🗣 Stunning Video: Is “hacking” a gas pump a thing❓

Is Florida the only state where an everyday dad can “hack” a gas pump to get gas? [WSW Logo]( [Divider] A note from the Editor: Wall Street Wizardry is dedicated to providing readers like you with unique opportunities. The message below from one of our business associates is one we believe you should take a serious look at. [divider] It spread Anglo-European culture across the nation and caused trade to flourish, but the story of the Chinese labourers who built the track has largely been forgotten. "You can almost feel the pain it took," said Roland Hsu, standing inside the train tunnels along Donner Summit in California's Sierra Nevada mountains. Jagged and bumpy, the walls of the tunnel hardly resemble underpasses made by modern-day machinery. Instead, in the 1860s, teams of Chinese labourers blasted through the granite and painstakingly hand-chiselled 15 shafts through the Sierra Nevada so that the first transcontinental railroad could whisk passengers 1,800 miles from Sacramento, California, to Omaha, Nebraska, cutting travel times from six months to just six days and forever transforming the nation. "It took four men to hold a big iron bar to manually drill a hole into the granite," said Hsu, director of research for Stanford's Chinese Railroad Workers in North America Project (CRWNAP), which seeks to shed more light on the experiences of Chinese railroad workers. "A fifth man would pound it with a sledgehammer. Then they would rotate the bar a quarter turn and pound it again, and so on. This was how they drilled the hole to then pack the black powder, light it and run. There were no hydraulics." This strenuous construction process meant that workers only cleared inches a day; it took two and a half years to bore through the nearly 1,700ft-long tunnel at Donner Summit. Look closely, Hsu said, and "you can still see the drill marks". It took Chinese workers more than two years to hand-chisel the 1,700ft-long tunnel at Donner Summit (Credit: yhelfman/Getty Images) It took Chinese workers more than two years to hand-chisel the 1,700ft-long tunnel at Donner Summit (Credit: yhelfman/Getty Images) This monumental engineering feat had massive effects for the US. It caused trade to flourish, and by 1880, the railroad was moving $50m worth of freight each year. As new towns sprung up along the rail line, it changed where Americans lived, spurred westward expansion and made travel more affordable. But the project also devastated forests, displaced many Native American tribes and rapidly expanded Anglo-European influence across the country. And it came at a heavy cost: an estimated 1,200 Chinese labourers died during the six-year construction, and those that survived endured racial discrimination and threats. Today, Amtrak's Zephyr train still chugs along much of the most arduous portions made by Chinese workers more than 150 years ago. Climbing through the Sierra Nevada mountains, the trip offers expansive views of snow-capped peaks and swaths of towering pine and fir trees. (The rest of the line, connecting the San Francisco Bay Area and Chicago, runs on a different route forged after the original Transcontinental railroad.) It was the greatest engineering enterprise of the 19th Century It's also possible to get a closer look at the Chinese labourers' work on foot. Near the Tahoe National Forest, along Donner Pass Road, a plaque calls attention to the "China Wall", a 75ft retaining wall that still firmly holds the dirt above it in place today so that landslides didn't bury the track. Called an "engineering marvel" by the Truckee-Donner Historical Society, which installed the plaque, the wall was constructed by Chinese "master builders" who made it by stacking stones, one on top of the other, without any cement or mortar. Just above the wall is a section of the railroad that is no longer in use but is accessible to intrepid hikers. The tracks have been removed, and the path is now an unmarked trail. More than 7,000ft in elevation, it opens up to picturesque views of Donner Lake in the distance. It's here that hikers can walk through a series of tunnels, including the nearly 1,700ft-long Tunnel No 6 – the longest of the 15 tunnels bored through the mountains – along with snow sheds that were built to protect the tracks. The 75ft "China Wall" still holds the surrounding earth in place to protect the track (Credit: Ellen Lee) The 75ft "China Wall" still holds the surrounding earth in place to protect the track (Credit: Ellen Lee) It feels eerie – and yes, painful – to stand at the entrance of one of the tunnels and see the small shaft of sunlight at the other end, knowing not only how difficult it was to carve that opening, but also how poorly the Chinese labourers were treated. At one point, in an effort to speed up construction, they worked around the clock, each crew shrouded in darkness for hours at a time. These structures now stand as a testament to their sweat and sacrifice. They also reflect a legacy that was long erased from US history. But with the recent rise in anti-Asian hate in the US, there has been a renewed push – including establishing the first national Asian Pacific American museum and passing new laws in Illinois, New Jersey and other states to teach Asian American and Pacific Islander history to school-aged students – to recognise the role that Chinese labourers had in completing such a monumental feat. "It was the greatest engineering enterprise of the 19th Century," said