THE LAST FOUR GENERATION PHOTOGRAPH

Portrait I painted of my father.

In an earlier piece [or chapter] I wrote about my family’s tradition of taking the four generation photo.  Almost as soon as I was born a four generation photo was taken.  In the photo was my great grandfather, Luther Norman, my grandfather, Bill Norman, my father, Richard Norman Sr, and me, baby Richard Norman Jr.

Every time the four generation people were in the same place at the same time a four generation photo was taken.  They did not just take a picture of any member that represented their generation.  For example, there was no photo of the oldest great grandmother, grandmother, mother, and daughter.  The focus was on the oldest son of an oldest son and his oldest son, and ending with me, an oldest son.  It was a little like we were the world’s most disregarded royalty.

During my time as the Putnam City President, my grandparents were approaching a major wedding anniversary, it may have been their 60th wedding anniversary.  A family reunion celebration was organized.  When the day arrived Kathie and Ryan and I drove down to Waco, Texas to attend the event.  I had a good time at the event.  It turned out to be the last time I was around my four brothers and sister for almost 20 years.

As the event was about to wind down, the photos were taken.  This time someone had actually hired a professional photographer and this event seemed a little like a sixty year old echo of my grandparents wedding.

Brothers and sister photos were taken with my dad, uncle Bert, and Aunt Pat.

Pictures of the happy married couple, my grandparents.

My great grandfather was dead but this turned out to be the first time, since my great grandfather had died that a new Four Generations Photo could be taken.  At this event we had my grandfather, Bill Norman, my father, Richard, me, tex [I’d legally changed my name by this point], and my son, Ryan.

I’ve never made a secret that Ryan is adopted.  In that training session we had two weeks before taking Ryan into our home, we were told that it was better to just talk about the adoption in front of the child.  Talk about adoption in a matter-of-fact manner, that there are two ways to become part of a family.  One way is to be born into the family, of course, but the other way is to be brought into the family, like through marriage, or adoption.  So Ryan was the oldest son of an oldest son, me, but he was adopted.

Throughout Ryan’s infancy my mother made off putting remarks about Ryan.

The first time my mother saw Ryan she said, “He is so dark, and Oriental looking.”

We came to visit one Christmas, and my sister was pregnant with her first child, Jody.  We were all sitting together, and my mother hugged my sister Carol and said, “I can’t wait until we have our first REAL Norman grandchild.”  [The emphases on the word REAL is mine.  You could not tell when she said it, if it was in capital letters or not.]

I was steamed about these attitudes.  I felt like my parents, especially my mother, were not accepting an adopted child as a full member of the Norman family.  There was also a subtle racial aversion to Ryan, who was half Japanese.

Racism has long been a spreading cancer within my family.  When my sister got engaged to her husband, Ron Guzman, my father wrote me a letter that included the phrase, “Your beautiful blond haired sister is engaged to a Mexican with a withered hand.”

All these negative vibes I was getting from my parents about my son were tolerated, but I was unhappy about it.  Then, during that picture taking session the proverbial “last straw” occurred.

Clearly, my mother was in charge of the picture taking.  She wasn’t the photographer, they had a professional photographer for that, but she was the one calling the groups one, by one, to the area where they were to be photographed.  I could see that my mother had a list, that the picture combinations to be taken had been discussed, and upon agreement, a list was made.  Professional photographers are expensive and the goal was not to forget anyone, and to not take more pictures than were needed, given the cost.

Knowing that the list of TO BE PHOTOGRAPHED was hashed out with other prominent family members, that the list of TO BE PHOTOGRAPHED was a discussed, debated, premeditated list, made what happened even more upsetting to me.

I had already been in a couple of group shots:  the grand children, the Richard Norman family.  Then my mother called for the Four Generation Photo.  I started to stand and was preparing to get Ryan and move to the TO BE PHOTOGRAPHED area, but my mother called to the focal area, my grandfather, Bill, my father, Richard, my oldest brother [though 6 years younger than me] Tim, and Tim’s son Nicholas.

I was confused.  How come Tim and his son were replacing me and my son?

Let me make this clear:  my growing anger was not being excluded from a photo.  My rage was over what was being signaled by cutting me and my son out of the photo.  I was the oldest son, and Ryan was the oldest grandchild, and he was in the position of being the oldest son, of an oldest son.

