Where are you from?

Happy National Adoption Month:  To promote awareness for children in foster care in the United States. It began  as National Adoption Week in 1976 by Governor Michael Dukakis and it was declared by President Reagan in 1984. Then it was expanded to a whole month by President Clinton. 

The Adoption Series will feature those in the adoption triad: The Birth Family, Adoptee, Adoptive Family. There may be differing opinions among those in the adoption community and that is ok. It is important to respect other's opinions and sometimes one can learn from someone's different opinions. 

This week in The Adoption Series: The Adoptee. The following post was written by an Adoptee. 

Please Remember that this post doesn't represent the opinions or experiences of all adoptees. This post only represents this adoptee's thoughts and opinions.

     “Where are you from?” This has always been a loaded question for me, as an adoptee. People always assume that I have Chinese parents, and was born in China. If I do not know them well, I don’t like to divulge such personal information that I am in fact adopted. I don’t want them to think they can invalidate my identity once they hear that I was torn from my roots. When I was at a small liberal arts college, everyone thought I was an international student, as 99% of the Chinese students came from Shanghai. I went along with this storyline, expanding to include an imaginary dad who owned a computer business. I knew I was playing into stereotypes, but I took solace in the make believe. In addition, I usually look towards dealing with racial assumptions through humor rather than be on the defense. “Where are you from?” An ‘innocent’ accusation revealing you are stuck in between, neither fully American, nor fully Chinese.

     Will you ever be enough? After college, I finally realized I didn’t need anyone to validate my identity. Despite coming to America at the young age of 3, I consider myself to be Chinese first, American second. Many people have questioned the validity in this identity, but it is how I claim myself to be. Where am I from? I am from China, and that is all you (a stranger) are privy to know. Do not push me further, or I may lead you down an endless path leading to nowhere. It is fine to be curious, but be aware that words as well as actions can have consequences whether it be for better or for worse. To ask me where I am from puts me on the defense. I feel like I do not truly fit in, because my appearance or behavior is constantly in question. I have enough inner turmoil that I do not need to take upon the stress that your question produces. It is enough to be adopted, and to be in a constant state of figuring things out. 

     So next time, think before you ask. Maybe find a better way to ask about someone’s background than to ask them where they are from, or where they are really from. Where are you from?

Please follow A Word with Liu Miao on Instagram at awordwithlm to receive updates about new posts on the blog and to see a glimpse of my life.

Gotcha?

Happy National Adoption Month:  To promote awareness for children in foster care in the United States. It began  as National Adoption Week in 1976 by Governor Michael Dukakis and it was declared by President Reagan in 1984. Then it was expanded to a whole month by President Clinton. 

The Adoption Series will feature those in the adoption triad: The Birth Family, Adoptee, Adoptive Family. There may be differing opinions among those in the adoption community and that is ok. It is important to respect other's opinions and sometimes one can learn from someone's different opinions.

This week in The Adoption Series: The Adoptive Family.

 Lanaya and her husband have the privilege of parenting two beautiful girls who joined their family through international adoption. Adoption makes their family a whole lot more beautiful, and brings unique challenges to the table. This has driven her in her pursuit of adoption education, particularly from adoptee and birthparent voices, which she seeks to elevate in the adoption community. She believes passionately in the value of every human life and the incredible grace of God. She loves to read and learn, especially on the topic of adoption. She and her family live in Alberta, Canada. Connect with Lanaya on Instagram lanaya graham, and through her blog found at lanayagraham

Please Remember that this post doesn't represent the opinions or experiences of all Adoptive Families. This post only represents the thoughts and experiences of Lanaya and her family.

Have you ever been in a situation that just made you feel icky? Have you ever felt like you were just an object to be used for someone else’s entertainment or gain? Maybe you were a kid on the playground that somehow knew you were the butt of a joke but didn’t get it. Maybe you were walking down the street and had a stranger cat call then snicker with a buddy. Maybe you took a stand for an injustice and had someone laugh in your face. 

