India Heritage Camp

After 2,000 miles of travel in our 10-year-old minivan, our first big family roadtrip was voted a success by all five members of the family!  The centerpiece of our travels was Tulsa, Oklahoma, where we experienced our first India Heritage Camp, hosted by our adoption agency, Dillon International.

For our boys, this meant participating in their age groups' activities, which included Indian cooking, dance, yoga, henna painting, and preparing songs and skits for the closing ceremonies.  For our daughter, camp included all those things plus one more:  the chance to be reunited with some of the children who also began their lives in the care of ISRC Kolkata.  Anya Rashi was able to spend time with the now grown-up little girls who once shared a crib with her.

Upon our arrival in Tulsa, we spied Jenya and Devi and their mothers Karen and Julie walking across the parking lot of our hotel.  It was so surreal to see these girls and their mothers in person, after following their lives from afar on my computer.  I felt like I sat beside them as they saw photos of their new daughters, waited for court dates, traveled to India, and grafted their new little dears into their hearts and families.  And then all three of us began the journey again, waiting for second daughter from across the world.  We shared meals and many conversations, and left with our online imaginings of each other fleshed out into real-life friendships.

Later that night, I met Susie, mom to Anna Dola and Mihika, who recognized Aaron from reading our blog.  And the next day, when camp officially began, it was a thrill to meet Heather and Nathan, who took us along via their blog as they welcomed Piyashi Wren and Shiva Traveller home . . . and their were so many other children and parents who were recognizable from shared photos over the past five years.  The experience had the feeling of being united with long-lost family members, though we all come from different parts of the country, and different walks of life.

Anya Rashi is often hesitant about new experiences or being left in the care of new people -- but she went right into India camp without a backward glance.  She dove right in with the other children as if they had known each other for years . . . and the fanciful part of me likes to think that there was some kind of shared memory of each other from their baby days.

Another really wonderful thing was the camp "graduates" who helped with the young campers.  Anya Rashi has since talked about Miss Tess and Miss Theresa, both from ISRC, who helped in her room.  Anya is particularly fascinated by the fact that they are teenagers, that they were once campers themselves, and that they looked like her.  Those comments alone were like gold.

Some of the kids took my breath away because I saw them while we were in India.  Mihika and Anna Dola are two children we photographed for their waiting parents, and it was incredible to see them in person 4 1/2 years later.  We were also thrilled to meet Jynger, the India program director for Dillon, in person at last!  She's been our link to sanity, our information source, and the explainer of incomprehensible rules and processes for years now. 

And the other huge blessing was the India Association of the Tulsa area.  They provided cultural expertise for most of the camp classes, and staffed a "store" during camp where families without access to Indian items could update their children's Indian clothing, purchase bindis, and more.

Because we live so far away, we may not be able to go every year -- but it was so worth it to invest the time and money to go.  My only regret is that there were other families we've "met" online who weren't able to be there.  I would love to see Max Rup and his family, and Luke Swarnadip, Prasun, Jansen, Elizabeth Tanuja, and other children we photographed when we met Anya Rashi for the first time.  Maybe another year . . .

Edited to add:  This camp is not just for Dillon International families!  Families who adopted through other agencies were there too, and are most definitely welcome.  If you live anywhere near Tulsa, it is definitely worth the trip!

When strangers ask questions | Part 4

In this last installment of the series, I wanted to address the topic of how we talk about God in the context of adoption.  Many adoptive parents are partly motivated by religious reasons.  None of our adoption classes or training talked about this subject, but I often see God referenced in both secular and Christian blogs and adoption chat rooms.  The subject of God comes up when people at church talk to us about adoption, or in a more general way with strangers who are usually remarking about what a blessing we are to our daughter.  With strangers, these kinds of comments usually fall under the "she is lucky to have you" type of conversations.

I'm going to rely again on the expertise of Jane Brown, MSW.  She conducts workshops with teen and adult adoptees, and the things she shared on this topic are all drawn from what older adoptees themselves have said.  I really appreciate the window she is providing into the perceptions of adoptees -- many times, I have been surprised by how differently adoptees perceive things compared to my perceptions as an adoptive parent.  I know that every child is different, and not every adopted person will experience things the same way . . . but I'm grateful to hear some things that would not have occurred to me.  I hope it will make me a better and more sensitive parent.

