Loving Where We Are

This time six years ago we were about six weeks into our adoption journey. We started this journey with me thinking that we were entering a community of cohesiveness–where all families embraced culture, talked about race, and learned the languages of their children’s birth. Naive, wasn’t I? At six weeks in, I was beginning to realize that the adoption community didn’t all think like I did, but I didn’t yet realize what a misfit I would really be in this community.

For five years I fought trying to find a place in the adoption world. A place were we felt accepted, understood, encouraged, supported. I tried to convince other parents that they needed to be doing more when it came to culture, race, and language. I did this not only because it was truly what I believed but also because I wanted to be a part of the community. But it didn’t work and in the end our community has come from a very different place.

Many things have changed in the last year and some of those changes I would never have anticipated. The biggest change for me has been a change in attitude. Over the course of the last year, I’ve become less involved in online adoption communities and no longer lament my lack of acceptance. But it is only recently that I’ve realized just how much my attitude has changed. I truly no longer care what others think. I don’t feel the need to spend time trying to convince people about adoption-related parenting. I’m still happy to encourage and help those who are interested but I’d rather spend my time doing for my family and friends instead of trying to make headway into a community where I obviously don’t fit. I attribute this change in attitude to five things.

1. My age. I’m now over 40 and feel that the journey I’ve been on since I became a mother has really allowed me to accept who I am and what I believe and value. With maturity comes wisdom, and I feel that’s what I’ve experienced in the last year. I’m completely comfortable with how we’re parenting and feel that we truly are doing what’s best for J.

2. Experience. As our son gets older, we are beginning to see more what he needs and wants when it comes to his birth culture and in the last year, he’s wanted more. I guess it’s kind of a chicken-egg situation: which came first? I don’t know whether he wants more exposure because it’s who he is inside or because of the experiences we’ve given him. I suspect it’s probably a little of both. But whatever the reason, our parenting style seems to working for J. He loves his Koreaness and is comfortable talking about adoption with us. He’s already processing things and seems to be working through them so he’s in a good place.

3. Friends. In the last year, we’ve developed a close friendship with one adoptive family. They too embrace the culture and are learning the language as a family. I’ve discovered that one close friend who understands and values the same things we do is more important for me than the general acceptance of the larger community. (Of course, through online communities we’ve made a few friends across the country who are like us and I’m very thankful for Facebook and e-mail so we can be a part of each others’ lives.)

4. Community. In the last year, we’ve found our community. It wasn’t the local adoption community but instead is the local Korean American community. The more people in the community learn about us and our feelings about J’s birth culture, the more we’ve found acceptance. We’ve made true friendships, and being a part of this community has made a huge difference in how J sees himself. He’s one of the top students in his Korean school class, which surprised his teacher since he has caucasian parents. They’ve seen that our commitment is deep and true; we want to be a part of this community not just have the community be a resource for us.

5. Validation. Everyone needs some validation; it’s just part of the human experience. But what I’ve discovered in the last year is that validation from people I respect means more than acceptance from those I was trying to convince. In the last nine months of so, we’ve made a couple of connections with families in Korea. Our lifestyle–embracing the Korean culture and language–played a big part in our hosting a Korean exchange student. The student’s family felt that the connection to Korean culture would be important during a year abroad and resulted in the student being placed with our family. Then my short stint returning to the work force also resulted in getting to another Korean family. As we talked this coworker was surprised at our knowledge and love for the culture but that surprise led to a respect for what we are doing. We didn’t decide to live this life or parent this way to gain the respect and validation of others; we did it because we feel it was best for J. But it has been nice to have our decision respected by those in J’s birth country.

That fact is I’m really loving where we are as a family in our adoption journey. Some parts have been a long time coming. But we plugged along even when we felt alone, laying the foundation on which to build. Now we’re building on that foundation. I’m so thankful we didn’t give up. The next year promises more changes, likely including a move. My prayer is that even in a new place we’ll be able to continue building on that foundation adding friends and community as we go.

Nature vs. Nuture

I’m a curious sort of person. It’s just part of who I am. And lately I’ve been wondering a lot about nature versus nurture. Our son, as most of you know already, is very into his Koreanness right now. K-pop music, wearing his Korean shirts, using the language he knows, taking taekwondo, eating the food. And, of course, my husband and I have no problem with this. We’ve nurtured that Korean pride in him.

But I do wonder, what if we hadn’t nurtured it? Would our son at some point feel that a part of him was or had been suppressed?

