Diversity

Diverse by definition is: differing from one another OR composed of distinct or unlike elements or qualities. I just love that word. It just sums up everything I love about life. Its why I find myself attracted to people that are so unlike me....even if I don't agree with someones "unlike elements" I am still drawn to them to figure out why they think the way they do. I know I am a very open minded person when it comes to the way other people live. I feel like what people do in their own home is their business as long as they aren't hurting anyone. I see know reason to judge someone by who they pray to or if they fall in love with someone of the same sex or just because they were born with a different color skin than mine....to me we are all people. We are all people that have a story we could share with the world....some have had harder struggles than others but we all have a story. Sometimes we just need to be quiet long enough about our own opinions and listen to someone else's story so we can learn from it.

And that's what diversity training was all about....listening to others stories. We opened up the class as we had done before...introducing ourselves....starting with Leyla. It was a relief to see her. I am not sure what it was about her but she just had a calming spirit that made me feel more at ease so when she was in the classes I could breath a little easier. As we went around the room it came to us for introductions and my husband did the talking. He told them who we were and that we were here to find a child we could give a loving home to. He didn't mention the infertility...he just mentioned the love. So right on cue I sat there with tears in my eyes. I tried to be cool about it...but I am not cool in so many ways so I just looked away and tried to not make eye contact with anyone...of coarse I was headed into code purple mode but the other people in the class didn't know what that meant...so I should be safe. Or at least those were my thoughts!

This time there was no play-doh or crayons on the table...this time there was a basket full of small pieces of paper. Each piece of paper had a scenario on it of a case that had actually come into the system. Each of us was going to stand in front of the class and role play with our scenario. We were going to read a scenario and then talk about it as a group. We didn't know it but the scenarios didn't say how it ended. We were just going to judge the situation off the information given. I was fascinated with all of it....I couldn't wait to hear some actual cases so I could see what we were up against. ...however I did hate role playing because I am not much of an actress and hate being in front of a crowd...I am more of an anonymous author but I went along with it!

The first one was about a biological mother that had lost her job and her and her 8 year old daughter had become homeless. They were living in their car for months when a teacher at school figured out the little girl and her mother were living in a car and called social services. When social services got involved they offered to help the mother by getting her some housing assistance and helping her find a job. The mother refused any help from the county and after months of the county trying to get the mother to help herself social services no choice but to take her 8 year old daughter away from her. I couldn't figure out why a mother would let her child go....why wouldn't she fight? Especially when being offered help?? The more I thought about the situation the more upset I became.

Now don't get me wrong I know I can also be very judgemental. I am very open minded as I said before but I am also human! And altho I am open minded about many things there are a few things I am very passionate about and only see it as black or white. When it comes to abuse of children or neglect I have no sympathy for parents that don't protect their children. I don't care if it happened once or everyday...to me it is totally unacceptable.

Growing up I had a stepfather that had grown up in an abusive home and because he had been hurt as a child....he knew no other way than to hurt us. I can see the cycle now as an adult and I can logically see how he ended up being the way he was....but it doesn't change how I felt as a child. It doesn't change how I thought of myself then or even how I few myself as an adult and it especially doesn't change how it damaged my spirit. I could tell a thousand stories about my childhood and probably 998 are stories that would be of being abused because that's all I remember. My mom likes to reassure me that there were good times but all I remember are the bad times. He ruined every birthday, holiday or major event in my life until I was 18. So if you ask me to have compassion for parents that hurt their children...I can't!

I could only feel for this 8 year old little girl as I heard the story. So when Leyla saw the anger in my eyes she called on me to share my feelings. A million things were going through my mind. Like.... how did this lady get to have a child and she is just giving her up and here I am going thru all this crap to be a mom.....or what will happen to this little girl now...she is 8 will she ever find a permanent home? People like adopting babies not older kids...how could a mother do this? As my mind raced and I heard Leyla call my name I looked up at her and I simply said...I don't know how a mother could do that! Leyla smiled sympathetically and said...are you sure that's all you think? And then before I could open my mouth I was hearing my husband's voice. He was coming in to save me...he said...look we can't have children and now we are hearing about a woman that won't even take a gift she has been given. He said...It pisses me off and I am sure my wife would agree. That's when my mouth opened up and I manged to squeak out...I agree!

The class was silent. Everyone was staring at us. When they weren't looking at us they were looking to Leyla for a response. I don't know if silence was because they just figured out we couldn't have children or because we were so honest....but it was overwhelming for me...I was feeling very judged in that room of strangers. Then after what seemed like three hours Leyla said...that was my first response too. Anger and rage...she said I remember yelling at a coworker about this case. She said...I couldn't imagine what this mother was thinking! We had tried everything to help her and we got nothing from her. She wouldn't even take the first step for us! Then a couple of months after this woman's child was place in foster care we found out she had died from HIV! After all that we found out she was helping her child be placed in a loving home because she knew she was dying and she didn't have any family to take the little girl.

I was overwhelmed with emotion....I was wrong this mother was trying to help her child. If only I had just been quiet enough to listen to someone else's story...but I was only hearing my own! That mother taught me a lot that day.