Many of us make comments to others about how our family was "meant to be," or that God planned for our children to be part of our family.  Jane Brown encourages adoptive parents to be careful with our words, because they may unintentionally cause confusion in our kids:
While young children accept that at face value, and may even say it too, the teen/adult adoptee may very well see this quite differently. Many to most think to themselves that if that is the case, then God had to have also intended for their first family to be destroyed, just so that you could be their parents -- and are NOT terribly thrilled with that image. . . .
What I say to my children is that HUMANS make the problems that separate children from their original parents. God holds us in His capable hands when we are hurting, alone, without a family. . . . God held them until we made that decision and the timing was such that they were available just at the time that our paperwork was completed. Adoption -- for a child -- yields both gain and grief over who they were separated from and who they otherwise might have been. . . . Our lack of sensitivity to the fact that adopted kids see and experience adoption far differently than we, their parents do . . . gets in the way of kids being able to claim and express their all-too-real feelings, which helps them stay psychologically healthy.

This was difficult for me to read, but I can see how a child might wonder whether God meant for their first family to be so poor that they couldn't care for him, or to die of HIV/AIDS so they could join our family.  I do believe that God cares about and has a plan for each person's life -- but I will be careful how I talk about that.  I think that the idea of "beauty for ashes" is a metaphor that includes the idea of God's sovereignty, but also encompasses the difficult human circumstances behind the need for adoption.  God specializes in turning sadness, difficulties and pain (ashes) into something redemptive and beautiful -- story after story in the Bible fleshes that out -- without forgetting or diminishing the painful parts of the story.

I hope that this idea will resonate differently than the less complex "meant to be" interpretation, especially when my daughters are older.  I think it's significant that the resurrected Jesus still bore the wounds of his painful death -- that pain is one of the very things that makes His love so amazing and inexplicable.  In the same way, our children may still grapple with the painful parts of their stories, even while appreciating the fact that they are beloved members of our families. (Or not -- they may resent us completely as they grieve the loss of their birth family, and our job is to love them well through that.)  Pain and joy can co-exist for them (and for us), if we give our children permission to acknowledge and express all the facets of their experience.

The other word that we have chosen to be cautious about is "orphan."  Many Christians are passionate about caring for "widows and orphans," as described in James 1:27.  There are ministries devoted to "orphan care" which do terrific work around the globe.  There are many countries ravaged by AIDS or war in which children are literally orphans; but that isn't the case for all children living in orphanages.  The reality is that Anya Rashi is not an orphan.  Our daughter does have living birth parents, and so we choose not to reference "orphans" at all when we talk about her adoption.  It can be confusing to a child to know she has birth parents, but hear adoption discussed in terms of caring for orphans, so that's the reasoning behind our decision.  When she is older, she will likely be able to understand better that there are a variety of reasons children are placed in orphanages or foster care -- but for now we want to create a foundation of clarity about her own story.

The idea of her birth parents is something Anya Rashi has struggled to understand.  When she was four, she told me, "I know what the birth mother does, but what does the birth father do?"  (Gulp.)  We did have a good discussion last week about her birth mother.  After her bath, Anya Rashi asked me what belly buttons do.  We had a great talk about how she was connected to her birth mother through her umbilical cord, and was fed through it, and received oxygen that her birth mother breathed.  She was pretty fascinated by the idea, and it seemed to make her birth mother more real to her.  I must say that I never thought a belly button could lead to a profound adoption discussion. ;)

* * * * * * * * * *

I want to thank Jane Brown for giving me permission to share what she has learned from adoptees themselves -- some of it is difficult to hear, but I am glad to have my eyes opened to how adoptees might perceive things very differently than I do.  Thank you so much for reading along, and for sharing some of your thoughts or experiences in the comments!

When strangers ask questions | Part 3

Here are a few suggestions for how to answer those intrusive questions we often encounter as transracial families.  I hope you'll share your own experiences and answers that are effective in the comments section.  These answers are intended for literal strangers, not your cousin or friend who wants to adopt, and wants to ask about the adoption process.  For those questions, I would suggest going out for coffee or something similar without your child along -- not to hide what goes on in the adoption process, but to err on the side of your child not feeling like she is the focus of the conversation yet again.

