David Marshall had two dreams in life: to become an opera singer and to be a father. He achieved both, though his journey to fatherhood wasn’t as straightforward as his career in music. When Marshall decided he wanted to become a parent, there was no clear path to do so as a single gay man. In 2021, he founded a nonprofit called Journey to Josiah, named after his son whom he adopted in 2017. Focused on education and outreach, the organization’s mission is to increase the rates of adoptions and the fostering of children around the world.

When did you adopt your son? What was that day like?
Our “Gotcha Day” was April 3, 2017. That’s the day I got him. He was 2 weeks old. I adopted him through an agency called Adoptions Together in Calverton, Maryland. I got the call, and I raced down to Prince George’s County. He was wide awake, this little thing looking at me and I was looking at him, crying. It was instant love.

You started the adoption process two years before that, right? Why does adoption take so long?
I went to an information meeting in 2015. Next is the home study process. It’s a very intense process where you have a social worker come to your home to learn about you. They are not coming to see if there are dust balls in the corner, they want to know who you are. I completed my home study in roughly six months. Then the social worker has 90 days to submit their full report. That’s when you are formally a part of the process. I was invited to [adopt] as part of the domestic infant program where I was then waiting.

What do prospective parents do while they’re waiting for their child?
During the process the agency offers classes. For instance, you’re learning the history of adoption. If you are looking to adopt a child outside of your race, then there are classes on raising children of different cultures and ethnicities. Because it’s so important. They always want to make sure that the children, no matter who they’re raised by, are still very connected to who they are.

You say that there’s a lot of misinformation out there, such as that it’s illegal to adopt as a gay couple. Is that true, or was it at one point?
Yes, in some states it was illegal until fairly recently. And in certain countries now it still is. There was a time in the early days of adoption, they were looking for heterosexual couples. And quite honestly, most of the time, they were looking for white heterosexual couples. So it has evolved.

Yet there are still certain hurdles to overcome, such as being single, right? Are there certain agencies that won’t adopt to single people?
Ultimately, it’s the birth parent who picks who they want their child to be parented by. However, getting to that place [requires finding] an agency that’s willing to work with you, because we find that agencies project a lot of their own biases. You have agencies that will make the claim that you’re going to be harder to place as a single person or as a gay person or as a gay couple. We get into issues not of legality, but discrimination.

Do you think that’s changing?
When we think about the generation that is now going to be placing children for adoption, we’re talking about Millennials and below. For them, the whole LGBTQIA+ community is normal. This is what they grew up seeing and accepting. Gay marriage is normal for them. So a lot of the work that I am doing is helping families to find those agencies that are going to be accepting of them. Because the birth families are fine. I met Josiah’s birth parents before he was born. They were completely fine with who I am. His birth dad is actually the first person who picked me. It just tears down that whole stigma of, “Oh, he’s a gay man, a father would not want [that].” No, Josiah’s birth father could not have cared less about any of that.

When did you form your organization, Journey to Josiah, and why?
My organization is two years old. I started this in my basement during the pandemic. The majority of my clients are from the LGBTQ community, but I’ve had every family structure and, unlike agencies, I don’t discriminate. The end goal is to match you with the agency, but I also give you all of the tools to understand the process.  When people call me, they have told me stories about how they have had doors shut in their faces. I’ve had people who have been discriminated against who have called me to say, “Can you help me?” Believe it or not the most shocking one was in San Francisco. That client was rejected by six agencies for being single and gay.

What does the future look like for Journey to Josiah?
I want to do more than just talk about how to become a parent, I want to be an advocate and a change agent. My experience has confirmed to me that there’s something necessary about this work. When you listen to that still voice inside and you know that it’s God, you have to follow it.

What’s the ultimate cure for this recent heaviness? Puppies, of course.

In the past few weeks, families have been using the forced time at home to finally say yes to the question they’ve been asked for months/years: “Can we get a puppy . . . Pleeeaaassseeee???”

“For years, my kids have asked—daily—for a dog,” says Jessica Klaitman. Slowly, she and her husband’s firm “no” had started to soften. “Not that we ever told the kids that,” jokes Klaitman, who lives in Towson. Then quarantine hit.

As she walked her kids home from school on March 13th, the last day that schools were open, a dog was the last thing on her mind.

“A week later though, as the reality of our collective situation started to sink in, and the tears and frustration started showing,” Klaitman says, “we realized that we needed an infusion of happiness—right now.” Her kids were so surprised when they brought Pepper home, that her daughter asked, “Is that a real dog?”

The Klaitmans’ new dog, Pepper. -Jessica Klaitman

Josie Moon joined the Siegal-Andorsky family on March 23rd, the day Governor Larry Hogan‘s executive order that only essential services remain open in the state went into effect.

