Consider the Kid

Now, I just can’t help myself but talk about work.

Despite the ridiculously long wait right now, I still get calls from families interested in the program. In some ways, I feel like this is good–the long wait is skimming the cream of the crop off the top of PAPs looking for a quick baby. But that’s not always true. I get some families asking about the program who seem to trick the intake people that they’re cool and with it, and so intake sends them to me. Then, as I’m speaking with the family, their true lame-ness comes to light. This is particularly true with two phone calls I’ve had recently with interested families:

Family #1
My buddy in intake calls to tell me there’s a woman on the phone with some questions about the wait times for the China program as well as some other questions she can’t answer. I agree to take the call. The woman has questions about the long wait. I give her the long memorized party-line about why its lengthening like a Christian muttering the Lord’s prayer. Seeming annoyed with that news, she asks about the program for children with special needs. I explain that program a bit–how long it typically takes, how it differs, and commonly seen special needs. She then inquires further about the special needs; for example, are there any that are really minor, like hidden birth marks? Before I can answer she explains that she has two children at home, both of whom are school-aged and have what would be considered special needs. She continues on by saying how amazing each of her kids are: how smart they are, how well they’re doing in school, blah blah blah–oh, but she doesn’t want another kid with a special need as her two are exceptions to the rule.

What I wanted to do was say something to the effect of “most of the special needs these children have are physical ones, which means they may even outshine your little ‘perfect’ children when it comes to performance at school. And hey, whose to say that an adopted child with no known medical needs will perform at the level you’re already setting it up for? S/he might hate school or be autistic or whatever. You can’t determine all that just because the kid doesn’t have an obvious outwardly special need,” however I wouldn’t be able to formulate all of that fast enough in my enraged state so instead I would simply say “fuck you lady” followed by a fast and hard smash of the phone to the receiver, but unless I also wanted that action to be followed by a firing, I thought I had better handle the situation with more tact.

So, instead, I said “well, you need to choose whatever you’re family is comfortable with parenting.” Saying this always makes me feel like its a cop-out. I feel ashamed when I let this out of my mouth, even though I know its true–if adoption isn’t hard enough of an issue to deal with on its own, placing a child with an issue the adoptive family isn’t comfortable with is an equation for disaster. Furthermore, we all know there are healthy children who would fit this woman’s parameters available for international adoption, so I can’t just turn her away. But, you shouldn’t be able to be so pig-headed about it. I try to find some solcetice in trying to remember that these families aren’t yet in the home study stage, and hopefully the education they must complete and the meetings with their social worker will help them get ahold of the words that come out of their mouth.

Family #2
Once again, the intake staff have a woman on the phone who is interested in the China program and they want me to talk to her about the wait times. After telling intake about the above call, she promises this one isn’t crazy. I take it. The woman begins to tell me how interested her family is in adopting from Vietnam, but know that isn’t an option right now, so they are looking into China instead. I go into robot mode and spout the information about the wait times to her. She is quite monotone as we talk about the program and is a bit scatter-brained with questions. She then asks about the Korea program. I tell her what the approximate wait times are for that program (which are about 50-25% that of China’s wait) and all of a sudden she perks up. Her voice has gone up by an octave as she continues with her barrage of questions: “Can we pick the sex of the child?” I have to physically grit my teeth as I tell her yes, knowing already her excitement level will increase exponentially at the answer. “Wow, well, what do you think we should do?” she asks me. I go into paragraph about how it depends on which culture her family thinks they can incorporate the best, and honor for their child, yadda yadda yadda, to which she responds, “Oh yeah, well I’m Vietnamnese, and I don’t even know that much about my own culture anyway, so any of the Asian cultures would be fine.”

Really, what can you say to that? I tend to get speechless when families baffle me with their words as I’m trying to sort my feelings and emotions into expressible sentences. I had this desire to give her an earful right then and there–telling her how while she may be able to choose whether or not she has knowledge of her culture, her adopted child won’t have this choice. So, unless she were to incorporate this into their family, this child will not know about his/her (likely her) culture and you’ve just become the sole violator who has stripped her of this opportunity. Granted, at least the adoptive parent is Asian, so the child will have that type of role model in her life, but that doesn’t help answer some of those questions about the child’s birth land that will inevitably come up.

I felt the pull to be the friendly staff I am supposed to be while simultaneously wanting to give this woman a humbling lesson. So, as a result, no words of consequence came out of my mouth. Positive affirmation sounds–”uh-huh” and ”mmhmm”–were pretty much the only words I was able to form as she was telling me that she’s made a decision and she just needed to talk all this out. She thanked me and hung up.

For me, these are both prime examples of the dichotomy of roles I am to play at work. On one hand, its being an educated advocate for children, and on the other, its providing customer service for the families with whom we work. They are difficult roles to compromise sometimes, and I wish I had more support from the agency to do so. But, in all honesty, I understand where the agency is coming from with their view on things because an amazingly ethical and educational and selective adoption agency would get no business. It’s better at this point to be in the middle of the road on these issues so you can maintain clientele while also pushing for better adoption practices. Definitely frustrating though.