That’s what my daughter Madison has taken to calling Pennie. She says, “You know, my real real mama.” When she talks about her adoption, she says, “It’s hard to miss your real real mama.” They were talking about adoption on Arthur the other day and she told me, “Hey! Adopted like me!” then she added, “You don’t know what it’s like to be adopted.”
You know, just in case I was going to try to play like I knew anything about it.
We are reading Charlotte’s Web for our bedtime book right now and after we read tonight she wanted to talk some about being adopted. We talked about the things she misses and then we talked about the things she has (like Noah) because she is adopted. We talked about how one doesn’t make up for the other but it’s ok to be happy and it’s ok to be sad and that adoption is complicated. “Yeah,” she said. “Like missing your real real mama.”
“Well,” I said. “I can’t make that better for you, honey. I wish I could but I love you.”
“I know,” she said. “I know you’re doing the best you can. I love you, too.”
It sounds like a very gloomy conversation but it wasn’t. She is very matter of fact about it all. I was just thinking about how she says “real real mama” and how that’s supposedly “negative adoption language.” I guess in the mouth of the wrong person it could be but hearing it from my daughter, well, I know what she means.
So I wanted to write a little bit about hearing Madison use that term “real mother” or “real real mama” (emphasis hers!) and how it makes me feel. The locus for any sadness I have hearing that term is centered on her and on recognizing the challenges she has. What I told her is that everybody has a story and that if you’re adopted, your story is more complicated. I told her that other people have complicated stories, too (like Quinn‘s story, because she thinks a lot about Quinn) but that other people have easier stories.
“Like Noah,” she said darkly. We agreed that Noah has an easier story.
But while I feel sad that she has a rougher row to hoe, I also know that this good-natured, smart and loving child is going to be ok. I think this because of the matter-of-fact way she can tell me that she wishes she weren’t adopted. Because she can talk to me so clearly and honestly about it, I also feel ok asking her if she can see the good sides of being adopted — like having an older brother. She agreed, giggling and pretending to be reluctant, that Noah is a good thing in her adoption; she’s glad to be his little sister. And I agreed that this doesn’t mean she can’t miss Pennie. We agreed together that adoption means both — happy and sad. That’s why her story is complicated.
I told her that as she gets older, her adoption story will make more sense. I said, “There are a lot of adult ideas in your adoption that you can’t understand when you’re five but you will understand more and more as you get older.” I also told her that she will probably have more questions because that’s the other thing about adoption — the more you understand, the more questions there are.
In the positive adoption language paradigm, the opposite of “real” mother is “artificial” mother but I don’t know. I know what she means when she says “real real” and I don’t think it impugns me. I’ve always said that Pennie is the noun mother and I’m the verb mother and I guess another way to say that is that Pennie is “real real” because she IS the mother. I am mothering and the mothering (the act) is real but it is the act that creates the mothering. See, Pennie doesn’t have to create the mothering by doing because she IS the mother by virtue of being.
Does that make sense?
But if it’s the act of mothering that makes me mother than I don’t need to be threatened by her “real real” mother who IS mother. Because it’s not a contest; it just is. It’s what we are. There just aren’t enough words in the English language and so there are qualifiers. None of these are negative when they are said by my daughter who intimately understands the definitions of the people she loves.
Sometimes I’m amused that Madison — who hasn’t read adoption books or adoption blogs — hits on the language that adoptive parents most fear. Because when she says it, how can you deny the truth of it? She knows what she knows. She’s one smart cookie. And I’m proud to be her (legally defined) mother along with her real real mother. She is good stuff.
Nailed it as usual, Dawn!
ah, i see Shannon LC Cate basically said the same thing that i was goign to write to leave a comment on, but i’ll say it anyways:
dawn, i’m always glad of the fact that you blog; because so so often you use your real talent/gift/skill of being good at writing, to help explain things that are nuanced and complicated, — but you do it with such clarity.
