Understanding the Drop in International Adoptions
On April 1, the U.S. Department of State released statistics on Americans who adopted children from abroad in 2015. For the tenth year in a row, the total declined, reaching a 35-year low.
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A blog about Ethiopian adoption, transracial parenting and general mommying.
Friday, May 6, 2016
Rebecca Compton - Understanding the Drop in International Adoptions
On April 1, the U.S. Department of State released statistics on Americans who adopted children from abroad in 2015. For the tenth year in a row, the total declined, reaching a 35-year low.
Thursday, April 28, 2016
Competitive sports - you're swimming for your team. Not yourself.
Julian - It's not about whether you made A Division, Double B or Junior Olympian. You can stop belly aching about whether or not you, personally, are great or whether you are going to "lose." That is stress you don't need anyway. Please put that behind you. Here is the gift about team sports. It's not about you. It's not even about "racing against your own time," a meaningless phrase parents use to cajole their anxious children. That kind of thinking defeats the purpose of team sports. Your personal performance is not what being on a team is about. Being on a team is about what you can do to help the team. It's a beauty, a challenge and an honor.
I realized we had a problem when you wanted to leave immediately after your two races. You had no interest in watching your teammates' races (because you have other stuff to do). You do have other stuff to do. And you are busy. I know that. I drive a lot. But I drove an hour and a half to watch you swim a few minutes of glory and to cheer you on. It is a hollow victory if that is all it is about. Your personal best is not why you are swimming with a swim team.
You're swimming for Coach Tom who has committed his career to helping kids like you see their dreams come true. You're swimming for all the other boys and girls who get together, sometimes happily, two or three days a week. You're swimming for the feeling you have being part of a little group of kids who showed up from Solo to compete against bigger teams like PASA, that have more resources and, well, practice more.
You get to keep the ribbons, but Solo took second and fifth place today (50 Back and 200 Free). The team. Your team. That's why you are here. And so you know, - I am really happy for you right now.
So get yourself a hot chocolate and settle in. We are staying for the rest of the afternoon to cheer on the other children of parents who got up at 6am and drove an hour and a half to watch a 36 second race.
Friday, February 12, 2016
How to get a volunteer position at the science fair
It is almost impossible to get a volunteer position at my kids' elementary school. To give you an example, we have one parent volunteer for each two kids at the Fantastic Friday Math Facts - these things are in the middle of the day. The spots are all full and there is a wait list for substitutes. I have only gotten in once. Your chances of chaperoning a field trip are lower than winning the lottery.
Anyway I happened to be at the school when I saw 50 parent volunteers smugly filing into the gym for the Science Fair. I thought "Hmmm... I wish I could volunteer for the Science Fair." But of course, that would never happen because I would have had to know about the Science Fair in the beginning of August (and be one of the first 50 parent volunteers to sign up).
So then I thought well what if I just walk in there, fill out a name tag and stand behind one of the tables? They are not going to check my name against a list like I am trying to get into a club. So I did it. Yes, I crashed the Science Fair. Isaac saw me immediately and he was soooo happy to see me there working the booth. For an instant, it really felt like it was all worthwhile and I was doing the mommy thing right. At least that day. But then he became suspicious (I could see it on his face) because he knows I do not have the wherewithal to volunteer in an advance for an esteemed position like the Science Fair. I actually had to ask him not to narc me out to the PTA. But you know what? It worked. And it was great. It really was great.
Related: About the Mom Profile
Saturday, January 30, 2016
Benched at 8-years-old (Competitive sports/basketball)
Benched !?!
I just spent an entire season trying to teach Isaac not to duck every time the ball comes to him (and also to run - rather than skip - down the court).
I found out at the pizza party (to which I was not invited) there was great controversy, basically because of Isaac. Some of the dads were angry because at the last game, the "championship" game, all the kids were allowed the chance to play (not just the best players). Apparently, parents felt the "championship" game was not serious enough - not real basketball. The coach actually sent out an email apologizing for it.
The thing is, that last game of the season was Isaac's best game. It was also the first time I have seen him actually try to shoot. Yes, he shot at our team's basket. But he didn't make the shot anyway, so does it really matter? I was proud of him. I was proud he tried and I was proud to see him summon the courage to get out there but they were probably talking about that incident at the pizza party too.
I know some of this may be my own insecurity. I played sports my whole life but I was never very good. And by never very good, I mean I sucked. At most of them anyway. If there were a Hall of Fame for benches, my face would not be in it. The imprint of my ass would be. But I still played a lot of sports. More importantly, I was a great team-mate and an enthusiastic supporter. And I passed the ball a lot.
