Question Day
Every day the girls and I run errands, shop, swim and play in parks and rarely am I asked a question about my kids. Today, for some reason, was "Ask the Mom questions day". Not once, not twice, but three times today I found myself dealing with questions about my kids. These days, I have a policy of only answering the questions that are asked unless the person provides me with an unsolicited explanation of why they want to know. (I will chat with waiting parents, grandparents, friends of adoptees all day long and I find their approach is usually a little different.) This strategy provides me with hours of entertainment as I watch the clueless try to figure out why this nice lady isn't helping them out at all.
It started at Starbuck's this morning. I am waiting for a much needed Chai Latte and trying to keep the Magster from tossing coffee mugs on the tile floor. This woman looked at me and said, "Are those your daughters?"
Sticking to my strategy, I answered, "Yes."
She continued, "Oh, they look Asian. Is your husband Chinese?"
"No," I answered as I pulled the Magster off of a display shelf she was climbing.
Again, she persisted, "But, you said they were yours?"
"Yes," I answered. The coffee was done, the kids were going wild, and I left without further explanation, but kind of laughing to myself as I could tell she wanted to continue the inquisition. Poor thing was probably left wondering, "How does that white lady have Asian kids if her husband isn't Chinese?"
Later, we were at La Nina's gymnastics class, when one of the Mom's started, "Are they real sisters?"
"Of course," I answered. This is a pretty common question, so I was in very familiar territory.
"No, I mean, 'really real' sisters," she continued. This is a little more unusual as I am not sure what she means. What is really real? Only full-blooded siblings? Do half siblings count? What about step siblings? And how do you count those children with similar DNA but who grew in different wombs? I am just so confused by "Real".
Rather than get into a theoretical discussion of the definition, I sweetly answered, "Really real."
So, then she sneered, "Oh. I would have guessed they were adopted or something. They don't look anything like you. "
Weren't we talking about the kids, not me? I decided there was no reason to tell her she was correct as her tone of voice ticked me off. Normally, I am quite enthusiastic if someone guesses the girls are adopted. It is a chance for me to tell someone in front my kids about the magic of adoption, but the sneer in her voice was so grating and I am well aware the kids don't look like me.
The final episode happened when I showed someone my camera and demonstrated the playback features.
"Are these your kids?" She asked as she peered at the little screen on the back of the camera.
"Yes," I answered. I actually didn't realize she was asking an adoption question, I thought she was just asking about the picture.
"They don't look like you at all. Are they half Asian?"
"No," I answered. (They aren't.)
Crushed she said, "I just turned 40 and I am really starting to need glasses to see these little screens. Because I could swear these kids look Asian on this screen."
Feeling the pain of 40 myself, I explained my children to this poor woman and she laughed. "Oh, well, I should have figured that. My best friend adopted from China and would probably kill me if she knew I just asked you that. That was a rude question, wasn't it?" I laughed and told her I was used to questions and now used the answers for cheap entertainment. She laughed and told me that she would tell her friend my strategy.
It is so hard to know how to handle all these questions now that La Nina is old enough to understand the questions and answers. I don't want her to think she has an obligation to tell anyone anything, yet she has nothing to be ashamed of either. I don't want her to feel defensive, yet I want to teach her how to defend herself. For me, this strategy finally seems like the one that allows me to answer questions, maintain our privacy and make it all a game. Also, I hope it gives her permission to have a little fun with the whole race thing, because our world is just so serious these days.
It started at Starbuck's this morning. I am waiting for a much needed Chai Latte and trying to keep the Magster from tossing coffee mugs on the tile floor. This woman looked at me and said, "Are those your daughters?"
Sticking to my strategy, I answered, "Yes."
She continued, "Oh, they look Asian. Is your husband Chinese?"
"No," I answered as I pulled the Magster off of a display shelf she was climbing.
Again, she persisted, "But, you said they were yours?"
"Yes," I answered. The coffee was done, the kids were going wild, and I left without further explanation, but kind of laughing to myself as I could tell she wanted to continue the inquisition. Poor thing was probably left wondering, "How does that white lady have Asian kids if her husband isn't Chinese?"
Later, we were at La Nina's gymnastics class, when one of the Mom's started, "Are they real sisters?"
"Of course," I answered. This is a pretty common question, so I was in very familiar territory.
"No, I mean, 'really real' sisters," she continued. This is a little more unusual as I am not sure what she means. What is really real? Only full-blooded siblings? Do half siblings count? What about step siblings? And how do you count those children with similar DNA but who grew in different wombs? I am just so confused by "Real".
Rather than get into a theoretical discussion of the definition, I sweetly answered, "Really real."
So, then she sneered, "Oh. I would have guessed they were adopted or something. They don't look anything like you. "
Weren't we talking about the kids, not me? I decided there was no reason to tell her she was correct as her tone of voice ticked me off. Normally, I am quite enthusiastic if someone guesses the girls are adopted. It is a chance for me to tell someone in front my kids about the magic of adoption, but the sneer in her voice was so grating and I am well aware the kids don't look like me.
The final episode happened when I showed someone my camera and demonstrated the playback features.
"Are these your kids?" She asked as she peered at the little screen on the back of the camera.
"Yes," I answered. I actually didn't realize she was asking an adoption question, I thought she was just asking about the picture.
"They don't look like you at all. Are they half Asian?"
"No," I answered. (They aren't.)
Crushed she said, "I just turned 40 and I am really starting to need glasses to see these little screens. Because I could swear these kids look Asian on this screen."
Feeling the pain of 40 myself, I explained my children to this poor woman and she laughed. "Oh, well, I should have figured that. My best friend adopted from China and would probably kill me if she knew I just asked you that. That was a rude question, wasn't it?" I laughed and told her I was used to questions and now used the answers for cheap entertainment. She laughed and told me that she would tell her friend my strategy.
It is so hard to know how to handle all these questions now that La Nina is old enough to understand the questions and answers. I don't want her to think she has an obligation to tell anyone anything, yet she has nothing to be ashamed of either. I don't want her to feel defensive, yet I want to teach her how to defend herself. For me, this strategy finally seems like the one that allows me to answer questions, maintain our privacy and make it all a game. Also, I hope it gives her permission to have a little fun with the whole race thing, because our world is just so serious these days.
posted by One Lucky Mom @ 10:03 PM
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