Here are a few things I try to keep in mind when I answer questions:
1. Resist the urge to overexplain.
I don't go into details about how my biological children were conceived with anybody else (!), and I have no obligation to explain how my adopted children came into our family either.  Your child's story is his to share someday as he chooses -- and only he should choose who knows the details.

Jane Brown shared some insight from adoptees themselves:
"It is often far more difficult for our children than we realize, when people ask intrusive questions and we respond by giving lots of information about their having been adopted. As children grow older, the unwanted attention makes them feel as though they are out for Show and Tell, and most decidedly do NOT want to be the 'poster child' for adoption.  Most children who discuss this in [my] adoption workshops (amongst their adopted peers and the teen/adult adoptee volunteers) say that they wish their parents would not brag about the adoption when others give their parents the opportunity by asking about their looks -- their apparent differentness.  This does not demonstrate a wish to hide their adoption status because they are ashamed of that, merely a wish to not have their parents give personal information that makes them feel different from most others. 

I think we have to remember that we are modeling for our children the various ways we can respond. Whether we establish and keep boundaries will help our children feel that it is permissible to do that too, or instead, feel compelled to tell all when they really do not want to. I've seen far too many adult adoptees sit on adoptive panels, receive very intrusive questions, and tell all, after which they burst into tears and say privately that they always give away too much and then feel sick afterward and wonder why they can't stop themselves. Some realize, at that point, that that was how they felt when their parents gave away personal information when they were young.   

2. Recognize that your child may perceive adoption completely differently than you do -- respect that, and always prioritize for preserving your child's dignity, feelings and privacy.
Our children will each grapple with different facets of adoption.  The fact is, she didn't choose to be adopted in the first place.  My job is to understand that as the adoptive parent, I was the one who had a choice in the adoption process.  My child had no say in the circumstances she was born into, and had no say in losing her first parents, leaving her country/family of origin, and missing out on being part of that culture.  These are all losses that many child, teen and adult adoptees grapple with.  Adoption can be wonderful, but it always involves major losses for the child, the birth parents, and even the adoptive parents (infertility, etc.).  Be open to the fact that your child may be sad about different things at different times, and be sure to honor those losses in how you talk to strangers.  Part of our job as adoptive parents is to create a safe environment for our kids to talk about their grief, and we don't do that when our kids consistently hear only the happy aspects of adoption, or when we tell the story to strangers solely from our point of view, as the ones who had all the power and choices in the adoption. 

3. Sometimes answering with a question is the most polite, direct way to stop a conversation.  "Why do you ask?" is powerful -- it exposes that the person is just idly curious or nosy (if that's the case).  Then, if people have another motive, such as considering adoption themselves, you can invite them to discuss it at another time.  If they are wondering about birthparents and their circumstances, a polite but firm statement is appropriate: "I'm sorry, but that's private information, and not something we share with strangers."

4. Follow up with your child after a stranger asks questions.
It is so important to invite our kids' input into these situations, and acknowledge that strangers' questions can affect them.  Some examples of things to ask our kids are:  "That lady seemed really curious.  How did her questions make you feel?  How do you wish I had answered her?  How can I handle that differently in the future?"  Jane suggests asking our kids to rate our answer on a scale of 1-10, then asking what our child would like us to add or leave out.

Frequently asked questions & statements, and some possible responses:
"Where is she from?"  
My favorite thing to do in this situation is to say, "We live in Springfield. How about you?" Of course, they are usually asking where my child was born, but my answer is a cue to them that I am at the store (or whatever) to get my errand done, not to satisfy their curiosity.  Answering in the plural ("we"),  also prevents Anya Rashi from feeling singled out.  Most people have not continued the conversation after that.  If they persist in asking questions, I might say "Sorry -- we are in a hurry/we are watching the game, etc."  If people keep asking me questions, I also like to turn the tables and politely start asking them questions about where their family is from.  That strategy shifts the focus off of my daughter.

