Then I married a soldier. I quickly found out that my life was not my own anymore. I was a wife. So I had to share EVERYTHING. That was fun for my husband (said extremely sarcastically.) And the US Army controlled my husband’s life in its entirety. From where we lived, when and where we could take our vacations, to 24-hour duty and training at the last minute, to the very early wake-up calls for physical training and middle of the night parachute jumps. Working weekends and nights were pretty normal. Being gone for 4-6 weeks for training was expected. And then there were the nine-month-long deployments and permanent change of duty stations where we only had two months to move our entire lives.

I also became a step-mother. She is very demanding and doesn’t think much about what our lives need only what she needs. So we have to work around her schedule as much as we can. Much of our free time is spent going to get or dropping off my step-son. So our vacations are also controlled by someone other than myself.

We were also foster parents. Which meant we worked around classes, training, social worker visits, medical appointments, and court dates. To help kids adjust and feel some semblance of normalcy. We adopted our fourth foster child as a newborn baby. Babies are known for being on their own schedule and very demanding.

I also started my own marketing consulting company after we got married and became an accidental entrepreneur. Any business owner will tell you, they work crazy hours and have no life during the first few years as they build their business. Clients’ needs come first to keep you successful. And then I added employees, which also requires attention and support 24-7.

I also struggled with many health issues from a torn labrum in my hip and needing major hip surgery in 2015 to esophagus/stomach issues requiring surgery in 2019. In 2020, Covid-19 hit. And it seemed our home was the only bubble we had to protect ourselves. I do like an organized and tidy home, and this became a huge focus as a way to cope with the pandemic. Cleaning closets, purging items, reorganizing cabinets and drawers, and knocking out all those DIY home to do projects. My home is really the only place I have some semblance of control. lol

Over the last 9 years, my life quickly transitioned to other people’s needs. I learned control is an illusion. That I needed to go with the flow as much as possible and not try to make everything perfect. That plans b, c, and d could work too. This has made me a much better person who isn’t so uptight and isn’t as demanding. I now truly pick my battles. These life lessons have been important in helping me appreciate my health, each and every moment, and staying present to enjoy life.

I was born in southern Alabama in 1975 and lived in Memphis, Cincinnati, and until we moved to the Detroit suburbs around 1978. My mother, who was adopted at age three and was from Indianapolis and my father was from Alabama. My father left my life around the time we moved North. And I didn’t see him again until I was 37 years old. My mother remarried and my stepdad was born in Michigan, (but his mother was from Tennessee) and adopted me. This woman’s southern influence in my life was strong and wonderful. Her love and acceptance of me were more powerful than words can describe but she came from a different time.

My mother’s adopted mom told her she couldn’t’ have black friends. They were not allowed in her home. My mother hated that. She knew that was wrong. She raised me to welcome all people at our table. And to this day, many of my diverse friends call her mom too. 

I grew up lower-middle class and our neighbors were Black. My friends’ names were Heather (polish), Shalonda, Tequila, Marquetta, Agnes (polish), and Dawn. My school was predominantly white but my neighborhood bordered a predominantly black city. And our streets were filled with kids, that were all colors of the beautiful rainbow. 

I have gone to college in rural Michigan, in a suburb of Detroit, as well as in midtown Detroit. I have seen how education and learning experiences in different environments change based on where you study. My master’s degree is in communication but focuses primarily on intercultural communication. And my thesis focused on Diversity Training Ineffectiveness. I learned about Black culture, call and response in the church, code-switching, and the power of Hip Hop, I learned about Middle  Eastern troupes in movies and media, I learned about the power of storytelling in Asian and Native American Indian Cultures. I learned about how culture informs our experience and affects how, why, and the way we communicate and interact in society. This includes the psychology, anthropology, and sociology of these minorities as they exist in the whiteness of this America.

I thought I knew what racism and culture were. I thought I was open-minded, progressive, and liberal. What I didn’t know is…I didn’t really know.

