I’m BAAACCCCKKK.

Okay, so I really have no excuse as to why I have not written in over a month. I have truly been exceptionally lazy. Between two jobs and keeping my head on straight from them I can safely say that I want out of here…NOW!

Updates, updates, updates:

I got into both Universities that I applied to and have chosen (drum-roll please…): Dalhousie University! Here is the real zinger, a while back you might have heard that I was interested in Kinesiology, and even way before that I wanted to be a teacher and then way before that I wanted to be a veterinarian. After considering what I was interested in this year I wanted to pursue CanoeKayak coaching further because of the lack of female representatives in coaching the sport. Considering it all and what I felt was right or me, I am choosing the path of Law. Way before I even wanted to be a veterinarian (we are talking elementary school, people) I had an avid interest in human rights, animal rights and basically being right about everything. I am obsessed with it and have spent most of my life advocating for various causes etc. Little did I know or realize that while I was busy dreaming up schemes of being a physiotherapist or teacher I had a knack for representing causes and other people/things, writing, working, being fair, persuading, not suffering fools gladly (as my father would put it), being persistent and being aggressive when need be. Thinking about the possibility of going into Law has me super excited. Of course, don’t take my word for it because as you probably know my mind wanders constantly. But for now, Law & Society with a minor in Gender & Women’s studies seems like the deal maker.

This summer I am coaching again, my other definite passion despite its frustration and difficulties. Maybe if my Law thing doesn’t work out I will try my hand at moving up the ladder in coaching even more. For now though I am happy with taking the training courses to compliment the needs of my athletes and keeping my mind fresh.

Another thing you may not know is that I am just crazy enough to drive from Calgary to Nova Scotia in two weeks for my big move. My little Mazda 3 better be ready because this girl is bringing the whole friggen house.

Oh and I am running a half-marathon in a week, can you say OUCH!

I am so excited for what lies ahead, the adventure, the fear, the difficulty, but my dream of FINALLY going to University and living in the province of nice people is coming true.

Generation Power Girl

I recently attended a seminar for work and it left me incredibly baffled and annoyed. Entitled, “How to deal with Adolescent Stress” I had no idea one of the topics would be about body image, and how young girls find themselves increasingly stressed about how they look and needing to fit into their peer groups. One of the solutions which many programs already implement are programs aimed at young girls/young women only, with activities aimed at boosting their morale about themselves and understanding the ugly side to media portrayal. This is where my rant comes in, I simply do not believe this is the solution. Hear me out:

I think older people have this idea that we (young people) have no idea how media portrays us to be. We know. From a very young age we were made aware and were self-aware of the obscenely skinny models and picture perfect faces. Although for a time some of us thought this to be what the perfect woman embodied, later on we did learn that this is in fact not true. We learned this from our parents and our teachers. But then something happened. There was this uprise of programs entitled, “Go Girl” or “Power Girl” aimed at boosting a girl’s confidence and perspective on this fake beauty even more. I recall Dove being a pioneer in starting these campaigns for girls and women having them believe that real beauty is makeup-less and curvy. Reading through the events page in one of Calgary’s city magazines I found, “Young Women of Power Conference”. Its description is as follows:

“An all-day conference for girls ages 12 to 18ish consisting of active group sessions about hair care, Zumba, boxing, friendship and more aimed at helping girls see that they are more than enough. Speakers include _______________, slam poet champion, ______________ of the Pregnancy Care Centre, and rising pop-star _______________.” (spaces left blank on purpose!)

This is what “power” conferences are becoming. Apparently knowing how to care for your hair and how to zumba are quintessential tools in making strong young woman. I put in bold that one line about “helping girls see that they are more than enough” because that is the crux of these programs.  It is frustrating really, these conferences have this idea that girls do not know what they’re worth in society but they do know! They know exactly what society expects them to be, they expect them to be insecure about their image because media portrays women as being unrealistically perfect! Conferences are simply just supporting what society labels girls to be.  These conferences have already assumed that girls nowadays have low self-esteems. When conferences tell girls to ‘love themselves’ or to ‘feel beautiful just the way you are’ they’re ultimately saying to accept the world’s views on them as it is. The world view being that girls are crippling at the hands of perfect, skinny models on product advertisements.  It is okay to not feel perfect, but we do not feel this way because our confidence has been shot, we feel this way because that is what society has trained us to understand. Girls do not need self-esteem boosters, or people shouting at them telling them they’re gorgeous, flaws and all. What girls need is the opportunity to be able to do what they want to do without fear of facing stereotypes or sexism. True and righteous power comes from equal opportunity-not from ‘feeling’ beautiful. Girls need engineering programs not aimed at “promoting the engineer in the girl” but having them simply know that the engineer in them was there the whole time and now they can prove it. Girls need science programs that do not advertise statistics about the number of female scientists vs. male, but rather just programs that offer science to girls with an eye for science! Nobody needs to tell girls in sports that they should feel accomplished because they have muscles, or real girls are athletic. Girls just need the opportunity to participate in sports and competition without sexism.