"She is beautiful/your family is beautiful."
Usually I just smile and say "thank you," and sometimes it ends there.  (After all, I happen to agree!)  If it's another mom with kids, I might pay a compliment back about her children, or ask their ages or something.  In my experience over the past 4 years, this question has often been a kind of introductory volley.  People sometimes use a compliment to start what they hope will be a longer conversation, with questions about our family.  If that it seems like that's where someone is headed, I might use body language and shift my attention/focus to indicate that the conversation is done.  I don't mean to be rude, but I won't be overly polite to a stranger at the expense of making Anya Rashi the unwilling focus of conversation.  If they are persistent, I might say, "Thanks for being interested in our family, but we don't give out information about any of our kids to someone we've just met."

Because our other children are boys, they are not sensitive to beauty-oriented questions.  But if we had biological or Caucasian adopted daughters who were continually overlooked in these conversations, I am sure these kinds of comments could be very hurtful.  If anyone has answers to this kind of situation, please feel free to chime in in the comments.

"Are they siblings?"
We don't have our next daughter home yet, but parents with more than one adopted child tell me they get this question all the time.  The shortest, most accurate answer is "Yes." You don't have to offer any other information.

"I don't know if I could love a child who is not mine/my real child." 
I've heard variations of this statement.  If it's a stranger who is clueless enough to say this IN FRONT of my daughter, then I'm sorry to say that I have no patience and am likely to say, "Then it's probably good you're not planning to adopt."  I might also say "Well, that's no problem, because she is mine/my real child."

Some of these answers look a little rude in print -- I always try to remain kind and polite, and I think my tone softens how blunt the answers look on the computer screen.  It's important to recognize how much, as women, we are raised to be polite or nice -- that alone is part of the uncomfortability of some of these answers.  But I do like to keep in mind the "intent vs. impact" issue, and land squarely in favor of protecting my daughter.

  I will post one more time on this topic next week.  Thanks for reading and considering this topic.

When strangers ask questions | Part 2

This is Part 2 in a series about how to deal with the intrusive questions strangers ask about our transracial families.  Many thanks to Jane Brown, MSW, for allowing me to share the insights she gained growing up in a family that fostered children, as an adoptive parent, and as a social worker who works with adoptees.

In my last post, I introduced Jane's idea about INTENT vs. IMPACT.  No matter how well-intentioned someone's questions are, we must always consider their impact on our children.  Equally, we must carefully consider what our answers teach our children about our honesty and trustworthiness.

Most adoptive parents at some point will choose the "educational" route -- your comments about the last post made me decide to address this specifically.  On some level, this seems natural -- we know about the many children waiting in foster care or orphanages, and we want to help others consider adoption.

So why not go the educational route?  Because from our children's perspective -- especially older children -- sometimes this can feel like a betrayal.  Often we have other reasons for adopting, and our kids will know if we tell them one story at home, but put a different, less accurate spin on it for strangers.

In Jane Brown's words: "If we 'educate the audience,' which means putting the focus on the fact that the children need permanent families, then we take the focus off of our other real motivation for adopting -- the one that was usually why we began to explore adoption in the first place."  [Such as  infertility, being unmarried, genetic considerations, etc.]

She goes on to explain that for some parents, this is self-protective:  it helps us avoid painful topics and the possibility that strangers will focus on us.  From Jane:  "We are, in effect, throwing them [our children] under the bus -- aiming the spotlight on them as THE PROJECT -- so as to keep it off of ourselves and our other motivation to adopt, whatever that was.  It is not honest to give the impression that we did something noble by adopting, when instead, adoption rescued US from childlessness in the majority of cases."


Jane acknowledges that this may be difficult to hear, or feel like an unflattering way to think of ourselves, but in the interest of raising our children well, it's important to be honest.


Like some who read this blog, we did not adopt because of infertility.  But Jane's words did make me realize I haven't told Anya Rashi the whole story, and I have not mentioned it to many people who ask why we adopted.  One reason we pursued adoption was that I have some significant back problems.  I have scoliosis, I injured my back in my early 20s, and my pelvic bones began to separate during my second pregnancy.

Last week, one wrong move put me in agony again.  It's been five years since I experienced this kind of severe pain, because I've learned to keep my back healthy through relentless core strength exercises and chiropractic visits.  If I miss exercising for even a few weeks, I pay a high price.

