Indigeny

Kate has been reading a book on indigenous cultures and so came up with the idea about blogging about what is "indigenous" to each of us.

What is first comes to mind in what is indigenous to me is Jersey, and not the Native-American past of the true indigenous New Jerseyans, but it is my birthplace, my homeland, and is so contrary to my personality and yet so rooted in who I am, that it is profound to me.

I was thinking about it a lot this week because I started a new job and the people there are so nice, it befuddles me. Although I'm mostly a "glass is half-full" type of person, I can't help but wonder if the other shoe is going to drop and that somehow this new job isn't nearly as wonderful as it seems to be.

I realized that part of my hesitation comes from growing up in New Jersey vs. Portland. For the most part, in New Jersey, you assume the worst in people and then allow yourself to be surprised if they turn out to be okay. It's a defense mechanism, you're always on guard, alert, ready to react. I was reminded of a time when as a young teenager, I was walking in my neighborhood. It was daytime, and I noticed a parked car had its lights on. Knowing the person would be bummed to come out to a dead battery, I rang the bell of the house that the car was parked in front of. A 20-something hispanic man in a sleeveless tee-shirt filled in the space behind the locked screen door, greeting me with a threatening, "What?"

     "Oh," I stammered. "I was looking for the owner of the car out front..."
     "What of it?" he said, jutting his chin toward me and stepping closer.
      "Well, the person left their lights on, so I just wanted to let them know..." I trailed off.

The guy turned toward the car and instantly he transformed - his shoulders dropped, his face softened, his eyes opened wide. "Oh, thanks!" he said, and went from this threatening presence to just a normal guy.

Only, the threatening presence is what is the normal first approach in Jersey. As the girl who goes up to strangers to tell them when they leave their lights on, this Jersey approach is obviously not my nature. Although that experience didn't dissuade me from trying to be nice to strangers, it's made me over-the-top appreciative when someone is nice to me.

So a couple years later when my Thunderbird ran out of gas and a guy came out of his house to help me out, I brought him an ice-cream cake the next day as a thank you. He raised his eyebrows and said it really wasn't necessary. I just smiled and silently disagreed. Just the week before, my boyfriend's car broke down and we went door to door to borrow a phone, and it took us almost an hour before we could find anyone willing to help us.

For me, my Jersey girl side is what is indigenous, where as who I am by my birthfamily, seems secondary. Even though that was always a part of me, I didn't realize what came from my birthfamilies until later so that side seems new.

to view my birthmother's blog on the same topic, go to: http://mothertone.wordpress.com/

Write Away

Kate and I decided to blog about the experience of writing away from each other. We typically agree on a time to blog and then agree on a rough subject and go from there.

There is something productive about writing together where we are both in the process of the book together. It's handy having a partner in a project. It allows for reassurance, confidence that you're on the right track. So when we're together, it's easy to feel inspired about the project.

When we're each working on our own, separately, it's different. The writing is one project competing with many projects (the kids, the house, the job, looking for another job, etc.) and then our story is one writing project competing with other writing projects (my essay class, my other blogs, my other projects that are brewing).

It kind of made me proud that we've been able to keep our focus on this project for so long through so much. Having children was a big distraction (albeit, a wonderful distraction, but still...). Being laid off from my job of eleven years was another. Life, in general, just gets in the way.

I do think it's an important story, one that I feel is worth the effort to get it out into the world. But, why? When we're writing separately, it easier to lose sight of why we are doing this.

So here are my reasons for why I am doing this:

• It's universal. There are elements that are universal to everyone - nature vs. nurture, coming of age, identity, coming to terms with loss - but that are story is able to crystallize because of the unique circumstance.
• It can help people. Not only people going through reunion, which is a small segment of the population, but with people who are questioning exploring a different layer of who they are. It may be a Pandora's Box, but, in the end, isn't knowing always better (or is it)?
• It's a good story. To me, that's as good as it gets. It's just a good story and that's enough validation for me there.

