You will find there are people who want to insert their political views into the adoption fray. Say things like, "I'm color blind," "what about reverse racism?" and generally take their personal and political views to shape how adoption, in their mind, should be presented.
I will not deny there is some politics in adoption and that there is some overlap, but there is a difference between evangelizing ideas using adoption and adoption blogs, and stating an opinion about a matter.
Let's take, for example, the "pro-choice" and "pro-life" debate. The "pro-life" says that adoption is the salvation to abortion, but then are against releasing forms about adoption and opening records. It's one thing to say adoption is a positive option to abortion and then turning around and being afraid of adoption itself. I thought the point was not to end human life, not to use some other complex issue to argue your point. Which is it? That adoption is an evil institution that needs to be kept (said to be evil by your sealing of records) or that choosing life for the [future] child is the right way to go?
It's also another thing for someone to say racism is wrong, and then someone to chime in, "What about reverse racism?" That's not the point. The point is that racism happens and it happens in different ways. There is a history to address and to say, "Well, I'm a Middle Class White Protestant... what about us?" really cuts through the major point. All racism is wrong, and if I point the majority picking on the minority, it is because this type of racism happens more frequently within the United States. Perhaps the person hasn't seen the racism I've gotten from Jews, who are my own people, or the racism that Koreans have towards me for being an adoptee. Nope, as it is easier to label me adoptee and angry for adoptive parents who are afraid of themselves, it's easier to label me as angry minority that doesn't care about racism beyond my own race. Which is exactly why it's easier to ignore the racism I listed against Chinese, Japanese, Catholics, Irish, Native Americans, Jews and so on.
I don't get it. Why do people want to use what is considered a taboo institution to linchpin their political issues and not honor what it means to be adopted? When they don't understand anything about adoption. Just like those white people at the behind of the abolitionist meetings heckling the speaker when they do not what it means to be racist? Why do you want to tread into territory that you don't know and try to make it a critical issue of your never ending campaigns? It makes no sense to me.
Do you even know what you are evangelizing when you use adoption in this way? Perhaps you really are just getting disgust from the adoption community and leaving them to argue against your evangelizing. So please educate yourself about where and what you post on before trying to force and cram your opinions down the throat of those who do not want it.
Friday, May 1, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
Stress Before the Trip
I thought when I said the word mediation, it would happen. When I said I wanted to delegate responsibility, I thought it would happen. I was so wrong.
My April is turning into a bit of a hell. I have to babysit my adolescent parents, cater to my Mom's insecurities (which I really want to give up, it just wears me out). Deal with an AWOL brother. And try to refresh all of my languages before I go. Trying to explain these things to adults that have never been truly responsible is like trying to explain to a baby how the physics of the universe work.
I have many things to smooth over and they aren't letting me delegate the tasks. They are being lazy and turning back towards me and when I ask them to do it, they take that inch and move it a mile. It frustrates me to no end. I ask them to get the dates set up to go to Asia, but then they won't come out this way to discuss the details of the trip. I had to argue for them to come this way.
My Mom is still talking about Korea negatively and Appa wants me to become fluent overnight. Then I have to sort out Eomma's stuff on my own because my brother is AWOL.
Where I want to have some semblance of sanity, I have none. Where I want to let go, I'm not able to. I see this as a huge car crash, and what's worse is I have so much things to do before I go and I'm helpless to get through all of them without some support. I'm quickly feeling like I'm put last above everyone else's desires. Perhaps I haven't asserted myself enough, but seriously I have limitations! And I'm reaching mine very quickly.
My April is turning into a bit of a hell. I have to babysit my adolescent parents, cater to my Mom's insecurities (which I really want to give up, it just wears me out). Deal with an AWOL brother. And try to refresh all of my languages before I go. Trying to explain these things to adults that have never been truly responsible is like trying to explain to a baby how the physics of the universe work.