Programs that support girl’s self-esteem no doubt are only trying to have their best interests in mind, but the ‘feel good’ aspect of life is not everything. Learning to love who you are and who you are becoming are certainly important in every day life but there is so much more. Perhaps people need to realize that what girls need most is opportunity and guidance in their endeavors. They (or I guess, we) do not need forks in the road or barriers known as stereotypes but need a clear path.  Instead of telling girls to be happy and smile, perhaps we should tell them that they have every right to be pissed with how society expects them to be. This will warrant for change, the key is understanding that the realization of injustice causes change-not simply just settling for what society wants us to be with a smile.

Now, after reading this, watch this video and you may begin to realize what I mean about supposed “Power Women” mantras. What is YOUR definition of REAL beauty? The definition of beauty is not always what you see, but definitely who you are. Let’s change “Power Women” and actually give us power, not just “love who you are” statements and tearfully made videos.

“Real” Beauty Sketches

Learning English

“Our culture made a virtue of living only as extroverts. We discouraged the inner journey, the quest for a center, so we lost our center and have to find it again.” -Anais Nin

Happy Easter to everybody who celebrate it!

Learning to speak English (or whatever the native language is)  is perhaps is the most worried about first tasks on the long list of what to do post-adoption. I myself can say that while I do not remember the exact first steps my parents took to teach me English it certainly could not have been easy considering I never really wanted to say much around other people. I was very shy and to this day find social interaction something that I need to improve on. I think my lack of desire to interact with others at an early age stemmed from my desire to feel connected to my parents first. Being taken from the only home I knew to Canada, what I lost in connection to the mother-land I had to make up for in connection to my new parents. This meant being hyper-focused (yes, even an infant can be hyper-focused) on being constantly surrounded by them! When I was pushed into social situations perhaps I felt like I was being torn away again and forced to interact with more people because I would eventually lose my new parents like I lost my home-land.The same goes for going to daycare, my mother thinks that my reason for crying constantly before I went was that I felt that possibly I was being taken to another children’s home and my parents were leaving me.

I define being introverted for myself as preferring to stay at home rather than go out and party. I would rather quietly observe my surroundings first instead of putting myself out there. In band camp in Grade 8, I took with me two very large veterinary books and expected to read them while I was there instead of talking to the other girls in my room about girl problems. As a younger child I was known to be shy, and my parents would apologize for my shyness or lack of social interaction. While sometimes my actions were in fact snobby, sometimes I felt like I had to have an excuse for being the way I was. There must have been a reason why they apologized for my shyness…was it wrong?

Almost every person I know who has been adopted (which is really not that many) has been held back a grade in school because their parents wanted them to improve their English and ability to interact with others in English. Like I said in my earlier post (Bullies on the Brain, you can read about it here: http://adoptingmorethanme.wordpress.com/2013/03/27/bullies-on-the-brain/) I never really took to people like some other kids did. I was not that kid that could plop herself down on the floor with another kid and begin a friendship builder. I believe that because I had this lack of desire to interact with others my age, I took to books. I believe that taking to books helped me learn English better than being forced to use my English with others. You see, not all kids who are shy are destined for a life of improper language skills, nor should they be labeled “snobby”. They simply just need another option. Growing up, being in a room full of small children (aka. kindergarten class or preschool) a place where one should feel comfortable I was at my most uncomfortable. There are almost no pictures of me where I am happily involved in a play station, instead I am being toted around by the school teacher. This improved as I got older though it took A LOT of work. I think this is where open-mindedness comes in. People expect kids to be extroverted, anybody who happens to be introverted is automatically labeled as “shy” or “snobby”.  I was shy, I was easily timid and nervous about being in the company of younger people. I am however more introverted than extroverted and no amount of social interaction at a young age could have possibly changed that. Back to the real purpose of this post: Had my parents held me back in school one more year to become better associated with people I doubt would have changed much. It would not have improved my English, nor would it have had me turn into more of a social butterfly. The way I chose to communicate was through books. I read a book, and regurgitated it back almost right down the exact written words themselves. I attended those library reading sessions as a toddler, said nothing and participated in nothing during those sessions but as soon as I left, could recite every poem or song that I had learned.

Through the use of books I think I learned what language was, it is not just repeating “Mommy” or “Daddy” after hearing it, but it is understanding the words itself. I quickly soared through the school curriculum for reading and was reading at a Grade 11 level by the time I was in Grade 7. In Elementary school we had this weekly Friday rotary schedule. We would choose an activity that we wanted to do each Friday. In Grade 5 I chose Theatre. It was with one of my favourite though super tough math teachers. I believe that I chose Theatre because it was the closest thing to reading. By reading when I was younger like I said above, I understood the meanings of the words. I understood the emotions behind them in stories. I think this is why I surprised myself in Theatre rotary and surprised my teacher. The once very quiet almost all of the time student was reading scripts like Rapunzel and Shakespeare with emotion, character and volume! I remember my teacher told my mother this with great surprise and excitement. Perhaps all was not completely doomed yet.  I never joined drama because drama was far more ‘out there’ than I every wanted to be but occasionally reading scripts and reading from books aloud, I found volume that I never had before. This is what Theatre rotary taught me about language.

