This past week I had to take my daughter to get extensions put in her hair. We're trying to get her natural hair to grow long faster and, according to African American hair experts, extensions is the way to go. I have become pretty proficient at hairstyles for my daughter, but putting in extensions is far beyond my level of expertise.
I found a salon that did a beautiful job with her hair in the middle of September. About a week ago, it became apparent that she needed new extensions put in, so I called and made an appointment for Thursday morning. I found childcare for my 3 busy boys, got up early, dropped the boys off, and got to my 10:00 a.m. appointment...not a small feat. I arrived at the salon and found our stylist weaving another girl's hair. Needless to say, I was a upset. How could you make an appointment with someone and forget to write it in your book?
After a few minutes, we came to an agreement that I would come back in 2 hours and her hair would get done. I left to hang out with my boys for a little bit and came back. From the moment I walked in the door, the tension was THICK. When they started on my daughter's hair, the would not allow me to sit in the room with her. I stepped out of the room, calmed down, and returned to explain to them that I never leave my daughter alone with strangers. The stylist and her boss reacted strongly, thinking I meant that I believed they would harm her in some way. That is not what I was saying, but that's what they thought.
So, we got it worked out that I could sit in the door way (I'm not sure how this was better then putting a chair up against the wall in the salon room) and people had to step over me to get in and out. From that point on, they gave me the silent treatment, got 2 stylists working on Abby's hair, and got me out of there as fast as they could without another word.
While I was there, a father dropped off his daughter, who was younger than mine, and left her there alone to get a style put in that would probably take a few hours. I don't understand how you can leave a small child alone in that situation. I can't imagine not being there for Abby when she was afraid of the hair dryer, or not being there for her to tell me she had to use the bathroom.
I have decided that what I experienced was a cultural difference that I am going to face whenever I take my children into the African American culture to have their needs met and learn about their roots. Though I'm willing to learn how they approach different situations, I'm not sure the feeling is mutual in some circles we encounter and I believe that I experienced an unwillingness to understand my culture and my parenting decisions about what is best for my child.
Oh, bummer. I can definitely see both sides here, but so sad that you all had to go through that. On the other hand, when I've found that, for the most part, our adopted kids serve as a bridge that give people the opportunity to really be their best. I've been just awestruck more than once at how the Korean-American community has welcomed Mikey; everything from exclamations of "he's my brother!" to attempts to teach him the entire Korean language in a ten minute conversation. Korean culture being what it is though, I sure do hear about it every time I stop at the Korean grocer without boy-mine in tow.
ReplyDeleteHang in there; you're not the only one.
I should have figured after the first time I was there and the stylist told me about her friend who was adopted by white people. The stylist said she just could not believe that her friend had no interest in finding her biological family and knowing her true history. I found the whole situation very sad. The good news is, I met a lovely lady while I was out who has connected me with a new stylist who we're going to try, who is even closer to my house! We'll see what God has in store as I continue on the journey to help my daughter have long, beautiful, healthy hair as an adult.
ReplyDeleteYou're such a good mom.
ReplyDeleteI think part of being a multi-racial/ethnic family is that we deal with race differently. Most of the time our kids are outsiders in our household, not family outsiders of course, but racially. Sometimes, though hopefully not pathologically, they're going to feel that. And if we do things right, we try to raise them to be insiders as much as possible to their birth culture. That turns the tables, it makes us outsiders.
Took our guys out for Korean for dinner tonight, and had the opposite but same experience. We've been overwhelmed at how open and warm the Korean community has been toward us. But speaking with the waitress at the restaurant, every Korean word I know comes out as a question. "Mashissoyo?" No, I'm telling her the food was delicious, not asking. But I'm not sure I'm using the right word, saying it the right way. Mikey likewise is intensely shy about his Korean words, and I've almost never heard him say more than "omma" (his foster mother) in Korean, even when I'm sure he understands. He's an outsider for now, too. Hopefully he won't always be.
Everything in adoption is bittersweet. I know some people never search for their birth parents because they feel fulfilled, others afraid. I hope Mikey will search, I hope he'll be able to honor his Korean mother someday. That's no slight to me, for sure. His birthmother's role doesn't diminish mine.
I don't know... I guess the beauty of it is that we have our hearts in two worlds. We don't just adopt these kids, we adopt a people. Kind of like how Ruth said to Naomi, your people will be my people.
Oh, I totally agree! I am definitely an advocate for my children finding their birth families. I think it is so important. I am very thankful for my friend, Hazel, who treats me as an insider.
ReplyDelete