A recent article in Science Magazine revealed that
"African-American applicants are 13 percentage points less likely to receive NIH investigator-initiated research funding compared with whites. After controlling for the applicant's educational background, country of origin, training, previous research awards, publication record, and employer characteristics, we find that black applicants remain 10 percentage points less likely than whites to be awarded NIH research funding."
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
We're back!!! Sharing and Writing...
Greetings,
It's been a long while since we've used this blog, but we're back and at it again. This blog was designd to be a regularly updated companion to the Institute for Family and Child Well-Being website.
Specifically, we created this blog to allow for a more regular and continuous exchange of information and ideas about current events and happenings affecting the lives of African American children and families.
Your host for this blog is Oronde Miller, the founder and executive director of the Institute, and author of Facing the Rising Sun: Perspectives on African American Family and Child Well-Being.
We encourage you to check back frequently, share your comments, share additional resources you think people should be aware of, and share information about this resource with others.
Thanks for visiting, and we look forward to our continued conversation.
Take care!
oam
It's been a long while since we've used this blog, but we're back and at it again. This blog was designd to be a regularly updated companion to the Institute for Family and Child Well-Being website.
Specifically, we created this blog to allow for a more regular and continuous exchange of information and ideas about current events and happenings affecting the lives of African American children and families.
Your host for this blog is Oronde Miller, the founder and executive director of the Institute, and author of Facing the Rising Sun: Perspectives on African American Family and Child Well-Being.
We encourage you to check back frequently, share your comments, share additional resources you think people should be aware of, and share information about this resource with others.
Thanks for visiting, and we look forward to our continued conversation.
Take care!
oam
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Best Case Scenario: Dispelling the Myth that African American Couples Are Not Capable of Raising African American Siblings
I have known for quite some time now what a blessing it is that our parents decided to adopt my biological brother and me in 1972. There is no way they could have known then that their decision to adopt us would inspire both of us to educate and encourage other black families, social workers and legislators to have their voices heard and that they can make a difference when it comes to making decisions concerning black families adopting black children. My parents are one of many black couples that have proven that this myth about there not being any black families waiting to adopt black children or that somehow black families are not qualified to adopt black children is simply untrue. Unfortunately, there are many people in key positions that could recruit and approve more black families but they choose not to. I am grateful that an educated, heterosexual, black couple that has a strong belief in God adopted me.
Today I realize that there is a certain cultural competency that parents must have to raise black children. A lot of what I learned from my parents I learned simply by observing them and watching how they reacted in certain situations. There were some situations they found themselves having to deal with simply because they were a black couple living in this country. Other lessons I learned simply by listening to the type of music my parents listen to or looking at the art work and sculptures that my parents had around the house. It has been necessary for me to draw on all of this knowledge and use those experiences as an adult. I can only imagine what the outcomes may have been in my life without having that knowledge and having had those experiences.
Another one of the reasons I am grateful to have been adopted by my parents is because they taught me what a healthy marriage looks like. My father loves my mom. I know how to treat a woman today because I have watched my mother and father interact with one another all of my life. I know that I have to respect women and treat them, as I would want my mother to be treated. I know that there is a certain amount of compromise that is necessary in order to have a successful relationship. I also know that it is healthy for a husband to be physically attracted to his wife. I know most of this because of what I observed as a child growing up in a healthy heterosexual household. I believe that our children are taught certain behavior by watching television, listening to music and playing video games. I believe that children can learn certain behavior by simply observing the environment they live in as well. I know most of what I learned as a child I learned because of what I observed, not by what I was being told.
When Oronde and I were placed for adoption by Homes for Black Children Adoption Agency in Detroit, Michigan, there was a commitment by the agency to place us together. I do not see that same commitment by other agencies today. It seems to be commonplace to separate siblings for the sake of the placement with little or no thought placed on the ramifications of that separation. The bond that siblings have with one another is so precious and in many cases it is the only bond that gives them the sense that they are not alone in this world.
Many of you may know that I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma on March 11, 2000. I had exhausted all of my treatment options after many cycles of chemotherapy and radiation and my doctors were getting ready to send me to a hospice. It turned out that Oronde matched all six markers needed to be my bone marrow donor and that I received his bone marrow via a stem cell transplant. The first transplant only lasted about six months so I had to do a second stem cell transplant. Today, ninety five percent of the bone marrow that my body produces is Oronde's.
I tell that story because it shows how important it was that I had been placed with my brother and given the chance to bond with him. Homes for Black Children had no way of knowing that they were saving my life by placing us together. Had they separated Oronde and I for the sake of the placement, and if I were never able to find him as an adult, then I would not be living today. This is the reality and a possible outcome for thousands of sibling groups that are being separated today. Ensuring siblings are placed together whenever possible should be one of the highest priorities for a social worker and the adoption agency.
It is also my belief that we need to make social workers more accountable to the job they do gathering a child's family history. The social worker's obligation to all of their children is to be diligent when it comes to collecting family history. They should not only gather the mother's side of the family history, but they should gather the father's side of the family history as well. This is important because an adult adoptee may start researching the medical history of their biological family or they may try to find any siblings that they may have. If there was a thorough history done by the social worker then at least this information will be in the non-identifying information file that the adult adoptee is given when they initiate this search.
It has been a blessing for me to have been adopted by my mother and father and I am forever grateful. The fact that they adopted me and Oronde together dispels the myth that an educated, heterosexual, black couple that believes in God does not exist, and if they do, that they cannot successfully raise black children.
Khari A. Miller
Raleigh, North Carolina
Khari A. Miller can be contacted via email at khari.miller@yahoo.com. You can also visit his professional consulting website at: www.askiaenterprises.com.