He’s always recognized those who look like him. As a baby his eyes would follow Asians, and when he started talking he decided everyone of Asian descent was from Korea like him. We didn’t have to introduce the fact that he looked Asian; we just gave it context and explained about other Asian countries and some of the characteristics Asian people share.

So I tend to believe that even if we hadn’t introduced Korean things to him, he would have felt something was missing especially as he got older and was able to explore the culture on his own.

I hear so many adoptive families say their kids (of similar age) have no interest in Korean things and I wonder why mine does. Is it simply that he’s been exposed to it in positive ways that include our whole family? And that maybe these other kids if similarly exposed would have developed a similar interest? Or is it just part of who he is, and God in his infinite wisdom knew this child would need to be with a family that would allow and encourage and help him embrace that part of him?

I don’t know. And I guess I never well. We’ve chosen to embrace the culture and learn the language. We didn’t have to, but that’s how we thought best to parent this child. And I still believe in my heart that it is best. Even when others criticize me for it.

The Adoptive Parenting Puzzle

During my five years in the adoption community, there are a couple of things that I’ve heard over and over. One is “If my child shows an interest in (culture/language/birth family/etc.), we’ll certainly help him/her explore that.” Second is “There’s no right or wrong way to parent; not every kid needs the same things.” I believe I’ve posted my arguments against both of these statements before so no need to go into too much depth on those again. But the recent experiences we’ve had with our son have gotten me thinking about these statements again.

I’ve started to see parenting our son like putting together a jigsaw puzzle. When our son came home, we began putting together the edge pieces of the puzzle starting with the corners: language, culture/customs, food, and adoption/race/birth family. We knew a few words and phrases in Korean and used them with our son from the day he came home, plus we listened to CDs and watched Korean kids’ shows. We celebrated our first Korean holiday together when our son had been home three weeks and observed certain customs and had Korean food as part of our celebration. And talking about J’s birth family started in the first days home too. As we’ve learned more Korean, tried new recipes, and explored the culture, we’ve added more edge pieces to our puzzle.

I feel like now the edge of the puzzle is pretty much in place; the foundation is there and now it’s time to build on it. At 5-and-a-half years old, J is helping us put more pieces of the puzzle into place. Based on the foundation provided by those edge pieces, he’s let us know that he needs more, which led us to taekwondo and Korean school.

Parenting an adopted child is an ongoing journey in experimentation, but I truly believe it all should start with those four corners of the puzzle: language, culture/customs, food, and birth family. Having the family participate in and embrace these “corners” is a way of embracing and accepting all of who the adoptee is. It acknowledges the child’s roots without separating the child from the rest of the family, provided that the whole family participates.

But not every child needs the same thing, some adoptive parents insist. That’s true, but that’s what makes these corners of the puzzle are even more important. Not every child will need the same thing, but I think every child needs to have exposure to these things so they can make informed decisions about what they do need. If you begin your puzzle with these corners (and whole family participation), you might find that what you’re doing is just right for your child. Or you might find that your child doesn’t even need as much as you’re doing. Or you might have a child like ours who has let us know that even with all we’ve been doing, it’s not enough for him. But no matter what message your child sends you, if you started early putting down these pieces of the puzzle, you’ll know that he is speaking with some knowledge about his needs.

I think a lot of parents don’t feel that their involvement in culture or language is very important. But I feel it’s vitally important, because I believe that parenting is 75 percent what you do and 25 percent what you say. There are so many facets to this for me. I believe that parents make things “normal” by talking about it and/or participating in it. In my life, leadership by example has always gotten the most results. I’ve never felt that I should ask more of my child than I ask of myself. If learning Korean is important for him, then it should be important for me too.

Sometimes I wonder where J would be if we’d parented him differently. If we’d waited for his to “be interested” in Korea, would he be where he is today–proud of his Koreanness and filled with love for his birth family? Would he be so open with us about his thoughts on adoption, his Korean family, or fitting in? We’ll never now the answers to that but I’m pretty happy with where he is right now so I guess I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Those four foundational corners of our parenting have brought our family together in wonderful ways. Now I’m looking forward to seeing how we, with J’s guidance, fill in the rest of the puzzle pieces to reveal the picture of who J was created to be.

Revisiting “And So It Begins…”

In April I wrote a post about our son wishing he’d never left Korea. He said it a couple of times and once put it this way, “If you wanted me to be happy all the time, you would have left me in Korea.” These comments are never easy to hear as an adoptive parent, even if you know where they are coming from. But over the last six weeks or so lots of things have changed and, as I’ve had more time to reflect more on his comments, I’ve come to some interesting conclusions.

