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This weekend our little family of three embarked on a four day get-away to Hot Springs, Arkansas, which is nestled in the Ouachita Mountains of Central Arkansas–about a 6 hour drive for us. Our son was remarkably good on the long drive, so much so that we are already discussing our next road trip.
My husband and I have never discussed what our little family must look like to others out in public–until this weekend. For the first time, we were very aware of the gawks and stares that we received as we made our way around town.
The first time we noticed it was walking around downtown, and those looks were actually a positive experience. As we shopped, we heard a lot of “oh look, isn’t he SO cute,” or, “look at that baby, isn’t that nice…”, etc. I think all of these comments were meant to acknowledge that yes, we see your son is adopted, and we think he is beautiful. Or at least that is how I am going to take it. I have been around a lot of kids, and I can tell you these comments were more than the typical, “oh your kid is so cute” comments. This was overboard gushing. But you know, it probably depends on the perspective of the speaker what the intentions should be taken as. For example, it occurred to me that perhaps in that area of Arkansas people don’t see many inter-racial families (our son is Eurasian) and so they saw us and thought our son was cute. I really don’t think it was meant to be anything more political than that. So the shopping comments really weren’t much to speak of, and we actually thought the people who made them were very nice, although it would sometimes be nice to just blend in.
Things took a turn when we took our son to the horse races. Before you scold me for dragging my son to the races, we had promised him the entire road trip we would see the “horsies.” Hot Springs is known for its horse races, and while we aren’t gamblers, we thought our son would get a big kick out of the paddock, and watching the races, and he did. We visited with some people we met outside at the finish line, and got the typical cute comments, really nothing out of the ordinary at all. But when we went inside and took our seats, this woman seated a row in front of us and to our right continued to gawk and stare for thirty minutes. No kidding! She always did it with a smile, but she just stared, even when I made eye contact with her. When her husband came back with beer, she pointed at our son, said something to her husband, and continued to stare. I started to get angry, but again, I thought, I don’t know this woman’s perspective. Maybe she is an adoptive mom herself (in which case she should know better!) or maybe she is childless and is talking to her husband about the fact our son is clearly adopted and a really cute, fun kid (he made friends with everyone in our row). She always had a very big smile on her face despite the weird staring. So again, I decided, motives being unknown, it’s not fair to get mad.
When I did get mad was when we stopped in Fayetteville for lunch. You would think a progressive college town like this would see its share of diversity, and so I am going to again give the benefit of the doubt and claim this is a generation gap issue. So we had lunch, we were walking out, and an elderly couple seated near the door simply stared us down. Pointed and whispered. You would have thought I had a large clown nose on as much as this went on. I have always promised myself when this happens I will not be disrespectful, so we simply kept walking. Our son is so young he wouldn’t have had a clue had I chosen to say something, but I figured why make an issue out of it.
I know we can expect stares for all the years we have ahead of us as a family. I just hope I empower my children to handle these situations with grace as they arise. I suppose some might think my reaction to the events of this weekend was cowardly, but in my mind, it was taking the higher road.
Wanted to comment as a now adult (50) cuban-japanese adoptee raised in Colorado with parents of english and german descent… I grew up relatively unaware of much in the way of racial distinctions, i.e., unaware of my own appearance and how it might affect others.
As a young adult I began to appreciate it. My girl-friend’s family said, “you didn’t tell us he is mexican.” She hadn’t even thought about it… and of course, I’m not.
It has only been as an adult that this has become a conscious part of my thinking… and now that I’ve made contact with my birth mom (japanese) I’m coming to terms with the asian part.
The older folks…ah…you’re just not going to be able to get those stares out of them.
The older they are, the less progressive they are in their thinking.
Most of the elderly people I know have made it clear I should not adopt a black child, however, we are adopting CC or NA (caucasian or Native American) and more than likely Native American, because I am a tribal member of the Cherokee Nation, so it’s harder to find families for them.
All you can do is remember that the stares are a byproduct of old time thinking, and you’ll NEVER be able to teach some old dogs new tricks.
Storm
My husband and I adopted from Kaz and have two beautiful Kazak cuties!Our daughter is 4 and is biracial( eurasian) and our son is 7 and full kazak. He is also deaf! I get some of the dumbest comments and stares. Example: Is he Korean? My answer no he’s mine!Another one Oh she looks just like you! Ha!
Our daughter has the pretty almond eyes, long curly black, brown hair and the prettiest loght olive skin color. My husband and I are of Italian decent, Both very olive, no almond eyes and medium brown hair.
We just call it as we see it and found that breaking the ice is much better than quiet stares.
Before we left KAZ. I was told repeatedly by native Kazakh’s at the baby house and at the medical exam. facility, ” you know she is not full Kazakh. We also heard why do you want to adopt a “defective child”? They actually thought we wanted him for body parts(organ donation)!
It is just a matter of ignorance and it is all over.
My friend’s daughter is biracial
(black and white) and a rude individual made a comment to her and her mother while they were in a Wal Mart store. “Well I guess your daddy is black! The daughter then only 5 yrs old piped up and said my daddy is as white as my mommy and I am peanut butter and I am proud!
Out of the mouth of enlightened children!
So let them stare and if a comment is made or it gets to you, think of a gem and let it fly!
Donna B.