Adoption update

As we get closer to buying a house, we grow more anxious to expand our family. Since our failed placement in August, we have not heard anything from our agency about potential adoptions. We've only been on the list of available adoptive parents for a year and a half, but we've been trying, waiting, and hoping for kids for nearly five years. It's been a long wait. Over the past few months, Nate and I have talked more and more about the question we've been avoiding for five years: What if we are never presented with the chance to adopt a baby? Then what? Our desire is to be parents, so what do you do with that desire when it seems almost totally out of reach?

Over the past few years we've peeked at a local agency's website that contains photos and profiles of kids in Nebraska who have been in the foster system but are now available for adoption. Typically these kids are older (the average age seems to be about 11) and many of the kids on the website come with siblings that must all be placed with the same family. Last week we made contact with a woman through this agency to see what we needed to do if we were interested in adopting one or more of these kids. She responded promptly and gave us all the steps we needed to take...the first step is to become licensed foster parents. After some praying and researching, we've decided that we will take this first step. Even if we don't adopt one of the kids from the above agency, there are lots of kids in Nebraska who need stable, loving temporary homes. That's something we can provide, so why wouldn't we?

Nate and I have been thinking and praying about this a lot this week. We've wondered if we should stay in the adoption pool and just become foster parents while we wait; we've wondered if we should take ourselves out of the adoption pool for now and pursue adopting one or more of the kids who are ready for adoption...it's a lot to think about, really. When most couples get married, they assume they'll have a few babies to raise. Most couples don't imagine themselves facing infertility and adopting an older child. It's definitely not the direction we thought our lives would take, but the more we face reality, the more we realize that we simply want to be parents. When I think about not adopting a baby, it doesn't make me sad like it once did. Our path to parenthood might be non-traditional: It could mean fostering kids; it could mean adopting an 11 year old or adopting a set of three siblings. I'm sure people might think we're crazy for taking on any of those options, but if crazy means providing a loving, safe home for kids, then I'm all for being crazy.

If you're the praying type, here are a few requests:

• We're trying to decide if we should stay with our agency or switch to a different agency here in Omaha that works more closely with the agency that places those older children with "forever families." It's a big decision, so we'll need to be wise and patient as we make it. We will be attending an informational meeting in two weeks for this other agency to see what the process is for fostering and how it compares to our current agency. 
• Pray that God would continue to prepare us (our marriage, our home, and our families) for whatever God has in store for our family.
• We need to close on our house in Ogallala, and if we want to foster or adopt, we'll need to find a home here in Omaha that we can move into by June or July. Like most young couples, we're on a limited budget, but we would like to find a home that doesn't require a lot of work and has four or more bedrooms so we can either adopt a set of siblings or offer foster care to siblings. 
• Something has to change a bit with my current schedule before we invite kids into our home...not sure how that might look, and I know I need to remain working full time. I want to be able to give whatever kids we have in our home the attention they deserve.

Many of you have offered us support through prayers and kind words; please know that we could not have traveled this tough road and come out stronger on the other side without this support. Thank you! 

The Power of Language

My juniors and I are currently reading Kindred, and this week we're studying the power of language. We've read some fabulous pieces about how language is used to oppress, how a word can change meanings based on the context, and today we read about how language can offer restoration as we read Jimmy Santiago Baca's essay, "Coming into Language." My students were captivated as we read the piece out loud. It's a powerful piece that leaves me breathless each time I read it. Tonight they are writing about their experiences with language--how the written or spoken word has impacted them. I'm anxious to read their pieces. As a whole, they're kind of a hesitant group. I'm not sure they've been asked to do much personal writing or sharing of their writing. They were very panicky about this, so I  had to give them a pep talk about the importance of sharing our work and experiences in order to build community and learn from one another's experiences. I'm still not sure they completely bought into it...

