My Sister

(Jared was seven years old when Janelle joined the family by adoption. Jared was eighteen when he wrote this in response to a teenage boy asking if there were any writings by siblings of adoptees. These are some of Jared's experiences)

5 years old: When I was five or six, my parents decided to adopt. I wasn't surprised because they had always talked about adopting.

6 years old: It's August, and the Federal Express man delivered pictures and information about my sister. Mom asked me, "Isn't she cute?" I thought my baby sister was a beautiful baby.

7 years old: My sister was supposed to arrive in November, but government delays kept her at the orphanage. Finally, in February, Mom went to get her. We were at the airport to meet them, along with 150 friends and family members. Jerry Dillon, founder of the Dillon adoption agency we used, held me on his shoulders so I could get a good look at my sister coming off the plane. A couple of days later, I wanted to take her to my class' show and tell, but Mom said my sister had to adjust to us before we let her go to a bunch of strangers.

Mom and Dad had talked to me about questions friends and strangers might ask me. I knew all the answers, except to the first question I was asked. The neighbor down the street asked me how much my sister costs. I had never thought about that. I told him I didn't know, and then I went home and told my Mom and Dad that it wasn't fair to spend so much money for her and not for me. They responded by telling me that it is illegal to buy and sell children. They said they had to pay for the airplane ticket, home study, court fees and things like that. Mom was not happy with our neighbor.

My best friend had thought that our adoption was a strange thing to do. His Mom was pregnant at the same time we were adopting and he has a sister who looks just like him. My sister doesn't look anything like me. One day he asked me if I liked my sister. I told him "Yes". He asked me if I would like her better if she wasn't adopted. I told him, "No" Then he asked me if I would like her better if she was white. I told him, if she were white then she wouldn't be her. He said, "What if she was just like who she is, but her skin color is different?" I told him, "I like her just the way she is." He never brought up the subject of being adopted or looking different again.

My Mom tells me this story, but I don't remember it. She said that one day I asked her if I could learn Creole (language of my sister's birth country). At that time my parents didn't know anyone who could teach me Creole, but they said they would try to find a teacher. Then my Mom asked me why I wanted to learn Creole. I told her that if something happened to her, my sister would be sent back to the orphanage and I had decided that I would go with her. I can't imagine saying something like that, but I do remember my parents talking to us about their will and where we would go if they died.

A few weeks after my sister arrived, a television reporter did an interview with our family. The reporter asked me what I would do if my sister decided to find her birth mother. I told the reporter that I thought it would be normal for a child to want to find her first family.

8 years old: Everyone knows about our family, so I don't have any more questions to answer.

11 years old: We moved overseas for three years. The questions started again, but nothing new. One of my good friends did tell me that I was lucky to have a sister. He lived in a country that had a one-child policy and we were the only family in our town with more then one child.

15 years old: We went to culture camp, and I was a helper with the crafts activity. There were only two non-Haitian siblings at camp, but we all had a lot of fun. My sister said she liked being with a large group of families that looked like her.

People who get to know us comment that my sister and I are like any "real brother and sister". We have fun times together and fight times together, but we are real brother and sister.

© 2003