with us. It might seem counter-intuitive to people who don’t know how open adoption works but when we – my husband and I – are able to model respect and acceptance for Pennie’s place in her life, the more secure she is in trusting our respect and acceptance of her.
But that night she was crying and crying and crying. She didn’t want to share Pennie with the other grown-ups. She didn’t want to share Roscoe with the other kids.
“She is MY birth mother!” she explained through her tears. “And I don’t get to see her enough! I don’t want to share her!”
So we called Pennie and Madison sobbed on the phone to her. I couldn’t hear what Pennie said but I could hear the cadence of her voice through the phone – soothing, sympathetic. You know, like a mom.
The next day, after the services and the raucous, happy party, Madison cuddled with me on the couch.
“What was your favorite part?” I asked.
“I loved the food,” she answered readily. “I loved the music. I loved seeing my friends.”
“And you loved me, right?” I teased.
“Yes,” she said. “But not as much as Pennie.”
I’m sharing this story for two reasons: One because I want people to understand that Pennie, although she is not actively day-to-day mothering, is still Madison’s mother. A central part of my motherhood is making way for that in ways that are appropriate for Madison. Because Pennie is who she is, that means giving the two of them space to build their own loving, nurturing relationship. Fostering our children’s healthy relationship to their birth families – whether they are present or not – is a vital aspect of being an adoptive parent. Figuring out how to manage this within the circumstances of our kids’ unique adoption stories is an ongoing process.
The other reason I’m sharing this story (of Madison asserting her right to love Pennie best) is to say that there are certainly times my daughter lets me know that I’m coming in second. Sometimes it’s overt and casual like this weekend. Sometimes it’s said in anger (“I wish I lived with Pennie! She wouldn’t make me clean my room!”) and sometimes it’s wistful and worried (“Mommy, would you be sad if I thought Pennie was prettier than you?”).
Here’s the thing: My daughter’s love for Pennie has nothing to do with me although its presence is part of our relationship, too. Because I have two kids, I know that you can love people totally the same and totally different. I know that love is indefinable and immeasurable. I know that “I love you” means a whole lot of things for which words are inadequate. So I think I understand how Madison can love us both as her mothers and how sometimes her immediate feelings will be stronger one way then stronger the other. That she adores me, I have no doubt. The rest (how much, how often) is details and unimportant ones at that.
It’s not a contest. I tell my own kids that all the time when they bicker over servings of dessert or privileges given to one but not the other. While they may be too young to always trust that there is enough love for everyone, I am older and wise enough to know that it’s true.
Pennie had to leave the bar mitzvah party early so she headed out into the crowd of kids to say her good-byes to Madison. Maddie’s friends were sitting cross-legged watching them hug and kiss. As Pennie straightened up and started to move toward the door and Madison turned to run back to her friends, the little girls all spontaneously applauded. They know a good thing when they see it.
I have been learning so much from this blog. I learn through the process of writing posts, from the web links and resource suggestions people send me, and from the other bloggers and people who join the conversation. But two days ago, I learned something I didn’t expect.
Livia’s post “Lets Get Real” was not specifically about race. It was about taking down the walls that impede our progress toward understanding and tolerance. However she shared that an aspect of her experience as an adoptee started her on her road towards understanding racial oppression. And she was attacked. Shut down. Her words were misconstrued, her intention was ignored, and her gut reaction was that of retreat.
I’ve seen this happen before, in educational seminars, in bars, and in gatherings of friends, by white people and people of color, but I will be honest; I’ve never been very disturbed by it. I’ve always sort of brushed it off as, “Okay, that’s the end of that conversation, oh well” and moved on without a second thought. Because I’ve long ago decided that it is not my responsibility to be the one to try to teach white people about race, and because I understand the anger that some people of color hold dear. (With friends it is different. With most white friends I welcome a conversation about race especially if it’s something they want to discuss.)
As a person of color, I will admit that I’ve had very little sympathy for white people who want to, but have trouble talking about race. It’s not an easy topic, and we cant expect it to be. However, what I saw happen here, with this post, is EXACTLY why many people who really want to build bridges don’t go there, or rather, stop going there. Of course it is not just up to them, it’s up to all of us. But when any of us stop going there, so many potentially progressive conversations never happen and so many walls between us remain standing strong.
This all seems very simple, but I am viewing it with new eyes. I am seeing the exact process of how these conversations end before they even begin. To take down the walls of misunderstanding or oppression that stand between different segments of the population, you have to do it brick by brick. It’s hard work. It’s going to take a long time. I’m going to go find my mallet and roll up my sleeves.
February 3, 2010 at 10:17 pm · Posted by admin · Filed under Introduction
The goal of the Adoption Mosaic blog is to create a safe space where adoption community members can voice their experience, dialogue about issues, and learn from one another.
We recognize that our diverse community won’t always agree, but feel that disagreements can be vocalized in a respectful manner. In order to ensure our blog remains a safe space for both bloggers and commenters to communicate freely, we ask that commenters follow this simple rule.
I’ve been thinking a lot about minorities and power and privilege lately. My thoughts come out of my experiences as a white adoptee.
Adoptees are in the minority in this culture. Most people are not relinquished, and get raised by at least one biological relation. Being part of this minority has enabled me to experience what it’s like to feel silenced and, oftentimes, what it’s like to be an outsider looking in at a culture that is based on blood relations, and a culture that asks me to behave as if I’ve grown up with blood relations.
Being white has enabled me to have the experience of being an insider. Though I still have far to go (and the journey will never actually be over), I’ve traveled from less to more understanding of what people of color go through in this culture. Reflecting on what I’ve learned from that particular journey so far, I realized something completely unexpected: I do understand the resistance of some non-adopted folks and adoptive parents to really listening to adult adoptees.
