Willow Glen Resident
News
Photograph by Vicki Thompson
Sharing the Care: Jim Moore puts on his daughter Caroline's shoe, after he and his partner, Clark Williams, spend an afternoon at River Glen Park in Willow Glen. The park is a frequent stop for the family.
Daughter makes June 18 special
Father's Day means two times the fun
By Alicia Upano
Two-year-old Caroline Williams stands with her father, James Moore, at the bottom of a green slide in River Glen Park. It's been a full day for the cheerful toddler, beginning with swimming lessons and ending here, her favorite park.
From the enclosed slide comes a man's voice. "I'm coming down," he says, his voice echoing through the plastic enclosure. He slides down feet first as a giggling Caroline waits for her other parent, Clark Williams.
To Caroline, Williams is Daddy and Moore is Papa. Together, the couple has raised Caroline since the day she was born. On Father's Day, the men will toast each other for being dedicated parents to a little girl who plays courageously on the jungle gym and is quick to make friends.
After the park, the family heads to their North Willow Glen home for dinner. Williams, who spends most of his time caring for Caroline, gets a moment's rest as Moore begins dinner with Caroline, ripping lettuce leaves and dropping cherry tomatoes into a bowl.
Caroline would rather draw or chase the couple's 17-year-old cat around, but she is quick to help when asked. She helps Williams place cushions on the outdoor dining seats.
"Papa," Williams calls over to Moore, now grilling. "What else do I need to do?"
"We're all set, Daddy-o," Moore replies.
It's a typical day in the Williams-Moore household, followed by story time and bedtime in Caroline's pink and purple room.
Like most parents, Williams and Moore feel an overwhelming need to protect Caroline.
"She so perfect right now. She's in a world that's safe with people who love her and care for her," Moore says.
That environment extends to the community, where Williams and Moore are active volunteers. But there are times when that support is frayed, such as during the Los Altos gay pride parade on June 4 when protestors came out. Caroline was too young to read the anti-gay signs, but Moore knew one day she would.
"We fully recognize she's going to have a different childhood than other kids," says Williams.
Caroline is adopted and being raised by two men. She was also born with a bilateral cleft lip and cleft palate. Along with love, the men hope to instill in her strength and independence.
Their parenting skills have not gone unnoticed. The nonprofit Building Peaceful Families recognized Williams, along with a handful of other men, on June 12 as a "Top Community Dad."
Building Peaceful Families is an anti-violence organization that aims to end domestic violence by emphasizing the positive. Men such as Williams are role models, says Steve Preminger, a Building Peaceful Families board member. He says the board nominated Williams.
"A number of us in leadership roles frankly think the world of Clark. He's a Renaissance kind of guy. He's committed to the community, he's passionate about life, he's passionate about Caroline and Jim," Preminger says. "He's everything you could want in a dad."
What's more, Preminger says, Caroline has actually inspired Williams' work in the community.
Williams is the North Willow Glen Neighborhood Association vice president. He serves on the Resources for Families and Communities executive board and the Citizen Watchdog Committee for Santa Clara County's Measure B Transportation Improvement Project. He was recently named to the city's Sunshine Reform Task Force. He served as interim director of the Billy DeFrank LGBT Community Center earlier this year, and is a part-time nonprofit consultant and stay-at-home father.
Back in the day
In 1997, Williams had moved from his home state of Wisconsin to New York and was studying for his master's in clinical social work at New York University. Moore was working in NYU's law admissions office and considered studying film. The two met for coffee and have been together since.
Moore decided to focus on law school, and the couple moved to Washington, D.C., in 1998, where Moore attended George Washington University. During that time, Williams worked as executive director for a women's health-care organization in Baltimore. There, he worked with women struggling with substance abuse.
While in Washington, Williams knew he wanted to have a family, to fulfill his lifelong dream of becoming a parent. Moore, however, had never considered the possibility. He did not known any gay couples who had adopted a child.
Williams wanted to settle down and buy a home before they adopted. They decided to move to California because the state allowed two men to jointly adopt a domestic child.
In 2001, after Moore graduated from law school, the couple bought a home in North Willow Glen.
Soon after the move, Williams starting working as a senior manager with the Santa Clara County Public Health Department. Moore was about to begin working as an associate at the law firm Thelen Reid & Priest. Then, Sept. 11 happened and, like the rest of the country, it jolted their lives.
"We realized it was time to start living and start building for the future," Williams says.
