Here’s a story from the world’s oldest blogger, of how she was bullied and how she solved it.
Olive is 107 and as feisty as my grandmother was. I think I’d like her! What a gal! (I miss my grandma!)
I was once told by my older daughter’s school that bullying is just a natural part of junior high and high school. I think not! was basically what I said.
Now, of course, they take a no-bullying stance, but it was sure a long time coming. And I’m not sure they can solve what takes place after school.
Have you ever been bullied? how did you solve it? (Me, I left quickly the place where I should not have been alone. I never told my mother either!)
I am rarely at a loss for words. Some in my family would argue I talk too much, have strong opinions on too many subjects. I recently met someone friends have been trying to hook me up with for weeks. She has biological sons and is planning to adopt a daughter. (I am still looking for an adoption professional who knows a family who had bio daughters and adopted to get a son–but that’s a different post.)
She had heard about me, and I must admit I was excited to talk to her–another multiracial family in our community! (I should know better by now.) I asked all the standard questions and, with a sinking heart, received all the standard answers. They chose international adoption because they were told they couldn’t choose gender with a domestic adoption, and they don’t want ongoing contact with birthfamily (although she likes the idea of meeting their child’s birthfamily once). They chose Ethiopia because the children are young and healthy, there are girls available, and the wait for China is getting long (up to 2+ years). They also find “African culture fascinating†although neither parent has travelled to the continent. Her husband was adopted (domestic, same-race, closed) and has no contact nor desire for contact with his birthfamily, which led to her comment that he is one of the
most well-adjusted adopted people she knows. Her brother was adopted (international, transracial) and she described him as messed-up with no opinion about their plans to adopt. They do not plan to adopt a second child of color.
She left to tend to one of her children, and I felt something inside of me I was not expecting. I was about to cry. What is surprising about this situation is how it gets me every single time–because this could be the description of more than half the internationally adopting families I know. (Actually, this family has more direct adult-adoptee connections than most adopting families.)
Part of what pushes me to tears (not in front of her, thank god) is the total frustration I feel. How can I possibly reach this woman? How much White Privilege is at work in the world, in our society, in an individual White family’s life (with an adult sibling of color, no less) that a couple’s choice to adopt includes considerations of (a) gender, (b) health, (c) amount of time the adoptive family will have to wait, but NOT (d) what it will be like for their child to grow up as the only child of color in their family and one of the few people of color in the community, or (e) what it means to become an inclusive, educated,multiracial family.
As my husband pointed out, no one has to complete a class or fill out a race-awareness form before they become a multiracial family through birth, and I don’t believe they should. What is different about creating a multiracial family biologically is that an adult of color (and usually their extended family) is present in the child’s life–and the White parent first has an intimate relationship with this adult of color. In the case of transracial adoption, White parents do not have to know (or have ever known) anyone who shares their child’s heritage; and suddenly they are head of a multiracial family. If White parents are not fully invested in learning about their child’s heritage and incorporating their child’s culture into the family’s traditions and culture, this responsibility falls to the child. The fact that race does not seem to matter to many transracially adopting parents is the epitome of White
Privilege.
White adult can say things like, “Race doesn’t matter to me,†or “I don’t see race.†But I have yet to meet an adult of color in this country whose experience would allow them to say such a thing. It is scientifically true that all people are part of a single human race; however, the societal construct of different races affects us all.
I don’t know if a person can learn about their own unearned privilege until they are ready and open. I didn’t consciously process my multi-level privilege for many years. Nowadays I refuse to be closeted
by passing. Periodically my husband threatens to remove the bumper stickers from our car because he is frustrated by all the tailgaters. But he also laughs when he is out with the kids and one of their uncles, and people clearly assume they are a young gay couple with children.
Maybe I should offer this woman some of my stickers.
The stickers too small to read:
Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our minds. ~Bob Marley~
What you think, you become. ~Buddha~
Love Thy Enemies implies not killing them.
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people to peaceably
assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.
~The First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States~
Natasha Sky
As a child, I would lay in the grass face up looking at clouds and find pictures in them. Today, I’m more apt to just appreciate them as I drive along.
I like a cloudy day as it cuts the heat by 10 degrees, and it’s rare to have a day that is entirely cloudy. In Michigan, it would be cloudy for days, so we welcomed the sun. Now that I don’t sit out in the sun, the clouds are just fine by me.
I had a friend call about a week ago and ask me if it being overcast bothered me. Nope, I like it. (It was bothering her.) (We’ve needed rain, and it is such a blessing to have it.)
I know I’ve said before that I like storms. I don’t even mind hurricanes so much except for the aftermath with no electricity. (Obviously I take that back for the huge storms that cause loss of life or homes.) (And I don’t like wind swept fire, as a result of lightening strikes on dry flora.)
One of my children was very afraid of storms, the thunder especially. I doubt she’d ever been outside her orphanage until I adopted her. I don’t know what kind of storms they had there, if many, but her sense of hearing was acute, so she noticed all the sounds that we know to filter out, because she had never heard them before. Once in a while, even today, she’ll say, what is that sound, or look startled, and I’ll say, that’s the refrigerator, for example.
We would sit on either our front porch or our back porch, where I would rock her and we would watch the rain. I’d make a game of it so she knew I liked the storm and that it would hurt us.
Today, there was a line of black clouds lying low. At mid point there were some fluffs of white. Peaking at 12 o’clock was a tiny sliver of blue. It’s never rained, so far, but it sprinkled.
One time I saw a striking line of clouds, like a V pointed to the earth, but not a tornado.