I only learned how to interact with people because as I got older I really had no choice. The natural consequence of not talking is that very few people talk to you back. Regardless of whether you are introverted or extroverted, you need human interaction. The difference between being a hermit and introverted is just that, you choose to be solitary versus you enjoy the warmth of human companionship without the rowdiness. I think once people figure that out they will accept more quiet, more solitary personalities as being equally important to society just as much as  boisterous and high-energy ones. For my job I have to be able to talk to parents with confidence and talk to kids with confidence and talk to whoever with confidence. While I did not progress very fast in terms of being able to speak publicly or speak with confidence I learned at a rate that supported my personality. Had I been told to put the books away and forced into social situations constantly  I think a part of me would be very confused now, almost like I was turned into something that I was not meant to be. Thankfully that never happened.

The moral of the post is, we are not created the same. Sometimes things happen and we have reason for it. I was not abused when I younger, or suppressed but I ended up being the way I am. My parents did everything that any other parent would think to do. When your kid doesn’t talk to others, something’s got to be done. They did however realize the importance of my books and its connection to how I would choose to learn English and later discover my public volume which I discovered in Grade 5. Though this method may not work for some, it worked for me.

I wanted to leave you with some things that I found helpful when I was trying to find my voice as well as learn to deal with social situations:

-Obviously I read. For as long as I can remember my father read to me when I was little (and not very literate yet in English) and gradually I took over, reading to him.

-I enjoyed making small groups of friends, one at a time rather than all at once. My mother always put together birthday parties with this in mind. There was not going to be twenty kids bouncing around a table. Maybe five or six.

-Going to library reading sessions. While it may have been completely useless as far getting me to interact DURING the class, I certainly took something from it afterwards and that is really all you could hope for. Sometimes you do not get it all.

-My parents encouraged me to make my own friends, I do not remember once having them take my hand and go over to a group of kids and have me introduce myself. Because I was not going to. If that meant I spent a few lonely years that was okay, eventually I would find someone who I felt fit the position of being my friend. The first play mate I remember? It was a boy!

-My mother and father’s ways of dealing with shyness are vastly different. My father was more a gentle sort and allowed me to pursue my shyness and hang by his side. My mother was very pushy and although sometimes it seemed overboard I would not actually have the job I have now if it weren’t for her pushiness when I was in Grade 7. She signed me up to be a day camp volunteer. From there, it opened doors to coaching and working with various organizations! It is important to have that connection with someone who lets you be who you need to be and someone who wants you to try different things.

-My strengths were celebrated and my weaknesses were not mentioned as being problems. Yes, when I was younger my shyness was often apologized for but as I got older and my parents got to know me better, it became more a case of putting me in situations where my shyness did not have to come out. I did not have to feel like I needed to protect myself with it. This meant not pushing me into groups after a certain point.

-Rather than my mother standing in shock and being all “No way, she’s good at Theatre?!?” my mother acted like I had been good at it all along! I think this helped me in Grade 5 as my weaknesses played no part in my love for Theatre but I simply found something that had been previously hidden before.

Anyways, that is just the way I learned English and how to interact with those around me, much of it was done through SELF-exploration. Being someone who now works with kids, I find we are steering away from self-exploration and trying too hard to find the solutions to social problems too quickly.We are expecting success only from extroverted people and expecting very little from introverted, labeling them as not participating in an appropriate manner or as we see fit. This idea needs to change and once that idea changes and we realize that the two need each other to be successful I think more people will accept both ways of learning. When both ways of learning are accepted and supported who knows what brilliant minds could come up with next.

Bullies on the Brain

I wanted to write this post because I think it is important to address. I have read a lot of comments from people who are simply dumbfounded when it comes to bullying in school. While bullying can happen to anyone for any particular reason I think those who take interest in this blog can relate that most bullying incidents had something to do with not belonging or being an outsider. When I was younger, feeling like an outsider was huge. For now, I will tell you what I know and experienced:

I was not held back in school. When I was 5 I hit kindergarten. While I realize some parents choose to hold their child back for a number of reasons, I do not think there was any reason for my parents to. There I am happily involved in kindergarten. HA. As if. The truth is I was probably the most ridiculous little child any teacher would have the delight in dealing with. I HATED social interaction…with other kids. Let’s just say that I regarded myself to be ‘better’ than those dirty, smelly, kind of unintelligent life forms sharing crayons with each other in that classroom. I think it is safe to say that my kindergarten year, though it lacked communication with anyone under the age of 30, went by rather smoothly. It was in Grade 1 though where I would become the target of a lovely bunch of girl bullies.

