What the!?

I don't usually just rant (on my blog), but this is too much!  What the heck?  I'm sitting at the salon getting my hair cut, when my stylist and good friend asks if I have heard anything about this United Airlines scandal.  I hadn't, because I was listening to an audio book on the way to my appointment (a book about WW2 Germany).  She gives me the second hand information she had which was interesting enough to warrant googling it from my chair.  We read just one article and are both so shocked we don't know what to think.

Now, two days later, it just keeps getting creepier.  I don't care who you are, how do you justify dragging a paying customer off of a plane just because you need to get one of your employees to another airport?  Then you try covering your ass by publicly embarrassing this customer with his 10 year old criminal history.  First, did you choose this guy because he had a criminal history?  Or was it because he was born outside the U.S.?  How did you come up with his criminal history so quickly and conveniently for yourself?  And why on the flip side does the media keep pointing out that he's a doctor?  So what?  What if he was a baseball coach, or a stay at home mom, or a McDonald's customer service rep?  Who in the world do you think you are, and why do you think that makes your incredibly terrible "customer service" justified? 

Customer service, what does that even mean?  It used to mean that someone was a customer.  They probably were interested in the goods or services you were providing.  They gave you money, and you provided something, likely something positive not a trip to the nearest hospital.  Service implies that you were serving them.  Serving, like putting them before you.  Like setting aside your comfort or bottom line to make their experience more enjoyable, so that they might want to interact with you again.  Well done United!  I don't want my two kids in Mississippi calling you for a ride home, EVER!  Apparently our society has decided that self service is the way to go.  I suggest we start re-thinking our self defense.  This is just a very real example of our society's ideas about who merits consideration and what motivates our willingness to treat people in any kind of dignified, human manner.

I cannot wrap my mind around this situation.  My heart is broken for this man and his family.  But there are so many things this year that I can't wrap my mind around that I am very thankful God is still in Heaven and I am not running this show.  I will not put my trust in man, or woman, or anyone else.  I will treat those around me like they are human, because they are.  I have to ask myself what would I have done if I were in the seat next to this unfortunate man.  I pray that I would have intervened.  What would I have done if I were the stewardess?  I find myself more and more asking myself what is my part?  Who am I called to stand up for and stand up to?  God give me the wisdom and grace not to become dehumanized by this culture of individual rights and basic lack of kindness.  Let me not become so cynical that I no longer bring glory to my savior.  I put my hope in God, for He alone can bring grace to me and through me.  I pray that my brothers and sisters in Christ will be strong and courageous in the days ahead and will be willing to stand up for those who can't.

Some very imperfect thoughts on race

Issues of race relations have come up frequently at the Schumaker house lately.  I have two girls living in Mississippi, who are on a track team in which they are the minority.  My son chose a piece for his school's speech meet that was an excerpt from a book about two boys, one white and one black, who become friends by playing basketball together.  I had some friends over for the weekend, who started counting black people the minute we stepped into the mall.  All of our black friends start counting up the number of black people at the mall.  It has never been more than 10 and that usually includes at least two that we brought with us.

My perspective is obviously from a white person in a predominately white part of the world.  I understand that I have had the benefit of years of being in the power position and that I have not even noticed it most of the time.  I don't count up the numbers of racial minorities while shopping as a rule.  It makes me very uncomfortable to talk about race relations, mostly because I know that I'm in the class that has been the oppressors most of the time.  I know that I am oblivious to the struggle that others deal with every single day.  I know that it isn't fair, and ultimately I'm in the class that God is going to hold accountable for all the times we ignored the struggles of those around us, because we assumed they had all the same experiences we have.  I admit my own lack of awareness, even when I think I am paying attention.

One thing that really brought me up short is when my nine year old son told me that it makes him really angry when we read about how minorities have been treated in Europe and the United States throughout our history.  I told him that it made me angry too, and it does, but my anger will not be viewed the same way his will.  I will not be seen as a threat in my anger, he will.  That scares me and makes me feel very sad.  How many young black men are righteously angry about the way they and their ancestors have been treated only to be met with the same fear that has kept them captive for generations?  They have every reason to be angry.  What is my response?  Does my response even matter?  These are questions I don't even know the answer to.  What do I tell my son?  I really can't relate to the position that he is in.  I can empathize, but is that powerful enough to change anything?  I feel a little hypocritical to tell him that anger doesn't help, but that being the best person God made you to be will.  If I had grown up black in this hometown and dealt with the attitudes he has deal with then I might have the clout to give him some really good advice, but my advice is very hypothetical.  I know that people will treat him differently when I am around than when I am not.  That makes me angry and it makes me feel powerless.