Today I realize that there is a certain cultural competency that parents must have to raise black children. A lot of what I learned from my parents I learned simply by observing them and watching how they reacted in certain situations. There were some situations they found themselves having to deal with simply because they were a black couple living in this country. Other lessons I learned simply by listening to the type of music my parents listen to or looking at the art work and sculptures that my parents had around the house. It has been necessary for me to draw on all of this knowledge and use those experiences as an adult. I can only imagine what the outcomes may have been in my life without having that knowledge and having had those experiences.
Another one of the reasons I am grateful to have been adopted by my parents is because they taught me what a healthy marriage looks like. My father loves my mom. I know how to treat a woman today because I have watched my mother and father interact with one another all of my life. I know that I have to respect women and treat them, as I would want my mother to be treated. I know that there is a certain amount of compromise that is necessary in order to have a successful relationship. I also know that it is healthy for a husband to be physically attracted to his wife. I know most of this because of what I observed as a child growing up in a healthy heterosexual household. I believe that our children are taught certain behavior by watching television, listening to music and playing video games. I believe that children can learn certain behavior by simply observing the environment they live in as well. I know most of what I learned as a child I learned because of what I observed, not by what I was being told.
When Oronde and I were placed for adoption by Homes for Black Children Adoption Agency in Detroit, Michigan, there was a commitment by the agency to place us together. I do not see that same commitment by other agencies today. It seems to be commonplace to separate siblings for the sake of the placement with little or no thought placed on the ramifications of that separation. The bond that siblings have with one another is so precious and in many cases it is the only bond that gives them the sense that they are not alone in this world.
Many of you may know that I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's Lymphoma on March 11, 2000. I had exhausted all of my treatment options after many cycles of chemotherapy and radiation and my doctors were getting ready to send me to a hospice. It turned out that Oronde matched all six markers needed to be my bone marrow donor and that I received his bone marrow via a stem cell transplant. The first transplant only lasted about six months so I had to do a second stem cell transplant. Today, ninety five percent of the bone marrow that my body produces is Oronde's.
I tell that story because it shows how important it was that I had been placed with my brother and given the chance to bond with him. Homes for Black Children had no way of knowing that they were saving my life by placing us together. Had they separated Oronde and I for the sake of the placement, and if I were never able to find him as an adult, then I would not be living today. This is the reality and a possible outcome for thousands of sibling groups that are being separated today. Ensuring siblings are placed together whenever possible should be one of the highest priorities for a social worker and the adoption agency.
It is also my belief that we need to make social workers more accountable to the job they do gathering a child's family history. The social worker's obligation to all of their children is to be diligent when it comes to collecting family history. They should not only gather the mother's side of the family history, but they should gather the father's side of the family history as well. This is important because an adult adoptee may start researching the medical history of their biological family or they may try to find any siblings that they may have. If there was a thorough history done by the social worker then at least this information will be in the non-identifying information file that the adult adoptee is given when they initiate this search.
It has been a blessing for me to have been adopted by my mother and father and I am forever grateful. The fact that they adopted me and Oronde together dispels the myth that an educated, heterosexual, black couple that believes in God does not exist, and if they do, that they cannot successfully raise black children.
Khari A. Miller
Raleigh, North Carolina
Khari A. Miller can be contacted via email at khari.miller@yahoo.com. You can also visit his professional consulting website at: www.askiaenterprises.com.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Reflections On Another Child Fatality: We Must Do Better By Our Children!
I need to be completely honest as I start this essay. I haven’t always had much sympathy for or a solid understanding of the trials and tribulations of social workers working in public child welfare agencies. My introduction to public child welfare was really through the experiences of African American adoption agencies, many of which have endured their own share of struggles partnering with these large bureaucratic and frequently culturally unresponsive systems. I guess it’s also safe to say that some of my initial perceptions and perspective was based on my own personal experience with public child welfare systems.
My birth mother was pressured to give my brother and me up for adoption, during pregnancy and up until birth. After being placed voluntarily by our birth mother, our birth father and his family were turned away from the public child welfare agency after attempting to get my brother and me out of foster care. All of this I am sure contributed to my lack of compassion for and appreciation of the struggles of these systems, as well as the individuals working within them. As far as I was concerned they were the heartless and oppressive enemy – tearing African American families apart with no care or concern.
In my current job I am responsible for working directly with public child welfare agencies to achieve better outcomes for children and families, specifically providing support and technical assistance for their system improvement efforts. Whereas I once critiqued the work of these agencies looking in from the outside, I am now responsible for supporting the system transformation efforts they are all engaged in. Now critiquing from a distance isn’t an option. I have to be a part of the solution or be out. How interesting, given my own personal experience and previous perspective.
In my professional work over the last several years I have had an opportunity to work closely with social workers and child welfare administrators as they have attempted to transform their child welfare systems. In doing so I have gained a much better appreciation for what individuals working in these systems struggle against every day. These are large and complex bureaucratic systems. As a parent of two wonderful children I can assure you that actually caring for children is pretty easy compared to transforming these huge systems. At no time do I personally appreciate these dynamics more than when a child dies.
A few years ago I was involved in an on-going project working directly with child welfare administrators, social workers, community partners, as well as youth and birth parents that were themselves involved with the child welfare system. During that period one of the state systems we were working with experienced a child fatality. A young child had been removed from her family and placed in foster care. After a short period of time in care, the young girl was reunified with her birth parents. She was killed within weeks of being reunified.
Everyone involved with this child’s case was in strong agreement about returning this child to her parents. When they heard the child had been killed by the step-father, everyone was devastated. To ensure their safety, the siblings were immediately removed from the home and placed in foster care. The media raked the agency over the coals about the tragedy, calling for accountability, independent investigations and massive agency reforms, all the while demanding that the workers and administrators be fired.