I have many things to smooth over and they aren't letting me delegate the tasks. They are being lazy and turning back towards me and when I ask them to do it, they take that inch and move it a mile. It frustrates me to no end. I ask them to get the dates set up to go to Asia, but then they won't come out this way to discuss the details of the trip. I had to argue for them to come this way.
My Mom is still talking about Korea negatively and Appa wants me to become fluent overnight. Then I have to sort out Eomma's stuff on my own because my brother is AWOL.
Where I want to have some semblance of sanity, I have none. Where I want to let go, I'm not able to. I see this as a huge car crash, and what's worse is I have so much things to do before I go and I'm helpless to get through all of them without some support. I'm quickly feeling like I'm put last above everyone else's desires. Perhaps I haven't asserted myself enough, but seriously I have limitations! And I'm reaching mine very quickly.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Language Rejection
I find myself at times, even though I know French, Japanese and have been learning a bit of Mandarin (Taiwanese version) that my brain will entirely reject all Korean.
I know Korean, and fairly well, but occasionally I can't seem to speak it, think in it, and I get a backlash like I don't want to do it anymore. It's psychological, I think. I found myself doing this today too. I was forced to think in English grammar for most of the day, and when it came to remember Korean, I couldn't do it. I couldn't put myself in the mind set. Especially since others around me kept calling me "American" and rejecting part of the Korean that I established.
At the same time I find myself sometimes finding it really difficult to think in English. Sometimes I can't transition between Korean and English--in fact this is the hardest transition in languages I have. I can transition between French and English and English and Japanese (though it is a bit of a stretch), but English and Korean I have troubles with.
I only can think this is a psychological rejection of the baggage of what comes with the language. The hardest times I have transitioning seem to be when I want to melt into one or the other.
I know Korean, and fairly well, but occasionally I can't seem to speak it, think in it, and I get a backlash like I don't want to do it anymore. It's psychological, I think. I found myself doing this today too. I was forced to think in English grammar for most of the day, and when it came to remember Korean, I couldn't do it. I couldn't put myself in the mind set. Especially since others around me kept calling me "American" and rejecting part of the Korean that I established.
At the same time I find myself sometimes finding it really difficult to think in English. Sometimes I can't transition between Korean and English--in fact this is the hardest transition in languages I have. I can transition between French and English and English and Japanese (though it is a bit of a stretch), but English and Korean I have troubles with.
I only can think this is a psychological rejection of the baggage of what comes with the language. The hardest times I have transitioning seem to be when I want to melt into one or the other.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Heart Memories
The heart remembers what the mind forgets. I firmly believe that now and I didn't believe it before. I thought that emotions couldn't help you remember, but only could trigger memories.
Since as I'm writing this I'm in the middle of going to Korea. I've been remembering the love of my parents--all of them. I've been keeping Appa close to my heart. I've forgiven Eomma, because I can't do less. I've been thinking of the good and the bad, but how that in the end they still are family, no matter what language they speak.
And then I fell asleep. In a dream I heard a voice say, "Your birth parents are outside." It was some kind of reward, I felt. And I see them there. The background is blown out like it was increased by one hundred fifty percent in Photoshop. I see a dirt road--dirt roads fill my memories and dreams even though I know this is probably false. And both of them are standing there. Appa is in front of me to my right and Eomma is to my left. At the beginning they are dressed weirdly, boots and things, but at the end they aren't. I can see a white blouse on Eomma at the end. Appa says something like, "Thank you very much..." in words so clear I can hear it as if it were English. I say, "Thank you" in Korean this time. I hug him, I can feel his form. Eomma says "Thank you." which sounds like English and I say thank you formally back in Korean. I hug her and the dream ends.
What strikes me about this time over all other times I've dreamed of them is that I can clearly see both of their faces. I can see their expressions. Appa has updated in my dream to look like he now does in the photo he gave. He no longer has hair. Eomma looks the same somehow. She's still pretty.
Though I know it's not true, some part of me can't imagine that I am taller than Appa. There is some part that wants to be shorter than him and Eomma. That's why I am shorter than them in the dream. I know it's false, but this is why I believe it came from the heart, not my head.