The family had been considering getting a dog for about a year, but was hesitant to do so with their busy lifestyle. Their middle child was the one who had been consistently and persistently asking for a dog. She pointed out that this—meaning the pandemic—was the best opportunity to be home with a puppy. “I’ve literally been waiting 10 years for this day to come,” says 10-year old, Nava.

Since the children’s school—Krieger Schechter Day School—had moved to an online learning environment, mom Rachel Siegal had been exploring the pet possibility with renewed vigor.

“When I heard the essential-services-only executive order was coming into effect at 5 p.m., I told myself it was now or never,” Siegal says. “I went and met the puppy by myself at 1:30, leaving the kids at home with my husband, Sam.” (She had learned her lesson from a previous puppy encounter earlier in the week, when they all went and the kids left brokenhearted when she decided that particular dog wasn’t right for them.)

“When I met this puppy I had a sense that she was the one,” says Siegal. After meeting the entire family later that afternoon, the new pup was settled in her new home before the executive order went into effect that night.

“We borrowed some puppy supplies from neighbors, did a curbside pick up order from Petco, found Joy Freedman, a trainer who was willing to do online virtual trainings with us as a family, and we were off and running,” she says.

The Siegal-Andorsky family with their new pup, Josie Moon. -Rachel Siegal

The Sandhu Potter family had been talking about a puppy for a while, given that their last rescue, Freddie, is 17. “We thought we’d do it after she passes,” says Kiran Sandhu. “But since she’s still going pretty strong and we are all home now, we decided to take advantage of the time.”

Hodja, a “probably” collie/corgi mix, is named after Nasreddin Hodja, a Turkish satirist from the 13th century. “We used to read his stories to the kids when they were little,” says Sandhu.

Another big motivating factor for the family was giving the kids something to focus on that isn’t a screen.

“It’s been great having the time to dedicate to a puppy,” says Sandhu, an ESOL educational associate with Baltimore City Public Schools. “I’m not sure how we could have done it with our normal schedules.”

Klaitman agrees it’s a wonderful distraction and way to fill time. “Pepper has been such a wonderful diversion for us,” she says. “And yes, she has succeeded in increasing our happiness exponentially.”

The Sandhu Potter family poses with Hodja.

-Kiran Sandhu

The same is true in the Siegal-Andorsky household. The first day, they filled up a wall in their hallway with Post-It notes covered in possible names for their puppy. Over the course of the second day, they eliminated some names as her personality started to emerge.

Their 13-year old son, Yoni, wanted a nature-based name, like Storm or Ash, reflective of Josie’s merle coat. “We didn’t want to do a name that was anything reminiscent of coronavirus or of this terrible time for our world,” says Siegal.

After day two it became clear that Josie Moon was the name that best suited her chill personality.

“I like to think of her as an old hippie come to our family to help chill us all out,” jokes Siegal. “It’s also been great to have her around for those 15 minutes here and there when the kids have breaks between their Zoom classes. Rather than watch one more YouTube video, they’re coming downstairs to the kitchen to play with the puppy,” she says, mentioning, “That’s not to say they’re not watching hours and hours of YouTube and Netflix—which they are—while Sam and I try to continue to work.”

Says Klaitman, “The kids call her their ‘emotional support dog.’ To be honest, so do the adults. We love our ‘pandemic puppy’ and know that she will help imprint some delightful memories from a difficult time.”

Halfway through the workday—after the caffeine has worn off and you’ve responded to your 50th email—you might find yourself in need of a pick-me-up, and nothing provides a boost quite like a four-legged fur ball. In fact, studies show that animals can improve mental health, lower stress levels, and lead to an all-around happier life. And now, instead of browsing adorable internet cat photos on your lunch break, you can play with them in real life at Baltimore’s first-ever cat café, located at the historic Whitehall Mill.

Two years ago, when Cam Tucker, the owner of Charm Kitty Café, visited the first cat café in D.C., he immediately wondered why Baltimore had yet to join the growing trend of cafes that doubled as adoption shelters. As a lifelong cat-lover and Baltimore transplant, he saw a similarity in his favorite pet and newfound city: both were deserving of second chances. Even the newly renovated mixed-use space his café shares with other vendors is a sort of revival. “We’re taking something old,” says Tucker, “and turning it into something special and unique.”

The café is certainly one of a kind for Baltimore, acting as both a foster home for cats from the Baltimore Humane Society and a co-working hangout for local residents and area business people, with java by Zeke’s Coffee and treats by Dark Side Cookies. Customers can walk in or make online reservations for 60-minute blocks of kitty time or register for full-day passes, which they can use to co-work alongside the whiskered critters any time.

