The Truth in What You Hear*

The following was originally posted on January 19, 2012. It is being re-posted as part of our CHICKS ROCK! Summer Retrospective.


CHICKS ROCK! welcomes Amanda as a guest blogger this week:

Amanda Grant lives in Hoboken, NJ and enjoys spending time with her two year-old son Isaac and dancing. She left her successful 24-year career and founded USAdopt in New York to help potential parents navigate and accelerate the U.S. adoption process.

Have you ever considered adopting a child from the U.S. but thought: “if I adopt in the U.S., the birthmother can take back her baby” or “it’s too expensive” or “I won’t adopt from foster care because those kids are beyond healing”? If you’ve had these thoughts or similar ones, I encourage you to hear me out and reconsider the possibilities.

Four years ago, I was in the same place. I knew I wanted to become a parent by adoption, even though I wasn’t married, but didn’t know where to begin. All I knew was what I “heard” which wasn’t encouraging. So I researched and today I can tell you that most of what we “hear” about domestic adoption is incorrect or incomplete. I’m the proud mother of a beautiful, healthy boy born in New Jersey who I adopted at birth.

I had a positive experience adopting my son but not everybody does because the misinformation makes it challenging for even the smartest to filter out the facts. I became so passionate about helping people navigate the complex process that I left my 24-year career in asset management to start USAdopt.

USAdopt is a domestic adoption consultancy (not an agency or facilitator) that guides people through the process and prepares them for every step. When people know the facts, it often changes their perspective on and opens doors they didn’t know existed. For example, did you know:

Domestic adoptions cannot be revoked once finalized in court; they’re permanent.

Birthmothers cannot come back and take your adopted child. Even in an open adoption, the amount of contact information you provide is in your control.

There’s an adoption for every budget. There are tax credits, subsidies, grants, loans and fundraising alternatives to finance an adoption.

It’s usually less expensive to adopt from the U.S. than another country, and there’s a greater likelihood of receiving accurate medical history.

There were over 22,000 newborns available for adoption in the U.S. in 2010.

Many foster children, given a safe and loving home, will grow to be responsible, productive, self-sufficient adults.

Being single or part of the LGBT community does not reduce your ability to adopt a domestic child.

These are just a few of the facts that aren’t commonly known, and there are many more. We offer a free consultation so to find out how USAdopt can help you achieve your dreams of building a family, please contact me at agrant@usadopt.com.

Thoughts on Parenthood

My cousin and his wife just welcomed their first child into the world, and my family and I are sending good wishes their way during this happy time. They are a sweet and loving couple, and their new son is a well-deserved blessing in their lives. No matter how bad things can get in the world, a baby’s birth always evokes warm and fuzzy feelings and hopes for the future in me, even if these moments are fleeting. After all, babies do not stay babies for long, and the love between parents and children is tested for a lifetime.

As precious as each baby’s birth is, I know those who should never have children. It sounds severe, but I think everyone knows someone who is completely incapable of being a good parent for a variety of reasons. I know quite a few people who had children because they wanted someone to always love them, or because it was a last ditch effort to hold on to their marriage or relationship, or because it was what they were told was the normal next step in their lives, regardless of their inclinations. I have observed that none of these reasons are the right ones, and these parents tend to pay for their faulty logic later on. Not all of them are villains; they just have to grow up with their children to learn what parenthood is really all about.

To be a positive parent with the right amount of strictness, humor, and ease is an extremely difficult balance to achieve, especially when there can be more bad days then good. Single parents who do it on their own and succeed amaze me; of course I know that having a support system within the family and/or community is the key to raising a functional and productive child no matter what. I also believe that successful parents should be idolized far more than movie stars or famous athletes; they are the everyday heroes who make all the difference in our world.

What are your thoughts on parenthood today?

The Truth in What You Hear

CHICKS ROCK! welcomes Amanda as a guest blogger this week:

Amanda Grant lives in Hoboken, NJ and enjoys spending time with her two year-old son Isaac and dancing. She left her successful 24-year career and founded USAdopt in New York to help potential parents navigate and accelerate the U.S. adoption process.


Have you ever considered adopting a child from the U.S. but thought: “if I adopt in the U.S., the birthmother can take back her baby” or “it’s too expensive” or “I won’t adopt from foster care because those kids are beyond healing”? If you’ve had these thoughts or similar ones, I encourage you to hear me out and reconsider the possibilities.

Four years ago, I was in the same place. I knew I wanted to become a parent by adoption, even though I wasn’t married, but didn’t know where to begin. All I knew was what I “heard” which wasn’t encouraging. So I researched and today I can tell you that most of what we “hear” about domestic adoption is incorrect or incomplete. I’m the proud mother of a beautiful, healthy boy born in New Jersey who I adopted at birth.

