In the life of a missionary or missionary kid, you learn one thing. It actually is a small world after all. My parents have been missionaries for over 30 years. They met during college and decided that what they wanted to do with their life together was be an example for others, showing other people how God displays his grace and compassion. This was something they wanted to do with their lives and had the support of both sets of my Grandparents, who actually knew each other when they were in college. Once again proving that it really is a small world. I just found out recently, that my Grandmother and Grandfather H (we will call them H, to protect their identity ) had given my Mother their blessing to pursue being a missionary. Grandma H knew the sacrifices that not only my parents were making but that she would be making as well. But like a mother usually does, they put their child's interests before their own and was completely supportive. It takes a great person to do this. So that being said, my parents embarked on their journey to be missionaries in India and later in Japan. The reason I tell you all of this is because my parents recently came back from a missionaries convention to Cambodia. They were able to meet and re-meet new and old friends. The connections at this convention were amazing for my parents. I could tell from the excitement in my Mother's voice as she told all of whom she had met. They were introduced to a man from India who happened to be a baby in one of my mother's Bible classes when they lived in India. They met up with a daughter of friend who they went to college with as well as meeting a new person who knew my Mother's best friend who was also a missionary at a point in her life. But among all the people they met my Mother told me of a family who adopted a little girl from China. She grew up in the USA and her parents decided to move to China to be missionaries. Her daughter has started to learn the language and has an understanding of what people are saying now. Now my heart goes out to this little girl. She is having a difficult time adjusting to be a third culture kid. She lives in a country that is her native home but isn't actually part of the culture. She is American. To her, her home is America and her ways are American. But being Chinese on the outside by looks only she is ridiculed for not know her heritage and customs. To the point that people are actually commenting loud enough that she can hear the mean and rude things they say about her. And she understands them. I can relate to this. When my parents were in the processing of adopting me, they had many people tell them that they were doing the wrong thing. That they shouldn't be adopting a Indian baby much less a girl and they should want a nice white baby instead. I was abandoned by my birth mom and was considered an orphan. Now in India as most of you know, girls are not wanted. They want boys to carry on their name and inherit their belongings. So many people questioned why my parents would even want a baby from India when they could adopt a white one much less an India girl who no one knew where I had come from as well as being small and sick. I was 2 and 1/2 months premature and weighed either 2 or 3lbs. Thankfully my parents didn't see what other's saw. They only saw with their hearts and not with their ears. But the discrimination from my own race didn't stop there. I have dealt with it all my life. Getting called mean things from others in elementary school or having a boy say he wouldn't sit next to me because I was dark. Or even having someone say ' I am glad I was born white and not dark '. Those are some of the things that have been said to me. Yes, they are hurtful but to me the most hurtful things are when your own race rejects you. I never told my parents when those things were being said. Why? Because how could they understand it? I knew my parents would have kind words to say and let me know that people are just ridiculous. But the main reason I never said anything, was because I was ashamed that those comments were said to me and I had somehow brought them on myself. Now as an adult I have to deal with the ugly looks that other Indian people give me. As I said before I married a wonderful man but he isn't Indian. Do I care. NOT AT ALL. The traditions of India do not apply to me. I am not Indian. Only my shell is. But the looks of hatred and the mean whispers affect my children. I don't mind if you give me a look of disgust but don't ever do that to my kids. They don't see me as Indian. They see me as their Mom and my husband as their Dad. They are color blind. I have never heard my kids say ' that person looks like you' because to them I don't look like anyone but their Mom. We at one point had only one Indian restaurant to eat at. But every time we went there the waiter (also owner) was rude. Basically ignoring us and letting other Indians who were there talk about us and joined in. It got to the point that we decided that they didn't deserve our business. Why would I pay for you to be rude to my family? Thankfully a new Indian restaurant has opened up and the owners are more than considerate. No ugly looks, no discrimination. Very polite and we don't even have to go all the way into town and fight traffic to eat there. It will be a lifelong battle. To say I don't care is true. I don't care. Because I know who I am and where I belong. Why would I want to be part of culture that has rejected me from birth? I will respect that to you your ways are right. But I will not change who I am to conform to what you think I should be.
