I suppose having two posts for the holidays makes sense. It's an important time of year, and a time when family is even more on the mind than usual.
Did you know that one of the biggest problems facing kids in foster care is aging out of the system? Actually turning eighteen, or in some states twenty-one, without a permanent adoptive family being found for them?
We have this idea that the need for parents stops at eighteen. Certainly a lot of eighteen year olds would agree with that statement. And maybe the need for parenting does stop then, or around then, or even before then. I mean, I remember my teenage years and how I thought I was perfectly able to deal with most of the things happening in my world. Looking back on it, I was able to deal pretty well, too. But you know why? Because I had a loving family to support me in my decisions. Sure, by fifteen I was pretty independent. My mother was more of a roommate than a parent in a lot of ways. But she was still there, and I knew she would always have my back. Always.
Kids aging out of the foster care system might be capable. They might be independent. They might manage pretty well. But they don't have a family.
They don't have a place to go for holidays, or someone to call for advice when they're feeling lost and alone. I can't even imagine what that's like.
The closest I've ever been was the Thanksgiving of my junior year of college when I was working retail so I didn't have time off on Black Friday to go home to see my family. It was the year my mother met the man who has since become my step-father. I spent that Thanksgiving alone. It was depressing as hell. Much as I love cranberry sauce from a can, and as many years as it's been on our Thanksgiving table, neatly cut along the fancy can-lines, it's different when you're facing it alone paired with a turkey sandwich. I didn't have a phone that month, either. It was a horrible weekend that even now, some fifteen or so years later, sticks out in my memory as one of the low points of my twenties. And that was knowing that it was just the once, just bad circumstances.
Sure, I don't get home to see my family as much as I'd like. Traveling to see them requires a combination of time off from work, extra money to afford the gas/food/fun, and a dog sitter. Rarely do those things all align perfectly to allow me to travel. But I still know they're there. I know they think of me and love me. And I've made my own family, too. Friends are, after all, the family we choose. Even when I don't get home, I know I'm not alone.
Like I said, I can't even imagine what that's truly like.
So on this second to last day of Yule, I'd like to make my wish. I won't call it a Christmas wish, since I don't celebrate that holiday. Still, I make it in that spirit, and it isn't entirely for me, so maybe the gods will smile on it. Mother Holle, who loved children, even those who weren't hers, watch out for the ones with no family to protect them. And if You're so inclined, maybe send one my way this year?
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
There are a lot of things to love about this time of year. A lot of memories of special times, special years. Of people who have since passed on and now only live in the stories we share with each other. There are a lot of traditions. This is the time of year when my cynical side is fairly well balanced with my emotional side. Sure, I joke about the War on Christmas, make note of Christian-privilege, and groan about the use of pagan holiday traditions rebranded to make them acceptable for mass marketing purposes. The Heathen in me cringes every time I hear about Santa, the 'Christmas' tree, gifts... actually, pretty much EVERY SINGLE THING about the modern celebration of Christmas. But that's another topic and not what I want to dwell on today.
No, today I want to write about the importance of family at the holidays.
If there's ever a time of year I miss my family, it's now. Sure, there are times I wax nostalgic in the summer, like when I smell the scent of rain water on hot concrete, or drive past a pool with kids splashing around. But most of my strongest memories are about the holiday season. Like the year Timmy was SURE there was no Santa, and someone climbed up on the roof to make a bunch of noise and give his parents one more year. Or the time Santa's eyebrow fell off while Crystal was sitting on his lap and it went down the front of her dress (that might have been someone else, now I'll have to check). The year they gave a baby Jonny a turkey leg at Thanksgiving and he teethed on it for hours. Most of my memories aren't about the things we got, although there were a few things that stand out in that regard, but rather about the joy and love that was so strong when the family gathered at Grandma and Grandpa's house on Christmas Eve.
