Monday, May 18, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Kalimba!
I'm off to pick up my best friend from the airport. She's swooping back into town to host, along with some other fine females, a baby shower. For me! I can't believe it.
Here is Kalimba loving on Tulip.
Holy smokes Ava! You are going to be eaten by your Godmother if you don't watch yourself.
Here is Kalimba loving on Tulip.
Holy smokes Ava! You are going to be eaten by your Godmother if you don't watch yourself.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Wrestling: Get in the Ring
We've spent the last 48 hours here at our house thinking and talking and reading and writing about the major flap online brought about by EJ Graff's article on Slate.com.
The topic of Graff's argument—the tentacles of corruption—is urgent and powerful and rightfully provocative. I also think it's undercut at every turn by bad reporting and a dangerous amount of rumor-mongering. She was granted a very public, powerful pulpit. I wish she'd treated the subject with greater professionalism. Here is her piece:
http://www.slate.com/id/2217608/
(*I also wish people would stop assuming that Graff is a man in their comments on message boards. Women exist in the world of journalism too. Just saying!)
Dr. Jane Aronson, Founder and CEO of Worldwide Orphans, who's been in the IA trenches for over 20 years, weighed in on Graff's now widely circulated crie de coeur. She's pissed, and worried that this will deter prospective adoptive parents who may have given safe and loving homes to orphaned children who need and deserve safe and loving homes.
http://www.orphandoctor.com/2009.01.20.htmll
The NY Times asked various experts to weigh in on Madonna's attempts to adopt a second chid from Malawi, and speak more broadly on the subject of IA. Very persuasive and varied voices coming at the topic from all angles. Blissfully they try not to linger too long on Madonna herself.
http://roomfordebate.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/05/10/celebrity-adoptions-and-the-real-world/?scp=1&sq=international%20adoption&st=cse
My most favorite blogger Julie—photographer extraordinaire, exceptional friend of dogs, deep and powerful thinker, reader, and writer—had some thoughts on Graff's piece that she posted on antiracistparent.com. Her work there led one woman to question the credibility of her own adoption and led another to recount a troubling story that deserves investigation. Julie manages to hold a deep belief in the great possibility of an honorable international adoption in one hand while insisting on the need for transparency and accountability in the other. She's my hero.
http://theeyesofmyeyesareopened.blogspot.com/2009/05/today.html
After all this wrestling, a break was in order. So I sifted through the precious package of books a beloved friend sent me last week. And here is what the Pops read to me before I went to sleep last night:
Grace for President
The topic of Graff's argument—the tentacles of corruption—is urgent and powerful and rightfully provocative. I also think it's undercut at every turn by bad reporting and a dangerous amount of rumor-mongering. She was granted a very public, powerful pulpit. I wish she'd treated the subject with greater professionalism. Here is her piece:
http://www.slate.com/id/2217608/
(*I also wish people would stop assuming that Graff is a man in their comments on message boards. Women exist in the world of journalism too. Just saying!)
Dr. Jane Aronson, Founder and CEO of Worldwide Orphans, who's been in the IA trenches for over 20 years, weighed in on Graff's now widely circulated crie de coeur. She's pissed, and worried that this will deter prospective adoptive parents who may have given safe and loving homes to orphaned children who need and deserve safe and loving homes.
http://www.orphandoctor.com/2009.01.20.htmll
The NY Times asked various experts to weigh in on Madonna's attempts to adopt a second chid from Malawi, and speak more broadly on the subject of IA. Very persuasive and varied voices coming at the topic from all angles. Blissfully they try not to linger too long on Madonna herself.
http://roomfordebate.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/05/10/celebrity-adoptions-and-the-real-world/?scp=1&sq=international%20adoption&st=cse
My most favorite blogger Julie—photographer extraordinaire, exceptional friend of dogs, deep and powerful thinker, reader, and writer—had some thoughts on Graff's piece that she posted on antiracistparent.com. Her work there led one woman to question the credibility of her own adoption and led another to recount a troubling story that deserves investigation. Julie manages to hold a deep belief in the great possibility of an honorable international adoption in one hand while insisting on the need for transparency and accountability in the other. She's my hero.