I will focus on these points when we're not together in writing, and hope it makes sense when it all comes together.

***

to view my birthmother's blog on the same topic, go to mothertone

***

Thoughts? Reflections? Opinions?

Please comment!

First Rejection

Getting the story out into the world...

Although I've written about different aspects of the book, I don't know how far I've gone into just where we are in the process. There's a bit of the story on our facebook page, about how we got a call to go on Dr. Phil, but he didn't want us because our story was too "happy" (what would he have to cure if we'd already worked it out for ourselves?). For years, we had intended to write our story, after Betty Jean Lifton told us that we should (which is another story), and this just gave us the kick in the ass to do it. We decided on an outline and have been writing together/separately (not reading each other's work), for the past eight years.

We knew it was a big risk, and a big leap in faith (at least Kate's a successful songwriter, aside from our letters to each other, Kate had little to gauge of my writing). We didn't know if our writing together/separately would work, but we knew we didn't want to read it ourselves until it was done. Otherwise, we might change what we had written after seeing what the other had done. We wanted to share each of our stories, packaged together, but from our own unique viewpoint.

Luckily, Kate had met Barbara, an amazing editor/writer at Fishtrap. Barbara agreed to be our sacred in-between, the only person reading both sides of the story while editing our writing and coaching us along the way. The three of us have spent the past couple years refining the book proposal alongside editing the book. A couple weeks ago, we were very fortunate to have a really great recommendation to a an important agent, who agreed to read the proposal, (rather than just taking a look at the query letter). It was huge.

When we sent the proposal off to the agent, it was the first time I realized that it was a step onto a road of rejections. Even if we were successful in getting picked up by an agent, we then faced rejection from publishers. If a publisher agreed to us, then we would have to deal with getting rejected from the buyers who would sell the book, and so on and on. I was looking towards a series of unending potential rejection, which made me question why we were working so hard to get the story out. Aside from taking time away from work and family and whatever else, now instead of getting together to catch up or just hang out with Kate, we're always working on the book.

The agent didn't take us on. We got our first rejection. We knew it was a long shot, but that didn't mean it didn't sting. I worried that maybe our book won't get out into the world after all.

It was actually in putting together the book proposal (rather than just writing the book), that I realized I really, truly, genuinely intended on getting our story out into the world, that we weren't just writing it for our own edification. It was in the process of writing the story, that I was able to realize how much we had to say  - the inherent importance of connection to your family, for better or worse; the search for self; incorporating all aspects of who you are (whether you like them or not); coming of age; identity and so on and on.

We have gone through the ups and downs and dramas of reunion, and we have come out the other side of it, transformed. Maybe the transformation is subtle on the outside (or maybe not), but inside it's nothing short of life-changing. And it's the life-changing stories with happy endings that are so inspirational to me. I want to share our story not only with other adoptees, birthparents and families dealing with those issues, but for the sake of the story. It's worth being told.

It's still a little amazing to me thinking that we've gone eight years and still haven't read each other's sides of the story. I am ready, and eager to read it. I really want to know what the experience was and is like for Kate. I know on my level, but writing it down, rather than telling someone directly, allows you to be much more honest and closer to the truth - no couching things that might hurt the other's feelings, not leaving out the not-so-flattering parts.

But I won't read her side. Not yet. I'll continue with facing rejection to try to get the story out into the world. And, if that doesn't work, we'll self-publish. But if we can get an agent who believes in our story, then it just will allow us a broader reach. Because I do believe it's a story worth being told.

***

to view my birthmother's blog on the same topic, go to mothertone

***

Thoughts? Reflections? Opinions?

Please comment!

Family Tree

Looking through facebook for other adoption/reunion pages that have shared values with our story, I came across this image on a page called, "Adoption Reunion Stories."

What was disconcerting is that this was the only thing on the Facebook page. No comments, no stories, nothing else. It made it feel somewhat ominous or creepy. But, I thought visually representing the birthparents as the roots, the adoptive family as the branches and the adoptee as the trunk was clever, so I shared it with Kate.