This year I didn't get a chance to see family. I had neither vacation time nor money nor cooperative weather to allow me a chance to travel home. I'd hoped to make the trip, but the stars just didn't align. Fortunately for me, there's Facebook, so I at least got to see the pictures. It made me miss them even more.
It makes me wonder what next year will be like. Will I have a child of my own? Will they be welcomed by my family? Will they even want to be? I can only hope that the answer to all of those questions is a resounding yes. Next year, will I join the masses trying to score whatever the new gift of the year is? For what it's worth, not even a kid is going to get me out on Black Friday to Walmart, but there's always the internet, right? Will they want lots of 'stuff' because they haven't had it? Or will having a family be the best gift of all? I suppose I can only wait and see.
No, today I want to write about the importance of family at the holidays.
If there's ever a time of year I miss my family, it's now. Sure, there are times I wax nostalgic in the summer, like when I smell the scent of rain water on hot concrete, or drive past a pool with kids splashing around. But most of my strongest memories are about the holiday season. Like the year Timmy was SURE there was no Santa, and someone climbed up on the roof to make a bunch of noise and give his parents one more year. Or the time Santa's eyebrow fell off while Crystal was sitting on his lap and it went down the front of her dress (that might have been someone else, now I'll have to check). The year they gave a baby Jonny a turkey leg at Thanksgiving and he teethed on it for hours. Most of my memories aren't about the things we got, although there were a few things that stand out in that regard, but rather about the joy and love that was so strong when the family gathered at Grandma and Grandpa's house on Christmas Eve.
This year I didn't get a chance to see family. I had neither vacation time nor money nor cooperative weather to allow me a chance to travel home. I'd hoped to make the trip, but the stars just didn't align. Fortunately for me, there's Facebook, so I at least got to see the pictures. It made me miss them even more.
It makes me wonder what next year will be like. Will I have a child of my own? Will they be welcomed by my family? Will they even want to be? I can only hope that the answer to all of those questions is a resounding yes. Next year, will I join the masses trying to score whatever the new gift of the year is? For what it's worth, not even a kid is going to get me out on Black Friday to Walmart, but there's always the internet, right? Will they want lots of 'stuff' because they haven't had it? Or will having a family be the best gift of all? I suppose I can only wait and see.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
The Problems With Honesty
You know that old saying about honest being the best policy? Yeah. I don't, in principle, disagree with that. Especially when it comes to talking with an adoption worker. They always tell you that you should be honest with your caseworker, and I believe that, too. After all, they should, in theory, want the same thing as you: to match you to the best possible child for your family. If you lie to them, and try to only show them the good things, then they aren't getting the full picture. Personally, I see this as a potential disaster in the making. On the other hand, caseworkers are human, too. They have their own preconceived notions about a variety of things. Sometimes I think they have even more than most of the other social workers I've had the pleasure to work with in my life. Or maybe its that the sort of women (most of the ones I've met are women) who are drawn to working with adoption agencies tend to come from a certain socio-religious standpoint. Not surprising, since the adoption agencies are, by and large, Christian organizations.
Here in Lansing, there are five licensed agencies to do homestudies. One is through a tribal authority who only works with native families and native youth. The other four are Child and Family Charities, St. Vincent Catholic Charities, Lutheran Social Services, and Bethany Christian Services.
See the similarity? Remember how I said I was Heathen? Honesty is still the best policy. Here's the test on whether I can work with an agency. The conversation goes something like this:
Me: I understand that 99% of the kids in the foster system are at least nominally Christian. They'll fall somewhere on a spectrum. On one side of the spectrum are the kids who desperately want a family who will buy them Christmas presents. They aren't really believers so much as they've grown up in a culture that prizes Christmas as a time for families to come together and they have never had that, or haven't had it in a long time. The other end of this spectrum are the true believers. The ones who, if you ask them for their top three wishes might say something like 'I wish I could go back in time and meet Jesus' or that say they want a real Christian family to go to church with. As a non-Christian (I don't usually bother with the exact flavor of non-Christian as it's pretty meaningless to them), I don't mind the first scenario, but neither the child nor I would be very happy with the second. I don't want to adopt a child who's going to want to save me. It wouldn't be a good fit.