I bet at one time or another we’ve all felt this way. Maybe we’ve even been the one to make the jab. It just feels gross to be objectified like that. It feels awkward and leaves us unsure of our footing. Maybe we are mad, maybe we are sad. Undoubtedly we are hurt.

Remembering how we felt when we were objectified is the best way to gain empathy when we are listening to the stories of adoptees who feel objectified within their adoption stores. We need to try and imagine how they feel when they speak, even if haven’t had the same experience or feelings about a similar experience. One way in which I have tried really hard to honouradoptees’ feelings is by changing the language I use when I talk about my children and about adoption in general.

From intentionally listening to adoptees, I have heard over and over that the phrase “gotcha day” makes many of them feel objectified, less than and commoditized. Like they were something to be purchased or owned. I stop and think about the connotation of that word, it makes perfect sense! When we play tag and call out “gotcha!” as we tag someone, we are claiming a victory. We become the winner, and someone else the looser. When we use “gotcha” at the end of a prank, we are lording our prowess over the person who is now the butt of the joke. We gain the upper hand, while someone else is left feeling powerless and resentful. I might use this phrase if I snag the last jug of milk at the grocery store, when I catch a pest in my home, or when I find a long lost t-shirt behind my freezer. 

I know there are adoptees who are not offended by this phrase just like there are people of every minority who still use older terms to refer to themselves. However, I believe this is a simple, easy change that I can make- even if not all adoptees are offended by it. In my mind, even if only a few people are offended by this phrase, it is worth it to me to find another. 

My husband and I have a few very special days in our hearts as the parents of children who joined our family via adoption, rather than biology. Right now we choose to call these days “family days” and try to do something special for and with the child who we are celebrating. But I say this cautiously because we hold these traditions VERY loosely. I know my children have complex feelings about adoption. All their thoughts and emotions are valid as they change, shift and grow. If there comes a point when my child feels that their “family day” is more of a funeral than a birthday party, we shall mark the day as they see fit. Or not mark it at all. Or call it something different. Or do something else to acknowledge their grief. These days mark a lot of change. And it’s not all win-win. There is way too much loss to make it simple, or to deny adoptees the right to choose how they wish to remember the significant days on the calendar. 

If you are reading this and struggle with the change, or feel frustrated with keeping up with PC language. Here are a few questions: If your child likes this phrase, might it be because they’ve never been given an option to think of this day differently? If you use this phrase, is your tradition more important than adoptees who have been hurt by this language? Is there an area of your life where you have felt frustrated by someone refusing to acknowledge your pain because they have never experienced it?

As parents by adoption, let’s press into adoptee driven education. Let’s not be quick to dismiss their experiences. When they share their thoughts, they risk great criticism and rejection, so let’s not let their vulnerability be in vain.

Whats In My Spoonie Survival Kit

I am happy to welcome another blogger to the #SpoonieSeries , Juliette. I love having other fellow Spoonies to contribute to this series because we can learn and be encouraged by other Spoonie's Stories.  Juliette Sebock is the founder of lifestyle blog, For the Sake of Good Taste. She is a poet and writer as well as a full-time blogger and influencer. In addition to the blog, she has created content for Her Campus and The Mighty and has poems and other creative pieces in a variety of outlets.  She is the author of a poetry chapbook, Mistakes Were Made. You can find Juliette at For the Sake of Good Taste or on social media.

I live with an assortment of chronic illnesses, both physical and psychological. Some are diagnosed, while others remain a mystery as of now.  Diagnosed or not, though, I've had to learn how to manage my various conditions;  I've talked about this a bit on The Mighty and my own blog (like in this post, featuring tips for managing chronic pain).  One of the most beneficial things I've done in the process of figuring this out is create a "flare kit," which I affectionately refer to as my "spoonie survival kit."  With these items close at hand,  the worst of my flare days become just a little bit easier.

   

For me, personally, I don't always have these in a literal kit.  I have some items in multiples, scattered throughout my apartment and my purses, and I keep others in a central location so it's always on hand.

