So Perfectly Expressed

Podcast by Ande Scott, a late discovery adoptee

This was NOT in her podcast but was posted by my friend on Facebook. It was so good (and I am short on time today) that I wanted to share it here.

When people tell me Adoption isn’t like it was when you were a baby – in many ways the adoption industry is worse. On the one hand, they will acknowledge that adoption is trauma, but continue to do “outreach” to coerce pregnant people in crisis to give up their children. They will acknowledge that our families are traumatized by our loss, but throw platitudes and promises at them, in order to convince them to relinquish. They acknowledge the pain, but pursue policies that deny reproductive rights, prevent sex education and access to contraceptives , and promote a false narrative that children will be better off with strangers. They acknowledge that people who lose their families should know they are being raised by others, and say they promote openness. Without advising our families that this is usually not enforceable, and still advocating for falsified birth certificates. They promote foster to adopt as the solution, but do not disclose the way this has been turned into a racket; one that involves increased policing of families, especially families of color.

They’ve gotten better at the con, out of long years of practice and access to billions of dollars. They use their lobbying and political and religious and social power to disempower others and perpetuate marginalization, when they could put the weight of their influence behind family preservation and the programs that would make our society healthier. But that would mean a loss of money and power.

Every day another child is robbed of their identity and family and culture and history via the practices of the dual birth certificate system, closed adoption (knowing you are adopted does not equate to open adoption ), private adoption, transracial adoption, transnational adoption.

None of these practices are necessary to help a child in crisis.

SAY SoMeThInG!

Artwork by late discovery adoptee, Ande Scott.

Ande says, Like poetry, I think images like these are impossible to understand without the backstory: the painting looks pretty! Look at the pretty colors! Now look more closely! Notice the pointy shards of colored glass!

Notice the bullshit excuses! The teeny words say, it’s not my place to say anything; the mantra of everyone who knew I was adopted and conspired to keep the secret.

Someone there commented – I see the jumbled shards of glass and see the pain from adoption and an abusive childhood that there is never an escape from – ever. A non-adoptee sees the pretty colorful pattern of glass not knowing the pain it took to display this – let alone what it would take to make those shards into something that could help heal.

I know a few moms in my mom’s group (related to my youngest son’s age) who took a “don’t tell” strategy regarding the conception of their children. Generally speaking, most secrets don’t succeed over the long run. With the advent of inexpensive DNA testing and matching (Ancestry.com and 23 and Me), I am forever grateful my family didn’t choose to hide important truths from our sons. I don’t know how things will turn out over the long run for the others.

Our Missing Stories

My friend, Ande Scott, does a podcast called LINK>The Adoption Files. The Adoption Files seeks to provide a place for adoptees and allies to discuss the laws preventing adoptees from accessing their identities, and the emotional and physical challenges adoptees face in the process of dealing with the obstacles we face. I was once a guest on her podcast. Ande is also a late discovery adoptee – which means she grew up never being told that she was adopted and only found out much later as an adult. Today, she shared something so poignant, I needed to bring it here to reach others who might not be her friend on Facebook. Here is what she wrote –

As adopted people, we are severed from our stories. Along with photos, the greatest treasures I have received from family members are the few stories I have been told. My grandfather who testified against the mob, my other grandfather who walked back to allied lines after his bomber was shot down. The great-uncle who ran away to Australia.

My youngest expressed to me the loss he feels when he sees the photos, hears the stories, sees the traditions that thread together the strands of his friends lives.

I wish I had those things to give to him, that the false narrative had been the true story. Not the fantasy that was torn away from not just me, but my children as well.

I probably make my grandkids a little crazy, bombarding them with the stories of trips to the museum and days spent in Lego architecture and how I used to take their dad and uncle for “walks”; me on my quad skates, their dad in rollerblades, their uncle on a skateboard. How we would take turns carrying the eight pound dog when she was worn out from keeping up.

I want them to have stories to fill in at least a little of the void that stretches out behind them just two generations back.

Because being lost to family isn’t just about the adopted person.

It’s about everyone who comes after, as well.

blogger’s note – I was recently in contact with Barbara Raymond (author of The Baby Thief) which is about Georgia Tann, who looms large in my own mother’s adoption story. She said – you have more adoption in your family than anyone else I have heard of. It’s true. Not only were BOTH of my parents adoptees but each of my 2 sisters gave up a baby to adoption. That makes 4 adoptees in my immediate genetic, biological family. Long ago, as I was uncovering my actual genetic, biological grandparents, my youngest son said – you have a very complicated family. That is true and I’ve been doing my best to come to terms with that and integrate it into my own understanding of what family is. All 4 of my adoptive grandparents were “good” people who treated us well as genuine grandchildren. Learning the truth of my original genetic, biological grandparents did shatter that a bit for me personally. I’ve been doing my best to put ALL of the pieces back together again.