Also all of the entourage that I know will be at the actual meeting of Appa weren't present. There was no translator, my mom wasn't present and my brother wasn't there. At the beginning of the dream I thought of them, but being a dream of the heart, and not my head, I don't think they were in that part of my heart.
Before I ended and before I woke up with that feeling of longing fulfilled, I had a small flash of me standing in between them looking up at them both. Perhaps it goes back to a time when we were happy, because I was short in the flash. I was holding both of their hands. My brother was also absent in this flash.
Where I couldn't get past the chalkboard because I was convincing my head to dream of them, it was my heart and my feelings that remembered.
I know it's weak, but I cling onto these dreams. But I firmly believe I could not wish for them to be outside the door like if I wished on a shooting star, on dandelion seeds blowing in the wind, or even if I found a magical lamp. I want to earn this right. This is something too important to merely wish for. I want to work hard for it and have a story to tell. Because while the heart can remember, wishes can still vanish like dreams.
Since as I'm writing this I'm in the middle of going to Korea. I've been remembering the love of my parents--all of them. I've been keeping Appa close to my heart. I've forgiven Eomma, because I can't do less. I've been thinking of the good and the bad, but how that in the end they still are family, no matter what language they speak.
And then I fell asleep. In a dream I heard a voice say, "Your birth parents are outside." It was some kind of reward, I felt. And I see them there. The background is blown out like it was increased by one hundred fifty percent in Photoshop. I see a dirt road--dirt roads fill my memories and dreams even though I know this is probably false. And both of them are standing there. Appa is in front of me to my right and Eomma is to my left. At the beginning they are dressed weirdly, boots and things, but at the end they aren't. I can see a white blouse on Eomma at the end. Appa says something like, "Thank you very much..." in words so clear I can hear it as if it were English. I say, "Thank you" in Korean this time. I hug him, I can feel his form. Eomma says "Thank you." which sounds like English and I say thank you formally back in Korean. I hug her and the dream ends.
What strikes me about this time over all other times I've dreamed of them is that I can clearly see both of their faces. I can see their expressions. Appa has updated in my dream to look like he now does in the photo he gave. He no longer has hair. Eomma looks the same somehow. She's still pretty.
Though I know it's not true, some part of me can't imagine that I am taller than Appa. There is some part that wants to be shorter than him and Eomma. That's why I am shorter than them in the dream. I know it's false, but this is why I believe it came from the heart, not my head.
Also all of the entourage that I know will be at the actual meeting of Appa weren't present. There was no translator, my mom wasn't present and my brother wasn't there. At the beginning of the dream I thought of them, but being a dream of the heart, and not my head, I don't think they were in that part of my heart.
Before I ended and before I woke up with that feeling of longing fulfilled, I had a small flash of me standing in between them looking up at them both. Perhaps it goes back to a time when we were happy, because I was short in the flash. I was holding both of their hands. My brother was also absent in this flash.
Where I couldn't get past the chalkboard because I was convincing my head to dream of them, it was my heart and my feelings that remembered.
I know it's weak, but I cling onto these dreams. But I firmly believe I could not wish for them to be outside the door like if I wished on a shooting star, on dandelion seeds blowing in the wind, or even if I found a magical lamp. I want to earn this right. This is something too important to merely wish for. I want to work hard for it and have a story to tell. Because while the heart can remember, wishes can still vanish like dreams.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
Stalker: Mark two?
There was a light tap on my door. I chose not to get up. And then I heard someone scream my name outside my door. I sat where I was. I muttered to myself, "Now, I'm definitely not answering the door."
In the morning, I saw the papers from the mail trash bin in my front yard. It made me wonder who the crazy bastard was. But there is only one male I know well enough for them to call me by name.
In the morning, I saw the papers from the mail trash bin in my front yard. It made me wonder who the crazy bastard was. But there is only one male I know well enough for them to call me by name.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