Connie Young Yu, a historian whose great-grandfather was one of the Chinese railroad workers. "And to think it would be the Chinese who would build the tracks that would unite the states by rail." Chinese labourers were never intended to build the US' greatest railroad. The Central Pacific Railroad (CPRR) and the Union Pacific Railroad had been tasked by Congress to build a railway to connect the country. The CPRR, however, couldn't hire enough white workers at the time, as many of them left for better-paying opportunities in the mines. Chinese labourers made up 90% of the CPRR's workforce (Credit: North Wind Picture Archives/Alamy) Chinese labourers made up 90% of the CPRR's workforce (Credit: North Wind Picture Archives/Alamy) In 1864, the CPRR began hiring Chinese workers in a desperate bid to meet its deadline. Many of the early Chinese workers were already in California, drawn by the Gold Rush during the late 1840s and early 1850s. Still more were recruited from China, with promises of steady work and pay. Ultimately, an estimated 20,000 Chinese toiled on the railroad, making up to 90% of the CPRR's workforce, according to the CRWNAP. From the east, the Union Pacific Railroad had begun building westward. The CPRR's portion of the project was unquestionably more difficult, as their tracks had to pass through the mighty Sierra Nevada – a mountain range that peaks at more than 14,000ft in elevation – before joining the Union Pacific Railroad's tracks. Establishing that route meant clearing the brush, grading the hill and laying down the tracks, most of which was also done by Chinese labourers. They often worked 10- to 11-hour days, six days a week, and didn't pause during winter, when storms could dump several feet of snow in a day. But despite their commitment, some were only paid half as much as white labourers, according to the CRWNAP. The CPRR also didn't bother keeping track of their identities, referring to them carelessly as a mass of "John Chinamen". After the Transcontinental railroad was completed in 1869, every effort was made to eradicate any and all people of Chinese descent from the United States via local and state laws, mob attacks and lynchings . Some returned to China, though a small number were hired to maintain the railroad. The rest tried to settle in places such as Truckee, California, a major railroad town close to Donner Summit. They established businesses such as laundry services and restaurants. At one point, Chinese immigrants made up to 30-40% of Truckee's population. But it soon became clear they were not welcome. Once the railroad was built, the US tried to remove all people of Chinese descent from the country (Credit: Pictorial Press Ltd/Alamy) More than 70 years after the teenager moved a nation to end school segregation, her statue will replace Civil War Confederate commander Robert E Lee's inside the US Capitol. I In 1951, Barbara Johns stepped onto the stage of Robert Russa Moton High School, her segregated school in Prince Edward County, Virginia. The 16-year-old, who had tricked the student body into attending an unauthorised school assembly, spoke with confidence. "There wasn't any fear," she would later write. "I just thought this is your moment – seize it!" Johns urged her fellow black classmates to join her in protesting conditions at their overcrowded school, which had been built for 180 students but now held more than 475. She called for a student strike to demand a new building. But when she led the parade of teens out of the school's front door, it set off a series of actions that would soon change US history. The protest prompted a lawsuit culminating in the US Supreme Court's 1954 Brown v the Board of Education decision that outlawed racial segregation in public schools. It also had a catastrophic impact at the local level. Prince Edward County decided to close its public schools for several years rather than let black and white children attend classes together. Johns led a student strike in Prince Edward County that paved the way for the Brown v the Board of Education Supreme Court decision (Credit: Larry Bleiberg) Johns led a student strike in Prince Edward County that paved the way for the Brown v the Board of Education Supreme Court decision (Credit: Larry Bleiberg) Johns herself received death threats, forcing her to finish high school out of state. Later, her family's house was burned to the ground. Surprisingly, few people today know Johns' name. The teen never reached the prominence of the civil rights pioneers that followed her, like Rosa Parks, whose refusal to give up her bus seat four years later led to the Montgomery, Alabama, Bus Boycott; or John Lewis, who led protesters across the Edmund Pettus Bridge in the Selma-Montgomery march for voting rights. I truly believe this is the birthplace of the modern civil rights movement But history is beginning to recognise the student leader who died in 1991 at the age of 56. The US Capitol building in Washington DC will soon install a statue of Johns to represent her home state of Virginia. She will replace Robert E Lee, the Civil War commander of the Confederacy. Johns has already been recognised by the state she once challenged. In the capital of Richmond, a sketch of her hangs in the governor's mansion; a statue anchors a civil rights memorial on the Capitol grounds; and the building housing Virginia's Attorney General's offices bears her name. The high school Johns attended is now a museum and a National Historic Landmark (Credit: Larry