Today I’m grateful for all of the caseworkers, therapists, decision makers, donors, legislators, volunteers and adoptive parents who “see the sun” and give it space to shine.

You may think
I am a shadow,
But inside
I am a sun.

Damia Gates
Grade 4, Allendale Elementary School, California

Brian recalls his initial meeting with Benjamin, who smiled, yelled, stomped his feet, screamed and refused to talk. In fact, experts had predicted that Benjamin might never speak…At their first meeting, Brian sat quietly across the room, holding a teddy bear and a book. After approaching him, giggling and running away repeatedly, little Benjamin shyly climbed into Brian’s lap, placed his hand on Brian’s face, and said, “Daddy!”

….It must have been a seminal moment for the little boy. When Brian recently asked Benjamin what his greatest memory is about the adoption process, he stated, “I remember calling you ‘Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!’ because I was so excited.”

Voice For Adoption shared Brian and Benjamin’s story with members of Congress through its annual Adoptive Family Portrait Project.

Voice for Adoption is a national advocacy organization, based in Washington DC. Nicole Dobbins, it’s Executive Director, knows what she is talking about when she describes the children in foster care. A few years ago she was one of them.

She wrote, “Children in foster care especially deserve, and want more than anything, for someone to hold them close to their hearts, nurture and cherish them. It is amazing what miracles can do and how severe trauma can be overcome when these children are placed in such an environment where they are loved, embraced and given an opportunity to flourish.”

Click here for more information on Voice for Adoption.

It’s a legal process. It is a social process (extended family, neighbors, friends). And it is an emotional process (for everyone).

Janeen’s foster parents were pretty excited when they told her they’d decided to adopt her. They’d thought about it for a long time. And they were ready to make a permanent commitment to love her, keep her safe, and make her part of their family for always.

Since Janeen was a teenager, Chuck and Judy knew her reaction could range from elation to anger. But she projected a ho-hum sort of response. And she let the process proceed. The family went to court, the judge finalized the adoption. And Janeen went back to school.

On the surface of daily living not much had changed.

Later that year Janeen and her mom were out running errands for the family, when Janeen stopped and caught her breath. She pointed to a specific window in an apartment building and said, “That’s where my first mom lives. I used to live there.”

The two stood and stared at the building for a few minutes. Then Judy asked her daughter what she wanted to have happen. Janeen said, “I want to know if she’s still there.” They talked it over and decided to walk right up and ring the bell. So they did. And it was Janeen’s birth mom who opened the door.

All three stood in a stunned and awkward silence for a moment, and then Judy and Janeen were invited to go in. Tears were shed. Promises were made, and Janeen left the apartment of her birth mom expecting to see her again soon.

The appointed day for the next reunion meeting came and went. No birth mom. Janeen’s birthday passed without the promised contact. More waiting. More silence.

Janeen’s mom and dad waited with her. They listened to her anger, and they caught the tears that flowed from her disappointment and hurt. And then – Janeen began to let them into her heart.

Attachment takes time.

Parenting came first. Chuck and Judy put their love out there for Janeen months before she was ready to reach out and claim it.

She had some internal work to do before she was ready to allow herself to be adopted in the final, emotional sense. Now they really are a family.

If you watch our website closely, you will notice that sometimes a child’s photograph is removed for a period of time. It may be that a family appears to be a good match and plans are underway. Or there may be other factors.

Here is the story told by the mother of one of those children whose photograph disappeared for a while, and then returned:

When Ryan got put back on The Adoption Exchange listing as available by himself because his brother had gotten placed, I saw the listing right away because back then I was monitoring listings nearly daily.

I submitted an inquiry and his caseworker responded immediately. We talked, and she linked me to speak with Ryan’s therapist and with his foster mother. It was sounding like a good fit. Then my husband and I … spent a couple hours reviewing [agency] documentation, which did not scare us off, but confirmed we were on the right track.

There were a number of steps in the process. There were people to meet, life books, sharing of photographs, visits, and conversations.

And then Ryan to his very own family. Now his photograph is gone from our website for good. His mom says, “I dearly love my new son, he is an absolute treasure.”

Last week I got to spend a little time with Lisa, who was adopted from foster care. Lisa’s twelve year old daughter and her mom joined us for lunch. There in front of my eyes were three generations who are living out the promise we call adoption.

Now and then it’s good to look at life over a span of time. It’s tempting to take a “snap-shot” sort of view at the moment of the adoption placement or court finalization. But we know those moments are just two of many milestones.

