Monthly Reflections

Setting the Holiday Table in Complex Times: Nourishing Family Narratives

by April Dinwoodie
TRJ Executive Director

When I was growing up, my mom would always say a beautiful and simple Thanksgiving prayer. Every year, we’d close our eyes, hold hands, and listen to her voice rise and fall. The smell of turkey filled the air, and for a few moments everything felt still. I remember feeling thankful—surrounded by love, warmth, and the familiarity of family.

But I also remember the ache—the quiet wondering. My family of origin was never mentioned among the members of the extended family who were missing and prayed for. I thought of them every year. Were they celebrating too? Did they wonder about me the way I wondered about them?

Now, looking back, I realize that we were closing our eyes in more ways than one. We were closing our eyes to the family that wasn’t there, and to the history of the day itself—the story of this country, the Indigenous lives and legacies that were disrupted, the realities of what was taken and what was lost.

That unspoken tension—the both/and of Thanksgiving—has always lived inside me. The deep thankfulness for what I have, held right alongside the awareness of what’s missing and what must be named.

November and the Table of Truth

As we move into November, which is also National Adoption Awareness Month, the family table takes on even deeper meaning. It becomes a mirror—a place where stories of legacy, history, and belonging meet. For adoptive and especially transracial adoptive families, the holiday table can hold layers of love, difference, and longing all at once.

At Together on the Journey, we know that the table is more than a piece of furniture. It’s a symbol of connection and story. Who gathers around it—and who is missing—tells us a lot about how we understand family.
In my childhood home, we didn’t have words for that complexity, but I felt it deeply. The silence around my family of origin matched the silence around the history of Thanksgiving. Both were wrapped in good intentions, but both left important truths unspoken and left me to navigate the difficulties silently.

This year, instead of closing our eyes, let’s open them together. We can be thankful for the people around us and honest about the people and histories that are missing. We can hold thankfulness and truth at the same table.

Try this:
When it’s time to share what you’re thankful for, add a second invitation:

“What has been hard this year?”

This simple act can open space for honesty, empathy, and connection—reminding everyone that joy and difficulty can live side by side.

Expanding the Story of the Day

For some, Thanksgiving is a treasured family ritual. For others, it’s a reminder of pain and loss. Both truths can coexist. We can be thankful for the love we share while also being mindful of the full story of this day.

Consider how your family names and frames the holiday. Maybe you call it A Day of Thanks and Truth, Harvest Gathering, or simply Family Day. Learn about the Indigenous peoples whose land you live on. Talk about what was taken, not just what was shared. These small shifts don’t erase tradition—they expand it. They help children entrusted to you see that thankfulness and awareness can live together.

Telling the Truth Beautifully

For adopted people, the holidays often carry that same blend of joy and longing. Parents may want to make the day perfect, but what children often need most is honesty, not performance. Sometimes the most loving thing we can do is say out loud what everyone already feels.

Maybe that means lighting a candle for a family of origin. Maybe it’s saying, “We’re thankful for those who can’t be here,” and letting that sentence mean many things. It might even mean sitting in quiet reflection, acknowledging both the family gathered and the family unseen.

Making Space for the Whole Story

Every family has its own rhythm, its own version of the both/and. For some, it’s thankfulness and missing pieces. For others, it’s pride and pain, belonging and uncertainty. The goal isn’t to fix or smooth those feelings—it’s to let them breathe.
When we make room for all of it, we teach our children that they don’t have to choose between being thankful and being honest. They can be both.

Try this:
If something hard comes up during the holiday, take a breath before responding. You don’t need the perfect words.

A simple “I hear you” or “That makes sense” can be enough to open connection and build trust.

A Table of Thankfulness and Truth

When I think back to those moments of my childhood—the prayer, the warmth, the silence—I wish we had found words to hold the fullness of our experience. But now I know that each of us can begin again. We can tell new stories. We can open our eyes. We can hold hands across difference and history and say:

“We are thankful for what we have, and we honor what has been lost.”

That’s the table I want us all to set together now—a table where love and truth sit side by side, and where everyone, past and present, has a place.

