The Crab Chronicles

Rescuing the Children

I try to avoid political discussions on here and I do not intend for this blog to focus on politics, but I have something to say about JD Vance. I didn't really know who he was until recently. Then he started being mentioned as a possible VP contender and I decided to do some research.

This interview he did 7 years ago with Megan Kelly [LINK] is where I started. She begins the interview in a powerful way, going through a list of adverse childhood consequences that some kids suffer -- being hit, living with alcoholic or drug-addicted parents, being sworn at or humiliated by your parents- and he answers "yep" to every one of the things Megan mentions.

I know a little something about that.

Both of my children are adopted. Both were born to alcoholic mothers, and they lived with their mothers the first 6 years [my daughter] or 8 years [my son] of their lives. Both my kids have struggled with low self-esteem, anxiety, Depression, sleep issues, social awkwardness, stunted growth, and more. 

In 2004 when I adopted my daughter I tried to do as much research as possible into older kids in Russian orphanages. She was 12 then. She had been in the orphanage 6 years. I found out that when the kids aged out of the orphanages they were often denied housing and jobs because of the stigma of being in an orphanage. I learned they often turned to crime, and often had babies who then ended up in an orphanage, and worst of all -- they often didn't make it. One study I read said that most orphans never lived past 30 because they were either killed (a consequence of a criminal life) or they committed suicide.

Now, JD Vance didn't go to an orphanage. His story is similar, though. He was taken away from his drug-addicted mother and sent to live with her parents, his grandparents, and they provided him with love and stability. How lucky for him.

I see so many parallels with his story and the stories of my kids.

I adopted my daughter and brought her home when she was 13 years old. Many people told me I was crazy to adopt her, because she wouldn't do well in a family. Truthfully, we had some issues. I won't lie. However, I do not regret adopting her. Not at all.

My son came from a similar background, but he had spent 8 years with his birthmom and only 2 years in the orphanage. His right hand was amputated due to frostbite, after he was beaten unconscious by some boys when he was 5 years old. His much older brother committed suicide and that was even more traumatic because Michael adored his brother.

Children who are raised in homes that are unstable, who are neglected or abused, etc. -- they suffer because trauma actually changes their brains. This is a fact. They cannot be blamed for what happened to them, but they will live with the consequences for the rest of their lives. I adopted my children in hopes that by loving them and giving them a stable family life that they would have a chance at normal, successful lives. Both of my children are grown now, and both are doing well, but they have struggled with substance abuse issues in the past. They have had a lot to overcome, but none of it was their fault.

I love my kids and I am proud of them. They are not in jail. They aren't in mental institutions. They have stability, and love. In my book, those are wins.

JD Vance's journey began with terrible instability and trauma, but his beloved Mamaw instilled in him the idea that he must make good grades and work hard to make something of himself. She loved him and believed in him, and that love pulled him through. The military also helped him focus, and gave him a way to get a college degree, and then he could attend Yale law school. He also married a loving and supportive partner, also an attorney. So there were many blessings in his life but he also had to work very hard.

My son is a loving and kind man who works hard and has a natural kindness and magnetism.I hope and pray one day my son will find a loving and supportive partner.

JD Vance is shining a light on the plight of kids raised in unstable homes by drug-addicted parents, and his memoir Hillbilly Elegy shows how he made it out of poverty and made something of himself. I applaud him. He is the proof of how a loving parent [or grandparent] can transform a child. JD Vance could easily have ended up in a life of drugs, a life of crime, working some unfulfilling tedious job and struggling. Instead, he is a senator and he may one day be our Vice President, or even our President.

JD's life gives me hope -- not just for my kids, but for all kids in similarly sad childhoods, who are worth rescuing, and who can be transformed.

The Right to Know Who We Are

I have never wondered about my parentage. Every time I see a photo of myself I am reminded of the fact that I am the "spitting image" of my dad, what he would look like in female form, basically. According to 23andMe my mother and I are connected by 49.84% of our DNA.

When you get the testing done by Ancestry or 23andMe it includes a list of people who share your DNA. Increasingly, more and more people get tested, and many of them learn their parent who raised them had no biological connection to them. As you can imagine, that type of information shatters one's identity.

My friend Rob grew up and lived most of his life secure in the knowledge that he was his father's son. They shared the same name - Rob is a "Jr." However, when Rob did the DNA testing through Ancestry half of his relatives -- the ones on his father's side -- were missing. He wrote about that very upsetting event here. Rob was Donor Conceived.