Bleiberg) The high school Johns attended is now a museum and a National Historic Landmark (Credit: Larry Bleiberg) In Johns' hometown of Farmville, the high school she attended now operates as a museum, and is recognised as a National Historic Landmark. Today, visitors can watch a film about Johns in the auditorium where she urged her classmates to action. It has been restored to its original condition, displaying a 48-star US flag, representing the number of states in the nation in 1951. Other exhibits document the substandard conditions students faced, the walkout, the court cases that challenged segregation and the local decision to close the schools. "I truly believe this is the birthplace of the modern civil rights movement," said Cameron Patterson, the museum's executive director. He said that most people's understanding of the era centres around Dr Martin Luther King Jr. "I don't think there's anything wrong with that, but now we're starting to elevate new stories." And Johns' tale is particularly worthy, he said. The story centres on the 7,000-person town of Farmville, a historical tobacco port on the Appomattox River in south-central Virginia. Exhibits inside the former school highlight the unequal education standards of the day (Credit: Larry Bleiberg) Exhibits inside the former school highlight the unequal education standards of the day (Credit: Larry Bleiberg) The conditions at Johns' segregated school were stark, but hardly unique. Due to overcrowding, some classes met in three tar-paper shacks outside the main building. The rooms were poorly heated by potbellied stoves, and the roofs leaked. The school lacked a gymnasium, science labs and a cafeteria. The textbooks were tattered castoffs from the white high school. Court documents later showed the school board was spending just more than $300 per student at Moton, compared to almost $1,700 per student at the county's all-white high school. "Barbara was upset about the condition of our school, and we all were," her younger sister, Joan Johns Cobbs, who was 12 at the time, told me. Still, she knew nothing about plans for a protest until her sister took the stage of her school on 23 April 1951. "I was seated in the third row, and I was so shocked that I slid down in my seat," recalled Cobbs, now 84. "I was petrified. I knew there would be consequences." Working with a few other students, Johns had lured the principal off campus with a false report of students causing trouble in town. Meanwhile, she distributed a note calling for a schoolwide assembly and requesting that teachers remain in their classrooms. The note was signed "BJ", which happened to be both Johns' initials and those of the principal, Boyd Jones. Rooms in Moton were heated by primitive stoves (Credit: Larry Bleiberg) Rooms in Moton were heated by primitive stoves (Credit: Larry Bleiberg) In the days following the walkout, black residents packed churches for community meetings, and Johns contacted the state chapter of the national civil rights organisation, the Naacp. But the group's attorneys said they weren't interested in pushing for a new segregated school. They convinced the Johns family and others to sign up for a much bigger fight: a federal lawsuit to end school segregation. "It seemed like reaching for the Moon," Johns later wrote. Eventually, the Prince Edward County lawsuit was combined with similar lawsuits from Delaware, South Carolina, Washington DC and Kansas. Because the cases were listed alphabetically, the federal filing was named Brown v Board of Education after the Brown family of Topeka, Kansas. Three years later, the US Supreme Court delivered its bombshell decision outlawing school segregation, stating that the concept of "separate but equal" schools was inherently unequal. The ruling sent shockwaves across the country. But in Prince Edward County, it was devastating. Rather than integrate, white leaders pushed for "massive resistance" against integration for five years before finally choosing to close its schools altogether in 1959. Prince Edward County resisted school integration for five years (Credit: Science History Images/Alamy) Prince Edward County resisted school integration for five years (Credit: Science History Images/Alamy) "I couldn't make any sense of it," recalled Dorothy Lockett Holcomb, a black student who was about to enter fourth grade at the time. "I loved school. It was a traumatic experience." While many white students attended newly formed private schools that received some state funding, the county's 1,800 black students had to scramble. Some parents sent their older children out of town to continue their education. Holcomb joined a handful of other black children in a hastily organised class that met in a church basement miles from her home. Two years later, Holcomb's family rented and pretended to live in a dilapidated shack in a neighbouring county, a subterfuge that let her to attend classes there and eventually graduate high school as salutatorian. But many children, both black and white, fell through the cracks. "I had a fourth-grade classmate who never went back. She never got the opportunity to get an education," said Holcomb. A searchable digital kiosk at the Moton Museum lists the names of the thousands of students affected by the closure. A "light of reconciliation" now glows from Farmville's courthouse bell tower every evening (Credit: Larry Bleiberg) A "light of reconciliation" now glows from Farmville's courthouse bell tower every evening (Credit: Larry