I have lived almost a decade (about 25% of my life) in the south since I married my army husband, seven years in North Carolina, and two years in Virginia. Our neighbors and friends have been Black, White, German, Middle Eastern, Italian, and Hispanic. I have lived in Spain and Brazil. I have traveled all over the world and throughout our amazing country. I have been the only white person in a sea of dark faces, I have been spit on by police for being the other. But my experiences are very minor compared to those who live as the other EVERY. SINGLE. Day.

Before I got married I dated a diverse group of men. I dated White men, Black men, Philipino men, French men, Peruvian men, Spanish men, Indian (from India) men, and Lebanese men. I also sought out friends from all over the world. I loved the things that made us different. I loved learning about their language, culture, religion, food, and traditions. I served on a board of directors for an organization that welcomed diplomats from other countries to Detroit by hosting them for dinners in our homes so they could experience what our lives were actually like. I have learned more from my travels and these relationships about what it means to be American than from my own education and upbringing.

I have worked in fast food, I have worked in corporate America, I have helped build a startup. I now own my own marketing company. I have worked very hard for everything that I have. My ethics, sense of fairness, integrity and my word are everything. I am extremely authentic. What you see is what you get. I am also joyful. Kindness, love, and laughter is everything.  

I am a foster mom to four Black & biracial children, the adopted mom of a Black son, and a stepmom to a White son. It wasn’t until my fierce loyalty and love of these children grew, that I started to see how deeply ingrained racism is in our society. My first real wake up call was when Treyvon Martin was murdered. Our own foster son was about the same age and wore hoodies and was truly an innocent soul that I started to see the people I loved in the faces of those being murdered. Our foster daughter also felt extreme shame in going places as a family because so many people looked at us and whispered. I kept telling her that we should be proud to be a true example of what love and acceptance is… not just mere tolerance. All of a sudden black people talked to us more. All of a sudden our white friends didn’t share racist jokes anymore (thank goodness). We were part of a different club. I actively sought out Black connections for my kids so that they saw people who looked like them. Who they could ask tough questions about the police and Black history. Because that simply was not my experience and no matter how much I learned, I was never going to be Black in this country. 

When we adopted our Black son, we made a very conscious choice to surround him with Black culture. We researched and purchased children’s books that celebrated Black history, amazing Black people, and stories that elevated his blackness. We sought out toys that looked like him. Which is actually still pretty difficult. There is a sea of white superheroes but there are only a handful of Black ones. We did this because our positive white narrative was everywhere but positive blackness narratives needed to be found. White parents have the privilege to unconsciously parent around these same issues. 

We watched very eye-opening independent movies and documentaries about the black experience. (There needs to be more.) They touched on issues of education, housing, drugs, incarceration, music, and injustice. We read about trans racial adoptions. And our very important role as White parents to a Black child. We began to understand that many Black and White people didn’t want us raising a child outside of our race. And issues of colorism were brought to our attention. Will our son ever be truly Black enough to fit in or White enough to feel accepted? We sought deeper connections with our Black friends. Had tougher conversations. Asked unsafe questions. We began this long journey of awareness.

White supremacy is rooted in our education. Is depicted in our statues and what is revered. Is spoonfed to us via the media. Through words and images. I feel like my lived experience is uncharacteristically varied and diverse and I am still truly struggling with my inherent whiteness. Ironically, that very privilege has allowed me these exact and varied experiences. And to be safe doing it. We have been indoctrinated in this country to not even see our whiteness. We only see the other. But in 30 years, we will be the minority. What then? 

My stamina for racial inequality and injustice is low. I have not had to face this head-on for my entire life. As I learn, I am building the mental muscles and capacities to question the “truths,” to check myself, and to call out racism when I see it. This is so extremely difficult. Oftentimes, I am gutted when I learn of Black history and how Whites have perpetrated crimes and injustices. I have tremendous anxiety about this topic. I genuinely fear for my son’s life. He is my everything. The cost is high. What if he wears a hoodie, says the wrong thing, is in the wrong place, what if he commits a crime and his life is snuffed out? By white people who fear him or police officers who should be protecting him? 