I followed the media reports closely while also talking with the staff and administrators about some of the dynamics surrounding the incident. The supervisor shared with me the daily struggles they were trying to get through as the media continued to pile it on. She described to me the general fear they live with on a daily basis, knowing that every decision they make could be one of a child’s life or death. She talked about hearing the media reports during that evening the news broke, praying that the accused family and the child that had been killed wasn’t one they had worked with. She described the gut-wrenching feeling that came over her when she got the call shortly after seeing the media reports, confirming her worst fears. She tried to describe the harrowing feeling, like the life had been sucked out of her, when she found out who the girl was. She and the administrator both tried to describe this scenario repeatedly but couldn’t get through it without breaking down and crying.
Later, this same supervisor talked about how challenging it was to explain to the remaining children what happened to their little sister. She talked about how hard it was to explain to them why they were taken away from their parents and why they were not allowed to see them. She talked about how hard it was to get the siblings to go to school and continue with their daily routines. She talked about how hard it was to get the siblings ready for the funeral services, with reporters and cameras everywhere. She talked about how she couldn’t go to sleep at night since finding out about the child’s death. She talked about the relentless pressure placed on her to fire the social worker that was the primary case manager.
It was a very lonely and stressful period for her and all of the staff and administrators connected with this child and her family. Everyone outside seemingly wanted to place blame and no one wanted to believe that the agency really did do “everything right.” As tragic as the fatality was, the system seemingly could not have done anything more appropriate given the specific dynamics that played out with the family.
Having been involved on this side of the child welfare system, it’s difficult to read and hear the news stories talking about most child fatalities. None of the reporters are present when the social workers have to tell a child’s birth parents, or family of origin, that their child has died. The reporters aren’t present when the social workers explain to a child’s siblings that their brother or sister has died, and that they won’t ever be able to see them or talk with them again. They aren’t there when all the social worker can do is hold and embrace the child for hours at night until they either fall asleep or stop crying. The reporters aren’t present when the social workers stay up at night responding to the children’s nightmares, post-traumatic stress and depression. The reporters aren’t present when the social workers help the children get dressed and ready to attend the funeral services. They weren't there during the weeks following the funeral services when the social workers had to continue explaining to the children what it all meant.
The reporters must not know that the social workers and administrators also have to live the rest of their lives wondering if the child might still be alive if only they did just one thing differently… if only they made one different decision. No one talks about the social workers and their grieving process. No one reports on the social workers who refuse to ever work again as a child welfare social worker because of the guilt as well as the fear that they might “kill another child.”
The reporters don’t talk about this side of the work. For that matter, many city and state elected officials also don’t know about or appreciate these dynamics related to a child fatality when they make their pronouncements in front of the media about investigations, accountability and the firing of staff and administrators.
After learning of a pair of child fatalities several months ago in Maryland and the initial reporting about this horrific tragedy, I could not help but write this essay as a tribute to all social workers who give it their all every day and every night… all of those social workers that wake up every day praying that “their children” are alright… praying every day that none of their children’s cases make the headlines.
I also cannot help but think about the reality that so many more children come into foster care because social workers, supervisors, administrators and even judges don’t want to risk being wrong about a family. There are also the many “non-traditional” or “non-ideal” families and relatives that would be wonderful adoptive and kinship families but don’t make it through the licensing process because of the agency’s fear that something might happen. So many more children end up staying in foster care so much longer because of the public’s perception of child welfare, largely influenced by the media and the all-too-frequent knee-jerk reactions of elected officials.
So the next time you see a horrific tragedy involving children somehow connected to this nation’s child welfare system please withhold judgment until all of the facts come out. Be willing to accept that you may never know all of the facts surrounding the case. Assume for a change that the child welfare system may have done everything it could have, given its attempt to balance its mission of supporting families, protecting children from harm and respecting the rights of families to care for their children without unreasonable and unjustifiable intrusion from “state systems.”
I will be the first to say that child welfare systems do too often tear families apart unfairly and unnecessarily, fail to provide supports that meet their basic needs and fail to provide optimal living arrangements for children when they must be removed from their families of origin. I will also be the first to say that as individual citizens we know so little about how these systems work, and that our failure to understand these systems actually contributes to their ineffectiveness.
So the next time you find yourself heartbroken or even getting outraged about a child fatality, get inspired and get involved. Volunteering is always fine, but I am talking about really getting involved in their system transformation efforts. Organize community coalitions that partner with systems to achieve better outcomes for families and children, as opposed to only critiquing from a distance. There is a time for criticism, but it has to be followed by active and persistent efforts to achieve meaningful improvements.
Discover your role as a regular citizen in creating safety nets so that struggling families have a place to turn. Reach out to your neighbors and develop relationships so that our children don’t go unnoticed for months or years before we find out something has gone horribly wrong. Stop complaining about paying taxes to support ineffective and frequently under-resourced bureaucratic systems and actually help to take the stress and weight off of these systems.
We can transform this nation’s child welfare system. Indeed, we must! In their current form, many of these local systems don’t adequately meet even the basic support needs of our families and children. They do need to be held accountable. But we all have to stop offering our armchair critiques and get involved. There are many talented and committed people working within these systems and supporting children and families. Whether we individually like it or not, these systems have the power and legal mandate to intervene when they suspect that children have been or may be maltreated. If you don’t like how they do it, my challenge to you is to do your part to transform these systems into what they truly can and should be.
These are our families and our children. We have got to step up! Next time you find yourself making pronouncements about how things need to be different with these systems… finish your statement with the following words: “...and I will take the first step to make it happen.” We have everything we need to transform our community and make all of our families stronger. We can do this in our lifetime. Let’s start right now. We have a lot of work to do!
The author of this essay, Oronde A. Miller, can be reached via email at omiller@ifcwb.org.