I told them I'd write my own piece and bring it to class to share. I've done this before with them, and each time they're a bit taken aback, and I can tell that some find it unnerving that their teacher is sharing a piece of her life with them. So tomorrow I'll unnerve them again by sharing this piece:

It was my senior year, and I was 17. My close friends, the ones who saw the real me--the me without the mask--had graduated and left for college or to pursue jobs, and I was left behind in my dusty, factory speckled town. A usual symptom of youth is a discontentedness with one's community, and I was no exception. I couldn't wait to leave. I didn't know where I wanted to go, but I knew I wanted out. Feeling a bit abandoned, I took to reading books. I read Tom Robbins, Kurt Vonnegut, John Steinbeck, and Jack Kerouac among others. I pictured myself hoboing with Kerouac, and time traveling to be a fruit-picker in California, and for the first time I dreamed of becoming a writer. I ate lunch with Steinbeck--outside when the weather was nice leaning on a tree that sat near the front of my high school or inside on an 80s looking wooden cube--carpeted on top and with rounded edges that sat in front of my English classroom. I rekindled my childhood love-affair with the public library and spent afternoons after school reading on the floor upstairs where it was the quietest. My previous three years of high school had been incredibly social, but this year I became more introverted and found a sort of peace in this newfound solitude. Perhaps it was because I wasn't really alone; my books provided me with companionship. At the end of the year, I found myself declaring a major in English. I was to be a modern beatnik poet--without all the hitchhiking. For a graduation gift, a family friend gave me a dark brown leather journal. The cover was soft and the pages inside were crisp and earth-toned. I spent that summer writing pages of poems and songs and later took it with me to college--those pages helped me process some difficult moments in life: a troubling relationship and later a devastating heartbreak, an unexpected bout of homesickness, a wild phase where I tested my limits with alcohol, and eventually self discovery. Books and writing carried me to new places within myself I didn't know existed before that year. And still, when I let them, they sweep me up in a wave of introspection that muddies the waters but almost always leaves me feeling clean and calm afterwards. 

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Over the weekend we ventured west. Saturday Nate directed the Singing Youth of Nebraska festival choir in North Platte. I don't know how many concerts I've watched Nate conduct, but every time I'm proud of all he's accomplished. It's incredible how talented of a teacher he is. It's evident in the way kids watch and respond to him on stage--even kids who have only known him for 7 hours like the ones pictured in the photo.

While Nate was busy working, I was busy catching up with friends in Ogallala. I got to run with Kristin and spend time at Lou Kraus music visiting with our friend Shannon (Bob was in India). After the concert, Nate and I both got to eat at our favorite restaurant, Open Range, with some of our favorite people from Ogallala. Then we spent time at McDonald's with about 15 of our former OHS students. It was so great to be able to catch up with these kids again. We've missed them so much. I never thought it would be so hard to leave a group of kids.

We headed back to Omaha on Sunday, so it was a quick trip. It was much-needed though. I think Nate and I both needed to go back to see that our kids are doing okay without us. I carried a lot of guilt for leaving (still do, actually). I did cry as we pulled out of Ogallala and headed east down I-80 towards our home that doesn't quite feel like a home yet.

When we moved, I honestly thought things would get better. I had frustrations from my job due to a lack of administrative support, and I felt isolated. I knew that my new job would be difficult because the expectations for teachers and students was higher. But I never assumed the job would be as hard as its been. Honestly, this year has been rough for me. My job has been more time consuming than I thought it would be, and I haven't been able to build relationships with kids like I have in the past. I feel like my entire life has been swallowed by my job. Even today on my snow day, I tried to go back to sleep and couldn't stop the list of things I need to do for work from running through my mind. I had to get up. I sat down to read the Bible like I do most mornings, and again, I couldn't stop thinking about work. I tried to write to shake off the thoughts, and they kept gnawing. I think about work when I drive home, when I pray, when I read, when I write, when I run, when I'm eating dinner with friends, when I'm spending time with family. I feel guilty when I'm doing something other than working. Then I feel guilty for working too much. I can't shut it off this year, and it's maddening. It's to the point where my fire for teaching seems to be a fading blue flame. Honestly, I'm not sure what to do about it. When I look at the kids in the picture, it makes me want to keep teaching so I can build those relationships and be a positive role model (kids can never have too many positive adults in their lives). I truly love education, but I don't love that I've let it take over my life. Most of the teachers I know seem to have their lives together and in balance and don't seem to be such a big mess like I am; I always wonder how they do it. I don't know if it's this job in particular that is leaving me anxiety-ridden, if it's the fact that it's a new job, or a combination of both. Whatever it is, I need to figure out a solution soon before I (and my relationships with others) combust.