This is where most Asian kids could relate. For the most part, we are made smaller and younger looking than our Caucasian counterparts. While we will need to haul out the ID’s for most of our lives, they will probably be able to stop after 30. I guess this is where my life in elementary was made very difficult. Naturally, because I was so small I became the target to a group of wicked and dare I say it, spoiled brats. I do not exactly remember why I was bullied, I think it was just something fun for them to do. I was an easy target. I do remember though moving back and forth between schools because of them though. I was almost so tired of moving back and forth that I would have rather been bullied and stayed in one place. I was willing to deal with that. Unfortunately sometimes teachers are not equipped with the right coping mechanisms when it comes to bullies. We sure talked about it a lot, had posters up, even watched and read books about bullying. But when it came to an actual kid being bullied, speaking from experience I was less than impressed. I used to get circled outside in the playground where the girls would chant nasty words about me and keep me from getting out of the circle. I was purposely cut off and then brought back in to various social circles numerous times, it all became rather overwhelming. The teacher knew of this bullying problem right from the get-go, my parents were not exactly silent soldiers with this one. One of the ‘strategies’ that my teacher put to use to deal with this was a lovely activity called “Roses and Thorns”. For those who are unfamiliar with this useless tactic (when it comes to social problems), basically everybody sits in a circle and says one thing that they like about the goings-on in the class and one thing that they want to change. I was a very shy person when it came to speaking my true feelings, do you blame me? If I did speak my true feelings I would get thrown back into the taunting circle! Anyways, my turn came and I said that I was fine. Nothing was wrong. Nobody was bothering me. The teacher nodded and onto the next person we went. The leader of the bully pack’s turn came up. Instead of lying and saying that she felt nothing needed to be changed she decided to use my own thorn against me. She said she and the other girls apologize for the way that they had treated me earlier (another incident). Instead of the teacher acknowledging what they had done wrong, she decided to get mad at me-for not saying anything about it. What?! Like hell I wasn’t going to say anything! All I was concerned about was keeping my mouth shut, I really did not feel like getting excluded from my so-called social group. Again.

Taunting. That is what all of my Grade 2-3 bully problems consisted of. Being picked on for being tiny and helpless and quite frankly I was very helpless. I did not really know how to deal with bullies, nobody taught me. Well okay, they did, but it was the wrong kind of help. The help and advice that books and TV programs and teachers and sometimes parents give about bullying is pretty bad. Everybody assumes that the bully is a rational person who can just ‘talk it out’. Everybody assumes that deep down bullies are victims too. You know what? Sometimes they are not. Sometimes nothing is wrong in their life and they are the way they are. Saying, “You really hurt my feelings and I would like you to stop” is probably the worst comeback to a bully. But you know why we are told to say that? Because it’s either that or we end up saying something ten times worse than what they said, or even more brutal, we end up punching them. This is where my Grade 4-Junior High life takes form.

I did not punch anybody, let me be very clear. But when I moved schools for the last time in elementary I think I felt deflated, all my energy had been lost. I was back to being that tiny Thai girl with no back bone and craved so much to belong somewhere that I allowed myself to get stepped on again. Only this time, I was a pre-teen. This time bullying was less about the taunting circles and more about the mind games. It was about manipulation and making someone feel all alone in a large group of people. My elementary experiences taught me not to say anything at all to my parents until things got REALLY bad. But my parents know me, and they know when something is not right. My body language would change around certain people, any confidence I had left completely disappeared when I was with these people. I was so much involved with them that slowly I became like one of them.

I can name off certain situations in Junior High where I treated somebody unfairly, where I excluded them or gossiped about them. I feel terrible, and there is no excuse. I cannot blame being bullied or being brainwashed  as the cause to my actions towards others. It was simply wrong. I suppose you could say that while I was being sneakily brainwashed I gave myself leverage and gave myself a new purpose. This person gave me a sense of pride, even though it was the wrong sense of pride. But my parents are smart, especially my mother when it comes to situations like this. After a time of having to separate myself and regain my composure I had to start fresh again, like when I moved schools. Grade 8 and 9 went by and I found myself moving schools for High School with much haste and a desire to leave and never look back.

