Visiting the village...by guest blogger, Kayla Cervenka

I promised you a guest post and here it is!!  I love the idea of sharing our thoughts and fears with each other and adore this woman and her heart.  She has been in Uganda for about two weeks now and will be staying for about 4 and a half months doing an internship with Sole Hope.  This post is from the day we did resettlement and it was quite an experience!  Can't wait for you to enjoy it from her perspective...

It was my first time ever visiting a village in Uganda. I was really excited for this new experience but also a little unsure as people kept telling me it would be a long trip there.  I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. All I knew was that I was so excited that these children who had been living at the Outreach house were finally able to be resettled with their families! These children who came to Sole Hope, severely affected by jiggers, are now jigger free and full of hope! It is a beautiful transformation to see and it is why resettlement is such an exciting part of what Sole Hope does.

We loaded up the van and headed out towards the village.  There were 21 adults and children, and three babies in the van so it was quite a tight fit. I‘ve come to realize that this is quite typical for Uganda, so I just went along with it as a tiny one-month-old baby slept in my lap.

Eventually we went from pavement to red dirt roads and the ride got a little bumpier. We headed into Kamuli and along the way we dropped some people off while others hopped into the car. I was quite confused as random people kept coming in the car and at one point there were 25 of us all crammed into the van. Once again, I didn’t ask questions but just went along with it because hey, this is normal (I think)! As we headed further into the different villages children would wave and yell “Muzungu!” There was lots of smiling and waving out the van window and we passed the children. When it came time to drop off a few of the kids being resettled, we would pull over to the side and they would hop out. Before the children could even get out of the van there was already a crowd of children from the village gathered together outside our van. They would all just stare at us, eyes wide full of wonder. Many of them would wave and smile, occasionally saying something in Lusoga. It’s funny to me. There is often a language barrier, which can be hard, but I find it so beautiful that people can still radiate joy and love to one another without even a single word.  There was so much staring, smiling and giggling between one another as we passed through the villages. My mouth hurt from smiling so much but my heart was filled with so much joy!

We kept on bouncing along the bumpy red dirt roads, dropping children off along the way to their respective villages.  As we dropped of one of the children for resettlement, I got out of the van and there was a little girl staring at me. Her beautiful brown eyes looked interested yet terrified at the same time. I held my hand out and smiled, reassuring her that I wasn’t going to hurt her. As I slowly walked towards her she sprinted in the other direction and hid behind her mom. She was scared of me. I was foreign to her. She had never seen a white person. I was slightly in shock. What would it be like to never have seen someone that looked so differently than yourself? I realized it must have been like looking at a monster of some sort. Her mom reassured her that I was okay and with the help of her mother, the little girl slowly walked towards me, still looking quite unsure. I kept smiling
with my arm outstretched reassuring her that it was okay, even though she could not understand a word I was saying. She finally grabbed my hand and timidly said hello in Lusoga as she bowed down.  Bowing is a sign of respect around here, and as she knelt to the ground I stopped down beside her. As we knelt there, hand in hand, I couldn’t help but become flooded with emotion. This precious little girl has never seen a world beyond what she already knows. Her village, her people, only her own skin color. But here we were, from seemingly two different worlds, hand in hand, kneeling on the red dirt together speaking our own languages.  Yet even still, there was such a beautiful connection between us in that moment.

I loved my first experience of visiting the villages. It was all new to me and I loved getting to soak it all in. From seeing children return to their families, to experiencing a little girl’s courage overcome her fear, to simply being packed into a van with 25 people, it was an experience I will never forget.

I get it, we're different.

I haven't posted in a while because once we actually got a court date in Uganda we went underground with our updates for our security and just general privacy about our case.  That being said, we are now home from Uganda with our little boy, Jonah, and are a happily transitioning family of four!  Part of that transition clearly includes the fact that Jonah is black and we're white (sshhhhh....don't tell anyone).  In our (short) time home we've already experienced the looks, the stares, the hush hush of comments, etc.  I'm ok with it.  We knew it was coming.  I don't think you can really prepare yourself for it but at least we had an awareness it would be there.

The first week we were home my husband and I took our new son to the school where my husband teaches. He works at a predominantly black middle school in a nearby city to ours.  After we visited his fellow teachers, we decided to go to Cookout (a fast food place) close to his school.  As we're sitting in the drive thru with the windows down I see the kid working the window turn around and say something to the girl to which she mouthed "black baby" with a shocked look on her face.  Now don't get me wrong, I get it.  This is not something you see everyday.  And we were in their neighborhood.  But from there she did everything she could to look and then found a reason to come to the window to ask us "would you like ketchup with your order" just so she could see for herself.  By no means does this upset me.  I just don't really want people taking turns looking and staring like we're a circus act. I get it, we're different.

My son is a minority.  Not only because of his skin color but because of the skin color of his parents.  He will have to deal with racism like I have never or will never experience.  He will have to deal with parents who he KNOWS doesn't understand the extent of what he's dealing with.  On top of that, he will have to deal with people continually questioning his family because he doesn't look like the rest of us.

Every white person in the world should have to go spend time in a place where they truly are the minority.  I know I didn't experience even a portion of what he will in his life.  But everyone should have to at least know what it feels like to be stared at because you're different, feel out of place because no one looks like you, feel like people are burning into you with their eyes wondering what you're doing there or if you just found yourself in the wrong place, feel like your safety is constantly in question because you don't know who you can and can't trust.

It's not like these are new concepts.  The fact that every time I question what we're watching on tv because there's no one in the sitcom/cartoon/movie that's black.  The fact that I am constantly thinking about if/when we move what school district we'll be in to ensure there is a diverse population.  The fact that regardless of who or what I thought about the Trayvon Martin case, a young black boy is dead.  I do want this responsibility and everything that comes with it.  These are things that SHOULD concern me because my son is black and I want the best for him.  But here's the thing.  Even if you're white.  Even if you don't have a black kid.  Even if you don't know one single person of another color in.this.whole.world.  These things should concern you too.

