A Legit, Smart, Dignified Hand Up -- Haitian Families First!

Stolen from the "Haitian Families First" website:

"  .  .  .  families still overcoming the devastation of their country to find employment, supply their loved ones’ most basic needs, and provide for their children’s educations  .  .  . 

Once, a woman named Junia faced this devastating reality. Junia was raising two daughters on her own after leaving their father, who was abusive to her. A cook at one of Haiti’s few beach resorts, Junia was laid off one day when the company unexpectedly downsized. With no one to help her, she thought she would have to place one of her daughters in an orphanage while she looked for work to support her other daughter. She thought she had no other choice.

But thankfully, Jamie and Ali thought differently, and offered Junia a job working for their organization. Junia not only got to keep both daughters with her, she also got to fulfill a life-long dream: to work with children. Jamie and Ali also helped Junia raise the money she needed to send her daughters to school, something many women like Junia cannot afford to do.

Although she's a busy, working single mother, Junia recently took into her care another child, Jeremie, whose mother had died giving birth to him and whose father is unknown. Jeremie needed very special care—he weighed less than 2 pounds at birth—and Junia gave it to him. She plans to adopt Jeremie because, as she told Jamie and Ali, someone helped her, and now it’s her turn." 

(http://www.haitianorphanrescue.org/our_story.html)

Here's MY two cents, whether it's worth a hill of beans  .  .  . :
Damn, they're good!  You see, a lot of children can and should stay right where they are -- with their birth families who want to raise and parent them.  Too often families lose one another due to the singular factor of poverty.  There are also some children who do actually need a chance to have a family through adoption; they legitimately need a forever family, and the causes can be any one or several of many.  This is why a small (hands-on) operation like Jamie and Ali's Haitian Families First (HFF) makes the best sense -- they get to know personally the people to whom they extend a hand.  A not-for-profit, low-overhead organization (the McMutries don't even earn a salary) is able to focus without distraction on their aim of individualized and appropriate service with dignity.

Did it stop anyone else in their tracks to read the last line of the HFF website excerpt above?  "She plans to adopt Jeremie  .  .  . "  SHE plans to!  How often do we, service-minded folks, offer to fulfill the best hopes of a parent who placed their child for adoption by joining our families and stepping in as the child's new, forever family?  Or donate money to the orphanage that houses the kids until they move to their destinations overseas?  After we've been fortunate enough to be taught, and humble enough to learn that the numbers of children left to orphanages could be reduced through serious family preservation efforts, we may channel our resources in that direction.  How astounding it is, then, to see HFF empower a step beyond even that -- a hand-up to a fellow human who now stands so firmly on her own two feet that she is already paying it forward byhelping a tiny Haitian boy have his own new family within his native homeland, and a healthy future.  Her choice.  Her power.  Her dignity.

THIS is why I am so passionate about supporting the work of Jamie and Ali McMutrie.

Big Times for the Cluver Girls

Well, Wee Cluver Girl donned some red, white, and blue for the 11-11-11 Veterans' Day assembly at school, and despite being a bundle of nerves, performed nicely her reading part at the microphone. 

Older Sis' took to the stage in her choral part (in the Mission Band) in "Guys & Dolls Jr." for her middle school (hence the plain white blouse and black slacks -- h/t Rem & Karen), and two hours before heading out from home for the final performance, she got an uber, ginormous, shocking, can't-believe-it surprise visit from her dear Pittsburgh friend, Grace!

The Tjelmeland family was traveling from St. Louis back to Pittsburgh, and Mama Kay had prearranged with me for this delightful stop-by for the girls.  They hugged, and giggled, and talked, and hugged.  Gotta love girlfriends!  Chad and I had the chance to get to know Grace and her family and it was a really nice, relaxed two hours of interesting conversation.  Delightful!  We look forward to seeing them again when we make our way out east.

Bay and I attended the Friday night performance of Anna's play with my parents, Pap and Grandma Finch, where we encountered a family friend who is also a parent of one of my students, has a daughter in Anna's class (in the play), and younger children at the gradeschool.  She stopped to expound excitedly about Baylor's great job reading confidently, clearly, and proudly earlier in the day at the assembly;  Bay grinned and blushed excitedly.  Earlier that night, during our pre-play dinner at Panera, we ran into a couple of my parents' friends from Freeport who, by happenstance, were in this neck of the woods 2 1/2 hours from their home.  Sometimes I take better notice and pause to appreciate the people around me, around us, and it's comforting.  It grounds me, supports me, lifts me up.