By this point I no longer gave a damn about the number of friends I had or regrets about burning bridges. This attitude gave me the reputation of being very strong-willed and spearheaded, it was favorable amongst people who needed something to get done and teachers who knew the job was going to be done right. Years and years of being other people’s door mats for both children and adults, taught me to get shit done no matter what it took. I no longer see being teased as a sign that something is wrong with me, or even that something is wrong with the teaser. Sometimes people say things without thinking about what they’re saying, I still do it sometimes. What is important is knowing that being teased for being short or small (like I am) is not a sign of weakness on my part. I am short and small. I accept it as a characteristic, not as a personality trait. It is important to know that you do not have to deal with it, just like you do not have to attend every fight you’re invited to. Teasing can go on for years, but I find that the less you care, the more bored they get. The more you are proud of what you look like or how you are gives you a sense of power that is ten times stronger than any bully could ever have. You see, bullies thrive off of negative energy,  there is only so much of it though because it can only be created by negative people. There are so many more positive people. Positive energy is endless, and mental strength is the biggest threat to a bully’s tactics. They go after those who accept their being small as the way their personality is, they go after people who prefer to keep quiet out of fear (like myself when I was younger) rather than stand against. While I personally would disregard most of what those bully books taught us, I can say that sometimes all it takes is one good talking to, not from parents or teachers, but from what your gut tells you. Speaking from experience, nothing is more gut-wrenching than the once quiet child looking you straight in the eye and with absolute confidence, telling you how disgusting your behavior is and how ashamed you should feel for treating someone like that. Should you not know what to say, take a shower. Our best thoughts and speeches are created there.

The Start of Something Cool

It has been over a month since I have written. Sorry! Life has just been incredibly busy to say the least. Where to start…

Remember waaayyyy back into last year when I thought I had no idea what I wanted to do and that my life was at a stand still? Well, while I am still not entirely sure about what I want to do, I do know my life is at no stand still. I am going to be completely honest: I was no perfect High School student, and this imperfection was almost at a point that I thought I would not be able to get into University. The struggle was so much that I did not want to go to University, it was easier to whittle away than to keep pushing forward. Taking the gap year I was able to figure out what I wanted and I was able to really see what people thought of gap-year students. I had one person bold enough to tell me that I probably would not go back to school once I decided to take the year off.  It was at this point that I knew I HAD to go back, just in spite of her. Not only that, but I had to go because it was clear that I was ready to learn again. I re-ignited my passions and knew what I wanted again. Funny how things straighten themselves out on their own.

Ever since I attended Nationals in Nova Scotia in 2008 I knew that I loved the east coast. It rained for three and three-quarter days straight. It was not the rain that drew me to that place though, it was during the 6K race on the third day (the last race of the day) when the sun finally came out and illuminated the finish line. That image will forever be engraved in my mind as the day when I fell in love with that place. I knew I had to go back. Nova Scotia had always been my finish line, the carrot at the end of the stick. I didn’t care how I would get there, or even what I would do there, all I knew was that I wanted to live there and I would do whatever it took to make it. Even during the times when I was convinced that I would just work my whole life and not do post-secondary studies I knew that I had to get out of Alberta.

The long and the short of it is, I am finally going to be able to see my carrot at the end of the stick, and I am going to be able to prove that anti-gap year person wrong. I got accepted into University! In Nova Scotia! While some people would not consider this a big deal or massive feat I will tell you this: The journey to get that acceptance letter was one hell of a ride that I would NEVER embark on again.

I think the problem is that a lot us think that we are entitled to an education. Because of this, I felt obligated to find something to learn about and that just back fired in my face. But when I actually started to see things in perspective, when I actually started to think about what I loved to do it was not about it being an obligation anymore but a privilege. When I see it that way it makes it more meaningful and more rewarding. To think back to the days when I failed test after test, and squeaked by in some classes, I can only look forward now. While I will experience many more ups and downs I can at least have September 2013 in my mind, I made it that far, I have to keep going!

In order to be, you must do. All great things start from that one adventure. That one dream. That one idea. That one step. To adventure is to find yourself whole. To adventure is to have a story at the end of all of this. The places you see, the things you make and the people you meet will fuel you forever. Choose to see beauty where others see none, and strive for greatness always. Inspire yourself to do more. To be more. To feel good lost and explore always.

Messy House & the Moon

My mom is currently away in a far away land. And while I can say that having the house a bit messy pleases me, I do miss her. You see, our relationship is not like others but then again if you tried to compare your relationship with others I would hope that it would be different too. Possibly brought together by chance and a tiny bit of urgency, we created this mom-daughter bond that brings out the worst and the best in us at the exact same time. But, I am clearly not her, she is not me. Nature vs. nurture tendencies kicked in pretty quickly around here. A while ago, when I was about ten or eleven years old I remember looking up at the moon in broad daylight and thinking that it is nighttime in Thailand, I wonder if my birth mother is looking up at this same moon? That is all we may have in common for now. Mentioning it in passing to my mommy she looked at me with slight awe. She had thought the same thing when she was waiting for me to come home, to be her daughter. Is there something that my birth-mom looks at that makes her remember me, or has she chosen to forget? I do not mind either way, but I guess having this time to myself I get to imagine so many things about how life could have been.