I find myself praying for the right words and resources to inspire change and to help people become more self-aware of the systemic racism in this country. I also pray for the grace to forgive people for what they do not know. To have the patience and understanding that this internal reckoning is hard. But its not nearly as hard as what Black people have lived through. I pray for strength for them to have the wisdom to guide us, to be angry in ways that teach us (kneeling, rioting, singing, dancing, speaking, sharing, etc.), and to have the fortitude to deal with our continued ignorance as we navigate through all of this “new” information. It’s a lot to unpack.

We are all part of the Human Race and we all descend genetically from black women in Africa. My blackness has just faded over time due to living conditions, climate, and diet. I recently completed the Ancestry.com DNA test. I have Nigerian blood in me. I also have European DNA. My Black son also has these same genetic markers. We are more alike genetically but we have very different lived experiences in the United States of America. 

I have people whom I love dearly who have ended conversations and threatened business contracts because I simply shared what they are posting and sharing on social media, has a bias, or is racist. They are more worried about protecting the status quo and what they know then stopping, listening, and realizing that maybe just maybe I have a point. They are so fragile in their whiteness that any new information seems to question who they are. I am not saying you are a bad person. But I am saying this reality exists. And I need your help to know when it is presenting itself in your words. 

When I am confronted with the idea that I have hurt someone, I genuinely reflect and want to affirm those I have hurt. Not make excuses or justifications for my behavior. I want to grow and learn. We have a social responsibility to learn. This is no different. I have a son, who deserves to know his mother will fight for him until the day I die. What am I fighting for? A life without fear, hate, and ugliness from the society he lives in because he was simply born with Black skin. I want a future that is better for him and my grandchildren. This is my legacy.  

I can’t have a baby that grows in my body. My fallopian tubes were severely scared from a serious but mysterious viral infection I had when I was 19 years old. But our desire to grow our family didn’t stop when we heard the news that we could not “have” a baby.

We have fostered four children, we are lucky enough to have adopted one.  We wanted to tell the story of their birth into the McGlynn family. This isn’t the traditional birth story.

The process of fostering to adopt is not an easy one. It is complicated, it is emotional, and it is wonderful. We are so blessed to be able to open our homes and hearts to these children in need, but we also take on their trauma and pain of such humongous loss and terrible acts done to them. Love is a funny thing, it changes you. To be loved is hard for many of these children who have never been loved in a healthy way. To love a child who has these types of needs is something that will change you forever.

ALL adoptions begin with loss. Loss of parents. Loss of the ability to have children. Processing this loss is a labor of deep love. While I don’t think I have ever been the grinch, my heart has grown 10 times larger. And I feel it. But it had to break first to be able to grow.

To say adopted kids are born in our heart is deeply meaningful. They have been desired, manifested, hoped for, longed for, and prayed for. And being loved by an adopted child is EVERYTHING!  My lil’ man was born in my heart and changed me for the better in countless ways.

We can only imagine what you and your family have been through over the last several weeks and months but we wanted to share how much Baby L has touched our lives as well as so many people we love.

Two years ago, my husband and I found out we could not have children. I have terrible scarring on my tubes from a very serious viral infection, I had when I was 19 years old. We desperately wanted to start a family of our own and soon found our path included foster care – in the hopes of adopting. This was not a decision we took lightly as we spent hours in interviews, filled out stacks and stacks of paperwork, participated in hours of trainings, completed several different types of background checks and had strangers in our home on an almost weekly basis. But we felt called to help children and possibly adopt one or two someday.

About a year and a half ago, we finally received our licensing from the state of North Carolina. We soon were able to attend some matching events and met a 10 year boy – Chris that touched our hearts. He had a younger sister, Sadie. We followed the process of getting to know them and soon they were placed in our home.

