I have a great many things to say. But I'm sick and thus can't say any of them.
(Except to wonder why it is when Boy-o usually sleeps for almost 2 hours and is super slow for an hour after he wakes up, that today he sleeps for 1/2 hour and wakes up asking to go directly to the park? And when I tell him I am sick, he says: "but all you have to do is drive me, Mama!"
Is this day over yet?
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
My purse...
I just got a purse. It's kinda a big deal for me. It's silly, perhaps, to focus on the purse, but for me it's symbolic of something a little larger than the purse itself.
It all started when I went out with a friend to the Art Gallery awhile back. I was getting ready to go, and two things happened. 1. My son laughed at me while I was getting dressed up to go, and exclaimed: "Mama! Why are you wearing Mommy's grown-up clothes?!" and 2. I realized that I had no freaking purse. I could choose to take my lipstick, wallet and keys in a gargantuan red, food stained diaper bag, or an equally giant grey knapsack, which was full of sand from a recent trip to the park. You might say that it was something of an "aha! moment." Clearly - I need to focus a bit more on myself and my, you know, grown-up needs. So - I now have a purse. It's a snappy purple Lug bag - and it's all mine.
I've been told that, apparently, you can tell a lot about a person (and their life) by what's in their purse. The following is a list of the contents of my brand spankin' new purple purse:
1. pink wallet with green pen drawing on it (a la Girlio) (1)
2. crumpled diapers (2)
3. wipes, half dried out
4. empty tupperware snack containers (2)
5. lid to tupperware snack container that will fit neither of the above (1)
6. myriad of loose pennies
7. crumbs and goldfish (enough to cobble together a small meal if ever stuck in a wilderness survival situation)
8. to-do lists, half-finished (2.5)
9. month old shopping list (1)
10. OB tampon, still in plastic, but covered in teethmarks (1) (ahem, yes, in a pinch, I occassionally let the child teeth on a tampon- What of it?!)
11. lipstick, mushed at the tip from Boy-o's over-enthusiastic attempts at moustache drawing (1)
12. granola bar, half eaten (1)
13. expired coupons (3)
*I can't believe I almost forgot to check the pockets*
14. cell phone (dead as a doornail) (1)
Okay. This exercise has taught me two very important lessons:
1. Maybe the purse isn't quite mine-all-mine yet, and 2. you really can tell a lot about my life from the contents of my purse.
(but at least it's a darn snappy-lookin' purse).
It all started when I went out with a friend to the Art Gallery awhile back. I was getting ready to go, and two things happened. 1. My son laughed at me while I was getting dressed up to go, and exclaimed: "Mama! Why are you wearing Mommy's grown-up clothes?!" and 2. I realized that I had no freaking purse. I could choose to take my lipstick, wallet and keys in a gargantuan red, food stained diaper bag, or an equally giant grey knapsack, which was full of sand from a recent trip to the park. You might say that it was something of an "aha! moment." Clearly - I need to focus a bit more on myself and my, you know, grown-up needs. So - I now have a purse. It's a snappy purple Lug bag - and it's all mine.
I've been told that, apparently, you can tell a lot about a person (and their life) by what's in their purse. The following is a list of the contents of my brand spankin' new purple purse:
1. pink wallet with green pen drawing on it (a la Girlio) (1)
2. crumpled diapers (2)
3. wipes, half dried out
4. empty tupperware snack containers (2)
5. lid to tupperware snack container that will fit neither of the above (1)
6. myriad of loose pennies
7. crumbs and goldfish (enough to cobble together a small meal if ever stuck in a wilderness survival situation)
8. to-do lists, half-finished (2.5)
9. month old shopping list (1)
10. OB tampon, still in plastic, but covered in teethmarks (1) (ahem, yes, in a pinch, I occassionally let the child teeth on a tampon- What of it?!)
11. lipstick, mushed at the tip from Boy-o's over-enthusiastic attempts at moustache drawing (1)
12. granola bar, half eaten (1)
13. expired coupons (3)
*I can't believe I almost forgot to check the pockets*
14. cell phone (dead as a doornail) (1)
Okay. This exercise has taught me two very important lessons:
1. Maybe the purse isn't quite mine-all-mine yet, and 2. you really can tell a lot about my life from the contents of my purse.
(but at least it's a darn snappy-lookin' purse).
Sunday, November 7, 2010
kids and community responsibility
We went to the Humane Society this afternoon, where Boy-o proudly handed over his twenty dollars to "help the animals have a place to live or get fixed when they get hurt."