Many people (millions) are learning, through Ancestry and 23andMe testing, that they are part of the DC (Donor Conceived) community, and the NPE (Non Parent Expected) community.

According to a survey done by the Pew Research Center in 2019: "About one-in-seven U.S. adults (15%) say they have ever used a mail-in DNA testing service from a company such as AncestryDNA or 23andMe, according to a new Pew Research Center survey... Roughly a quarter (27%) of those who say they have used mail-in DNA testing say they learned about close relatives they didn’t know about previously."

So how many people are now going through the painful process of finding out they have a previously unknown parent, like my friend Rob? Today, there are 341,567,135 people in the USA. If 15% have had the genetic testing done (that was the percentage in 2019) that's 51 million people. About 5% of those people will find out they are part of the NPE community.

That has led to a lot of people finding out that half of their medical history is missing. Millions of people are out there wondering about their parentage and their medical histories. My friend Rob was lucky, because one of his half siblings passed along the medical history of his biological father. Oftentimes, people who owe their existence to artificial insemination are not so lucky.

 

I was inspired to write this blog when I read this article this other day: AncestryDNA, 23andMe introduce you to new relatives. Now the nightmare: They won't offer medical history.

I am the parent of two adopted children, adopted from overseas, and my children have no idea about their medical history. They don't even know the names of their biological fathers. So we don't know if they have the genetic markers for cancer, Huntington's Disease, Parkinsons, or any other disease or medical condition. 

Knowing your medical history is very important. The right to know one's medical history can mean the difference between life and death.There are diseases which, if detected early, can be cured or at least managed. But if you don't know your history you don't even know if you have the genetic markers, and should be tested for them.

I have been a litigation paralegal since 1985 and I have seen a lot of frivolous litigation but there is one case I would love to see go to the Supreme Court. Imagine a man who finds out his father was a guy his mother had a brief affair with, and he wants to know the medical history of his biological father. He gets the genetic testing done and finds out the identity of the man. He asks the bio dad for a medical history. The bio dad, who is ashamed of his son born out of wedlock, refuses to hand over any medical history information. The son sues him. Bio dad continues to refuse to disclose anything. The case could make its way through lower courts and wind up making new law in the Supreme Court.

"A medical history is important, and no reasonable person will deny that. It can save someone's life," according to my friend Jack, a retired lawyer. I regret that Jack is long retired and can't take on a case. He gave me some valuable insights in a phone call recently.

One aspect of this is whether or not the right of privacy would outweigh the right to know. That would be important for the court to consider.

If you aren't familiar with how lawsuits work, here's the 411. It usually takes years to get a case through lower courts, to the level where it's going to be heard in the United States Supreme Court. When you take a case to the Supreme Court they decide whether or not to grant cert (hear the case) based on a number of factors. At the circuit court level there has to be disagreement about the law, for example.

I feel strongly that every person has the right to know who their biological parents are, and their medical history.

I would love to see an attorney take on this kind of case in real life, working for a real client, and take the case to the Supreme Court. I want the United States Supreme Court to make new law that says YES, we ALL have a right to know our medical history. That ruling would change lives. It would likely save lives. It would not be about money. It would be about JUSTICE.

Call me old-fashioned or naive. I don't care. I will always think justice is important.

#DNAtestingoutcomes, #medicalhistoryforthenpecommunity, #testcaseonmedicalhistory

Dancing in the Wreckage and Adoption

When I started this blog in 2005 it was a way for me to update friends and relatives about how my daughter was doing post-adoption, and how I was coping. Nobody in my circle of friends and family had ever adopted a 13 year old girl from Russia who spoke almost no English. She was nearly as tall as me. To say it was a huge challenge would be a massive understatement.

Blogging every day was like journaling every day. It helped me cope. I blogged daily for years.

In recent years, since both my kids are now grown and have their own lives I have stopped blogging about them.

However, as a friend pointed out to me not long ago, my novel Dancing in the Wreckage, while not ostensibly a novel centering around adoption, actually has a main storyline from the point of view of an adopted guy. One of the main characters, Zak, is adopted as an infant but not told he is adopted until his 18th birthday, which rocks him, and sends him into a personal tailspin for several years.

Also at the heart of this book, it's about motherhood.

One of the main characters was abandoned as an infant and grew up in an orphanage. Another character was the result of an accidental teen pregnancy but kept in the birth family and raised with great love, albeit not a lot of money.

Another main character was conceived outside of a marriage and never told the true identity of his father until after he was grown.