Here is the other thing. Some of my kids did not develop typically. They walked late, had an unusual gait and do not have the coordination of other children. I think if other parents understood that, they might be more sympathetic than they are. But maybe not. I don't know. And it doesn't matter anyway. All my kids play sports - all of them. And they play sports even if they suck. They play sports because I believe a person's body and mind are connected. I also believe that sports are part of growing up as a person and living honorably and fully in the world with other people.
Not all our kids are going to make varsity. But these kids are K through 2nd Graders. In a few years, there will not be a chance for recreational basketball, it will all be varsity. Btw, this wasn't even a school league, it was just a private group. You pay $180, practice nine times and then have a "championship" game against the other half of the private team. So why are we pushing the kids now? Why are parents disappointed the championship game wasn't a "real" game? Is the goal to teach children how to play a "real" basketball game? Or is the goal to teach children basketball skills, how to be great team-mates and how to be enthusiastic supporters?
Tiger parents - I was once one of you. All these children are precious. Let's dial it back a bit.
Related: Bad Swim Meet
I found out at the pizza party (to which I was not invited) there was great controversy, basically because of Isaac. Some of the dads were angry because at the last game, the "championship" game, all the kids were allowed the chance to play (not just the best players). Apparently, parents felt the "championship" game was not serious enough - not real basketball. The coach actually sent out an email apologizing for it.
The thing is, that last game of the season was Isaac's best game. It was also the first time I have seen him actually try to shoot. Yes, he shot at our team's basket. But he didn't make the shot anyway, so does it really matter? I was proud of him. I was proud he tried and I was proud to see him summon the courage to get out there but they were probably talking about that incident at the pizza party too.
I know some of this may be my own insecurity. I played sports my whole life but I was never very good. And by never very good, I mean I sucked. At most of them anyway. If there were a Hall of Fame for benches, my face would not be in it. The imprint of my ass would be. But I still played a lot of sports. More importantly, I was a great team-mate and an enthusiastic supporter. And I passed the ball a lot.
Here is the other thing. Some of my kids did not develop typically. They walked late, had an unusual gait and do not have the coordination of other children. I think if other parents understood that, they might be more sympathetic than they are. But maybe not. I don't know. And it doesn't matter anyway. All my kids play sports - all of them. And they play sports even if they suck. They play sports because I believe a person's body and mind are connected. I also believe that sports are part of growing up as a person and living honorably and fully in the world with other people.
Not all our kids are going to make varsity. But these kids are K through 2nd Graders. In a few years, there will not be a chance for recreational basketball, it will all be varsity. Btw, this wasn't even a school league, it was just a private group. You pay $180, practice nine times and then have a "championship" game against the other half of the private team. So why are we pushing the kids now? Why are parents disappointed the championship game wasn't a "real" game? Is the goal to teach children how to play a "real" basketball game? Or is the goal to teach children basketball skills, how to be great team-mates and how to be enthusiastic supporters?
Tiger parents - I was once one of you. All these children are precious. Let's dial it back a bit.
Related: Bad Swim Meet
Sunday, January 17, 2016
Ethiopian adoptees and the crisis of culture
Thank you Addis Kidan Church of San Francisco!
We were blessed this week by an unexpected invitation. Addis Kidan, an Ethiopian Church in San Francisco, threw open its doors and invited local families who have adopted Ethiopian children to come for Orthodox Christmas (celebrated in January).
The truth is, we have been starved for Ethiopian culture and the chance to spend holidays with Ethiopian families (any holidays actually - we are not even Christian :). It's funny now when I think about the innocence of my early dreams. I had been fascinated by Ethiopia since my time studying in Israel decades earlier. I thought, when we made the decision to adopt, that we were inviting part of the people and country we had grown to love into our lives. Somehow it would be a natural part of our family. The reality, of course, was much more complicated. After Kulani came home, I tried to find Ethiopian families and rekindle friendships with their children. But it didn't work out that way. The whole situation was awkward for a lot of reasons. People did not know what to do with us.
Maybe I was having a Dolezalial crisis of identity or maybe I need to explore what part of my consciousness is affected by my own ethnocentrism. It is ridiculous to think we would adopt a child from another country and then have some kind of international presence in our family, especially in light of what I now understand about inter-country adoption. I would not change a single thing and would do it all over again a hundred times. But it was hubris to think that because Kulani became our daughter, our family would suddenly be part Ethiopian.
But as far as the crisis goes, I did not see this coming. I actually go back (with and without Kulani) as often as possible. She even had two passports until they figured it out at Bole Airport and confiscated her Ethiopian passport on our last trip. But the truth is, as much as I wished Kulani to have a dual identity, she is no longer Ethiopian. She does not look Ethiopian - her clothes, her mannerisms, her language, her gait and of course the fact that she is hanging out with me - all give her away as an outsider. She is American now and it is obvious.