Reflection Prompts for Families

What truths about Thanksgiving and adoption have been left unspoken in our home?
Who is at our table—and who is missing?
How can we honor both thankfulness and truth in the way we gather?
What new names, rituals, or stories might reflect our family’s values more fully?

Behind the Mask: The truth about belonging, identity, and the narratives we navigate

by April Dinwoodie

When Hiding Becomes Habit

Throughout my life, I’ve become aware of how naturally I can mask — how easily I learned to protect parts of myself that felt confusing, painful, or “too much.”

As an adopted person, curiosity has always lived right next to fear: curiosity about who I am and where I come from, and fear about what might happen if I asked too many questions or revealed my true emotions of grief and loss.

Connections over the years with what I call the extended family of adoption and foster care — adopted persons, families of origin, adoptive families, folks who experienced foster care, and professionals — have shown me that the stories we’re given about adoption shape what we feel safe to express.

Masking, in that sense, isn’t about pretending; it’s about surviving. It’s about finding ways to belong in a world that may not yet be ready for our full truth.

More Than a Costume

Halloween is a time when masks and costumes take center stage — when it’s acceptable, even celebrated, to play with identity and transformation. But for me, and for many others connected to adoption, masking can be something we’ve practiced far beyond a single night.

We mask our longing for information.
We mask our fear of rejection.
We mask our curiosity about where we come from.
And sometimes, we even mask our pride in who we’ve become.

This month, as many play with costume and disguise, I’m looking more closely at what’s underneath — to honor the complexity, the curiosity, and the courage it takes to live unmasked as an adopted person.

When Curiosity Meets Culture

This season always brings up tension around cultural appropriation and appreciation — about who gets to try on an identity for fun, and who must hide theirs to feel safe. That dynamic feels especially sharp right now, in a climate where race, belonging, and representation are being debated and distorted in real time.

For families formed through transracial and intercountry adoption, October can be a month of reckoning. Costumes that make light of race, ethnicity, or immigration status — whether Blackface, ICE agents, or other caricatures — are not harmless. They are reminders that some people’s lived realities are still seen as entertainment, while others’ humanity is still questioned.

For adoptive parents raising Black and Brown children, this is a time to stay close, pay attention, and prepare. Children notice. They see what is celebrated and what is mocked. They feel when something is off, even if they don’t yet have the words for it.

These moments are opportunities for conversation — about safety, identity, respect, and the difference between imitation and understanding.

For me, unmasking is about giving myself permission to stay curious — even when it’s uncomfortable — and to listen deeply to the stories beneath the surface, in myself and in others. That same curiosity, when modeled by parents, can create the kind of family culture where children feel seen, protected, and proud of who they are — without having to hide behind any mask.

Reflections for Families

What helps me and my child feel safe enough to unmask?
How do we make space for each other to explore and show up as our whole selves?
What stories have we inherited — and which ones are we ready to rewrite together?
How can we model curiosity, empathy, and awareness during this season of masks and make-believe?

Looking Ahead to November

As we move toward National Adoption Awareness Month, let’s reflect on how we can shift from being talked about to being heard from. “Behind the Mask” reminds us that belonging begins with truth — and that every time we unmask, we make it a little easier for someone else to do the same. Listen to the October episode of Calendar Conversations for more. https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/calendar-conversations-a-guide-for-adoptive-parents/id1728489802?i=1000731211477

5 Ways Schools Can Better Support Adopted Students

As we settle into the new school year, many of us are still holding the warmth and wisdom of TRJ Family Camp. For families raising Black and Brown children through adoption, this moment of transition is more than school supplies and bus schedules—it’s about preparing children for systems that may not always fully see or support them.

Across the country, education is shifting. Diversity, equity, inclusion and Belonging (DEIB) initiatives are being rolled back. Inclusive curriculum is under attack. Mental health support is underfunded. These changes affect students and make it even more imperative that parents are ready to advocate for the children entrusted to them through adoption. (Back to School, Plugged In and Present)

For adopted children and teens—especially those in transracial families—school is often the first environment where differences in identity, race, and family structure become visible. A “baby picture” day, a “family tree” assignment, or a question like “Do you look more like your mom or dad?” can land with confusion or emotional activation.

