Acting Fun

Briana as Alice in the beginning listening to her sister read her a story before she falls down the hole.

When we heard the Kirksville Parks and Recreation Department was putting on a performance of Alice in Wonderland, Briana desperately wanted to try out. She loves the book, has read it twice, and she simply loves acting. So, she talked Alan into trying out with her, and they spent several weeks this summer learning lines and rehearsing. The performances were this last weekend, and I've had a couple requests to share pictures and video, so that's the purpose of this post.Briana as Alice when she first falls down the hole and meets the 'late' rabbit

Three different actors portrayed the character of Alice. Briana was the original Alice, but when she started drinking from bottles and eating strange foods, the actress changed to portray shorter and taller Alices. At times (because it was Wonderland, afterall!!) all three Alices took the stage together.

She wouldn't fit through the little door, so she tried a drink from the talking bottles.
Alan had two different roles, in addition to being a member of the chorus. Below, he is a mouse (far left) who is hanging out with a dodo bird, a duck, and a turtle.
At another time, he was a cook who sprinkled pepper on a baby everytime it cried.
I'm having a hard time uploading the videos, so I'll try another post tomorrow for your viewing pleasure. It's kind of fun--Briana is on the front page of the Tuesday edition of the Kirksville Daily Express. Check it out if you have access--it's a great picture! I'm going to have to figure out how to get some copies for family and her scrapbook.

It's That Time

I recently finished Barbara Shelton's monster of a book on how to home school high school, Senior High: A Home-Designed Formula.

I feel:

refreshed by the reading and a renewed focus

overwhelmed by what all I want/need to do

inspired by her vision and the many possibilities

motivated to seek the Lord and give my very best to my children these last few years

scared of messing up this most important task of my life

excited to learn along with them and see what God does with their lives

nervous about how to do this and how ill-equipped I am

pumped about planning

reassured that God equips us for the task

Our Baseball Season

"He's just an all-around good ball player," one of Destry's past coaches said to me after one of his ballgames this season.
I've been thinking about this statement, and as much as I (as his mother!) should probably just agree with it, the truth is, I don't think it's an accurate statement. Some people truly are just natural baseball players. They play effortlessly--as if they had a magnet in their glove and the ball were made of steel. Without even trying, they stick their glove off to the side when a hard-hit grounder bounces across the field and they just scoop the ball up as naturally as I breath.

But that's not my son.

He played several positions this year--pitcher, left field, catcher and shortstop. And he played each of these positions well. But here's my perception: his coaches like him because he works hard and he respectfully listens to them.
When he pitches, you don't have to worry about a 'walkfest' because he concentrates on putting the ball in the strike zone. It doesn't matter if he's tired or hot, he digs down deep to throw the ball where it needs to be. When the coach tells him where to throw the ball, he places it exactly where he's told. He doesn't question the coach's judgment, he doesn't get all cocky and think he knows best, he respects the coach and follows his direction. When the count is 0-2, for example, and the coach says throw it at eye level because the batter will be protecting the plate, he'll swing, and he's likely to miss. . .well, that's what Destry does. He doesn't complain about wearing the catcher's gear when it's hot and he's already caught several innings. He strives to catch every ball, and loves to get runners out as they attempt to steal a base.

Mike, his coach this year, thanked him for playing as we were leaving our last game Friday evening. "I appreciate the way you have hustled all season," he said. "It didn't matter if we were winning or losing, or if it was the first inning or the last, you always hustle and I like to see that."Destry took a hard hit from a wild pitch while batting last year, and his batting really suffered as a result. He worked hard and overcame the fear of the ball this year and had some good hits, including doubles and triples.

Courage. Respect. Perseverance. Hard work. Enthusiasm. Diligence.

I've had seasons with Destry when I despaired of him developing the character traits I so desperately wanted him to have. He's a lot like me, so of course I see the character flaws in him that I don't like about myself and we tend to butt heads. But through this ball season, I have seen some good character traits that encourage me and give me hope for the young man God is shaping him to be. I'm glad he decided to play.

Little Princess?

I love to see Easton and Kiana play together. Easton can be such a little gentleman with his little sister--helping her, offering her drinks and snacks. . .and yes, pulling her around in the little red wagon. He figured out how to hitch the wagon up to his little tractor and told her to 'sit in it and I'll pull you!' She has the Homecoming-Parade-wave down at the ripe ole age of two!
I've mentioned before, however, that my lil princess is not a CLEAN princess! She gets dirty eating, playing, and just breathing I am afraid. When we arrived at the ballgame she was all cute in her little dress. An hour later, however. . .but she still has the "I'm cute" shrug going on.

Then she got busted for sitting on the table. I guess princesses think they can get the preschool activities off the shelf without asking and climb up on the table to 'do school'.
Another day, she wanted a rice krispie bar. She climbed up all by herself. She thought she could cut a bar all by herself (notice she is holding the table knife upside down!). I think two-year-olds are so much fun!!

Black in White

I've not experienced judgment or criticism for adopting transracially yet. I wondered, back when we were on our first adoption journey, how our small, rural (white) community would react if we adopted a child of African American, Hispanic, or Asian heritage. The few locals we talked to about it had favorable responses, and since we've adopted Kiana, I've observed nothing but acceptance of her as a member of our family and community. Indeed, our little girl has the most crowded little finger I've ever seen as the entire community seems to be wrapped around that little finger! Our librarian reads her books at her every request, moms at Destry's ballgames bribe her with candy to come and talk to them, and all my friends adore her.