It didn’t take long to realize how much emotional baggage these children came with. 15 homes and 10 schools in 5 years, has a pretty profound effect on kids. Not to mention what got them into foster care and open for adoption in the first place. We soon realized that they had many serious issues, issues that we simply couldn’t take on for our family. Therapy and Psychiatric appointments, stealing, lying, physically trying to hurt themselves or us, issues with food, learning disabilities and so much more. It became very overwhelming and on March 9th, after more than 8 months in our home, it was agreed the children needed to be separated and moved to a higher level of care in therapeutic foster homes. Our dream of adopting them came crashing down. We were heartbroken.

The home we had moved into specifically to grow our family was suddenly empty. The mini van we traded in for my convertible seemed useless. The school buses that went by everyday were reminders of how crushed we were. How does a parent move on without two children they loved? It was an impossible situation that left a very deep hole in our hearts.

Then we got the call about Baby L needing a home. We agreed to take her in even though we didn’t have a single thing in our home for babies. We had been prepared for tweens. We put a call out to our community and church and we were bombarded with gifts of lovingly worn hand me downs and baby items. The list is so long of the people who donated and supported us! Within 36 hours our home was ready for a baby. We picked up Baby L from UNC and immediately knew she was special.

Her smile. Her innocence. Her beauty. She is simply amazing. From moment one, she trusted us and loved us. And we loved her. We kept telling ourselves the goal of Foster care is family reunification, so our job was to simply take care of her temporarily. However, we couldn’t do that. We couldn’t love her just a little. We found ourselves loving her with our whole hearts. She filled our home with laughter, baby things and much needed purpose. She gave us a focus to help her heal and to encourage her growth. We found ourselves totally and completely in love.

And everyone who met her did too. My husband’s family in Michigan was going through a very tough health crisis around the time we got the call to pick up Baby L. His father had just been diagnosed with cancer. A very treatable form of cancer, but still very scary. We sent videos and photos of Baby L being cute and sweet to them and that helped them get through his difficult hospital stay with smiles. They were smitten with this baby girl, they never even met and probably never will meet.

Our across the street neighbor found out her 100 year old mother was starting to pass. She watched Baby L for a couple hours while I had meetings for my business for a couple of days during that time and she was a lovely distraction of fun and joy for her. She fell in love with her too.

Everywhere we went, people stopped us to share that Baby L is so beautiful. And we beamed because we couldn’t have agreed more. She is beautiful inside and out. We call Baby L our most precious gift, an angel on this Earth. She helped to heal our hearts and brought so much joy into our home. She changed us for the better.

As shared before, we really wanted to keep an open relationship with your family. We would love Baby L to stay in our lives in some way – even small way. Crazy Aunt and Uncle? Family Friend’s, whatever. But we understand if it is too hard… to let us in. That this has been a difficult time for you – the family, and we are only reminders of the fact that strangers had your baby. Baby L is family to us. And that makes you all family too. We are here. We would love to help. Babysit. Or just meet up for coffee…so we can give her a hug and just lay eyes on her. We would like to see her grow up and to be a support for you all. At the very least we wanted you to have this letter. We wanted Baby L to know how special she is and how much she positively affected our lives, even though she was just a baby. She has changed us. She helped to heal us in a way noone or nothing else could of.  And we are so extremely thankful.

We now have a three-week old baby boy, named Zeke in our home that is open for adoption. We are hoping to make him a permanent part of our family.  Baby L helped us cross the bridge of pain and heartache to get to this amazing and very special place in our lives. We are forever grateful and we will never forget her. She has a place in our hearts for eternity.

God Bless.

Foster Mom and Dad from 4/24/15-5/22/15

Fostering to adopt is not for the faint of heart. It is tough, for many reasons.

• You need patience, tons of patience to wade through the process just to get certified
• You need to be organized in order to complete all the paperwork and stay on top of appointments etc.
• You need to be open to any kind of possibility. You can make lists of what is ideal all day long and sometimes that works and most times that gets thrown out the window.
• You need to be a good communicator with your social worker and foster/adoption team to share what is going on and how things are going.
• You need to be flexible to handle emotions, demands, appointments, interviews, trainings, delays and more.