I asked some family members why this was happening.  I was told that the night before when my father mother, and aunt Pat were discussing what pictures were to be taken, my mother said the Four Generation Photo should included my grandfather Bill, my father Richard, and then the pattern should be altered to the second oldest son, Tim, and his oldest Son Nicholas.  I was told that the rationale was that while Tim was not an oldest son, if they included me, they would have to either include Ryan in the photo, or exclude Ryan and substitute Nicholas.  The thinking was that since Ryan was adopted and Oriental, that the photo should included only bloodline males.

My son was the reason we were excluded from the Four Generation Photo and while all my family was complicit in this racial shunning, my mother turned out to be the primary advocate of excluding Ryan from the picture.

I later learned that my brother Tim had asked about having the picture taken to include himself, and his son.  It may have been that he too felt Nicholas was the preferred child and the real oldest grandson, since he was the product of coitus.  Maybe he just wanted the picture for his photo album.  Perhaps, to give Tim the picture he wanted, they had to exclude me and Ryan, because, remember, the photos were by a pro and therefore the photos were expensive.

I was pretty damn sure that if Ryan had been the product of intercourse instead of adoption that that Four Generation Photo would have included Ryan.

When this slight was clear to me.  It was obvious that this was not a slip up, not a mistake, not some unfortunate oversight.  The snub was premeditated.  I did not know how many family members were complicit in the decision but my mother was apart of this excluding action, my father was there and did not object, my grandparents probably knew, though I can’t be sure about that.  I was told that my aunt Pat voiced concern and asked “How is tex going to react to this?”

I was told my mother said something like, “It won't matter to tex.  He knows his child is adopted and not a true Norman.”  

Someone who claims to have been present told me that my mother was pushing this change in the Four Generation Photo and she insisted that the Four Generation Photo be taken the way it was taken.

I gathered this much information while the photos were still being taken.  I got my wife and Ryan and without saying bye to anyone we drove back to Oklahoma City.

I mailed a letter to my parents that said I was divorcing them as my parents.  I told them that they would never see my son Ryan again.  I explained what I believe was communicated to Ryan and Ryan’s parents [me and Kathie] by changing the pattern of the Four Generations Photo.  I reminded my mother her of words that she was excited to get the first Real Grandchild meaning my sister’s first child Richard.

We argued a little.  I took a couple of phone calls where I made it clear that they were doing things to indicate Ryan was not a full fledged member of the family.  I added other insults that have come to me through my parents.  When I signed my second teaching contract at Butner Schools I was excited.  I was going to get another year of income.  I called my parents to tell them this exciting news that I’d been rehired when Butner School did not have to rehire me.

My father’s first words were, “Oh, no.  I thought you had more ambition than that.”

I remembered all the times my parents had lashed me with a belt, called me idiot, and stupid knot head.”  I remembered when I was 15 I was painting a pretty large copy of Picasso’s Blue period painting of an old man with a guitar.  While painting my father came in, he told me the picture was great, that when I finished it he would put a $100 frame on it.  Once the picture was finished, the picture was never framed.  When I asked my father why he never framed the painting he said, “I thought it was going to turn out better than it did.”

My father could have said, “I wish I could frame the painting, but money is so tight, I just can’t afford to pay for the frame.”  I’d have accepted that answer, but saying, “I thought it was going to turn out better than it did,” was just one more slap in a face that had been slapped silly for years and years.

I remember, after I had painted a dozen new works, my father came for a visit.  I arranged my paintings like a museum around the room. My father walked slowly around looking at all my paintings.  His first words to me were, "Have you ever thought of taking some Life Drawing classes?"  There were no compliments, just, "Have you ever thought of taking some Life Drawing classes?" 

Eventually I changed my phone number.  When I got letters from my parents I drew across my address and wrote the words:  RETURN TO SENDER.  I gave my parents a chance to say, "I'm sorry," but they never did.  My mother died without ever admitting any wrong at all about that snub of my son.  I had difficulty forgiving someone who did not ask to be forgiven.  My father is still alive, but he has never said he was sorry.  No one in the family has said they were sorry.

I kept Ryan away from his grandparents until he was graduating from high school.  At that point we were living in Florida, my parents had moved about a hour away from us, in Florida, so I finally relented and invited them to attend Ryan's graduation from high school.  He was a sort of co-valedictorian at that event.

