Hate Creates More Hate

When I was a little girl, my Mafooka (grandfather) sent me a Valentine's Day card with the  Eiffel Tower on it. It was one of those cards that lights up and makes sounds. I loved it then and still do; to this day, it has always sat on my desk. When we were in China, it was on my desk. When we were in Oman, I hung it up on my wall. Now, it sits on my desk again. When I see it, it makes me think of my Mafooka.

Today, I was getting ready and I walked past my desk. I saw my Valentine's Day card and decided that I wanted to understand more about the Paris attacks. The attacks on Paris were awful! It breaks my heart to think so many were killed and injured. Through the news and through articles online I see that people are in full support of Paris. I love that so many people are taking a stand against the horrible people who committed this crime. However, I also see people blaming Muslims. Yes, the people who committed these horrible crimes were Muslim, but that doesn't mean that ALL Muslims are like this. That's like saying ALL Chinese people are good at math. I'm terrible at math! Many of my bestfriends are Muslim and none of them have never thought or talked about killing, bombing, etc. In fact, many are just as horrified about what happened in Paris as you and I are.

We talk about wanting peace for Paris, but how is hating on Muslims who had nothing to do with the attacks creating peace? It doesn't do anything but create more hate. I've had the opportunity to meet and get to know Muslims from the Middle East. They're a population of kind, giving, and friendly people. Sure, I've met crappy Muslims, but I've also met crappy Christians, Atheists, Catholics, etc. there are crappy people in every race, culture, and faith. You can't judge a faith by a small percentage of the people. I stand with Paris, but I do not stand for the hate that the Muslim population is facing. 

National Adoption Awareness Month

November is National Adoption Awareness Month and today (November 9th) is adoption day! From what I understand, this month is about helping people to better understand adoption. I've been VERY, VERY lucky in that all of my family and friends have always seen me as one of their own. I've always been a Mehaffey-Kultgen in their eyes. However, I have had people say to me, "Oh, you're a foster child!" They never say it in a malicious way, but I thought I would write about what I want people to better understand; adoption and foster care are not the same thing.

Don't get me wrong, foster care is an amazing thing, but it isn't the same as adoption. When I was in the 5th grade, someone asked me why I didn't look like my mom and I told them it was because I was born in China to two other people. My mom and dad adopted me and raised me in Texas. She then said, "Oh, I get it! She's your foster-mom!" No, Candace Michele Mehaffey-Kultgen is very much my real mom and John Edward Kultgen is very much my real dad. In my mind, they are more real than my biological parents. They're the ones who have raised me, taken care of me, and supported me! My biological parents gave me life, but my mom and dad taught me how to live it. They have always loved me and supported me unconditionally. I'm really lucky in that my parents have ALWAYS looked at me like I am one of their own because that's what adoption is. I may not be of their flesh and blood, but I am still their child and never for a moment have either of them made me feel any different.

One of the biggest difference is that foster care is temporary and my adoption is permanent. December 7th of 99' I became a Mehaffey-Kultgen and that can never be changed. No matter how mad I make them, they're stuck with me for life!!! In many cases, children that are put into foster care have abusive or unfit parents (money issues, personal issues, etc.). My mom and dad are not abusive or unfit in any way. Unlike foster parents, my parents are not given a monthly stipend to help with my care. (Too bad, that could really help with college tuition!) When I was in 6th grade, a boy told me that my parents purchased me at a convenience store. While I wasn't purchased at a convince store, my mom and dad did have to pay an adoption fee, unlike foster parents. 

These are just a few major differences between foster care and adoption, but above all, just like a woman who has given birth to their baby sees that child as their real child, I am my mom and dads real child. Just because someone else gave birth to me doesn't mean I am any less of a Mehaffey-Kultgen than my cousins are. Honestly, my hope for this blog post and this month is for more people to understand. Both foster care and adoption bring amazing opportunities to children, but they're not the same. I am and always will be a Mehaffey-Kultgen and I'm proud of it! 

"Not flesh of my flesh, Nor bone of my bond,

But still miraculously my own.

Never forget for a single minute, 

You didn't grow under my heart - but in it" 

-Fleur Conkiling Hegliger

Forever Grateful To The One Child Policy

Today, China has decided to end the one-child policy. This policy stated that families could only have one child and most families in China wanted boys. This led to thousands upon thousands of Chinese baby girls begin killed or given up for adoption, myself included.

Honestly, I have never hated the one-child policy. I'm actually immensely thankful to the one-child policy because it is the reason that I was put up for adoption. If I could go back in time I would not change a thing. I've seen the orphanages and I know what my life would have been like had I not been adopted. Since I was adopted, I've been given opportunities that parallel universe, non-one-child policy Alex could only dream of.

The news of China revoking the one-child policy didn't make me feel any different about my life. It didn't make me wonder what my life would have been like had the one-child policy been revoked before I was born, but it did make me sad for the lives of future Chinese baby girls. Since they won't be given up for adoption they won't know what they are missing out on, but I do. I know that growing up in China will be much harder for them. Don't get me wrong, I love China, but I know that as an American raised girl I have more opportunities than that of a Chinese raised girl. 

One Child

I'm sorry that I haven't posted in a while. I've been so busy with school and college apps. Anyway, I solemnly swear to do better in the future!!