Kate said she didn't know why, but that she found it polarizing. It caused me to pause and analyze the image more.

Looking at the picture again, I could see instantly what could be seen as negative by the birthmother. In this image, the birth family is kept underground, hidden, secret. I realized, this is a visual representation of closed adoption.

Although I was in a closed-adoption (where I didn't know my birthfamily growing up), because I've known Kate since I was 18, there are ways our reunion feels like an open adoption just because I've know her for so long.

So it got me thinking, if this is the image of the family tree in closed adoption, what would a family tree in open adoption look like? This is what I came up with...

 

A mangrove tree has an exposed root-system. Is messy and complicated, but it is amazing and the life around it thrives because of it. One quote I liked about mangroves in Wikipedia stated that they slow down the tidal water enough so sediment comes in. "In this way, mangroves build their own environment." 

That's what I think of adoptees in reunion or open adoptions - you have to build your own environment, one that is unique and nourishing for you. Also, a young tree is amazingly adaptable. "If it does not root, it can alter its density and drift again in search of more favorable conditions." Although the adoptee may not be able to choose their family or where they come from, they can drift until they find a better situation. 

So, for me, I'm more of a Mangrove tree. Everything's exposed, but life can thrive that way.

***

to view my birthmother's blog on the same topic, go to mothertone

***

Thoughts? Reflections? Opinions?

Please comment!

Mother's Day 2012 and Our Blogs' First Anniversary

Grey kitty is actually my husband, Dane! He did the voice when he was five.



It's been one year since we started blogging. I feel like we're just getting into the swing of things. I do find it interesting, all the strange ways we navigate through this complicated relationship, the ways things are different than with my family and the things that are the same.

Mother's Day is the perfect example of the complications that come up. I am not good at holidays, I'm not planful, I do not get things out in the mail ahead of time. I think about it, I agonize over it, but I can't do it. Oh, I have great ideas about the kids making cards and gifts and then it all coming together. But it doesn't quite happen.

This year, I held out, hoping I would get something together in time. By this afternoon, I came to terms with the fact that it wasn't going to happen and I called and ordered flowers for my mom. Sure, they're the typical and the generic, but they get the job done and I think that's what my mom wants (sure, hand-made cards from the kids would be a nice compliment to the flowers too, but the flowers would have to be a part of it).

Once I ordered the flowers for my mom, I figured I should get flowers for Kate as well. Maybe not as fancy a bouquet, maybe a less expensive one. Then I realized I didn't have her updated address. Then once I got all the information I needed...I just couldn't do it. Even though my mom wouldn't know if I sent something to Kate, it still feels a little like a betrayal.

I know Mother's Day is a fabricated holiday that's more about selling cards than meaningful ritual, but we can't get away from it any more than we can Valentine's Day chocolates. You just have to suck up that you have to do something to recognize the day.

For my mother's day last year, I went on slug safari. The one thing I want every Mother's Day is to go for a hike with all my boys - husband and the two little guys. Last year, we hiked at Tyron Creek Park. It was damp and cool, and we were hoping to see wildlife and we did in spades - in slugs. They were everywhere. Big and small, slimey all. It became a game to be the first to spot one.

This year, I told Reed, my youngest, just to make sure to not get me cut flowers. Flowers I can plant are great, I just don't want a bouquet. It took a little explaining, but he got it and now it's his job to make sure Dane and Quinn know too.

I suppose the easy thing to do would be to ask Kate what she would like for Mother's Day from me. Are flowers the right thing, or a card, or something like slugs? Then, if she tells me, and it doesn't feel right, then what? Then I'm just ignoring what she wants. So that probably wouldn't work.

Then I try to turn it around. I try to think how I would feel if my sons were to give something to someone other than me on mother's day. At first, it felt wrong, like it would bother me. But, if they were adopted, I think I would be so grateful to the birthmother that I would want to celebrate her myself on mother's day. How to recognize both?

I don't know. So I'll get my mother's day flower in just in time for my mom and will flake on Kate, not knowing which is better.