I have never been faced with an unintended pregnancy but I've had friends who went through that and had to make really tough choices. It's never an easy situation, whether you are married or single. Women have always had to pay a high price for loving someone outside of marriage, and oftentimes their children pay a high price also. Until recently, shame played a big part in separating mothers and children. Shame is toxic.

Back to adoption. There are lot of ways to be a parent without giving birth, and those are valid choices too.

In the book, Amy is raised without a father but in a household with her very loving aunt who is as much a parent to her as her mother. She also gets parented by her grandmother, who also lives with them.

Carson [another main character] is raised in a loving family with plenty of money but he has issues. His nanny mothers him more than his mother.

I never set out to write a book about motherhood or adoption but those themes found their way into my quirky little book, probably because they are at the heart of my own life and I understand so well that even seemingly "normal"/traditional families can be very flawed and very unconventional homes can be very healthy and nurturing. There is no "one size fits all" when it comes to parenting.

Full disclosure: I was raised in a very traditional home, with a stay at home mom and a banker dad who worked hard. We lived in the suburbs. We were very middle class. (We still had issues.)

My mother had to get a hysterectomy when I was five years old and my parents were pretty open about the consequences. They said they would not be able to have more children. I begged them to adopt a little sister for me. I cried. I threw a tantrum. Mom and Dad said no, two children were enough. I'm sure many years later when I was 40 years old and hadn't found a husband or become a mom yet that heavily influenced my decision to adopt.

I also talk in this novel about the beauty of friends who accept you for who you are. Amy has a lot of fear around intimate relationships and eventually gives up looking for Mr. Right. She gets a lot of love and support from friends who are gay and bi. I have dear friends and family members I love who are gay. They  have been there for me in my toughest times, and I like to think that by writing about them I am honoring them in some small way. It's my way of promoting love and acceptance of all kinds of love. 

I have had friends who are very conservative read this book and they've enjoyed it. A friend of my parents who is nearly 90 years old read this book recently and called me to tell me how much he loved it. He has no connection to adoption or unwed motherhood. He hasn't done DNA testing and learned anything unusual. That made me feel really good, knowing he liked the book, because I love the idea of writing as being instructive but also entertaining.

If you like quirky books about unusual families, books set in the South, books with adoption themes, etc. check out my book Dancing in the Wreckage. It's also just a plain old good read, with a lot of funny moments...

#booksaboutadoption, #booksaboutmothers, #humoraboutmothers, #bookswithLBGTQcharacters, #booksaboutdnatestresults, #adoptionbooks, #booksaboutunwedmotherhood, #humorousbookssetinthesouth, #novelsaboutadoption, #adoptionasathemeinanovel, #bookssetinatlanta, #quirkyfamilybooks

My Wonderful Son

When I adopted my son in 2007, almost exactly 17 years ago, many people told me he was a lucky little boy. They were wrong. I was the lucky one, and still am. We have had a lot of ups and downs over the years. His wild teenage years, the party years, lasted well into his 20's, but those are over. He is healthy and happy now. I wouldn't trade him for all the tea in China (quoting my mama).

Some people told me around 2006-07 that I was crazy to adopt a ten year old boy missing his right hand. I already had an adopted daughter, they said, and I should just stop there. They were wrong. 

Michael Thompson is brilliant, hilariously funny, and a true original. He draws people to him because of the incredible light from his beautiful heart.

He will be 28 years old this summer. He is still figuring out his life. He may or may not return to college. He may or may not stick with the cooking. He will figure it out, in his own time.

In case you were wondering, no, his missing hand isn't really a handicap. It barely slows him down. He does more with one hand [climbs mountains, is a professional cook, lifts weights, plays baseball] than many people do with two hands. He earned his lifeguard certification years ago. He has worked as a chef in a high-end restaurant on a busy Saturday night and given stellar service even after ten hours on his feet. He helped me take care of his grandmother for years, without complaint, and their relationship was a mutual adoration that was truly beautiful.

I couldn't love him more or be prouder if he had come from my body. The fact he didn't makes no difference to me whatsoever. When people ask me what I am most proud of in my life I don't say being a paralegal, or being a caretaker for my mother, or writing and publishing a dozen books. I say one word: Michael. (I take no credit for his beautiful heart, just for having the good sense to adopt him.)

below, the first photo of him I ever saw, made when he was 8, in the orphanage and below right, me visiting him in the orphanage in 2007

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#adoptionhandicappedchild, #adoptolderchildren, #limbdifferencekids, #chooseadoption, #adoptionisthebestchoice

Hit DELETE on the Shame Button

I'm working on a new book [more will be revealed in the near future] and I've been thinking a lot lately about the toxic repercussions of shame. It's kind of an old-fashioned word that you don't hear much any more, but I wish it would disappear. 