First, those comments pushed us to make more contact with the local Korean American community, which is something we’ve known we needed to do but it’s hard and we hadn’t put in the effort we should have. So now J is taking taekwondo from a Korean American master and is getting to see other Korean Americans on a daily basis. J also attended the last four weeks of our local Korean American school’s spring semester as a trial to see if he’d like to attend full-time in the fall. We’ve had friends whose adopted children have had less-than-positive experiences at the school, but our son loved it and is excited to go full-time in the fall. The school is a mixture of full Korean American families, biracial families, and adoptive families. It’s great that J is getting to see the variety of Korean American families that are out there.

And since making these new connections, we haven’t had any more comments about wishing he’d never left Korea, although J’s continued to say he wants to visit Korea. The month before those comments had been a stressful one with the death of my father-in-law and an unplanned visit to Arkansas for the funeral. While the circumstances of that trip were stressful, I think being round the extended family also just emphasized to J how he’s different, which lead to comments that he needed to be where he “fit.”

Even if I “get” where the comments were coming from, I’m thankful that I believe now he’s feeling more like he belongs here–both in America and in our family. But I’ve also started to look at the comments he made from a different perspective. As I reflected on them one day, I realized that most transracially-adopted kids make similar comments at this age, only they often come from a little different perspective. Most, it seems, say things like, “I wish I looked like  you” or “I wish I had hair like you, Mom” or “I wish I’d grown in your tummy.” They aren’t saying they wished they’d never left their birth countries, but they are still commenting on the desire to fit in.

Our son’s comments about desiring to fit in just took a different direction. And I’ve decided I prefer his direction.  Not because I want him to think he doesn’t belong, but because I believe his take on it says that he’s comfortable being of Korean descent. He didn’t desire to look like my husband or I to fit in; no, he desired to go where he knew he’d look like everyone else as his solution to fitting in. And I think in some ways that has to be healthy. To me it says that he’s got a healthy self-esteem in being Korean, which if you read here much you know he’s really into.

Once he leaves the nest society at-large will see him first as Korean (Asian) American so we’ve always thought it’s important that he knows what that means and is comfortable with it. I’ve never wanted him to think he’s white or wish he were. And as I thought on it more, I think his comments said that thus far we’ve helped him build that foundation of positive self-esteem in his Koreaness, as much as they said that he felt he didn’t really fit in.

That’s not to say that we could just sit back and not address his feelings in some way. I think it said to us that we’ve done OK so far, but that now it’s time to take it to the next step. That we’ve laid a foundation but now we NEED others–those who are Korean American–to help us as Jcontinues to build his view of self.

Which is why I’m so, so thankful for the opportunities God has brought into our lives in the last few weeks at just the time we needed them. I know this job of parenting a transracial adoptee isn’t something my husband and I can do alone. And I’m so thankful to be making connections that will allow us, as a family, to become a part of our son’s ethnic community, and ultimately help him on his journey.

To Camp or Not to Camp?

So summer is almost upon us, and people are contemplating their summer plans.  For many adoptive families those plans include a trip to a heritage/culture or adoptee camp. Early on we thought we’d be one of those families who attended heritage camp each year. We have one that’s held every summer only a couple of hours from our house so it seemed like a no-brainer.

But the first year or two there wasn’t any programming for J. He would have been in daycare while we attended seminars so we decided to wait until he could actually participate in camp-related activities. Then financing became a problem and unemployment meant that camp wasn’t an option. Which brings us to this year, and ironically I have to say that the couple who was thrilled with the idea of heritage camp a few years ago will again not be attending heritage camp. Why this time, you ask? Well, after running the numbers it just doesn’t make financial sense to us.

Here’s a little background. This month J started taekwondo at a dojang with a Korean American instructor that is attended by several Korean American families, and we were given the opportunity to try out our local Korean American school for the remainder of the semester at no cost. So far J is loving both of these opportunities that put him in contact with other Korean Americans on a daily and weekly basis. If we continue Korean school in the fall when the new semester starts, we’d like the whole family to attend given that the school is willing to have an adult beginner’s language course. And, while taekwondo isn’t the cheapest sport out there, we love that it provides a the connection to Korean culture, allows J to learn Korean words, and we believe it’s making a huge difference for J to be around other Korean Americans on a regular basis. He’s figuring out that he’s not alone here as the sole Korean American in our community, which is how I think he felt prior to these opportunities coming along. Eventually my husband and I would like to start taekwondo too.