My daughters were talking about their weekend plans, and I burst in with warning them that they probably shouldn't go certain places with their friends.  Even as I said it I realized how hypocritical it was.  They had taken these same friends with them to meet their friends for the weekend, and those moms probably weren't very excited about those plans either.  I realized that I have to let my girls be willing to be in tough situations to know how it feels to be in the minority and to have to deal with anger that isn't necessarily at you, but is still causing the problem.  These kids have to test their friendships and realize that being from different racial backgrounds will bring tension in certain situations.  We have kids that deal with it every single day living in our house.  I can't let fear cause me to tell my kids they can't spend time with their friends on their friend's turf.  They may face some ugliness, but that is the reality of life.  I know this may make some people cringe, but I think that being overprotective in this situation only perpetuates the problem.  Part of growing up is facing down ugliness wherever it meets you.  I know that God is with them and He has been dealing with ugliness for a lot longer than I have.

My son chose his speech meet piece from a book that I had not read, but that his sister recommended to him.  When he brought it home from school it had been edited.  I hadn't read it, so I asked him why.  He told me that the parts about the white kids had been cut out.  I sat down and read it and wondered if this was appropriate.  (*As a side note, we asked why that section had been cut out.  The piece was on the long side for the assignment.  They did allow him to read the whole piece.)  I read it to all of my kids and asked them how they felt about it.  Most of them were okay with it, but Martha wasn't.  It made her angry.  Of course I don't want to be provocative to people of other races at school.  I am grateful for the diversity that our school has and for the variety of nationalities that I regularly have around my table.  I don't want to be poking my finger in people's eyes just to make a point.  My question was, "is it right to just cross out some realities in our history?"  The inequalities in our country are real.  To just not talk about them seems like we, as white people, are trying to just overlook things that really are happening.  Are we really trying not to make someone else angry, or are we trying to cover up our own sin?  Do we even realize what we are doing?  Does talking about it help?  How do we move beyond talking about it and do something about it?

I hope this post doesn't anger people.  I don't want to be poking people in places that are tender.  What I want is to be able to hang out with my friends of deeper pigment and not feel like I am always saying something offensive.  I know that my general way of life presupposes things that theirs doesn't, which is fundamentally unfair and to my advantage.  I am aware that I need to be humble with folks from other backgrounds and be willing to be uncomfortable myself.  I have to be willing to speak up when I hear ignorant statements being made about people based on their background.  I need to be willing to identify with them when I am given the opportunity.  I need to learn to laugh at myself and my ignorance when others point it out and seek forgiveness when I give offense.  I need to remind my children that they are all equal here in our house.  We don't discriminate by color, or gender, or gpa.  We need to have each other's back and stand by our friends even if it means we get a bloody nose, or worse.  We need to remember that in God's economy the first will be last and the last will be first.  When I let myself marinate in that concept it scares me.  Taking the long view, means rethinking who is in the power  position, and who God favors.  I don't have any answers, I just have a lot of imperfect thoughts.  I think we are a long way from Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream, but I am hopeful that we are closer today than we were even then.  My kids give me hope for that.  They don't seem to factor skin color into much of their thinking, which may get them into some tight spots, but with good hearts.  This is one of those things I wish I could make right, but I hope in things unseen to work out to overthrow that which we see.

Adoption Issues

I've had the opportunity to chat with several people the last couple of weeks about adoption.  They have been random conversations on a variety of aspects of adoption.  I'm still trying to sort out many ideas.

Nesradine had a hard day on the playground on Monday.  I picked him up after school and he had a bruised forehead, a bump on his nose, and two band aids on his knee.  He told me he had had lots of blood at school that day.  I asked him if the secretary had worn gloves when she helped him, and he said yes, he had told her he had HIV.  I know that many, many people are not okay with sharing their HIV status, and as my kids get older I do understand why.  I have had several people tell me that part of the reason that they are not freaked out by HIV is because we are not freaked out by it.  I guess that is one big blessing of living in a small community.  I know it has been unsettling for many people, but they have been very gracious and asked a lot of questions and come to see our kids as kids.  I think it has taught us all that we need to be careful in any situation involving health care precautions.  You can't assume that these kinds of things aren't in our small town, they are here among us, whether we realize it or not.  My kids have been great ambassadors for people living with HIV.  They are very open about it, and willing to educate people when they have questions.  Nesradine has no idea that his status is cause for alarm for many people.  He knows he is not sick, but that he has a virus, and that he can't let anyone touch his blood.  We will fill him in on the rest of the risks when it is appropriate.  So far I have no regrets about being open with their status.  We have had to answer a lot of questions, but they have been great conversations and I hope to have many more of them.