*SPOILERS, but not big ones.*

Sundance recently released a TV show called One Child. As the name suggests, it's about the one child policy that is still going on in China today. It's way relaxed now, but it still exists. Anyway, the adoptee receives a message from a person in China telling her that her biological younger brother is being falsely convicted of murder. Her mother is asking for her help to correct the false conviction. The adoptee goes to China and meets her adopted mother for the first time. *Gasp* The mother didn't invite her! It was a friend. Even though her mother didn't invite her or contact her, her mother still wants her to help her younger brother.

I've been watching one episode a night on Netflix and it got me thinking, "What would I do if  my biological family contacted me?" I've honestly never thought about it because I didn't think they ever would. I've imagined the worst case scenario and the best.

Worst: They would want something from me. I know this sounds awful, but it is my worst case scenario. I've spent a lot of time in China and learned about the Chinese culture. They're all about the connections and bettering their lives and the lives of their family members. If I can help further their lives or make it better, they're all for it. I'm not so worried that my biological parents would want something. More my siblings because I was the one with more opportunities in life. Again, I know it's awful to think such a thing about people who are related to me, but I'm not naive and in Chinese culture it wouldn't be considered a bad thing.

Best (Also, what I hope for.): A situation like my moms. My parents would be so excited to meet me and we'd get along great! I'd gain two more parents and possibly one or more siblings. I'd finally get to know why they gave me up and I'd learn whose features I have inherited. Also, I'd get to learn my medical history. (Which would be nice, since I never know what to tell the doctor's office. :D) Sure, at first it would be hard, but eventually, it would be like my German family. We would vacation together and my future kids would get to have more cousins. In my best case scenario, I envision something like this.

To Tell or Not to Tell

I've been thinking a lot lately about parents who don't tell their kids they're adopted. To be honest, it's always bugged me that some people don't tell their kids. It's a bit hypocrital. Parents always tell their kids to tell the truth. When parents don't tell their kids, it's like they're lying to them.

I am super lucky because my parents have always told me I am adopted. I like to think that even if they hadn't told me, I would have known because I'm super Asian and they're not Asian. :D Regardless, I've always been really thankful that they were honest with me. If they hadn't been honest, I don't know if I would trust them as much as I do. 

If you're reading this and thinking of adopting or have adopted and haven't told your child, I beg you to tell them. They'll probably feel "different", I did, but one day they'll see that it's awesome being an adopted kid! Plus, as my mom always says, honesty is the best policy! 

My Real Parents

Through the years, I have been asked a lot about my "real parents". The questions are usually pretty funny and they are always asked with curiosity. I've always answered questions like this the same, "My real parents? You've met my mom and my dad lives in Texas." That is usually followed by, "No! The people who gave birth to you!" I usually respond to this with, "My biological parents? They live in China." I don't know my biological parents and that has never really bothered me. They're the people who gave birth to me (Well, my biological mother did. xD), but my mom and dad are the ones who have taken care of me.

When I was adopted, I inherited a crazy, fun, and loving family. I wouldn't trade them for the world and if someone asked if I would trade them to know my birth parents, my answer would be a big, fat NO! My parents, are my real parents and I have never felt the need to look for my parents because I know where they are. My mom is in the living room talking on the phone and my dad is at his home in Waco. They may not have given me their DNA, but they have given me their unconditional love and support. 

The Story of Alex

I told y'all my post titles wouldn't be as catchy as the first. I guess I should start with my story. Scratch that, my mom's story. My mom was adopted too. She was adopted from Germany when she was about two. Mom's biological family history is really interesting, her mother was jewish and her father's family were pro-Hitler. Her maternal grandparents were both in concentration camps, as was her mom. After the war, my German grandmother was living with a family member. During that time period, the country was trying to rebuild. By doing that, only so many people could live in an apartment/house. My mom was the youngest and so she was put up for adoption.

Her adopted mom and dad couldn't have children. My grandfather was a high ranking officer in the Air Force. He and my grammy were stationed in Germany. They had already adopted my aunt, but they wanted another child. In the German orphanages, they dressed all the kids the same and gave them all the same haircut. My mom took to my grandfather immediately and my grandfather took to my mom immediately. He said, "That is the ugliest boy I have ever seen. He'll make for a fine son." Low and behold, my mom was a girl! By the time they started the adoption process, they already loved her and thus, my mom was adopted!

I was adopted from Wuhan, China when I was 9 months old. On the day that my mom and dad were going to meet me, mom got into some trouble. (Through these different posts you'll start to get to know my mom and this next part will make complete sense.) Mom had waited so long to have a baby and because of this she wanted to see me right away. Her and a few other moms decided to sneak into the room where the babies were. One of the nannies brought a baby over and placed her in my mom's arms. Guess what! It wasn't me!!! (Mom told me this story when I was growing up and she told me that she knew that baby wasn't her baby. She said that my grammy told her that she would have this feeling. A feeling of just knowing that this baby was her baby.) The director of the orphanage came in and shooed all the moms out. A little while later, all the parents were brought into the room. This time my nanny placed me in her arms. Mom said she knew then that I was the baby in the picture she received. (On Pearl Harbor day earlier in the year, mom received a picture of me. *Side note* Mom told me that she received two pictures from the orphanage. One was of another baby and one was of me. Mom said she chose the ugly baby. She told me that she chose the ugly baby because this method worked for her father.) While I'm not fond of being called the ugly baby, I'm glad that method worked because if it hadn't I wouldn't have the awesome family that I do have!

The first picture my mom and dad received of me. It is ridiculously small and in black and white.