I had a positive experience adopting my son but not everybody does because the misinformation makes it challenging for even the smartest to filter out the facts. I became so passionate about helping people navigate the complex process that I left my 24-year career in asset management to start USAdopt.

USAdopt is a domestic adoption consultancy (not an agency or facilitator) that guides people through the process and prepares them for every step. When people know the facts, it often changes their perspective on and opens doors they didn’t know existed. For example, did you know:

• Domestic adoptions cannot be revoked once finalized in court; they’re permanent.
• Birthmothers cannot come back and take your adopted child. Even in an open adoption, the amount of contact information you provide is in your control.
• There’s an adoption for every budget. There are tax credits, subsidies, grants, loans and fundraising alternatives to finance an adoption.
• It’s usually less expensive to adopt from the U.S. than another country, and there’s a greater likelihood of receiving accurate medical history.
• There were over 22,000 newborns available for adoption in the U.S. in 2010.
• Many foster children, given a safe and loving home, will grow to be responsible, productive, self-sufficient adults.
• Being single or part of the LGBT community does not reduce your ability to adopt a domestic child.

These are just a few of the facts that aren’t commonly known, and there are many more. We offer a free consultation so to find out how USAdopt can help you achieve your dreams of building a family, please contact me at agrant@usadopt.com.

Peeking into the Baby Life

A friend of mine had a baby about a year ago. She’s stayed home with him, and I go out to their place to visit them about every month or so. He’s a super cute little guy, and I’m hard pressed to think of any other baby who I’ve gotten to watch grow up this closely.

It’s not like I’m part of his life everyday, but he seems to recognize me, and he knows I like books, because when I visit he sometimes brings me books from his shelf and we read them. Ah, how my little heart melts….

I listen to my friend talk about the struggles that they go through, and the progress that he makes. I get excited about his new teeth, and his words. I feel like a part of his extended family, somehow.

It’s been really meaningful to me to be a support system for my friend as she wades the uncharted waters of parenthood. We’re also lucky in that it’s brought us closer instead of tearing us apart, or making it too hard to relate to one another. Sure, I can’t relate to 3 a.m. feedings, and she rolls her eyes if I complain about not getting enough sleep, but on a deeper level, we’re closer friends than we were a year ago.

It’s so easy to fall out of touch when people have kids, especially here in the city, where single life, couple life, and family life are totally separate spheres that barely intersect. It’s happened to me several times, growing apart from people after they have kids. I can see that parenthood can be quite isolating.

To be honest, I don’t always make the effort. I don’t truly know why I decided to work harder this time, but I’m definitely glad I didn’t let this friendship slip away. I hope I can do as well the next time a friend makes the leap to a new sphere of life!

Colorblind Love

I am not a big fan of Hollywood films today; I’m usually the last one to know what the top box-office hits are in the movie theaters at any given time. Still, when I saw the trailer for The Blind Side, which opens this Friday, I was truly moved. The film is based on the life of Michael Oher, a young African American man who rose from homelessness and abuse with the support of a well-to-do family, and how their love, encouragement, and his determination led him to the NFL. It is one of the movies I will see in a theater, and I’m hoping it will be worth the money.

When I read some online reactions to the trailer and Oher’s story, I was floored. The fact is that he was taken in and adopted by a white family, and this really angers many people. I just don’t get the racial negativity; with all my heart, I believe that love can be colorblind, especially when it comes to parents and children. I hope to adopt in the future, and no one is going to stop me from adopting a child because of race.

Even though attitudes about race and adoption have changed, there are those who still believe that adopted children are loved less than biological ones. Many people are also dubious when discussing how celebrities like Angelina Jolie and Madonna have popularized international adoptions, which I can understand to a certain extent. There are many American children in the foster care system who need homes, but they have familial and emotional baggage (depending on their ages and circumstances) that many can't (or won't) handle. Those who do adopt want an infant or small child; older children are usually overlooked. With these prevailing attitudes, it’s hard for many to comprehend how Oher’s adoptive family could have considered including an older African American teenager in their lives, especially one with a troubled family history. I am not one of those people.

What are your thoughts on interracial adoption?

Not About Me

I spent an afternoon with a six-year-old girl and her grandma, and it was totally fun. We went to a science museum that the little girl loves. I arrived bearing chapter books appropriate for her age – partly at her grandma’s request and partly to endear myself to this girl by masquerading as a cool, fun, spontaneous person. (It’s hit or miss, in reality.)

