Was it best for me to be adopted?

I was having this train of thought the other day:

I wonder who my Omma (Korean birth mother) and Appa (Korean birth father) might have become had they been given the same opportunities that I have been given? And then, I started thinking about what might have happened had I grown up in the same circumstances in which they had grown up? Or what my life might have been had I grown up with them as my parents in the situations they faced?

And automatically my mind started to veer onto the track of "See, it's a good thing you were adopted. Look at all you have because you were adopted. So, maybe it was best that you were adopted out of Korea to America."

But then I stopped, and thought some more--about the true causes, the root causes of my adoption, and I was able to steer back onto the path of reality.

The truth is that we have no concrete way of knowing what might have been had I stayed with my Korean family--for better or for worse. And the reality is that it is not adoption that gave me all these so-called "good things." And it is not adoption that "saved" me. 

Rather the truth is that it is social injustice and inequality that took away the good things from not only me, but from my Omma and from my Appa. It is the truth that part of the cause of this social injustice and inequality is that so much of the so-called grown-up world is still so unwilling to apply the basic practice we adamantly try to teach our children--to share.

And the reality is that had my Omma and Appa been given similar opportunities as I have been--if others had been willing to share with not only me but also with my Omma and Appa, and we all three had been "adopted" as a family that perhaps all three of us could have ended up with these "good things." I say perhaps. I am not so naive as to romanticize what could have been--but in the same way, I do not think it is fair or accurate to say that being adopted gave me a better life than what I would have had if I had remained with my Omma and Appa. We simply cannot know this for sure.

And when I say "good things" in this context, I'm not talking about material things. I'm talking about the opportunity to be a family, the opportunity to love one another, to hold onto one another, the opportunity to endure and overcome together as a family, to learn to thrive and grow as a family. The material things are only a substrate on which these things can grow, but they certainly are not the fruit itself. And you certainly don't need much as far as material means to be a family and love one another.

And the truth is that eventually, my Omma and Appa did seize these opportunities. They both have their own families now in Korea, which I find terribly ironic and surreal at times. 

Yet they both are still haunted and grieved, just as am I, by the fact that we were separated so long ago and that we still remain separated--not because we did not want to be together but because no one was willing to help us stay together when hard times came.

My point is, of course, that the answer to my situation and countless others is not "it was best for you to be adopted." The answer to families being torn apart is not international adoption, but rather social justice.

The other thought that emerged from my initial thought questions the standards by which we tend to qualify and identify a "successful adoption."

Ultimately, if an adoptee has a good career, makes good money, and overall appears to have a good material life, then we say, "Look, see, here is a successful adoptee! Look what adoption did for this adoptee!" How can you question that? But of course, I'm going to question it.

Why are these the measures by which we proclaim success? Because, as we all know, a person can have every appearance of "success" when seen from without. But what about from within? What if within that adoptee is dying? What if from within that adoptee is hurting and grieving? What if within that adoptee feels confused, torn, conflicted, tormented? Then what do you say?

Or what if an adoptee does not achieve these standards of worldly success? Are they failures in your eyes? Have they fallen short of the "opportunities" given to them?

And who is to say that if that same adoptee and his or her family were given the same opportunities, but in their country of origin that they all would not have been just as successful, with the added, more significant success that they would have all remained together as a family?

We think that it is America that gives all these good things. We think that it is America that gives a unique, unequaled love and environment in which adopted people can grow and thrive and succeed.

No. It's not America. America is not the only one who can give good things.

But rather the problem is what Dr. Paul Farmer has stated before, "The idea that some lives matter less is the root of all that's wrong with the world."

These other countries, these other families can give good things also, just as well as does America, if not better in some ways. They can provide just as equally the same love and environment in which these children can thrive and succeed. If only their lives would matter as much to us, to you. If only they would be given the same chance and opportunity that we have given to one another. But for some reason, America thinks it can do it better. America thinks it is the only who can get it right. And so, we say, "See, you should be grateful you were adopted to America."

As far as I know, America is not the only place that has loving, hard-working, trustworthy, decent people. America just likes to think so.

My point with all this is to say that assessing the success of adoption by standards of outward appearance and affluence is folly, to say the least. And to think because America is fat with affluence and outward appearance that America is entitled to adopt internationally is blind and shameful sanctimony.