***

to view my birthmother's blog on the same topic, go to mothertone

***

Thoughts? Reflections? Opinions?

Please comment!

Precious Things - Part 2

Email response to Kate's email

Eh, I tried to write about it last night and didn't get very far. What it made me think about was really more my stuff and not taking good care of things and feeling undeserving. The image that came to mind was going to mexico on the Tortoise and I found this beautiful, delicate shell and I explained to the local guy that I couldn't take it home, that I would certainly break it. Just before I left, it brought it to me as a gift, very carefully wrapped and contained. And I was moved, and grateful. Then brought it home and it just stayed like that - wrapped up and tucked away because it was too delicate. I thought that would be nice to write about - but what it doesn't really have anything to do with us/adoption/etc.

The cape is a quandry. I've looked for it as I've been in the attic going through other things and I haven't found it. I'm worried that it may have been gotten rid of during the remodel. I'm hoping that it was just displaced, but I'm worried. That said, I would be okay with you writing about it. I know it would be a huge loss if I did actually lose it.

I think a hard thing about the blog writing is that I usually don't know what I want to write about until I'm writing it. Even if we have a topic ahead of time, I'll often go off on a different tagent. I agree that having certain topics that we line up to pull from would be helpful, I just haven't been successful with it. Also, I think something inherent in our project, is that we're dealing with totally different things that both have the same starting point. So, we won't be dealing with the same things, exactly. So maybe it's just picking the starting point?

***

to view my birthmother's blog on the same topic, go to mothertone

***

Thoughts? Reflections? Opinions?

Please comment!

Precious Things - Part1

In response to Kate's email

******

Hi Kate,

Hope you landed in NYC safe and sound. Quinn just got the bear's tooth! Thank steve.

I have been meaning to respond to your request about the pens. I totally understand. I didn't realize they were the expensive kind, or I wouldn't have exposed them to the kids. But, they've been out on the kitchen table and it's now become a beautiful part of our routine. Quinn, Reed and I will sit down together in the morning to draw. It helps me to draw with them, makes me less self-conscious about drawing and we work through things together. It's put in my in a quandary - I want to respect your wishes, and at the same time I've made a very specific house rule that we share all things, and that as long as something is treated with respect, it's not off-limits (the only thing I can think of that is off-limits, is the Guild (guitar that Kate and Steve had given me as a Christmas gift when I was working at their music store), and I've had to put that away until they're able to treat it with respect). But, it made me wonder, am I too loose with things? Obviously, things are a mess at the house, things get broken, but on the other side of the coin, the boys are not hesitant to try things, nothing is off-limits (they were cooking at the stove from as soon as they could stand and follow the rules), and they get exposed to everything.

At first I thought, I'll just take my pens and put them away in a pencil bag and put it in my pannier to have with me to sketch on the bus and when I'm out. Because, when I'm home, I'm doing things with the boys and couldn't say, "you can't use these pens, but I can - you can use your pens." If they treat them with respect, we share. But, they are little and mistakes will be made.

My parents were very anti-materialistic. They focused on spending their money on experiences (fancy dinners, travel) rather than "things" and so, in a way, they taught me not to respect things. Not to disrespect them, but just not to put great importance on them. And I guess I've been teaching my kids the same thing.

But, then it made me realize that maybe I am too dismissive. I would like to do a better job of teaching them to take good care of things that are important. An extra challenge, since I don't know how to teach them something I do not know.

I was thinking we could do our blog on something around that, "Precious things" and have it be sprung from the request about the pens. I think it's perfect for the blog because it makes me think about the values my parents raised me on vs. what would have my values been had I been raised with you. It wouldn't be negative. I think it's actually really really sweet that you wanted me to have the pens - just for me - and that they would be precious. But I'm not used to - or good at - having precious things.

I love you. Hope you're having a great time!

***

to view my birthmother's blog on the same topic, go to mothertone

***

Thoughts? Reflections? Opinions?

Please comment!