But both of these opportunities cost money, as does camp. So I priced everything out for our family. What I found was that this year camp would cost approximately $970 for our family of three, including the camp fees, lodging, and meals. (If we tent camped during camp, instead of staying at the lodge, it would be around $460, which is better but still… .) Those figures do not include gas to get to camp, any purchases made at the Korean market they have each year, or any other incidental expenses.

So those “four” days of culture camp (staying at the lodge) would cost the equivalent of eight months of taekwondo (at full price without discounts they offer) or one-and-a-half years of attending Korean school for our whole family. (Even if we tented camped the cost of culture camp would equal almost four months of taekwondo at the full price or one semester of Korean school for our whole family plus an additional semester for one family member.)

If money were no object–if, for instance, our family won the lottery–I’d say we do it all. But given that money is an object, I think we have to get the most bang for our buck. And that just doesn’t seem to be culture camp, at least not the one closest to us. “Four” days of camp is really more like one-and-a-half to two days of actual programming, when you factor in registration day and free time you’re allotted to do recreational things as a family. The camp is run by adoptive parents, which isn’t bad, but I’d personally like it better if the local Korean American community had a leadership role in the camp (local Korean Americans are invited as guests and participate, but to my knowledge don’t help plan the programming). A couple of great things about camp include the camp counselors, who are all adult adpotees, and meeting many other families just like ours. But the likelihood that those families live in our community isn’t great from the stats that I’ve heard, and we have a local program through which we can interact and get to know adult adoptees.

While I’m sure we’d all have a good time at camp, and I don’t dispute it has merit, it just seems like taekwondo and Korean school can provide more for our family right now. Five-day-a-week taekwondo classes and weekly classes at our local Korean school give us regular opportunities to meet and interact with Korean American families in our area, which is one thing we think is really missing for our family. In addition to learning a sport, language, and culture, we’re hoping to make lasting connections and friendships through these opportunities.

Only time will tell at this point. Maybe this time next year, I’ll be back on this blog touting what a wonderful and irreplaceable opportunity heritage camp is. But for now we’re going to stick with the local opportunities that have presented themselves and see where they lead. I’ll keep you updated.

Nature of Culture

Our adoption journey is now five years old. A drop in the bucket, I know, yet so many things have changed in those five years. In April 2006, we were beginning our home study, preparing for our parents-in-process classes, being fingerprinted, and gathering lots of paperwork, all while dreaming of the little guy who became our son on paper on March 30 of that year. When we started our process, we’d never heard the Korean language, much less spoke any; we’d never eaten Korean food; and we had no clue about Korean TV or music. In short, the things that fill our days now were not even on our radar’s then.

We were about three weeks into our process when we had our PIP class and began learning about the importance of embracing our son’s birth culture. And we took those lessons to heart; within a month we’d eaten Korean food and found someone to begin teaching us the language.

But looking back I have to admit that even then I didn’t completely comprehend what “culture” was. Like many parents, I think I fixated on culture from a historical context. Yes, food was important, as was etiquette and understanding common courtesies, but at that point I didn’t think at all in terms of pop culture.

In the last year, my thoughts on J learning Korean culture have shifted. It started with last year’s World Cup and Big Bang’s Shouts of Reds victory song. We already knew that the whole country of South Korea gets behind its World Cup teams because we’ve been soccer fans for several years. But as we watched the games and read stories from South Korea, we better understood that the World Cup experience (including the various victory songs and dances, the red shirts, bandanas, and scarfs) was part of the country’s national consciousness.

That message has been reiterated twice more since then. First at a Chuseok celebration we attended at a local Korean church last September. The teens did a dance that had been made popular by a Korean pop group, and almost everyone in the audience knew the dance. The second instance happened recently while we were at a culture day camp put on by a local Korean American Student Association. J was drawing pictures of Big Bang while we wanted for the other kids to arrive. And when the college students saw what he was doing they began playing Big Bang music on the computer and later one played part of a Big Bang song on the piano. Big Bang is big in South Korea right now and, like them or not, if you live there or are of Korean descent you probably know who they are.

Not really so different from living in the U.S. While I don’t listen to Lady Gaga, Justin Bieber, or Katy Perry (we’re listening to Big Bang), I know who they are. TV shows, movies, actors/actresses, music, and books are part of our national consciousness.