As I dance with my regrets this was another of my actions that I regret.  Well, I sort of regret it.  In my mind I was saying, ‘I am not going to subject my son to the poison that comes from my parents. I felt like ever chance my parents got they put me down, insulted me, pointed out my every flaw.  I grew up hating myself, questioning myself, feeling like I was a fuckin’ loser, and I was not going to have anyone with the power of family put down my child.”

The part I regret was not keeping Ryan away from my parents, but, by doing that, I kept Ryan away from his cousins.

Of course members of my family see it differently.  Here is one reaction from my brother Tim:

Tex,

Some correction on the anniversary I feel I need to address.  I can't say that mom didn't have any input into the "four generation picture," I don't' know about that and perhaps she did.  But if it did, that conversation did not happen the night before, because mom and dad weren't at Pat's the night before. I don't know where they stayed that night but it wasn't at Pat's. Pat had asked my family to stay with them and we were there that night.  I didn't hear that conversation between Pat and Sue either, but Sue maintains that she asked Pat about having a "four generation picture" made for us and that we would gladly pay for it.  As I understand it she told Sue that we wouldn't need to pay for it because that was the very picture that would be taken and she said that her and her mom (grandmother) had discussed it already and decided on that picture.  This event was completely planned and organized by Pat.  She hired the photographer, she planned the meal and picked the location, and she had the final word on the photos that were taken.  If mom had requested that picture be taken that way, and Sue and I offered to pay for that one picture, then why didn't Pat see our offer as a way to have both pictures taken? The expense would not be an issue since we would have paid for that extra picture.  I was concerned that night when Sue told me about the plan for the pictures and looking back I should have gone and talked to Pat about it that night, but I didn't. Maybe I didn't have enough backbone to do something, but I was concerned about it the night before. The next day when I was called to get the picture taken, I remember that it was Pat that was calling the different people together for the photos and not mom. In fact, I remember that once I was called, I went looking for mom and found her and told her they were about to take that 4 generation picture and were excluding Tex and Ryan from it and putting myself and Nicholas in it. Mom was getting things ready for the reception, in fact while I was talking to her about what was going on, she was ladling punch into cups and setting them on the table, she was not calling people for pictures.  When I told her what was happening she said told me that I would have to take that up with Pat, that she had nothing to do with what pictures were being taken.  These are the things I know for sure.  Maybe at some point mom made such a request but from my perspective it sure didn't seem that way. By the way she responded to me when I told her what was going on it sounded from her tone more like she may have had a conversation about the pictures but didn't get her way.

On another note regarding this memoir. I thought you were going to send me a copy of this memoir, more like a personal private copy, but for some reason you have put it on Facebook. Did something change?  I'm a bit concerned because dad is on Facebook and very well might read this blog and I thought you told me you didn't want him to read it. I don't know that he has or hasn't but I know he could.

To be honest, this part of your story, hurts a bit, because of the errors I see. I know your perspective is different and mine as well, but what I don't know first hand I tried not to state as fact, but what I do know for sure, these are the things that I know differ from your story.

Personally from the time of that event onward I have always blamed what happened on Pat.  She was in charge and could have taken more than one 4G picture, especially when she was offered a financial solution that would have taken care of both sets of pictures.

I have thought a long time about what to say here and I have tried to stay to the facts as I remember them.

Grace and peace,

Tim

Here is my brother Jim's reaction to my telling the story of the four generation picture:

. . . when you truely forgive someone, you forget it. That is not to say that you pretend things didn't happen, but you don't dewel on those things, and you don't keep bringing them up. 

    If I wrote my life story, I would try to skip most of the bad, because I don't see how the bad helps anyone. I would think telling Ryan all this bad stuff would make him not want to know his extended family. Everyone should get to find out for themselves if they like someone or not. 

  We probably did have different parents, I like to think that they learn from their mistakes as well as I do. 

     I have to go now, Love....Jim

Years later, when I went to my mother’s memorial, I watched Ryan’s cousins as they wept over the death of my mother, and hugging one another.  It was clear those cousins shared a lot of experiences and they felt a connection of love and history.  My actions cut Ryan out of having a deep meaningful connection to his cousins.  Ryan might feel connected to me and his mother, but I don’t think he feels much of a connection with anyone else in my family, and I blame that on my actions to cut my family off from My Parents.

One good side to this divorce of my parents was that I no longer felt an obligation to be kind to the church of Christ.  My contention that the church of Christ made people mean, is NOT a Fair Characterization of all church of Christers, but if you knew my parents the way I knew them, it sure seemed like their church beliefs were connected to their meanness.