For a few months now, we've been collecting and keeping the recyclables that we pay a deposit for. Initially, L. and I decided to start doing it because it would be another small way to save a bit of money here and there. But this morning, as we were getting ready to take the bottles and cans to the depot, we hatched a different sort of plan. We would take the money we got back from our trip to the depot and let Boy-o decide on an organization he would like to donate it to, creating an important lesson (one of many, I hope) about community responsibility and social privilege.
When we explained the plan to Boy-o, by saying that we were so lucky, that we had each other and our kitties and enough to eat and a warm cozy house full of toys to play with and books to read, but that not everybody was as lucky as we are. We asked if he thought he'd like to use the money we earned from returning our recyclables to help other people, and he (big hearted child that he is) thought it was a great idea. Next - how to decide where to give the money for our first homemade bottle-drive donation, without completely overwhelming him...
We narrowed it down to three choices: We could help people who didn't have enough food to eat or a place to live and donate our money to a homeless shelter; we could help buy stuffed animals for kids that were feeling sad and getting help from Mama's organization (*the Sexual Assault Centre of Edmonton has a great need for new stuffed animals for kids who are received counselling services at SACE), or we could help animals that needed a place to live or needed to get fixed after being hurt, and give our money to The Humane Society of Edmonton. Boy-o immediately chose to help animals, and off to the Humane Society we went, his twenty bucks clutched firmly in hand.
After dropping off the money and checking out the new Humane Society and its super-cute occupants, we headed home. Boy-o was unusually quiet, so we checked in to see where he was at after the day's activities. "It made me feel really happy in my heart," he assured us. "Next time, let's give the money to people who don't have a place to live." I'd be lying if my heart wasn't working overtime right then at that moment...
Even though today's project was a great success, I am hyper aware that it is a bit of a tricky thing to try and instill ideas about social responsibility in the small set. There is a pretty fine line between not telling kids enough about the world, and telling them too much. While I don't agree with sheltering kids from the fact that there are many things in need of fixing in our world, I also don't think it's right to overwhelm them with too many details about social problems.
Yet, even at the age of three, Boy-o knows peripheral information about various kinds of social problems. For example, he knows that there is too much pollution in our world, and that this hurts the earth. He is aware that some people (and animals) don't have a place to live. He's aware of this fact in large part because he's noticed homeless folks and I'm not prepared to lie about it. He knows that his mommy works in a courtroom with people that sometime use pushing and hitting to try and solve their problems, and he knows his mama volunteers on a crisis line because sometimes people get sad and need someone to talk to - and so on and so forth.
But the slippery slope of him knowing these kinds of things, even in such vague generalities is we run the risk of having kids who are overwhelmed with the immensity of change needed in our world and filled with anxiety. So we also need to be talking about and demonstrating that there are concrete things we can do to build and rebuild community, to help people in need, to make change where we can. I hope that this project will be a way to introduce the need for community engagement and also reinforce the idea that we can all do something to help make change, in big or small ways.
For a few months now, we've been collecting and keeping the recyclables that we pay a deposit for. Initially, L. and I decided to start doing it because it would be another small way to save a bit of money here and there. But this morning, as we were getting ready to take the bottles and cans to the depot, we hatched a different sort of plan. We would take the money we got back from our trip to the depot and let Boy-o decide on an organization he would like to donate it to, creating an important lesson (one of many, I hope) about community responsibility and social privilege.
When we explained the plan to Boy-o, by saying that we were so lucky, that we had each other and our kitties and enough to eat and a warm cozy house full of toys to play with and books to read, but that not everybody was as lucky as we are. We asked if he thought he'd like to use the money we earned from returning our recyclables to help other people, and he (big hearted child that he is) thought it was a great idea. Next - how to decide where to give the money for our first homemade bottle-drive donation, without completely overwhelming him...
We narrowed it down to three choices: We could help people who didn't have enough food to eat or a place to live and donate our money to a homeless shelter; we could help buy stuffed animals for kids that were feeling sad and getting help from Mama's organization (*the Sexual Assault Centre of Edmonton has a great need for new stuffed animals for kids who are received counselling services at SACE), or we could help animals that needed a place to live or needed to get fixed after being hurt, and give our money to The Humane Society of Edmonton. Boy-o immediately chose to help animals, and off to the Humane Society we went, his twenty bucks clutched firmly in hand.
After dropping off the money and checking out the new Humane Society and its super-cute occupants, we headed home. Boy-o was unusually quiet, so we checked in to see where he was at after the day's activities. "It made me feel really happy in my heart," he assured us. "Next time, let's give the money to people who don't have a place to live." I'd be lying if my heart wasn't working overtime right then at that moment...