At the same time, schools also hold tremendous possibilities. When educators and parents work together with intention, school can become a place where belonging blooms.

Acknowledgment of All Family Types by Teachers and Administrators
Avoid assumptions. Use inclusive language like “grown-ups,” “caregivers,” or “adults at home” instead of defaulting to “mom and dad.”
→ Parents: If your family structure isn’t represented in class materials, speak up. It matters.
Be Trauma-Informed
Adoption often includes grief, loss, and complexity. Empathy—not avoidance—helps children feel seen and safe.
→ Parents: Prep your child for moments that may surface, and advocate for trauma-aware policies.
Reflect Identity in the Curriculum
Representation matters. All students benefit from books, lessons, and visuals that reflect a full spectrum of identities and family stories.
→ Parents: Lend a book or suggest a story that represents your child’s experience.
Reimagine Assignments
Projects like “Family Trees” or “The Story of Your Name” can unintentionally isolate adopted students.
→ Parents: Partner with teachers early. Offer alternatives or suggest reframes if needed.
Build Trust Through Consistency
Belonging doesn’t happen once—it’s built daily.
→ Parents: Check in often with teachers and staff. Create a feedback loop that centers your child’s well-being.

Why This Matters

When I was a child, school didn’t feel like a space for my full story. I didn’t have affinity groups or adults talking about the complexity of adoption—especially not as a Black or mixed-race person in a white family.

Today, TRJ creates the spaces I never had. And what I see again and again when working in schools, is that these conversations don’t just support adopted students—they benefit all students navigating connections to family. When schools and families create space for identity and belonging, we raise children who feel seen, supported, and celebrated.

Additional Resources

What Teachers Should Know About Adoption - A practical resource for educators looking to better understand the adopted students in their care.
An Urgent Conversation About Education with Cami Anderson - A 2021 podcast episode with points that resonates today.
Follow @JuneinApril on Instagram
Subscribe to the YouTube Channel for videos on race, adoption, and identity.

Together, we are building the schools—and the world—our children deserve.

Back to School, Plugged In and Present

When School Isn’t Just About School Anymore

Across the country, public education is undergoing major shifts. The rollback of DEI initiatives, bans on inclusive curriculum, and political pushback on mental health support aren’t just headlines—they’re realities that directly affect our children.

For parents raising Black and Brown children through adoption—especially in transracial families—this moment calls for something more than good intentions. It calls for presence, participation, and proactive parenting.

The Landscape Has Changed

DEI programs are being cut or rebranded in schools and districts nationwide.
Curriculum bans increasingly target topics like race, gender identity, and historical truth.
Teachers face restrictions on discussing equity, culture, or even acknowledging differences.
Mental health and student support services are underfunded, defunded, or politicized.

This isn’t “business as usual”—and our children feel it.

Why This Matters for Adopted Children

Adopted children, especially those in transracial families, already face unique educational challenges:

Adopted children are nearly twice as likely to have an Individualized Education Plan (IEP) or receive special education services compared to non-adopted peers.¹
Studies show higher rates of school-based behavioral referrals and emotional distress among adopted children, often linked to identity, trauma, and attachment dynamics.²

These outcomes aren’t inevitable—but they are real. And they require us to stay attuned to the evolving educational landscape.

Your Child Is Watching

Black and Brown children—especially those adopted into white families—often carry a deep, intuitive awareness of when they are not being fully seen. Even when they can’t name it, they notice when identity is ignored, erased, or punished.

Silence doesn’t protect them. It isolates them.

Stay Plugged In: 5 Ways to Show Up This School Year

Review what your child is learning—and what they’re not.
Ask how race, identity, heritage, and family structure are addressed in the classroom.
Speak up at school board or PTA meetings.
One calm, clear voice can shift a room. Showing up matters.
Connect with teachers and staff early.
Build trust. Ask how your child is doing socially, emotionally, and culturally—not just academically.
Build a cultural safety net at home.
Make sure books, media, and mentors reflect your child’s identity—even if school doesn’t.
Find or build your people.
Whether it’s a parent group, online forum, or TRJ family circle—community creates confidence and impact.

