When the Family Tree includes Unexpected Fruit

Children love banging out music. From their first toddler foray wielding spoon against a pot or a pan, they respond with joy, enthusiasm and persistence. But for some kids music offers much more than an outlet. It is who they are and how they connect to their deepest feelings and express themselves. Melba Liston was one such child. She connected with her talent at a very young age. Little Melba and her Big Trombone by Katheryn Russell-Brown illustrated by Frank Morrison is based on her life.

Born in 1926 in an environment filled with jazz, blues, and gospel, music dominates her life. Eventually it brings her all over the world. Music also presses Melba to face the realities of prejudice and racial separation that dominated that part of history. Melba’s story inspires and glows with the power of following one’s passion, the thrill of fulfilling one’s dreams. She overcame great difficulty not only in terms of personal challenges but also in terms of the racial realities of that era. This serves as a model for the power of vision, commitment and determination. Her success was not magical nor without challenges. It occurred as a result of hard work.

Morrison’s award-winning** illustrations brilliantly further the story. The effort and energy Melba expended come alive in the pictures. Dwarfed by her trombone, seven-year-old Melba struggled to master it, to release the music that lay dormant in the instrument. Her family encourages her to dare to be the best musician she can become, to take risks, and to ignore those who would try to hold her back. Melba blazed a trail for female musicians. “She was one of the first women, of any race, to become a world-class trombone player.” The story clearly portrays the immense power of an innate talent and how compelled a child feels to develop her abilities.

The AQ* (Adoption-attunement Quotient) potential in this story is easy to capture. This story celebrates a child’s innate talents and it highlights how her family encouraged and helped develop her gift. As adoptive parents we have the same opportunity– a duty really– to look for the hidden talents that lie within our children–the gifts of their genetic heritage. Some families may find this effortless to accomplish. Perhaps their child’s talents meld right in with the generational patterns of the family, for example, when an athletically-gifted child is adopted into a sport-loving family.) Or, the opposite might be true a bookish, creative child more at ease with a journal, drawing pencil or paintbrush joins the same family. This mismatch can be a source or tension or it can be an opportunity to broaden the family’s identity, to embrace this new “flavor” to notice and appreciate it. Whether it is a stretch or a no-brainer match, a child’s talents are a blessing, a light to be fostered and nurtured. One of the greatest gifts we can give a child is to validate them–their thoughts, feelings, talents and their differences. When our children were grafted to our family trees, we all became permanently linked, permanently changed.

In Florida, where Casey and I live, nurseries frequently graft varieties of trees. One popular creation is called a “cocktail tree*.” Farmers choose a sturdy, vibrant citrus tree and then graft branches of limes, oranges and lemons. When the mature tree blooms and fruits, it produces not only the fruit of the parent plant. Each branch remains true to its DNA: the orange branch produces oranges; the lime branch yields limes and the lemon branch bears lemons. Nurtured by the strength of the root stalk, each of the grafts reaches maturity as a healthy expression of its potential. I would assert that this is what we wish for our children: that they become the best version of themselves instead of a hollow imitation of an idealized set of expectations.

*In other parts of the country a similar process produces fruit salad trees that include apple varieties or other fruit combinations.)

** (He won the Coretta Scott King Honor Award for 2105.)

From Korea to America, Now Who Am I?

The Name Jar by Yangsook Choi is a book that has an interesting, yet subtle adoption connection. Although it features a Korean girl, she is NOT an adoptee. Unhei moves from Korea to the United States. The Name Jar also presents some Korean cultural elements as part of the story: the beautifully carved name block presented as a treasured gift from Unhei’s grandmother, the foods, the calligraphy and the ethnic neighborhood near her home.

Like many adoptees who made the same journey, she must learn a new language, adapt to a new country and culture plus discover where she fits in this new world.

Initially, Unhei decides that the easiest way to smooth out her “difference” is to surrender her Korean name in favor of a name that sounds more American and easy to pronounce. She invites her classmates to make suggestions for her new name and place them in a jar. She allows herself one week to decide.

The other children fill the jar with their selections. Unhei spends the week trying them on. Everyone is excited—so, mission accomplished, right? Not quite. She discovers that the value of a name far exceeds ease in spelling or pronunciation; it signifies the person’s essence. She determines the only name that suits her, is Unhei–her own. She embraces her name, shares its meaning (Grace) with her classmates. Readers will recognize the importance of being, liking and accepting oneself.

What is the AQ* (Adoption-attunement Quotient) of this book? How does it speak to adoptive families? The most obvious connection is the story line that features moving from Korea to the United States and the common experience inherent in such a significant transition. Another important asset is the honoring of the Korean culture and traditions and of taking pride in one’s heritage. Finally, The Name Jar features a Korean character, as well as a diverse cast of schoolmates and neighbors. Hooray for #Diversity!

A Family Project based on “The Best Part of Me” by Wendy Ewald

Kids sometimes have difficulty appreciating their own “beauty.” This is particularly true of kids who have experienced “Tough Starts.” Consider sharing the book, “The Best Part of Me” a collection of photographs by Wendy Ewald. She asked third, fourth and fifth grade students to choose which part of themselves they liked best and then they shared their thoughts about their choice and posed for a picture.

The prose is not polished. (The text is written by the children.) But, the children’s genuine feelings shine through. Much is revealed about how they view themselves, what they value, and how they identify their place in their families, communities and the world.

This would make a great family project. It presupposes that there is something that the child values about themselves. Perhaps it will assist them in appreciating many. Join in the fun and snap pictures of your “assets.” This is the time to lay down any self-judgments about yourself. Lead the way. Snap a picture of those arms that have embraced your kids, the lap in which they’ve snuggled, the shoulder on which they’ve cried. This exercise can open your mind as much as it inspires the children.

Put aside worries of being “enough” and model an enthusiastic self-acceptance. Write down your thoughts. Consider poetry, a song, a letter. Let the acceptance flow. Gather everything into a family “book.” Decide with whom you will share it. Remember, your kids will be watching; they will sniff out any self-judgment you have. This is the perfect activity to teach them self-appreciation, to break free of arbitrary—and unreasonable—societal standards of beauty. You are the model, the teacher, the leader and they are your most important students. What greater gift can you present them than to value and appreciate themselves.

I’ll lead by example. My favorite parts of me: my smile and …