Even though today's project was a great success, I am hyper aware that it is a bit of a tricky thing to try and instill ideas about social responsibility in the small set. There is a pretty fine line between not telling kids enough about the world, and telling them too much. While I don't agree with sheltering kids from the fact that there are many things in need of fixing in our world, I also don't think it's right to overwhelm them with too many details about social problems.
Yet, even at the age of three, Boy-o knows peripheral information about various kinds of social problems. For example, he knows that there is too much pollution in our world, and that this hurts the earth. He is aware that some people (and animals) don't have a place to live. He's aware of this fact in large part because he's noticed homeless folks and I'm not prepared to lie about it. He knows that his mommy works in a courtroom with people that sometime use pushing and hitting to try and solve their problems, and he knows his mama volunteers on a crisis line because sometimes people get sad and need someone to talk to - and so on and so forth.
But the slippery slope of him knowing these kinds of things, even in such vague generalities is we run the risk of having kids who are overwhelmed with the immensity of change needed in our world and filled with anxiety. So we also need to be talking about and demonstrating that there are concrete things we can do to build and rebuild community, to help people in need, to make change where we can. I hope that this project will be a way to introduce the need for community engagement and also reinforce the idea that we can all do something to help make change, in big or small ways.
Morning after the time-change...
It is hard to get fussed about the baby being up at 5:30 a.m., when:
1. it's really 6:30 a.m. and thus a 'sleep-in,' and;
2. she's grinning at you, reaching up her arms and chanting "happy, happy, happy!"
Saturday, November 6, 2010
How to talk about racism
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b0Ti-gkJiXc&feature=player_embedded
Click this awesome and fantastic link about how to call people on racist BS. Watch and share, far and wide :)
Click this awesome and fantastic link about how to call people on racist BS. Watch and share, far and wide :)
Wowsah!
I woke up (really grumpy and really stinkin' early) to this email:
"I just wanted to let you know that A Queer Family Grows In Redneckville has been nominated in the Family & Parenting, Feminist, and LGBTQ categories of the 2010 Canadian Weblog Awards!
This is a new, juried competition with public nominations. The shortlists of nominees will be announced on 1 December 2010, and the finalists will be announced on 1 January 2011. If you would like to show off your nomination, grab a button for your website and spread the word.
Congratulations! "
I knew this was coming, because my really kind nominee let me know ahead of time. And yet it still feels like my birthday and Christmas all rolled into one. (Thanks Erica - I'm feeling far less grumpy now).
"I just wanted to let you know that A Queer Family Grows In Redneckville has been nominated in the Family & Parenting, Feminist, and LGBTQ categories of the 2010 Canadian Weblog Awards!
This is a new, juried competition with public nominations. The shortlists of nominees will be announced on 1 December 2010, and the finalists will be announced on 1 January 2011. If you would like to show off your nomination, grab a button for your website and spread the word.
Congratulations! "
I knew this was coming, because my really kind nominee let me know ahead of time. And yet it still feels like my birthday and Christmas all rolled into one. (Thanks Erica - I'm feeling far less grumpy now).
Friday, November 5, 2010
Say What?!
A few nights ago, my daughter was sitting in her highchair eating supper. Well, okay, refusing to eat supper. Until I hand over her "baby" to play with. She wouldn't eat her supper until I let her hold her dolly. When I finally handed over the goods, she cradled the doll, kisses its plastic forehead (and then promptly threw it on the floor and proceeded to eat).
The doll, Stella, was actually Boy-o's. Sort of. He never even gave it a sidelong glance. Not one. (Perhaps, like his mama, he thinks those little plastic face dolls are freaking weird). Plastic doll creepiness aside, I encouraged doll play (with that and a nice soft, cuddly boy doll), and he pooh-poohed every last bit of encouragement. So Stella (and baby boy doll) sat in the corner, untouched until baby-sister came along. I did not, I repeat NOT encourage baby sister to play with Stella. (Why you might ask, would I encourage my boy and not my girl towards playing with dolls? Because, in short, I believe that boys are socialized against the instinct of loving and nurturing towards others, where girls are completely over-socialized towards caring and nurturing for others.
While I won't discourage Girlio from doll play, neither will I go out and buy her the pink baby doll with pink baby doll furniture. Anyhoo...) And yet, play with it she did. One day a few weeks ago, Girlio came upon Stella. And what did she do? She promptly picked up baby Stella, pronounced it "BayBeee" and nestled her gently in her arms. And then didn't she reach down and pop a sweet, slobbery forehead kiss on that doll? Sure did.
Best intentions aside, Girlio has already learned to nuture. And Boy-o? Well, the nurturing bit is a work in progress.
So in this instance, anyways, the score thus far seems to be:
Gender-f*ck parenting - 0, Rest of the world - 1.