Now, the caseworker can have one of two reactions. Either they get it, or they say something inane, like the woman who said in response: but you'd still take them to church, right?
... what part of not Christian did she miss? Or that a child who wants to go to church isn't going to be happy in my home? No. I'm not going to take them to church. At least not a church they'd recognize as such....
Yet I feel strongly that the caseworker should know this.
Here's another thing they need to know. I'm not organized. My life isn't structured. I don't have a normal schedule. I don't have a 9-5 job. Some nights, I work until 10. Some days I don't go in until noon. I have a lot of flexibility in my job, but it is anything but normal hours. What this means is I won't have to miss fieldtrips. Or piano recitals. I can be a room mom and a guest speaker and a volunteer. But it also means that a kid who needs to have the same routine everyday isn't going to thrive in my world. Sure, my roommate has that 9-5 job, but I don't.
So should I lie about that? No, I don't think I should. Because again, I want a successful placement, and I feel pretty strongly that being honest about things will allow that to happen. So why does it sometimes feel like the caseworker wants me to lie about myself and my life? Not that I expect anyone to have an answer for that.
Here in Lansing, there are five licensed agencies to do homestudies. One is through a tribal authority who only works with native families and native youth. The other four are Child and Family Charities, St. Vincent Catholic Charities, Lutheran Social Services, and Bethany Christian Services.
See the similarity? Remember how I said I was Heathen? Honesty is still the best policy. Here's the test on whether I can work with an agency. The conversation goes something like this:
Me: I understand that 99% of the kids in the foster system are at least nominally Christian. They'll fall somewhere on a spectrum. On one side of the spectrum are the kids who desperately want a family who will buy them Christmas presents. They aren't really believers so much as they've grown up in a culture that prizes Christmas as a time for families to come together and they have never had that, or haven't had it in a long time. The other end of this spectrum are the true believers. The ones who, if you ask them for their top three wishes might say something like 'I wish I could go back in time and meet Jesus' or that say they want a real Christian family to go to church with. As a non-Christian (I don't usually bother with the exact flavor of non-Christian as it's pretty meaningless to them), I don't mind the first scenario, but neither the child nor I would be very happy with the second. I don't want to adopt a child who's going to want to save me. It wouldn't be a good fit.
Now, the caseworker can have one of two reactions. Either they get it, or they say something inane, like the woman who said in response: but you'd still take them to church, right?
... what part of not Christian did she miss? Or that a child who wants to go to church isn't going to be happy in my home? No. I'm not going to take them to church. At least not a church they'd recognize as such....
Yet I feel strongly that the caseworker should know this.
Here's another thing they need to know. I'm not organized. My life isn't structured. I don't have a normal schedule. I don't have a 9-5 job. Some nights, I work until 10. Some days I don't go in until noon. I have a lot of flexibility in my job, but it is anything but normal hours. What this means is I won't have to miss fieldtrips. Or piano recitals. I can be a room mom and a guest speaker and a volunteer. But it also means that a kid who needs to have the same routine everyday isn't going to thrive in my world. Sure, my roommate has that 9-5 job, but I don't.
So should I lie about that? No, I don't think I should. Because again, I want a successful placement, and I feel pretty strongly that being honest about things will allow that to happen. So why does it sometimes feel like the caseworker wants me to lie about myself and my life? Not that I expect anyone to have an answer for that.
Monday, December 23, 2013
Introductions
I've never been good at keeping a journal. Or rather, I'll write in it for a time, and then I'll get distracted and not come back. The reason I'm starting this blog, though, is specific, and maybe, because of that, I'll actually manage to do what I've never managed before. Don't hold your breath. Okay, maybe for a little bit. Because this is something near and dear to my heart. Not literally. I've recently had some friends and family with heart problems, so I know that this who family/parenthood thing isn't actually near my heart, nor will the health of my heart have any real impact on it. But that's how the saying goes, right?
