Archive | November, 2011

Dictionary

20 Nov

Today I looked up “race” and “ethnicity” and “ethnic group”.  I’m a little confused as to what I should think of myself.  If you couldn’t tell from the name of this blog, I do believe that my bio dad is of a Hispanic/Latino persuasion.  And I’ve grown up firmly believing that the correct boxes for me to apply pen to were the “Caucasian, not Hispanic” or “White” one.

Last year, though, when filling out the census form for our family, I felt so upset, so confused (really?  The Census gave me existential/identity angst?  YUP.).  I suddenly wasn’t sure which box was really me.  I shared this with my husband, Joe, and he didn’t really get it; then I shared it with his family and was laughed at– I am obviously white, right?  And culturally I am.  I have no idea about Latino culture outside of Cinqo de Mayo and Day of the Dead.  (And, in fact, don’t know if I should be using Latin American/Latino/Hispanic/Mexican as the adjective here. Although, that is probably a separate issue of ignorance…)  But I also feel this strong desire to know what is in me.  Like maybe even at this age I should try to learn something about this culture; maybe I should claim it as a part of me.

In my heart, I know that ultimately, my identity can be found in Christ:  that he died for me, that he loves me, that God made me and calls me his.

But, here in this world, it is painful to not know what to check on a form.  And, really, this question gets asked… so much.  And it’s such an easy question, isn’t it?  Everyone else can answer it with at least some sort of ease.  Maybe not; maybe it’s hard for more people than I realize.

A little background information

13 Nov

I’m not sure who will end up reading this, so I think I’ll go ahead and assume you know nothing about me.  A short history of what brings me to make such a blog as this:

I was born in 1987 in southern Illinois.  My mom was about 24 years old and was attending Southern Illinois University (she was slightly older than the “average” student having not gone right on to college after graduating from high school).  I was conceived with a dude, a college dude, you know?  Like not necessarily a boyfriend (or maybe not even a friend?), but a dude.  Get it?  So my mom didn’t tell this dude that she was pregnant; as a matter of fact, she didn’t really tell anyone in our family that she was pregnant (maybe my aunt/her sister?); she planned to give me up for adoption.  She had a nice family all picked out, and they were even there when I was born.  But she ended up keeping me– something to do with Illinois law (which I’ve only recently learned about; like last week recently) which makes birth mothers wait 3 days before actually being able to give up their babies– she didn’t want me to have to be in the hospital by myself or something like that.  I have an Alvin (of Alvin and the Chipmunks) doll that is from this family that wanted me.

So, you see, she kept me.  She brought me back “home” with her to where my grandparents (her parents, obviously) were in Spring Valley, and there you have it.  I was an Edgcomb.  With a big, fat blank spot where “father’s name” was supposed to be on my birth certificate.

And now, it’s time to look.  I mean, I’ve gone 24 years without knowing much.  And I’ve felt lied to and betrayed.  And not wanted.  And confused about who I really am.

Luckily, I’ve come to understand that I have an ultimate identity that really doesn’t have much to do with my biological father (that God loves me, wants me, pursues and cares for me– perhaps you know the story?), but the fact remains that it took 2 people to make me, and I’ve only ever met the 1 (my mom is the one I know, did you follow that?).  And now I think it’s time to try to meet the other half of my genetic code.  So now it’s time to look.

11/11/11

11 Nov

Tomorrow is the 11th of November.  And my son will be 7 months old tomorrow.  And it’s Veterans’ Day.  And I will officially begin my “search” for my “father.”  (I’m really into air quotes, which I am totally doing in my mind right now.)

And now, here are some facts:

  • I am 24 and have never met my biological father;
  • I also am not 100% on his name, ethnicity, age, current location, etc.;
  • I have no idea how to find him (outside of the guy that I’ve already “found” via some internet sleuthing– that will get it’s own post sometime soon);
  • I have no CLUE what I’ll do when/if I do find him;
  • I am going to try to film my experience, because, hey, why not?
So, Internet, here I am; watch as I fumble and trip on my way to something I don’t totally understand yet.