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Continuing Culture
Posted in Kid, Identity, Uncategorized, tagged Adoption, Adoptive Children, African Cradle, Cultural Experiences, Culture, Ethiopia, Ethiopian culture, Heritage, Identity, International Adoption, Little Ethiopia on Oct 2, 2014| Leave a Annotate »
When Tom and I decided to prefer The Littlest E from Ethiopia, nosotros made a decision to do our best to bring Ethiopian culture into his life and our lives in as many ways as possible brusque of moving to Federal democratic republic of ethiopia. It'southward true that there is nothing like growing up in the state where you were built-in. International adoption is complex and there are many who believe it should be abolished and many who exercise not think that way. Nosotros chose international adoption because we knew at that place were children in the world that needed homes with parents who would love them, and there were certain aspects we were not comfy with in domestic adoption. We made a pledge to the Ethiopian government that we would take intendance of The Littlest E, and part of that is ensuring he knows his country's culture, heritage, history, food, music, etc.
We are fortunate to live in Los Angeles where there's Piffling Ethiopia, a office of LA devoted to Ethiopian restaurants, travel agencies, merkatos (in Ethiopia it's an open air marketplace, but in LA it'due south a market), vesture and music stores. Plus, there are thousands of ex-pat Ethiopians living here and there is a sizeable adoptive community. Over time, we have met a number of adoptive families with children The Littlest E's age and they have go friends. When our schedule permits, nosotros go to the Little Ethiopia Cultural and Resource Center on Saturdays and our son, along with his friends, attends Amharic, Ethiopian dance and art classes. These classes are all taught by Ethiopians and exist to give the children a greater understanding of their native state.
I think of information technology equally planting seeds, and so that our son will hopefully look at Ethiopia and the culture with interest, appreciation, and a hunger to know more. It's great to hear him speak elementary words in Amharic similar "Kai" which means reddish, and "and, hoolet, sost" which means 1, two, iii. It'south not just about learning language, trip the light fantastic and art; he's with his friends, his people.
We also attend Ethiopian celebrations when they happen. The Ethiopian calendar (Ge'ez Calendar) is different from the Western calendar and their New Year falls on September 11th. A couple of weeks agone, we went to a New Years celebration in Petty Ethiopia where we listened to music, visited booths, and saw lots of people. We happened upon a group of immature boys playing street soccer, and our able-bodied son joined in. He was inches shorter than whatever of the other boys, just he held is own and even got the ball twice. This provided another taste of Federal democratic republic of ethiopia and the soccer game was the high signal of the day for me (and I'm certain for him, also).
In August, we attended African Cradle, an Ethiopian heritage campsite for adoptive children. There must take been at least fifteen children all within a few years of The Littlest E, and within minutes after we arrived, he bounded down to the playground and immersed himself in playing with a handful of boys his age. I wrote about African Cradle a couple of years ago in an earlier blog. Again, it was an astonishing experience. During the day, our son would be with all the kids his age and do arts and crafts, play soccer, and go on nature hikes, while the parents attended seminars on racism in team sports, cultural identity to name a couple of topics. There were times when the older kids and younger kids got to play/swim together. We'd all gather together for meals and, in the evenings after dinner, we'd go the burn down pit and eat southward'mores, listen to Ethiopian music and watch the kids play and trip the light fantastic. There were a fair amount not-adoptive Ethiopians helping with the camp, as well. It was a sight to behold when we were all up on stage dancing, everyone together. It was like we were transported back to Ethiopia. It truly was a wonderful weekend and we all fabricated some new friends.
After attending African Cradle, our son wore his T-shirt he got in that location with pride. He'south proud of his Ethiopian heritage and Tom and I encourage that. He was born in Federal democratic republic of ethiopia and it'south role of his identity. As he grows up, it may become an even larger function of his life. Awhile back I was driving him to preschool and he started telling a story – he was 50 and came to visit one of his friends from preschool. I asked him where he was visiting from and he told me Ethiopia. It could exist a prediction; who knows? What I do know is Tom and I are going to proceed exposing our son to his Ethiopian culture, and when he's a bit older, nosotros'll become dorsum to Federal democratic republic of ethiopia and so he can run into it starting time hand. That will exist one of many trips.