` i personally know the frusteration when trying to defend myself against non-likeminded and not-terribly-sensitive-to-giving-me-latitude-to-describe-my-reality people, because i’m not so skilled at putting things in writing.
often when i read your posts, something inside me cheers and pumps its fist and declares “YA! what SHE said — see, life IS more complicated and nuanced than you’re giving me room for!”
so, yeah, thanks for blogging and using your great skill at writing for exploring all this complicated stuff.
I love your description of the noun vs. the verb mother. I think it’s wonderful that madison can articulate so many of the complexities. she has some terrific guidance.
Yep. Yep. Yep.
Wish I had something more eloquent to say. My 6 year old says, and means, the same thing. And yep, I think you’re right.
Noun versus verb. You totally nailed it in a way that makes so much sense to me, and I have no personal stake in adoption. You have such a way of explaining adoption and its complexities that makes it understandable to “regular” people. I hope when you get your counseling degree that you focus on adoptive families and complicated families–you will do so much good.
That Madison, saying you are doing the best you can is so telling I think.
None of this seems negative to me (you know I’m all about talking, talking the hard stuff) because of how YOU are framing everything for her.
All of you are real, real. I love your family and how you don’t let the hard stuff get in the way of the good stuff.
I don’t really know how to put this, but I’m sort of glad you and Madison ended up part of a transracial adoption because I think that element makes it even easier for her to separate out the matching/unmatching living/being stuff than it might have been otherwise and it’s easier (maybe) for you to see what she’s missing. I don’t know if this makes any sense, but I think being able to talk about adoption and being able to talk about being black have been key to getting her the language she needs to make sense of her life. A lot of verbing-parents would encourage her toward one or the other but not both, and I think it’s the combo that makes her able to understand and articulate things so clearly.
I also think it’s awesome that Madison is so interested in other people’s stories too. That should serve her well in the future. She’s just so great!
No, Thorn, I totally agree. I think transracialness and openness force adoption truths out into the open in a way that have made it easier for me to get what’s going on with her. I don’t know how it would have been if we’d adopted a white child in a closed adoption.
The “real” comment has always driven me nuts, because it’s usually someone who doesn’t know jack about adoption or our situation assuring me I’m my child’s real mother.
Noelle and I have always said we’re both real. Mallory on the other hand gets defensive when strangers talk about it, and calls me her real mother. I think it’s because she still at that place where she feels she has to defend her adoption and family.
Hmmmm, I wonder if when I get older if my adoption story will make more sense.
“I don’t know how it would have been if we’d adopted a white child in a closed adoption.”
We actually know a white couple who didn’t tell their multiracial daughter she was even adopted until she went to school and this kids started asking her questions about her family.
It boggles my mind.
They sent her to adoptee summercamp when she was 6 and she learned that being adopted is cool. She also learned to high five adoption because being adopted just rocks!
These people are not mean or cruel, in fact, they are quite nice but they are completely clueless when it comes to adoption. they seem to have the old school belief that once those papers were signed they were the only “REAL PARENTS” of any value to this child.
Their daughter is a beautiful girl. She has a wonderful spirit but I always see her hanging out at school alone. She reminds me of me.
This spring I told her I was adopted. She looked surprised and then told me we would talk sometime. I’m here if she needs me.
I wish her parents knew about families like yours. None of us have all the answers but I’m glad you let her have an outlet for her emotions other than “Adoption is cool.”
“See, Pennie doesn’t have to create the mothering by doing because she IS the mother by virtue of being. Does that make sense?”
Yes, it does. Excellent, excellent post.
Your daughter sounds much like my 9 year old, adopted a little over a year ago. I also am not bothered by her use of “real” in refering to her mom or other family in Ethiopia. I know what our family is for her and we will never replace her first family and that’s okay.
[...] again) brought the issue of adoption language to the forefront of my mind. I am reminded of this blog post by adoptive parent and Adoption Mosaic Guest Blogger Dawn Friedman who blogs at This Woman’s [...]
[...] was speaking to. Am I offended by his reference to her as mom? Absolutely not. I love the way Dawn and Madison have been explaining the Mom relationships in open adoption, and am glad I’ve been reading [...]