Kicked Out of School for This Blog.

How much of one’s story is too personal to share?  When does it go from being a story about personal triumph over adversity (even if that adversity is sometimes caused by our own bad choices) to inappropriate details about our private lives that should remain private?  This is the question I faced this morning as I was called in to see the head of a private school in which my 5-year-old son had been offered a spot.  He was supposed to start Kindergarten there in twelve days.  We would normally not be in a position to attend such an elite school, but because they needed boys in that particular class, and because we were in the right place at the right time, we were able to work out a deal that would benefit all involved.  I was hesitant because I am not rich.  I don’t run in those types of social circles.  The newest car we have is a 2005 and I’m just not that Lululemon-wearing, Lexus-driving, latte-swigging mom.  I have nothing against it.  Financially, it’s just not our crowd.  But, after some interesting conversations with those who had experience with this school, we decided to put our fears and inadequacies aside, and go for it.

At least, we thought we were going to, until a staff member saw a link to my blog on the bottom of my email.  Less than twenty-four hours later, I was told this school just wouldn’t be a good fit for us.  You might think my blog showed pictures of me hung over at a New Year’s Eve party, or perhaps joking about having smoked weed in my younger days.  Or perhaps it might have used bad language, or racial slurs, or had pictures of me in a string bikini with my arm draped around some guy other than my husband.  But no.  It was this blog, where I write about our adoption experience.

I won’t attempt to include the entire conversation here, as it lasted about 25 minutes.  But I will hit the highlights.  I was told that there was no good that could come of me putting this kind of personal information on the internet.  She asked me several times what good I thought I was doing by airing my “dirty laundry”.  And by “dirty laundry”, she was referring mainly to two things (out of almost 50 blog posts over the last few years).  The first was that I mentioned that my boys had been exposed to drugs in the womb.  The second was that I mentioned my husbandhad been arrested two times before, both of which were thrown out before it even went to a judge because they were so ridiculous.  “Why would you share that with anyone?” she asked several times.  But the part that really got me was that she said that she was concerned that parents at this school might not want to include my son in playgroups or birthday parties or other social gatherings because he had been exposed to drugs.  She told me I should keep that a secret and that there was no reason that even my son should ever know that information.  She said that their school was a positive place and that there wasn’t room for the negativity or the “poor me” attitude I displayed in my writing.  I explained to her that not one of my posts were about “poor me” and that each one, although perhaps sharing some difficult experience, always took a positive spin and left the reader with an understanding of the good things that have come from it.  I could tell by the way she referred to my writing, that she hadn’t even taken the time to read through the blog herself, at least not very much of it.  I have written about everything from drug exposure, to the crazy process you have to go through, to our own experiences with invitro, to our failed adoption—every thing you could possibly want to know about this process is there. Yes, it’s personal, but I don’t think it is so horrible that it should be the reason my son is not allowed to attend this school.  I am not ashamed of one thing I have written.

I tried to explain that the current research on adoption shows that the secrecy of the past adoption culture has proven to be detrimental to children.  Secrets mean shame to a child.  If my son were to find out from someone else that he was born positive for drugs, then he would know I had lied to him, and he would assume I lied because something was so wrong with him that I wouldn’t tell him the truth.  I told her I will continue to share all of his story with him, age appropriately, and that at some point in his life, he would know every detail.  Research has shown this is the better path.  She argued that there are adopted children at this school who know nothing about their past, and that these children are just grateful to have what they have and they don’t think about their adoption story.  I cannot disagree with this more.  Perhaps they don’t ask many questions now, but this school doesn’t take middle school or high school aged children, which is when most of them begin questioning as they are figuring out their own identity.  And my guess is that she has not done much research on the subject, or she wouldn’t have made such a blanket statement.

So much more was said, but the point is that it was clearly stated that my story should be private, and there was absolutely no reason for having these details made public.  I told her that I was in the middle of writing a book about a lot of my difficult experiences and that the adoption story was only a part of that. I told her that I would be willing to leave some things off the blog, but that wasn’t enough for her.  She wanted the whole blog to be removed, and for nobody to ever be able to trace those stories to me.  She requested that work on the book be private, meaning it could not be published as long as any of our children attended school there.  I was not to write publicly about any of it again.  I was floored to hear such censorship in 2014, especially for what I consider such non-controversial material.  I told her that I was sad for him to miss out on the opportunity of going to such a great school, but if parents and teachers were going to ostracize my young son for choices beyond his control, then I didn’t want him going there anyway.

I felt a little selfish for not giving up a blog for this opportunity for a great education.  But I think it’s more than that.  If I am being censored over this kind of information, then what was next?  What else was not going to be acceptable?  I asked her if there were no other parents at that school who blogged about their life, or who had written anything controversial.  She said she wasn’t aware of any.  I find it hard to believe that nobody there has a past that is public in some way.  You’re telling me nobody has ever posted a picture of themselves on Facebook doing something inappropriate?  Or made a public comment that was controversial in any way?  Please.

I would love to hear thoughts/comments, even if you agree with the school.  I’ve been stewing about this conversation all day, trying to see it from their side, and I just can’t.  Read through my blog posts, and tell me if anything is inappropriate or cause for my son to be kept out of a school.  I truly want to know.

