I was reading this post about this book over at Harlow’s Monkey.  It has been a while since I have felt moved to write much about race and culture and our family.  I used to write about it a lot, so I was thinking a little about why it isn’t in the forefront of my writing anymore.

When I first started writing this blog, we were a young family.  M was only one year old.  We didn’t have any traditions, a parenting agenda, a plan.  We were just making it through the day.  Then when we (I) started researching adoption in earnest, I started reading a lot about the issues around transracial adoption.  I realized that there were some parallels in the experience of transracial adoptees,  second generation and mixed race kids.

Not everything is the same, but there are common threads.  Loss of culture, difficulty finding a place in the American racial landscape, inability of parents to relate and identify the significance of these losses/issues with their parents.  I was reading and thinking a lot about my kids and how their race(s) and half-transracial (mostly transcultural) adoption would  affect them.

Mr. A and I had talked about wanting to keep his family’s Chinese/Taiwanese culture alive for our children.  Certainly, our children will be mostly American, but we wanted them to know where they came from.  In addition to keeping the bits and pieces of tradition from Mr. A’s family intact, we wanted more.  (A lot was lost due to the chaos/craziness/dysfunction/mental illness in Mr. A’s family and the bits that remained seemed a little disjointed and incoherent.)  I have read that this often happens with second generation kids, they become much more interested in their parents’ home culture once they have their own 3rd generation kids.  After I started understanding more about racial identity and culture, I wanted my kids to be thoroughly grounded in US culture, but with a strong understanding of their ancestral/culture too.

I can’t remember where, maybe in “Does anybody else look like me?“, I read that mothers’ cultures were much more likely to be passed on than fathers’.  Given the role women often play as primary caregivers, I guess that makes sense, but I also thought there was more too it than that.  Mothers most often prepare the food, mothers manage the holidays, mothers buy most of the stuff in the house, mothers read most of the books and tell most of the stories.  Mothers are the cultural heart and soul of a family.

So where did that leave us?  The culture I was raised with was white midwestern culture. How was I supposed to have a role in passing on/teaching a culture that was foreign to me?  (I am reminded me of this old post which is still so very true today.)

I started out doing what I do with anything new, which is researching the heck out of it. I read and read and read.  I read history, biographies, books on culture and traditions.  I already had a headstart because I had started my research when I visited China briefly with Mr. A so many years ago.  I understand how the language works and recognize it, though I don’t speak it well. I had a lot of familiarity with Chinese culture, but it was all head-knowledge, not lived culture.

As M grew bigger, we started incorporating more Asian/Chinese/Chinese American stuff into our daily lives.  We added holidays and created new family traditions (the Moon Festival and Chinese New Year).  We added Chinese language tutoring.  We sent M to the “Asian” preschool.  All my researching and our adding new traditions made me the butt of more than a few jokes from my Asian brother-in-law, but we had a plan and we kept moving forward.

I think the tide really started to turn when we added Chinese school and Chinese dance class.  With Chinese school, we faltered a little at first, trying to find our place in the local Chinese community. We made friends, not “chinese friends” but real friends with several other families who shared similarities ours and who shared a lot of our concerns about teaching our kids Chinese, staying in touch with China/Chinese culture, etc.

But the biggest turning point with Chinese school was a particular argument Mr. A and I had.  Mr. A struggled with his own feelings of annoyance and other mixed feelings about Chinese school.  He didn’t want to spend every Sunday afternoon there (neither did I, actually) and he kept coming up with excuses to avoid it.

One day, we had a knock down drag out fight about it and I told him that if he wanted our kids to be comfortable around Asian and Chinese kids, HE was their ticket to fitting in. I would keep showing up because I thought Chinese school was important for the kids, but I would  never be able to help our kids blend in.  HE had to show up.  HE had to claim their place at the table until they are old enough to do it themselves. If he wanted them to be proud of being Chinese, HE had to walk the walk, talk the talk, and take the lead.

And bless his heart, he stepped right up to the plate and did it.

Not only did Mr. A arranged his schedule to take M to Chinese language class each Sunday, he convinced his dad to come with them and help M with her lessons too.   (I do dance class so I can chat with my friends.)  Mr. A stuck his neck out and learned to cook more traditional Chinese food, which eventually made me brave enough to try again myself.  (Prior to that and before I got my new cookbooks, my attempts were TERRIBLE!)  And he takes the lead on Chinese holidays: explaining why the traditions are the way they are, leading the ancestor prayer, talking about his family’s own history, etc.

So now, we are living our new normal.  While we were a little clunky and unsure at first, now, we are comfortable with the level of committment, culture and community we have created.  We know our girls won’t ever be “Chinese” exactly, but we think we are laying a solid foundation for them as Chinese Americans.  We hope that the strands of culture and connection we are weaving through their memories and their day-to-day lives will serve them well as they grow into adulthood.

I haven’t read the book yet, but I will. Already, I can tell I will feel defensive about my own inadequacies but I will read it because knowledge is power.  Like all parents, adoptive parents included, I am trying to do the best for my children.  I have known from very early on, I will never be adequate to this task.  It is a relief, to be able to share this burden with Mr. A.