Please Don't Pet My Daughter...

Okay, silly title...but it makes total sense to me (and I'm betting to a number of other adoptive parents as well).

This morning Rodas and I were picking out some peaches at the grocery store when a woman walks up to Rodas--without even glancing my way or saying anything--and starts combing her hands through Rodas' hair. She then grabs Rodas' chin and tries to get her to look at her. She's not really aggressive, but she's very direct and her manner was as though she was looking for something on Rodas (lice? Trying to see if Mom was taking care of her hair? I don't know...). I was very taken aback. Rodas was as well, as she immediately stiffened up and withdrew (as if to say, go ahead and touch me but I'm taking my soul out of it). She's done this before and I know she likes to be the one to initiate physical touch (as it should be) ESPECIALLY from strangers. I know I wouldn't enjoy some complete stranger walking up to me and running their hands through my hair and looking me over like a doll they might buy.

I firmly tried to give the woman the hint to remove her hands from my daughter by saying "Excuse me, my daughter's not used to complete strangers coming up and petting her." I said it with a smile to lighten it, but obviously it was too light because the woman tried to get Rodas to look at her once again then she just smiled at us and walked off!

I got down on Rodas' level and asked her if that had made her uncomfortable...she nodded. I told her that it made me uncomfortable as well. I explained that I was sure the woman did it because Rodas was so beautiful that she couldn't help herself. I said that she is so adorable sometimes people don't believe that she is a real girl and have to touch her to see if she is real.

I didn't know what else to say, except that I would not let anyone do that to her again. She nodded and said she wanted me to do that.

Driving home, I felt frustrated and mad at myself for letting it happen. I had known the likelihood of this happening as it is mentioned in transracial adoption books and other parents of transracial adoptees have mentioned it. For some reason, a white woman with a black child somehow invites the hands-on investigation like Rodas experienced today. Most of the time it is innocent and, as I described it to Rodas, I think that people just feel inexorably drawn to such cuteness. Maybe it happens to all cute little girls and boys--I do know it didn't happen to my adorable two sons when they were little. I do know that it often happens to both girl and boy transracial adoptees. Often it is just invasive or uber-personal questioning, but we seem to attract people that just want to "pet" our daughters!

Some parents use the opportunity to be a good "adoption representative" and try to educate and enlighten. This was what I prepared myself to do before the girls came home--being a white Mom to two gorgeous chocolate children is pretty much a blatant advertisement for transracial adoption. It invites comment and question and I want to respond with respect and openness. But this morning, and the other times that something similar has happened to the girls, it didn't feel like innocent questioning. No words happened, but I felt as though Rodas and I had been through the Inquisition. People never just walked up to Wyatt or Noah and pawed all over them.

I can't help questioning if people do this because it is obvious that I am not Rodas or Tsegereda's biological mother and thus, in their minds, I am not the "real" authority over them. With me being sidelined in their mind, the child is open to investigation, whether it is to make sure that she is being properly taken care of or simply because she is so cute. I'm not her REAL Mom, so go ahead, kiss her cheek, rub her arms, pet or pick through her hair, try to pick her up (all these actions have been done by complete strangers to one or both of my daughters at stores). Maybe it's similar to the draw people feel when they see a pregnant belly--some women cannot resist the temptation to touch another woman's soft roundness--as though the fact that the belly thrust out there is an entity separate from the rest of the woman's body and thus is "o.k" to touch even if they've never met the woman before. Perhaps my daughters' color separates them in some people's minds from a maternal association to me? I hate to generalize so...but even if that's not what they generally think it IS what it feels like.

So what do I wish I had said to that woman in the store today and others that have groped my daughters in the past?

I am their MOTHER. They are MY DAUGHTERS. Black, white, it makes no difference.
Please TAKE YOUR HANDS OFF THEM! I would love to talk with you or answer questions about adoption, or hear suggestions about hair care or tales about your children...but please, don't touch my children in such a personal way. It discounts me and it makes my children feel physically accosted. How would you like it if I did the same to you or your kids?????

School Daze

Okay, it came and went...with barely a ripple and nary a tear or tantrum! What came, you say??? THE FIRST TWO WEEKS OF SCHOOL!

I accompanied Wyatt and Rosalie (as she is known at school and in the community) to school on the first day, and though she put on a brave face, she did stop at the doorway to her Second Grade Classroom. Her eyes were big and her feet didn't want to move, but with a gentle pull and a wink from Mom, she followed Wyatt in. I stayed and helped in class the first two days, at her request, but was told that my supportive services were no longer needed by Wednesday ("Mommy, no come to school tomorrow"). The words were wonderful to hear. There is a great ESL Aide which comes in to help Rosalie and another young man in the mornings, and her teacher is simply WONDERFUL, so I know that my services truly are not needed. In the two weeks since she has attended school, there have been no withdrawals or shut-downs and she has been excited to go every day. I have been pleasantly surprised at just how well she is doing (although I am still expecting some shut-downs once the class moves to harder concepts and more reading--I still claim to be a realist not an "ol' sour puss" as my hubby and mother like to call me...but sour puss or not I LOVE being wrong in this case). She even has begun to raise her hand in class to ask or answer a question, and she nearly made me cry when she read two full sentences by herself during class reading time. She is not so excited to do more schoolwork when she gets home, but she enjoys working on reading.

The separation between the girls was not as traumatic as I thought it might be, and I credit that mostly to my wonderful Mother. She has come to help out for these two weeks and has simply been indispensable. She adores the girls and Rodas has her wrapped around her teeny pinky (and Nana admits it, too!). The first week of school, Noah was home with her as well and the two played wonderfully together--it was a good bonding time for the two of them. When Noah started school this week (which, by the way, I was only allowed to accompany Dad, who was the chosen one to take Noah to school...), Rodas had Nana's undivided attention and she reveled in it. I am so in trouble on Monday when Rodas expects the same devoted fan club and instead finds that she has to share Mom with the laundry, cleaning the house, and getting meals ready. But, for now, she barely notices when sister has left...and if she takes a peek at the picture of the two of them secreted away in her Tinkerbell backpack, it does not seem to cause sadness but instead just a reminder that she will be home soon.

I know Tsegereda misses Rodas, as one of the first things she did in class was draw a picture of her and Rodas, but she has made a few girl friends at school and I believe that has helped so much in her transition away from her sister.


I did receive a number of questions from the kids that know Wyatt and I about whether she is his sister and how can I be her Mom, so I did go in this week--with Wyatt and Rosalie's consent--to speak to the class about adoption, our family and Ethiopia. I read a great book about different families (Families are Different, by Todd Parr) and spoke about our adoption of the girls. I showed them a Tigrinya-English children's book and they were awed when they saw the Tigrinya alphabet. There were some wonderful questions, and I caught the kids when, at the end of the discussion, I asked "So, is Wyatt Rosalie's real brother?" The kids shook their heads "no." I expected this, but had hoped to hear some yes'. I nodded and said "Yes, he is. Sooo, am I Rosalie's real mother?" Once again, most shook their heads. I nodded and said "Yes, I am." I explained that even though I did not bring her or her sister into this world, I am the one that will kiss their hurts, I am the one that will sit with them all night when they are sick or scared, I am the one that will be sobbing at their wedding, I will be their Mom forever.

I think they understood it then.

Families are not forged out of blood, but out of love.