But ultimately you need the capacity for love. Love that has no bounds, that doesn’t ask for one thing in return. That is forgiving. Of others AND yourself.

Sounds pretty simple. But fostering and adopting from the system is not simple. It is messy and complicated. It is emotional. And no matter how much you give, sometimes its not enough or what the kids’ need.

We had planned to adopt two very special foster children but due to some extraordinary circumstances… that simply was not possible. And it nearly undid my husband and I. We were so deeply saddened by this loss. Why wasn’t our love enough? Had we failed God in saving the least of these?

Many friends said very kind things like:

• You helped them on their journey.
• Your love and influence will always be with them.
• Your work to help them elevate their reading levels will be something they can always carry with them.

But..why couldnt we love them to healing? Why coulnd’t we fix them? Because sometimes, God has other plans.

My priest once said to me while I was processing all of my pain and feeling like I had failed God, “Where there is love, there is God. And you loved them with everything you had. This is not failing God.” After a lot of time and deep reflection, God had other plans. He wanted the kids with us for a certain time frame. To love them, teach them, and support them. To allow them to move from our home to their forever home. Where they were meant to be. We were simply part of their journey, and they were part of ours. If we had adopted them, we wouldn’t have our Zeke. And I can’t even imagine not loving that lil’ man or knowing him. Being his mom has been the greatest gift.

So not loving enough…maybe that isn’t the truth. But being one to love them on their path is their truth.

The scars of history are still fresh for racism and prejudice in this country.

Unfortunately, racism is very much alive and well in 2014. I have seen it my entire life. I have witnessed it, by neighbors, people I have called friends, and even family members. I like to think times have changed but for many people, especially older generations time stands still. It is incredibly sad and fundamentally wrong.

We have been blessed to call many people who are from all different races and from various cultures our friends. These people,have enriched our lives, taught us about the world, and helped us to understand ourselves in a much whole different way than we knew possible.

We never hesitated about this decision. But everyone has asked us about it. The social workers have drilled us about making this decision, we are hoping because of the best interest of the child.

My worries are:

• learning how to do her hair so I don’t ruin it
• the kids not seeing very many examples of what their family looks like
• feeling like they have lost a part of their culture
• and people judging them based on the color of their skin

The last bullet is the scariest. With stories like Trevon Martin and so many other inherent biases you see in the world.

We have so many privileges in this society as white people. We can go to a store and no one thinks we will shoplift. I can find hair products in almost any store I go into.  And the list goes on and on. These may seem like small things or things you never thought of but once you think about having children of a different race your whole world view shifts. We certainly are not african american but now those issues have become alive for us because of our children. In some ways, it is a true shame that those issues didn’t matter as much when we where separate and not tied to the race in any close and personal way like family binds you.

This will make us better citizens. More aware of the world around us. More compassionate people.

We want the best for these kids they have already had it so rough. My mama bear instinct wants to protect them from all the ignorance and hate in this world.

Take the time and in a quiet moment just look. What do you see?

There should be excitement, joy, and inquisitiveness. This is what a child’s world should be filled with.

The reality of a foster kid’s life.

Unfortunately, the foster kid’s life is a nightmare. I look into the eyes of the children we meet at matching events and I am haunted by what I have seen.

There is a deep sadness, so much hopelessness, and the huge burden of tremendous loss. Beautiful eyes that are eager for us to like them. For us to choose them. Because all they want… is a place to call home, to feel safe, and to feel loved.

Every child deserves these things. It is a pretty simple concept, but at the same time so completely difficult to get to that elusive place.

An innocent, but loaded question.

Last week someone asked whether my husband and I had thought about our son Eliott and the consequences of adopting foster children would have on him. People are insensitive, we know that. So many times we hear really stupid things, but this one takes the cake.

