A few years ago, I visited what used
to be called an orphanage, before political correctness robbed the English language of much of its drama and spontaneity.
A kindly Chinese man and his equally compassionate
wife,
a local government social worker,
offered to help me with a desire to
adopt a Chinese child. The thoughtfulness which we ESL teachers
and corporate executives encounter
in long stays in China cannot be underestimated.
We whizzed in a cool and bright taxi
along
busy Shennan Boulevard, and
arrived at the large Shenzhen City Children's Home. I take it this was operated
by the City Authorities, and what
a fine job
they did of it.
Though the situation befacing an abandoned
child
seems poignant, the workers in this
home were cheerful, affectionate, and there were no lingering signs
of the Christian pity and guilt
we are familiar with in the novels
of
Charlotte Bronte or Charles Dickens.
A relative very close to me was adopted
as a child
and she was told constantly
Be grateful that we selected you.
It would take another article to express
my feelings
to what this did to her, and to her
relatives.
The interior of the building was clean,
airy, and fresh,
with rows of high-ceilinged
rooms, simple yet cheerful.
The children were playing grouped
according to ages.
I was surprised to see that there
are baby boys
for adoption as well.
I was allowed to hold one or two children,
yet the guardians made it tactfully
clear that
they did not want the children toyed
with by random visitors, and maintained a steadfast attitude
of responsible concern.
For every few dozen children, there
were at least
a few Chinese adults, playing with
them, or feeding them. There were toys too, a goodly assortment of
basic kids' accessories.
In one room, young children were napping
in
safe and spacious beds, watched over
by tender caretakers.
I knew that Corporate Wives, well-intenioned,
made weekly visits to this home.
Yet I recalled
the voice of my own relative,
Rich People came to take us out
in their cars. We hoped they would keep us and we would go to live with them in a Real Family.
Then they took us back at the
end of the day.
The Chinese government was more than
ready to help me. My letters to Canada, and research on the Internet,
revealed quickly that the Canadian
government expected me to maintain two homes - one in Canada,
where child adoption authorities
could visit me,
and judge me as to whether or
not I met
bureaucratic standards, and one in
China
that I could not leave,
as I needed to be a working person.
Those of who left it too late to have
children of our own,
or who could not have them to medical
problems,
can study at lesiure all the
biological specimens
who are free to procreate at will,
with no government social workers
roaming about their kitchens and bathrooms.
The hidden bias you may sense here
is not based on educational or economic
standards,
just other things - like drug
users, ad nauseam.
I held briefly a little baby girl
in my arms
and when her foot kicked defiantly
in no particular direction, I decided
she was the one
that I wanted.
The baby had been found in a city
park by
the kindly and alert Shenzhen Police
and they had named the girl Shenzhen
Grass Jewellery
and I mulled over the poetic nature
of the Chinese,
even in the midst of hard realism.
At least these children will never
know worse situations
than being parentless, and that is
something for me
to be happy about.
Corporates would be better to help
to pay for English and computer
or other technical skills
for these kids, as that would
really be something practical - hotel training, perhaps -
if they want to embark on ventures
both pragmatic and idealistic.
The Chinese could not have begun to
imagine
my disappointment when I compared
how willing and considerate they were, with the luxuriant obstinacy of Canadian governmental bureaucracy.
In simpler societies, people who have
the space
in their homes and the love in their
hearts
are allowed to take in a child
that no one may want at that particular
time.
I sometimes think of the day that
I visited the Shenzhen Children's
Home, yet not too long.
Arielle Gabriel, Vancouver, BC, June
24, 2005.
