There is a rhythm to childhood that, if eloquently experienced,
can move a young person along with poise and purpose.
It is a litany of sights and sounds: a child's
glee when gliding heavenward on an outdoor swing; the idle chat of a
family friend gently braiding a child's hair; adults clinking champagne-filled
glasses in front of a flier on a refrigerator reading: "Join us
in celebrating our official family union on National Adoption Day."
Saturday was a chance for two 285 Corridor residents,
Mike and Robin, to begin a new rhythm with their two adopted daughters,
whose lives once knew a drumbeat of pain and displacement.
It was a day the couple had envisioned for a
very long time.
"Are you ready to be responsible for (these
girls) as if they were naturally born unto you?" a judge asked
Mike and Robin in a Jefferson County courtroom Saturday morning. Beside
them, on either side, sat two wide-eyed sisters dressed in taffeta and
velvet.
"Do you believe this adoption is in (their)
best interests?"
It was the last requirement for this temporary
family to become permanently united—the
last in a series of steps that began nine months ago when the two handsome
girls came to live with Mike and Robin. It had been even longer for
the couple, who first considered adoption in 2001.
o o o
Mike and Robin were among 24 families
in Jefferson County who adopted children on National Adoption Day, Nov.
17.
The annual event is a collective national effort
to raise awareness regarding the 114,000 children in foster care who
are available for adoption. For the last eight years, judges, attorneys,
adoption professionals, child welfare agencies and advocates have joined
forces on the day to complete the process of helping these children
find permanent homes.
The day is celebrated each year on the Saturday
before Thanksgiving.
In Colorado, there remain 750 children in need
of permanent homes, 30 of whom are in foster care in Jefferson County.
Mike and Robin, who have been married nine years,
had their heart set on adopting a child more than six years ago. But
the death of Mike's mother temporarily derailed those plans because
he had to spend time addressing important family matters.
By then they had experienced disappointment
when young candidates slipped away and records of the couple's progress
were lost at a private adoption agency.
By the time they contacted Jefferson County
Human Services in search of a child to adopt, Robin had spent many years
caring for the children of her friends.
"It was like having a sitter that you didn't
have to leave notes for," said a family friend named Cheryl. "She
would make (my kids) a better dinner than I would. They didn't sit in
front of the TV—they would sing, make
jewelry or holiday wreaths. I would come home, and there would be drawings
on my table."
By the time the couple officially became foster
parents, they were close to age 50, give or take a year. But they had
accumulated an arsenal of skill sets related to adoption. They had attended
a "dynamite" program through Jefferson County, as well as
attended meetings with trained counselors. And, they had watched many
episodes of "Supernanny," they are proud to add.
Mike and Robin planned to adopt one girl between
the age of 5 and 8, until a caseworker brought them siblings.
"We have two girls for you—ages
5 and 8," the caseworker said.
"Most families want to adopt as close to
a baby as possible, which means all the older kids that need families
are overlooked," Mike said, thinking back on the experience. "It
worked out perfect for Robin and I—we
don't want babies; we are getting too old for that."
These girls were certainly not babies, in age
or experience, which accounted for occasional angry outbursts at their
foster parents, such as "You're stupid!" or "I hate food!''—an
understandable sentiment for a child who in times past ate cereal three
times a day mixed with water and not milk.
o o o
Children are removed from their biological
families only when allegations of abuse or neglect surface in those
relationships, according to Jody Caporaso, a supervisor with Jefferson
County's department of children, youth and families. "Our first
priority is to keep children with their biological families, (but) this
is not always possible due to the specific situation with each case."
These girls had spent time with five different
foster care families before they met Mike and Robin. On the first day,
they began calling them Mom and Dad.
One of the girls sings like a bird; the other
was born the year Mike and Robin were married. The younger is chatty;
the older is quiet and overprotective.
Doubts have turned to trust over the last nine
months for this blended family—during
day trips to the river, or a weekend spent at Disneyland; during horseback
rides and time spent in the girls' playhouse, where they scribble menu
items on a chalkboard above a tea set: "the specul to night is
stake."
"Kids are a lot harder than horses and
dogs—they are more complicated,"
said Robin, amused by the challenge. And she should know, being the
owner of four horses, three dogs and two cats.
Adjustment comes in stages, she explains, marked
by moments when frenzied days and frustrating behaviors give way to
calm and promise.
"You spend time with one child by yourself,
and you realize there is so much (depth) there."
o o o
The drive to the courthouse Nov. 17 was
terrifying for Mike and Robin's girls.
Court appearances meant something different
to these children, who had witnessed police encounters in the home they
once shared with their biological parents.
But this day was a new beginning, with a new
backdrop—complete with silver necklaces
engraved with the letters of their new last name.
By Saturday afternoon, when friends gathered
at the home of Mike and Robin, their comfortable routine had resumed.
You could hear it in the cadence of the voices speaking softly at two
dining room tables: an opera singer, a cancer survivor, a teacher, a
college student and a chef.
The girls were home now, for a certainty—home
with their bunk beds under the tiny white stars glued to the ceiling.
Home with a menagerie of dogs, cats and horses, with an upright piano,
and with a computer screen, in its own comforting rhythm, showing a
slide show of photos of the girls.
"I'm glad you guys adopted us," the
oldest said.
end
SIDEBAR:
According to statistics compiled by the sponsors of National Adoption
Day, an estimated 523,000 children are in foster care in the United
States, and more than 114,000 of them are waiting to be adopted.
A national survey showed that four in 10 Americans have considered adoption.
That translates into more than 80 million Americans. If only one out
of 500 Americans adopted from the foster care system, these children
would have homes. (Source: National Adoption Attitudes Survey 2002;
Dave Thomas Foundation for Adoption: www.davethomasfoundation.org)
Since 1987, the number of children in foster care has nearly doubled,
and the average time a child remains in foster care has lengthened to
nearly three years. Each year, approximately 20,000 children in foster
care will age out of the system without ever being placed with a permanent
family.
In September 2003, of the 523,000 children in foster care, 35 percent
were black non-Hispanic, 39 percent were white non-Hispanic; 17 percent
were Hispanic; 2 percent were American Indian/Alaskan Native; 1 percent
Asian non-Hispanic, 3 percent two or more races non-Hispanic; and 3
percent unable to determine.
The adoptive family structure is as follows: married couples, 67 percent;
single females, 28 percent; single males, 3 percent; and unmarried couples,
2 percent.
If you are interested in adopting, contact the Jefferson County Human
Services Department at 303-271-1388.
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