So now I feel that these pop culture experiences are of equal importance to the historical culture, etiquette, and common courtesies when it comes to teaching J about the South Korean culture. If J only learns about Korean drumming, wearing hanboks, and traditional games, there will be a hole in his understanding of Korean culture. Thanks to his Big Bang obsession, hopefully when he’s older he’ll be able to talk to others of Korean descent about the Korean music scene. (He’s saying he’s ready to branch out and listen to more than Big Bang, but no girl groups, please. Yuck! –Remember he’s 5.) And we’re already lining up Korean dramas that will be age-appropriate for him once he starts to read (or understand more of the Korean language).

I realize that not all adoption sending countries have a thriving pop culture, though I suspect most countries have some forms of pop culture. But South Korea does, and it’s easily accessible in the U.S. And now I think we’d be missing an important part of embracing the Korean culture if we ignored the pop culture aspect. Fortunately we love it. But love it or not, when we adopted J, I believe we adopted his heritage and his culture too.

Will knowing about music, movies, shows, and actors automatically allow J to fit in if/when he returns to Korea someday? Of course not, but it’s another piece of the puzzle that is parenting a transracial international adoptee.

And It Begins…

Two weeks ago J started a conversation with me that ended with him expressing his desire to have never left Korea. He expressed how if he lived in Korea he would look like everyone and no one would  make fun of him. When I noted that our family would still look different because Mom and Dad are white, he said he meant that he wished he’d never left his birth family.

The two weeks prior to that conversation had been really difficult ones for our family. My FIL had passed away unexpectedly and after a road trip to deal with the stuff surrounding that, we got home and all got sick. Thus, I’m not sure I’d handle the conversation as well as I should have or even would have under other circumstances. I don’t think I did a terrible job with the my answers, but grief and being bone-wary tired just didn’t leave me on my toes.

I’m not sure exactly what prompted the conversation, except to say that J’s been very worried lately about people making fun of him. Not every instance in which he thinks people are making fun of him is true (sometimes people are laughing with him, not at him), but I think there have probably been some instances when I wasn’t around that he hasn’t completely shared with me. He’s only 5, after all.

Then yesterday, the conversation repeated itself. This time I truly believe it was prompted by kids at a club we were attending treating him and the only other child of color in attendance differently (in this case throwing blocks at them). Again he said he wished he’d never had to leave his Korean family and that he could live in Korea.

When he says this, I say that I’m sad he had to lose his Korean family too, but I feel very blessed that he’s part of our family. And that’s true. I hate that he’s had to experience so much loss.

Of course, I know that the situation isn’t as simple as him staying in Korea and fitting in completely. In some ways he would’ve fit, but certain circumstances surrounding his situation might have made him a target for teasing or bullying. Someday he’ll understand that even living in Korea with his birth family wouldn’t have solved all his problems. But for now that’s beyond his comprehension.

In the meantime, I also believe that some of these feelings are coming from not having many Asians who are part of his everyday life. While our life in general is very diverse, that diversity thus far hasn’t included a lot of people who look like him. It’s not that we don’t think that is important; it’s that making connections into a segment of the community that you’re not naturally a part of is very difficult to do. Honestly, I believe transracially adopted kids seeing themselves reflected in the daily happenings of their family is the most important component a parent can provide.

And we’ve failed. Lots of circumstances have come together to lead to that failure (financial hardships and the inability to move somewhere with a higher Asian population, for example), but no excuses. So now we’re looking into tae kwon do for J and possibly attending the local Korean school. Then we’ll see where that leads. Hopefully such opportunities will help J with his journey and provide our family with connections that turn into true friendships within the Korean American community.

I Want to Look Like… Big Bang

So today I had an interesting conversation with J that gave me some insight into how he sees himself. Bear with me as I recount it; it will get around to racial identity eventually.

J: Mom, does God look like me?
Me: Well, God doesn’t really look like a person.
J: But someday we’ll see him, then he’ll be a person.
Me: Yes, someday we’ll see God but when we do won’t look like we do now. The Bible tells us we’ll have new bodies but not what they will look like.
J: Oh. Do you think there will be mirrors in heaven?
Me: I don’t know. Why?
J: Because I want to see if I look like T.O.P. when I’m in heaven. That’s what I hope I look like there.

How, you ask, does this have anything to do with racial identity? Well, because T.O.P. is a Korean singer/rapper who is part of J’s favorite Korean band, Big Bang.

As I’ve learned more about racial identity development, I’ve wondered how J will be affected with so few Asian’s in the U.S. entertainment industry, and those who are often limited by bad stereotypes. Yes, I realize that kids should have role models whom they know and interact with and not idolize entertainers. And hopefully, as J grows he will have those real, tangible role models. But the fact is, like it or not, we do look up to entertainers.  

