It’s easy to get caught up in a “default to irate” mindset when you stand out as a transracial adoptive family: the looks, the comments, the fact that on a crowded playground no one can immediately identify me as my son’s mother, that people insist on asking where my son is really from when I say he was born here, that it’s fair game to run their hands through his hair.
Outstanding I say!
We do stand out but we’re not the only people who face invasive questions. My friend is a tall, lean, angular woman with a long nose, almond eyes, and the olive skin of her Iraqi roots. Her husband, a tall, stockier WASP, managed to send all of his features along to his daughters. The result is a pair of identical twin girls with blond ringlets, large blue eyes and pale skin. Their mother says that people stop, look at her and speak very slowly so she can understand them as they assume she is the nanny. And then comes the “double trouble” comments (guilty as charged!), the “Who is older” remarks, and so it goes.
The other day, I met a woman with three sons and all I could think was “triple trouble!” But I stopped myself and said the equally obvious “Three boys! Wow. You must have your hands full.” I bet no one’s every said that to her before.
Non-caucasians are routinely asked where they are really from. Family and friends frequently ask single women why they are still single given they are such a good catch. Couples with no children are asked when they’re going to have a baby, a question that is annoying to those who don’t want children and exceptionally painful to those that do. Parents with one child are asked when they’ll have another.
None of us is immune from these prying questions, and defaulting to irate only makes me feel worse. The more confident and comfortable I am being part of a conspicuous family, the less likely I am to take offence. So when the two mothers at the beach asked if I had any idea “who this child’s mother was” pointing at Theo, I said. “I am,” and grinned enjoying their befuddled looks.
I’m no saint and suffer from frequent rant attacks when I’m blindsided and rarely offer information unless it fits the context. I can’t control the questions but I can control the way I answer them.
How do you handle invasive questions? Are you a hot-head? Do you swallow it? Do you walk away in a huff? Or are you all Buddha-like?
Over the past five years, I’ve gone from “I’ll respond to anyone’s questions and comments because — OMG! — I am finally a parent!” to “leave me and my family alone with your stupid comments — if I hear one more person ask how much my kids cost, I’m going to scream” to being pretty zen about it all.
When people know better, they do better, and I like to think that if I can respond in a straight-forward but kind way, hopefully that person will interact with the next adoptive family in a more thoughtful way.
Of course, this is getting more difficult because Adam and Leah are now at ages where people are asking them these questions and my mama bear instincts are to swoop in and take over. But you know what? Adam is doing a great job of answering kids’ questions and even responding to adults as best he can, though I’m definitely ready to jump in if necessary. (Leah just smiles and looks adorable which completely sidetracks the conversation — score one point for cuteness!)
Yes that will be out next big hurdle. How to allow Theo the space to respond but not make it a must that he have to respond.
Yeah. It’s hard. I have friends with adopted Chinese girls and Caucasian friends with Chinese husbands and very Asian-looking children, so I don’t tend to assume anything about families in the park. But I’ve said stupid-ass crap to people – everyone has. Even the man in the elevator who asked if I was “counting the days” until my kids went back to school, when we were having a fabulous day and obviously enjoying being together, and told me I would be someday. I try to shake it off – mostly because I can never think of a good burn on the spot. And I am guilty of touching kids’ hair – just a quick stroke, it’s how I show affection or admiration. I’ll rethink that – sorry.
Oh counting the days … that’s something I would totally say without thinking! Doh!
So, different but similar experience:
You once mentioned how great you thought my response about my alcoholism was – I can tell you it was not always thus. It took a long time to get the hang of not being offended at the offer of a drink, not feeling like I needed to explain all about why, not to be touchy about it.
Eighteen years in, I’ve finally got a handle on not embarrassing others or myself with the response. I think it just takes time, and you have to practice a few different ways of answering before you find what fits. And what fits changes over time, too.
As for people asking me when we’re going to have a second child, I’m just now getting to the point where I don’t want to make them feel bad for asking by suggesting they lend me many thousands of dollars for more fertility treatments. So yeah.
That’s good outline of the trajectory of sensitivity. From touchy and offended to offering too big of an explanation to acceptance and simple honesty.
When I was single, I was forever asked the question about why I was single. It hurt a lot because I didn’t want to be single and I didn’t know why I was single either. I would usually joke it off.
When trying to have kids, I was constantly asked when we were having kids. I spent a full lunch hour with a colleague who spent the time telling me why I shouldn’t wait too long to have kids because it gets harder as you get older. This was right after I had a miscarriage. I excused myself to cry in the bathroom. I guess you could say I shy away from confrontations.