Unfortunately, though, shame and its aftereffects are with us still, and they don't serve anyone well. (My friend Rob Wilson wrote a great column about it for Psychology Today and you can read it here.)

When I was a kid, shame was alive and well. I knew that sometimes my dad was ashamed that he grew up poor, and he pushed himself to his physical and emotional limits to provide a nice home for his family. I knew that my mom was sometimes ashamed of being chubby, and she put a lot of pressure on herself to lose weight. (I have felt that exact same shame for most of my life.)

I can remember as a kid hearing from my parents and teachers, "You should be ashamed of yourself!" [usually not directed at me, thank goodness].

The roots of shaming someone go back to the bible.

In Genesis, 3:10, we see Adam's shame after eating the apple: “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid myself.”

We are taught as Christians that the only real way to get beyond shame is to accept Jesus and live a Godly life. I don't want to get into a theological discussion, but I am not sure that will really wipe out shame. I think the lingering effects of shame are very difficult to counteract.

When I was a child it was considered very shameful to have a child outside of wedlock. There were homes all over America for young pregnant girls to enter and give birth, then they were told to relinquish their babies for adoption and pretend they never got pregnant. Most adoptions were closed. It wasn't really the best solution, in most cases, because most of the young girls spent years feeling shame and regret and longing to know something of the children they had given up. Oftentimes the adopted children were prevented from finding their birth parents because of the toxic legacy of shame. Many adopted children, even though raised well in loving homes, felt as adults they should feel ashamed of how they came to exist.

I've watched a show many times called Long Lost Family, and it's mostly about adopted children and birthmoms trying to find each other. I always grab a box of kleenex before watching an episode because they always make me cry. God Bless the show, though, for trying to bring people together, and heal everyone.

I've often felt ashamed of the fact that I am not as pretty as my mother, or as smart as either of my parents. I've felt ashamed of being fat. I've felt ashamed that I couldn't give my children a father, or even  a stable father figure. Recently, I've done a lot of looking back over my life and trying to see patterns and behaviors and ways I could have done things differently. I'm not sure it has been good for me to do that... I've found a lot of comfort and healing in watching the Ted Talks [on YouTube] of Brene Brown. She is an academic who has studied shame and vulnerability for years and her insights are powerful. I leave you with some of her wise words:

"Shame derives its power from being unspeakable."

"If we're going to find our way back to each other [men and women] we have to understand and know empathy, because empathy's the antidote to shame. If you put shame in a petri dish, it needs three things to grow exponentially: secrecy, silence, and judgment. If you put the same amount of shame in a petri dish and douse it with empathy, it can't survive."

"When we find the courage to share our experiences and the compassion to hear others tell their stories, we force shame out of hiding, and end the silence."

 

Check out my latest book: Talking Back: Stories from the Big Hair and Pantyhose Years.

To Sleep Beneath the Sky

Today is not a typical day for us. My son went camping today. He is 26. He is a fully grown man, not a child. Yet, I was reminded of the first time he ever went camping, and all the feelings I had that day.

A little background. I adopted Michael when he was ten years old, from Kazakhstan. I already had adopted a little girl from Russia, and she needed a sibling, so I searched and searched on adoption agency websites until I found this little guy:

I wanted a special needs child. Michael is an amputee. His right hand was amputated when he was 5 years old, due to frostbite. His early life was filled with abuse, neglect, and violence. He was sent to the orphanage at age 8. The ladies there got to know what a smart, funny, kind little guy he was [and still is] and decided to help him find an American family. They knew in Kazakhstan he would have little chance at a normal life because no employer would hire him. So they reached out to an adoption agency and he was listed as adoptable and I saw the photo at left and knew he was my son.

When I went to Kazakhstan to meet him I had a unique advantage. A nonprofit, the Antares Foundation, worked in the area and I got to know two of the ladies who head up that organization and they got photos and information to me before I traveled.

Once I got to Kazakhstan and met him, I knew my instincts were right, and this little guy was my son. He is very smart. He is very loving. He was a leader among the kids. He had friends there. The caretakers truly cared about him. When I got him home in May of 2007 he cried several times, missing his friends. I couldn't do anything to comfort him, but he adjusted quickly. It helped that his older sister still spoke Russian and was able to translate for him.