Bleiberg) The stalemate drew national attention. As US Attorney General Robert F Kennedy noted in 1963: "Outside of Africa, south of the Sahara, where education is still a difficult challenge, the only places on Earth known not to provide free public education are Communist China; North Vietnam; Sarawak, Singapore; British Honduras – and Prince Edward County, Virginia." Visit these sites to connect with Barbara Johns' story The Robert Russa Moton Museum in Farmville, Virginia, preserves the school where the protest took place. A two-mile Civil Rights Walking Tour of Farmville visits sites tied to the student walkout, and to other city civil rights protests, including sit-ins to desegregate stores. A statue of Johns stands at the centre of the Virginia Civil Rights Memorial in Richmond's Capitol Square. In the near future, the US Capitol in Washington will feature Johns in its Statuary Hall collection. The Brown v. Board of Education National Historical Park in Topeka, Kansas explores the national struggle to end school segregation, including the Farmville student walkout. A year later in 1964, another Supreme Court decision forced the schools to reopen. It would take 44 more years for the county to formally apologise for its actions. In 2008, the county supervisors dedicated a "light of reconciliation" that glows from the courthouse's bell tower every evening. "We grieve for the way lives were forever changed," reads a marker on the lawn, "for the pain that was caused, and for how those locked doors shuttered opportunities and barricaded the dreams our children had for their own lifetimes." Millions more will learn about Johns when her statue is placed in the US Capitol, which is expected in 2023. She'll join the National Statuary Hall Collection, which contains two statues provided by every state. Virginia was represented by George Washington and Lee, until a state-appointed commission of citizens, scholars and historians decided in 2020 to remove the Confederate general and replace him with Johns. The action came after the murder of George Floyd in 2020, when protesters across the country toppled statues honouring the Confederacy. The racial reckoning was pronounced in Virginia, which removed dozens of monuments and memorials, including several towering effigies of generals on horseback. The new statue of a teenage Barbara Johns will send a different message. "She's an appropriate historical figure," said one of the commission members, Colita Fairfax. "She pushed the boundaries of segregation to uncover the horror of racial hatred and indifference." There's now a bare spot in the US Capitol where Lee's statue once stood and where Johns' likeness will soon stand (Credit: Reuters/Alamy) There's now a bare spot in the US Capitol where Lee's statue once stood and where Johns' likeness will soon stand (Credit: Reuters/Alamy) For Johns, the protest was her one moment in the spotlight. She finished her last year of high school living with her uncle in Montgomery, Alabama, and eventually went on to become a school librarian and raise a family in Philadelphia. Cobbs said that although her sister was proud of her actions, she never let the walkout define her life. Barbara, she said, felt inspired by a higher power. "She thought the plan, so to speak, was given to her by God. She pretty much felt it was her duty." Once the railroad was built, the US tried to remove all people of Chinese descent from the country (Credit: Pictorial Press Ltd/Alamy) In 1875, a fire burned down Truckee's Chinatown. Though the blaze's origin was blamed on the Chinese and their wooden buildings, it would soon become apparent that these fires were not mere accidents. The Chinese community was forced to resettle on the other side of the Truckee River, where more fires would destroy their homes and businesses – repeatedly. In one especially despicable act, several white men set fire to their homes and then shot at Chinese residents as they fled the blaze. The perpetrators were caught and tried, but ultimately acquitted. Then came the Truckee Method, an effort by the town's white residents to boycott Chinese-owned businesses and any merchants that did business with members of the Chinese community. By the late 1880s, the Chinese community had dwindled to only a handful. Around the country, other Chinese communities were similarly driven out or destroyed. National anti-Chinese hatred fuelled by a fear of job competition, plus a sense of moral superiority over the Chinese, culminated in 1882, when Congress passed the Chinese Exclusion Act, which barred anyone of Chinese descent from entering the US. It wasn't repealed until 1943. Today the city of Truckee, along with the greater Lake Tahoe region, is a popular skiing destination – Palisades Tahoe (formerly known as Squaw Valley) located just 10 miles south of Truckee, hosted the 1960 Winter Olympics. The Sugar Bowl Resort, which served as the inspiration for Walt Disney's 1941 animated short, The Art of Skiing, backs up to the tunnels the Chinese labourers built. Today, Truckee and the surrounding area is a popular skiing destination (Credit: EQRoy/Alamy) Today, Truckee and the surrounding area is a popular skiing destination (Credit: EQRoy/Alamy) Yet, for all its international attention, there are almost no signs that Chinese immigrants once had a major presence in the region. Walking through downtown Truckee, the only hint of its Chinese heritage is a plaque that marks a brick building that once housed a Chinese herbal shop. But the success of the Transcontinental railroad and its cruel aftermath shouldn't be forgotten, says Yu. "The fact that it happened, that it can happen again and has happened again… that's why we keep talking about it, and why we cannot stop." Dear Reader, [JCF Gas Pump]( A Florida dad pulls up to the service station… He tries to “hack” the gas pump… And then THIS happens… [Click here to watch.]