My birth mother was pressured to give my brother and me up for adoption, during pregnancy and up until birth. After being placed voluntarily by our birth mother, our birth father and his family were turned away from the public child welfare agency after attempting to get my brother and me out of foster care. All of this I am sure contributed to my lack of compassion for and appreciation of the struggles of these systems, as well as the individuals working within them. As far as I was concerned they were the heartless and oppressive enemy – tearing African American families apart with no care or concern.
In my current job I am responsible for working directly with public child welfare agencies to achieve better outcomes for children and families, specifically providing support and technical assistance for their system improvement efforts. Whereas I once critiqued the work of these agencies looking in from the outside, I am now responsible for supporting the system transformation efforts they are all engaged in. Now critiquing from a distance isn’t an option. I have to be a part of the solution or be out. How interesting, given my own personal experience and previous perspective.
In my professional work over the last several years I have had an opportunity to work closely with social workers and child welfare administrators as they have attempted to transform their child welfare systems. In doing so I have gained a much better appreciation for what individuals working in these systems struggle against every day. These are large and complex bureaucratic systems. As a parent of two wonderful children I can assure you that actually caring for children is pretty easy compared to transforming these huge systems. At no time do I personally appreciate these dynamics more than when a child dies.
A few years ago I was involved in an on-going project working directly with child welfare administrators, social workers, community partners, as well as youth and birth parents that were themselves involved with the child welfare system. During that period one of the state systems we were working with experienced a child fatality. A young child had been removed from her family and placed in foster care. After a short period of time in care, the young girl was reunified with her birth parents. She was killed within weeks of being reunified.
Everyone involved with this child’s case was in strong agreement about returning this child to her parents. When they heard the child had been killed by the step-father, everyone was devastated. To ensure their safety, the siblings were immediately removed from the home and placed in foster care. The media raked the agency over the coals about the tragedy, calling for accountability, independent investigations and massive agency reforms, all the while demanding that the workers and administrators be fired.
I followed the media reports closely while also talking with the staff and administrators about some of the dynamics surrounding the incident. The supervisor shared with me the daily struggles they were trying to get through as the media continued to pile it on. She described to me the general fear they live with on a daily basis, knowing that every decision they make could be one of a child’s life or death. She talked about hearing the media reports during that evening the news broke, praying that the accused family and the child that had been killed wasn’t one they had worked with. She described the gut-wrenching feeling that came over her when she got the call shortly after seeing the media reports, confirming her worst fears. She tried to describe the harrowing feeling, like the life had been sucked out of her, when she found out who the girl was. She and the administrator both tried to describe this scenario repeatedly but couldn’t get through it without breaking down and crying.
Later, this same supervisor talked about how challenging it was to explain to the remaining children what happened to their little sister. She talked about how hard it was to explain to them why they were taken away from their parents and why they were not allowed to see them. She talked about how hard it was to get the siblings to go to school and continue with their daily routines. She talked about how hard it was to get the siblings ready for the funeral services, with reporters and cameras everywhere. She talked about how she couldn’t go to sleep at night since finding out about the child’s death. She talked about the relentless pressure placed on her to fire the social worker that was the primary case manager.
It was a very lonely and stressful period for her and all of the staff and administrators connected with this child and her family. Everyone outside seemingly wanted to place blame and no one wanted to believe that the agency really did do “everything right.” As tragic as the fatality was, the system seemingly could not have done anything more appropriate given the specific dynamics that played out with the family.
Having been involved on this side of the child welfare system, it’s difficult to read and hear the news stories talking about most child fatalities. None of the reporters are present when the social workers have to tell a child’s birth parents, or family of origin, that their child has died. The reporters aren’t present when the social workers explain to a child’s siblings that their brother or sister has died, and that they won’t ever be able to see them or talk with them again. They aren’t there when all the social worker can do is hold and embrace the child for hours at night until they either fall asleep or stop crying. The reporters aren’t present when the social workers stay up at night responding to the children’s nightmares, post-traumatic stress and depression. The reporters aren’t present when the social workers help the children get dressed and ready to attend the funeral services. They weren't there during the weeks following the funeral services when the social workers had to continue explaining to the children what it all meant.
The reporters must not know that the social workers and administrators also have to live the rest of their lives wondering if the child might still be alive if only they did just one thing differently… if only they made one different decision. No one talks about the social workers and their grieving process. No one reports on the social workers who refuse to ever work again as a child welfare social worker because of the guilt as well as the fear that they might “kill another child.”
The reporters don’t talk about this side of the work. For that matter, many city and state elected officials also don’t know about or appreciate these dynamics related to a child fatality when they make their pronouncements in front of the media about investigations, accountability and the firing of staff and administrators.
After learning of a pair of child fatalities several months ago in Maryland and the initial reporting about this horrific tragedy, I could not help but write this essay as a tribute to all social workers who give it their all every day and every night… all of those social workers that wake up every day praying that “their children” are alright… praying every day that none of their children’s cases make the headlines.
I also cannot help but think about the reality that so many more children come into foster care because social workers, supervisors, administrators and even judges don’t want to risk being wrong about a family. There are also the many “non-traditional” or “non-ideal” families and relatives that would be wonderful adoptive and kinship families but don’t make it through the licensing process because of the agency’s fear that something might happen. So many more children end up staying in foster care so much longer because of the public’s perception of child welfare, largely influenced by the media and the all-too-frequent knee-jerk reactions of elected officials.
So the next time you see a horrific tragedy involving children somehow connected to this nation’s child welfare system please withhold judgment until all of the facts come out. Be willing to accept that you may never know all of the facts surrounding the case. Assume for a change that the child welfare system may have done everything it could have, given its attempt to balance its mission of supporting families, protecting children from harm and respecting the rights of families to care for their children without unreasonable and unjustifiable intrusion from “state systems.”
I will be the first to say that child welfare systems do too often tear families apart unfairly and unnecessarily, fail to provide supports that meet their basic needs and fail to provide optimal living arrangements for children when they must be removed from their families of origin. I will also be the first to say that as individual citizens we know so little about how these systems work, and that our failure to understand these systems actually contributes to their ineffectiveness.