I naively assumed there would be many things he couldn't do because he is an amputee. I was wrong. Over and over, he proved to me that having one hand was only an inconvenience, not a disability. He played soccer, tennis, and baseball. He loved games of all kinds, and sports. He was making jokes in English before he had been here six months.

In 2008, I was able to get him a prosthetic and we got to know the wonderful people in the Limb Difference Clinic at Children's Hospital. His physical therapist told him about the wonderful Adventure Amputee Camp that happens every summer. I registered Michael for camp and he was pleased about it. Kids with limb differences of all kinds get to have the same camp experience as non-disabled kids, and it's a wonderful place staffed by physical therapists, occupational therapists, and prosthetists -- in other words, adults not freaked out by being around a child missing a limb. The kids get to do all kinds of things, from hiking, water skiing, whitewater rafting, horseback riding, etc. I was sure Michael would have a blast.

The day came for him to go to camp. I woke him up and got his bag packed and we drove over to the hospital parking lot. There was a really nice bus, a top-of-the-line luxurious bus, not some crappy old school bus. We got out of the car and he saw Miss Colleen, his beloved Occupational Therapist. He saw the other kids. He decided he was NOT going to camp and I wasn't going to make him! He was showing me that he had bonded with me and the separation anxiety was getting the better of him. Now, that was very atypical behavior. We had very few discipline issues with him. He was a happy little guy, most of the time. I realized though that this wasn't about anything but separation anxiety. I sternly told him that he WAS going to camp. He WAS going to get on the bus. Period. No arguing. I was bigger and stronger and he knew I wasn't kidding.

Of course, he stomped on the bus, madder than dammit, and I got in the car and cried, wondering if I had made a huge mistake. I actually called Colleen later and she said "Dee he is FINE. He's made new friends. He's having a great time! Don't worry!" [below, Michael with Colleen and Brian, at Children's]

That did my heart good!

Five days after putting him on the bus to camp I was back in the hospital parking lot, anxiously watching for the bus, and when it got there I wondered if he would still be mad at me.

Nope.

Michael was the first one off the bus. Huge smile on his face. He was waving around a tennis racquet he had won in the camp tennis tournament. He had never shown any interest in tennis before but it became a game he loved to play and he was quite good at it, even playing on winning ALTA teams in his teenage years.

He gave me a big hug and was bubbling over with excitement about his time in camp. His biggest joy was in being around other limb difference kids, and feeling like a regular kid, for once in his life. He went back every summer for several years, and always had fun.

His teenage years and the early 20's were very difficult for us both, to be honest. He had no interest in school and got into some trouble, due to substance abuse issues. He is now fully sober and working hard to live a healthy, authentic life. Most importantly, he is able to face adult challenges with courage and grace.

This weekend the Catalyst Sports group is in Alabama, for an outdoor climbing/camping weekend. It's a terrific group that helps disabled kids and adults participate in sports they normally wouldn't be able to do like climbing and kayaking. Michael loves climbing and he has climbed Stone Mountain countless times, but this will be his first real climbing adventure involving climbing as a sport. He has been going indoor climbing weekly for months, and really enjoys the challenge. 

As I watched him put his gear in his backpack, and we joked about his "road trip," I was reminded of that scared little 11 year old guy who didn't want to get on the bus. Now he is a fit, healthy, confident 26 year old man who is a delight. He is not disabled. He works as a cook in an upscale local restaurant. I wrote about him recently and you can read that and see video of him here.

left, me and Michael in Kazakhstan in 2007

 

right, Michael today

Dancing in the Wreckage

I am proud to introduce my newest book to the world: Dancing in the Wreckage. Here's what it's about, in a nutshell: When wealthy attorney Carson Strickland dies in a plane crash he leaves everything to a son nobody knows about, and his law partner’s search for the heir uncovers secrets buried for years.

Dancing in the Wreckage defies easy categorization. It's a mystery, a romance, a coming-of-age story, a family saga, and a quirky character-driven story. One of the main characters is dead, and yet his story provides a lot of humor.

I had a lot of fun writing it. It's very different from my other books.

A few years ago after helping my third cousin Roy discover his connection to me through my maternal great-grandmother I started thinking about unexpected family connections. Many people do the testing offered by Ancestry, 23andMe, and other sites, and learn really startling things about their families. Sometimes they are adopted, like Roy, and know nothing about their birth families. Other times they learn their father was not their biological parent. I know 23andMe has counselors trained to help people in the “NPE” (non-parent expected) category.