Chad and the boys enjoyed the play Saturday night with Pap and Grandma Cluver, and so, for today's final performance, we did the drop-of, pick-up approach.  Reappearing at the school at the time of the final bow, I made myself available to help with tear-down and/or clean-up before leaving for home, and while I did what I was able, so many parents with power tools and know-how really make quick business of the real work.  I ran into the parents of several of the kids' friends and quite a few of my students, spent some time, in particular talking with the father and then the mother of one of Baylor's dearest gal pals.  (They have older children, also, one of whom was in the MS production.)  We smiled and shook our heads slowly as we appreciated how alike are our younger girls -- so full of energy and creativity; how they delight in each other's company.  Connections.  All of these connections that in the "to do's" of daily life I have taken not enough time to relish.

Friends from my old stomping grounds, friends in the community into which we've settled as adults, and new friends from my birthplace of Pittsburgh.  Reassuring.  Reminding.  Exploring.  Two girls at microphones -- stepping up and standing tall.  Roots and wings for the Cluver girls.  All three of us.

Lights

Twenty-ish "burning bushes" all around the front porch are now their autumnal, vibrant red.

The sun is out!

A daughter moisturized, combed, and styled her own hair (2+hours of work) for the first time -- with (wait for IT...) positive, helper-attitude!  (ALL the angels are singing a chorus of Amen AND Allelujia on this one.  Way seriously epic proportions of hooray.)

Have I ever mentioned that I like decaf coffee? 

A son is reading aloud, alone, and with fluency and inflection "Green Eggs and Ham."  Big jump in reading skills and confidence!  (BIG smile -- from us both.)

When the big $19.99 Target investment in a daughter's wardrobe

continues  to be as big a hit once home as it was at the store. 

(And is paired happily with last year's leggings and the $7 clearance boots.)

The $5 mini-pillow-pet.  Yes, Target.  Daughter had just enough allowance saved up for "Mango."



Strangely enough, one of life's delights (to me) is evidence that "Baylor's been here."

Notice the brand-new, unsharpened condition of the pencil -- certainly so as to assure that LilyAnn doesn't make any stray marks on the beloved coloring page of Jesse.

Rainbow princess, I believe in distress. Clone Trooper, scratching his knee? 

Pumpkin Princess all "Oh, no, you dinn't." 

Ninja revival ('stume of a few years back) with throwing star injury to the right orb.

Some of the boys' "Adoption Day" gifts. 

Adoption Day!

Nutella and fruit-filled croissants and homemade lattes to start our day.

Beatha Anna Samedy Cluver and Jameson Edward Mesilas Cluver

While Anna does, indeed, prefer to go by her new, legal middle name, we preserved Beatha as her first name.  Anna and Edward honor multiple members of our extended families, along many branches of our clans.  Their previous Haitian surnames are kept, but now, as second middle names.

The 11:00 appointment flowed smoothly, quickly, and with thoroughness.  I'll have to bum some clearer shots from one of the grandparents in attendance, as my camera didn't function so well

(as you can see above).  (Did I mention I have really got to shop for a new camera?)

We followed up with a 12 o'clock lunch at Avanti's, and then desserts at my sister's.  

A lovely day.  Thank you, family!

And as all homework in our possession had already been completed by the day prior, the boys were free to play once back home; they took advantage of the late-season pampass grass in the far corner of the yard for creating a secret fort, complete with signs, boundary stakes, and checkers.

And as we will be booked solid this coming weekend, tonight was the only time available for pumpkin preparations.  This is Hunter's "ghost."

The artist sketches the features for her jack-o-lantern,

which once carved with help from Dad is then also painted by Anna;

pink polka dots, of course!

Jameson going all-in for the seed-scooping.

A-glow!  According to Jameson this is his first carved-and-lit pumpkin experience.

It was a monumental day, and yet, a day with children wherein life goes on even without fanfare.  Checkers, and pumpkins, and a dress with spaghetti stains to wash.  Showers done and back packs ready.  Immigration forms to process and over a year of time to wait before citizenship is within reach. 

At the conclusion of the hearing, as the judge prepared to make his official decision, his words to Chad and I did, however, give me pause.  We were finished answering questions confirming our occupations, the date on which the kids came into our care, and other technicalities, and to the two of us he said beautiful things, validating, sincere, meaningful compliments and congratulations.  That is when my lip quivered.  Today is a step in what has been and what will continue to be a lengthy, complicated, unpredictable process.  A step, nonetheless, worthy of pause and reflection. 