( Sincerely, Andrew Miller, Managing Editor, Jeff Clark Trader "Oh! How few studies there are," says Kathryn Murray, a psychologist and consulting associate at Duke University, North Carolina. She does not miss a beat. The sentiment is echoed by every researcher I speak to. There are plenty of studies on the developmental risks and challenges that young adopted children face, but far fewer on the nuances of their experiences, the best parenting strategies, or the children's development over the course of their lives. You don't stop having to deal with issues related to your adoption once you grow up - JaeRan Kim "We have almost no research on adoption post childhood," says JaeRan Kim, an associate professor in the School of Social Work and Criminal Justice at the University of Washington at Tacoma, whose research focuses on the wellbeing and experiences of adoptees. "But if you're adopted, you don't stop having to deal with issues related to your adoption once you grow up," she says. "How do adopted people parent? What kind of adoptive parents do they make? How do they deal with the loss of their biological parents? And their adoptive parents? We need to better understand these questions so that we can offer them the right kind of support." Because adoption is often framed as the final stop in a neglected or parentless child's journey to safety and stability, even the most basic information about the issues that children face after their adoption is frequently missing. This can include further trauma and disruption, such as abuse or abandonment by adoptive parents. It may even involve a return to foster care if the adoptive family lacks support and cannot cope with the consequences of early trauma, such as violent behaviour. "We know that not all adoptive parents raise their adopted children to adulthood," says Kim. "We call this adoption breakdown. But, here in the States, the figure could be anywhere between 5 and 25%. We just don't know for sure because the stats aren't there." So with huge holes in the research literature, how can we, as adoptive parents, use science to become better at addressing our children's unique needs? Responsive parenting can involve extra effort, but can result in a closer parent–child relationship (Credit: Ben Fergusson) Responsive parenting can involve extra effort, but can result in a closer parent–child relationship (Credit: Ben Fergusson) "Well, what we do have is lots of great research on the kinds of things that children who were adopted are more likely to have experienced," says Murray. "We know, for instance, that risk of suicide attempts is around four times higher for children who were adopted. That sounds really scary for someone thinking about adopting." But when Murray and her team took a large sample and controlled for trauma, they discovered that trauma accounted for much of that heightened risk. "That suggests that adoption in and of itself does not raise your suicide risk; but being adopted means that you are much more likely to have experienced trauma in the first few years of your life. And the good news is that we have lots of really great interventions for trauma." She gives the example of Trauma-Focused Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (TF-CBT), an evidence-backed treatment that has been shown to be effective at reducing post-traumatic stress symptoms, and other difficulties with mood and behaviour related to traumatic life events. "Ambiguous loss" When thinking about how one can deal with the traumas experienced by adoptive children, Kim points to the work of psychologist Pauline Boss who, in the 1970s, worked with the families of soldiers who had gone missing in action. Boss was trying to come up with a way to address the specific issue of grieving someone when you didn't know if they were dead or not, and she came up with the concept of "ambiguous loss". A loss that doesn't allow for any kind of complete emotional closure, such as the complex grief one might feel for a relative with dementia or for a child that was never conceived. The focus of Boss's work was getting people grieving these complex losses to accept that what they were dealing with could be "both/and". Someone could be both here and not here. And it was possible to learn to live with that duality and still lead a satisfying life. This approach is of course highly relevant to people who were adopted who often have missing or incomplete information about their birth families as well as countless intersecting dualities in their lives: birth parents, adoptive parents, sometimes foster parents too. If they've been adopted from another country, they may also have multiple cultural identities, neither of which they may feel they can fully inhabit. Boss's approach makes it clear that these children should not be made to feel that their differences don't matter. Indeed, adoptees have suggested that they would have benefited from questions and ambiguities being openly discussed and embraced in adoptive families. "Despite the difficulties of adoption, my life with my husband and my son is defined by the everyday travails