So. A bit about me, in case you somehow stumble across this in your readings and wonder what you stumbled across.
I'm thirty-six. Female. And in the process of getting divorced. I'm also in the process of adopting. And saying in the process is quite accurate for both. It's one heck of a long process. Filled with serious frustrations. Sometimes I feel like everything in my life is telling me to hurry up, and then to waitwaitwait! This blog is an attempt to write about the experience of the latter since, even though I've been married since I was twenty-two, this is the first time I've actively sought out and chosen the idea of having a family of my own. A choice that ultimately has propelled me out of a marriage that had lots of issues (what marriage doesn't?) and down the path that I'm currently on.
Something else you should know about me, I'm a Heathen. Likely, you don't even know what that means. Most people don't. Heathen is, at least for me, a religion and a culture both. It's an embracing of the values that were held most dear by my ancestors, and putting aside the baggage of the last thousand and more years that came with the conversion to Christianity. It's giving up the guilt and the shame, and instead embracing the virtues of my Northern European forebears. Heathenry is a pagan path, the same way that Hinduism is a pagan path. Needless to say, this complicates the adoption process. That will be a post. Maybe even a series of posts. But it's also a big part of why having a family means so much to me. To leave it out of this blog would be a huge mistake. That said, this isn't, at least at this time, a blog about my religion. I might explore aspects of my religion that relate to family here, but this isn't a Heathen 101 blog. Or even a blog about how I found and am traveling my spiritual path.
So, thank you for reading this, no matter how you found it. I look forward to writing it as I can. Maybe having my thoughts on this journey out here for the world to read will encourage others like me to take the dive into the adoption pool. Or maybe it will scare them off. Maybe it will show people that the values that I have embraced in my spiritual path only strengthen my commitment to family. But no matter what, know that this is a journey that I'm excited to be on, because in the end, I'll have the most important thing in the world. A Family.
So. A bit about me, in case you somehow stumble across this in your readings and wonder what you stumbled across.
I'm thirty-six. Female. And in the process of getting divorced. I'm also in the process of adopting. And saying in the process is quite accurate for both. It's one heck of a long process. Filled with serious frustrations. Sometimes I feel like everything in my life is telling me to hurry up, and then to waitwaitwait! This blog is an attempt to write about the experience of the latter since, even though I've been married since I was twenty-two, this is the first time I've actively sought out and chosen the idea of having a family of my own. A choice that ultimately has propelled me out of a marriage that had lots of issues (what marriage doesn't?) and down the path that I'm currently on.
Something else you should know about me, I'm a Heathen. Likely, you don't even know what that means. Most people don't. Heathen is, at least for me, a religion and a culture both. It's an embracing of the values that were held most dear by my ancestors, and putting aside the baggage of the last thousand and more years that came with the conversion to Christianity. It's giving up the guilt and the shame, and instead embracing the virtues of my Northern European forebears. Heathenry is a pagan path, the same way that Hinduism is a pagan path. Needless to say, this complicates the adoption process. That will be a post. Maybe even a series of posts. But it's also a big part of why having a family means so much to me. To leave it out of this blog would be a huge mistake. That said, this isn't, at least at this time, a blog about my religion. I might explore aspects of my religion that relate to family here, but this isn't a Heathen 101 blog. Or even a blog about how I found and am traveling my spiritual path.
So, thank you for reading this, no matter how you found it. I look forward to writing it as I can. Maybe having my thoughts on this journey out here for the world to read will encourage others like me to take the dive into the adoption pool. Or maybe it will scare them off. Maybe it will show people that the values that I have embraced in my spiritual path only strengthen my commitment to family. But no matter what, know that this is a journey that I'm excited to be on, because in the end, I'll have the most important thing in the world. A Family.
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