If you’ve ever been around tornadoes (thanks to Michigan I have) you know there is a peculiar color to the clouds when one is near. One time I was struck by it here, and I said, there’s a tornado close by. Sure enough, there was. But I’m glad we don’t have as many as we had in Michigan. There we had a basement; here, we do not.
And one time I saw a fist above the road. It kind of went along with the news that day, which was interesting. I wasn’t looking for it, but you couldn’t miss it.
I can’t say I appreciate the darker clouds of life, when used in a metaphorical sense, but I do appreciate them in the sky.
I first saw this at a friend’s blog. It is a song detailing the deep desire to have a child. It is very touching. Kelly took time off from singing to pursue having a child. She now has a son.
I think of this song as a kind of prayer. I knew the feeling. I too had five miscarriages after our daughter.
There are many ways to have a child. I birthed two of mine, and I went to China for two. While I was miscarrying, a friend adopted two children domestically. She was way ahead of where I was during those difficult times. And someone else I know had triplets through infertility treatment.
If you are waiting, hoping, praying, crying, laughing, begging, wondering, puzzled for a child, hang in…and you will find your path.
Basic DEMO storyline with pics and video Brian Joo & Mika Nakshima “Whatever it takes” By Kelly Coffey made by LisaLao enjoy!
Mika Nakashima Description:
Born in Kagoshima Prefecture, on the island of Kyūshū, Japan, Mika Nakashima was the youngest of three children. She dreamed of pursuing a singing career from a young age. She decided not to attend high school or college in order to pursue a music career.
She was chosen from among 3000 girls to be the heroine of the 2001 fall Fuji TV drama, Kizudarake no Love Song (Tainted Love Song). In November, she made her debut with Sony Music Associated Records, with the song “Stars”, which was also the theme song of the drama. Her second single “Crescent Moon”, an 80’s themed song, was limited to 100,000 copies. It sold out the first day of its release. In March of 2002 she released her third single “One Survive” and her first video collection, “Film Lotus”. This was followed in May by her 4th single “Helpless Rain”, and in August, by her 5th single “Will”, which went on to rack up sales of over 140,000. Both were top ten hits and sold over or near the key 100k mark, proving Nakashima’s rising star appeal.
It is divided into 52 topics “simple strategies for transforming your life.”
One reviewer wrote that he reads with a pen, and he ran out of ink on this one.
While I got mine at the library (it is the first of her books that I’ve read), it is one that I want to own. There’s too much in it of value, at least in the first half, written with humor and insight.
I tend to be a person of deep settled calm. If I fall apart, it is usually not seen by others, and usually after the moments of need. It doesn’t feel like me when I am not at peace. I need to find my balance again, through prayer, time alone, time with friends, doing something to settle myself down. I know myself well enough to know when I need it.
Not too long ago, I had a need that only a friend could touch. It was one of those moments when serendipitously the universe aligned so that one of my friends called in the exact moment of greatest need. And another friend called the next day to invite me to breakfast the following day, which we enjoyed. I felt those were direct answers to prayer. Perhaps I wouldn’t have recognized it, if it weren’t for the first instance where the timing could not be missed.
I never want to be so busy that I miss the timing. At the same time, the adage is, if you want something done, ask a busy person.
I am always occupied, even if only in my thoughts, but I don’t like to be busy. We can be so busy running around smartly that we miss those moments that are around us.
I’ve been thinking I need to take advantage of watching sunsets more often. It is a free gift every day, but how often do I take the time to remember, much less see one, unless, yes, I am running around (driving) at the time.
I liked this quote in the book:
I realized how anxious life had become. It was time to remember joy. So I quit my job and created a new life. p 95
There’s always time and a perfect moment to create a new life, to make life new every day.
How do you do it? or is it not something that you think about? Sometimes I think the latter is an easier way to live, but it isn’t me.
You can’t control the length of your life, but you can control its width and depth. You can’t control the contour of your face, but you can control its expression. You can’t control the weather, but you can control the atmosphere of your mind. Why worry about things you can’t control when you can keep yourself busy controlling the things that depend on you?
Unknown
So, how do you control the width and depth of your life, the expression on your face, the atmosphere of your mind?
It ain’t easy being green.
Maybe thought by thought by thought. And then you’re still green, but maybe a better shade, ya think?
When I was little, my mother used to tell me to smile more often, as I looked so serious. That’s not to say I didn’t have a lot of fun and laughed a lot, because I did. I played through a lot of my childhood.
I didn’t take the message of smiling to heart then, but I do now. It may change more than the contours of our faces. We become more like what we look. At any rate, I like my face better when I smile. It didn’t make so much difference in my 20s, but it does now.
This touched me when I read it, and I thought it might touch you too.
Karin
I will never know what it is to be an adoptee (and I say that fully aware of the diversity of experience of adoptees).
But I don’t think it is possible to know what it is to be a parent unless you are one either (or until you are one). Parenting is an incomprehensible responsiblity within a sea of gray. Sometimes we are rowing our boat in the sea of gray while fog obscures our vision. We try to listen and smell our way but then realize we’ve dropped the oar. Without question, tho, I wouldn’t trade my seat on this rowboat (which some days seems to even leak a bit!) for anything in the world. (Other days I think parenting is juggling on a unicycle when you don’t know how to do either of those things.)
Elizabeth Stone wrote “Making the decision to have a child - it’s momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body.” I can’t tell you how deeply this now resonates with me…but didn’t at all before I became a parent.
I am so grateful for this journey…even the moments when I wonder what the heck it is we’re doing right….
peace
marlowe, mama to 4 in michigan, with permission from IAT
by Joan Borysenko, Ph.D.