A long awaited blessing...

I have waited a long time to write this post.  And some would expect that it would be so filled with joy that you would want to gag!  Trust me, it is.  We are OVERJOYED to share with you that we have received a referral for a little boy!  He is just a bit younger than Jack which is what we requested but not by much!  In fact, we will be celebrating his birthday without him soon (but you can imagine what a birthday he will have once he gets here)!  I wish I could show you a picture of his beautiful face.  However, until we come home, we will call him baby J and I will not be sharing any pictures online.  I can tell you this, because of his age, we have decided to keep his given name (but it does work out well because it is a "J" name too)!  So we will not be calling him James as previously discussed, and you will hopefully learn his real name soon enough!

When I saw his face, I almost cried.  I couldn't believe it.  I think I was in shock.  We were actually out of town that weekend.  We were staying with friends, Jack was staying in the same room as us, and he hadn't slept well that night.  It was 5:30 in the morning and Jack was trying to crawl into bed with us...I was resisting this with all that was within me because I knew at that point it was all over and none of us were going back to sleep.  Since I felt this was inevitable, I grabbed my phone and took a look...and there it was.  An email from our point of contact with his beautiful picture, name, and a (small) snippet of information about him.

Ok, now I have shared my joy with you, but please, bear with me when I share the rest of my heart. Over the past year, our eyes have been opened to the joys and sorrows of international adoption and while we are ecstatic to have a referral, we ask that you pray harder now than ever.

As we've stated time and time again, our number one priority is the welfare of children, orphaned or otherwise.  In the US, there are pretty clear standards as to what makes a child "adoptable".  Not as much the case in many international countries...especially non-Hague countries.

We have received a referral directly from a babies home instead of from our agency.  We have chosen not to work with our former agency however we believe that agency is still amazing and working for the best interest of children in Uganda.  We did not choose to move forward with them for many reasons which I would be more than happy to discuss, but not in a blog.  Just note that we would be very happy to work with them again, and to recommend them to families looking to adopt in the future.  It's just not the route we are taking for us for now.

We have a referral.  But now is just the beginning.  The waiting will still continue and now is the waiting that is the scariest for me.  As a mother of a beautiful two year old ginger, I go through a range of emotions regarding adoption all together.  How difficult it must be to give up your child for adoption.  How you must run through a plethora of reasons and wonders as to the right decisions for your child.  So many coercive people and pressures in other countries.  The horror stories I've heard from other adoptive families.

Here's where we stand.  We are walking through the process with our babies home, our lawyer, and some amazing and supportive friends God has placed in our life (some of which who have or are going through this too).  We have been working to get everything together to submit for a court date.  This has included our lawyer in Uganda speaking to the living family members of the child referred to us.  At any point in time, if any one of those family members speaks up and says they want to care for the child, we will lose the referral.  Of course that would be heartbreaking, we already love this child and want him here with us.  Yet, while we are torn by our emotions, we would never want you to pray that his family doesn't want him.

Next we wait on a court date and once we know that, we know when we get to travel!!  I may or may not be writing between now and whenever we travel.  Communications at this point get iffy because in reality, this is not our child until we have legal guardianship in Uganda.  This means talking about him in any sense can put our case in jeopardy.  Once we travel we will be setting up another means of communication while we are in the country and at that point, if you are interested in getting our updates, I'll publish how people can contact us for access.

So hold on to your butts!  It's about to be a wild ride!!  We covet your thoughts and prayers!!

dynamics of a transracial family

What does that title even mean?  I almost titled it "The 'n' word" but thought better of it but that's what this post is really about.  Not just the word, but the subject.  It's something that has been on my mind/heart lately.  Not sure if you guys watch Parenthood but I so very much appreciated and was impressed that they dealt with this this past week.  But what I'm looking for is truly more feedback and input from you guys!

If it's not clear at this point, we are adopting a little boy from Uganda.  He will be less than two when we comes to live in our home (I hesitate to say when he becomes our son because in our minds he already is that).  So if you don't know us, our family with be made up of two white adults, a toddler ginger, and a baby/toddler African.  And while we have thought about, discussed, and even begun to put some things in place to ensure that our little Jack and James will see people of different colors and backgrounds around in them as friends, and in different jobs, roles, and experiences, there will be things that James will go through that we (and Jack) will never be able to understand.

The premise of the part of Parenthood I referred to earlier is that Jabar (a child of mixed race) hears a rapper say the slang form of the "n" word.  His father (who is white) attempts to handle it but does so very poorly, purely due to his lack of understanding.  The father informs the mother (who is black) and she decides to sit down and have a conversation.  It was great how she handled it and it taught me that we are not prepared to have that discussion.  But it is a very real conversation that will need to happen and one that we will need some help with.  We can bring our baby home and he will be our son through and through but the best thing we can do as his parents is to make sure he has the resources he needs to grow and understand the life before him.  I'm sure he will be discriminated against.  I'm sure he will be made fun of for having white parents among other reasons.  I'm sure there will be hardships that he faces that we, as white middle class people, never had to.  And it breaks my heart that I will not be able to protect him from all those things.  But the best thing we can do is, when the time is right, to be open and honest and give him what he needs...and to understand that that may not come from us.

So this is just me trying to be open about our future child and do our best to give him the life he deserves.  If you have any suggestions or recommendations about how to broach this topic, what should be said in this conversation, or anything in this arena, please feel free to leave a comment or message me and let us know.  And thanks for loving our family!!