Adoption Wishes
I was invited to share on Amy’s blog after contacting her about an earlier post she had written. We go back to college days when cheerleading, waiting tables, and having fun were things we shared. We haven’t talked much since those days but I felt compelled to thank her for her portrayal of adoption as emotional, uncertain, and honest hard work.
I know these things to be true. I am adopted.
When I think back to my childhood, I have both happy memories and sad. My adoptive parents are Christians, still married, and somewhat emotionally detached. There are many things I wished for, from the difficult (knowing and meeting my birth parents) to the simple (someone telling me it was okay to talk about them). Here are some of my wishes.
I know these things to be true. I am adopted.
When I think back to my childhood, I have both happy memories and sad. My adoptive parents are Christians, still married, and somewhat emotionally detached. There are many things I wished for, from the difficult (knowing and meeting my birth parents) to the simple (someone telling me it was okay to talk about them). Here are some of my wishes.
1. I wish someone had told me it was okay to talk about my life before. As an adult, I now realize I left behind so much – the smells, the sights, the friends, the caregivers, the routine, the language, the culture and sense of belonging that were created during those first 3 years of my life. I have never spoken of it to my adoptive parents, no questions, no ponderings, no imaginary play; they never told me it was allowed and I never knew if I should ask.
2. I wish someone had talked with me about my birth parents. I realize I had a lot of questions: what did they look like, were they alive, why did they leave me, what happened to them, did they wonder about me, would I ever see them again, did they miss me, did they still love me, did they have other children? But no one ever did. As the mother of 2 young children, the idea of sending them to live with someone who would never mention me to them makes my heart ache in a way that is physically painful. Yet, I have still never talked about this with my adoptive parents.
3. I wish someone had told me I didn’t deserve adoption. Don’t misunderstand, what child works for their place in their family? Being told you are “so lucky” to have been adopted is like saying the child must now work hard enough, achieve enough, behave well enough, be perfect enough to somehow earn their place in the family. Just as works do not earn us our salvation, our adoption is not something to earn. And while we call Jesus our Savior, adoptive parents must not think they are “rescuing their poor children”. The adoption itself creates a whole new list of issues that can’t ever really be considered a rescue mission.
4. I wish someone had warned me about how mean others would be but that it wasn’t my fault. Kids, to a certain degree, get a pass since their life experience and maturity mean they sometimes ask things in a way that is not intended to be hurtful. However, there were a lot of times kids and adults made fun of me and my sister for things based on race. Laughing at the flatness of my nose because it would make wearing glasses more difficult later in life. Laughing at my eyes and pulling on their own as if the slant of my eyes was some kind of joke. Laughing at the food I was sure to have eaten by calling it gook food (that was from a family member). I felt embarrassed and ashamed of who I was. I somehow believed I should apologize for being different, instead of angry about others’ unprovoked cruelty.
5. I wish someone would have broken out of the mainstream to create a movie, a book, a magazine, something and been a role model that young Asian Americans could look up to at a time when there was literally nothing. Do you want to know what your child feels on an almost daily basis? Try finding a social situation in which you and maybe one other person are the only ones of your race. Now imagine that’s your life every day and you’ll begin to understand. There was a long period of time (think well into adulthood) that I was more comfortable in a situation in which everyone was Caucasian than in one in which others looked like me. Odd? Not if you remember the way I grew up.
My list goes on. If I’m invited back, I’ll share more of them. They have become more apparent to me as I have become a parent myself. Thinking of myself at the stages they have reached makes me question so much. I wish I knew who to ask.
2. I wish someone had talked with me about my birth parents. I realize I had a lot of questions: what did they look like, were they alive, why did they leave me, what happened to them, did they wonder about me, would I ever see them again, did they miss me, did they still love me, did they have other children? But no one ever did. As the mother of 2 young children, the idea of sending them to live with someone who would never mention me to them makes my heart ache in a way that is physically painful. Yet, I have still never talked about this with my adoptive parents.
3. I wish someone had told me I didn’t deserve adoption. Don’t misunderstand, what child works for their place in their family? Being told you are “so lucky” to have been adopted is like saying the child must now work hard enough, achieve enough, behave well enough, be perfect enough to somehow earn their place in the family. Just as works do not earn us our salvation, our adoption is not something to earn. And while we call Jesus our Savior, adoptive parents must not think they are “rescuing their poor children”. The adoption itself creates a whole new list of issues that can’t ever really be considered a rescue mission.
