Thursday, November 16, 2006

Different NOT Defective


My morning coffee is hitting the spot. I take another sip and try to relax as I'm already dressed and waiting for the events of my day to unfold. I'm sitting near the glass doors that open up to the deck and positioned in the perfect spot to watch the confusion of kids running through the living room, adults telling them to stop, and the laughter that's heard after another sarcastic comment flies through the air toward someone that wasn't expecting it. There are people scurrying all over this house and jockeying for position in front of every available mirror. When a bathroom door opens, steam escapes into the hallway with another shower completed and the next person dashes in to get their dosage of Irish Spring. Man this is fun. Rarely am I sitting on the sidelines watching the crowd go by. Usually I am the crowd and demanding that everybody watches me.

Where am I? I'm in the living room of my parent's Ozark mountain home. Since the mid 1970's we've made an annual trek to the Ozarks to vacation as a family and dream about the day my dad would build his retirement home there. At the time of this story, it's about 20 years later and we're now sitting in mom and dad's newly built home wondering why there's only enough bedrooms for them and two other guests. We're trying to figure out how to seat twenty-three people so we can eat together. Those of us not staying at hotels or nearby rented homes are taking turns using the showers. And, we're telling my dad to stop stoking his fireplace so we can all put our clothes back on. Every winter our family visit includes my dad keeping the fireplace going to the point where you'd think he was trying to sweat demons out of us. It hasn't worked. Most of us, at least the brothers and brothers-in-law, are still possessed.

It's Christmas time and all of my siblings and their children are getting ready this particular morning as we are scheduled for another one of our famous family portraits. Mom always manages to find a naive photographer that's available the day after Christmas or Thanksgiving. Not every year, but enough years to keep producing relatively current proof that we're all getting older. We dress up, load up, and the caravan of Glasses and their spouses head to the spot designated for capturing another photographic record of just what happens when people don't use birth control.

As I sit near the patio door, one of my nieces has been asked to sit on the couch across the room from me. Actually, like a puppy in training, she's been threatened to sit and stay. She's as cute as a bugs ear, which is one of my favorite sayings when describing what cute looks like. To tell you the truth, bugs and bugs ears aren't that cute but I won't tell if you don't.

There she sits all prettied up. She and I are the only two now that are ready to go while we wait for the others. Jackie's wearing a pretty dress that her mom put on her and I'm wearing the first $500 suite I've ever purchased along with an $80 silk tie. I don't know what got into me when I bought them but regardless, I was dressed to the nines and feeling pretty good about myself.

I'm still sipping my coffee, watching family members lose their minds, glancing down at a magazine, and every once and awhile launching another sarcastic remark just to make sure I'm not getting behind in the point system for the game of Glass Family Sarcasms. Suddenly, out of the chaos I hear my little niece, who's probably 3-years-old at the time, blurt out something that made me smile and nearly made me cry. After sitting and staying put for a few minutes, she throws both hands up in the air and with a big smile says,

"I can't believe it. Isn't it great! Everybody loves me."

I was one of the few to hear those words since Jackie and I were the only two stationary. Everybody else was in motion and making their own noises. This little three-year-old just spontaneously erupted with a very profound statement.

I don't remember what sparked her into action after that, but I remember the outcome. Before I knew it, the little girl who is so grateful that everybody loves her had scampered off the couch and straight for uncle JL. In those brief seconds I'm thinking, "Slow down little one, I've still got this hot cup of....yikes!" Too late. I now have a little niece on my lap, a lot of coffee on my $80 silk tie and a brown wet spot on my new dress shirt. Being that I'd been ready long before everybody else, I now thought I might be the last one to be ready and maybe only dressed to the sevens or eights.

I'm usually the uncle that loves the kids. I love to tease, entertain, tell jokes, and program them to say things their parents don't want them to repeat. However, sometimes I don't like kids. I can easily get overloaded from too much noise or chaos and I'm often found trying to flee and get away from the little one that won't stop crying, screaming or worse yet, whining. I don't know why my brother or two sisters don't beat their children more but if they were my kids....... LoL

So there we are. Smiling up at me is Jackie. In my right hand is a half emptied cup of coffee. On my tie and shirt is liquid evidence that a toddler has bypassed the words "be careful." Now I've got a decision to make. Do I get upset because this little "bugs ear" has turned me into a canvas of original artwork? Do I call her mother into the room and tell her to do a better job at raising anti-spill children? Or, do I simply understand that a 3-year-old has just done an age-appropriate thing. What do three-year-old kids do when they see someone that loves them? They see somebody that loves them and they run full speed to get a little more of it.

Now before you think there's nothing unique about Jackie's comment or her actions and before you think they're not really words or actions to smile or cry about, let me tell you the whole story.

For over 15 years my sister and her husband opened their home and marriage to parent foster kids. They were all seen as children in transition for the most part. But, the day came when someone in a Dallas, Texas apartment building heard the cry of a baby that nobody seemed to be responding to. Thanks to a snoopy neighbor, a baby girl, only a few days old, was rescued after being left by her mother, unattended. Nearly starved to death, this precious package was immediately hospitalized. Children's Services got a call and within days this little baby was in the care of two loving parents. Although it wasn't her parents, that didn't matter. It is a "nurturing love" that truly defines parenting. My sister and her husband were now the caregivers of an angel in transition, or so they thought.