In our world, when you become a parent, your child is your number one priority. You put your own needs aside for them. From the beginning (even when we were trying to have a baby) we thought about Eliott first. We never wanted him to feel left out, pushed aside or God forbid, unloved. We especially didn’t want him to get hurt in any way during this process. His being with us only part-time complicates that. We already worry about his feelings and constantly reassure him that we love and him and we are here for him, even if we are 750 miles apart.

We have spent well over a year exploring the adoption option. We have attended information sessions, talked well into the night about all the ways this huge decision will affect our family; we have filled out grueling applications, been privy to invasive interviews, and completed hours of training sessions. We have a very clear picture about what this adoption experience may look like.

Fully experiencing these children with open arms.

However, this experience is theirs and ours. We are open to all the possibilities of what the foster kids will show us. These are little people who have lost so very much — over and over again — discarded by the very people who were supposed to protect them. They have lost their whole world, but somehow are still able to light a room with a single smile. Who hug each other with such joy and love. Who are so resilient.

We want to give them back a piece of what they’ve lost. We want to provide a safe home. We want to provide them unconditional love. And trust me, these kids come with lots of conditions (years of therapy, years of hurt, and years of mistrust). Nonetheless, they are children that deserve to be loved. And in the process someone to help them heal, even if it is just a little.

Please think about what you’re saying before you pass judgment about the road we’ve opted to travel. We are not some sensationalized media story. We are real people, just doing the best we know how. All we ask from our family and friends is that they keep an open mind. Do not prejudge these children based on a system that is broken in so many ways, on parents that just couldn’t do their jobs, or on their behaviors because they don’t know how to express all the feelings they have inside of them. We ask that you support us and give them your love, your hope, and all the blessings they need and so deserve.

They have much to teach us. We will be changed.

We think Eliott will be wonderful for them. We think they will be wonderful for him. We think Eliott will learn all about giving in ways a sermon or a book could not possibly ever convey. We think Eliott will be better for having been part of this adoption experience. We already know we will be.

Are we there yet?

We have done everything that has been asked of us. We have jumped through hoops. We have stayed up late completing 20-page questionnaires. We have traveled hours for appointments. We have cried while reading through the children’s profiles. We have had moments of realization that we can’t take them all, and we have done everything we can to make this process as smooth as it could be. The truth is, adoption is not for the faint of heart. You have to dig in and stake your claim, and constantly remind yourself that you deserve a family no matter what they throw at you.

No child should go from the fire into the frying pan

We understand the state wants to protect the children. But it is beyond difficult to be scrutinized the way we have been cross examined, at least at times if feels that way. We have nothing to hide, but you feel bruised and battered by the end. You start to doubt if you said the right thing or answered the question appropriately. You try to be yourselves, but wonder if that is ever enough. Even being a military family has its challenges. They expect you to be perfect. We are not. Anyone who is truthful about their families, their childhoods, and their lives knows that there are shadows. What we are is self-aware, loving, caring, and extremely open to taking on another person’s responsibility as our own for the rest of our lives.

Daily reminders that your life is not complete

You look around you and see couples having babies who don’t have a clue. No one inspected their homes to make sure they had fire extinguishers in the house or took their fingerprints to check their criminal records, or even verified they had car insurance. The system wants you to have a home that is completely ready for the adoption. So, here we sit day-after-day looking at empty beds that should be filled with sleeping children and toys that should bring hours of joy. All while they scrutinize our lives,  these kids are in foster homes waiting, too.

So we wait and wait some more

It is already difficult to plan your life in the military, but sitting around and waiting for the next email or call from the social worker about the next step makes it almost impossible to plan anything. We want to plan a family vacation with the children this summer, but can’t. We want to sign the kids up for camps – enrollment opened this week, but can’t, and there’s a good chance the spots will fill up. We want to set up a nanny and educational opportunities for the summer, but can’t. Everything is on hold – in limbo – simply waiting. We are pros at playing the waiting game. The cycle of getting our hopes up and nothing happening is so incredibly difficult. It is truly a challenge to balance living now and planning for the future.