http://theeyesofmyeyesareopened.blogspot.com/2009/05/today.html
After all this wrestling, a break was in order. So I sifted through the precious package of books a beloved friend sent me last week. And here is what the Pops read to me before I went to sleep last night:
Grace for President
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Papa Dog Woofs
—I’m anxious about raising a black child. I’ve been trying to immerse myself in the canon of information pertaining to transracial adoption. Trying really hard to educate myself about what Ava's needs might be and how we can best prepare and be race-conscious without being overconscious, and not "colorblind" either. I’m struck by the notion that even with the best of intentions and resources and gobs of love there will always be something I can’t truly understand. What is it like to grow up black in America?
Let me start by saying I believe my wife and I will make great parents. We are both deeply sensitive and caring people. And while I have to leave the room when the ASPCA commercials with the Sarah Mclachlan song come on and I may have teared up (fine broke out in a full sob) during a viewing of My Dog Skip, I also like to think I have quiet reserves of strength. I think that same piece of me that can’t bear to watch defenseless animals suffer or be lonely is the one that bolsters me in a crisis. It will enable me to give everything I have to this little girl, whom I don’t yet know, but who is nevertheless a being in need of nurturing and love. And who is going to be my daughter.
That being said, I bristle already at the notion that she’ll face discrimination in her life. That she may not always be afforded the same assumptions I was in school. That she may face marginalization by her peers or teachers or potential employers. I have started questioning whether I live in the right community. Is it diverse enough? Will she feel comfortable here? Who will be her role models of color?
Her foundation of loving herself and being proud of who she is will start with us. It won’t end there, but we’re determined to make sure she’s strong and humble and kind and generous and that she always feels LOVED. Then it’s up to us to put ourselves out there for her sake. To expand our own community and face whatever possible discomfort as we walk through the world as a family of color. Her life is going to teach us as much about who we are as we can hope to teach her. I feel incredibly fortunate.
Recently I was discussing parenting with a friend. He shared with me the notion, purportedly from a Japanese monk he admired, that it’s important to move away from the idea of ownership when it comes to children. Every person is a unique soul. Our role as parents is to nurture that soul, that being, until they leave our charge and then continue to be a source of strength for them when needed. I think this sounds wise. And I think allowing the room to think this way will prevent my ego from taking any hardship our daughter endures too personally while also allowing her triumphs to shine in their own grandeur. Her life won't have to be a reflection of me being the #1 Dad (ah, the musings of the never-been-a-parent). Even now as she sits in her crib in Ethiopia she’s started her own journey. We’ll try and be the best guides we can be from here on out.
I now return you to Mama Dog.—
Let me start by saying I believe my wife and I will make great parents. We are both deeply sensitive and caring people. And while I have to leave the room when the ASPCA commercials with the Sarah Mclachlan song come on and I may have teared up (fine broke out in a full sob) during a viewing of My Dog Skip, I also like to think I have quiet reserves of strength. I think that same piece of me that can’t bear to watch defenseless animals suffer or be lonely is the one that bolsters me in a crisis. It will enable me to give everything I have to this little girl, whom I don’t yet know, but who is nevertheless a being in need of nurturing and love. And who is going to be my daughter.
That being said, I bristle already at the notion that she’ll face discrimination in her life. That she may not always be afforded the same assumptions I was in school. That she may face marginalization by her peers or teachers or potential employers. I have started questioning whether I live in the right community. Is it diverse enough? Will she feel comfortable here? Who will be her role models of color?
Her foundation of loving herself and being proud of who she is will start with us. It won’t end there, but we’re determined to make sure she’s strong and humble and kind and generous and that she always feels LOVED. Then it’s up to us to put ourselves out there for her sake. To expand our own community and face whatever possible discomfort as we walk through the world as a family of color. Her life is going to teach us as much about who we are as we can hope to teach her. I feel incredibly fortunate.