The harder adoption issues are the ones that are more subtle.  One that I struggle with is being a humble mom.  When my daughter struggles with depression, I feel like I am failing her.  I want to fix it.  I want to be the one she trusts and wants to talk to.  I have had to be willing to let her talk with other people who are better equipped to listen and to guide her.  That can be a bitter pill to swallow.  It can be especially tough when I know there are times when I am part of the problem.  A friend pointed out that the margin of error when you are parenting kids from hard places is very narrow.  If I am having a bad day and choose to vent on my child that really can't take it, I am the one adding to the trauma.  I have to be on my A game every.single.day.  This is good for me, and keeps me at Jesus' feet much more often than I would be if I thought I had it all together.  Parenting kids with difficult backgrounds (which all adopted children have) takes abundant grace and humility.  Love is powerful, but a mother's love is not all that these kids need, and we all need the blood of Jesus.

The racial differences are also bigger issues than I would have imagined.  I had read books by people who had been raised in families of a different race.  I knew what the potential pitfalls were.  It is so easy to think that because I don't think I treat other people differently that it won't matter.  If only life were that easy.  I am confronted daily with attitudes I didn't recognize as racially favoring everyone that looks and thinks like me.  Folks, we are all blind when it comes to seeing your own racial bias, if you think you don't think your race is best, you are wrong.  I was talking with Madie last night about whether or not it is okay to have pictures of God, or of Jesus.  We were looking at the second commandment and trying to sort out what it means.  I pointed out that most people draw Jesus to look like he is of their ethnic group.  It is sort of laughable when you see the blond, blue eyed Jesus pictures, how Jewish looking is that?  And yes, it does matter how you picture him in your mind.  That may stumble people of a different ethnic group.  It is very subtle, but very powerful.  I'm trying very hard to stop and think before I give an opinion on how someone looks.  We Schumakers tend to be very loud with our opinions, and I don't want Martha and Nes to feel like they are inferior to the rest of us in any way.  It is one more thing that I can't let slip from the forefront of my mind.  Words are powerful, and my kids are sensitive, I can't just let things fly out of my mouth without thinking about it.

I was talking with someone about this sort of thing and it reminded me of a very helpful blog post that I had read before we brought our kids home.  It was an African American woman writing to all of us white adoptive moms giving us tangible suggestions for exploring out attitudes about African American culture.  She suggested that you spend time with African American friends in their homes, and their neighborhoods.  Watch African American movies, yes, they have their own movies that are not always on our netflix ques.  Subscribe to African American magazines.  Read African American books.  Listen to African American music.  This applies to Chinese, Korean, Russian, or whatever culture you may be adopting from.  The point is to immerse yourself in a culture that isn't the one you live in, but that may be one your children will feel more comfortable in.  Your family culture will have to change to accommodate your new child and their background.  We did spend some time doing this, and it was very enlightening.  It has been very good for my kids to think outside of their comfortable world.  I have had to talk to my girls about criticizing some of the t.v. shows that Martha chooses.  They look at it from a very different perspective than she does.  It has been good for them to talk to her and find out what she likes about them, and to see that she doesn't see the world the same way they do.  She has a unique perspective on our culture that we are too close to see.  I am grateful for the new perspective, but it is a challenge and it is important to us all.  There are things that we European folks take lightly that are a big deal to other cultures, hair is a big deal to African women, don't poo poo it, embrace it.  Language is important to any culture.  Food preferences are important, think comfort food.  Attitudes about exercise, and cleanliness, and what is respectful are different in different cultures, don't assume yours is perfect.

Even the way we interpret the Bible is cultural, which as Americans we REALLY need to stop and think about.  Americans didn't write the Bible, it is set in a different culture.  There are so many times I have heard people dismiss Biblical principles because their culture was different.  God set the word in  that culture in that time for a purpose.  It would do us well to get to know the culture Jesus came from, it matters, those were God's people for a reason.  It is highly arrogant for us to assume our culture is superior and that we can reinterpret the Bible based on our cultural bias.  The problem is that our culture is such a deep part of who we are we don't see that we are reinterpreting the Bible.  I have had to think long and hard about some ideas I have held to and whether or not they make sense in Ethiopia, or Indonesia, or Canada.  What is the gospel really?  What have I inadvertently added or subtracted from it?  This all matters when you have children that are looking at life through a different lens.

In our family these things are obvious.  You don't have to guess which kids are adopted and which kids aren't.  It is easy to think that all of these things don't matter if you get a healthy pink baby to adopt.  Don't kid yourself.  God has a story for each and every one of us.  That baby in your arms has a story, and you are not the author.  You are a character in their story, and you want to be the humble one.  God is the great author.  He uses plot devices in artistic ways beyond our wildest imaginations.  Love him the most.  Love your child, and remember that he or she is God's child as well.  For the glory set before you, you are doing the hard work of being a parent.  Sometimes our biggest failures are God's biggest victories.  He gave his only son to die for us.  The world taunted him, but he won the victory at the cross.  Our victories will often look like crosses to those who don't believe.  Don't shrink back from the hard roads that God might take you on, there will be some awesome views.  Don't grow weary when it looks hopeless, God loves cliffhangers.  Remember he is with you always, and he loves your children even more than you do.  Trust him always.