In public, I inadvertently imagine what other people might think when they look at me, and whoever I’m with. Folks who saw the three of us together probably assumed I was the mother figure in this picture. Seeing myself in this light illuminated a few things for me. One is: I do want kids. Another is: I’m not quite ready. But I’m close.

There was a time when I would have begrudged that beautiful little girl for dragging us around the museum without stopping at half the exhibits that I would have wanted to stop at. That day, I didn’t care. There was a time when I would have been annoyed to have to read stories out loud during lunch to keep her entertained, while my French fries grew cold. There was a time when I would’ve regretted not being able to fully peruse the gift shop for kitchy gadgets, because she was ready to go. None of it bothered me. Curious.

For a while now, my fear about having children has been selfishness – my own. I love my independence, and the ability to come and go as I please and the freedom make sure I’m contented before worrying about anyone else. In some ways, that selfishness is waning. It was actually great to spend a day that was not about ME.

Inupiaq Voices

I watched a documentary recently that rather blew my mind: Nipaa Ilitqusipta - The Voices of Our Spirit, produced and directed by Rachel Naninaaq Edwardson. The film screened in NYC and features the Inupiaq community in Barrow, Alaska. It studies the history that led to the decline of their language. Personal interviews illuminate the struggle to reclaim a language whose loss began a few decades ago when Native American children were pulled from their homes and forced to attend assimilationist boarding schools. In that environment, they were denied their traditions and made to feel shame about their culture. Consequently, those indoctrinated couldn’t bring themselves to teach their language to their own children.

It’s a uniquely Inupiaq narrative, yet, by chasing the story of one specific culture in one small corner of the world, the film touches on universal themes of home, family, self, and the search for identity. I sat, slightly weeping throughout the film because it hit pretty close to home.

I admire the film’s ability to touch emotions in someone who has no knowledge or experience of the Inupiaq culture. I was utterly caught up in the narratives, and I felt that the film was somehow telling my story, or at least part of it. The part that wishes I spoke my father's language, or my maternal grandmother's. The part that wants to travel to far reaches of the world and feel that I belong.

I'm finding I'm not alone in this feeling. It doesn't seem to matter what culture we have in our backgrounds - young Americans of many flavors are searching. Wandering. Hungry. Something has happened. Something has kept us from learning these truths. Something has happened, and we are being robbed. I wonder if we spend our entire lives hunting for puzzle pieces – a collection of words, thoughts, feelings, experiences that’ll tell us who we are and what it all means. I watch a film like this and I realize that, no matter how far I’ve come, I’m still searching. There’s a history that I carry, which I feel, but that’s ultimately unknown to me.

Where else should I be looking?

Growing Pains (Hair, Part I)*

The following was originally posted on Oct. 13, 2008. It is being re-posted as part of our CHICKS ROCK! Holiday series.


My hair has long been the bane of my existence. There’s a love-hate thing going on between us that originated around the time when my mother decided I was old enough to manage it myself.

At home, I liked my hair. I thought it was pretty. In a few moments of wild self-confidence, I even thought I was pretty because of it. At school, though, I was mercilessly teased over my hairstyles. This was suburban Indiana – no one had a ‘fro. Except me. I didn’t know how to deal with my hair, so I wore it in awkward braids or in a big puffy ponytail. I let it grow because I believed that the longer it got, the heavier it would be and the flatter it would lie…but denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.

As a teen, I spent laborious hours “managing” my hair. I slathered on gel. I sprayed and spritzed, tousled and tucked. I didn’t want my look to be so different. But the meager understanding of hair care and products I’d gained up until that point was based on what white women do. My mom is white, with hair that does what it’s told. At the time, the majority of my friends were white. All the black girls I knew had their hair chemically straightened—that was what you were supposed to do—so they weren’t much help to me, either. My mom consistently refused to let me try straightening. (If I’d known the word “sadist” back then, I’d have screamed it at her.)

The funny thing is, I’ve never actually wished for other hair. I don’t want it to be straight, or blond or conducive to highlights, layers or bangs. I like my hair as it is, I just often wish that I could train it to always look its best. But it doesn’t want to be tamed, simplified or made ordinary. It wants to stand out. I’ve always known that if I can draw that quality out of my hair and into myself, I will be a better woman for it.

What are your hair stories?

Growing Pains (Hair, Part I)

My hair has long been the bane of my existence. There’s a love-hate thing going on between us that originated around the time when my mother decided I was old enough to manage it myself.

At home, I liked my hair. I thought it was pretty. In a few moments of wild self-confidence, I even thought I was pretty because of it. At school, though, I was mercilessly teased over my hairstyles. This was suburban Indiana – no one had a ‘fro. Except me. I didn’t know how to deal with my hair, so I wore it in awkward braids or in a big puffy ponytail. I let it grow because I believed that the longer it got, the heavier it would be and the flatter it would lie…but denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.