When those in any minority speak out and express “negative” feelings or criticism, the responses from the dominant culture and those in positions of power/privilege can often range from various forms of not listening/caring to outright attacks and attempts to silence those in the minority by casting them as “angry,” “troubled,” or “troublemakers,” etc.
Other responses by those in the dominant culture can range from feeling attacked, becoming fearful that they’re going to say or do something wrong, and/or finding subtle (and not so subtle ways) to not engage, or be an ally. If you’re in a dominant culture, it can be quite uncomfortable to have your eyes opened to a different/expanded reality. At a certain point it’s easy for discomfort to equal retreat.
And we can’t forget that people are usually taught to think of disagreement as something that’s automatically antagonistic, and discomfort as something to be avoided. Most of us aren’t taught how to respond to disagreement. Difference itself is often considered uncomfortable, and something to be silenced, ignored, made fun of, or pitied.
We need to talk about all of these “differences” and how they make us uncomfortable.
Let’s stop being afraid of talking about race, about adoption, about sexual orientation, etc. Let’s stop speaking in code, and be up front about how we feel.
Let’s commit to being honest about where we are on our journey as adoptive parents, birth/first parents, and adoptees. Let’s agree to be honest when we’re having our buttons pushed. Let’s commit to staying open and actually listen to one another.
This is an invitation to stick with the discomfort and keep going.
Hi folks,
I published a post last night that was still in draft form (hit “publish” rather than “save”). -Yes, this is what happens at 12 am when you have been sleep deprived all week. I took it down, and will re-post it (and the comment it already generated) when it’s finished. In the mean time… how about another musical interlude?
This is a collaboration between Zara H. Phillips and muscian and frequent activistDMC (yes, from the very awesome band Run-DMC)
One Tier at a Time: One Adoptive Mother’s Climb to Racial Awareness and Parenting (thoughts originated from postings at Adoptive Families Circle)
I am the mother of a transracial family. I have a five year old black son and a two year old biracial son via donor. I feel like I have reached a new tier in my racial awareness in the last year. I have gone from thinking (about five years ago) something like this; “Oh yeah I get it-because look at my family, I have to get it.” to “WHOA I don’t get it at all. I have so much work to do, where do I begin?” (Actually, I am always going to be in this phase, my reading, connecting, asking questions, reading, connecting phase) to “We have to talk about this, about RACE, about what our children are experiencing all the time.” And I do talk about it all the time. Read the rest of this entry »
According to this article in The Telegraph, a UK newspaper, many charitable and non-profit organizations are warning against the rush to adopt children from Haiti. Read the rest of this entry »
From Guest Blogger Astrid Dabbeni, Click here>>for more information on Adoption Mosaic Bloggers.
Today a friend on Facebook wrote: “It’s so sad to think about the number of children that have become orphaned in Haiti this week. I pray there’s a good adoption program to help. I am tempted…”
My reply was: “I know this is devastating! I too hope there are good programs. By programs, I mean programs that help the children find and connect with their extended birth family. Very often countries are in basic survival mode when a natural disaster occurs and they don’t search for a child’s extended family before sending them overseas for adoption. Also, people from all over the world are often ‘tempted’ to help at times like this by adopting the children without really understanding the bigger picture of what it REALLY means to adopt a child…let alone from another country. There are SO MANY ways to help…”
I would love to hear what others think about this topic.
A friend of mine let me in on a conversation she had with her husband last week. It was initially in reference to international adoption and went something like this:
A: If we were to adopt would you be upset if the child didn’t call you “daddy.”
B: Well, yes, a bit. I would want them to call me “daddy.”
A: But what if we were to adopt, say, your niece?
B: Well in that case no, I wouldn’t expect them to call me “daddy”
A: Why not?
B: Because they already have a daddy.
Put so simply, it makes you realize how easily and how often birth/first parents are completely erased from the lives of the adoptive family, as if they don’t exist. But the fact is, all adoptive children already have a daddy. They already have a mommy too. Can you imagine how the face of adoption would change if we all kept this reality in the forefront of our consciousness rather than tucking it away out of sight out of mind? What an amazing thing it would be if we could celebrate each of our parents (or children’s parents) without value judgments or guilt, but with openness and love.
I was out to lunch with a friend of mine a couple months ago and she handed me a copy of Hip Mama magazine open to a page with a poem on it. She said “You’ve got to read this.” The poem was Black Enough by Catherine Anderson and when I read it I got chills. I immediately knew that I wanted to include it in Adoption Mosaic’s (then) upcoming newsletter -page 8.
The goal of the Adoption Mosaic blog is to create a safe space where adoption community members can voice their experience, dialogue about issues, and learn from one another.
We recognize that our diverse community won't always agree, but feel that disagreements can be vocalized in a respectful manner. In order to ensure our blog remains a safe space for both bloggers and commenters to communicate freely, we ask that commenters follow this simple rule.
On Saturday we had a big celebration for my son’s bar mitzvah and most of our immediate family were there including our daughter’s birth mom, Pennie. We have a very open adoption with Pennie that has grown in the last 5 and half years to something we have integrated comfortably into the rest of our family life. Pennie is not a special event or a separate experience and for our daughter that has been nothing but good.
A friend of mine let me in on a conversation she had with her husband last week. It was initially in reference to international adoption and went something like this:
I was out to lunch with a friend of mine a couple months ago and she handed me a copy of Hip Mama magazine open to a page with a poem on it. She said “You’ve got to read this.” The poem was Black Enough by Catherine Anderson and when I read it I got chills. I immediately knew that I wanted to include it in Adoption Mosaic’s (then) upcoming 