So the next time you find yourself heartbroken or even getting outraged about a child fatality, get inspired and get involved. Volunteering is always fine, but I am talking about really getting involved in their system transformation efforts. Organize community coalitions that partner with systems to achieve better outcomes for families and children, as opposed to only critiquing from a distance. There is a time for criticism, but it has to be followed by active and persistent efforts to achieve meaningful improvements.
Discover your role as a regular citizen in creating safety nets so that struggling families have a place to turn. Reach out to your neighbors and develop relationships so that our children don’t go unnoticed for months or years before we find out something has gone horribly wrong. Stop complaining about paying taxes to support ineffective and frequently under-resourced bureaucratic systems and actually help to take the stress and weight off of these systems.
We can transform this nation’s child welfare system. Indeed, we must! In their current form, many of these local systems don’t adequately meet even the basic support needs of our families and children. They do need to be held accountable. But we all have to stop offering our armchair critiques and get involved. There are many talented and committed people working within these systems and supporting children and families. Whether we individually like it or not, these systems have the power and legal mandate to intervene when they suspect that children have been or may be maltreated. If you don’t like how they do it, my challenge to you is to do your part to transform these systems into what they truly can and should be.
These are our families and our children. We have got to step up! Next time you find yourself making pronouncements about how things need to be different with these systems… finish your statement with the following words: “...and I will take the first step to make it happen.” We have everything we need to transform our community and make all of our families stronger. We can do this in our lifetime. Let’s start right now. We have a lot of work to do!
The author of this essay, Oronde A. Miller, can be reached via email at omiller@ifcwb.org.
Friday, December 5, 2008
One Person's Testimony: Rediscovering and Reclaiming your voice during life's most difficult days
Greetings, and thank you for reading this latest issue of our ongoing analysis and commentary publication, Perspectives on Our Work.
I’ll share at the outset that writing this essay has been a very different experience for me, compared to the others I have written. This has, by far, been the most difficult essay for me to write. I hope it has even a fraction of the meaning for some of you that it has had for me while writing it.
My Testimony
In this essay, I want to reflect on some dynamics I have been experiencing, at least in a more pronounced way, for the last year or more. I am clear that some of my motive for sharing these experiences is probably selfish. I am certainly hoping that writing about these dynamics helps to free my spirit up a bit. But moreso, I hope that reading this essay will help some of you reflect on and perhaps appreciate the need for us to heal ourselves, our families, and to reach out to those individuals we know are struggling... helping to find that peace that we all seek. We are the only ones we’ve got, so we’ve got to pull it together.
Cancer
The last year has been extremely challenging for me. I have found myself at so many different extremes of life’s emotional spectrum. As many of you know my brother, Khari Miller, has been battling cancer for almost nine years. He was diagnosed with Hodgkins Lymphoma in March of 2000. He has fought valiantly and continues to fight the good fight. The cancer is still present, and continues to spread, but slow enough for Khari to keep living a life of passion, meaning and purpose. I know it’s been extremely difficult for him; and I also know it’s been difficult for others close to him, including myself.
Doctors have called Khari a walking and living miracle, precisely because of how extensively the cancer had spread throughout his body by the time he was diagnosed. The first oncologists that took his case gave him a maximum six months to live, even with the initial advanced chemotherapy and radiation treatments they were prescribing. Within the last eight years he’s been through multiple regimens of chemotherapy and radiation treatments and several experimental cancer treatments. He has also undergone two bone marrow / stem cell transplants, for which I had the honor of being the donor. I am so thankful that he is still with us, and continues to press on.
Relatively recently, I found out that two other individuals that I am close to were diagnosed with cancer. In early 2008 my father was diagnosed with early stages of prostate cancer. After several months of consultation with multiple doctors and a number of prostate cancer survivors, as well as months of careful research and consideration, my father decided to undergo a newly developed laser surgery to have the cancer removed. I am so thankful to report that the surgery was very successful. As far as we know, this was by far a best case scenario for dad and the family.
Also last spring another very close friend and colleague was diagnosed with a challenging case of breast cancer. This past summer she underwent a pair of surgeries, and now continues to undergo regular chemotherapy treatments. She is hanging in there as well, but it continues to be very challenging.
While each of these individuals is very close to my heart, it’s been difficult being completely responsive to each of them and their respective challenges with an open and prayerful heart.
Closer to Home
During this same time period my relationship with another individual, who has certainly been closest to my heart for the past almost ten years, has unraveled at the seams, seemingly at record speed. This particular experience, which really escalated last spring, has been most difficult to cope with and make sense of.
I always thought I was at peace with, or at least in control of, my emotions and reflections on my foster care and adoption experience. I can say very clearly now that this recent and still unfolding experience has evoked some of the most painful and frightening feelings of rejection and abandonment that I have ever been forced to deal with. This experience has exposed many feelings and emotions I honestly never knew existed within me. This experience has touched the core of who I am, spiritually and emotionally, and has challenged many of my assumptions about relationships, marriage and family.
During the last nine months I have experienced pretty concerning night sweats and other body temperature fluctuations, heaviest during the summer and early fall. I simultaneously lost approximately 15-20 pounds. It’s been a rough period, with many highs and lows, moments of hope and despair, as well as some periods of extreme anger, resentment and frustration. Fortunately, I can now see a light of hope and healing off in the distance, and I continue to work through this experience anxiously and prayerfully.
Why am I sharing this?
Now why am I sharing all of this, and particularly in this format? Like I said earlier I am sure some of this is selfish. Writing is a healing exercise for me. Writing is my outlet for personal reflection and expression. Just writing about some of these experiences and dynamics helps me feel better… just getting it off my chest. Acknowledging the pain is liberating.