Recently I was discussing parenting with a friend. He shared with me the notion, purportedly from a Japanese monk he admired, that it’s important to move away from the idea of ownership when it comes to children. Every person is a unique soul. Our role as parents is to nurture that soul, that being, until they leave our charge and then continue to be a source of strength for them when needed. I think this sounds wise. And I think allowing the room to think this way will prevent my ego from taking any hardship our daughter endures too personally while also allowing her triumphs to shine in their own grandeur. Her life won't have to be a reflection of me being the #1 Dad (ah, the musings of the never-been-a-parent). Even now as she sits in her crib in Ethiopia she’s started her own journey. We’ll try and be the best guides we can be from here on out.
I now return you to Mama Dog.—
Monday, April 20, 2009
Taking Cues from Tulip
Today I woke up feeling squirrelly. I'm starting to miss Ava. I was happy to get an update that said she was a happy, cute baby, but that only tells me so much. I'm wondering if that was a bug bite on her chin or if she needs an antibiotic cream. I bought a rather ugly toy that crickles and cracks and has a mirror for her to start making googly faces at herself. Wise women told me babies like that kind of thing.
I do have complete faith in her caregivers, but I'm ready to be the caregiver. This is a new hard.
Tulip seems to be handling the wait well. I need to learn to sit with similar grace and alertness as we wait for our court date.
I do have complete faith in her caregivers, but I'm ready to be the caregiver. This is a new hard.
Tulip seems to be handling the wait well. I need to learn to sit with similar grace and alertness as we wait for our court date.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrl
I was invited out on a girls' night this weekend. My neighbor—who I adore, and who never gets impatient with me asking her questions like "You said that 1-year-olds did or didn't wear shoes?" or "Do 1-year-olds give you a hand signal when they're thirsty?" or, pointing at a rocking horse, "Is this what people mean when they talk about pack-n-plays?"—set the evening up. She promised tapas, stiff drinks, and then dancing at a club with pretty, shiny, exceedingly well-groomed young men. Sold! Anyways, my neighbor invited along a friend I had never met to join the group. And I think I'm okay with that being our one interaction in this lifetime. See, she said that dreaded thing that sets my spine on fire. She said that she rarely goes out with women because all her friends are guys. She just doesn't really get along with women. Never has. They bug her. Gah!
What does that even mean? Why do I feel like I've heard this from too many women, and that they almost always sound like they're bragging a little? I can hang with the dudes, man, but broads? They get to talking about their feelings and somebody gets hurt or gets bitchy or gets catty and inevitably somebody winds up with a Lee press-on nail stabbed in their back. I feel like I've heard other people say recently how difficult girls are to raise, and how manipulative they can be, and how they fight so dirty with their friends, and blah blah blah. Boys are simple! They just push their trucks around and scrape their knees! (Excuse me while I pause and go add a truck and a box of band-aids to my baby registry for the Magnificent Miss Ava.) One friend, who I might add is raising up a terrifically dear baby boy, told me that sometimes she's grateful to have had a son. The only real worry she has about him as a teenager is drunk driving. Girls can just get into so much more trouble.
Back to girls' night: The conversation at the table moved on, to how men are just naturally born with a wandering eye, and at this point I probably started hallucinating and imagining a conversation that really was meant to be light and benign and it's a shame I have to take everything so seriously. (I'm such a girl!) I just really can't stand it when people talk about girls as if they are dopes who need to knock their knees together and protect their chastity at all costs. I hate it when guys make those easy jokes about how they're never going to let their daughters date until they're 30 or they're going to meet their daughter's first boyfriend at the door with a rifle. Do we really not trust that the 17-year-old girls who we've raised maybe have enough self-respect to make choices that protect and honor their well-being? Do we not trust the girls who we've raised to invite boys into their lives who treat them with the dignity and grace they deserve? And, while understanding that teenagers go bonkers with hormones, and cannot and should not always be expected to make the wisest decisions, shouldn't we be as demanding with our sons as we are our daughters when it comes to matters of friendship and sex. Shouldn't we have the same conversations with each? It can't just be that our sons need to be careful on prom night but our daughters need to be good, right?
People, I'm getting ready to raise a little girl [edit, per the wise and supremely wonderful Filoli: I'm getting ready to parent a little girl but raise a woman]. I don't know a thing about what I'm in for. But here are some things I believe. Or, at least, here are some things I professed at great volume, with calamari batter shooting out of my mouth, or muttered to myself like a crazy woman in the ladies' room, at girls' night.