I try to be very mindful when I ask questions to people or make comments. But I am sure I have made some dumb comments. One thing, I never ask anyone when they are due unless the baby is crowning.
Yes, that’s a big bad! You really should get on with having children (meanwhile you are but have not had an easy time of it). I’m super mindful around asking people about kids but, of course, because we adopted, a lot of people tell me about their situation without me even asking.
I don’t get many of those questions, given that my kids and I look very WASPish. But I do get twin questions. (My favourite: are they identical?) What I really have to bite my tongue over is the gender assumptions people will make given they’re boy/girl twins. When I’m in a snarky mood, I say, “Well, I’m not convinced that a sample of two is reliable data.” But usually I just contort my face into a fake grin, like someone who’s suppressing a fart.
*snort*!
We do get a lot of “is this all on one bill?” – as in are you guys together or is that guy just standing by you way too close? Any other comments (nothing too silly while I’m there anyway) are met with a calm, cool demeanor. Hubby was asked once – “Where does your son come from?” He snapped, “My wife!”
Generally, I think people mean well and I always try to be nice to curious types even if their questions are mildly inappropriate. Generally I try to be as compassionate as possible. When comments become downright rude, I walk away.
As I’ve mentioned before, my husband is Korean and I am mostly white. Asian genes tend to be strong (Hello, look at Jon + Kate!) and I was fully expecting my son to looking nothing like me. We even attend that adoptees campout each year and I was ready for strangers to assume that he was my adopted child…
Turns out he is an exact 50/50 looks-wise, but he IS a little boy with big curls. Not a day do we leave the house without someone telling me how beautiful my ‘daughter’ is. It does not matter what we dress him in – We even get it from people who we have TOLD he is a boy. The curls are just so glorious that they give people amnesia!
I know that isn’t quite the same thing but it would be easy to get annoyed with the ‘little girl’ comments. I just try to take it as a compliment.
When I was little we used to get comments about how my cousins and I looked alike and how much we looked like my grandma. (My dad and his sister were both adopted. I have actually never met a blood relative outside of my immediate family.
That “Who is that child’s mother?” one is so wonderfully ignorant haha. It could happen to anyone probably but hopefully it’s a wake up call.
great post! when we are out and I notice someone blatantly staring at my daughter (we don’t match) my default now is to make eye contact and smile. My hope is that it sends a message .. I’ve noticed you staring, you need to stop and you can talk to us if you want but enough with the staring. Usually that nips it in the bud. Staring bothers me a little too much because I was raised to think it is very very rude. Adults should know better. This was very refreshing to read because I think sometimes in the adoption world we get a little too worked up about stranger’s curiosity. I agree completely that it’s all about how we teach our kids to handle it with confidence and at the same time respect our child’s privacy. I think probably everyone has a comment or two that they now realize was a “foot in the mouth” mistake and they wish they could take it back. I certainly do!
From parents I have just met I always get asked where the blond hair comes from. And they are blond, blod, almost white blond. Is it from your husband they ask. And then I have to explain that my husband, who is not blond now, was blond as a kid and so was my sister. But I never was.
Sometimes I think the questions are a way of trying to understand but I also think they can be a way of trying to connect. What else is there to do as you sit in the park watching the kids except talk about them.
So true. The kids ARE the entry point into conversation at the playground
!
I tend to answer them with a laugh, since they’ve all been asked innocently enough so far. I hope my laughter conveys the silliness implicit in asking total strangers such invasive questions! (There’ve been exactly zero follow up questions, FWIW.)
Your “triple trouble” comment made me cringe, recalling as it did a conversation I had on the elevator a couple of days ago.
Me: Oh! Broken foot! What did you do?
Neighbor [as I realize what I've just done]: Nothing, just clums–
Me: I’m so sorry I asked that. I hate being forced to answer the same question over and over again by people who don’t really have any need to know the answer!
Neighbor: [laughs]
For the most part, we are still in the “Oh, he’s so cute!” stage of things. It doesn’t go much farther than that. I have definitely taken a cue from you and don’t mention adoption unless pushed to a point where I have to share it. Early on, I was just so excited that I would share everything with anyone who asked a simple question.
One time recently I experienced the hair touching thing in a way that felt less like just being affectionate and more like they were trying to find out the texture of his hair.
In August we went to a restaurant and after we left, Adam told me the table next to us was talking about us and staring at us a lot. He said he caught the mom basically pointing at us using her eyes– directing the teenage daughter to look at us. He waited for her to turn and look and was staring at her when she turned–to make a point. I have no idea what that was all about. But, there are a few options. They could have just been annoyed we brought a baby to a quiet restaurant. It could have just been us. We’re overweight and sometimes people are rude. Adam is 6’6″ and one time at that same restaurant years ago someone came up to him and asked him if he needed a special extra long bed. Of all the things, I doubt it was a transracial adoption issue. But, who knows.