I recently met a immature Ethiopian homo who has been in the U.South. for over a decade. Listening to him talk about his life and his own identity issues provided me with a possible window into my son'due south life, calculation adoption to that. Information technology made me realize that there are many immigrants who may have issues of identity and how they run into themselves in the world, non simply internationally adopted children. Information technology'll be interesting to see how our son identifies himself as he grows up. For at present, all Tom and I can exercise is exist skilful stewards and offer The Littlest Due east with as many cultural experiences every bit nosotros can, but at some indicate, it'll be his decision.
©2014 Melanie Elliott
Images: Unknown, Melanie Elliott
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Children's Book Review: Shades Of Black
Posted in Child, Identity, Uncategorized, tagged Adoptive, African American, Book, Children, Ethiopia, Families, Identification, Shades Of Black, Transracial on January 31, 2012| Leave a Annotate »
As a transracial, adoptive parent, there are many things my husband and I can share with our son, The Littlest E, unconditional dearest, nurturing, caring, etc. We tin can teach him compassion, empathy, how to be a good, loving person, and what nosotros know nearly life. We tin can share with him our hobbies and joys, and the usual everyday things parents share, teach and show their children. 1 affair we tin't share with him is our ethnic background. We are Caucasian and our son is African-American, and originally from Federal democratic republic of ethiopia.
Both my married man and I feel it is important to provide our son with as many opportunities every bit possible to develop a positive, potent sense of self. He is enrolled in a wonderful preschool where the staff and his classmates are racially diverse. We are role of an Ethiopian adoptive community where he can be around other families only like ours. We as well have a racially various mix of friends. Another style our son can find identification is through reading.
A terrific volume that my husband bought for our toddler and, coincidentally, a friend recommended isShades Of Black A Commemoration Of Our Children by Sandra L. Pinkney. I highly recommend it for adoptive families who will observe such a volume useful, for African-American families, and transracial families. Information technology'southward a board volume that is divided into three sections, one illustrates various skin tones, one emphasizes different types of hair, and one shows centre color, all feature photos of African-American children. Each department is beautifully descriptive with images of children with whom children reading the volume can relate. At the showtime of each section are the sentences, "I am Blackness. I am Unique."
As I read the book to The Littlest E for the start fourth dimension, he sat there, eyes transfixed while I turned each page. We read through the book a few times and he then started to repeat the phrases, "I am Back. I am Oonique." Watching him identify with the children on the pages and hearing those words gave me goose bumps. I know his identification may non be at a deep level, however he sees the children in the volume and he knows he looks like them.
We go through each department looking at pictures trying to figure out if he's more like the "smoothen brown in a chocolate bar" or "coppery brown in a pretzel." He knows his optics are "ebony" like "Onyx." This book provides such an like shooting fish in a barrel, attainable fashion for identification; it's totally relatable. My friend, who told me aboutShades Of Black, said that she and her sons had fun looking at the pictures also trying to figure out what they connected to most.
I am very grateful for this invaluable book and others like it. As our son gets older and nosotros happen upon other books that touch The Littlest Eastward, the wayShades of Black has, I'll be certain to write about it.
Paradigm: AfroDad (Duane Brayboy)
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First Haircut, A Cultural Experience
Posted in Child, Identity, Uncategorized, tagged Adoption, African American, Hairdresser, Barbershop, Children, Community, Haircut, Son, Transracial Adoption on January thirteen, 2012| Get out a Comment »
As many of yous know if you lot've been following my weblog, my son, The Littlest East, is originally from Ethiopia. My husband and I adopted him well-nigh eighteen months ago and it's been an astonishing journey. There are and so many things that go along with transracial adoption; one of them is a haircut. I am part of an online group of moms who have adopted from Ethiopia and there was a discussion near pilus products for their children also every bit where to get haircuts, but those discussions were for the daughters, not sons.
