The concept of family in our culture is a funny thing. Family defines our culture, beliefs, and gives us an identity. In a country with a divorce rate of nearly 50% and rampant single parenthood, it can be difficult to define what truly constitutes a family. The ideal of a perfect nuclear family, mom, dad, and 2.7 kids, isn’t a reality for many people. But we’re are often made to feel ashamed if our family doesn’t look like this archetype. It’s uncomfortable for people to talk about their “broken” families, and it’s uncomfortable for others to listen. So what do we do? If we’re told our family is supposed to look one way, and this just isn’t reality, how do we find identity?
For those without solid families, it can feel like they’re alone in the world. My family is one of these unconventional families. My parents had been in the process of divorcing for almost three years when I left for college. Two days into the preseason of my first year collegiate field hockey, one week before all the non-athletes arrived at school, they finalized their divorce and my family was legally and irrevocably split in two. In coming to college, I left my thirteen year old sister to deal with the transition by herself. Despite initial challenges, we all adjusted, and things are okay now. I never really felt too much anger, just disappointment that things went differently than they could have. My family hasn’t been destroyed, just changed. It looks different now, and there are a lot of new things to experience. But sometimes that familial connection is difficult to establish. The sense of belonging is fragmented. So I’ve had to find a new community from which to draw identity. In this era of changing ideas, instability, and transition, in my life and in the wider culture of the West, many are finding family in their friends.
There are many forms that this “family” can take. Terms such as ‘mom-friend’ have become common as we designate peers to fulfill the roles of caretakers and leaders, problem solvers and creators. We create close, blood-bonded communities where none are easily accessible or acceptable. There are benefits to these imagined communities that sometimes could not be found in a ‘traditional’ family. Because everyone comes from different places and different backgrounds, there are many more perspectives at work than just those of the individual two parents. Different world-views are expected and even encouraged, because all are unique and have something to offer. These families exemplify community, teamwork, and fellowship. They support us when we are flustered or mournful, give us advice, encouragement, and love of the sort that can only come from family. We draw on each other for identity and belonging, explaining our own character by relating shared experiences. We celebrate together, rejoice together, mourn together, and survive, together, as an inseparable clan.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my blood-related family very dearly. Though it is uncertain, I’m excited to see what the future will bring. Change will come, but change isn’t always a bad thing. New challenges will allow me to grow and love my family more deeply than before. But I am also so incomparably thankful for my other family, my brothers and sisters from across the globe who are with me every day at school. We also will learn and grow together, deepening in trust and relationship as we pursue our dreams. In the spirit of the season, I will be eternally grateful for my unconventional, quirky, diverse, intelligent, and magnificent family.