Posts Tagged Under Dawn Yun
Blog news
For the next few months, we’re trying something new at the Writing Mamas website. Our founder, Dawn Yun, will hand off the duties of editing and posting blogs to three salon members. I’ll serve in the position in January, Claire Hennessey in February, and Li Miao Lovett in March.
I’m pleased to be able to give back something to the group that has given so much to me. When I joined some five years ago, I knew that I had a story to tell—a behind-the-scenes account of my daughter’s adoption from Guatemala—but I lacked the discipline and skill to tell it. Where to start?
“Just write 250 words,” Dawn said at the first Sunday night meeting I attended. “One page.”
By Jessica O'DwyerThe DNA of Love
I’ve had the crud for more than a month now. It’s become a way of life.
Headache. Tummy torment. Vomit. A valley of frogs in my throat that gives me a hint of what I might sound like if I were to undergo sexual reassignment surgery.
Miraculously it has not affected my husband. He is Superman fighting off illness in a single bound. Son Jay who was always claiming to have some exotic disease when he was younger has grown out of that stage. Now he prefers to go into extraordinary detail about medical diseases in all of their gross glory.
By Dawn YunHow Sculpture Crafted My Family
Just as one can be drawn to another in an electric way, a piece of sculpture had that same effect on me. It was African modern consisting of a father, mother and child in a circle of dance. Tall and sturdy, the stone thousands of years old in a palette colored mustard, cumin, black, white and gray.
Though pricey, I had to have it. I collected large, abstract paintings. This was my first sculpture.
When art speaks to you then you need to answer its call. The piece represented what I wanted most: my own family. I wanted to fall in love with a wonderful man and have his children. Together, I would create a new family. Continue… »
By Dawn YunA Scary Word Comes Between a Family
I had just returned from our first writing salon of the year. I listened to Jay complain about the unfairness of algebra homework, while Mimi held onto my leg as I tried to walk down the hall.
She asked if she could sit in my lap and I said of course. Mimi hesitated, than leapt onto me. I wondered why she thought before acting.
Mimi felt heavier. I tried to put my chin above her head, but it didn’t fit.
By Dawn YunChina, Get Your Adoption Shit Together
When you think about it – China has always been an anomaly.
A power-hungry, deeply insecure and insanely controlling government that actually cared enough about their parent-less children to give them to those who deeply longed to be their parents.
Not anymore.
Now the government is saying that with some sixty-five hundred Chinese children adopted annually, they are running out of babies and kids to give away.
By adminSmart-Ass Kids With Attitude Need Gratitude
Why is it so difficult to get a child to go to bed?
It’s always one more thing. Okay, I’ll go to bed if I can just watch this show. Just ten more minutes. Is that more than fifteen minutes?
The adorable thing. In the midst of a major blowout, she always says something naïve and cute and my heart melts.
“No! NOW!” I scream. She relents. Well, actually, she has no choice. I’ve turned off the TV and hidden the remote.
By adminHow A School Field Trip Got Tripped Up
With four high-octane children and a husband often away on business, my mother never had the energy to go on field trips with me when I was in school. So for my daughter’s first kindergarten trip – I wanted to be there to share this new experience.
I said I would drive to Muir Woods and could chaperone another child. Once there, my daughter, Mimi, darted ahead to her friend, Annali, and her mother, Sherry, while my charge, Aimee, lagged behind, as did Sherry’s chaperoned child, Lizzie.
“Go ahead,” I yelled to Sherry. “We’ll catch right up with you.”
By adminReflections on Mothers and Daughters of Different Colors
My daughter dragged me into her classroom. She wanted to show me a drawing she had made of herself.
While we often joke that her name is Mimi, for a reason, her drawing was simple and devoid of conceit.
My daughter is multi-racial. She is Chinese, Korean, Hawaiian, Austrian, Russian, Jewish and Methodist.
Every mother thinks her child is beautiful. I’m no exception. But I believe it because I’ve had enough people tell me that she is exotic, attractive, tall, and thin, with perfect skin.
By adminThe First Day of School — A Success!!!
The morning began with my daughter, Mimi, telling me that she did NOT want to go to school.
As this was her first day – so far not so good.
Then she wanted to know if she could play her Nintendo DS.
By adminGone Daddy, Gone
How I wanted to be a hippie.
All my friends had teenage siblings with hair parted in the middle that reached halfway down their backs, and rebellious attitudes that extended even deeper.
A tween, the closest I came to being hip was covering my walls with DayGlo posters that said, love, peace and happiness.
This was 1968. The country was changing. We were losing the Vietnam War. There was one hope. Bobby Kennedy. He was running for president, and Bobby was going to save us.
By admin