(But ya'll know I'll keep trying :)
The doll, Stella, was actually Boy-o's. Sort of. He never even gave it a sidelong glance. Not one. (Perhaps, like his mama, he thinks those little plastic face dolls are freaking weird). Plastic doll creepiness aside, I encouraged doll play (with that and a nice soft, cuddly boy doll), and he pooh-poohed every last bit of encouragement. So Stella (and baby boy doll) sat in the corner, untouched until baby-sister came along. I did not, I repeat NOT encourage baby sister to play with Stella. (Why you might ask, would I encourage my boy and not my girl towards playing with dolls? Because, in short, I believe that boys are socialized against the instinct of loving and nurturing towards others, where girls are completely over-socialized towards caring and nurturing for others.
While I won't discourage Girlio from doll play, neither will I go out and buy her the pink baby doll with pink baby doll furniture. Anyhoo...) And yet, play with it she did. One day a few weeks ago, Girlio came upon Stella. And what did she do? She promptly picked up baby Stella, pronounced it "BayBeee" and nestled her gently in her arms. And then didn't she reach down and pop a sweet, slobbery forehead kiss on that doll? Sure did.
Best intentions aside, Girlio has already learned to nuture. And Boy-o? Well, the nurturing bit is a work in progress.
So in this instance, anyways, the score thus far seems to be:
Gender-f*ck parenting - 0, Rest of the world - 1.
(But ya'll know I'll keep trying :)
Thursday, November 4, 2010
To Donor or not to donor, Part II
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/opinions/opinion/parentage-is-about-more-than-dna/article1775470/
We (I'm talking as a culture here) are all pretty darned hung up on biology. On some level, we really do seem to believe that our biology is what defines who we are, particularly in the context of our families. We have many cultural narratives which speak of the tragedy of 'not knowing our roots' and what we really mean by such expressions is not being able to trace our biological line. The very first thing people say of a baby (right after, is it a boy or a girl?) is "who does she look like?" or "Oh, she has so and so's eyes." Or "Oh he totally looks like his daddy." These assertions are, in part, due to (and also reinforcement of) our prizing of genetic connection over all others.
So what is it that 'roots' us? What is it that defines a person? What is it that defines a family? While clearly there isn't a consensus on this issue, hence lawsuits by folks like Olivia Pratten, who I've spoken of previously. Pratton is the child of parents who had fertility struggles and conceived her with the use of a sperm donor. She is currently suing the BC government to change the legislation enforcing the anonymity of sperm donors. Angela Campbell and Robert Leckey's article "Parentage is about more than DNA" in Thursday's Globe and Mail continues the scrutiny on Pratten's case and the issues surrounding it. I am happy to say that I found it far less offensive than the article explored in To Donor or not to donor, Part I. (In no small part because, you know, they didn't compare me to a rapist or war criminal or child stealer. Anyhoo...)
As one might guess from their article's title, Campbell and Leckey challenge the notion put forward by Pratton and others that their biogical donor creates half of who they are, arguing that this is both a scientically wrong and socially driven idea: "all humans have 99 per cent of their DNA in common. A parent and child share slightly more, 99.5 per cent."
They continue on to note:
"The rhetoric of genetic connection risks erasing social bonds between parents and children. It implies that identity results from genetics. And the idea that genetic origin makes people who they are devalues diverse means by which people form families. Consider adoptive parents or parents who conceive through assisted conception. They may be gay or straight. Such parents are not mere caretakers of someone else’s genetic heritage. They contribute to their child’s identity."
*and after reading that paragraph, I heard the proverbial choir of angels singing*
Campbell and Leckey also point out some potential troubling features which could arise from the lawsuit - asking if children of donor insemination have the right to identify their anonymous donors, would the reverse also hold true? Would donors then also have the right to trace their 'children'? Is a donor's right to privacy to be held in less regard than a child's right to know the identity of their donor? These questions are all valuable and worthy of further consideration.
I don't doubt hat some adopted children and some donor-conceived children, like Pratton, feel like they are missing knowledge about 'who they are.' And I certainly don't mean to minimize feeling of pain or distress that has arisen for some around this issue. But I do spend a great deal of time wondering how much of this feeling of a 'lack' is innate, and how much of this is due to our cultural insistance that a shared biology is the most important element of family, of history, of our rootedness.
Whatever the reasons behind the distress experienced by some kids who don't know their genetic ties, in the end, I strongly believe that we need to change our system in Canada to allow for donors to be "willing to be known" or anonymous (as I also believe is their right if they wish). There must be a balance of rights for both donors and children of assisted reproduction. For me, this sort of legislative change would be the best and fairest possible judicial outcome.
