I'm tired but I gotta do this

Hip hop hooray I got the computer and can now do this from home. But I am tired so I will not write much. I asked my mom for some details about my adoption. I am pondering a story idea about interracial adoption in light of something that was just brought to my attention. Namely, the Oprah episode with Tom Cruise where he pulled that ignorant "there is no such thing as race, Oprah" OHHHHHHHH I can't even get into it now. Too much to say about THAT. But I do want to explore some ideas and so hence the story my mom sent to me. It's special.

"I wanted to get back to you about your questions about our adoption experience. I'll try to answer your questions as best I can. If you need more information, let me know.When Dad and I decided to adopt, it was 1983. We worked through only one agency, Children's Home Society of Minnesota (CHSM). We went through them because they had a very strong reputation and offered comprehensive services both pre and post adoption. The process involved filling out an extensive application and meeting with an adoption social worker several times. The worker came to our home for what was called a home visit. He toured our home, talked with Dad and me and with Gina and Jeffrey. The subsequent sessions with him were considered pre-adoption counseling. Normally, there would have been a pre-adoption counseling group that we would have attended, too, but we were the only ones applying for older kids at that time and they did not want to keep us waiting, so we did the work one-on-one with the social worker. After the sessions were completed, we were in "waiting" mode. We initially had planned to adopt one child who was between the ages of Gina and Jeffrey and then a few years later adopt another who would be the youngest. But as time went on and no child was found, we decided to be open to the possibility of siblings--adopt both kids at the same time.During our "wait", we began attending the monthly support group for parents who had adopted older kids. We listened to their stories and the challenges they were facing. The group was a wonderful source of information and emotional support. Dad and I both attended that group for many months after the adoption. Dad eventually stopped attending, but I continued for about ten years I think. The "wait" was frustrating. We were initially told that things would go fast for us, as we were looking for an African American child. In fact, at the first orientation meeting we attended (it was a general information session for anyone considering adopting--it was a large group of people) we were approached during the break by the director of CHSM who asked us, "What are you looking for?" I think we were the only non-white couple there. He gave us the impression that we were in high demand. From the start, we were wanting older kids, not infants. We were therefore in the Waiting American Child Program (WAC). During our "wait" we were contacted twice about younger bi-racial kids that we turned down. One was a newborn boy. They gave us his picture and it was very difficult to stick to our plan while holding a photo of a baby who could have become ours. It was especially difficult when we knew that, at the time, bi-racial kids were languishing in foster care or being place in white homes because there were no African American families working with the system of adoption (lots on informal adoptions, but not many in the formal system). The second child we turned down was a bi-racial two-year old girl. A black social worker that Dad knew heard we were looking to adopt and he called Dad about this girl. He sent us her photo and information about her. She had been with a white foster family in Bloomington since birth and the social worker was looking for a black or bi-racial home to place her in. The foster family wanted to adopt her. But the social worker felt she should not be adopted by a white couple. That was the only reason he gave for wanting to move her. Both Dad and I did not want any part of such a disruption. While we both felt that it would have been better for her to be placed in a black or bi-racial home, given that she hadn't been and that she was loved and cared for and bonded with the white foster family, we felt it was wrong to disrupt her placement. We couldn't imagine the trauma to that child in having to be moved. So, we said no. I have often wondered what happened to her.After about a year of "waiting", we met with our social worker to ask about siblings. We decided to be open to that possibility, preferring a boy and a girl. One month later, in September 1984, our worker called us and asked if we would be interested in African American twin almost-seven-year-olds who were living in foster care in Ramsey County. We said an enthusiastic, "YES" and went to CHSM to get more information. We were given photos and some written information. And then we worked with the Ramsey County adoption worker to set up a meeting. in the foster home. We were careful to ask the reason that the foster mom was not going to adopt after these kids had been in her home for six years. We didn't want to get involved in another "disrupt the placement because the mom is white" situation. But, we were told that there were parenting issues--the foster mom had had a neglect complaint filed against her by the Head Start teachers of her youngest foster son. That triggered a closer look at the home and it was decided that the adoption of all three kids would be stopped. She had been approved for adoption and was only awaiting subsidy information before finalizing things. The neglect complaint put all that on hold and the decision was made to place all three kids in other adoptive homes. So, we went forward and did home visits and an overnight or two with these two darling children. On November 16, 1984, only two months after first learning about them, you and your brother joined our family forever. And history is still being made..."

and I've had my very own family for more than 20 years. May sound strange to you but it was my first dream come true. Psych! I just got all mushy on you.