As a teen, I spent laborious hours “managing” my hair. I slathered on gel. I sprayed and spritzed, tousled and tucked. I didn’t want my look to be so different. But the meager understanding of hair care and products I’d gained up until that point was based on what white women do. My mom is white, with hair that does what it’s told. At the time, the majority of my friends were white. All the black girls I knew had their hair chemically straightened—that was what you were supposed to do—so they weren’t much help to me, either. My mom consistently refused to let me try straightening. (If I’d known the word “sadist” back then, I’d have screamed it at her.)

The funny thing is, I’ve never actually wished for other hair. I don’t want it to be straight, or blond or conducive to highlights, layers or bangs. I like my hair as it is, I just often wish that I could train it to always look its best. But it doesn’t want to be tamed, simplified or made ordinary. It wants to stand out. I’ve always known that if I can draw that quality out of my hair and into myself, I will be a better woman for it.

What are your hair stories?

The Times That Haven't Changed

I recently had a long conversation with a friend about relationships, specifically interracial ones. This friend is a young white man who’s in a long-term relationship with a woman of color. They’re bizarrely compatible, totally in love, and now planning to get married. Suddenly, a flock of doubters have emerged out of the woodwork – his family and friends, advising him against taking this particular plunge.

It continues to surprise me that in this time and place it is still so hard for some people to accept interracial marriages. My parents have spoken about various encounters they had in the 1970s, when their relationship began. Back then, it was still unusual to see a black man and a white woman walking hand in hand. Somehow, I had come to believe that times had changed.

My friend said his family claimed to be worried about the struggles he, his wife and their (hypothetical) biracial children might face in the future. They thought he was setting himself up for an unnecessarily difficult life. Devastated by their lack of support, my friend called me, looking for me to tell him that it would all be okay. He asked if I thought his engagement was a bad idea, and if I felt my life had been made more difficult because I am biracial.

It hurts me a little that these questions have to be asked, though I understand why they are. I answered in the only way I could. Being biracial has certainly affected me and shaped my life into what it is today. It’s impossible to list the ways it has made me different, because I’ve never experienced the world from within any other skin. But I don’t believe that any of those differences are bad, or something to be avoided.

Every relationship has challenges. This we know for sure. So why are the challenges faced by interracial couples perceived to be worse than those of any other couple? Why are they perceived to be avoidable? What is the supposed solution: just marry someone else? It is hard enough to find one person to love and be loved by.

I hope that as a society, someday we will be able to value each other’s happiness over our own fears, and to affirm love, in whatever form it may come, over prejudice.

What would you have said, if a friend called you with these questions?

Just What I Needed

CHICKS ROCK! welcomes our first guest blogger, Kelly:

Kelly lives in Brooklyn with her boyfriend, baby Jack and their dog, Pearl. Between feeding Jack and walking the dog, she produces websites and teaches clients how to budget their day-to-day cash flow.


My first summer in Manhattan, I stumbled upon TWM’s event page, which had a listing for a Visioning Workshop. The event description promised to help me manifest my heart’s desire. It promised to help me figure out where I was in my life and where I wanted to go next.

I had been living in the city for less than a year and was feeling rather out of my element. Back home, I had a small handful of familiar friends who helped me sort out my dreams and goals, but I was too busy working to create a similar circle in New York. I felt my life wasn’t really going the way I wanted it to; it wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great, either. This Visioning Workshop sounded like just what I needed!

As it turns out, I *loved* the workshop and I became a regular at the semi-annual workshops led by TWM’s founder, Kristina.

That winter, my boyfriend and I seriously began to consider having a child. Looking back, it’s crystal clear, but at the time I was convinced I wasn’t ready. After all, I had a (not terribly exciting) career to consider!

Come spring, I hustled back to the Visioning Workshop. I made a conscious effort to clear my mind. We began the process … and at the end of the day, I had a collage filled with fertility imagery – strong women with sturdy birthing hips, lots of kids, even a heron (which I mistook for a stork). I also had a kitchen set with three chairs pulled up to the table – presumably for my boyfriend, a child, and me. Apparently, I wanted to have a baby!

Now, 18 months later, I am the proud momma of Jack. He’s nearly four months old and I think he’s the cutest thing ever (not so much when he’s crying at 3am!).

I’m so glad I found the Visioning Workshop, The Women’s Mosaic, and Kristina. They have made my transition to New York and into motherhood easier and a lot more fun. I can’t wait to see what comes to light at the next workshop!