This book was inspired by a real-life situation I found myself in during the summer of 2022, when I looked at my list of DNA relatives on 23andMe and decided to proactively try to help one of my second cousins figure out our connection. I had been on 23andMe for years and always noticed various people whose names were not familiar, and I just knew there were fascinating stories back there. I called one of my other cousins and together we figured out how this lady was related. Turns out she was his half sister!She was welcomed into our family with great enthusiasm.

I was fascinated by the notion of growing up thinking your father was one person and then finding out years later that your biological father was someone you never met. I started writing. Rarely am I so inspired by real events!

That said, Dancing in the Wreckage is purely fictional.

Not only is it the story of an attorney named Carson Strickland, it's the story of Zak and Amy -- two individuals who are connected to Carson and yet unknown to each other for years -- who meet and recount their life stories, trying to understand their connections to him. Amy grew up fearful and puzzled by men, as there were only females in her home. When she gets old enough to date, disaster ensues. Eventually she realizes she can only find peace alone. Zak’s story is very different. He grew up in a conventional family. At age 18, Zak learned a family secret that rocked him, and he embarked on a life of aimless addiction and partying for a while. Eventually he fell in love and decided to join the family barbeque business. When Zak and Amy finally finish sharing their complicated life stories, they realize they love each other -- and more importantly, that the truth about Carson can actually generate healing and closure, instead of pain.

I realized as I was writing that the book depicts so many sides of the adoption triangle, most obviously in the way Zak’s life and Amy’s lives differ. I have two adopted children, now grown, and so adoption issues are particularly fascinating to me. What most people don’t really know is that when a mother places a child for adoption, although it’s a very selfless act, it’s also undoubtedly traumatic to both mother and child, a primal wound. It must be acknowledged for there to be any real healing.

I wanted to depict many different scenarios – adoption, abortion, keeping a child, placing a child, a child growing up in an orphanage. I also wanted to show different family situations -- single-parent homes, two parent homes, etc. -- and the pros and cons of each.

Having said that, Dancing in the Wreckage is NOT a message book. There is a lot of humor in it.

I am delighted to share that it's also set partly in Tucker, Georgia, my adopted hometown. I moved to this area almost 30 years ago and Tucker is the best-kept secret in the Atlanta metro area -- a friendly small town an easy drive to the bustling metropolis of Atlanta. The photo on the cover is downtown Tucker.

I seem to find myself always writing about Atlanta, Augusta, and Knoxville, but I make no apologies. They are all great cities and I have been blessed to live in each one. I also write about attorneys a lot, and paralegals, and I know those professions very well. 

I hope you will order a copy of Dancing in the Wreckage and that you'll enjoy reading it. Pass along the link to all your friends who love to read!

 

 

Never Give Up

Many years ago, after I adopted my daughter from Russia in 2004, I knew I wanted to adopt another Russian-speaking child. She needed a sibling. I wanted to give a child with some sort of special need a home. I pored over photos on websites of adoption agencies looking for a child. I wanted to adopt them all, and it made choosing so difficult. Finally, I just asked God to send me a sign. The next photo I saw was a scowling little boy who happened to have been born the same month my father died. I took that as a sign.

In 2007, my son finally came home, to a granny, sister, and mama who were absolutely thrilled to see him.

He is now 26 years old, and after some challenges, he is in a really good place in his life.

He is working as a cook in a very nice restaurant here in Atlanta, Kindred. He loves his job and the people there. It's a very busy place but he works hard and they have a lot of happy customers.

I interviewed Michael the other day and you can see that here: The Cook W ith the Mighty Left Arm. Michael was a bit reluctant to do the interview but I pointed out that a lot of people don't realize that having one hand is no big deal.

The article includes a video and you can see Michael preparing shrimp and grits, a popular dish at the restaurant.

Never let a disability define you.

 

#amputeeawareness, #amputeeemployment, #disabilityawareness,

McMillans and Hastys in North Georgia

In recent years I have altered my blog a bit, focusing more on general topics and less on my family, since my kids are now grown and gone. This is not merely a "mommy blog" but an ongoing way for me to get some writing practice and essay practice. However, today I wanted to swing it back around to the personal, so I hope if you're not related to me by blood or marriage you won't be offended.

Around 2013, I saw a program on PBS called Finding Your Roots, with Henry Louis Gates. It's fascinating to me how Dr. Gates helps famous people trace their ancestry back. The show uses the traditional [hunting through census records and deed records, etc. at the courthouse] and more modern methods -- DNA testing. He talked about 23andMe. I had never heard of that company. I decided to buy a test kit for my son, because we have no information on his birth family. My mom wanted me to get tested, too, so I did.

