Monday, September 12, 2016

School Letter

If you're friends with me on Facebook, then you've heard that our first week of school with Quiet Tiger was really pretty much okay for the most part.  How's that for a description?  But what you may also have heard is that the weekend pretty much sucked because the girl stole food and lied about it to my face, with her sticky fingers in her mouth and then she proceeded to tear a huge hole in my own afghan, the first I ever knit, my favorite one in the house.  Talk about making the attack personal.  The hole was far beyond repair and I sobbed as I marched out to the garage with my beloved afghan that took me months to knit, dumping my treasure in the garbage can.  I couldn't even look at her much less speak to her after that.  

I really want to take a moment to thank those of you who took time to reach out to me after I posted our Sunday drama.  I really try to keep my Facebook positive.  I can't handle all the negativity out there and I want to be the good and post the good whenever I can.  But Sunday, it just needed to be negative because I was so hurt by her actions.  Those of you who reached out to me either by a comment, a private message or a text message, you need to know how meaningful it was to me to have you by my side.  So many of you get it because you are living it yourselves.  Thank you, precious friends.  There is no way I could have made it through my Sunday without you.

That long intro leads to today's post.  Below is the letter I sent to Quiet Tiger's school.  I had hoped to hand out more copies to more teachers who would be in direct contact with Quiet Tiger, but we didn't meet all the teachers at that crowded, chaotic school open house.  Many adoptive parents send letters  like this to their schools and teachers.  Jen Hatmaker, a famous blogger and adoptive mom, has written a pretty good one and I basically went off of that, but I had much more that I wanted to include.  I kept it as brief as possible, not wanting to go into multiple pages (mine was 1 page, printed front and back).



August 17, 2016

Dear Teachers and School Staff,

We are looking forward to the 2016-2017 school year and we are excited to be a part of [school name]!  As we are new to your school, we would like to take a brief moment of your time to introduce our family.

We are Jay and Brooke, dad and mom to 2 wonderful biological boys and 1 darling adopted daughter.  Our daughter is attending your school this year.  While we are certain that our girl is not the first adopted child to enter your facility, we hope that listening to a bit of her story might help you figure out the best way to help her succeed this school year.

Quiet Tiger came from an orphanage in northern China.  She spent the first 22 months of her life in an extremely harsh environment.  She knew abandonment, hunger, neglect, and abuses that would break your heart.  Be assured that even those 22 short months of time has left its scars on our beautiful daughter.  Today she knows a loving, stable home with family and many friends in the area.  But just because she came home, doesn't mean that she's completely okay and able to put the past behind her.

Two years ago we tried public school for her, sending her to pre-school 5 days a week, for half days.  Her teacher was an adoptive father of 9 children, 1 of whom had attachment disorders like our daughter.  We were beyond thrilled that Quiet Tiger would be learning from a man who understood our issues and concerns!  But sending our formerly institutionalized child back to an institution was not a good idea.

You see, often times, these traumatized, attachment challenged children can hold it all together during the school day.  They can charm their teachers, be the little classroom leaders, attentive little learners, sweet teachers' helpers and model students.  However, once home, these same children lose all control because they have had to hold it together for 8 hours a day.  This was the case for Quiet Tiger.  She was a model student at school and all the teachers adored her.  Once she saw me at the front of the school to pick her up, she would lose all control.  She wouldn't look me in the eye or sit on my lap, she'd push me away or hit me, she would hardly speak to me and when she did, she resorted to baby talk, she would begin bouncing off the walls.  Her teacher saw these behaviors and tried to help her connect with me, using his best adoptive dad techniques, his best teacher techniques, to no avail.  Once home, our daughter would continue to unleash all types of negative behavior including destruction of school books, ripping up carpet, even soiling her pants, despite being toilet trained for years.

Last year we attempted homeschooling for kindergarten.  We had high hopes that the time spent at home and with mom would solidify an unbreakable, secure bond and a great year of learning.  While we did certainly see both academic and emotional growth, in the end, we were not certain homeschool was the right fit for her.

That brings us to today.  We are going to give your school a fair shot and have our girl try public school once again.  Perhaps now Quiet Tiger has the emotional capacity to handle schoolwork and being away from mom and dad all day.  But she may not.  Yet we are willing to give it our best attempt, even if that includes seeking a school counselor, if one is available, assistance from our social worker or other local professionals.  

In addition to attachment and anxiety issues, our daughter has a physical difference -- she was born without her right hand.  We are excited to tell you that we have found absolutely nothing this girl cannot do!  She likes to do karate, play tennis, swing from monkey bars, she will be able to tie her shoes, with help from a wristband and some Velcro she can jump rope!  In all things, we encourage her to find a way to do things that 2-handed children can do.  We do not exclude her from anything and assume your staff will do the same.  Quiet Tiger was not created to hide; she was created to shine!  Of course, we hope that you will help fellow students treat her respectfully and remind them that unkind words cannot be unheard.  We welcome questions from children because they are curious and simply want to learn and understand!  If we can come to your classroom to talk about physical differences, we would love to do so.  We have a few age appropriate books and family friendly websites to share with the students to better understand Quiet Tiger’s little hand.

Lastly, we would be remiss if we didn't kindly ask for your sensitivity on any class project regarding genealogy, family history, birth stories, et cetera.  These are topics that can be very hurtful to an adopted child.  If any such subject matter is to be planned, we would appreciate advanced notice so that we can work with you as a team on how best to approach this subject with our daughter.

