My First Blog Post
I’m in the shuttle, sitting in the back seat with my headphones on listening to Krishna Das. It’s 6:49 a.m. and the sun is rising above the horizon. As the van turns to leave the bus barn near the mall, I can see the sky lightening. Pink, yellow, and purple, with low streams of clouds. The train passes by as we stop and turn left, soaring down the access road to the freeway. As I write, the sky transforms into dusty, baby blue and lavender. Green ponderosa pines pass my window as we make our way to the elementary school I work at.
My name is Desiree and I’m a 32-year-old adoptee living in Northern Arizona. I was born in the Philippines in 1985 and relinquished to an orphanage at birth, where I was taken care of by Catholic nuns. My birth name was Desiree Maru but it changed when I was adopted at the age of two.
I’m starting this regular column, Desiree’s Column, Filipino Intercountry Adoptee because I want to start voicing myself as a past orphan, adult adoptee, and a woman who carries past traumatic wounds no matter where I go. As I heal, I write in hopes to raise awareness on critical subjects and bring new dialogue to a space where many can’t tread unless they’ve been there.
I’m here to fill this space with needed perspective. With humanity. My humanity. So overall this blog will contain my whereabouts, thoughts, actions, insights, memories of my past and hopes of my unseen future.
I think it’ll be an adventure having this column.
I am writing this first entry on my way to a school out in Leupp, Arizona on the Navajo Reservation. I work at a school library as a library media assistant/librarian and I run the library by myself. This school is about 45 minutes from Flagstaff where I’ve been living for the past ten years, attending college at Northern Arizona University and now I’m an online student with San Jose State University studying Library and Information Science.
The atmosphere in the van today feels thick with tension.
I always have music playing in my ears on these shuttles to work and back in an attempt to make these daily trips a pleasant, contemplative voyage.
There is so much gorgeous scenery that passes by.
Land you can’t fully fathom unless you’re here and you have a reason to traverse this well-preserved part of the world.
Rolling hills in the distance. Once we hit Leupp Road, the ponderosas change into thickets of juniper pines that are as large as trees. They’re these bristly, round, green pines that smell so sweet. You can burn the dead branches for incense or prayers, and they make good kindling for wood stove fires.
Now the light is awake. It’s golden and raw, raking the Earth, sweeping over this high desert landscape with honesty. Finally, it is warmer in the vehicle. I can take my sweatshirt off since I have a sweater underneath. It’s been cold in the mornings in Flagstaff, especially at 5:30 a.m. when I wake up.
The land looks so beautiful when it’s aflame with sunrise.
As we drive, I can hear the teachers in the front get louder but I focus on the music blaring in my ears. The light glares in my eyes. I keep writing. I breathe and focus on my breathing, because what I’ve come to recognize is that I get anxious easily, especially around hostile or fast changing environments.
At this school, the students can suddenly be aggressive with each other without warning. I’ve been yelled at by two teachers while I’ve been just doing my job too since I’d been hired here in August. To keep my composure here and my job, I keep my distance. I enforce strict, professional boundaries because I work better in positive, enforcing environments.
I like uninterrupted, positive and focused work flow too.
Although here at this elementary school, it’s like I’m at times bulldozing unseen walls just to do the work needed at this school library.
I fight to keep focused on the library’s needs and the Navajo children, as I’m pulled with other requests and stresses. As this library is grossly under national standards, every day is a fight to keep what I care about afloat.
I pass three crows sitting on a wire fence.
Tiny, little houses sparsely speckle the open, wild but barren landscape that spreads out for miles out here.
Hogans. Grassland. Trailers. Open range.
In the distance there are mesas now and the horizon is shrouded in blue hues. The junipers are gone. Groups of cows pass by. Then more open land.
I can hear the teachers in the front of the van raise their voices again. They get louder. I look down at my necklace that I’m wearing.
It’s the Tree of Life hanging on my pendant from a red, leather band.
I wore it this morning to remind myself of my own values that I’ve cultivated since I was young, growing up in Wisconsin, mostly on my own since my other adopted older brother had severe post-traumatic issues and my parents were often working. Since childhood, I’ve cultivated my own value system that has been rooted in personal growth and spiritual philosophies.
Faith was my support system. Although this faith has changed over time.
It now appears like we’re looming closer to the school.
I secretly fear the secretary here but I know it’s mostly all in my head.
I realize, I am at times prone to a casual victim mentality—having grown up accustomed to being so extremely affected by my external environment and not having enough resources to support me as an adoptee.
Now an adult, I’m understanding the issues that had arisen from my extreme upbringing. And, I see that it is more important than ever to break away from certain bad patterns that have prevented me from moving on, and reinforce my obstacles into opportunities to learn and change for the better.
I go to the morning meeting circle and it looks like Peta is bothered by something. She is in 2nd grade and very quiet. She chooses to stand next to me for a bit.
I ask her a few questions while everyone is gathering:
What animal is that on your shirt?
What did you do this weekend?
I like your glitter nail polish.
And still, there is trouble in her eyes.
Peta has shiny almond brown eyes and dark silky hair. She is a soft talker like me and lately she’s shown other aspects that remind me of me. She likes being helpful in the library and often asks to assist me. I see that she does fit in, but at times, she doesn’t due to her offbeat behavior, like me.
Peta is standing next to me as the circle started to congregate.
A girl walks up to her, one of her peers, Taima, another 2nd grader in her class who is often really confident, happy and social.
Taima stands boldly in front of Peta. She stares directly in Peta’s eyes, and they gaze at each other silently, face to face, like quiet warriors.
Taima asks what is wrong.
Peta stares back at her unflinchingly and doesn’t respond.
Taima looks up at me, questioningly.
She’s thinking, I say to Taima.
Taima walks away, and later, Peta goes to her class. For a few minutes, I wonder about Peta and all of these children on the Navajo Reservation.
In the school library, I have melodic music playing on Pandora at my desk computer. It eases my deep, mysterious soul and the feelings of isolation out here since I’m not friends with anyone at work either.
At my desk, I have a sticky pad of call numbers and book titles about adoption.
I also just wrote:
National Adoption Awareness Month
on the dry erase board in green marker that is in front of room.
On this particular day, I had started collecting adoption books from this library and other district libraries, displaying them at the dry erase board.
This is a step for me to start including new and diverse perspectives to this school library. I had originally imagined adoption in the Navajo community too but mainly, this was a step for me to start bringing myself out a little more.
Adoption is not just people and family members, I had told the students when I introduced these books on check-out day the next day.
You can adopt creeks, nature, animals, dogs, even hamsters!
2 Antworten auf „Desiree’s Column, Filipino Intercountry Adoptee“
I do admire your spirit and resilience Stephanie. Desiree Maru! You are wonderful!
Hi Stephanie, thanks for your post! I lived in Chandler, Arizona for 14 years! My husband and I just moved to California last year. I wanted to ask if you might consider being a guest on a podcast I’m launching about the experiences of international and transracial adoptees. I’d be happy to tell you more about it. You can contact me at email@example.com. Thanks, and I enjoyed your article!