Unlike many foster kids, this little one was eventually placed in the permanent custody of the state and parental rights were given up by her mother. This opened a door for my sister and her husband to consider adopting this child and to give her their name, their home, and a bright future. From the initial moment Jackie came to live with them up until a month ago when I saw her at her big brother's wedding, she has been loved by our entire family. The love has never stopped. She's growing up now and faster than we'd like.

Several friends of mine are adopted but it's not something most of us spend time discussing. It's a great thing to find a family when you would otherwise not have one. The draw back is, you may struggle with your sense of belonging and feelings of abandonment. The truth is, most mothers are not bad mothers. Most who allow their children to be adopted by another family are doing so because they are either ill equipped at parenting or they have their own demons that chase them. This particular mom had her own struggles to overcome before she could properly nurture anybody's child much less her own.

I heard from my mom the other day that Jackie at times is beginning to struggle with her sense of belonging and her identity. She's now 10-years-old and it's natural for all of us at that age to begin defining outselves but more sensitive an issue if you're adopted. You see by the picture above, Jackie is the little girl on the right. I love that picture. It was taken by my daughter a few years ago. It's two cousins putting a little love on each other. As you may have noticed, Jackie's skin doesn't exactly match the shade that most Scandinavian families have. To make matters increasingly difficult, she's at that age where children in school can be very thoughtless and cruel. Many times they're not even aware of how cruel they are. They just say what they think without much of a filter. That's why it's important that parents and grand parents concern themselves with teaching children how to be polite, how to be a friend, and how to accept everybody just as they are.

I guess I'm posting this entry in an effort to clarify something for my niece. In other words, this is personal. The rest of you get to listen in.

Dear Jackie,

This is uncle JL. I'm writing to tell you that I notice you. I always look forward to seeing you when I come to visit. There's no getting around your big smile and your vivacious personality. I also want you to know that I'm here for you when life doesn't always feel good. And, I want to address something that I've learned recently.

Jackie, I want you to know that if and when kids make fun of you or the color of your skin and wonder why your mom doesn't have skin that matches yours, you need to focus on this. You're not defective just because you're different. Yes you're different but we all are. In fact, you can thank God every day that you're different from uncle JL. Can you imagine having to live in my head 24 hours a day or having to stare at my face in the mirror? Yuk!

Different doesn't mean defective. When they show you a worksheet at school that displays three circles and one square, then they ask you to find which one doesn't belong, I'd tell them this. They all belong because "different" doesn't define whether or not something belongs. In fact Jackie, you more than belong. Sure you may at times feel like a square in a world of circles but belonging isn't measured by colors, shapes, and sizes. It's defined by love and acceptance.

You belong. You see God saw your differences before the foundation of this world was made and because he loves you, he made room for you at my sisters house. Why her house? Because she's different too. I know it ain't easy living with my sister but you can do it. She tends to try and wear the pants so you and your dad need to remind her how baggy they look on her. She tends to boss you and your dad around until you and your dad remind her that she's not the boss unless you're an employee - in which case, she needs to pay both of you for your services.

Uncle JL knows what it feels like to struggle with belonging. You don't have to have darker skin to feel uncomfortable in it. For me it's not my skin color but rather my ability to just be okay with being me. I've often found myself trying to be what people expect of me and that's called performance-based acceptance. I'm learning I don't have to perform in order to feel like I belong. You don't have to match skin color with me or your parents to define whether or not you belong.

Even though you've been "loved" into our family instead of "born" into it, you have my permission to still make the claim that you look more like your dad than you do your mom. Why? Because your dad is much prettier than your mom. Just because he's 6'5" tall and wears tennie-runners that you could live in, don't let that stop you from identifying with him. Wait, I was teasing about your dad being prettier. Your big brother is the prettier one.

As I wrap this up, I want you to know you've got two wonderful parents Jackie. Your siblings, Karen and David love you. All of your aunts, uncles, grand parents and cousins love you. You are wonderfully made. And, when you feel isolated or have a tendency to feel alone, it's okay. Sometimes we all have those feelings. Even the most popular kids at school sometimes feel alone. However, when you search for your identity and you want to find your sense of belonging, just keep in mind what you told me one day while you were sitting on grandma's couch many years ago.

"I can't believe it. Isn't it great! Everybody loves me."
Believe it Jackie. It is great. We do love you!

Love,
Uncle JL


Today's Thought: From your day's of infancy to your dying day, love will always motivate you to run toward its source. Two things that can screw that up are...1. If you've defined "different" as meaning "defective." People who believe they're defective struggle with accepting they are loved. Being different is good news. Be thankful. 2. Have you discovered your "sense of belonging" based on Love or on exterior markings and gifts and talents? People who only feel loved for what they look like, what they can do or what they have, haven't learned that genuine love just is. You don't have to earn it nor do you have to have the right color of skin to receive it.

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