Last night we were going over the plans for the day, and Jameson was curious about what the judge would look like, and in that musing he said he likes "Obama." Then, I became curious and confused, and I told him that I doubted the President of the United States would be in our courtroom.  He corrected me, "No, I like him because he said I could get on the plane in Haiti and come here."

And with that, the merry-go-round stopped, and I remembered.  I remembered to remember.  The sights and sounds of death feeding live to CNN, emails and phone lines ablaze grasping desperately at loose straws to try to make ourselves of use to keep the kids at the orphanage alive and to get them evacuated to safety in the United States.  I wouldn't have a beaming Tiger or artistic Anna enriching our lives, sleeping beneath our roof, if it wasn't for the incredible, collective effort of diverse persons doing their best for children, and some luck, and God's grace.    I feel an overwhelming gratitude to so many people.  It began with two women on the ground in Haiti who started the chain, and would not leave until all of the children were allowed to leave with them.  Surrounded by death, they gambled for life, and our children won.

Thank you, Jamie and Ali McMutrie.

The White House.  The Haitian judge and US Embassy in Port-au-Prince. 

PA Governor Ed Rendell.  The City of Pittsburgh.

Our family, friends, and the new family-friends we've made along this journey.

And to all those who've made possible the kids' transition to our home in Illinois.

I'll close late this eve with Hunter's recent poem for English class:

Fun

Amazing

Master piece

Is wonderful

Living good

Your closest thing

Oh,

  .  .  .  and fresh bak-la-va-ahhhhhh!  A most fabulous guest speaker returned to my Geography classes for the 5th year running (thank you!) to share his Greek heritage with the freshmen  .  .  .  In addition to awesome stories about Greek culture and his fascinating up-bringing, motivational talk to the kids about dreams, goals, and staying out of trouble, this gentleman also treats us to my favorite Greek dessert.  His visits are always a huge hit, and my kids at home delight in his extra generosity of sending with me the remaining pastries. 

And it's Friday.  Breathe  .  .  .

(What would I do without ellipsis?)

Sashay . . . Sashay, Sashay, Sashay!

New brown fashion boots and new black fashion boots for one girl.  New black dress shoes and black fashion boots for the other.  I stuck to the list, and to the budget.  You should have seen the girls pop their steps and cock their shoulders as they walked the aisles to test the potential purchases -- a bit of extra bounce and sass when they found just the right pairs.  Exhausted mama admits the energy expenditure was well worth it.  Me tired.  We happy.

Love Thy Neighbor

I conjured this little ditty spring of '09 when we lost our dear neighbor, Virginia; every fall I am pulled strongly to think of her  .  .  .

Golden flakes waved through sun and breeze

From darkest branches of sugar maple

All around and above

The neighborhood glowed

A warmth.

On the first early morn

Working on our new, old home

A visitor arrives

With square hot glass

Bubbling with baked grain and cinnamon.

In a dark, frosty eve

We return the walk from

Our yard to hers,

And she welcomes us

Into heat of her house.

We sit upon sofa

Quiet and polite.

Virginia hears much, sees all,

Remembers everything.

She chats and compliments,

Embracing. 

Welcoming.

Calm.

After new leaves sprout

And sprinklers are set,

We perch upon lawn chairs

On the sizzle of sidewalk

Viewing the annual parade.

She summons the kids for candy

With smiles.

Always with smiles.

Before ants attach to wrappers sweet,

Treats are plucked from grass.

Return of the deep, yellowish-orange

Hovering in cool skies.

Geese fly,

And children climb the jungle gym,

Insulated by jackets and caps.

We return to this very spot

Of Autumn.

And I smell cinnamon

From memory

With eyes closed I pause.

Followed by ice and snow crystal.

And then another fresh spring

With lilacs and dogwoods.

Season after season

After season.

Degrees, wet, leaves, and blooms

Roll out, and on, and over.

Keep cuddled and bundled

then free to the sun.

But this vernal period she's left us,

And the breeze is cold.

She waited for our back lights to glow

To reassure of our presence,

But we haven't finished the new, back room,

Yet.

The neighborly dinners

And Ruehl Street teas

I'd envisioned clank loudly

As unfinished deeds.

If only I could have the grace of Virginia.

With a breath I look up,

Because she is home.



(The epitome of loveliness, dignity, and gentleness, Virginia was, indeed, a most fabulous neighbor, woman, and friend.  We miss her.)