We know God has a plan

This thought has gotten us this far, but it is a really tough pill to swallow when offered from others. Our faith has gotten us through infertility testing, treatments, and making the decision to adopt. We are pros at God’s plan. Please don’t pat us on the head and tell us to just be patient. We know you mean well, but it is a bit patronizing. Understand that the emptiness we feel gnaws at us daily and sometimes we just need to vent our frustrations. We need to be able to yell at the world: “WHY IS IT SO HARD?” And truthfully, “IT IS NOT FAIR!”

Our journey

This is our path. This is our heartache. This will be our joy. But know it has been hard-fought battle for our family. And we haven’t even become parents yet.

So that dream died.

Adoption has always been on the table for us. My mother was adopted and my stepfather adopted me when he married my mom, so I have always felt that adoption is a beautiful option to grow your family. We began the adoption process about a year ago. It has not been easy. If anyone ever tells you it is easy, they are lying to you. But it is especially challenging for military families. We have even found that agencies look down on military couples, which has been heartbreaking for us. For every challenge that military families face, I can think of reasons of how those challenges make the family stronger and the children more prepared for whatever life will throw at them.

The Time:

It takes well over a year to adopt, and if you have to move in the process there is a high likelihood you will have to start from the beginning all over again after the move. Not to mention, you will need to be able to complete the paperwork, attend the classes, and arrange for social worker meetings all on a military schedule. This can be daunting. But thankfully we are able to schedule and work out almost impossible deadlines to make things work.

Moving/PCSing:

Military families move. You may have to relocate. The military provides various support systems to help your move be easier for you and your children. These services are simply not available for civilian moves where you are usually left to figure out your new city, where to live, and get the kids registered for school. And that’s assuming you know where to start and can hit the ground running. On the other hand, military families share Facebook groups and resources on post to help them get settled faster and transition easier. The gift of networking is essential in military life. Children learn the ability to make new friends, which will serve them well for the rest of their lives.

The Job:

The military requires training (away from the family) for days and weeks at a time. In addition, there is the ever-looming possibility of yearlong deployment that hangs over the family. But the job is one that protects our country and it takes a selfless person who is willing to sacrifice time with their families, the comforts of civilian life, and a normal sleep schedule for your protection to fit the bill. This is a person of solid character. Families often volunteer to help others in the unit, and this shows children how giving back can make this world a better place.

Structure:

People who are in the military are known for being a bit more rigid and structured in their thinking. The image of drill sergeant often comes to mind. But I think it is often quite the opposite. We have to be very flexible and resilient to change. We have to be able to go with the flow, change plans at the last minute, and make dinner that many times gets uneaten due to “work.” A military family understands how to make things work, as they need to. Bringing kids into the mix adds a new dynamic and military families are better able to adapt and change.

Separations:

Since family usually live in other communities or out of state, a military spouse has to be able to do things on his/her own without much support from their loved ones. They have to create their own families and build friendships in their temporary homes. They watch people come and go. They have to find out information all on their own when a military spouse is gone for training or deployments. They become extremely capable and independent beings. They learn how to change tires, to kill bugs, and to do things they wouldn’t normally get the chance to. They create their own holidays and traditions for their family. I think this also makes us appreciate each other so much more. Military families are some of the most supportive people out there and this support system is something kids can carry with them as they get older.

Exposure to Diversity:

The military is a melting pot of cultures from all over the country and even other parts of world. There is no other job that I can think of that will provide opportunities in such a small geographic location to meet new people and learn new things. The ability to broaden horizons will benefit children in ways that a book could never teach.

Military Life is a Good Life:

The military tends to get a bad rap and the “military brat” label is very cliché. But the lessons, skills, and examples in military life can enrich children’s lives in ways not possible growing up in the civilian world. Shame on those who don’t see beyond the stereotypes portrayed in movies and the attention-grabbing headlines to learn how wonderful this life can really be.