Moore and Williams hired an independent adoption attorney in San Francisco. Their attorney was "stunned" they disregarded factors such as race and religion and were willing to consider a child exposed to drugs, Moore says.
"More than anything we wanted a baby," Moore says.
They knew a child who was exposed to drugs during pregnancy could be born with birth defects, but it was a gamble they were willing to take. For Williams, it was putting into practice what he had advocated professionally.
"It was a real gut check on my values," he says. "I truly believe all kids are born innocent. I believe all kids deserve a good home."
The couple opted for open adoption, a process by which the birth parents choose the adoptive parents. A 32-year-old woman in Los Angeles selected them to adopt her child. She was seven months pregnant but thin, homeless and using methamphetamine, alcohol and marijuana. Despite the odds, as soon as Williams received her phone number, he knew this was his baby.
However, the health professionals warned them any adoption could be risky; it is not uncommon for the birth mother to change her mind and keep the child. All prospective parents are warned not to become emotionally attached to the child until they receive legal custody.
But Williams and Moore were eager parents-to-be. They contacted the birth mother and visited her in Tarzana, where an attorney found her an apartment. Under California law, the couple could provide financial support to the birth mother including food, housing and medical care, which they did.
Williams tried to convince the birth mother to receive inpatient drug treatment; she refused. She did say, however, that she wanted the baby to be born clean. Her other children, also given up for adoption, were born drug-addicted.
So Williams quit his job with the county, rented an apartment near the woman and helped her stay off drugs. Williams says he picked his battles, accepting the fact she was going to smoke cigarettes if it kept her from using methamphetamine. She could also eat at McDonalds and drink Coca-Cola as long as she ate.
Moore, still busy at work in Silicon Valley, came down on the weekends.
The men read books on parenting and mulled over baby names, while health professionals continued to warn them adopting a child under these kind of circumstances was a mistake.
Williams and Moore persisted, and got to know the birth mother. Like many of Williams' former patients, the woman had been neglected and abused as a child. She had lived in poverty and lacked access to adequate health care and education.
"If I was going to be a good parent to this baby, I really needed to know who her birth mother was," Williams says.
His efforts paid off. The mother gained weight and delivered within two days of her due date. She told Williams she couldn't wait any longer to do drugs, and Williams convinced the doctor to induce labor.
On July 23, 2003, Williams and Moore watched the baby come into the world at 7 pounds, 2 ounces. The baby had a bilateral cleft lip and a cleft palate and was immediately placed in the neonatal intensive care unit. The couple knew, once they saw her, that her name was Caroline.
Three days later, the birth mother terminated her parental rights, and Williams and Moore received custody of the newborn. They drove her home in the blazing heat, stopping every two hours to feed her.
"I was just in love," Moore says. "She was a beautiful little girl."
"I was so happy, I was so certain that everything we had to do to get to that moment was worth it," Williams says.
While Caroline brought new life into the Williams-Moore household, her cleft lip and palate caused several problems. Cleft lip, one of the more common birth defects, happens when the skin between the nose and the lip does not fuse properly during pregnancy. Cleft palate is an opening in the roof of the mouth, leaving the nasal passage more exposed and making feeding difficult. The abnormalities could also lead to hearing and speech issues.
At 2 months old, Caroline underwent surgery to correct the cleft lip. Doctors also placed tubes in her ears to ensure proper draining of the nasal passage and to protect her from hearing loss. Doctors told Williams and Moore that speaking and reading to Caroline would help her improve any future speech issues.
A month after their adoption was complete, Caroline underwent surgery again at 10 months to close the hole in her mouth.
The surgeries have enabled Caroline to talk, hear and eat normally. And like other 2-year-olds, Caroline has made her mark--a tricycle on the stoop and crayons in the kitchen.
These are some of little details that are part of Caroline's life, as the men fulfill the roles of both mother and father. They also make an effort to expose Caroline to a number of women caretakers and role models.
In turn, Moore hopes he may one day be the role model he never had, showing other gay men family life is an option.
On a larger scale, they are grateful they are able to raise Caroline in a community as welcoming as San Jose and in particular, Willow Glen.
"We have been embraced, and we are part of the diversity of this community," Williams says.
This strong sense of community is helping them raise a confident and determined young lady. Now Williams and Moore have their sights on adopting and raising another child in need, and enveloping him or her in the warmth of their home along with big sister Caroline.