I am also hoping though, that this case makes possible changes that go beyond the scope of government and judiciary. I, like the authors of this article, would like to see a growing awareness of (and a shift away from) our cultural reliance on biology as the be-all-and-end-all of identity. We are made of, and influenced by, so much more than our chromosonal make-up. Families are made of, and grow out of, so much more than "having so and so's eyes" or the attribution of personality quirks to one biological parent or another. I'm sure every one of us has people who are non-biologically related whom we find just as much a part of our family (or more a part of our family) than those we are biologically related to. Moreover, a biological connection to one's parents does not guarantee children a safe, loving and healthy childhood, nor does a lack of biological connection guarantee the reverse.
I will support my children in whatever feelings they may (or may not) have about being born through the assistance of an anonymous sperm donor. I will do this because it's my job to support them to the best of my ability in whatever paths and twists and ups and downs their lives take. It's our job to try our best to support our kids without regard for how we feel about the paths they choose. *Because that's what a parent does.* I hope that someday the laws in our country might be changed so that if they and their donor wanted to meet, they could (though this might feel pretty strange to me, and undoubtably to their mommy as well).
But I will never, ever budge in my insistence that our cultural dependence of the bonds of biology is anything other than totally bunk. I flinch, both inwardly and likely also visibly, when someone refers to my children's "biological father." Jeezuz. My children don't have a father, biological or otherwise. Their donor (this is the term to use, folks) will never be and can never be their father. Not in any way. Not at all. That's just the way it is.
If parents are born - it is through the process of being a parent, (and all of the joys and turmoils that process entails) - not by reason of sharing a few extra chromosomes.
We (I'm talking as a culture here) are all pretty darned hung up on biology. On some level, we really do seem to believe that our biology is what defines who we are, particularly in the context of our families. We have many cultural narratives which speak of the tragedy of 'not knowing our roots' and what we really mean by such expressions is not being able to trace our biological line. The very first thing people say of a baby (right after, is it a boy or a girl?) is "who does she look like?" or "Oh, she has so and so's eyes." Or "Oh he totally looks like his daddy." These assertions are, in part, due to (and also reinforcement of) our prizing of genetic connection over all others.
So what is it that 'roots' us? What is it that defines a person? What is it that defines a family? While clearly there isn't a consensus on this issue, hence lawsuits by folks like Olivia Pratten, who I've spoken of previously. Pratton is the child of parents who had fertility struggles and conceived her with the use of a sperm donor. She is currently suing the BC government to change the legislation enforcing the anonymity of sperm donors. Angela Campbell and Robert Leckey's article "Parentage is about more than DNA" in Thursday's Globe and Mail continues the scrutiny on Pratten's case and the issues surrounding it. I am happy to say that I found it far less offensive than the article explored in To Donor or not to donor, Part I. (In no small part because, you know, they didn't compare me to a rapist or war criminal or child stealer. Anyhoo...)
As one might guess from their article's title, Campbell and Leckey challenge the notion put forward by Pratton and others that their biogical donor creates half of who they are, arguing that this is both a scientically wrong and socially driven idea: "all humans have 99 per cent of their DNA in common. A parent and child share slightly more, 99.5 per cent."
They continue on to note:
"The rhetoric of genetic connection risks erasing social bonds between parents and children. It implies that identity results from genetics. And the idea that genetic origin makes people who they are devalues diverse means by which people form families. Consider adoptive parents or parents who conceive through assisted conception. They may be gay or straight. Such parents are not mere caretakers of someone else’s genetic heritage. They contribute to their child’s identity."
*and after reading that paragraph, I heard the proverbial choir of angels singing*
Campbell and Leckey also point out some potential troubling features which could arise from the lawsuit - asking if children of donor insemination have the right to identify their anonymous donors, would the reverse also hold true? Would donors then also have the right to trace their 'children'? Is a donor's right to privacy to be held in less regard than a child's right to know the identity of their donor? These questions are all valuable and worthy of further consideration.
I don't doubt hat some adopted children and some donor-conceived children, like Pratton, feel like they are missing knowledge about 'who they are.' And I certainly don't mean to minimize feeling of pain or distress that has arisen for some around this issue. But I do spend a great deal of time wondering how much of this feeling of a 'lack' is innate, and how much of this is due to our cultural insistance that a shared biology is the most important element of family, of history, of our rootedness.
Whatever the reasons behind the distress experienced by some kids who don't know their genetic ties, in the end, I strongly believe that we need to change our system in Canada to allow for donors to be "willing to be known" or anonymous (as I also believe is their right if they wish). There must be a balance of rights for both donors and children of assisted reproduction. For me, this sort of legislative change would be the best and fairest possible judicial outcome.
