Today I am cross-posting from my other blog, La Motif, about an issue that is extremely close to my heart. Excuse the cross-post but sometimes, some things are worth repeating. Here it is:
I’d like to share a letter. A letter that follows an incident that happened tonight when I arrived at my swim practice.
Three times a week, I swim with a Masters team that I love and have been with for eight years. Tonight, something happened that I can’t ignore. And so, a letter to my young friend. Here goes.
Dear Young One,
Hi there. We don’t actually know each other, but I’m one of the old folks who comes in to swim after you and your teammates. To be honest, right now I’m pretty upset with you and I need to tell you why. Well, actually, I need to say some things to you and you need to read them.
Here’s my feeling about you after tonight. It’s time for a little education. You are in college after all.
Tonight, I got to practice a little early. It was a long day for me, and I sorely needed the hard work and stress release of a good swim workout.
You were there, with your teammates, finishing up a long practice yourselves, and getting ready to exit the pool. Now, I’m accustomed to hearing you all tease one another, talk trash the way guys on a team sometimes do. My fellow swimmers and I have learned to ignore it, knowing that you’re young and still learning. (Okay, don’t mean to sound patronizing there but it’s true.)
But tonight, it was too much. There you were, at the end of the lane, when you started in on a fellow team member. You started with talking about his mother, making what you thought was a funny joke about how his “real” mother never wanted him anyway.
And I have to say, you went on and on. Laughing to yourself, and repeating that line about your teammate’s “real” mother. To paraphrase: “Yeah, I talked to your mother and she said your real mother never wanted you…blahblahblah.”
I was almost instantly angry, but before I could get there, you got out of the pool. And you were gone before I could talk to you.
That’s why I am writing to you today. Because you, my friend, have a lot to learn about adoption.
First, let me tell you about my family. My husband and I have a ten-year-old boy, a kid you might have seen a few days ago when he accompanied me to practice as he sometimes does. (And yes, thank goodness he wasn’t there to hear your funny joke tonight.)
My son loves Legos. He loves Nerf Guns, and doing origami. He loves the crazy dance parties we have in our kitchen, and he loves eating dumplings.
He loves traveling, and is the best traveler in the family. He loves our dog, and he also loves teasing our dog.
There’s one other thing you should know about our family. My son is adopted, and we are a family forever changed by adoption. And let me tell you some things I know about adoption, things I think you need to learn.
I am his REAL mother, and I wanted him desperately. Even now, when I don’t see him for a day, I crave him because of the strength of my love for him. I crave his smell, boy feet and all. I crave his morning hug. I crave the daily work of being his mother and watching him grow and change and learn. I crave helping him with homework, and sitting together at our family dinners. I crave him teaching me things, like the rules to the games he invents or the rules to Yu-Gi-Oh, which I still don’t understand.
I am not his birth mother, and my husband is not his birth father. But they too are people who are forever a part of our family and our life. And their decision to place our son for adoption was, in my mind, an incredible act of love and selflessness amidst circumstances I can only begin to imagine. Sometimes, I fight tears imagining what must have faced them as they made their decision, and I think too about whatever lack of support prevented my son from being parented by his birth parents. We will never know how his life might have been different had he remained with them, but I feel like the luckiest woman alive to have been given the gift of parenting this amazing boy.
My son has other parents who love him too. For three months, he was cared for by a foster family who are also a part of our family now. His foster parents fed, comforted, bathed, snuggled, and loved our son in the days before we were allowed to go to South Korea and bring him to our home.
A year and a half ago, we returned to South Korea to visit after nearly 8 years. And when we saw my son’s foster parents, nothing was different. They were ready to love, and feed, and snuggle him just the same, despite a physical absence of many years. Their love had not changed, and we love them all the more for it.
My son has a loving grandmother. Loving friends. A loving cousin and loving Aunt. And so many people who love him, I hope he doesn’t feel smothered by the extent of the love fest!
NOTHING about my son is unwanted.
When you make a joke like that, you diminish what we are as a family. You joke at our expense and you know what? It’s just not funny.
Here’s something else I know. Chances are, someone on your swim team is also adopted. Or different in some unidentifiable way that doesn’t need ridicule. And when you tease on the basis of something like adoption, you create a place that is unsafe for everyone.
Your joke tonight was, at best, inappropriate. At worst, it was hurtful and simply not okay.
So please, next time, a little thinking my young friend. Okay?
And I hope that you learn a little something from this.
Oh, and of course, if you have any questions about adoption, because there is WAY more to know than I have talked about here, just ask. I’m happy to talk.