Locked in a Tower?
June 2006
We are now in the home study process which means that a social worker needs to complete a home visit to see if we are “suitable” to adopt a child. I am feeling quite nervous because the designated social worker, whose past history was in crisis intervention, has already sent us a couple of emails that have 911 written all over them! Needless to say, we are on edge about whether or not we are capable of meeting the needs of a child from another culture. Still, we both know that we’ve heard from the Lord; He does not see racial boundaries like us.
Today, is our “lucky” day! Though I had received an email earlier in the week from our social worker that advised me to not clean my house. I didn’t think that this meant to leave the cobwebs dangling from the ceiling corners. And so, like every mother, we need a motivator to clean our house now and then, and this was the “carrot” that motivates me to hop around the house cleaning here and there until everything sparkles. The pungency of the Pine Sol even beckons both Martha Stewart and Mr. Clean to join us!
As I was anxiously awaiting our first visit from the social worker, Jonah, my youngest, has a “blow out” in his diaper. Of course, the knock on the door came instantaneously! As she, the social worker, stepped into the house, the reprimands for cleaning the house ambushed me before I could even get up from changing Jonah. Fortunately, Jeff walks in before my mind can further entertain thoughts of what “she” will put in the home study: “Type A mother excessively cleans house to create chaos and dysfunction in family setting. Home study denied.”
Moments later, we find ourselves sitting out on our deck, trying to enjoy the cool summer breeze while she began to interview us. I didn’t mind the cultural questions, or the ones about the trauma that a child feels once they leave one country to enter another. This discussion topic was certainly relevant except for the fact that the majority of the questions had an “interrogation” feel to them; these questions certainly did not scream out compassion by any means. It became apparent that she disapproved of not just our clean house but also the fact that we were Christians. Like a witness on the stand, she fired off to me, “What will you do when your daughter, at sixteen, wants to become a Buddhist?’
At this point, I was so tired of the intensity of the conversation that I looked at her and said, “Why I am going to lock her up in a tower until she comes to her senses.” Of course, I was kidding and just wanted to “ease the tension” that was dominating our conversations. But as soon as this sentence paraded out of my mouth, Jeff quickly changed the subject to Chinese culture and how we, as a family, were going to embrace it. Finally, a smile emerged along with great anticipation of what Jeff was going to say next–causing both of us to lean forward with ears wide open.
“Well, there’s a wonderful, educational video at my school that will be perfect for the boys.” She nodded her head at Jeff, and like a dog ready to devour a delicious bone, she was hanging onto every word he was saying. It was all over, though, once Jeff clapped his hands and said, “Yes, it’s a video from our school library called Big Bird Goes to China!” Needless to say, the smile dissipated along with any sense of humor.
A month later . . .
The lesson in picking social workers is just as important as maintaining a good sense of humor. I should have listened to my gut reaction about our first social worker and requested someone else immediately. Later, in the process, we ended up with a nurturing, understanding social worker who stayed with us for the entire journey. But . . . would I have changed this experience? Absolutely not. After all, it makes for an entertaining story not to mention that video that Jeff mentioned–Big Bird Goes to China? Well, it wasn’t that bad!