Together, we can raise children who are not only seen—but celebrated.

With love and solidarity,
The TRJ Team

Together on the Journey: Freedom, Truth & the Power of Connection

TRJ Family Camp 2025 Newsletter Feature
from April Dinwoodie and the TRJ Board of Directors

Every July, the calendar turns our attention to freedom. Fireworks, flags, and family cookouts remind us of independence—but for those of us connected to adoption, freedom carries a deeper, more complex meaning.

At TRJ, we know that freedom doesn’t begin with independence alone. It begins with truth—and the courage to name it. It requires access to origins, permission to grieve, and space to explore identity in all its complexity. It requires support. It requires community. It requires love that tells the truth and makes room for transformation.

That’s why we gather.

At TRJ Family Camp 2025, we will come Together on the Journey—to center truth, celebrate culture, and connect in ways that nurture the full humanity of transracially adopted people and their families.

This year’s theme is more than a title. It’s a promise.
That no child, youth, or parent has to walk this path alone.
That our collective growth will be rooted in honesty, tenderness, and action.
That healing and joy can exist in the same room as grief and complexity.

Our programming is grounded in three pillars—CONNECT, GROW, and THRIVE—with clear goals and practical tools for both parents and children. Whether it’s a parent practicing emotional presence, a teen learning to share their story, or a whole family creating cultural rituals together, camp is a space to deepen connection and rediscover what belonging really means.

This year, we’re honored to welcome three dynamic presenters: Habeebah Rasheed Grimes, Jared Robinson, and Dr. Tony Hynes, whose lived and professional experiences will anchor powerful conversations with families. We’re also thrilled to have Fairy Hawk return to offer reiki and breathwork as a resource for restoration during the weekend. And this year, along with working with the campers, Miss Rachel will also be spending time with parents.

A Special Saturday Event—Open to All

One of our most anticipated moments will take place Saturday, August 2, during our Hair & Identity Celebration, which will be open to the broader Ohio community and virtual guests alike.

This powerful experience will include:

Blended Together Vision & Opening Remarks
Storytelling with Miss Rachel
A Dynamic Panel Conversation
Live “Wash Day” Hair Care Demonstration featuring detangling, styling, and maintenance guidance
Sponsor Highlights & Audience Q&A
Closing Reflections

Whether you’re attending in person or virtually, this event is for parents, professionals, educators, and anyone who wants to better understand the intersection of hair, culture, and identity in transracial adoption. Stay tuned for RSVP details!

This is the work of freedom.
Not the kind that forgets or flattens the past—but the kind that creates a future where adopted people are empowered to know who they are, where they come from, and that they are never alone in the journey.

We are so glad you are here.
Let’s keep walking together.

With heart and solidarity,
April Dinwoodie & the TRJ Board of Directors

Celebrating the Many Hands and Hearts That Hold Us: Part Two — Honoring Fatherhood in Its Many Forms

By April Dinwoodie

This spring, we're offering a two-part series:
Celebrating the Many Hands and Hearts That Hold Us — an exploration of what it means to honor family expansively through the lens of adoption.

As an adopted person — and someone in deep community with others who share this experience — I know firsthand that Father’s Day can be powerful, complicated, and deeply emotional. (read Part One about Mother's Day)

Some years, it filled me with gratitude. Other years, there was a quiet ache — wondering about the man who gave me life and the life I might have had. Even as I loved the father who raised me, there was still a part of me reaching for something... or someone... just out of reach.

That layered experience is not unique to me. It’s woven into the lives of many adopted persons. And no matter how we may feel, the reminders will come — through store displays, school assignments, social media tributes, and advertising campaigns.

In Part Two of our series, we focus on Father’s Day — the emotions it carries, the opportunities it presents, and how adoptive families can hold space for the many hands and hearts that shape a child’s life.