If his favorite entertainers are white and, given that his family is also white, will he wish he were white too? I’ve always hoped he never wishes that. So when he said he wanted to look like T.O.P., I was proud.

I’m sure that some parents question our decision to let our 5-year-old son listen to Korean hip-hop music. We do closely monitor the lyrics of the songs he hears, but really we feel that he’s gaining so much from this interest. He’s seeing five Korean young men who are successful, talented, and seen as attractive. And he’s hearing Korean for at least an hour every day, and is learning new words and phrases while listening (why the monitoring of lyrics is important).

Plus, we feel that we’re just letting our son be who he is. Even as a baby in Korea, he loved Korean popular music. Big Bang isn’t something we pushed on him. We showed him one video during the World Cup, and he took it from there. He asked to see that video again and again, then asked if they sang anything else.

That was June. Now eight months later, J’s love of Big Bang is probably stronger than ever. And honestly, I couldn’t be happier.

Some of the Best Words Ever

Yesterday I opened my e-mail to find these words: “Dear _______ family, attached is a letter and photos from J’s birth family.” In my book those are some of the best words ever!

This is the second letter and set of photos we’ve received from the family, coming just a few days shy of the one-year anniversary of the first letter we received. This letter included more personal information, which was wonderful.

After almost a year, we’d begun to wonder if we’d receive another letter. But based on this letter, it seems the relationship is going to continue. Since J is young he doesn’t really understand the significance of this. But I know someday he will treasure the information and photos he’s receiving.

We didn’t start out thinking that we’d have a semi-open adoption. In the beginning it was really intimidating to think about. It was hard to talk about another family and another mother; it was awkward and not natural. But we began talking with J about his Korean family from the first week home. By the time he was old enough to be to really understand these conversations, they were totally natural to us.

Now that J’s beginning to process adoption and what it means, I’m so thankful we followed the approach we did. He’s completely comfortable telling me he misses his Korean mom and wondering aloud if someday he’ll live in Korea. And those statements don’t faze me or make me question his love for us. I roll with it and encourage him to tell us whatever he’s thinking.

We hope that someday in the next couple of years we’ll be able to meet J’s Korean family. We want these connections to be there because who knows what the future holds. Then as J grows he can decide what to do with the connections.

Therapy Is Good

After almost two years of struggling with moderate issues, last week we visited an attachment therapist. Of course doing all of the reading we do, we knew going in that J didn’t have major problems. But for the last two years, seemingly slight changes have caused disruptions for our son. Things like Santa Claus. 

We tried to do the Santa thing, thinking it would be fun. But this year, thinking someone could come in our house through the chimney proved to be more scary than fun. When things didn’t get better for J after Christmas, we told him the truth about Santa. And it did get better.

Then my husband, who’s been unemployed for eight months, started a new job. And the insecurities came back again.

So we felt we finally needed to talk with someone about it. And I’m so glad we did. Here are few things I learned in our first session.

* All adopted children have attachment issues to some degree. For some kids, attachment parenting in those first months (or years) home may be enough. Others have severe problems and are diagnosed with reactive attachment disorder. Many are like our son and struggle during times of change and independence.

* While our son’s issues aren’t critical now, left undealt with the therapist said they could set our son up for dependent relationships later in life. That means that he could be dependent on others  to define who he is–be it a girlfriend or a gang.

* What we’re striving for isn’t independence but autonomy. The person who is autonomous is self-sufficient and emotionally stable. This person understands that whether or not he is physically close to those he loves, he’s still connected to them through the love they share.

And he gave us some wonderfully simple techniques to help strength the connection we already have. These techniques (we’re calling them games with our son) are things like having our son listen to our heartbeats (since that’s where connection begins in the womb) and making eye contact. He also suggested things like playing board games and hide and seek and having J draw pictures about his fears.

One thing that amazes me is how so many of the things the therapist suggested were things that our son loves to do already. He loves to play board games and hide and seek. He spends at least an hour every day drawing pictures, sometimes of the things that scare him as well as the things he loves. It made me wonder if, in his interests, J was showing his craving for deeper connections.

In the last week I’ve seen improvements, especially on the days that we follow the therapist’s advice to the letter. Even though it was a little intimidating at first, I’m so glad we made the appointment. It showed me that even though I’ve educated myself about attachment and adoptions issues, there may be times when we need help. And it’s OK to ask for that help; our family will be better for it in the long run.