The Perfect Family. It Ain't Happening. And It's a Good Thing.

The perfect family.  What a terrible goal.  And yet, it just seems like that’s what we all are trying so hard to attain and the thing at which we are failing so miserably.  I don’t mean that to sound so depressing and negative, but, let’s face it, it’s an unattainable goal.  One thing I’ve learned in my two-decade quest to have a child is that so many of things we thought we would have when we were older just don’t happen for one reason or another.  And it’s not a bad thing.  We think it is for some reason.  We think that we should have reached all those goals we set for ourselves at eight or fifteen or twenty-two.  Why is that?  Since when does an eight or fifteen or twenty-two-year-old have such amazing prophetic insight to know what we will want or what will benefit us most twenty or thirty years down the road?  Heck, I don’t even have that kind of insight for the next six weeks!

I have posted several times about this “Attachment Parenting” class that we have been taking, and will continue to post because there have been so many amazing insights and bits of information that are worth sharing in this six-session course.  This notion of having the ideal family is one of them.  As often goes with this class, there was an activity to illustrate the point.  They gave us each a sheet of paper with an outline of a child on it.  We were directed to list inside the outline all the qualities we had ever dreamed of having in our child.  What did we wish for?  What did we think our child might be like when we were younger?  Outside the outline, we were told to write all the qualities that we thought we would have as parents.  What did we want to be like as a parent?  How did we envision ourselves in that role?   What things would we do differently, because we just knew that our parents were wrong about certain things and we couldn’t wait to show them the correct way to parent.  Trying to be one step ahead of where this game was headed, I tried to make sure I was well-rounded in my wish list.  I didn’t just want a “good” kid.  I wanted him or her to be independent and creative and have a good work ethic.  And I wanted to look like a great parent and say that I wanted to be involved and affectionate and disciplined.  And there is nothing wrong with any of these things.  In fact, I thought I had a pretty good list.  But, I was surprised with what happened next.  One of the other teachers picked up a trash can and walked over to our tables and said “now throw it away”.  And she made each of us crinkle up that paper with our well-thought out descriptions and throw it towards her as she caught it in the trash can.  They told us to go ahead and mourn the loss of that ideal, get over it and move on.  It was a light bulb moment.

The thing is, how can we know how life is going to turn out?  How can we have even a ten percent chance of being accurate with what twists and turns our lives will take?  Now, some people know what they want to be when they grow up and they go out and they do it.  But it’s rare.  Most of us have goals and dreams, but the tides and swells take us this way and that and we adjust and shift our focus and move on to other things.  And that’s amazing.  Human beings are so flexible and can go with the flow in so many ways.  So why do we look back on it and wonder what happened to those dreams?  I’ll tell you what happened to them.  Life.  That’s what happened.  And it’s a good thing.  Go with it.  Because more often than not, we get more interesting and incredible opportunities than we even knew existed at eight or fifteen or twenty-two.  And often, we are faced with things we never would have chosen, and after fighting through those battles, we realize that we are better people because of it and never would have become who we are without those challenges.  And that is the point with raising kids, and especially adopting kids.  Our family may not look like or act like the family we thought we would have.  We may have gotten kids through a completely different channel than we had planned.  And they come with relationships and baggage and all kinds of things we never expected.  But we need to see that our life has a greater purpose than making a beautiful Christmas card  photo.  We have work to do.  We have children to help and love and raise.  We have so many ways that we can make a difference in this world and in the lives of others and that is fulfilling and life-changing.  It will bring happiness if we can throw away that dusty image in our minds that we created decades ago and that is pinned in our brains as the ideal life.  We are going to have bad days.  We are going to have days where we feel that we are the worst parents in the world.  Our kids are going to pitch fits and embarrass us in public.  Our kids will have mental and physical challenges.  They might have birth defects or ADD or be painfully shy.  They might struggle with self-confidence, or go through difficult phases of biting or hitting or spitting or all of the above.  They might tell us they hate us or that we aren’t their real parents.  We might have days where we aren’t feeling so much love for them.  We might have days where we aren’t feeling so much love for ourselves.  We will get sick, sometimes with long-term, debilitating illnesses.  We will get frustrated and lonely and depressed.  And that’s okay, because we will have many more wonderful moments and even entire days.  And we will mercifully catch glimpses of perfection when our children look into our eyes and we know for a fact that we’ve made a connection and we know that they know that we love them and that we are in it for the long haul.  Even forever. 

The thing is, we aren’t here to have a perfect family.  We are here to give our children the best opportunity at perfecting themselves that we can offer.  And I don’t mean that they need to be perfect, but that they have the best chance of being their best self.  So crinkle up that ideal list in your mind and throw it away.  Burn it if you have to, so you can’t possibly dig it out of the trash.   And then grab your kids and go to the zoo.  Do some craft project with them and don’t worry if it makes a mess or if they don’t follow your directions to a tee.  Just revel in the fact that you are spending time with them and that there is love there.  Hug them, laugh with them, accept them and nurture them.  And relax and know that that is what family is all about.