Not all of these items will apply to everyone, but they've made a huge difference for me!

Muscle Rub

I especially like Absorbine Jr.'s products, so I usually keep something of theirs or a generic muscle rub in a few different places throughout my apartment and in various purses and bags.

Pills

This is one that will especially vary, but, for me, it usually includes a few different types of ibuprofen (Advil's original, migraine, and PM being the most common), something for menstrual pain relief, allergy pills, motion sickness medication, lavender capsules, and Pepto Bismol.

Heating pad

A heated blanket or hot water bottle will work to! I have a "normal" heating pad, a microwaveable sock filled with beans and essential oils, an electric blanket. and a hot water bottle, myself because heat seems to especially help me.  

Ice pack

Of course, I keep this one in the freezer, rather than in various spots around the house!  Sometimes I need ice, not heat for a symptom and an ice pack is the perfect way to get it.

Rubber jar grip

For me, one of the worst things when a flare hits is that my hands don't work very well. This sort of rubbery grip is perfect for opening my pill containers, water bottle, or whatever won't open.

Braces/bandages

I have a variety of braces, for almost every body part at this point!  If I don't have an appropriate brace, an ACE bandage is the perfect substitute.

Ear plugs/headphones

Especially when I was living at school, noise has always been a particularly unavoidable trigger.  Ear plugs are great if I'm able to rest in bed, or I'll put in headphones and play some calming music or videos if I'm out and about.

Pillow

This is another one that will vary.  I previously had a pregnancy pillow that was the best thing for my chronic joint pain.  Lately, I've been using a standard body pillow to "cuddle" with my the joint pain, a small pillow under my hips while lying down, and a sciatica pillow while sitting for a while.  

Animal

For me, my emotional support cat, Fitz, is a huge help.  In the future, I plan to have a service dog (my friend Lauren of Lauren's Journey has a great post on distinguishing between ESAs and psychiatric service animals).  Not able to have a pet? A stuffed animal won't have exactly the same effect, but it can be a great comfort nevertheless!

Eye mask

Light is another major trigger of mine, and my bed is extremely close to a window.  For that reason, an eye mask is helpful!

Sunglasses

Similarly to the eye mask, sunglasses are a huge help when I'm out and about.  I might get some strange looks when I'm wearing sunglasses at night ("so I can, so I can. . . ."), but it's worth it.  

Water bottle

I'm a huge proponent of staying hydrated, and this is especially true when a flare hits.  I try to avoid using excessive plastic, so I'll keep a reusable bottle on me. 

If you struggle with drinking enough water, check out my post on ways to stay hydrated!

Fuzzy socks

Even on good days, my feet get outrageously cold.  A pair of fuzzy socks are a must-have. 

Games or puzzles

A mindless phone game or distracting puzzle can be a great way to think about anything but a flare.  I use the app "Virtual Hope Box," which features a Sudoku game and other puzzles, which inspired me to try this sort of thing more often.  I keep these sorts of apps on hand, plus puzzle books featuring more Sudoku, crosswords, and more!

Tea

I'm a fan of tea at any point, but it's especially beneficial during flares. Yogi tea is particularly helpful--I like their stress relief, joint comfort, and woman's raspberry leaf varieties, myself.

Journal

My bullet journal is a sort of lifeline any day, but it's especially helpful during a flare.  "Brain fog" is very real, so a to do list is absolutely crucial if I can't avoid being somewhat productive.

Want to start a "bujo" of our own?  Check out our posts on bullet journalling on For the Sake of Good Taste!

Mobility aid

While I don't use it often, my cane, "Viktor" is a saving grace when my joints or dizziness are particularly bothersome.  

Compression products

My hands are some of my most frequent issues, so compression gloves are one of my go-to items.  I'm looking into trying some compression socks, too!

Tablet or cell phone

I've found that my full-fledged computer screen is a bit much when I'm not feeling well, so I turn to my tablet or cell phone to stay connected.  Sometimes it's still too much, but when I can manage it, it's a nice alternative, especially with a "warm" or sleep setting on the screen. 

