why i became a journalist

A lost boy  finds his calling Romanian orphanage survivor hopes his documentary  can spare children from suffering

Izidor Ruckel, 32, is a Romanian orphanage survivor. He hopes his documentary can spare Romanian children the suffering he experienced. Photo from Washington Post.

 

I studied journalism because everyone is living a story worth telling. Because there are amazing, beautiful things happening every day in the midst of the shards of brokenness.

I studied journalism because our words wield power. Our letters nestled in words nestled in paragraphs can spur people to care, to take action, to hold people accountable, to love deeper. Our words can foster compassion, our stories can bring us together to fight for a better tomorrow.

This is phenomenal journalism and multimedia storytelling. This a story that desperately needs to be told.

I believe Jesus weeps at injustice, and has empowered and equipped those of us who have had loving and safe families to stand up for and stand alongside those who haven’t experienced the same love.

I want to wrap my arms around each one of these hurting children, and the hurting children who become hurting adults. I want to pull them close and whisper in their ear, “The world hasn’t treated you like you are, but you are precious. God loves you, dear one. I love you.”

It’s a lot to process, but I hope that you watch Washington Post’s video and read this raw, real story on Izidor Ruckel, a former Romanian orphan.

God, use us. We need your glory and power to break the spiritual and physical chains of oppression. Forgive those who sin egregiously against your precious children, and help us be your hands and feet to come alongside those who have been so broken and discarded. We know this pain is not of you, and we know that your light can shine in even the darkest places.

If this story touches you, do something. Let’s not let desperation paralyze us — we can’t do everything, but we can all do something.

Check out Livada Orphan Care, which is part of the Christian Alliance for Orphans. Livada is the Romanian word for orchard and serves as a symbol of what they want their ministry to continue to do: nurture Romanian orphans and at-risk kids to bear fruit that will last.

Here’s an excerpt from Tara Bahrampour‘s story, “A Lost Boy Finds His Calling”:

Izidor got out of the orphanage in 1991, but he has never quite left it behind. He has stayed in touch with many Sighetu kids who came to America and some who did not, and he is a linchpin in a network of parents, children and activists, hundreds of them, connected to Romanian adoption. If you call any of them for information on the subject, they are likely to ask, “Have you talked to Izidor Ruckel?”

So it makes sense that, this past October, he is one of the ones telling his story to the government of Romania.

Romanian lawmakers have gathered to hear from advocates of a bill that would overturn Romania’s international adoption ban. Several, including some adoptees, have traveled from as far as Italy and New Zealand; others, like Izidor, are participating via Skype.

Izidor’s testimony is impassioned. He likens life in a Romanian institution to “a holocaust” and excoriates the country for its lack of education and training to provide for abandoned children. He warns that nobody in Romania is willing to adopt children with mental or physical disabilities. Instead, they are left “imprisoned and caged.”

From Izidor’s perspective, the ban cut abandoned children off from the kind of opportunities he had. He and other advocates think Romania can be seen as a test case for what can happen when international adoptions are cut off in a country with limited resources to care for orphans.

Around 40,000 children are in institutions there, according to Catharsis, a Romanian children’s rights organization; government estimates are around 22,500. Children who have disabilities or are of Roma heritage have particularly slim chances of being adopted locally, advocates say.

Other countries have also barred international adoptions, the most recent — and notorious — being Russia, which in the 1990s and 2000s was the source of some of the world’s highest numbers of international adoptions. In what many saw as a political tit for tat, Russian lawmakers last year abruptly banned adoptions by Americans, including many who had already met and bonded with children they had been cleared to adopt. Advocates fear that these children could remain in institutions.

 

Advertisements

About Kayla

I'm a full-time journalist turned work-at-home writer. I'm hitched to a shaggy-haired pastor and we're smitten with two wild + crazy boys: Joseph (3), who joined our family via international adoption, and Asher (1), who came the old-fashioned way. I drink strong coffee, I like pretty things, and I believe there's beauty in the broken. I hope Many Sparrows will encourage you to find worth and live a story worth sharing. When I’m not changing diapers and sweeping Cheerios, I’m tickling the ivory keys of my old school MacBook as a freelance writer and editor. And when I’m not doing that, I’m sneaking into the living room in the wee hours of the night to blog about all of the things. (Primarily faith, family, style, adoption, design, and happy thoughts.)
This entry was posted in Adoption, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to why i became a journalist

  1. Debbie King says:

    It is a wonderful story….and Izidor is a wonderful man. You can go on his website or my son’s and see a trailer from their documentary “Given Our Chance”…..Izidor’s website is http://www.abandonedforlife.com and Alex’s website http://www.akingproduction.com

  2. Jayne Ferguson says:

    Wonderful story and so inspiring. Strong young man. I adopted my son from Romania right after the fall in Feb. of 1991, he was 10 months old. He is 23 years old now and a college graduate. I can’t even imagine what his like would of been like if my (at the time) husband I had not gone ther for a onth and brought him home.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s