The Littlest E who is well-nigh 2 ½ years old had never had his hair cut, and it was fourth dimension. I had been hesitant merely because he truly has gorgeous, tight, curly, curly pilus and I hated to have it cut, but every bit I mentioned, the time had come. There is a hair salon nigh us that is specifically for children; they make a big to do of it, the child gets special attention and a treat at the end. Was that where we wanted to have our son for his outset cut? I and then saw a posting from a mom who brought her son to a fairly local barbershop and liked his cut. The barbershop sounded perfect, ran it by my husband, Tom, and we decided we'd go there for the BIG issue.
Since the barbershop was 20 miles away, we made a day of information technology. Nosotros told our son what was going to happen and he seemed okay with it all. Information technology turned out that the store was temporarily closed due to a power outage. Several days prior, there was a massive windstorm that caused untold damage to the area. Fortunately, on the door of the shop, was a listing of where each stylist was located for the time existence; i of them happened to be at a shop several blocks downwards the route, so we collection there. It was beginning to exist quite a niggling adventure for united states.
I knew it would exist an interesting experience walking into a barbershop where in that location was the potential my husband and I would be the just Caucasians in the place. I was a fleck nervous, but am always a bit nervous doing something new, not a bad affair, just a fact. The three of united states of america walked into the shop and all eyes were upon us. Certain enough, my husband and I were the merely white people there.
Everyone was checking u.s.a. out, and then realized our son was with us. They all went back to what they were doing – cutting and shaping pilus, sitting as the customer watching football game on TV, or only waiting. In that location was a mom with her son and they were playing games while waiting. The Littlest Due east wanted to join in their fun, simply they didn't seem to be up for that. Tom asked for the stylist who worked at the other store, and he was right in front of us. He was with someone and so our son was going to be next.
Sitting in that location waiting, I didn't quite know what to await. I've been to salons where you make idle chatter with the person adjacent to yous or read magazines. This wasn't that kind of place. Information technology was a barbershop for African-American men pure and simple and wasn't a place I would have normally gone to, except for our son. Everyone but did their thing and no 1 paid the states whatever mind. It was kind of similar being a woman in a gay bar; you're there, only basically ignored. Not that I wanted to draw attending to ourselves. Simply, this was a new experience, and a very different globe from the one I'thousand used to, which was neat.
Finally, it was The Littlest Due east's turn for his cutting. We asked Rashad, his hairdresser, for a trim. Rashad placed a large cushiony block on his barber chair for our son to sit on so he'd be taller making it easier for Rashad to cut his pilus. I could tell The Littlest East was nervous because he was and then quiet during the process. In social club to cut his hair, Rashad had to brush it out. We'd never seen our son'southward pilus equally an Afro. It was cute, only I preferred his condensed ringlets. Our son kept saying, "That hurts a little bit" while Rashad was brushing, which was difficult to hear. At ane point, he almost cried though concluded up non shedding a tear – brave male child! Of form we took pictures to retrieve the issue.
The cut didn't take also long and all his tangles were gone. When Rashad finished, I asked him most the hair authorities we did for our son to make sure we were doing the correct matter. It's important to add oil, not take it away past shampooing a lot. We shampoo in one case a calendar week, put leave-in conditioner on our son's hair nightly, and in the morning, use Moroccan oil in his hair. We brush out his hair occasionally to proceed the tangles at bay. Rashad told us we were doing fine. That was comforting to know. Nosotros thanked him for being so gentle on our son, got his business organisation card, shook easily and left. The Littlest E gave him a high-five.