Short Break

Hi.  I'm back.  I've not been blogging at my normal frequency, because, um, life has intervened with some children folk requiring a lot of extra.  A lot of extra.  Despite the throbbing vein in my brow, I still like these little people, and hence, the courtesy blotting-out of names in the photograph to the left.  Yes, these are the scraps-as-reminders to Chad and I so that in the chaos of comings and goings during the days and nights we can keep straight which youngin' is in which sort of solitary confinement or media diet.  This loveliness flanked by holiday pumpkins to be carved sometime (nightly question of "When?" answered nightly with "Closer to Halloween so they don't rot!"), and soon-to-be over-ripe 'nanas, and an army of plastic cups -- an army, I tell ya.

Ah, BUT, I am feeling a little (a wee little) like there is some cause-effect beginning to take hold for some kiddos -- to a higher degree (or deeper level) than previously with this go 'round of teaching, modeling, reinforcing, consequencing, reteaching, re-modeling  .  .  .  (Knock on wood, dance a jig, say a prayer.)

And I did make the smart choice last weekend to put out the fall decorations despite having too much that "needs to be done."  Because, frankly, this year, I have not YET gotten caught up, let alone, ahead on any-thing.  Not any thing.  So, a bit of sanity by a trip to happy seasonal decor land and then back to endless piles or just the endless piles?  Eventually the answer becomes as plain as the butt on a goat.  (Are goats' butts plain?  I suppose.  Odd phrase.  Thanks, Mom, for embedding that idiom into the recesses of the part of my brain responsible for language.) 

And as mentioned in the previous "To Light" post -- last weekend was weatherific  .  .  .  AND that is something that makes me relax, even if momentarily.  Because my camera is stinky, I will make a lame attempt to compensate with quantity ; )

The view out the front door made me smile repeatedly as I ventured between the core of the house where the kid action is and my little office nook at the front of the home. 

My digital could NOT capture the warmth and the golden hues, nor the gentle breeze that kept the dried grasses waving and crunchy leaves cascading steadily to the ground.  I walked out into the front yard several times for no reason other than to soak it up bit by bit.

 In a few more days, this tree across the street (sugar maple) will be a RICH orange.  Every year it reminds me of our first weekend at this address  .  .  .  late October in an old neighborhood, with lots of friendly "grandmas" as neighbors (bearing hot coffee cake and waves from porches),

 and towering old trees to envelope us with color.

 Seriously tried to snap shots of leaves twirling and swirling down all around me.  And failed.

And 3rd grade science projects came home.  Jameson created the Port-au-Prince earthquake with plastic, giant-Lego-style blocks (and tape to hold the building remains in precarious stages of collapse and rubble).  He, however, dismantled his work before Mama could take a pic.  Hoarder Bay, however, STILL has her masterpeice in her upstairs "classroom," and a photo is always necessary insurance should the beloved object become the result of an accident and cease to exist in it's original, glorious state.  In case you didn't readily identify it, THIS is Mt. Vesuvius, of course.

In this entirely overwhelming week (I'll spare you from any images of the Mt. Vesuvius of dishes in and around the area where I believe we still have a kitchen sink) I'm trying to call upon the happy place of crisp autumnal bliss, and hoping my desk at school doesn't erupt.

To Light . . .

Four days (last Fri through this Mon.) of the most awesomest uber good perfect fall weather EV-ER!  Just enough breeze to rustle a steady, downward flow of crunchy orange and brown leaves in our front yard and up and down our block.  Gorgeous!

Decaf coffee, still -- it's hot, rich.  (Two things I'm not.)

Teachers who are willing to email.  (ALL of my kids' teachers have provided blessedly helpful tidbits and check-ins.)

That I can read a magazine while walking on the treadmill without any tripping tragedies, yet.  Makes the 30-minute escape to the little local gym more of a mini-get-away.

Fall decorations.

A visit from a lovely gentleman from the MFHS '57 basketball team (1st to make state tourney for li'l ol' MF), bearing kind gifts of old history textbooks (1930s) and autumn-themed ceramic platter, creamer, and sugar  .  .  .  other sweet items, and a most pleasant conversation.

Firepit s'mores at a friend's house.

Having a husband that is hands-on, co-parent.  (I'd otherwise lose the rest of my mind.)

A Family Respected and Preserved

Go take a peak at http://mytriptohaiti.wordpress.com/

(I love those McMutrie ladies!)