I'm reading a new book to my students about a middle child (Antonia) who is convinced that she's adopted because she has dark hair, skin, and eyes, while her sisters are both blue-eyed blondes. Antonia tells everyone at school that she's adopted and someday her "real" parents will come to rescue her from this family she's living with, because she obviously doesn't fit in.
While reading this book aloud, I began to realize that I was the older sister - the blue-eyed blonde with a younger brother who looked very similar to me. Probably it wasn't very nice of us to tell our middle brother that he was adopted because of his darker hair, skin, and eyes. We probably shouldn't have asked him to produce pictures of his birth. And we probably shouldn't have tape-recorded his rantings and ravings as he yelled at us about this adoption scheme.
And so, Jared, I'm sorry that we caused you such strife when we were kids. And I'm sorry that you didn't have a "real" family to come and rescue you from us. But now that we're all grown up, it does make for a good story, doesn't it?
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