Moreover, I grew up within the Black church tradition. A big part of that tradition is expressiveness, evidenced in the tradition of testifying. Testifying serves many different purposes. Sometimes we testify because we know what we’ve been through, and we just want to give thanks to the Creator for guiding us through it. Sometimes we testify because what we are going through still hurts, and we just need to acknowledge it so that we can work through it.
I recognize that the totality of my recent experiences has pushed me way past my old comfort zone and has forced me to deal with things that are so painful… fear of being alone, rejection, abandonment and loss; a rigidity in my core values and sensibilities; and very sharp perspectives on the importance of family, relationships and marriage. I wanted to reflect openly on at least some of this, so that maybe even just one other person can benefit from my experience and perhaps find a more peaceful and healing space to live in. This is exactly what I am trying to do right now.
Being Open to Possibilities
For much of my adult life I have frowned on the typical American approach toward therapy and counseling in this “not well” society of ours. I always frowned on it as being culturally out of sync and detached. For the most part I still fundamentally believe that is true about the field. In the last several months, however, I have actually opened myself up to the possible benefits of seeing a counselor. It’s been a productive experience so far. I was afraid for the longest time because all of the people that I knew (among my peers) that had undergone marriage counseling had ended up in a personal space and place that I was afraid of being in. But I was desperate to talk with someone and wanted affirmation that I wasn’t going crazy in my reactions to some of the dynamics I was struggling to make sense of.
I’m still very much in the midst of it, but I want to acknowledge that I was a little off base in my assessment. Counseling is certainly not the answer to the problems we face, but it can be a powerful resource and process for helping us make sense of what we are experiencing. Indeed I still believe the counselor needs to be culturally in sync with you, but if that is the case it can be a powerful experience. It has been and continues to be for me. It really has helped me make sense of my current circumstances, and it has also pushed me to work on and work through some understandable yet still unhealthy aspects of my personality.
I have also come to appreciate some other things as of late. The first is the important reminder that I have been and continue to be blessed beyond measure… “blessed and highly favored” as we tend to say.
I have certainly been directly affected by the experiences of my close friends and family members battling cancer. I am also clear that I am not the one that has to endure the difficult physical challenges presented by surgery, chemotherapy and radiation. Sure it hurts personally to see loved ones struggling against illnesses as serious as these, but the battle they experience is very different. When it’s all said and done, however, all of us share a mutual responsibility to be a support and healing resource for one another along this journey. And let’s be clear that we cannot help others if we are not at least half-way well ourselves. Compassion, with a deep appreciation of the challenges, pain and suffering of other people, can help free us up to experience our own healing. But we have to be present enough to focus on others and not just our own challenges, pain and suffering.
In talking with some of my closest friends I have come to appreciate that when we are struggling through depression or some other life challenges, we are not the only ones affected. As I have tried to work through these challenges in recent months, I have hurt others that are close to me. My style is to retreat and close myself off to others when things get hard. I can even lash out at others that try to get close enough to help. That only creates more pain and hurt for the very people that are closest to us and care about us. It also disconnects us from the real healing work and relationships we have been put in this world to nurture and develop. I am more clear now that the only way we can get through some of our “stuff” is to deal with it straight up and out in the open. To work through it with the very people that are closest to us and care most about us is critical.
What does this all mean?
Now let me tie this together in some kind of coherent way. As I mentioned, writing this essay has been a bit more challenging for me than usual. I also realize that what I am sharing in this essay accounts for why I haven’t even written an essay in over a year. It explains why I have only half-heartedly pursued those relationships, ideas, activities and life goals that are most fulfilling for me. It explains why I haven’t given more of myself to the individuals closest to me.
This, brothers and sisters, isn’t truly living. Unfortunately, however, this is the way many of us walk along life’s path. No longer will this be my story. I appreciate now, more than ever, that my children deserve to see their father live life with the passion, enthusiasm, courage, and determination that the Creator has blessed me with. I have to be the example they came into this world to learn from. I have my family and my closest friends to thank for helping me realize and appreciate this.
Deep depression and the pain and stress of dealing with life’s profound challenges can be paralyzing if we aren’t careful. That has been my reality for the last year directly, and for a number of years more generally. I am clear about it now, however. I hope some of these reflections will help me, as well as some of you, or others you are close to, think more reflectively about how to respond to these kinds of life dynamics.
African American Men and Fathers
I don’t know many (or any) African American men that are fully open and honest about their feelings, fears insecurities and personal struggles. I have seen too many of us suffer as a result. I have seen both directly and indirectly the painful and costly impact of suicide, unnatural disease, premature death, depression, rage, anger and frustration on our families and our community. Contrary to popular perceptions presented in the media or in the “professional literature,” I believe so much of this comes not from a lack of care, concern, compassion and love for our families and community, but precisely an inability to show that care, concern, compassion and love in ways that feel welcomed and affirming.
I would like to add my voice to the chorus of African American men and women, past and present, that have cried out for African American men to wake up and reconnect with who we truly are. We have a lot to say, a lot of stories to tell, and a lot of work to do. We have to find healthy and consistent strategies for opening up and giving of ourselves... ways that may be different from what we are used to but still productive, even when painful in the moment. I can tell you, though, that we can get through it. We have to get through it. Our families and communities are depending on us. We must to do better. I know firsthand, as do many of you, what some of the challenges are. I also know firsthand, as do many of you, what some of the possibilities are. African American fathers, husbands, brothers, sons, cousins, uncles and grandfathers we have to get it together.
African American mothers, wives, sisters, daughters, cousins, aunts and grandmothers please find ways to open up the space and place in your hearts for African American men to be what is healthy and natural and necessary. Those of you who are able, teach other young girls and ladies how to do the same. We must continue to learn with and from one another. We are complimentary, and can only do this together. Indeed, there are some relationships that might not work in the immediate sense, but we must still be respectful, loving and compassionate as we create a healthy, life affirming and healing space within which we can interact… and our children can develop.