A snack

Some crisps, crackers, basic cookies, or a protein bar are a good alternative when I can't eat "normal" food.  I like some mashed potatoes or pudding if I need even less effort in terms of chewing. 

Please follow A Word with Liu Miao on Instagram at awordwithlm to receive updates about new posts on the blog and to see a glimpse of my life.

A word from Rachel

Happy National Adoption Month:  To promote awareness for children in foster care in the United States. It began  as National Adoption Week in 1976 by Governor Michael Dukakis and it was declared by President Reagan in 1984. Then it was expanded to a whole month by President Clinton. 

The Adoption Series will feature those in the adoption triad: The Birth Family, Adoptee, Adoptive Family. There may be differing opinions among those in the adoption community and that is ok. It is important to respect other's opinions and sometimes one can learn from someone's different opinions. 

This week in The Adoption Series: The Adoptee.

My name is Rachel Nas, and I was adopted from Changsha, Hunan, China when I was nine months old. I have lived in central Virginia all of my life, and I am currently a sophomore at Liberty University, pursuing a degree in Biochemistry and Molecular Biology.  

Please Remember that this post doesn't represent the opinions or experiences of all adoptees. This post only represents Rachel's experiences and opinions. 

So, it's National Adoption Month. This is one of my favorite times of year, because it opens the floor for all of those in the adoption triad (adoptees, adoptive families, and first families) to share their stories and their opinions. As most of us know, adoption isn't easy. There are so many components to adoption: love and loss, grief and joy, anger and peace. I have come to realize that such is life. There is no easy answer. There will always be hard, unanswered questions and grief so deep that it sometimes feels as if you're drowning. 

There are many things about my adoption story that fill me with unspeakable, unnameable emotion. When I was abandoned on that street corner so many years ago, I lost the chance to know my birth family. I lost a true connection to a beautiful culture and language. I don't know my actual birth date. I don't know what time I was born or how much I weighed. I truly don't know if my birth parents loved me. 

However, I am so thankful for the life and opportunities I have been given. I was placed into a loving home with two doting parents who have sacrificed so much for me. I have access to clean water, all the food I could ever dream of eating, a home to come back to, and the ability to pursue my dreams. 

So the only thing I ask is that you listen. Everyone has opinions, and each person is entitled to them. However, I ask that you listen to what we as adoptees have to say. These are our stories, and these are real things that have happened in our lives. You might not be able to understand, but I ask that you listen. I ask you to at least try to look at things from our perspective. All that we have gained from our adoption will never fill the holes in our lives and stories that adoption has caused us. These stories of ours have so much beauty mixed with pain and grief, and that's what makes them so important. May we never lose sight of that.

Please follow A Word with Liu Miao on Instagram at awordwithlm to receive updates about new posts on the blog and to see a glimpse of my life.

An Unusual Adoption

Happy National Adoption Month:  To promote awareness for children in foster care in the United States. It began  as National Adoption Week in 1976 by Governor Michael Dukakis and it was declared by President Reagan in 1984. Then it was expanded to a whole month by President Clinton.

The Adoption Series will feature those in the adoption triad: The Birth Family, Adoptee, Adoptive Family. There may be differing opinions among those in the adoption community and that is ok. It is important to respect other's opinions/experiences and sometimes one can learn from someone's different opinions/experiences

This week in The Adoption Series: The Adoptee.  Juliette Sebock is the founder of lifestyle blog, For the Sake of Good Taste. She is a poet and writer as well as a full-time blogger and influencer. In addition to the blog, she has created content for Her Campus and The Mighty and has poems and other creative pieces in a variety of outlets.  She is the author of a poetry chapbook, Mistakes Were Made. You can find Juliette at For the Sake of Good Taste or on social media. Please Remember that this doesn't represent all adoptee's experiences or opinions. This post only represents Juliette's experiences and opinions.