With a continuous cycle of 10 cats that were mostly surrendered by previous owners, the café will provide additional space for the no-kill humane society to save more animal lives. “This is heaven for these cats,” says BHS executive director Christine DeCorse. “It gives them a comfortable environment where they can socialize with other cats and even people. Having them here is as close to a home as you can get.”

Soon, local cat lovers will also welcome a second cat café in Hampden early next year. Similar to Tucker, owner Amanda Bennett was inspired to start Neko No Kafe after a cat café visit in Canada. While no mention of a co-working space has been announced, the rest of the concept remains the same with adoptable cats from Passport Animal Rescue, a full coffee bar with beans from Chesapeake Bay Roasting Co., and bites from SweetSide Café.

Back in Whitehall Mill, Charm Kitty Café’s felines come in all colors, shapes, and personalities, and can even be adopted by customers via an on-site application. “When Baltimore is ready for a dog café, we’re there,” laughs Tucker. “I’ve got my hands full with the cats already, but stay tuned, you never know.”

Get a Grip
Kathy Flann (Texas Review Press)

There’s something about Flann’s characters that stays with you. The protagonists in her short stories range across the spectrum of age, social class, and life experience, so it may seem puzzling to feel so connected to them. But perhaps it’s because Flann, a creative writing professor at Goucher College, expertly illustrates the yearning for change and control that we all experience. Though you don’t know exactly what it’s like to be an Estonian teenager journeying from your blighted neighborhood to a college interview with your brother, maybe, like him, you’ve also craved a future rich with opportunity. And even if you’ve never been an unmarried, 40-year-old woman devouring your birthday cake by yourself, perhaps you, too, have ached for love and a purpose in life. Most of these narratives play out in partly real, partly imagined Baltimore neighborhoods that are so authentic you’ll feel as if you could run into any of the characters at the grocery store or the airport. Best of all are Flann’s unresolved endings. With each, she takes you to the precipice, and leaves it up to you to decide which way life will turn.

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Chesapeake Oysters: The Bay’s Foundation and Future
Kate Livie (The History Press)

It’s easy to forget, as we’re slurping down these delicious bivalves, how much they’re entwined in our history as a state, region, and country. The earliest English settlers wrote about how they encountered the opalescent shells over an open fire, as Native Americans prepared a meal. Then, in the 19th and 20th centuries, thousands in Baltimore and on the Eastern Shore made their livings by harvesting oysters, so much so they nearly destroyed them. Oysters were in such demand that they were given the moniker “white gold” and became the frequent target of pirates, who would steal catches off boats. There was even an Oyster Navy patrolling the Chesapeake. Livie, the director of education at the Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum in St. Michaels, skillfully recounts this history and the science behind these fascinating creatures, weaving historical accounts with anecdotes and engaging tidbits. The information couldn’t be more timely, with oyster aquaculture booming and reminding us all how much we owe to these pearly beauts.

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One Child for Another
Nancy Murray (11th Hour Press)

Memoir is both the easiest and hardest genre of literature to write. Easiest, because we are showcasing our own histories, what we know best. Hardest, because it can be difficult to face and chronicle our most miserable moments, to detail our failures and disappointments, to admit that yes, life is flawed. In her debut book, Murray, a graduate of the University of Baltimore’s MFA program, treads that ground with grace and sincerity, creating a poignant example of what memoirs can achieve. She details how she became pregnant as a teenager in the 1970s and her decision to give up her child for adoption. She relates the story with remarkable detail and candor—from her description of the outfit she wore as she journeyed to a home for unwed mothers to the excruciating, emotional pain of creating a new life she knew could not be a part of her own. Murray’s story is one of surviving abuse, sacrifice, and ultimately, resilience, told with such honesty that you’ll feel as if you are experiencing it with her. You won’t want to put it down.

Read an interview with writer Nancy Murray.

Nancy Murray was 16 when she became pregnant and made the gut-wrenching decision that she wanted to give up her baby for adoption. She eventually reunited with her son Dylan and his adoptive parents, and she chronicled her experiences with adoption, abuse, and teenage motherhood in her memoir One Child for Another. Murray joined us to discuss how she decided to write the book, the pain of memory, and the role of writing in her life.

How did you come to the idea that you wanted to write about this part of your life? It is so personal, and I’m sure that made it so difficult to write about.
Dylan and his other mother and I have done the circuit of talking to adoption agencies, so we’ve told the story. And of course, among friends and family we’d told it again and again and again. But the story we told was always the Hallmark version, with the big happy ending. We didn’t really talk about what it was like to be the birth mother, we talked about the celebration of coming together. It was always sort of in my mind that I wanted to say, ‘You know, it wasn’t easy.’ It was scary and it was hard, and I wanted people to get that. There’s a lot of birth mothers out there that don’t have the big happy ending with their child that we had.