4. I wish someone had warned me about how mean others would be but that it wasn’t my fault. Kids, to a certain degree, get a pass since their life experience and maturity mean they sometimes ask things in a way that is not intended to be hurtful. However, there were a lot of times kids and adults made fun of me and my sister for things based on race. Laughing at the flatness of my nose because it would make wearing glasses more difficult later in life. Laughing at my eyes and pulling on their own as if the slant of my eyes was some kind of joke. Laughing at the food I was sure to have eaten by calling it gook food (that was from a family member). I felt embarrassed and ashamed of who I was. I somehow believed I should apologize for being different, instead of angry about others’ unprovoked cruelty.
5. I wish someone would have broken out of the mainstream to create a movie, a book, a magazine, something and been a role model that young Asian Americans could look up to at a time when there was literally nothing. Do you want to know what your child feels on an almost daily basis? Try finding a social situation in which you and maybe one other person are the only ones of your race. Now imagine that’s your life every day and you’ll begin to understand. There was a long period of time (think well into adulthood) that I was more comfortable in a situation in which everyone was Caucasian than in one in which others looked like me. Odd? Not if you remember the way I grew up.
My list goes on. If I’m invited back, I’ll share more of them. They have become more apparent to me as I have become a parent myself. Thinking of myself at the stages they have reached makes me question so much. I wish I knew who to ask.
8 comments:
Wonderful post! Thank you for sharing so openly!
I agree. I am so thankful for her perspective. I have to admit that it had me in tears. Lots to learn....
Thank you for sharing and please keep doing so. As I raise my daughters I want our house to be open, transparent and honest in all ways, but most importantly about their lives before they came to live with us. We have the unique situation of knowing their family (I have a hard time calling them birth family as they are simply "family" to me). Even though they are little now, we talk about their mama and their baba, and their grandfather and grandmother, and their cousins, and aunts and uncles. We try to make it open now, so they will always be comfortable knowing they have two families, and that they know they can ask anything, and have the space to share anything...whatever their emotions, hearts are at the moment about their adoption. I still have so many mixed feelings about their adoption honestly, because we lived in their country for 4 years. It was really hard leaving, all of us saying good bye to their country (I'll never forget that moment as we drove away, tears falling). It felt heart wrenching, and still does, to have take them away in order to give them a family that had the ability to take care of them. Adoption means so many things to me, and when I look into their faces, I see the beauty of their mother and father, of their country and their people, and I know that adoption will mean so many different and harder things to them. I hurt that in adopting them they have lost the connection to their culture, their family, their language... We have made some intentional decisions already to try to make sure that their lives are not only white faces, but it is only a small thing. Anyway, I have really learned so much from adult adoptees (there are so many wonderful voices to learn from), and continue to learn so much. So thank you.
Thank you for sharing your heart with us.
So glad you shared!!! Hearing your struggles and story during our many talks in college helped shape my worldview around adoption. Scott and I had many discussions before we adopted about what we would and would not want to do in part based on your story! We knew not only did we want Roman to feel he could come to us at anytime and ask us ANY question but that we wanted him to not only know us and our love but his birthparents stories as well. But I'm not sure I ever expressed how gratefull I was to you about it - THANK YOU!!!!
So glad you shared!!! Hearing your struggles and story during our many talks in college helped shape my worldview around adoption. Scott and I had many discussions before we adopted about what we would and would not want to do in part based on your story! We knew not only did we want Roman to feel he could come to us at anytime and ask us ANY question but that we wanted him to not only know us and our love but his birthparents stories as well. But I'm not sure I ever expressed how gratefull I was to you about it - THANK YOU!!!!
this is beautiful and brave. Thank you for posting, and thank her for sharing!
Thanks so much for sharing! I especially appreciated your third point...it is easy to slip into the "savior mentality" and completely prideful, ugly and destructive to children who are already struggling with feelings of abandonment and rejection. I'm praying for continued healing as you parent yourself now...it's so great that you are asking questions and desire to process...but not easy.
Post a Comment