Fathering in Many Forms

For many of us, the word father is layered — and when adoption is part of the story, those layers deepen.

There may be a father of origin whose presence or absence shaped the beginning of a child’s life. There may be a father who raises and nurtures daily. There may be foster dads, grandfathers, mentors, coaches — and even aunties or mothers — who bring fathering energy in ways large and small.

Parenting a child through adoption means embracing the truth of multiple fathering experiences. It means helping children hold both love and grief, gratitude and longing, knowns and unknowns — often all at once.

Father’s Day can be joyful and confusing. It can be a time of celebration and sorrow. And when adoptive parents acknowledge these truths with openness, they offer one of the most powerful gifts: Permission and pathways to be whole.

The Erasure of Fathers — Especially Black Fathers

The truth is: many fathers of origin were not absent — they were excluded. They were pushed out of the narrative or never brought into it to begin with. Some — like my own — didn’t even know we existed.

There are, of course, cases where exclusion is necessary. When a father poses a risk to the child or others, safety must come first. And in adoption, it is often mothers who are positioned — sometimes solely — to decide whether or not to engage fathers. These are deeply personal, emotional, and often complicated decisions.

But far too often, exclusion becomes the default — not because of safety, but because of stigma, assumptions, or systemic failures. And when that happens, children lose access to an important part of their identity.

This erasure is especially common when it comes to Black fathers, who have long been portrayed through distorted, deficit-based lenses — as disengaged, irresponsible, or disposable. These narratives are not just untrue — they are deeply harmful.

We can do better.

Even when direct contact isn’t possible or appropriate, we can make space for dialogue, curiosity, and connection — symbolically, emotionally, historically. We can speak of fathers of origin with humanity and cultural humility. We can, invite in their presence, even if only through stories, reflection, or ritual.

In doing so, we honor the whole child — and the many hands and hearts that helped bring them into this world.

Suggestions for a More Expansive Fathers’ Day

Here are a few ways to expand and deepen your family’s celebration of fatherhood:

1. Name and Honor All Father Figures

Just like we did for Mothers’ Day, take time to name the people who have offered fathering care: fathers of origin, grandfathers, foster dads, coaches, uncles, mentors — even moms or aunties who carry fathering energy.

Speak them into the space.
Example: “I wonder what your father of origin might have been like. I wonder if he liked being outside like you do.”

This act of wondering and naming makes room for reflection, memory, and humanizing fathers.

2. Challenge the Single-Story Narrative

If you're parenting a child through adoption, challenge the idea that one father replaces another. You don’t need to choose between the past and present. Embrace the both/and:
“I’m so honored I get to raise you, and I wonder what parts of your father of origin live in you.”

Honoring one does not diminish the other.

3. Create a Ritual or Symbolic Gesture

Even if the child entrusted to you has no relationship with or knowledge of their father of origin, you can still make space for connection.
Rituals can help hold what is unknown or unresolved.

Plant something. Light a candle. Add a note to a memory box. Include a name or likeness (if known) in a family collage. These small acts of remembrance say:
“All of who you are matters here.”

4. Talk to Schools and Communities Ahead of Time

Just like with Mother’s Day, reach out to the adults in your child’s life — teachers, coaches, clergy — and offer context.

Explain your family’s approach to Father’s Day. Ask them to be mindful of activities that assume a singular, present, or traditional father figure.

It’s not about avoiding the holiday — it’s about preparing for it with intention and care.

Becoming the Bridge

As adoptive parents and caregivers, you are not meant to erase what came before — you are meant to build a bridge to it.

This Father’s Day, honor the many hands and hearts that hold your child. Include your own. Don’t be afraid of complexity — it’s where truth lives.

Traditional celebrations may not always fit your family’s reality — and that’s okay. With open hearts, honest conversations, and a willingness to hold what’s hard, your family can meet this season with connection and grace.

When we honor fatherhood in its many forms, we give our children something powerful:
the right to know themselves fully — and to be loved in all their layers.