Another tempting moment to take a “snap-shot” is when there are challenges. Every family has them. Not one of those moments defines the entire family experience, either.

There are years of living and loving and working things through between every milestone. That’s why the long view is useful.

Lisa’s life is completely different from the abuse and neglect she left behind when she entered foster care. And the lives of her adoptive family and friends have been changed, too.

Today her adoptive parents, siblings, aunts, uncles and grandparents can’t imagine their lives without her. She is a tutor for children with learning disabilities who might not have had a teacher with Lisa’s empathy if she hadn’t been given the opportunities to grow and thrive.

Poet James Kavanaugh said “genealogies are changed,” and he was right. Lisa is a wife and mother of three children.

And her children — the third generation — have never had to worry about being safe, having regular meals, and knowing love.

Myron is now on his own. He was raised by a system, not a family. And, thanks to a few people who went beyond the minimal expectations, he worked through the worst parts and grew into a fine young man who is now in his late twenties.

When he spoke to a room full of people, he had our undivided attention.

Like a number of adolescents, Myron tried running away from foster care, and he had some brushes with the correction system. “There is no such thing as a pillow or any kind of comfort on the street,” he said.

“On the street we were all looking for a family. We found “friends” on the street, and we became family to each other, until one of us got put in jail …..or drowned.”

At a time when he needed more than anything else to have someone in his life who’d see the possibilities in him, Myron remembers a probation officer saying, “You’re just another 50 cents in my pay check.”

“When I graduated [from high school] I wanted to find him and rub his nose in it.”

And then Myron shared his memories about some key people who “respected me and let me be myself.”

There is a family who eventually took him into their hearts and remain a steady force in his life. “I have someone there now – for back-up,” as he describes it.

And there was one very special caseworker. Myron dares to think there were two things that made her happy — to see him graduate and to see his brother get out of jail.

At last, as he was about to leave the child welfare system he discovered that he was in fact important to a tiny selection of people who wanted the best for him. And that is what it took for him to see the best in himself.

“I wondered if she [his caseworker] would be there for my graduation. And she was. I saw her there waving! Afterward I ran over and gave her such a big hug.”

In the news we hear about the times when people who work in child welfare mess up. Myron’s caseworker is like lots of others who strive to give the best the system can offer to the children it serves. They get up on week day and weekend mornings, put on their work clothes and stand in for absent parents on birthdays, at court hearings and at graduations.

An adoptive parent said, “if you can change one child’s life, then you’ve found a purpose for your own.”

The fantasies of teenagers aren’t much different than those of the younger children. They long for loving parents “who won’t hurt me.” They want to grow up knowing that they matter to someone. They want to play sports and enjoy sleep-overs with friends. They want grandparents for their own children yet to come.

Nonetheless sixteen-year old Frank wasn’t just hesitant when it came to having his picture taken. He stubbornly resisted. A failed adoption had left him wary.

So his caseworker asked him what he thought about putting his portrait in the annual Heart Gallery to draw in a mom or a dad (or both) who might get interested in another child in foster care.

“Okay,” he finally said. “But I don’t want one.” He made his opinion known the photographer and his caseworker, and then he combed his hair.

The photographer asked him to climb up into a tree, and caught a shot of Frank in an unguarded, vulnerable moment. That’s the shot that was selected for the Heart Gallery.

And now you know what I’m about to say…within weeks Frank moved into his permanent, adoptive family.

Smart caseworker. She knew “no” meant “I’m afraid no one will want me.”

If you have a teenager at home, you’re probably trying to make peace with constant texting and other social media obsessions. Teenagers are pretty social creatures. They’re too tired to do their laundry, but full of energy when a friend calls.

Linda, a teenager, said she just quit trying to make friends when she was in foster care because she kept having to say goodbye, and she didn’t want to cry again and again.

Kids like Linda would give just about anything to have a parent to tell them to get off the phone and join the family.

James called it his “quick bag.” When he was in foster care he always kept it within reach. He kept socks, shoes, and a pair of jeans in that bag – ready in case he was told he’d be moving at a moment’s notice.

BBC News recently reported results of a study in the U.K. which found that in 25% of the cases children in foster care were given no notice at all that they would be moving from one home to another.

I’m not aware of any studies about this in the United States. But over and over again children like James tell us the same story. Obviously every time a move like that happens, it adds one more trauma to a fear-filled life.

It may be a good decision. But whatever you call it, it’s one more move in a series of hurtful separations. Better keep a bag handy, just in case.

It’s no wonder Sarah said that being adopted is “like finally being able to sit down after standing up for a long, long time”.