and very deep joys of family life." (Credit: Ben Fergusson) "Despite the difficulties of adoption, my life with my husband and my son is defined by the everyday travails and very deep joys of family life." (Credit: Ben Fergusson) Family Tree This article is part of Family Tree, a series that explores the issues and opportunities families face today – and how they'll shape tomorrow. You might also be interested in other stories about children's wellbeing and development: Autism: Understanding my childhood habits How pets give your kids a brain boost Why childhood myopia rates are soaring Climb other branches of the family tree with BBC Culture and Worklife. For adoptive parents, it can also be important to acknowledge their own feelings of grief or loss. Murray cites the feelings that, in particular, straight couples who may originally have tried to conceive a biological child can have if their adopted child turns out to have a disability. "Some parents have already grieved a child they weren't able to conceive. And some parents we have spoken to describe experiencing a double grief when their adoptive child turns out, for example, to have special needs that they weren't aware of when they adopted." But, Murray says, when grief is taboo or shameful for parents and it stops them seeking help, that isn't good for them or their child. This is just one example of the numerous ways in which research on what makes a good adoptive parent is often hampered by good intentions and cultural taboos, according to the experts I interviewed. People like to think about adoptive parents as moral people who are doing a good thing and who should not be told they could be doing it better. And they like to believe that parental love is salve enough to solve all problems. So they don't want to hear that, despite being loved unconditionally, an adoptive child can still struggle. For an adoptive child, you need to understand that they are trying to communicate something that they cannot express – Pedro Alexandre Costa And yet, accepting these complex emotions and experiences around adoption can help adoptive parents let go of their old expectations of what having a child was going to be like, and embrace a different way of parenting. One key approach for adoptive parents is what Pedro Alexandre Costa, a clinical psychologist and researcher from the University Institute of Psychological, Social and Life Sciences (Ispa) in Lisbon, Portugal, calls "responsiveness". This requires adoptive parents to engage with their children in a more receptive way, and focus on warmth, bonding and closeness rather than rules and discipline. "Adoptive parents do just have to make an extra effort," Costa says. "They need to be responsive to their child when they might want to be strict. For instance, if their child is having a tantrum. For an adoptive child, you need to understand that they are trying to communicate something that they cannot express." This responsiveness and openness also needs to be applied to issues of attachment and security. "Adoptive parents need to be much more explicit with their child, for instance, that they are going to be around for the long haul," Costa adds. For this to be a success, it often involves parents having to rethink their approach to parenting, and engage more deeply in how they are responding to their child. But this can also be a source of pride, and result in a closer parent–child relationship. And there is no question that this relationship is central to dealing positively with the issues faced by kids who have gone through the care system. When I ask Costa what has most surprised him about his research into adoption, he points to the positive statistics on adoption improving a wide range of developmental outcomes, saying that he had not expected that "despite the difficulties, most children and parents are doing really well". For me, the key phrase here is "despite the difficulties…" Despite the difficulties of adoption, my life with my husband and my son is still defined by the everyday travails and very deep joys of family life. Sharing a cheeky doughnut on the way back from nursery, holding hands as we watch a red squirrel traverse the willow by the supermarket, trying not to laugh as our son pulls faces at the dinner table. These moments transcend the necessary legal convolutions of adoption that marked our first years as parents. The adoptive parents and grown-up adoptees I know have experienced a very broad range of challenges, many of which are unique to adoption. But the truth is that, despite the difficulties, they have each, in their own way, created families as complex and full of joy as anyone else's. Not without setbacks. Never without loss. But joyful, nonetheless. Ben Fergusson is a writer and translator. He is the author of three novels and the non-fiction book Tales from the Fatherland, an exploration of adoption and same-sex parenthood. He lives in Berlin with his husband and son. [divider] [WSW footer logo]( [divider] You are receiving this e-mail because you have expressed an interest in the Financial Education niche on one of our landing pages or sign-up forms on our website. If you {EMAIL} received this e-mail in error and would like to report spam, simply send an email to abuse@wallstreetwizardry.com. You’ll receive a response within 24 hours. Email sent by Finance and Investing Traffic, LLC, owner and operator of Wall Street Wizardry © 2023 Wall Street Wizardry. 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