Listen to the Calendar Conversations podcast to hear more about this series. And follow April on social media @JuneinApril and on YouTube @April Dinwoodie

Posts Related to Fatherhood, Motherhood and Transracial Adoption

Celebrating the Many Hands and Hearts That Hold Us: Part One – Honoring Motherhood in its Many Forms

By April Dinwoodie

This spring, we're offering a two-part series:
Celebrating the Many Hands and Hearts That Hold Us — an exploration of what it means to honor family expansively through the lens of adoption.

As an adopted person — and someone in deep community with others who share this experience — I know firsthand that Mother’s Day and Father’s Day can be powerful, complicated, and deeply emotional.

Some years, Mother’s Day filled me with joy and gratitude. Other years, there was a quiet ache — a wondering about the woman who gave me life and the life I might have had. Even as I loved the mother who raised me, there was still a part of me reaching for something... or someone... just out of reach. That layered experience is not unique to me. It's woven into the lives of so many adopted persons. No matter how we may feel, the reminders of the day will come through messages from advertisers and people in the world.

In this first part of our series, we focus on Mothers’ Day — the emotions it carries, the opportunities it presents, and how adoptive parents can hold space for the many hands and hearts that are part of a child’s life.

Mothers’ Love — And More Than One

For many humans, the word "mother" is layered. Those layers multiply when adoption is part of the reality. There may be a mother of origin whose love and/or loss shaped the beginning of life. There may be a mother who raises and nurtures day by day. There may be foster mothers, grandmothers, mentors, aunties — so many figures who mother in ways both large and small.

Parenting a child through adoption means embracing the truth of multiple mothering experiences. It means making space for children to hold both love and grief, gratitude and longing, knowns and unknowns — often at the same time.

Mother’s Day can be joyful and confusing. It can be a time of celebration and sadness.

When adoptive parents acknowledge these truths openly — and work toward an authentic, expansive relationship to family — they give their children the greatest gift:
permission to be whole.

Moving Beyond the Traditional

Mother’s Day traditions often promote a narrow, idealized image of family: one mother, one perfect bond. But real life — especially in adoption — is wider, deeper, and more complex.

Not every child feels only happiness on Mother’s Day. Not every parent feels fully secure. And not every family is mother-led. Some families have two dads, one dad, or caregivers whose parenting journeys don't fit traditional categories.

All families — your family — deserve celebration, visibility, and support.

One important element to remember: even if your family has expanded your view of "mother," schools, religious institutions, and the broader world may not have.
It’s important to talk with professionals connected to your child's life — teachers, coaches, mentors — so they understand your family’s structure and values heading into this season.

Takeaways for Mothers’ Day in Adoption

Here are some ways you can expand and deepen your celebration:

1. Honor All Mother Figures

Name and honor mothers of origin, foster mothers, grandmothers, aunties — anyone who has poured love or care into your child's life.
Acknowledge them aloud, even if your child is young or doesn’t yet have words for their feelings.
Even if your family doesn’t include a mother-figure at home, you can still honor those who have mothered along the way.

Example: “I wonder if the mother who was part of your life at the beginning liked flowers too…”

2. Reflect on Your Own Parenting Journey and Feelings About Mothering

Spend time before the holiday exploring your own feelings about mothering and being mothered — or, if you identify as a dad or another caregiver, how you relate to mothering energy.
Ask yourself: What parts of caregiving feel expansive for me? Where do I still need to grow?

Tip: Even a few minutes of reflection or journaling can help you show up more grounded and open.

3. Create a Space for Mixed Emotions

Let children know it’s okay to feel happy, sad, confused, or even angry around Mothers’ Day.
Normalize that missing, wondering about, or even mourning a mother-figure doesn't diminish their love for you.

Example: “It’s okay to love me and miss someone else at the same time. That’s part of our lives.”

4. Build Bridges, Not Barriers

Find ways to stay connected to family of origin — even symbolically. Remember: they are part of your family too.
If direct contact isn’t possible, honor their existence through storytelling, memory-making, or simple rituals.

Example: Light a candle or plant a flower in honor of all the people who are part of your child’s existence.