I am also hoping though, that this case makes possible changes that go beyond the scope of government and judiciary. I, like the authors of this article, would like to see a growing awareness of (and a shift away from) our cultural reliance on biology as the be-all-and-end-all of identity. We are made of, and influenced by, so much more than our chromosonal make-up. Families are made of, and grow out of, so much more than "having so and so's eyes" or the attribution of personality quirks to one biological parent or another. I'm sure every one of us has people who are non-biologically related whom we find just as much a part of our family (or more a part of our family) than those we are biologically related to. Moreover, a biological connection to one's parents does not guarantee children a safe, loving and healthy childhood, nor does a lack of biological connection guarantee the reverse.
I will support my children in whatever feelings they may (or may not) have about being born through the assistance of an anonymous sperm donor. I will do this because it's my job to support them to the best of my ability in whatever paths and twists and ups and downs their lives take. It's our job to try our best to support our kids without regard for how we feel about the paths they choose. *Because that's what a parent does.* I hope that someday the laws in our country might be changed so that if they and their donor wanted to meet, they could (though this might feel pretty strange to me, and undoubtably to their mommy as well).
But I will never, ever budge in my insistence that our cultural dependence of the bonds of biology is anything other than totally bunk. I flinch, both inwardly and likely also visibly, when someone refers to my children's "biological father." Jeezuz. My children don't have a father, biological or otherwise. Their donor (this is the term to use, folks) will never be and can never be their father. Not in any way. Not at all. That's just the way it is.
If parents are born - it is through the process of being a parent, (and all of the joys and turmoils that process entails) - not by reason of sharing a few extra chromosomes.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
This will take just a second of your time...
Iranian authorities could kill Sakineh Ashtiani today.
This July, a global outcry saved her from death by stoning. Now, the Iranian government has issued execution orders based on trumped-up charges -- and she could be killed within a day. We have only a few hours to get world leaders with influence in Iran to do all they can to save her life.
International pressure is the only way.
Please follow the link below and sign your name to the pre-written email. That's all it takes. If you feel like taking an extra second, share the above link, or make a phone call on Sakineh's behalf.
https://secure.avaaz.org/en/24h_to_save_sakineh/?rc=fb
This July, a global outcry saved her from death by stoning. Now, the Iranian government has issued execution orders based on trumped-up charges -- and she could be killed within a day. We have only a few hours to get world leaders with influence in Iran to do all they can to save her life.
International pressure is the only way.
Please follow the link below and sign your name to the pre-written email. That's all it takes. If you feel like taking an extra second, share the above link, or make a phone call on Sakineh's behalf.
https://secure.avaaz.org/en/24h_to_save_sakineh/?rc=fb
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
To Donor or not to donor... Part I
I know I've been MIA for a few days. I've been busy delving into the news coverage surrounding the recent court challenge brought on by BC woman, Olivia Pratten, who is suing to find out the identity of the sperm donor used to conceive her. I'll likely be talking about this here and there as more coverage comes up...
To say that I have conflicted feelings about this case, as well as the rhetoric being used to discuss it, would be a serious understatement.
Let me start by saying that overall, I think that Canada needs to change its assisted reproduction laws. The United States already makes it possible for donors to choose whether or not they are willing to be contacted when children conceived using their sperm reach the age of consent. Like with adoption, some donors want this to be an option, and some do not. Donors do not have any financial obligations towards genetic offspring, nor could they sue for custody, as far as I am aware. In Canada, it is not legal for donors to be anything other than completely anonymous, which is my opinion, is just legislative laziness.
Should either of our kiddos feel a glaring hole in their lives because they can't meet their donor, I certainly would want for them to be able to do that, because what I want most in this world, more than anything else, is for our kiddos to be happy, fulfilled, secure in themselves.
HOWEVER (and this however is big, bold, underlined, and italicized because I mean it very, super, extra, incredibly, and emphatically) the rhetoric being used to discuss this case is very disturbing and unsettling to me. Like, causing me to lose sleep kind of unsettling.
One article, which I couldn't even bring myself to look at was titled: "Do you know who my Daddy is?" which makes me want to punch someone's lights out 1) because it invokes the voice of my children to make its point, which I resent the hell out of, and 2) because as I had previously expounded on, a donor is not a fucking daddy, people.
Another article, linked here, I really wish I hadn't read. The author, Margaret Somerville, compares both adoption and assisted reproduction to residential schools, invokes rape as a metaphor, and compares my sweet babies, who couldn't be conceived any other way, to the making of designer children made from the DNA of beautiful people, and then terms them "genetic orphans". You may get the sense, while reading this, that I think Margaret Somerville is a special, special kind of person. And you will be correct.
