17 May 2006
q&a 2
Kids do not want to be Different. Or Conspicuous. Or the object of public scrutiny.
Even if it's positive, or given a positive spin. Even if in fact the difference is a genuine point of pride for the child and the parent alike. My 6 kids all have different personalities. They run the gamut from totally outgoing to just-short-of-clinically introverted. Not a single one of them relishes being the object of anyone's scrutiny.
I think it's just developmental. Kids have enough work to do just growing up.
I am proud of each and every "difference" in my kids--even ones that only I can see. And no, I am not saying that telling some beaming passersby in the park that the adorable baby in the stroller was born in China and recently came home to her longing, loving parents is going to give her a complex.
What I am saying is that all of my kids have a right to be treated the "same" in public, or as near to the "same" as I can make it, as the other, less apparently different kids. I wouldn't entertain or encourage inquiries into the birth status of my DNA related child. Imagine being asked, "And were you married to her father at the time?" or "What position, exactly, were each of you in at conception?"
People understand that those questions are inappropriately intrusive. But the same people will feel that as long as they have good intentions, they are allowed to ask, "What are they?" or "Do you know anything about her real parents?" or "Are they related?" or "How old was she when you adopted her?" (And these are samples of the nice, albeit maladroit, questions I've fielded.)
While a proud parent might be intending to celebrate his/her child's incredible beauty and extraordinary story and plugging adoption at these so-called "teachable moments," you can probably make book on the fact that that child is not gonna like it. It's a fine line and sometimes an invisible one. But a child can genuinely be proud of her origin, of having been adopted, of being "different" and still wish with all her heart that her parent(s) wouldn't go "blabbing it" all over.
I used to resolve this "dilemma" by asking the child in question if she wanted to answer the apparently well-intentioned questions. Then I realized that I was still putting them on display.
I do understand being interested in and/or excited by the sight of a family that appears to have been formed by adoption--I've been there, looking on, longing, waiting, hoping. But now I understand what it feels like to be the child or the children standing around while Mom takes care of a stranger's need to know.
The internet is your friend if you are curious. You have Google to satisfy your curiosity; there are lots of Yahoo Groups full of people who have formed "conspicuous families," or are in the process of doing so who really want to answer your questions and help you in your quest.
My kids are beautiful, interesting, and very very noticeable. So yes, notice them, smile at me, and say nothing more than what you'd say to a family where all the features of all the members "match" (whatever that means).
And then go home and log on.
'Nuff said.
Even if it's positive, or given a positive spin. Even if in fact the difference is a genuine point of pride for the child and the parent alike. My 6 kids all have different personalities. They run the gamut from totally outgoing to just-short-of-clinically introverted. Not a single one of them relishes being the object of anyone's scrutiny.
I think it's just developmental. Kids have enough work to do just growing up.
I am proud of each and every "difference" in my kids--even ones that only I can see. And no, I am not saying that telling some beaming passersby in the park that the adorable baby in the stroller was born in China and recently came home to her longing, loving parents is going to give her a complex.
What I am saying is that all of my kids have a right to be treated the "same" in public, or as near to the "same" as I can make it, as the other, less apparently different kids. I wouldn't entertain or encourage inquiries into the birth status of my DNA related child. Imagine being asked, "And were you married to her father at the time?" or "What position, exactly, were each of you in at conception?"
People understand that those questions are inappropriately intrusive. But the same people will feel that as long as they have good intentions, they are allowed to ask, "What are they?" or "Do you know anything about her real parents?" or "Are they related?" or "How old was she when you adopted her?" (And these are samples of the nice, albeit maladroit, questions I've fielded.)
While a proud parent might be intending to celebrate his/her child's incredible beauty and extraordinary story and plugging adoption at these so-called "teachable moments," you can probably make book on the fact that that child is not gonna like it. It's a fine line and sometimes an invisible one. But a child can genuinely be proud of her origin, of having been adopted, of being "different" and still wish with all her heart that her parent(s) wouldn't go "blabbing it" all over.
I used to resolve this "dilemma" by asking the child in question if she wanted to answer the apparently well-intentioned questions. Then I realized that I was still putting them on display.
I do understand being interested in and/or excited by the sight of a family that appears to have been formed by adoption--I've been there, looking on, longing, waiting, hoping. But now I understand what it feels like to be the child or the children standing around while Mom takes care of a stranger's need to know.
The internet is your friend if you are curious. You have Google to satisfy your curiosity; there are lots of Yahoo Groups full of people who have formed "conspicuous families," or are in the process of doing so who really want to answer your questions and help you in your quest.
My kids are beautiful, interesting, and very very noticeable. So yes, notice them, smile at me, and say nothing more than what you'd say to a family where all the features of all the members "match" (whatever that means).
And then go home and log on.
'Nuff said.