Our Charge
We have to want a healthy and whole community as badly as our ancestors did. Indeed, we’ve got a lot of work to do. But we can do it, and we can do it in our lifetime. From this moment forward, I ask that you also reflect on what it means to be well, to be present and to be compassionate. Develop strategies in your own life to make this a reality. Reclaim your voice as you continue to walk along life’s path. Speak with courage and conviction, and most importantly through your conduct and your example.
We are our only saviors. We are the legacy of our ancestors. We are the examples for our children. We are the hope of our future generations… our children yet unborn. It’s healing time!
Oronde A. Miller
Executive Director and Founder
Institute for Family and Child Well-Being
The author of this essay, Oronde A. Miller, is the founder and executive director of The Institute for Family and Child Well-Being. Please share any comments and reflections via email at omiller@ifcwb.org.
I’ll share at the outset that writing this essay has been a very different experience for me, compared to the others I have written. This has, by far, been the most difficult essay for me to write. I hope it has even a fraction of the meaning for some of you that it has had for me while writing it.
My Testimony
In this essay, I want to reflect on some dynamics I have been experiencing, at least in a more pronounced way, for the last year or more. I am clear that some of my motive for sharing these experiences is probably selfish. I am certainly hoping that writing about these dynamics helps to free my spirit up a bit. But moreso, I hope that reading this essay will help some of you reflect on and perhaps appreciate the need for us to heal ourselves, our families, and to reach out to those individuals we know are struggling... helping to find that peace that we all seek. We are the only ones we’ve got, so we’ve got to pull it together.
Cancer
The last year has been extremely challenging for me. I have found myself at so many different extremes of life’s emotional spectrum. As many of you know my brother, Khari Miller, has been battling cancer for almost nine years. He was diagnosed with Hodgkins Lymphoma in March of 2000. He has fought valiantly and continues to fight the good fight. The cancer is still present, and continues to spread, but slow enough for Khari to keep living a life of passion, meaning and purpose. I know it’s been extremely difficult for him; and I also know it’s been difficult for others close to him, including myself.
Doctors have called Khari a walking and living miracle, precisely because of how extensively the cancer had spread throughout his body by the time he was diagnosed. The first oncologists that took his case gave him a maximum six months to live, even with the initial advanced chemotherapy and radiation treatments they were prescribing. Within the last eight years he’s been through multiple regimens of chemotherapy and radiation treatments and several experimental cancer treatments. He has also undergone two bone marrow / stem cell transplants, for which I had the honor of being the donor. I am so thankful that he is still with us, and continues to press on.
Relatively recently, I found out that two other individuals that I am close to were diagnosed with cancer. In early 2008 my father was diagnosed with early stages of prostate cancer. After several months of consultation with multiple doctors and a number of prostate cancer survivors, as well as months of careful research and consideration, my father decided to undergo a newly developed laser surgery to have the cancer removed. I am so thankful to report that the surgery was very successful. As far as we know, this was by far a best case scenario for dad and the family.
Also last spring another very close friend and colleague was diagnosed with a challenging case of breast cancer. This past summer she underwent a pair of surgeries, and now continues to undergo regular chemotherapy treatments. She is hanging in there as well, but it continues to be very challenging.
While each of these individuals is very close to my heart, it’s been difficult being completely responsive to each of them and their respective challenges with an open and prayerful heart.
Closer to Home
During this same time period my relationship with another individual, who has certainly been closest to my heart for the past almost ten years, has unraveled at the seams, seemingly at record speed. This particular experience, which really escalated last spring, has been most difficult to cope with and make sense of.
I always thought I was at peace with, or at least in control of, my emotions and reflections on my foster care and adoption experience. I can say very clearly now that this recent and still unfolding experience has evoked some of the most painful and frightening feelings of rejection and abandonment that I have ever been forced to deal with. This experience has exposed many feelings and emotions I honestly never knew existed within me. This experience has touched the core of who I am, spiritually and emotionally, and has challenged many of my assumptions about relationships, marriage and family.
During the last nine months I have experienced pretty concerning night sweats and other body temperature fluctuations, heaviest during the summer and early fall. I simultaneously lost approximately 15-20 pounds. It’s been a rough period, with many highs and lows, moments of hope and despair, as well as some periods of extreme anger, resentment and frustration. Fortunately, I can now see a light of hope and healing off in the distance, and I continue to work through this experience anxiously and prayerfully.
Why am I sharing this?
Now why am I sharing all of this, and particularly in this format? Like I said earlier I am sure some of this is selfish. Writing is a healing exercise for me. Writing is my outlet for personal reflection and expression. Just writing about some of these experiences and dynamics helps me feel better… just getting it off my chest. Acknowledging the pain is liberating.
Moreover, I grew up within the Black church tradition. A big part of that tradition is expressiveness, evidenced in the tradition of testifying. Testifying serves many different purposes. Sometimes we testify because we know what we’ve been through, and we just want to give thanks to the Creator for guiding us through it. Sometimes we testify because what we are going through still hurts, and we just need to acknowledge it so that we can work through it.
I recognize that the totality of my recent experiences has pushed me way past my old comfort zone and has forced me to deal with things that are so painful… fear of being alone, rejection, abandonment and loss; a rigidity in my core values and sensibilities; and very sharp perspectives on the importance of family, relationships and marriage. I wanted to reflect openly on at least some of this, so that maybe even just one other person can benefit from my experience and perhaps find a more peaceful and healing space to live in. This is exactly what I am trying to do right now.
