Last week someone special emailed me about a blog post I did. They referred to me as a "martyr". I read the sentence a few times and thought that was a bit of an extreme label for me. When she emailed me a follow-up a couple of minutes later, she said she meant to write "mentor", not "martyr". I had a good chuckle.
Since then, as I've been reading other blogs and having a few of my own moments of drama, the word "martyr" has snuck into my brain again.
None of us are being killed because we choose to adopt or homeschool. Martyr is too extreme of a word. But I must say, there are definitely some moments where us families feel like things can't get much harder. I previously posted this, and I'd like to re-post it to really emphasize what adoptive families go through:
"Many of us families scrape together everything we can, and even fundraise, to get our adoption bills covered. We are scrutinized by social workers and various government branches. We sit on pins and needles and go through the longest "pregnancies" imaginable. We have happy moments and depressing moments. At the same time we feel joy for another couple with a new baby [adopted or biological] we feel sad and broken inside waiting for our own children. Yes, our OWN children. We get tired of explaining why we choose to adopt, especially to strangers. We get tired of telling people that although they are adopted, they are our OWN children; blood doesn't make us family. We finally receive some beautiful photographs, along with more bills to pay, and we have to continue in the forever long hurry-up-and-wait game until we can pass through some more government offices and pray paper work and visas are cleared. Then there's travel, and hope that jobs aren't lost as extended vacations are needed to unite with our family, not to mention giving up our family holidays to save them for the trip."
So we get home with our children. We're exhausted from the trip, but happy to be with our children. We're learning to be parents to a new child that doesn't know us, that doesn't know Canada, that doesn't understand English, that doesn't understand far more than most adults would ever realize. We're parents learning what kind of baggage our children may have gone through by dealing with unknown fears, insecurities, anger, neglect, sickness, malnutrition .... We're having to sit patiently and wait for citizenship ID, name changes, medical cards and other government agencies to acknowledge our family. Then ... we have to go to the store to get some groceries. Uh-oh. Out comes the stares and questions private enough they might as well have asked you if you’re wearing underwear and what size!
Sure, we chose to have inter-racial families. In a sense we chose to be a conspicuous families, but not for the sake of being conspicuous. Just because we chose these families, doesn't give the right to everyone else to invade our privacy.
None of us like having to tell people that it's none of their business what happened to our child[ren]'s birth families, or explain that we didn't "buy" a child, nor how much it cost to adopt them, or defend the fact that they don't have AIDS just because they're from Ethiopia. We don't need to tell complete strangers our life stories just because we have conspicuous families. We don't need to explain that we're not against domestic adoptions just because we choose to adopt internationally.
The children feel it and hear it too. "Mama, why do people stare at me?" "Why do people always want to touch my hair?" "Why is everyone taking my picture?" [My son finally hit a stranger’s camera out of his hands for taking his picture.] "Why did so-and-so say I'm the poor kid?" "Why did someone tell me I'm here because my parents are dead?" “Mama, if I’m not allowed to talk to strangers, why do they ask so many questions about us?”
And now that our family is homeschooling ... it's opened a whole nother can of worms for us. Another line of defenses have to come out. So, hopefully for the last time ...
Yes, I do enjoy homeschooling.
No, our son has not come to hate me for teaching him.
Yes, our son loves learning at home.
Yes, we let our son be part of the decision to homeschool.
No, we are not worried about socialization issues.
Yes, our son is involved in many activities outside the home. Perhaps more than most children as we're not confined to extra-curricular activities available only after public school hours.
No, we are not hoping to run a cult with children working for us.
Yes, we may choose to go the public route later. Just because we've chosen homeschool at this moment in our lives, does not mean we have to do it through graduation.
Are we adoptive families and homeschool families martyrs? By definition, no. But some days are a little more defensive than others. Forgive us if we occasionally snap when we get tired of the interrogations.
And yet ... we still would never trade our families for anything. We would still do it all over again in a heart beat. We still encourage everyone that the frustration is worth every moment and more!