I can recall all of the times when I saw a Thai person, or at least someone who resembled a Thai person and wondered if they could be related to me. I was a preteen and although the chances were pretty slim I still had this idea that it could be possible. Whenever my mother and I were in a rut and she would exclaim, “This is what all families do”, sometimes I begged to differ. I looked around and saw the people I was interacting with and wondered how could this be what all families do? Just in those same moments I would think, what would my life be like in this exact same situation but with a different mother? The idea that my life could have turned out differently intrigues me. If I had not been adopted and stayed in Thailand with my birth family who would I have become? Certainly not a paddler most likely, probably not a coach and would I be bad at math? Or would I be that stereotypical Asian kid who got all A’s and studied day in and day out without question. Would I have gotten grounded for receiving poor marks, or would I have gotten a motivational speech, like I get around here? How would my family have handled fights or disagreements? If there were siblings involved, how well would my birth parents know me? Would I have just been another kid to them, or would I have been their everything, like I am around here? It is just as easy to imagine my life with a different set of adoptive parents, what if I grew up in Scotland or the maritime’s or somewhere that was not here? I can imagine so many scenarios and so many opportunities that I take for granted and I sometimes forget that it could have all been different and I would not have known otherwise.

At the end of the day I do not mind if my birth mother chose to forget. I can choose to think that giving me up was a hard choice and it probably came with a lot of heartbreak. We are human, and why would we want to hold on to something that has so many unknowns tied to it when we could just face forward to the future? Just like I think about how my life could have been, does she think the same if she chooses to remember? Would we have gotten along better because our personalities may have been more similar? Would we have written stories together or enjoyed blasting bad music and dancing insanely? Would we talk things out when times were difficult, or would we be both stubborn and choose to both be right, even if we were both obviously wrong? How much of what makes me who I am can I attribute to her? And to him, I suppose.

Some days I would like to receive an email that says that there is information about where I came from and who I came from, and then there are some days where I am perfectly content with my life and I do not need an explanation. I have compared the cleanliness level of our house to that of an operation table, where everything must be spotless and the slightest disarray is a sign of impending doom. The point is, MY mom is away. The house is slightly messy and there are random objects all over the dining room table, and had my mom been here there would have been a rut about the mess. So, do I look up at the moon and hope that my birth mother is looking back? Or do I simply clean it up? Because after all, after eighteen years I live a life that I am proud of, and I love my mom.

I guess I’ll clean it up.

One Year Ago Today

One year ago today I made my blog a public thing. I had been writing throughout January silently to myself but I think I felt even more out of place as I was writing to no one. Making it go public was incredible, I was not so sure how people would react to reading poorly written posts about teenage angst or slightly bias and uneducated views about adoption. It turns out that despite this, people wanted to read about the truth no matter how raw or hard to take in it was. Not only were readers able to read all of this but my adventures outside of the adoption spectrum including education choices, jobs and opportunities. To be able to write whatever has been quite relieving and therapeutic. It makes me so happy to know that this blog is useful to people and entertains and delights.

Our year in review;

The first month that the blog went live (February 2012) I had over 2500 individual views with 445 views the first day. As posts were added sporadically the numbers went up and down but the whole year has accumulated over 10000 views and 550 visitors from 56 different countries. To me, that is insane. The first month I was ecstatic even just getting a few views a day.

My blog has been honored to be published on various websites and magazines and even online newspaper columns. The amount of people interested in this sort of thing is pretty cool.

Maybe it is because this blog is written from the perspective of a young person that makes it interesting, because as you can read my opinion changes rapidly. But I think that is important, I think that is what makes it real. Writing as an older adult I think would be more of a reflective thing rather than current. I think in order to see adoption from a younger point of view means to read it in the current time as it happens. I do not know how long I will write for but even I am surprised by how much my opinion has fluctuated throughout the year. Who knows, maybe you will get to read about my life twenty years from now when everything turns out okay.

A whole year later and I cannot thank readers and supporters enough for their interest. Whether you are waiting parent or a seasoned veteran or an adoptee yourself, I can only hope that your journey is one that you will be proud of and that your children will be proud of. At the end of the day all we really want is to love and be loved, find happiness and make our own mark on the world. Whether your mark is a blog, or a magazine or a photo album of pictures, let us make our lives the most authentic that it can be. Bring it on!

 

 

 

Things I Will Never Understand About Adoption

It’s Saturday night, I have just finished a dreadful poster project after a grueling 2hours, and the Calgary Flames and Edmonton Oilers are tied 2-2, my throat is sore and I haven’t taken my hair out of a bun since yesterday. So it is rant time. Ranting of course about the strange yet amusing things I have heard about adoption…buckle up.

I will never understand why adoption takes so much damn effort.

If labor pains could equate to adoption papers and lawyers and house checks and plane trips, not to mention the emotional ups and downs, it would equal to that of at least 2 labors. The paper work must clearly have been a big deal because I am eighteen years old and my mother STILL talks about how hard it was. And to think, she was the lucky one. Many people will probably go through this labor intensive paper work only to find out that their match was incomplete or that their soon-to-be-kid has been adopted or placed with someone else.

I will never understand why adoption processes take so long but naturally or via the “biological” way, one can pop little tyke out in 9 months and be considered a parent. No matter what.