Being Open to Possibilities
For much of my adult life I have frowned on the typical American approach toward therapy and counseling in this “not well” society of ours. I always frowned on it as being culturally out of sync and detached. For the most part I still fundamentally believe that is true about the field. In the last several months, however, I have actually opened myself up to the possible benefits of seeing a counselor. It’s been a productive experience so far. I was afraid for the longest time because all of the people that I knew (among my peers) that had undergone marriage counseling had ended up in a personal space and place that I was afraid of being in. But I was desperate to talk with someone and wanted affirmation that I wasn’t going crazy in my reactions to some of the dynamics I was struggling to make sense of.
I’m still very much in the midst of it, but I want to acknowledge that I was a little off base in my assessment. Counseling is certainly not the answer to the problems we face, but it can be a powerful resource and process for helping us make sense of what we are experiencing. Indeed I still believe the counselor needs to be culturally in sync with you, but if that is the case it can be a powerful experience. It has been and continues to be for me. It really has helped me make sense of my current circumstances, and it has also pushed me to work on and work through some understandable yet still unhealthy aspects of my personality.
I have also come to appreciate some other things as of late. The first is the important reminder that I have been and continue to be blessed beyond measure… “blessed and highly favored” as we tend to say.
I have certainly been directly affected by the experiences of my close friends and family members battling cancer. I am also clear that I am not the one that has to endure the difficult physical challenges presented by surgery, chemotherapy and radiation. Sure it hurts personally to see loved ones struggling against illnesses as serious as these, but the battle they experience is very different. When it’s all said and done, however, all of us share a mutual responsibility to be a support and healing resource for one another along this journey. And let’s be clear that we cannot help others if we are not at least half-way well ourselves. Compassion, with a deep appreciation of the challenges, pain and suffering of other people, can help free us up to experience our own healing. But we have to be present enough to focus on others and not just our own challenges, pain and suffering.
In talking with some of my closest friends I have come to appreciate that when we are struggling through depression or some other life challenges, we are not the only ones affected. As I have tried to work through these challenges in recent months, I have hurt others that are close to me. My style is to retreat and close myself off to others when things get hard. I can even lash out at others that try to get close enough to help. That only creates more pain and hurt for the very people that are closest to us and care about us. It also disconnects us from the real healing work and relationships we have been put in this world to nurture and develop. I am more clear now that the only way we can get through some of our “stuff” is to deal with it straight up and out in the open. To work through it with the very people that are closest to us and care most about us is critical.
What does this all mean?
Now let me tie this together in some kind of coherent way. As I mentioned, writing this essay has been a bit more challenging for me than usual. I also realize that what I am sharing in this essay accounts for why I haven’t even written an essay in over a year. It explains why I have only half-heartedly pursued those relationships, ideas, activities and life goals that are most fulfilling for me. It explains why I haven’t given more of myself to the individuals closest to me.
This, brothers and sisters, isn’t truly living. Unfortunately, however, this is the way many of us walk along life’s path. No longer will this be my story. I appreciate now, more than ever, that my children deserve to see their father live life with the passion, enthusiasm, courage, and determination that the Creator has blessed me with. I have to be the example they came into this world to learn from. I have my family and my closest friends to thank for helping me realize and appreciate this.
Deep depression and the pain and stress of dealing with life’s profound challenges can be paralyzing if we aren’t careful. That has been my reality for the last year directly, and for a number of years more generally. I am clear about it now, however. I hope some of these reflections will help me, as well as some of you, or others you are close to, think more reflectively about how to respond to these kinds of life dynamics.
African American Men and Fathers
I don’t know many (or any) African American men that are fully open and honest about their feelings, fears insecurities and personal struggles. I have seen too many of us suffer as a result. I have seen both directly and indirectly the painful and costly impact of suicide, unnatural disease, premature death, depression, rage, anger and frustration on our families and our community. Contrary to popular perceptions presented in the media or in the “professional literature,” I believe so much of this comes not from a lack of care, concern, compassion and love for our families and community, but precisely an inability to show that care, concern, compassion and love in ways that feel welcomed and affirming.
I would like to add my voice to the chorus of African American men and women, past and present, that have cried out for African American men to wake up and reconnect with who we truly are. We have a lot to say, a lot of stories to tell, and a lot of work to do. We have to find healthy and consistent strategies for opening up and giving of ourselves... ways that may be different from what we are used to but still productive, even when painful in the moment. I can tell you, though, that we can get through it. We have to get through it. Our families and communities are depending on us. We must to do better. I know firsthand, as do many of you, what some of the challenges are. I also know firsthand, as do many of you, what some of the possibilities are. African American fathers, husbands, brothers, sons, cousins, uncles and grandfathers we have to get it together.
African American mothers, wives, sisters, daughters, cousins, aunts and grandmothers please find ways to open up the space and place in your hearts for African American men to be what is healthy and natural and necessary. Those of you who are able, teach other young girls and ladies how to do the same. We must continue to learn with and from one another. We are complimentary, and can only do this together. Indeed, there are some relationships that might not work in the immediate sense, but we must still be respectful, loving and compassionate as we create a healthy, life affirming and healing space within which we can interact… and our children can develop.
Our Charge
We have to want a healthy and whole community as badly as our ancestors did. Indeed, we’ve got a lot of work to do. But we can do it, and we can do it in our lifetime. From this moment forward, I ask that you also reflect on what it means to be well, to be present and to be compassionate. Develop strategies in your own life to make this a reality. Reclaim your voice as you continue to walk along life’s path. Speak with courage and conviction, and most importantly through your conduct and your example.
We are our only saviors. We are the legacy of our ancestors. We are the examples for our children. We are the hope of our future generations… our children yet unborn. It’s healing time!
Oronde A. Miller
Executive Director and Founder
Institute for Family and Child Well-Being
The author of this essay, Oronde A. Miller, is the founder and executive director of The Institute for Family and Child Well-Being. Please share any comments and reflections via email at omiller@ifcwb.org.
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