Our path to adoption was jump-started because of my bad back.  Although I had always thought adoption was something I might want to pursue, Peter hadn't really thought about it much aside from one conversation during our first year of marriage.  After living with pain for months after our second son was born, my doctor told me, "Well, I can't forbid you to get pregnant again, but there's just no way to tell how bad your back could get with further pregnancies."  There were many times I couldn't lay my small sons in their cribs, or help wash their hair in the bath, or even carry a basket of laundry or roll over in bed.  Peter and I never thought we'd have only two children, and hoped somehow to have a larger family.

As my kids and husband helped out while I was incapacitated last week, I realized I've neglected to include this part of our story when I talk with Anya Rashi about how she came into our family.  So Friday night, while I was tucking Anya Rashi into bed, I told her that I was grateful for my sore back this week.  She was surprised and asked why -- she had seen my gray, exhausted face and watched me hobble around all week, and wondered how I could possibly be thankful for that!

For the first time, I shared that part of our adoption story with her.  I told her how we had always hoped to have more children after her brothers were born -- but my bad back meant I couldn't have any more babies grow in my body.  I explained that we were sad for a few years, because we thought we might not have any more children.  Then I told her I'm actually glad for my back problems, even when it hurts -- because that's one of the reasons we decided to adopt, and now I get to have her for my daughter.  When we said bedtime prayers, I thanked God for the great blessing that came out of my back problems: my daughter Anya Rashi.

I hope that knowing this part of the story helps "balance the scales" a little bit in Anya Rashi's view, especially when she hears people comment about what a good thing we did by adopting her.  I always want her to know that she isn't a project or statement, but an answer to one of our deepest prayers to build our family.  I love how Jane Brown said it . . . adoption rescued us.

So . . . I didn't really list any answers to those intrusive questions -- but I promise that Part 3 will provide some guidance and ideas about what to say.  And in Part 4, I will take a look at how to talk about God and adoption, for those of us influenced to adopt by our religious beliefs.  Thanks for reading.

When strangers ask questions | Part 1

This post is the first in a series about how to handle intrusive questions about our transracial families.

 If you are a transracial family, you probably know what this post title is all about.  When we become parents to children who don't look like us (through adoption or step-parenting/marriage), we are instantly more visible to other people.  Many, many total strangers have asked us very personal questions about our daughter.

When Anya Rashi and I are by ourselves, we fly "under the radar" a little more.  People often assume that my husband is of another race -- I've had some hilarious and awkward encounters resulting from that assumption, like the time a cashier at the grocery store asked if an African-American man with gorgeous dreadlocks was my husband.  The poor man -- all he was doing was walking behind me while I stood in the  line.  Another time, a stranger walked up to Peter while he was holding Anya Rashi and started shouting, "Hola!!  Hola!!" at her, assuming she was Hispanic.  But the older she gets, the less humor there is in these situations.

Other times, people ask questions because they themselves are connected to adoption.  I've had some beautiful conversations with other adoptive parents that way.  Other times, they're just commenting on how beautiful my daughter is -- just as anyone might compliment a biological mother.

Then there are the other types of questions -- the ones about Anya Rashi's history, her birth place, and her birth parents and their circumstances.  If you are not an assertive person with good boundaries before adoption, you will likely have to grow into that type of person.  As she grows older, I have had to be more comfortable shutting down questions that embarrass her.  At this point, she is old enough to understand everything, and her personality is such that she does not like being the center of attention (or worse, being talked about as though she isn't standing right there).

This week, I was part of a great discussion on a transracial adoption forum about this very topic.  There is a wonderfully wise social worker who weighs in on these topics.  Jane Brown is able to offer unique insight, since she grew up in an ever-changing transracial family with parents who provided foster care.  She is now a licensed social worker who advocates and holds workshops for adoptees.  Children, teens, and grown adoptees have provided her with their perspectives about what it's like to be the unwilling center of attention, and offered their experiences as guidance for the adoptive parents in how to talk about adoption, deal with strangers' questions, and how to frame our reasons for adopting so our kids grow up with healthy identities.

One of the points she shared was about INTENT vs. IMPACT.  Many of the situations and questions I detailed above are very innocent in their intent.  People are interested in adoption, and when Anya Rashi was very young, I often took the "educational" approach.  I liked sharing about what a blessing she was to our family, and usually tried to use that approach to deflect the hero/rescuer status people bestowed on us, which seems demeaning to her -- it makes me feel like they think our daughter was some kind of project we took on to try and save the world.  Especially after she turned 3, I have deflected this kind of talk to keep her dignity as a unique person intact.