I guess sometimes I wish we would be more invisible in public, but I felt that way long before Jayden. And at least now I get to hear how cute he is.
Great, thoughtful post. I’m usually pretty zen about these comments, and can remember in the moment that everyone deserves a learning curve. Like you, I find it kind of fun to watch people’s responses when they figure out that the four of us (in 4 different colors) are all related.
But people putting their hands in my kids’ hair makes me NUTS (only white people do this). Very un-zen about that.
We were married for quite a long time before we had kids, so I’m very familiar with the “when are you having kids” inquiry. Since we had fertility issues, it was very painful after awhile, and I started to say “we can’t have babies”. I took some comfort in trying to make people squirm. Not mature, possibly, but whatever.
I hope that I haven’t made comments to people in the same vein. I try very hard not too. I am not that talkative to people that I don’t know well – I tend to be quiet, so it’s possible that I’ve managed to avoid the “who’s the mom” thing. Certainly in this city, I’m surprised that you get this so much. Are we not a diverse city? Is it really so surprising that families come in many shapes, sizes, and colours? I find that more surprising than anything.
Love all these hilarious comments.
When we were having our intake interview with my son’s kindergarten teacher last week, she showed us pictures of her ‘family’ — husband, kids, cats, dogs. “This is dogA, he’s four, and this is dogB, she’s eight.”
“Oh!” I said brightly, “are they siblings? (and then almost immediately) Wow. That was a dumb question!”
WTF comes out of our faces sometimes. I just don’t know. But I know that I love the Internet for giving me all these tidbits of information ahead of time, hopefully making those playground conversations a bit smoother.
When I am faced with invasive questions — which isn’t often now that I’m not pregnant and the lady at Safeway who used to tell me I should “try for a girl because boys always leave their mothers” has gone to work somewhere else — I generally default to overly polite and then tweet/blog/yell angrily later.
spent my childhood, up to age 12 being called a boy. even when wearing a dress. it really doesn’t matter who you are or where you are from it seems that people think without speaking.
I too was mistaken for a boy anne, even when wearing school dresses. Sigh.
I tend to try to not say anything..which is probably just as annoying.
I don’t think it is my place to ask.
What i find fascinating is my kids….yes we are a very traditional model of a family…though Pat was asked at Denny’s if “they” were all his….but we are surrounded by every sort of race, mixed race, family type that you could imagine and they are still befuddled when they can’t figure it out by visual identification.
She must be adopted right mom they say….um noooo not necessarily my dear…and then explaining that “colours” CAN mix. GASP!
Trying to not raise racists, but am obviously failing.
Hmmm…I’ve been single for over 8 years and no one ever asks me why. Does that mean they don’t think I’m a ‘good catch’?
No! You just have very good friends who sees the silliness in that question before they ask.
Check out the book Does anybody else look like me? by Donna Jackson Nakazawa. I am only part way through the book but the author writes about how a few different families dealt with these sort of situations. I am ashamed that I have asked these sort of questions as a youngster in the past. Young and ignorant. We too had many dumb questions about when we would start a family. After years of fertility treatments we are now considering adoption. Love this blog.
I’m on the other side of the fence. Coming from a family where my sister is Korean and my brother was (he committed suicide at age 19 many years ago) half black, plus my one biological brother, I feel like questions are the most natural thing. In addition to that, I’ve lived in Africa, Asia and Europe so I feel like the world is a small place and we are all related in one way or another and the best way to connect is through questions.
That said, I have realized only recently that it can be offensive so I try to hold my tongue. Others might take my question as coming from a place of judgement instead of celebrating the differences.
In college I wrote a thesis on adoption, especially adopting at a later age (this is when my brother was still with us – he was very troubled and had been adopted at age 4 as opposed to my sister almost at birth). I learned that adopted children want to hear more about how similar they are to the family than how different they are. So the questions don’t help them, only hinder.
With my name comes repetitive questions too. I’ve gotten used to it, I guess, and when people follow their comments with, “I bet you get that all the time,” sometimes I get snarky and say, “No, you’re the first.” Generally though, I try to be patient because it’s their first time, even if it’s my 10,000th. But to be honest, the conversation I’m never courteous about (even if it happens the most out of all the conversations about my name) is this one:
them: Really? Your name is Princess? Your mother must have really loved you!
me: Actually, no, she left when I was two.
… probably because I’m a little bitter with society’s idea that everybody’s got a mom. *shrugs*
We’re all human, I guess. Inappropriately so sometimes.