For Christmas, Cory gave me (us, really) two new books - Black Baby, White Hands: A View From the Crib by Jaiya John and I'm Chocolate, You're Vanilla: Raising Healthy Black and Biracial Children in a Race-Conscious World by Marguerite Wright. When we decided to adopt, we discussed race and decided we are open to adopting a child of any race - african-american, caucasian, asian, hispanic, native american, ???... When we made the decision, it was easy and I knew in my heart and my head that it is the right one for me and Cory. (This is not the right decision for everyone and that is okay.) But, there were some things that I needed and need to work through.
Our social worker gave us a statistic during our first homestudy appointment:
For each adoptable Caucasian infant
there are 63 waiting families.
For each adoptable Biracial infant
there are 3 waiting families.
For each adoptable African-American infant
there is less than 1 waiting family.
For each adoptable Biracial infant
there are 3 waiting families.
For each adoptable African-American infant
there is less than 1 waiting family.
Obviously, the need is obvious. So - if there is such a need, why was my heart still restless? I've come to several stop-and-process points.
1. My baby won't "look" like me. In my dreams, our child is white and she/he has soft silky hair, which I know how to care for. When we adopt, our child will most likely be biracial or black. His / her eyes will probably be a beautiful chocolate brown and his /her hair will be black and curly...
2. I'm white. I grew up in the Suburban Northeast. My classes in school and college consisted mostly of other white kids with VERY few exceptions. The only time I ever felt like a "minority" was when I was in Chili, South America and was 1 of a few people that spoke English and had blue eyes. (And then - guys whistled and girls stared - embarrassing, but not really difficult.)
3. Why is race such an issue for me anyway??? Does this mean I really am racist?
I know there are more, but for now I'm going to stop. I've come to several conclusions.
1. I'm okay with my child not looking like me. I think this is an infertility issue for me. By letting go of that - I let go of a lot of infertility baggage that weighed me down. I'm reading everything I can about how to care for african-american skin and hair and I know that I'll have help if I need it.
2. Still not sure how this one will work out - but I'm not afraid anymore. I could list all the things we'll do to "fix" this - (and there is a list) but well, I'm not worried. We'll figure it out and God will open our eyes and give us wisdom as we seek it. I know that might sound trite, but well, I just have peace. And for now - that's enough.
3. I'm not racist, but it is still an issue in our world. One that the Hunneyman family will continue to fight. Because - God does not view us by the color of our skin, but by the condition of our hearts.
This post might show my great naivete. (I don't say ignorance, because ignorance seems like a choice to me. I'm not choosing to be unlearned or unaware. But, rather doing everything I can to expose my head and heart to the issues that will arise in a transracial adoption.) Anyways - this post might show my naivete - but this blog is meant to share our journey. Hopefully, our journey will help those considering adoption. So, I want to share all my heart - not just the "pretty" side.