So did you hear about the one where the kid was left outside in the middle of winter in nothing but pajamas? Or the one where the kid actually doesn’t have anything to eat for breakfast every day. Now I realize that not all adopted families are creme de la creme either, but does anybody see the loophole in this one? I am not out to debate whether or not adoption vs. biological families are better, but I am suggesting that this is incredibly discriminating towards children. My parents went through house checks and legal work and every step was taken to ensure I was not placed with insane people (though I still would like to see the evidence of this), therefore protecting my body. Now ‘Suzie’ and ‘Billy’ however live in a cardboard box, hardly go to school and eat mushrooms. Their dignity, and future for that matter was not protected.

I will never understand why some people feel that adoption was ‘made’ for them.

So you meet those people who when they were ten years old said, “I want to adopt when I grow up”, not really implying much. And then you meet those people who make it their obligation because they feel that they were made for it. Like it is a life-long planned mission to Mars. No. Adoption is not sacred, it is not something that makes you a ‘better’ person than somebody who doesn’t. You have just decided to give tradition an ol’ kick in the yeehaw and have kids a different way. Let’s not get mushy about it.

I will never know why people automatically assume that all adoptees biological parents are dead.

Apparently being adopted makes you the real-life equivalent of ‘Annie’ where you live in an orphanage with 30 other children whose parents are also gone and are ruled by a cruel Ms. Hannigan. What is actually the confusing part about this is having to explain that your parents are not dead, and then having them stare at you like, “soooo…if they’re not dead then why are you here….?”

I will never understand, even after all of this time and its increasing popularity, why they do not teach about adoption alongside regular human reproduction classes.

Forgive me if that just made you turn an awful shade of red. But really, there are people in High Schools who still do not know what adoption is about-only that Angelina Jolie had 3 kids that way. Yeah, so those upper elementary and middle school classes were incredibly awkward and uncomfortable but you know what’s even more awkward? Being asked if your mother slept with an Asian man, or if your Dad is your husband. Too much, too much.

I will never understand why they STILL have “Child of the Week” alongside “Pet of the Week, sponsored by the SPCA”.

Finding homes for children who don’t have them is important, but can we please give them their own section of the news or maybe not have their faces plastered on bulletins or TV screens like they’re shelter animals?

I will never understand why some parents introduce their children based on their entrance into their family.

“X & Y are my adopted children. And Z is my biological child.” Who really cares? X, Y, and Z don’t. But maybe if you continue to talk about them as if they are different species because of their genetic make-up they will. And then we can call the therapist.

There you go, I think I am going to go take my hair out of this bun and have a shower, I stink. Have a nice evening.

A Job to Love

Choose a job you love and you will never work a day in your life.

It’s funny how much this quote has come in handy over the last few years. I post it at least once a month. I have always had this idea that I wanted to be happy first and foremost and that money, though a luxury, was not my motivating factor in choosing my job. And time and time again, I find myself testing this theory. My mother told me that sometimes people get stuck doing jobs they dislike because they have bills to pay and a family to feed, and that I have been incredibly lucky at the fact that each and everyone of my jobs has been done with passion. I have been lucky, I see that now. It is funny though because the jobs that I do are jobs that when I was younger I would have frowned upon and made fun of because of their lack of university degrees required, or money earned. But the truth is I think I have grown from that. Possibly because I learned that math is hard and science is not my forte and that I am happy being outdoors, active and in a leadership role. My job does not require a University degree but does require a lot childhood development training and certifications. My job involves playing xbox with junior high students and making duct-tape wallets. It involves empowering preteen girls to pursue science despite society’s stereotypes about women’s intelligence, and to continue with sports through Go Girls programs. I love my job not because it makes a ton of money (because it doesn’t) but because it serves a purpose. If we can give preteens the support that sometimes is not given to them just because they are misunderstood, than we are opening doors for them to pursue careers that make them happy and successful at the same time. Something which perhaps their own parents failed to do themselves. If we can empower preteen girls to realize their potential in sciences or arts than we can help them seek out a career that leaves them fulfilled and challenged.

I think nowadays I see too many people working jobs they hate and not taking time for family or even themselves. The world we live in is demanding and we are forgetting to live. Many of the things we do today are things we have just settled for, and while attempting to pursue happiness may bring on incredible risk,  that is what living is. Risk. Dreaming. Passion. Routine is not a risk, nor is settling. I think as we find more responsibilities resting on our shoulders we forget what we were taught when we were younger. It is funny because it is what our own parents taught us, our parents who themselves might be settling. So we can see this in two ways, either we were told to dream when we were younger because we were irresponsible, naive, invalids, who had a youth to waste or because our parents lied, life is about growing up and realizing that dreams are dreams and somebody’s got to pay the bills. My job is to help young people realize that neither of these are true, despite their frequent appearances in our childhood and eventual adulthood. That is possibly the biggest battle, keeping the flame alive even though everyone and reality is trying to blow it out. And that is why I love my job, it is challenging but it has a purpose; to change the norm and reignite what has been lost. We blame society for screwing with our dreams, but we are society. The world is yours, kids, the world is ours.