Within a few years of my coming into the world, my biological father decided he didn't want to be a part of my life.  I won't lie--this almost cliche story has bothered me over the years, but I've been lucky, nevertheless. For years, my mom was the best, Gilmore Girls-esque single mom a girl could ask for.  To this day, I'm remarkably close to both her and her extended family and I'm truly grateful for the time we spent together, just her and I. 

Around the time I entered kindergarten, she had met someone, a man named Chris.  She'd had a few boyfriends before, but I can't say I remember any of them now.  Chris was different--Chris stayed around.  They got married a few years later, my younger sister was born, and things changed forever.

As their relationship got more serious, the topic of him adopting me--officially--came up time and again.  He had grown up in a large Czech-Italian family and understood how important family is, in all its forms.

However, there was something else that had an impact on this decision.  In the midst of all of this, my biological grandparents had decided that, despite their son's negligence, they deserved to have a place in my life.  In their eyes, that meant buying that place--first through a lawyer who could finagle a warped custody agreement that forced me to visit them, then with a string of gifts that they believed would win them a place in my heart.  

At the same time, they spent these years trying to turn me against what I consider to be my "real" family.  Not-so-subtle remarks against my homelife and outrageous restrictions amounted almost a decade of emotional abuse.  Thanks to the legal situation, it took until I was thirteen to feel that I could confront them and insist upon cutting off these visits--for all intents and purposes, I hadn't had a valid opinion as a younger child.  

They continued to harass me for years after (and still to this day), but there was one thing that I still couldn't escape from--my birth name.  My mom had had a particularly difficult birth and almost died in the process of having me; so they and their son named me after other family members, with his surname.  

Between his own absenteeism and their years of abuse, this name haunted me through high school and into college.  From the elementary school gym teacher who called everyone by their last name to first-day roll calls, I was struck time and again by memories and relived the trauma.  

So, this was a huge factor in my adoption story: I needed to escape this too, for my own mental health.  But, as time went on, other financial matters took precedence. After all, no one doubted that I was part of the family, despite the name I had to go by.  Where it mattered, I was already "adopted." The cost of making it legally official was an awful lot to our family.  My grandfather---Dad's dad, Chris' dad---wanted to make it happen, but passed away before he could do so.

When I turned 18, it became even less crucial, in a rational sense, to legalise my adoption.  Once I was no longer a minor, it had little bearing in a legal sense. But I still found myself trying to escape the past and the name that forced me to relive it time and again.  

So, I took matters into my own hands as a junior in college.  After months of research, I found out how to legally take Dad's last name and went to court to change my name officially.  It still cost more than I liked spending, but it was worth it to be an "official" Sebock--legally. 

I changed my first name to Juliette (which is similar enough to the former name to continue using my nickname, Jules), too.  To those that don't know this entire story, it's perplexing--people still call me by the wrong name without knowing better, and some even think I only use it as a pen name, since my first book came out not long after the name change was legitimised.  But, to me, this was an equally important part.  When I moved to the UK and entered my new programme, everyone there knew me as Juliette, or Jules. It was the new start I'd needed throughout my entire life.

I kept my middle name, but not because of any affinity for the people that had given it to me. Rather, I'd used it as my "confirmation" name when my mom and I converted to Catholicism to join our family (Dad's family's, originally) church. My grandfather and aunt served as our sponsors and it was one of the earliest times that I knew I was a real member of the family. For me, this memory surpassed any other references.

I'm happy to report that dad teared up when I told him--I kept it a secret until his birthday, no less!  

Dad and I don't have a perfect relationship by any means, but I'm so grateful nevertheless. He never had to be perfect because he did something more important:  he was actually there. 

As you've probably noticed, I never did get officially adopted, at least not in a traditional sense. But I don't doubt that this "unofficial" adoption was just as real to me as a child, and became even more so when I was finally able to share my family's name.  Our family's never been traditional, so, in a way, it fits even more.  Please follow A Word with Liu Miao on Instagram at awordwithlm to receive updates about new posts on the blog and to see a glimpse of my life.