I'm glad nosotros took The Littlest Eastward where nosotros did. Non sure if we'll go back to that exact spot, since there are other barbershops closer to us. We'll see. This experience represented something more just a haircut; information technology was a footstep into a world, which volition exist our son's world, or at least part of his world. He's African-American and may identify with the African-American customs. If, and when that happens, that will become our community too. Somehow this trip made the world a much smaller place.
Epitome: Señor Codo
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Questions Of Identity For A Transracially Adopted Child
Posted in Child, Identity, Uncategorized, tagged Adopted, Adoptive, Culture, Ethiopia, Ethiopian, Heritage, Identity, Little Ethiopia, Mom, Parents, Transracial Adoption on September 12, 2011| 2 Comments »
Recently my family and I went to an Ethiopian multicultural fair in Los Angeles that was sponsored past the Ethiopian community. Our 2-year one-time son, The Littlest E, is originally from Ethiopia and my married man and I felt information technology was of import for united states of america to go and be a part of this annual event celebrating the many cultures of Los Angeles, besides as the Ethiopian New year's day (which is September 11th). In that location is a sizeable Ethiopian population in LA, and when we arrived, the streets of Little Federal democratic republic of ethiopia were packed.
Information technology was wonderful to exist at that place and see so many people having a good time. Information technology was a chip likewise crowded to allow our little one run around, then we walked up and down the street listening to a concert of traditional Ethiopian music and watching the dancers. The dancers, moving their shoulders upwardly and downwardly in rhythm with the music, entranced our son. I call back I had more fun watching him watch them! I was having a good time, but there was a teeny tiny part of me that felt a tad out of place being there. I didn't have whatsoever real reason but my insecurity at being a white mom of an Ethiopian kid. It felt like I was eavesdropping on a private chat and it made me wonder what the other attendees were thinking, at least those who looked at us. We are a family that sort of stands out. Most people paid united states of america no heed and were engrossed in their own feel. I got over my uneasiness and enjoyed myself.
Going to the off-white got me thinking though, almost our son's identity. He's an Ethiopian born toddler adopted past ii Caucasian parents, and he's shortly to become an American denizen. How will he identify himself, equally he gets older? Will he consider himself an Ethiopian American, African American? Volition his colour matter to him? Where volition he fit in? How will he fit in? I recollect beingness at my husband'southward church building a few months subsequently nosotros brought The Littlest E home with us. One of the parishioners came upwards to me and told me to raise him as an American. I didn't quite know what to make of that. Was she suggesting nosotros deny his heritage and pretend he'southward non Ethiopian? Of class we'll raise him every bit an American considering nosotros are Americans and alive in the United States, but we won't deny him his heritage or culture. Both my hubby and I love Federal democratic republic of ethiopia – the people, the history, the culture, the food, and so why would we non be open to our son exploring the state where he was born?
We will go on all options on the tabular array for our son and betrayal him to a diverse life, with diverse communities, especially the Ethiopian community. Equally information technology stands now, nosotros participate in a monthly lunch at a restaurant in Trivial Ethiopia with other Ethiopian adoptive families and in that location are two organizations (Ethiopians for Ethiopians and the Little Ethiopia Cultural Resources Center) that have reached out to our adoptive community and offered our children classes in music, language, traditional dancing, history, and cooking so that our children can keep their heritage alive. Ane of the women from Ethiopians for Ethiopians approached usa at the fair and gave usa a pamphlet. She was very welcoming. My husband and I are excited at the prospect of The Littlest Eastward learning almost Ethiopian culture.
As our son gets older, he may or may non express an interest in Federal democratic republic of ethiopia, or he may be fascinated and want to acquire as much equally he tin. We don't know at this point. Only time volition tell how his life will unfold and what path he volition take. What we need to do, as his parents (especially since he'due south adopted from some other country), is to make certain he has equally many avenues open to him as possible and back up him in his endeavors. Mayhap, if we love, nurture, and provide him a home where he'south safe to develop and grow, and keep the lines of communication open up then when issues arise, he knows he tin can ask us tough questions, he'll gain plenty cocky-confidence, the question of his identity won't be a question at all.