Looking back, I remember with new awareness an experience we had at our first Court hearing in Addis. The judge asked me whether the culture of our daughter's birth was important to me and whether I had plans to help her experience and embrace her identity. In my excitement and pride of research, I told her there was a large Ethiopian community not far from where we live. I told her about my plans to make connections with Ethiopian families and my hopes to make friends. She looked up sharply from her papers and said "No, I mean with other adopted children."
The truth is, by the time she was old enough to have meaningful friendships, Kuleni's Ethiopian friends - all of them - were other children adopted internationally. We adoptive families only had each other. We never really talked about it like that, but that's all we had. We got together once a month or so to prepare Ethiopian dishes we learned to make on the internet. We signed our children up for "Habesha" dance classes, tried to remember the few Amharic words we could pronounce, traded secrets about hair care and raised money for things. It was hardly the embrace of globalism of my dreams.
So when Addis Kidan reached out to us, I was thrilled. It wasn't just me, either. It was everyone apparently because there are only 50 or 60 people in the church but they had to close the Evite after 100 people RSVP'd. I think every family in the Bay Area with adopted Ethiopian children came to the party.
The part I love most about this is how much luck and circumstance when into the whole gathering. It was so random. One of our members started dropping her daughter at the church for a teen group that meets there. The Pastor looked outside, noticed a white woman in the car and became curious. He was told that "oh yeah. Didn't you know? So and so is adopted..." He asked whether any of her friends would like to come to the church to meet the Ethiopian families and ... well... Yes! All of us! :)
Related: International/Intercountry Adoption
We were blessed this week by an unexpected invitation. Addis Kidan, an Ethiopian Church in San Francisco, threw open its doors and invited local families who have adopted Ethiopian children to come for Orthodox Christmas (celebrated in January). |
| Kulani: Fingers, yes. Tongue, no (I think she likes the food) |
Maybe I was having a Dolezalial crisis of identity or maybe I need to explore what part of my consciousness is affected by my own ethnocentrism. It is ridiculous to think we would adopt a child from another country and then have some kind of international presence in our family, especially in light of what I now understand about inter-country adoption. I would not change a single thing and would do it all over again a hundred times. But it was hubris to think that because Kulani became our daughter, our family would suddenly be part Ethiopian.
But as far as the crisis goes, I did not see this coming. I actually go back (with and without Kulani) as often as possible. She even had two passports until they figured it out at Bole Airport and confiscated her Ethiopian passport on our last trip. But the truth is, as much as I wished Kulani to have a dual identity, she is no longer Ethiopian. She does not look Ethiopian - her clothes, her mannerisms, her language, her gait and of course the fact that she is hanging out with me - all give her away as an outsider. She is American now and it is obvious.
Looking back, I remember with new awareness an experience we had at our first Court hearing in Addis. The judge asked me whether the culture of our daughter's birth was important to me and whether I had plans to help her experience and embrace her identity. In my excitement and pride of research, I told her there was a large Ethiopian community not far from where we live. I told her about my plans to make connections with Ethiopian families and my hopes to make friends. She looked up sharply from her papers and said "No, I mean with other adopted children."
The truth is, by the time she was old enough to have meaningful friendships, Kuleni's Ethiopian friends - all of them - were other children adopted internationally. We adoptive families only had each other. We never really talked about it like that, but that's all we had. We got together once a month or so to prepare Ethiopian dishes we learned to make on the internet. We signed our children up for "Habesha" dance classes, tried to remember the few Amharic words we could pronounce, traded secrets about hair care and raised money for things. It was hardly the embrace of globalism of my dreams.
So when Addis Kidan reached out to us, I was thrilled. It wasn't just me, either. It was everyone apparently because there are only 50 or 60 people in the church but they had to close the Evite after 100 people RSVP'd. I think every family in the Bay Area with adopted Ethiopian children came to the party.
The part I love most about this is how much luck and circumstance when into the whole gathering. It was so random. One of our members started dropping her daughter at the church for a teen group that meets there. The Pastor looked outside, noticed a white woman in the car and became curious. He was told that "oh yeah. Didn't you know? So and so is adopted..." He asked whether any of her friends would like to come to the church to meet the Ethiopian families and ... well... Yes! All of us! :)
Related: International/Intercountry Adoption
Tuesday, January 5, 2016
Saturday, November 28, 2015
Adopting children who need to be adopted
A family who adopted not one but two children (internationally) who
have severe medical needs inspired me tonight (Okay, that's an understatement). I am sobbing in happiness and sadness and people like this family. Their four year old daughter had a heart condition
and was blind when they decided to adopt her. They knew she was terminally ill but they brought her to
Texas anyway and became her family for a short time until she died 33
days later. May her memory be for a blessing.
A family broken by grief finds strength that leads to the greatest blessing of all: Family.
dfw.cbslocal.com|By CBS DFW
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