Liebster Award

Hello All! I have been nominated for a Liebster Award again!

I have encountered the “Liebster” Award’s before and let’s just say I never really knew how it worked and never bothered to figure it out. But a kind reader has given me plentiful information about it and I am now following through! For those of you who do not know, the Liebster Award is given to a blog that has less than 200 followers, is relatively new and/or up and coming. If somebody receives an award there are rules to follow:

Each blogger nominated must post 11 things about themselves.

Then answer the 11 questions the tagger has asked.

Blogger must then create 11 questions of their own to ask the bloggers they decide to nominate.

They must choose 11 bloggers with less than 200 followers to nominate and link them on their blog post.

Bloggers must be notified of their award.

No tag backs!

-from “http://cinnamon-baby.blogspot.ca/2013/01/liebster-award.html”

So, here are 11 things about me:

1- I am Thai, but have lived in Alberta for as long as I can remember. Like my nominator, I love the mountains and perfection is taking a ski into a remote hut in the Rockie’s.

2-I am a gap year believer, mostly because I am taking one right now. I do not believe it would have been wise to jump into a program that I was not passionate about, and I have appreciated the work experience that I have gained from this year off.

3- I love to coach (canoe and kayak specifically), teach, anything that involves being active and having fun. While ‘fun’ is not my main motivating factor in my coaching philosophy I believe that success is fun, and working to receive success (at any level) is a worthwhile journey with worthwhile results.

4- I am a Daddy’s girl. From day one I was sittin’ on Dad’s lap and loving every minute of it.

5- I love my home but long to live by the ocean. Fresh salt water air is the cure to anything.

6- I have visited Thailand several times, volunteering at Elephant Sanctuaries (no riding!) and chilling out on beaches. While some may think that it was a humbling experience for me, seeing as I was born there, it was no more humbling than a tourist going to check out the hot spots.

7-My career destination is uncertain, though I would love to be happy.

8-I love working for the City of Calgary. I have received so many certifications applicable to all fields of work that I am interested in and have gained such knowledgeable work experience!

9-I bake when I am trying to avoid certain tasks, like studying or doing laundry. I also bake when I am in a bad mood, so exam breaks rendered me Martha Stewart!

10- I drive a beaten old thing, probably would be safer to ride a moped in snowy Calgary than drive that thing!

11- I say “bagel” differently, and my friends never let me forget it.

11 Questions From Gen:

1- What is your favorite movie? Soul Surfer. Okay, so maybe the acting is a bit sketchy and a teensy bit religious, but I watch it to escape from the cold Calgary air. It lets me be a bit imaginative.

2- What kind of student were you in elementary school? High achiever. I worked hard and expected high marks. Ironically, I did not do so well in math but I graduated so…

3- Your biggest success? So far, my biggest success was graduating High School. I had a lot of personal troubles at the end of Junior High and all through High School that I even doubted my ability to finish.

4- What is your oldest memory? Falling down the stairs in flip-flops holding a toy plane. It was a hospital visit, and I still have a scar on my hand from it.

5- Who was your hero when you were growing up? Mulan. Probably because she is Asian and incredibly bad-ass.

6- Describe a place you love close to your home. The Glenmore Reservoir. I spent Junior and High School either paddling in it, or running around it. It was my home away from home.

7- What’s your go-to meal to entertain friends? Fettuccine Alfredo.

8- One song on your playlist right now? “Home” by Phillips Phillips

9- Name one quality you hope one of your parents has passed on to you. My father’s kindness. I already know I exhibit almost all of my mother’s incredible passion and stubbornness which have served me well, but I hope I am kind like my father. He treats everyone, even those of have burned him, with a level of respect and kindness as if he knows that they have their own storms to walk through.

10- Are you more into Science or Arts? I would like to say Science because I dislike Art. But I am bad at Science and am imaginative art-wise. So…yeah…

11- How much time do you spend blogging and reading blogs each day? I try to read my regular blogs weekly, and update my blog every week or two.

Questions I want my nominees to answer (they’re not hard, trust me):

1- What is your idea of the perfect day?

2- If you could be a character in your favourite TV show, who would you be?

3- If money did not matter, what career would you pursue and why?

4- If you had a theme song that depicted your life, what would it be?

5- Most inspirational words of wisdom:

6- What is your favourite way to blow off steam?

7- What was the happiest moment in your life?

8-If you were meeting you for the first time, what would your first impression be like?

9-What are the most important lessons you have learned in life?

10- Who would you cheer on in a race, a cheetah or a gazelle?

11- If you were a category in Jeopardy, what would you be?

I know I am supposed to choose 11 blogs. Cripes, that is a lot. But for now I have only a few, check back for added ones!

http://lilybelles.blogspot.ca/

http://sydneyjoto.wordpress.com