Epitome: Tadias Magazine
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Inadvertent Racism
Posted in Child, Identity, Uncategorized, tagged Adoption, Husband, International Adoption, Mom, Parenting, Prejudice, Transracial Families on July 1, 2011| Go out a Comment »
Having an adopted kid from another race, we knew information technology was bound to happen sooner or later – a prejudiced comment. I didn't remember information technology would happen when The Littlest East was a toddler, and I certainly didn't remember it would happen at my husband's church building. But, information technology did.
My husband and I have different religions and his identify of worship is very important to him. We go, as a family, once a calendar month so we tin can all be together when he worships. I have ever felt welcome at his church (and nevertheless practice). I like and respect the clergy and the unabridged congregation has been so supportive of our adoption and love The Littlest E. That's why I was a scrap taken ashamed when I heard the remark.
During the service, The Littlest E and I were downstairs in the parish hall and nursery because he's besides picayune to sit down still for an entire service. In the nursery was an 11 year old girl, another little boy, slightly older than The Littlest E, the babysitter, and a teenage girl. She struck me as having a "know information technology all," tough girl air about her.
The babysitter was excited to encounter The Littlest E. He and I played for a fleck and then he went over to the teenager. He'southward always been fascinated with older kids. He such a friendly little guy and just stood there staring at her. She looked at him and said, "What?" every bit in "What areyou looking at?" I could see she didn't quite know how to handle him, so I said, "he's just beingness friendly. He likes older girls." She and then replied, "Oh, so he's going to be a pimp."
I didn't know how to respond, not quite a deer in the headlights reaction, but close. I had taken pre-adoption courses, had discussions with my hubby, family and friends on something like this happening, just I was caught off baby-sit. All I said was "No he won't," in a hushed tone. Within a few seconds, nosotros quietly walked out of the nursery back to the parish hall.
I did my best not to let the comment get to me, and The Littlest E was too little to understand what was said. He didn't know what a pimp was. I honestly didn't call back this teenager knew what she was saying or how it was taken. I blamed it on ignorance and decided not to say anything, only mention information technology to my husband. The Littlest E and I went on with our morning as though goose egg had happened.
It was afterwards the sermon during fellowship, when the babysitter and a couple of moms came up to me. She apologized profusely about the annotate. She made a bigger deal about it than I had intended, but maybe that was a adept thing. I idea, okay, since we're talking near this, why not plow information technology into something constructive. In our give-and-take, I learned the young daughter didn't take a positive female role model and had had a tough go of it. And so, I said to them, rather than reprimand her, why not take a couple of the moms reach out to her and gently let her know that the comment she said was inappropriate, to make information technology a teaching moment, rather than a shaming moment. Anybody seemed receptive to my idea.
Later, I mentioned everything to my husband. He was surprised by what happened, but in understanding as to how I handled the aftermath. He also idea my maxim that The Littlest E likes older girls, could have been worded differently and he was correct. Our family went dorsum the next calendar month and the rector and his assistant had heard about what happened, too, and apologized. They didn't desire us to experience uncomfortable in that location, they valued us. Nosotros told them not to worry, that information technology was water under the bridge.
As I reverberate on what occurred, I can't help only think that this is going to happen over again and I/nosotros need to be more prepared. We are involved with several different organizations, including an Ethiopian adoptive customs, all of which can provide us with guidance and experience. I learned I also need to watch whatI say.
Being The Littlest E's mom, I want to honey and protect him as best I tin can, to allow him know he's not the but African built-in child with Caucasian parents, to nurture the astonishing cocky he has inside him, and to exist there for him, if, and when, he hears prejudicial or hurtful comments. Hopefully, when that fourth dimension comes, he will have developed a solid sense of self and self-esteem to handle that kind of remark, inadvertent or not.
Image: treehouse1977 (Jim Champion)
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Source: https://melanieelliott.wordpress.com/category/child/identity/