In fact, as I reflect back over the last nearly three years, I can remember only one incident that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It was very recently.

We were at one of Destry's ballgames, and a man standing behind me talked incessantly. I had never met him before, but to be perfectly honest, after listening to him go on for about an hour, I found him rather annoying. He barely stopped to breath in his jabbering, his conversation was mostly negative, and was liberally sprinkled with language I don't appreciate hearing at all, much less at a children's ballgame.

His young married daughter and her husband were showing their cute little black puppy to Easton and Kiana who were, of course, delighted. After some time, the daughter offered the puppy to her dad saying "Here, do you want to hold your 'grandson'?" The man replied "What would I want with a N. . .", then reached out and took the dog.

Shortly after this, I read Kevin Hofmann's book, Growing Up Black in White. You may remember my post awhile back when I discovered his blog.

Kevin was adopted as a young boy in Detroit where racial conflict was a daily experience. Some hater, in fact, burned a cross in his family's yard when he was still an infant, and their church refused to accept that the family had adopted a Black boy. As a result, his family took such drastic measures as to move to a predominantly Black neighborhood where they would become the 'minority' and their son could develop security and identity in his ethnic heritage. This autobiographical book is quite interesting for those touched by transracial adoption, and it has opened my eyes in many ways.

I have to admit I was distracted by the typing/spelling and grammatical errors. If he publishes a second edition, I am tempted to email him and ask if I can edit/proof it first, because it was pretty bad. (chuckle) He also switched between past and present tense in a way that kept the book from flowing smoothly.

Having said that, it is still a book worth reading and I appreciate his candidness. He doesn't paint a rosy, happy, happy, joy, joy picture of adoption in general or transracial adoption--but then, that's just life, isn't it? Our choices have consequences, and sometimes those consequences involve sacrifice. This book raised my awareness level, and revealed some areas I need to be especially diligent about. I especially was reminded that we need to instill in Kiana a strong sense of her personal identity in God, her identity in her family, and her identity in who God made her to be to equip her for the challenges of life.

I can't help but wonder, as I ponder this book, what might Kiana say 30 years down the road? What sort of autobiographical book would she write to families who are navigating a similar road? Will she see us stand up to ignorance and racism on her behalf? I can't help but feel we might have failed her at that ballgame. I was sitting behind Alan in the bleachers, and I saw his shoulders stiffen in my peripheral vision as I whipped my head around to give the man an arched-eyebrow "EXCUSE ME?!" look. But that's all. Some situations might be more appropriate than others to say something--I don't know. But I feel more prepared for 'next time'--and sadly, even as I see and hope that our society is doing better in this regard, I expect there may very well be a 'next time'.

What do you think we should have done/said? Anything?

Partial Cornrows

I just had to post a couple pictures of this hairstyle because I think it is so cute. It looks much better in person than it does in the photos, because I am not a very good photographer! But this will give you the idea, and allow me to keep a record.

I am thinking about adding a page of different hairstyles. It's been very helpful to me, as an adoptive mother, to look at things other people have done, so perhaps my hair journey could help someone else. I also think it would be nice to have several different styles we know how to do in one place so when it's "Hair Day" and I feel out of ideas, I could look back and see what I can do! This style has several benefits. For one, I get to see her beautiful curls instead of having all her hair in braids, yet her hair is out of her face and looks cute and styled. This is also a great style for someone like me who is still learning how to do cornrows--I didn't have to do her whole head, but am still getting some practice!

To complete this style, I just parted a line from ear to ear, then divided the front section into nine rows and cornrowed each section back to the line, secured it with a small band, and clipped it with a pretty little clip. My cornrows aren't very straight, and her hair is very thin (esp along the hairline) so it's difficult with so little hair to work with. They've been in for a little over a week and are getting pretty fuzzy, so I think we'll take them out tomorrow and change styles. If anyone has any tips to keep cornrows from getting fuzzy, please share!!

A Follow-Up

Well, I finished A Thousand Splendid Suns yesterday(Khaled's Hosseini's follow-up to The Kite Runner) and it was a good book. Not nearly so powerful, not nearly so well-written, but a good book. It's definitely worth reading, especially for a woman to imagine living as an object and servant under a burqa.

I can't imagine being stripped of my individuality, independence, and DIGNITY as the women in this book were. I can't imagine being 'one of' the wives. I can't imagine telling my daughter "There is only one skill a woman like you and me needs in life. . .only one skill. And it's this: endure. . .It's our lot in life. We endure. It's all we have" (18).

Another awareness-raising concept from this book is that of the effects of war. It opened my eyes (a little--I truly can't imagine it!) to what it would be like to be living in relative comfort and have those everyday conveniences ravaged by war. The author vividly describes losing loved ones to rockets randomly fired upon a city, the viciousness that possesses men under such circumstances, and the uncertainty of living in the chaos for years.

This book was worth reading, but I never need to read it again. The Kite Runner, on the other hand, is one I will definitely re-read.