Today I am thankful for...

Springlike days in the dead of winter

Saying goodbye to faithful saints

Watching my girls draw

Sisters doing each other's hair

Letters from Grandpa encouraging grandchildren to think about their future

Tenacious flowers popping up way too early

Friends who pour out their lives for others, often unnoticed

Watching engaged couples plan their weddings (none of them in my house)

Culture

I had a very interesting talk with a mom of one of Karsten's friends.  She is Korean, and is here for a month visiting her daughter.  I had asked her if she would mind teaching me how to cook Korean food while she is in town.  We were getting a shopping list together so that she can teach me how to make bulgogi on Friday.  I can't wait!  Karsten loves sushi, so we are going to work on that too.  Everyone assures me it is really simple, I have my doubts.

We chatted for a while about homeschooling, missions work, Korean history, boys, the gospel, several really interesting topics.  It has had me thinking about culture and how deeply it is ingrained in our lives.  There are so many things that are cultural norms that we don't recognize.  I know that there are cultural differences that are unsettling for Martha.  I also know she can't articulate what they are.  They are subtle and all around her and they make her uncomfortable.  Things as small as how long you let your eyes linger during a conversation have a deep meaning.  I need to be much more gracious than I have been.  I let my Germanic tendencies run right over her far too often.  I am holding her to standards she doesn't understand, and I can't articulate well.  Being bi-cultural is extremely complex, but I think it will make her a much deeper person in the long run.  She will develop a grace that I will never fully understand, and I envy that in many ways.

Last night she told me she felt like she was failing everything.  I put my arm around her and told her I felt the same way.  I told her that as her mom I felt like her failures were my failures as well.  I feel like I am not giving her enough support.  Then I have the failures of everyone else in the house to own as well.  If kids aren't prepared, who is responsible?  Ultimately it's me.  If dinner sucks, who's fault is that?  When there are no clean towels, who flopped on that?  At the end of the day, if it's not one thing, it's your mother.  I don't think it made her feel completely at ease, but I think she did see that I'm not the mother of the year, and life still goes on.  The sermon on Sunday had been directly aimed at this particular thing, at least I think it was, maybe I missed that whole point too.  The answer was Jesus.  Jesus is enough.  He knows we are failures, that's why he had to come to rescue us.  We are a lot of sorry souls that can't see past our own noses.  He loves us in spite of this, and manages to work miracles in our little lives.  She was skeptical of this answer.  Honestly in the moment so am I.

I have had many a day when I thought that if Jesus was all I needed why didn't he just get down here and change a few of these diapers.  In the thick of that he helped me to see that those smelly diapers were on precious children that he loved very much.  They needed me to help them, and love them, and teach them, and forgive them, and see myself in them.  He has been all that I have needed.  He has calmed my spirit when it was railing against every little bump.  He is the subtle peace just under everything in my life.  He is the culture that I want to keep when everything else is stripped away.  That takes some attention, and a lot of faith.  We are working on it each and every moment.

Today I am thankful for...

Grocery stores stocked with exotic food from all over the world

Pintrest for inspiring me to great beauty and good eating

Kids plugging away at school when the going gets tough

Rick, his faithful breakfast skills and steadying influence on our home

Pastors that preach the truth

Flocks of birds doing aerial maneuvers outside my window

Fireplaces on cold mornings

Ebony

I picked up a copy of Ebony magazine the other day. A woman on one of the adoption groups suggested that we white folks spend some time getting into the black community a bit and see how it feels. Michelle Obama is on the cover, and there was a large spread on getting to know the real Michelle Obama. She sounds like a very intelligent, stylish, down to earth woman. As the article pointed out she sounds, in many ways, like Jacqueline Kennedy. I really enjoyed reading about her.



I enjoyed reading the whole magazine. I was surprised at the faith that was expressed by so many of the people that were interviewed. I don't think you see that kind of faith expressed in predominantly white magazines. I also saw a lot of community building and hope. I saw a lot of things that Christians are trying to do being done there. There was an article on African American families turning to homeschooling. There was a spread on historically black colleges and universities. There was a lot of pride in their history, and encouragement to press on to the future. There was a lot of encouragement to mentor youth, to build their self-esteem and help them commit to education. It was very educational and inspirational. I don't think it surprised me that it was so rich, but it did surprise me that it had so much soul. You don't get that in mainstream magazines.



I am always amazed at how much little N has brought to my life, and he doesn't even know that I am here yet. I am realizing more and more how much I am not what he is expecting, but I am praying that we can learn from each other what true love really looks like.