Growing up, I guess you can say I belonged to one of those not-so-normal families. The reason? I was adopted. And the hook? I was a brown-eyed brunette adopted by two blue-eyed, blonde parents who had a blue-eyed, blonde son.
Because my difference was something we couldn't hide, our plan was to handle everything with openness. For example, when making introductions, my mother -- ever the anticipator -- pointed out that I was adopted. I never felt uncomfortable about it and for me (unlike other adoptees I have met) there wasn't any shame. There was a brief period in high school where, like everyone else, I wanted to fit in and was probably a little more self-conscious, but for the most part, I didn't care.
On the upside, I think I embraced my 'different status' which helped me embrace diversity early on. If the color of my eyes and hair didn't matter when it came to family, why should the color of someone's skin? Their culture? Their religion? Now, I belong to another not-so-normal family in that my husband and I are from two different countries, two different cultures and two different races.
The best part is we now embrace our differences together.
The only downside was that in growing up, I thought the term "adopted" was a description for brown-eyed brunettes, much the same way "albino" is used for those with pale skin and light eyes. Soon, I was calling other little boys and girls with similarly dark features adopted. Oh the confusion!
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Growing up, I guess you can say I belonged to one of those not-so-normal families. The reason? I was adopted. And the hook? I was a brown-eyed brunette adopted by two blue-eyed, blonde parents who had a blue-eyed, blonde son.
Because my difference was something we couldn't hide, our plan was to handle everything with openness. For example, when making introductions, my mother -- ever the anticipator -- pointed out that I was adopted. I never felt uncomfortable about it and for me (unlike other adoptees I have met) there wasn't any shame. There was a brief period in high school where, like everyone else, I wanted to fit in and was probably a little more self-conscious, but for the most part, I didn't care.
On the upside, I think I embraced my 'different status' which helped me embrace diversity early on. If the color of my eyes and hair didn't matter when it came to family, why should the color of someone's skin? Their culture? Their religion? Now, I belong to another not-so-normal family in that my husband and I are from two different countries, two different cultures and two different races.
The best part is we now embrace our differences together.
The only downside was that in growing up, I thought the term "adopted" was a description for brown-eyed brunettes, much the same way "albino" is used for those with pale skin and light eyes. Soon, I was calling other little boys and girls with similarly dark features adopted. Oh the confusion!
May 9, 2008 - 2:48pmThis Comment
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