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Photo by JoNell Lynd, Ft. Collins, CO |
Rita Laws, Ph.D., a former teacher, has degrees in
Secondary Education and psychology. She has co-written five books about special
needs adoption and many magazine and newspaper articles about parenting, Indian
history, and coin and medal collecting. Laws began a term on the CCAC in 2004.
The Citizen’s Coinage Advisory Committee was created pursuant to an Act of
Congress in 2003 to advise the Secretary of the Treasury on theme or design
proposals relating to circulating coinage, bullion coinage, and medals produced
by the United States Mint. A member of the Oklahoma Choctaw tribe, she lives in
Oklahoma with the 3 youngest of her 12 children. Coincidentally, her Choctaw
name “Hina Hanta” has the word “peace” in it. It translates as “Bright Path,” or
“Path of Peace.” As Rita Laws says: When people find out that I have 12 kids of
which 10 are sons, and that for years, as many as six have been teen-agers
simultaneously, they often ask the same four questions. |
• Don’t you know what causes that?
• Are you a saint?
• Are you crazy?
• Are you a Mormon?
The answers are yes, definitely not, I currently meet the legal definition of
sanity, thank-you very much, and no. It’s too bad, really, about the middle
questions. It might have been fun to be known as ‘Saint Crazy.’ Certainly, I’d
answer to ‘Mommy Weirdest.’ But the truth is that for a few people, raising kids
is like eating potato chips. It’s difficult to stop at one.
When as a young adult I found out that tens of thousands of American kids were
in foster care with little or no hope of ever having a forever family, I was
shocked and disgusted. I set out to help change that, as
have many thousands of other Americans in the permanency movement. I believe
that every waiting child in America should and can have the unconditional love
of at least one committed parent. Two is ideal, but I know from personal
experience as a single custodial parent for the last decade that one will do.
My family was created through birth and adoption. After four years of marriage
with no children, the first ten arrived in a span of 11 years. During my third
and final pregnancy, the adoption agency called to tell us that the older child
we had been hoping to adopt was a five-week-old infant with special needs. The
next year, they called with the news that the older daughter we were planning
for was, in fact, a 12-week- old baby boy with special needs. This is how I
found myself the mother of four boys and one girl under the age of six.
The arrival ages of the next five children were six months, eight years, seven
years, three years, and two years. Five years later, my 20th wedding anniversary
present was a surprise divorce. Later, a five-year-old joined the family and
then a 22-year-old. Now I look forward to arrivals of a different but equally
joyous kind: Grandchildren.
My last child, an adult adoption, was a unique joy. Davy, who had briefly been
part of our family at age six, but could not stay due to legal entanglements,
came back into our lives after he was grown. When we discovered that the bonds
were as strong as ever, we went to court and made the relationship legal. The
judge, looking out over a multiracial sea of faces asked Davy if he was sure he
wanted to become a permanent part of such a large family. To his credit, Davy
didn’t hesitate to confirm that he did. The judge then pronounced us mother and
son and there was lots of hugging.