The first few years of my life were filled with trying to find a sense of place. There is a lot of information in the following paragraphs but I think it is important for my journey to realize how much moving and changes in my life have contributed to who I am today.

Moving

I was born in Alabama. Then we moved to Memphis for my father’s job when I was around a year old. When I was around two and half, my mother left him and we went to Michigan to be with my mother’s adopted family in Holly, Michigan. We stayed there only for a few months and then moved into an apartment. We then moved into a house with one of my mother’s friends who had a daughter too. My mom, then met my dad and they bought a single wide trailer and we moved there. When my mom and dad got married, he moved in. We lived there for about three years and then we moved into the house I grew up in until they sold it during my first year of college. We moved six times between the time I was born and I was eight years old.

Schools

With the moves came some change but as luck would have it other reasons made me change schools more too. I started my schooling at a baptist pre-school. I don’t think I was a good fit there. I got lots of spankings and had to wear bloomers and take naps that I had outgrown. I don’t remember it as a fun place.

My parents really liked the Avondale school district. My dad had grown up in it. I stayed with my grandparents during the week, so they used that as my primary residence. I then started Kindergarten at Meadowbrook Elementary and after that year the school closed and they redistricted me to Auburn Elementary school for first grade. I stayed there through third grade. At this time my best friend Micah moved away and I was crushed.

My parents decided to send me to Lake Orion schools this year since that was the district we lived in. So for fourth grade I went to Blanche Sims Elementary School. Then my parents moved again so I was back in the Avondale School District but we lived in a different elementary school zone so I went to Graham Elementary. Then I went to middle school. Which was kind of nice because I knew people from Auburn and Graham there. My school life became much easier after that as we didn’t move again until after high school.

Change and Uncertainty

All this moving and new schools creates a lot of insecurity in anyone let alone a child. Having to always make new friends, having to always lose friends and having lots of uncertainty during critical child development times. I worried a lot as a child. I still worry. I think my father leaving my life and lots of changes so young were really difficult on me. I always tried to put on a brave face for my mom and dad but it was really hard on me. So hard, that during my 5th grade year I had to see a psychologist because I didn’t have any friends. He became my friend and he helped me get through one of the hardest years growing up. I was teased and bullied by the kids at the new school. But I did make a few friends. Some of them I am still in contact with.

Since high school I have had lots more moves and schools.

During high school, I did live a summer each in Spain and Brazil. My family moved to Lake Orion during college and I moved away to school in Grand Rapids. I had to move back due to an illness. I lived there and attended two more colleges before I finished my degree. I lost a lot a friendships along the way there too.

I bought a house with a boyfriend and kind of moved out but then moved back due to calling off my wedding to him. I went to Wayne State and got my graduate degree and  then moved out to an apartment, then in with a friend, then got a house of my own. I was there for 5 years. That is probably the longest I have been anywhere. I got married in April of 2012 to a man in the military and I have moved to NC to be with him. We have been here for a year and half or so. Moving here was really challenging. Making friends later in life is a lot harder than it was in those college years.

What is Home?

I realize how full my home was back in a Northern Suburb of Detroit. I had a huge community of people I knew through school, college, work and community volunteering. My home was rich with activities and relationships.

Making a new home in North Carolina as an army wife has been good but it is hard to create years of connections in such a short time. And I am a bit older than the average army wife so I feel a little out of place at times.

The idea of home has changed for me over the years but it has always been where I feel safe, loved and able to be myself. I felt that growing up with my parents and I feel it now with my husband. Friends do come and go, jobs come and go, homes come and go but the people who are meant to walk with you in this life will be there. You will find them, they will find you and if the relationship is worth it you will do the work and invest the time to nurture it.  You will have brief sparks of friendships, they will dim but they will serve a purpose in your growth. You have to be open to new relationships and put yourself out there. Even if you just find ONE new friend that gets you, its worth it!