I cried while I read it. I cried after I read it. I'm close to crying right now while I'm typing.
Here's a few of the gems from Somerville's piece:
"Donor conception may be a completely avoidable human tragedy in the making, one for which we might be holding a truth and reconciliation commission at some future date, when offspring ask, as some are already doing, “How could you have done this to us? How could you have allowed this to happen?”
Is donor conception the 21st-century version of the wrongs we now recognize we did to some children in the 20th century? Are we repeating in a new context and in new ways the terrible errors and grave injustices that occurred with Australia’s “stolen generation” of aboriginal children, the United Kingdom’s “home children” sent to Canada and other British Commonwealth countries, and the “scoop” of native children from reserves into Canadian residential schools and white adoptive homes, all of which deliberately separated children from their biological families."
I'm not even sure I can adequately detail the levels on which this article is deeply, deeply offensive. So for starters, let's chat a second about her logic. In comparing donor conception to the aforementioned tragedies, she is missing the point that said tragedies involve children were stolen away from their families. Families who were busy raising them - who knew them, who loved them, who were emotionally tied to them - who had an existing relationship. One might surmise a child stolen away from their adoptive family or a donor-assisted family in such a circumstance would similarly suffer to a child taken away from their biological family. It is not the shared set of chromosomes that makes the severing of the above mentioned families a terrible ordeal - it is the loss of family itself, whatever its make-up or origins.
And a truth and reconciliation commission? For serious? Really? No, really?
My children, and my participation in creating them, are a completely avoidable tragedy? Wow. Um, okay.
You would think that Ms. Somerville couldn't possibly get more offensive. But then you'd be, you know, wrong. Later on in her article, she asks: "How will the child feel knowing that their genetic parent sold – and that their social parent bought – what is (as one donor-conceived woman put it) “the essence of [their] life for $25 to a total stranger, and then walked away without a second look back? What kind of a man sells himself and his child so cheaply and so easily?”
*and just when you think it could not possibly get any better*
"An argument that is used to support donor conception is that the child would not exist otherwise and, therefore, should not complain. One young donor-conceived woman, confronted with this argument, responded, “If I were the result of rape, I would still be glad to be alive, but that doesn’t mean I or any one else should approve of rape.”
Whew. So - I've bought the essence of my children's lives and I'm akin to a rapist. Super. Super. Super. I'm just gonna head out back and shoot myself now.
And then, there's the reference to the donor walking away from 'his child'. Not so, friends. Sperm does not equal parentage. I've said it once, I'll say it a million times. I love my donor, bless his heart, for spoofing in a cup for us and others like us. I don't know if his actions were selfless, and I don't know why he did it. (I do know, incidentally that it wasn't for 25$, because he's a well paid, well educated fellow). His actions allowed my partner and I to become parents to two of the most beautiful, funny, little characters I had ever known. His actions were and will always be a gift to us. To reduce those actions to child abandonment is really quite crap-tastic.
I haven't missed, nor should you, the fact that Somerville uses these salacious quotes from children conceived through donor sperm. I am not naive enough to believe that all children conceived through donor sperm are hunky-dory with it 100% of the time. However, the term "vocal minority" is a term for a reason. And kids who are a-okay with being conceived via donor insemination or other forms of assisted reproduction don't sell papers. You get my drift here?
Margaret Somerville masquerades as an ethicist at McGill University, but I think is more likely a poorly disguised poster child for right-wing christian theological dogma, (sperm is the essence of life? Sperm? hmmmm). To say that her logic is flawed would be another one of my understatements of the day. On top of this, she is a fear-monger. I wouldn't have been so affected by her words if it weren't for the fact I'm hyper aware that my kids- these beautiful, loved and incredibly wanted children - will have to face up to ignorant crap from bullies like her in their lives.
And I like to keep track of what we're up against...
To say that I have conflicted feelings about this case, as well as the rhetoric being used to discuss it, would be a serious understatement.
Let me start by saying that overall, I think that Canada needs to change its assisted reproduction laws. The United States already makes it possible for donors to choose whether or not they are willing to be contacted when children conceived using their sperm reach the age of consent. Like with adoption, some donors want this to be an option, and some do not. Donors do not have any financial obligations towards genetic offspring, nor could they sue for custody, as far as I am aware. In Canada, it is not legal for donors to be anything other than completely anonymous, which is my opinion, is just legislative laziness.
Should either of our kiddos feel a glaring hole in their lives because they can't meet their donor, I certainly would want for them to be able to do that, because what I want most in this world, more than anything else, is for our kiddos to be happy, fulfilled, secure in themselves.