What was the process like of beginning to write the book?
I wrote it as part of my graduate thesis. Dylan and I have always talked writing about it or making a movie out of it because it’s so grand, there’s so many elements to it. But it was always very lighthearted. I went to [Dylan and his adoptive parents] after, when I actually had a body of work to say, ‘Hey, what do you think about this and what do you think about this being out in the world?’ We talked from there.

What was your family’s response to you writing about this time in your life?
I talked to them about it beforehand, but they didn’t read it until it was published. I was really worried about that, to be perfectly honest, because all my siblings are good people, but they all have chosen to frame their lives how they’ve chosen to frame their lives. It’s different for each one of us. For me to be going public with some of the things I had in there, I was concerned. [One of my brothers] had a very strong bond and connection with my mother. I was very worried that he would be hurt by the fact that I was exposing some of her weaknesses. But he wasn’t. He read it and the word he used was, ‘perfect’ because it captured the darkness that she was surrounded by and also showed her with some strengths and as a loving mother. I was happy about that. My sister who did not have a close relationship with my mother, she reacted differently, but she was still supportive. She said, ‘That is your story and you tell it.’

How long did it take you to write?
When I actually put pen to paper, I wrote it in about three months.

That’s fast.
I had to cram it in, I was on a timeline. But I had been chewing on it and mulling it over for my whole life, to understand what it meant to me and to understand the idea that something terrible happened in my life and it turned into something so positive . . . I grew from that experience. I’d been thinking about it for a long time, so it wasn’t like I had to untangle it and understand its meaning before I started to write. I had already been doing that.

One thing that impressed me in the book was its level of detail. Was that still very present for you?
No. I actually had to go back to [St. Ann’s Infant and Maternity Home]. Once I walked around the grounds and the building, some memories flooded back . . . I did keep a diary, but unfortunately, the diary vanished. I’d been carrying this thing around for my entire adult life that I’d written while I was there and I’d read it once or twice, so I had some memories of what I said. But, when I actually sat down to put the pen to paper, I couldn’t find the diary anywhere. It was maddening. So I did have to pull from my remembering reading the diary. I asked some of my siblings what they remembered about that experience. It was a lot of piecing things together.

Was there anything particularly surprising to you about writing the book?
I hadn’t realized that I had blocked the day that I gave birth. I wrote that at the very, very last minute. I had to push through a wall of fire to get there because I didn’t want to face it, I didn’t want to go back and remember that. So I locked myself in my room and forced myself to do it, because I knew it had to be a part of the story. I learned as I was actually writing it and crying—it really brought up a lot of feelings—that that day was when my bravado of being a tough kid and a really savvy person all broke down. Because I was frightened, I was weak, I was out of control, I was a kid. And that was the moment that I had to accept it . . . I did remember going into shock, I did remember punching the nurse—those are things you don’t forget. [laughs] But I didn’t really remember what I felt. One of the fears about memoir is that it’s therapy for the writer and not interesting for the reader. For most of the book I knew I was writing something was interesting for the reader because I had already worked out all my therapy stuff, but this was the one moment where I was thinking, ‘Oh wow, this is some stuff I need to work on.’ I was really surprised at the level of emotions that came out of that. It was very hard for me.

Are you considering writing more memoirs or do you think you’ll venture into other types of writing?
I have so many projects floating around in this brain of mine right now. I’m working on another memoir about my relationship with money, which also has a lot of highs and lows and dramatic, relevant experiences. I also have a goal to do a historical fiction work based on the ancestry of my family. There’s an incredible thread of a story there, which I won’t tell you now, that I can’t wait to write.

Was writing always a part of your life?
Yes. There was a bit of a dual existence for me, as I had a lot of secrets, and the way that I sort of kept track of myself was through writing. I always had diaries, I always wrote poetry, I wasn’t always good. There’s a poem in the book that I wrote about Dylan a couple of days after I gave him away. But it’s not been something I’ve shared, because of the secrets in my family. I was sort of trained not to share what was inside of me—write it down, keep it for myself. There was a lot of work for me to get to the point where I could actually get the stories out.

When did that point occur?
I’ve been trying all my life to do it. I’d been starting and stopping, starting and stopping. That’s why I went to the writing and publishing program at the University of Baltimore—I wanted to force my hand, to force myself to get it out there. That was my motivation for going to school.

And it worked.
It worked in a lot of ways. It changed my thinking, it built my confidence and now I’ve got all these other projects that I feel much more comfortable putting out there. It’s been a great experience . . . [The book] was about more than having a baby. At least I attempted to make it be about the powerless in a difficult situation, letting the difficulties actually be what spurs them on to finding their power. I find my voice in the book and I find my motivation to change my situation. And it was this kind of terrible event that happened that gave me that. There’s gifts in all things.