Not surprisingly, I am 63% British and Irish, 19.7% French and German, and 3.2% Scandinavian. My adopted son is 89% Eastern European, 5% Greek and Balkan, and a smattering of other ethnicities. Because my son was born in Kazakhstan, we have not been able to find any close relatives.

I have located a veritable treasure trove of relatives, however, on both sides of my family. There is a category on 23andMe called DNA Relatives. You can see everyone on 23andMe who is related to you. Now, if you don't want to be identified you can just use initials and not supply any information about yourself -- it's all optional. You don't have to share anything with anyone else. However, when you see a list of folks and how they are related to you, you can contact them.

I have located relatives who are white and African American and Asian. I now have Jewish relatives. I have relatives all over the USA. The more the merrier!

Months ago, I got in touch with a "Second to Third Cousin" named Roy, who lives in Virginia, and thus began a fascinating journey. As a writer, I am always very curious about people's stories, and Roy's story is intriguing to me personally, professionally, and as an adoptive mom. He was adopted as an infant but not told he was adopted. As a teen, he found out by accident. His adoptive parents didn't tell him anything about his birth parents, though. He got a limited amount of information from the agency, but not the names of his biological parents.

Months ago I had a terrific conversation with Roy by phone, and promised to try and help. I wasn't able to get it done, despite my best research efforts. I should explain that by looking at Roy's profile on 23andMe and clicking on Relatives in Common I was able to see he is connected to me on my mom's side of the family. I couldn't figure out how exactly, though. My Hasty great grandparents had a ton of kids. [see below, the family around 1914]

However, a lady named Barbara in North Carolina got a 23andMe test kit from her daughters this past Christmas, and did it. She is Roy's biological aunt. She has several siblings and so she and Roy have narrowed it down to one of her brothers probably being his father, but unfortunately the man has passed away. Roy is still searching for his birthmom's family, and hoping she is alive, of course. I understand and sympathize with Roy's desire to know his birth family. Everyone deserves to know that basic information.

I friended Barbara on Facebook and we were quickly able to figure out our connection. It isn't through the Hastys, but it is through the McMillans.[I have written about the Hastys and McMillans before, here.]

My great-grandfather William Dozier Hasty married Martha Virginia ["Ginnie] McMillan. [See below right]

The Hasty family has been in the Canton Georgia area for a long time. So has the McMillan family. Both families are highly respected in the area. Grandpa Hasty donated land to build a school and it still stands, in Canton Georgia.

Below is a listing of the children of Wilson Lumpkin McMillan and Mary Mansfield Brown [source]:

Wilson Lumpkin McMillan -- my great great grandfather

1833-1880

Marriage: 1853

Fulton County, Georgia

He was born when a man named Wilson Lumpkin was the governor of Georgia, and undoubtedly was named for him. Grandaddy McMillan was a private with the First Georgia Cavalry in the Civil War, and was a blacksmith. He contracted a "lung disease" while serving in the Army, which may account for his death at the age of 47. There is more about him here. He had 16 siblings.

Mary Mansfield Brown -- my great great grandmother

1834-1919                                  

Children (8)

There is more information about her here, Find A Grave. For a more complete listing of her siblings and children, see here. She had 16 siblings. One of her siblings was named Francis Marion Brown, another James K. Polk Brown. Her husband was named after the governor. Pretty interesting. I wonder if she realized that one day her grandson Bob Hasty would be famous in his own right as a major league baseball player?!

 

Emily Adeline McMillan -- she has a granddaughter named Donna and I have gotten to know her, a delightful lady who lives in Florida

1854-1924

 

Franklin Lamar McMillan

1856-1954

 

Margaret Ann Mc Millan

1859-1890

 

Martha Virginia McMillan -- this is my great-grandmother, and she is in the photos above. Mom said she was revered as a very sweet, kind lady

1862-1929

 

James M McMillan

1868-

 

Joseph Warren McMillan  -- this is the grandfather of Barbara, and great-grandfather of Roy

1870-1954                       

 

Arthur Lumpkin McMillan

1873-1953

 

Etta Lozenia McMillan  -- she married one of William Hasty's cousins, Jimmy Hasty, and their grandson is a friend of mine; I call him my double cousin

1876-1940    

 

  left, a portrait of Etta McMillan Hasty

 

  I get a big kick out of locating cousins and getting to know them. I was particularly thrilled to find Etta and Jimmy's descendants. My mother remembers going to see Etta and Jimmy as a little girl. 