HOWEVER (and this however is big, bold, underlined, and italicized because I mean it very, super, extra, incredibly, and emphatically) the rhetoric being used to discuss this case is very disturbing and unsettling to me. Like, causing me to lose sleep kind of unsettling.
One article, which I couldn't even bring myself to look at was titled: "Do you know who my Daddy is?" which makes me want to punch someone's lights out 1) because it invokes the voice of my children to make its point, which I resent the hell out of, and 2) because as I had previously expounded on, a donor is not a fucking daddy, people.
Another article, linked here, I really wish I hadn't read. The author, Margaret Somerville, compares both adoption and assisted reproduction to residential schools, invokes rape as a metaphor, and compares my sweet babies, who couldn't be conceived any other way, to the making of designer children made from the DNA of beautiful people, and then terms them "genetic orphans". You may get the sense, while reading this, that I think Margaret Somerville is a special, special kind of person. And you will be correct.
I cried while I read it. I cried after I read it. I'm close to crying right now while I'm typing.
Here's a few of the gems from Somerville's piece:
"Donor conception may be a completely avoidable human tragedy in the making, one for which we might be holding a truth and reconciliation commission at some future date, when offspring ask, as some are already doing, “How could you have done this to us? How could you have allowed this to happen?”
Is donor conception the 21st-century version of the wrongs we now recognize we did to some children in the 20th century? Are we repeating in a new context and in new ways the terrible errors and grave injustices that occurred with Australia’s “stolen generation” of aboriginal children, the United Kingdom’s “home children” sent to Canada and other British Commonwealth countries, and the “scoop” of native children from reserves into Canadian residential schools and white adoptive homes, all of which deliberately separated children from their biological families."
I'm not even sure I can adequately detail the levels on which this article is deeply, deeply offensive. So for starters, let's chat a second about her logic. In comparing donor conception to the aforementioned tragedies, she is missing the point that said tragedies involve children were stolen away from their families. Families who were busy raising them - who knew them, who loved them, who were emotionally tied to them - who had an existing relationship. One might surmise a child stolen away from their adoptive family or a donor-assisted family in such a circumstance would similarly suffer to a child taken away from their biological family. It is not the shared set of chromosomes that makes the severing of the above mentioned families a terrible ordeal - it is the loss of family itself, whatever its make-up or origins.
And a truth and reconciliation commission? For serious? Really? No, really?
My children, and my participation in creating them, are a completely avoidable tragedy? Wow. Um, okay.
You would think that Ms. Somerville couldn't possibly get more offensive. But then you'd be, you know, wrong. Later on in her article, she asks: "How will the child feel knowing that their genetic parent sold – and that their social parent bought – what is (as one donor-conceived woman put it) “the essence of [their] life for $25 to a total stranger, and then walked away without a second look back? What kind of a man sells himself and his child so cheaply and so easily?”
*and just when you think it could not possibly get any better*
"An argument that is used to support donor conception is that the child would not exist otherwise and, therefore, should not complain. One young donor-conceived woman, confronted with this argument, responded, “If I were the result of rape, I would still be glad to be alive, but that doesn’t mean I or any one else should approve of rape.”
Whew. So - I've bought the essence of my children's lives and I'm akin to a rapist. Super. Super. Super. I'm just gonna head out back and shoot myself now.
And then, there's the reference to the donor walking away from 'his child'. Not so, friends. Sperm does not equal parentage. I've said it once, I'll say it a million times. I love my donor, bless his heart, for spoofing in a cup for us and others like us. I don't know if his actions were selfless, and I don't know why he did it. (I do know, incidentally that it wasn't for 25$, because he's a well paid, well educated fellow). His actions allowed my partner and I to become parents to two of the most beautiful, funny, little characters I had ever known. His actions were and will always be a gift to us. To reduce those actions to child abandonment is really quite crap-tastic.
I haven't missed, nor should you, the fact that Somerville uses these salacious quotes from children conceived through donor sperm. I am not naive enough to believe that all children conceived through donor sperm are hunky-dory with it 100% of the time. However, the term "vocal minority" is a term for a reason. And kids who are a-okay with being conceived via donor insemination or other forms of assisted reproduction don't sell papers. You get my drift here?
Margaret Somerville masquerades as an ethicist at McGill University, but I think is more likely a poorly disguised poster child for right-wing christian theological dogma, (sperm is the essence of life? Sperm? hmmmm). To say that her logic is flawed would be another one of my understatements of the day. On top of this, she is a fear-monger. I wouldn't have been so affected by her words if it weren't for the fact I'm hyper aware that my kids- these beautiful, loved and incredibly wanted children - will have to face up to ignorant crap from bullies like her in their lives.
And I like to keep track of what we're up against...
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