Invasion of Privacy

It was bound to happen at some point in time. I guess we were lulled into a false sense of security because most people in our circle know the story about how we are a transracial family. But, with Chica Marie being a cheerleading with girls from other elementary schools in the district, we are an anomaly. After practice one night, while I was doing her hair after her bath, Chica Marie explained to me she was upset because another little girl interrogated her about having a white mommy. Chica Marie at first just said, “Yes, that’s my mommy but I came from my other mommy’s tummy.” She didn’t want to share anything more but the other little girl kept trying to pry information out of her until eventually Chica Marie caved to peer pressure. What upset her the most was how the other little girl turned right around and shared this information with the rest of the team, making Chica Marie feel out-of-place and singled out. And it broke my heart.

 

Often times, at school and at daycare, Chica Marie seems flippant about being adopted. I think, for the most part, everyone around her just kind of gets it because they were around for the finalization in April. The adults understand what occurred and can act as buffers for Chica Marie if some of the kids get too nosey. But, with new experiences and new people, her story is not known as it is with people already in the know. This makes her a curiosity. And no kid wants to stand out in a weird way, or be scrutinized because something about them is different. It is othering and uncomfortable. Not to mention her story comes with a lot of heartache and loss, not something she wants to just chit-chat about. So, I gently told Chica Marie she did not owe anyone her story, it was hers and she had the right to tell it or not tell it as she wants and when she wants. She responded, “But the girl kept asking me!” It distressed her that the other cheerleader wouldn’t just take the simple response and let it go. So, I developed a plan with Chica Marie, if that were to happen again, and I was there she would just need to come up to me and say our code word “Grilled cheese” and I would take care of it. If I wasn’t there, I instructed Chica Marie to go to a trusted adult and say, “This girl keeps asking me personal questions and I don’t want to answer them. Could you please ask her to stop?” Chica Marie felt this was a do-able plan. But, the hurt from the night was still fresh and raw. I asked her if she would like me to talk to the girl and her parents and she nodded. So, I will try to speak to them at the game on Saturday, in hopes that they will understand and be more sensitive going forward.

 

I don’t want Chica Marie to feel ashamed of her story or her adoption, but I also don’t want her to feel like she needs to tell everyone all about herself just because she is adopted. It isn’t easy to find that balance, but I am always open to talking to any of the children about it. Primero is very free with his story. Love Bug is really too young to know much about it, but he does sometimes declare, “I’m adopted. Right Mommy, I was adopted?” Chica Marie is somewhere in between her brothers. On the one hand she told a grocery store cashier about her impending adoption, but on the other she was upset about it being made into a big deal at cheerleading practice. The difference is probably in how the information was received. The insensitivity of the girl sharing very personal information like it was just gossip fodder was painful. Chica Marie did not ask to be adopted. It is something that happened to her and she had to endure the loss of her mother and original family to be meshed into another family. Adoption is not simple and should never be treated as such because it does such a disserve to all that happens in the process. Adoption is not a transaction, it is a loss. Yes, beauty can arise from those ashes, but only if all of the story is embraced, the happy and the sad.

 

Mostly, I hope Chica Marie is able to understand how to talk to pushy people because this girl may have been the first but she will not be the last person to demand to know intimate details of her life. I want the other family to understand we are just a regular family like any other. Yes, how we came to be a family might be different, but beyond that we are the same. And no one wants their greatest pain splashed before the world for criticism and critique. I also want Chica Marie to know I am always, always willing to go to bat for her; I am always willing to step in for her if she needs me. And she should never feel like she can’t talk to me about the painful parts of adoption. I might not understand it in the way she does, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try and it doesn’t mean I won’t be there to listen regardless. More than the boys do, I think Chica Marie is sensitive to how I might feel hearing she misses her mom or wishes she hadn’t been adopted or any of the other negative things about what has happened to her. I want her to know I can take it, I can listen with an open mind and heart and it won’t break me to hear it all. I hope someday she will trust me with it all. In the meantime, I have a date with a certain cheerleader.