Ms. Brown has this to say:  "Regardless of whether someone is asking questions that are well-intended, the primary concern needs to be the IMPACT on the child..  A stranger will be momentarily affected by what you say and then forget about you, but your child is deeply and permanently impacted by the accumulation of responses you give.  He (or she) learns whether he matters ENOUGH to count more than strangers who are voyeuristically curious.  She learns whether your need to brag or educate others about adoption is more important, or whether her need to feel like everyone else -- protected from being constantly and continually singled out -- is more important to YOU, the person she depends on most in the world."

I will post again next week about ways to respond to invasive questions, and about how to talk about God in the context of adoption in ways that don't create confusion for our children.  Many thanks to Jane Brown, MSW, for helping me and many others to be more informed parents!

Losses

The past two weeks have been punctuated by some painful events.  We feel like we are in the eye of a hurricane, as several families we know and love go through tragic losses.  Some friends at church -- amazing, wonderful people and parents -- lost a child this week.  She was just 15, with so much to give, and so much life ahead of her.  Our hearts are so broken for them as they go on parenting their other children, and grieving for their daughter.

Another dear friend's marriage is ending despite all her best efforts, and she must now be apart from her baby half of the time.  Another family close to us is coming to grips with the reality that their child has a mental illness.  And others we know are bearing the burden of infertility and an excruciatingly long path to parenthood. 

Amidst all this came Mother's Day.  As always, I have spent a lot of time thinking of Anya Rashi's birth parents, and wonder what their circumstances are now, five years after her birth.  In many ways, their situation seems no less tragic than our friends' situations. 

We don't have much information about them (and we don't feel it's our place to share what we do know about their circumstances -- that's Anya Rashi's story to tell someday, if she chooses), but I am struck by the sadness of  any of the possible reasons for relinquishing their child.  For many children placed in orphanages in her birth country, the main reasons are the birth parents' poverty or the stigma of unwed parenthood -- or sometimes, the bias against girl children.  Sometimes I feel completely inadequate to explain any of this to her as she grows up.  I feel like I can only be present with her while she asks those questions, and offer the only certainty I have found:  that our God is a God of redemption, who can weave something beautiful of even the most profound sadness.

I've been holding on to that truth this week, and finding comfort here:

Isaiah 53:4
Surely he took on our burdens and carried our sorrows . . .

Psalm 34:18
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

   

Celebrating with Chana Saag

May 1 marked an important anniversary for our family: it was the day we received Anya Rashi's referral five years ago! I will always think of what our son Nathan (who had just turned 5 that week) said about this first photo of her: "She's as cute as a pie in spring!" He was right then -- and she still is today!

To celebrate, I thought I'd share a recipe for Chana Saag (chickpeas and spinach). I made this for dinner tonight.  This is a mild recipe, and very easy to prepare -- so it's perfect for those who are newer to Indian cooking. If you like a little more spice, increase the cayenne pepper and garam masala. If you've ever ordered Chana Saag in an Indian restaurant, you know that the spinach is usually cooked to the point of looking like it's been pureed. One thing I love about this recipe is that the spinach stays a little more lifelike. :o) Enjoy!

CHANA SAAG

2 Tbsp. oil or butter
1 large onion, chopped
6 cloves of garlic, minced (or use 1 1/2 tsp. garlic powder)
1 Tbsp. freshly grated ginger (or use 1/2 tsp. ground ginger)
2 tsp. ground coriander
1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. ground turmeric
1 1/2 tsp. garam masala
1/8 tsp. ground cayenne pepper
1 tsp. sea salt
15-oz. can diced tomatoes (and the juice)
1 lb. spinach (frozen works well; if using fresh, reduce cooking time)
2 cans chickpeas, rinsed and drained
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup milk or half-and-half

Saute onion in oil or butter until translucent. Add garlic, ginger and spices and saute for a minute or two.  Add tomatoes and let simmer for about 10 minutes; then add the chickpeas, spinach, and water. Stir every few minutes until spinach is thawed and hot, then simmer for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Just before serving, stir in the milk or half-and-half. Serve over jasmine or basmati rice.