 

 The Hasty men are all excellent craftsmen when it comes to wood. My kitchen table was made by William Hasty, my great-grandfather, and we have a beautiful oak chest of drawers he made. Etta's grandson Norman has a thriving business making beautiful custom wood furniture. Mom's cousin Frank Hasty does wood "turning" and makes amazingly beautiful bowls, ornaments, and other things.

 

 One of the delightful legacies of the McMillans is musical talent. Mom remembers going to eat big Sunday dinners at the McMillan home and everyone would sit around and sing afterwards, in harmony. They all sang and/or played an instrument. Mom has a beautiful singing voice and sang professionally as a young woman. I have also studied voice and done a lot of singing [when I was young, not now]. Mom's brother Don and his wife have sung in church choirs for decades, and their children are musically talented as well -- their daughter Linda plays and sings in a band, and their son plays guitar. Don's granddaughter has a lovely voice and we recently saw a video of her singing at church. 

 

Mom said all the McMillan women loved to cook and were excellent cooks. I love to cook too! [You can order my cookbook on Amazon, What's for Dinner, Mom?]

 

 I mention these things because they fascinate me. I know most of today's generations, the twenty-something Hasty and McMillan descendants, probably don't think this is important or interesting, but I do. We are all part of a lineage that goes back to Great Britain, Scotland, Ireland, and further. I have woodworkers and minstrels in my family background.  I have farmers and shopkeepers. All the men on both sides have fought in every war, too. We love this country.     

 

We are all part of a tapestry of relatives, stretching back across the centuries. We all deserve to know those family members, as much as we can. Mom recalls sitting on Grandpa Hasty's knee and him singing Irish lullabies to her. She sat me on her lap and sang to me, too. What a beautiful legacy, the gift of music. I always think of Grandpa, too, when I eat at the table he built. What a rich experience for me, getting to know these cousins, and gaining a broader understanding of my family and how we are all connected. God Bless us all.   

Don't Discriminate Against Gay Parents

Shortly before I brought my daughter home from Russia in 2004 I started a group for parents of children adopted from Russia and Eastern Europe. The best support I got through the adoption process was from other parents. Like veterans, we were part of a unique group and only folks going through an international adoption could really understand the process.

I met a couple of ladies who were gay, and in the process of adopting two babies from Russia. The babies were medically fragile and desperately in need of medical care not available to them in their orphanages. I don't remember their specific issues. One of the ladies adopted both children. Her longtime partner went with her and attested they were "friends." They couldn't admit to more because if they had, the Russian government wouldn't have allowed the adoption to go forward. The government would rather have let those two children die than be adopted by a gay couple. I was thoroughly disgusted by that stance, but not really surprised.

Now, I read that our own government is allowing faith-based adoption agencies to discriminate against gay couples and still get federal dollars.

Pence Praises Rule That Would Let Adoption Agencies Exclude Gay Parents

This is utterly horrifying. Federal dollars -- our tax dollars -- are going to agencies who think it's just fine that religious organizations condemn gay parents and won't work with them.

I know what it feels like to face discrimination. When I was adopting my daughter I heard great things about a local adoption agency and I called them up, only to be told that because I was single they wouldn't work with me. This so-called "Christian" organization refused to work with single moms or dads -- despite the fact that I am not gay. Didn't matter to them. They thought it was better for children to stay in an orphanage than be in a loving single-parent home.

We have a huge population of children in foster care in America today. One in 5 children [20%] adopted through foster care go to loving, stable gay families. In contrast, only 3% of straight couples adopt from foster care.

Being gay is not a choice. People are born gay, straight, or bisexual. Many religions argue being gay is a choice -- then they can say it's sinful. I have several close friends and family members who are gay. It's not a choice. It's how God made them.

Thank God there are actually adoption agencies who help gay people adopt, like Lifelong Adoptions.

The lesbian couple who adopted from Russia are now the proud parents of two teenagers who are smart, kind, well-behaved, amazing. Their daughter is an honors student, now in college, and her brother will soon be in college. Both those medically fragile babies are now healthy, happy teens who love both their mamas and have had a happy childhood.

All children deserve loving parents.

I have met many orphans and all of them would have been thrilled to be adopted by a single parent or a gay couple -- because loving parents are always better than no parents.

No gay family should be turned down by a faith-based agency, but it happens. The fact that our government is endorsing that and turning over tax dollars to them is terrible. I want to bring attention to this issue because it is just WRONG.

Below, my son in the orphanage.