1) If you as a female don't like women as a gender, it might simply be that you fear it's you who are unlikable.
2) If we as mothers raise our little girls to be princesses, and teach them to crave compliments about their appearances above all else, it shouldn't come as a surprise when these little girls grow into women who are frustrated or unkind when there's another beautiful woman in the room.
3) If we raise our sons to love and respect women, maybe we could then worry less about our daughters.
4) My best friend, and Ava's godmother, once told me that the greatest compliment she ever got paid in her life was when someone called her sisterly. Now this girl is a stunner, an actress no less, but the praise that she holds closest to her breast is that she is good to her fellow women. Lucky Mama Dog. Lucky Pup.
5) I am a total buzzkill and so let's all go dancing and I will buy everyone a round of lemon drop shots.
And off we went to Oilcan Harry's where I danced awkwardly to a techno version of Britney Spears' Womanizer. Gah!
What does that even mean? Why do I feel like I've heard this from too many women, and that they almost always sound like they're bragging a little? I can hang with the dudes, man, but broads? They get to talking about their feelings and somebody gets hurt or gets bitchy or gets catty and inevitably somebody winds up with a Lee press-on nail stabbed in their back. I feel like I've heard other people say recently how difficult girls are to raise, and how manipulative they can be, and how they fight so dirty with their friends, and blah blah blah. Boys are simple! They just push their trucks around and scrape their knees! (Excuse me while I pause and go add a truck and a box of band-aids to my baby registry for the Magnificent Miss Ava.) One friend, who I might add is raising up a terrifically dear baby boy, told me that sometimes she's grateful to have had a son. The only real worry she has about him as a teenager is drunk driving. Girls can just get into so much more trouble.
Back to girls' night: The conversation at the table moved on, to how men are just naturally born with a wandering eye, and at this point I probably started hallucinating and imagining a conversation that really was meant to be light and benign and it's a shame I have to take everything so seriously. (I'm such a girl!) I just really can't stand it when people talk about girls as if they are dopes who need to knock their knees together and protect their chastity at all costs. I hate it when guys make those easy jokes about how they're never going to let their daughters date until they're 30 or they're going to meet their daughter's first boyfriend at the door with a rifle. Do we really not trust that the 17-year-old girls who we've raised maybe have enough self-respect to make choices that protect and honor their well-being? Do we not trust the girls who we've raised to invite boys into their lives who treat them with the dignity and grace they deserve? And, while understanding that teenagers go bonkers with hormones, and cannot and should not always be expected to make the wisest decisions, shouldn't we be as demanding with our sons as we are our daughters when it comes to matters of friendship and sex. Shouldn't we have the same conversations with each? It can't just be that our sons need to be careful on prom night but our daughters need to be good, right?
People, I'm getting ready to raise a little girl [edit, per the wise and supremely wonderful Filoli: I'm getting ready to parent a little girl but raise a woman]. I don't know a thing about what I'm in for. But here are some things I believe. Or, at least, here are some things I professed at great volume, with calamari batter shooting out of my mouth, or muttered to myself like a crazy woman in the ladies' room, at girls' night.
1) If you as a female don't like women as a gender, it might simply be that you fear it's you who are unlikable.
2) If we as mothers raise our little girls to be princesses, and teach them to crave compliments about their appearances above all else, it shouldn't come as a surprise when these little girls grow into women who are frustrated or unkind when there's another beautiful woman in the room.
3) If we raise our sons to love and respect women, maybe we could then worry less about our daughters.
4) My best friend, and Ava's godmother, once told me that the greatest compliment she ever got paid in her life was when someone called her sisterly. Now this girl is a stunner, an actress no less, but the praise that she holds closest to her breast is that she is good to her fellow women. Lucky Mama Dog. Lucky Pup.
5) I am a total buzzkill and so let's all go dancing and I will buy everyone a round of lemon drop shots.
And off we went to Oilcan Harry's where I danced awkwardly to a techno version of Britney Spears' Womanizer. Gah!
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