We ask for your gentle understanding as we parent a child from a hard place.  We are thankful that we can count on you as members of Team Quiet Tiger!  We fully hope this year is a banner year for Quiet Tiger and that you can be a part of seeing a world of growth in our daughter this year.  If you have any questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to contact us immediately.

Here's to a great year!

Jay & Brooke


Links about attachment disorders & childhood trauma:




      A quick PS to my blog readers and other families struggling with attachment disorder.  I wish I would have had the link below to include in the letter.  It was sent to me yesterday by one of my friends walking this road of adoption with me.  I loved this link and I think you will too.  It's lengthy, but it does explain things very well for teachers.


Tuesday, September 6, 2016

School Girl

Today is the first day of public school here in Minnesota and it is Quiet Tiger's first day of kindergarten at our local elementary school.




A year of homeschool kindergarten nearly killed me.  Homeschooling my boys had always filled me up in ways I never knew existed.  It works for them and I would never in a million years ever think of sending them back to public school.  But sadly, homeschooling isn't right for Quiet Tiger and today she boarded that big yellow bus and went off to public school.

AND I HATE IT!
I HATE EVERY BIT OF IT!

This momma is one giant bag of mixed emotions today.  Bear with me as I unpack this chaos that is my brain.

Today I feel sad.

My baby is going off to kindergarten.   She has grown up so much and now she enters a big world out there without me.  No matter how hard we struggle with each other, I'm sad to let her go.

Today I feel anxious.

What you may or may not remember is that this very week, 6 years ago, Quiet Tiger's birth family abandoned her.  [And that noise you just heard was the collective sound of the crashing hearts of all those adoptive mommas out there who understand just exactly what that means.]  From all I have researched and written about here, we know that trauma doesn't tell time.  Quiet Tiger's brain does remember that day.  And what am I doing?  Here I am, abandoning her all over again... to the public school system... so very near of that dreaded 'trauma-versary.'  I know she will be cared for and we have told her time and again that she will come home every afternoon, but the timing of this couldn't be worse.  My heart aches that school has to start so late here in Minnesota, all thanks to our dumb State Fair.

Today I feel like a complete failure.

I worked my @$$ off last year to teach kindergarten to my daughter.  And she did learn.  She did!    Jay would come home at the end of the night and she'd be quick and excited to rattle off all she learned for him.  But she fought me.  She'd insist that 1+1 does not equal 2 despite using blocks and manipulatives.  She'd 'forget' how to count.  She never learned to read, not even to pre-read.  She seemed to 'check out' about 6-8 weeks before our 36 weeks of school was complete.  It felt like I had watched her hit a physical wall.  She couldn't do it anymore.  And yet we pushed onward.  I gave it my all and I feel like I failed her.  I deal with that a lot -- feeling like I have failed her in almost every realm of her daily life.  No matter how hard I try, I feel like I fail over and over again.

Today I feel angry.

Let's be completely honest here.  I'm not happy with our public school system.  Sure, there are great districts out there.  I was part of one when I was a kid and I'm thankful for the education I was blessed with!  And ours here may even be one of those great districts too.  And yes, there are awesome teachers and school administrators out there.  Some of my dearest friends are among those people.  This is not meant to slam them at all, please know that!  But I'm angry at how chaotic our school's open house was, particularly for those of us brand new to the school, it's staff and it's facility.  I'm angry that the teacher gave us less than 60 seconds of her time and seemed wildly overwhelmed.  I'm angry that we got sent home with a mountain of paperwork to go through, complete with papers to sign, initial and send back over a holiday weekend.  I'm angry that we were handed a homework project before school even began, to be completed on a holiday weekend.  I'm angry that she'll have homework through the school year.  I've been a homeschool mom long enough to read the studies that homework does not increase a child's knowledge, only piles on the stress and exhaustion after an already long day [for a 6 year old].  I'm angry that we have to be tied down to a rigid school schedule, dumb school rules and basically be at the mercy of teachers and school staff.  I'm angry that from this point on forward in the school year, I don't get any say about my daughter's education.

Today I feel fearful.

Do you remember what happened when we tried sending Quiet Tiger to preschool in Texas?  Because of that, I'm so scared of who will be coming home off that bus this afternoon.  I'm so scared that she'll be disregulated and off the wall and unable to connect with me.  I'm scared that she's going to resort to all kinds of negative behaviors.  I'm scared that we may have to relive that all over again and try hard to overcome.

Today I feel happy.

Wait, what?  After everything I just wrote above, I feel happy?  I told you I was a mixed bag of emotions.  I'm happy to be getting a break from this child.  I'm happy someone else gets to deal with her for 8 hours a day.  I'm happy that I will get to give my boys my best when it comes to their education.  And I'm happy that my boys will get a break from their sister too.  I'm happy that our school social worker has already called me to discuss some of our concerns about attachment disorder.  I'm happy that our principal is a relatively new adoptive dad who sees attachment disorder in his own daughter.  I'm happy that our school has current, fresh experience with a child with a limb difference.

Today I feel hopeful.

With all these wild emotions, I cling to hope.  I hope with all my heart that Quiet Tiger will learn this year.  I hope that she'll have a leg up on her peers academically, thanks to a year of homeschool under her belt.  I have hope that she'll learn to read.  I have hope that she will enjoy spending time with children her own age.  I hope that she will continue to grow emotionally and catch up to her peers on an emotional level.  I hope that she will be able to handle the time away from mom and brothers.  I have hope that maybe, just maybe, only 1 year of public school will be all she needs and that next year we can bring her home to give her the education that I strongly desire for her.  I have hope that this year will be an amazing year for Quiet Tiger.