Becoming the Bridge

As adoptive parents, you are not meant to erase what came before — you are meant to build a bridge to it. You are entrusted with the sacred responsibility of helping the child entrusted to you weave a whole and honest holding of family.

This Mothers’ Day, celebrate expansively. Hold space for the complexity.
Honor the many hands and hearts that shape your child’s life — including your own.

Traditional celebrations may not always fit your family’s ethos perfectly — and that’s okay. With preparation, conversation, and a growth mindset, your family can face the world with pride, connection, and resilience.

When we do this, deeper roots and stronger bonds are formed.

Listen to the Calendar Conversations podcast to hear more about naming and claiming in Adoption. And follow April on social media @JuneinApril and on YouTube @April Dinwoodie

Posts Related to Motherhood and Transracial Adoption

Expanding Identity Through Names

By April Dinwoodie

Names carry weight. They are an introduction, an inheritance, a declaration of who we are—and sometimes, who others hope we’ll become.

How Our Understanding of Names in Adoption Has Grown

For those of us connected to adoption, names often sit at the intersection of identity, relationship, and lived experience. And like so much else in adoption, the way we think about names has changed over time.

In the 1970s, during the height of the closed adoption era, children like me were expected to be a blank slate. Our original names—along with our families of origin—were erased from view, replaced with new names meant to fit neatly into our adoptive families. When I was adopted, my name was changed from June to April. It was standard practice. There was little consideration for what that change might mean for a child’s sense of self, because the dominant belief was that love and a fresh start were enough.

But names aren’t just words. They are ties. They are stories. And even when severed, those ties often tug quietly at the heart.

Today, adoption looks different. Many children come into adoptive families already named. In some cases, families co-create names together. Some names carry deep cultural or familial meaning. Others are offered with reverence for the child’s birth heritage, language, or history.

Still, for many parents, the idea that a child might want to change—or reclaim—a different name can feel uncomfortable, even painful. Naming can feel like a sacred act, a gift. And it is. But that doesn’t mean it’s the only gift a child will need as they grow into their full identity.

I’ve told the story before of a young girl adopted from China by her Jewish American mother. She had a traditionally Jewish name, and over time, she began to ask for something different—something that felt more aligned with how she saw herself and how she wanted to be seen. “People expect a very different person when they hear my name,” she explained. She wasn’t trying to erase her mother’s love. She was trying to make room for her own truth. In the end, together they went about doing all of the paperwork to change the girls name back her Chinese name.

It’s also important to remember that not every name from a child’s past is one they will want to carry forward. For some, a name tied to their family of origin may activate trauma or bring up painful memories of disrupted attachment, neglect, or abuse. A name might echo voices they’ve tried to forget or experiences they are still trying to heal from. This is especially true for children whose early life experiences include loss, instability, or harm.

Children Deserve the Freedom to Redefine Themselves

This, too, must be held with compassion. Children deserve the freedom to redefine themselves—not just in celebration of their roots, but also in the healing from their wounds. Whether a child wants to reclaim a name from their past or release it altogether, what matters most is that we meet them with understanding and openness. They may be navigating a complex emotional terrain, and they need the support of family and community to feel safe doing so.

And in today’s digital world, that exploration can take many forms. Social media has given young people tools to try on names and identities—screen names, @ handles, chosen names—without permanence. For adopted persons, this can be a powerful, low-risk way to experiment with identity and discover what feels right.

As adults—especially those parenting adopted children—we must hold space for all of this: the grief, the curiosity, the creativity, and the reclamation. We can honor the names we gave with love and honor our child’s right to question, change, or expand that name as part of their journey.

Here are a few prompts to support your reflections this month: (more in post, April Exploring: What’s in a Name?)

What stories or significance are tied to my child’s name(s), and how can I honor those meanings?
How can I support my child in exploring or redefining their identity through names or self-expression?
In what ways do names in our family reflect culture, connection, or history?
Am I prepared to hear and hold the full story my child may carry about their name—including parts that are hard to hear?

Names are not just about who a child is to us. They are about who a child is to themselves—and to the world.

