Home

Breaking from Tradition

Kerry's picture
Fri, 2007-05-11 17:02 - Kerry

I'm loving Wikipedia.  I found the following definition that amused me, as one who has no Family Tradition of personal value.  As one who is the start of my own Family Tree, I feel lost not having known the correct ethnic heritage so many own with rightful pride (or shame).  To be given something is a Gift.  To be denied an identity is a Loss without a name or tradition.

The word tradition comes from the Latin word traditio which means "to hand down" or "to hand over." It is used in a number of ways in the English language:

  1. A meme; beliefs or customs taught by one generation to the next, often orally. For example, we can speak of the tradition of sending birth announcements.
  2. A set of customs or practices. For example, we can speak of Christmas traditions.
  3. A broad religious movement made up of religious denominations or church bodies that have a common history, customs, culture, and, to some extent, body of teachings. For example, one can speak of Islam's Sufi tradition or Christianity's Lutheran tradition.
 

Comments

Fri, 2007-05-11 17:08 — Kerry

Family Traditions

There was a time when my life was filled with Family Traditions.   Macaroni Sunday; every Sunday, after church and CCD, we'd go eat at Grandma's.  The Fall Pumpkin Ride; we'd get apple cider and get ready for the Thanksgiving season.  Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, our dinner and gift-exchange would be scheduled around that one obligation.  St. Patrick's Day; I'd wear one of the pins my mother gave me to wear, because I was Irish.
 
That's what I was told.  I was told by my mother, "Your real mother was Irish, just like me."
 
I used to love wearing this fuzzy green shamrock pin she let me wear on St. Patrick's Day.  I remember feeling proud wearing it, knowing I was indeed Irish in a family of Italians.  I was different, and that made me feel special... (for that day, at least).  Most of the time I felt like an Outsider... an Extra... an unwanted left-over too big to be discarded completely.  All the other days of the year, I was the adopted child in a large Italian family.
 
Birthdays I would traditionally wake-up wondering, "What time was I REALLY born?"  My mother had these decorative plates hanging on the wall outside her bedroom, the type that read each child's zodiac sign and birth information.  My brother knew what time he was born, because he was Kept by his mother.  I was Taken, and such information like Time of Arrival was not deemed important, I guess.  So I decided for myself 7:30 am would be a good time to be born.
 
I know the exact minute each baby of mine was born.
 
My oldest baby turned 13 recently.  6:36pm on a Wednesday, she came into the world, and I remember being scared; she was dark purple in color and made no sound those first few minutes of life.  When I was finally allowed to hold her, I remember feeling scared because she moved and breathed, and she kept looking at me, as if I was expected to DO something.
 
Thirteen years ago...  It seems longer than that.  Lifetimes ago. I remember 13.
 
I remember a lot of things, although I wish to God I didn't.
 
I struggle with motherhood... I had such poor exampling.  I worry about my parenting-style, especially with the ease of disinterest I seem to have as the heathens get older.  When they were all babies, I knew what I was doing, and I felt like I was doing really well with this Parent-Thing.  I loved being a Mommy.
 
I don't know how to be A Mom to older kids.  Older kids are supposed to be on their own, and come in when the street-lights come on.  Older kids are supposed to know how to make dinner, clean the house and keep quiet.  Older kids are supposed to make moms look like they did a great job parenting little-ones.
 
Family Tradition, as I saw it, dictates the daughter takes-on The Mother role very early in life, leaving little room for childhood.  For the longest time, Family Tradition was the rule to my day.
 
When I learned my real parent's heritage, everything changed.  Tradition of "Family First, and you don't lie to family" went out the window.  Nothing was how it was told to me, forcing my sense of family history forever changed and stained.  I was given a new family history that never got shared or told to the one person it would have mattered most:  Me.  The moment I learned I was French and Ukranian, I realized I was alone with all that was never-to-be.  I had no one to share my loss of knowing who I was and from where I never belonged.  Even my Home-Land wasn't a place to call home, as much as it was a birthing site.  Gone were the dreams of a Homecoming for me.  
 
I remember driving myself back to the house, that day, wishing I had learned all of this Stuff when I was much younger.  I would have tried to find her and him, so they could have been a part of my life, and my children's life.  Even if not in person, at least in culture and traditions.  Knowing such things would have changed and defined many things about me, I am certain.  
 
Like many, I wasn't allowed to discuss my adoption or my need to meet my family with my parents.  I was brushed-off or told I was "one of them", and that was supposed to be good enough.  No. No it isn't Good Enough to always feel like the forgotten child, lost to a Mother-Role with a mother that was not my own.  I hated being the answer to someone else's problem.  When I got married, I vowed to myself:  my children will live and learn as children do, and experience childhood as long as they possibly can. 
 
Problem is... I don't know what the traditional role of Child is in a family.  I have to learn that from my own. That's the problem with Motherhood for the abandoned adoptee... it's a job that no one discusses or shares, because we're all alone in our untrusting motherless worlds of complete unfamiliar unknowns.  Most people have moms to turn to.  We did, but they were lost to women who didn't want to finish their job as promised on the signed deed.
Sat, 2007-05-19 19:50 — Niels

keep it in the family

My family has one major tradition and that is separation. You know I have been adopted within the family, so to say, but that means in reality adopted within only one half of your family. And that family has a tradition of separation. My grand parents had four children, one of them biologically my father and the other my adoptive mother. These four children have been together in the past fifty years for only three occassions, two of which funerals (the respective grandparents). There is always some feud going on. There runs a thread of favoratism and denial through that branch of my family. So that's my family tradition, I'd rather stay away from it.

Sun, 2007-05-20 01:39 — neophyte

A family of strangers

I was brought into a completely new and different family, where everyone treated the other person worse than they would a stranger.  The only thing they could all agree upon was my not fitting-in.

I was always amazed that such people were allowed to have pets, let alone kids.  HOW they got away with buying a baby is beyond me!

I used to wonder, which is worse:  to be brought into a freak's family... or to not escape one?

Mon, 2007-05-21 22:34 — Simon

how worldly

My so-called family has no tradition, they are newly rich, so everything has to be new and different.

It's all about money and outer appearance, but they have no clue of the world. Oh unlike me, they have travelled, seen exotic places, from Bangkok to Nairobi. It's still amazing they didn't buy another child over there, but maybe they didn't dare after having been so disappointed with me.

 

Thu, 2007-05-24 03:01 — neophyte

Simon Says...

It's all about money and outer appearance

My parents were the same way.  They still are.  

There was a time I could have measured-up, but it was costing me everything I valued and liked about myself.  I hated how they treated me, allowing so little, but expecting so much more from me than anyone else in the clan. 

I was replaced by in-laws who offered nice cars, fancy vacations, and invitations from influential families.

That's my Family Tradition:  replace people with things, titles and photo albums that show what fakes and frauds they really are.