Let’s meet children where they are, with open hearts, ready to listen to the names they carry… and the ones they may one day choose.

Together on the journey,
April Dinwoodie, Executive Director

Posts Related to Names and Adoption

Reclaiming Our Family Narrative: Setting Boundaries & Building Belonging

By April Dinwoodie

Transracial adoptive families represent diversity in a world that is constantly observing—even while professing, it doesn't “see color.” This reality makes it imperative that transracially adopted children are protected from the micro and macro aggressions they face by parents setting intentional, empowering boundaries. As a parent navigating the winding roads of adoption and identity, I've learned that fostering belonging begins with establishing clear, non-negotiable limits on what we accept from others.

Defining Our Space in a Noisy World

Every day, invasive questions and offhand assumptions challenge our privacy and personal truth. When strangers ask, “Where does your child really come from?” or imply that our family doesn’t quite “fit", it’s easy to feel exposed. However, these moments are opportunities to set boundaries, advocate for our narrative, and remind the world that our story is rich, complex, and not for public consumption. Responding with clarity and calm is an act of self-care and a declaration: our family is defined by us.

Creating Foundations of Belonging

Building belonging starts at home. It means having difficult, honest conversations with our children about their adoption, heritage, and the unique tapestry of identities that form who they are. As a parent, I ask myself:

What age-appropriate conversations can I have about their roots and identity?
How can I create an environment where my child feels unconditionally accepted?
What steps can I take to build a community that celebrates our unique family?

By preparing intentionally—establishing clear boundaries with those who may undermine our story—we create the conditions where children can explore and embrace every aspect of who they are. Within this thoughtful, structured environment, adopted persons can find the belonging they need and deserve.

Advocating for Our Truth in Public

Public perception often simplifies our stories. As parents, we must choose when to engage. It's okay to not answer invasive questions. By reclaiming control of our narrative, we teach our children that our family defines its own story.

Moving Forward Together

Parenting in a transracial family is challenging, requiring courage and compassion. We must educate ourselves, support each other, and stand firm in our belief that our family is beautiful and complete. Let's build communities that celebrate our diversity, ensuring our children experience a sense of belonging that honors every part of them. By reclaiming our narrative, we transform invasive assumptions into opportunities for growth and belonging.

2025 Family Camp Theme Announcement:

A Message from the TRJ Board of Directors and Executive Director

At the intersection of Black History Month and a month when we celebrate love, we are reminded of the power of community, resilience, and the bonds that sustain us on our journeys. This year, those values feel more urgent than ever and why we are thrilled to announce our 2025 camp theme: Together on the Journey: Community, Empowerment, & Joy.

These words embody the heart of our mission—bringing transracially adopted children and their families together in a space of connection, learning, and growth. Each year, TRJ works to create a place where no one walks alone, where identity is celebrated, and where love is the foundation of everything we do.

It may feel like camp is a long way off, but it will be here before we know it! We are already preparing to welcome you back to Ohio University, where laughter will fill the air, friendships will deepen, and meaningful conversations will take place. Registration will open in March and we cannot wait to see both familiar and new faces join us on this incredible journey. As always, our theme will come to life with the help of our amazing Camp Co-Directors Mary and Karen along with our counselors, presenters and special guests.

Honoring Black history helps us celebrate the children entrusted to us through adoption and helps ensure a strong future. Doing this requires deep work to understand racial identity and belonging within a world that does not see the complexities of family separation and trauma. By committing to this work, we ensure that transracially adopted children are protected, seen, and valued for all that they are.

When we commit to this lifelong journey, we create the conditions for children to grow with confidence, cultural pride, and an unshakable sense of belonging. No matter how cold the climate may feel outside, TRJ is here to wrap you in warmth, understanding, and the unshakable knowledge that together the journey can be better and brighter.

We look forward to walking this journey with you. More on camp very soon! Until then, save the dates - July 30th- August 3rd.

Together, we’ll grow.

Together, we’ll heal.

Together, we’ll thrive.

With Love,
The TRJ Board of Directors & Executive Director