The social inequality and injustice that led to me being relinquished and adopted are not reasons to continue to perpetuate modern adoption practices, or reasons to tell me, "See, it was best for you to be adopted!" Rather they are reasons to question and challenge current adoption practices.

In adoption, we tell ourselves that we are thinking about the children and what is best for them. But I don't know that we really are. Rather, I think we confirm our biases, and somehow convince ourselves that we are thinking about what is best for the children. If we truly believe that love is the most important, defining quality of family (that's what adoptive parents say all the time), then it's time we apply that thinking in the other direction--to the original families as well.

I certainly don't have all the answers, and I'm not saying that adoption should never be an option.

I am saying, please do not use my story, our stories as posters and flyers to pronounce, "See it was best for you to be adopted." Do not oversimplify the complex realities that lead to relinquishment, in order to justify adoption in your mind. Rather, look at the story as a whole--all the characters involved, including the original family and country, all the circumstances and factors at play.

Then you will be able to ask the questions that really matter, that really get to the root. I've stated this before as have many other adult adoptee bloggers. And we'll keep saying it until people finally start to not only listen but to act.

The question to ask yourself is not what are all the good reasons for adoption to continue? Or whether it was best for me to be adopted?

Instead, I believe, the question to answer is WHY are children being relinquished and adopted in the first place?

The answers are complicated but absolutely necessary to face.

Then, perhaps, you'll see the potential reality of who not only my Omma and Appa and I could have been, but who all these other families could have been, if someone had been willing to ask those questions long ago...

The Lost Daughters Discuss The Child Catchers by Kathryn Joyce - Part Three of a Series

Today we continue our discussion of the new book by investigative journalist Kathryn Joyce,  The Child Catchers: Rescue, Trafficking, and the New Gospel of Adoption. If you missed the previous installments in this series, you can read them here:

• Part 1: God's will and the moral imperative to adopt
• Part 2: Domestic adoption and the rebranding of adoption via specific language

In this installment, we focus on orphanages, deception of adoptive and original parents, and coercive tactics employed by the adoption industry. We invite you to join the conversation in the comments following each post.

Karen Pickell:  Let's talk a little more about these orphanages, and particularly about the situation in Ethiopia, which is covered in chapter four. Joyce points out how the demand for adoptable children spawns new "orphanages" that do not even exist before U.S. adoption agencies descend on these impoverished countries searching for kids to send back to waiting American families. I was saddened to learn of the Ethiopian government's role in perpetuating the criminal activity of procuring children to be sent overseas by demanding humanitarian aid from the adoption agencies, amounting to $3.7 million annually. There was such a strong financial incentive to keep this business going.

Rebecca Hawkes:  Yes, Karen, and also a financial incentive for agencies to try to stay in business, even if that meant hopping from country to country and engaging in unethical practices. “’Corruption skips from one unprepared country to the another—until that country gets wise, changes its laws, and corrupt adoptions shift to the next unprepared nation,’ wrote journalist E. J. Graff, who researched international adoption corruption for several years at the Schuster Institute for Investigative Journalism at Brandeis University." There's a huge money factor, and it comes into play in so many ways.

Lynn Grubb:  I was quite shocked to learn of this, Karen. But it makes sense. Families hear the rumors that the neighbor's kids are going to the U.S. for an education and other families jump on the bandwagon and put their "orphans" in "orphanages" for opportunities. Sadly, they don't even fully understand that they are relinquishing their rights forever. That is so wrong to me.

Rebecca:  I'd also like to highlight the point that the book makes about prospective adoptive parents' wish lists (wanting a young child, a female child, etc.) driving demand, creating an underworld in which children are procured to fill the orders. It's chilling to think of it this way, but the money coming into poor countries from U.S. adopters and agencies is a huge influence. Corruption is bound to happen in such circumstances.

I agree, Lynn. So wrong!

Susan Perry:  The money factor drives the business, and adoption is a subject, unfortunately, that can easily be misrepresented and simplified. Who can argue with the assertion that "every child deserves a loving home?" People don't want to look at the unsettling truths behind the business, either overseas or here.

Rebecca:  And then there are the people like the Bradshaws, American adoptive parents who spoke out about the corruption and lies they encountered and faced strong retribution, almost losing their own bio kids as a result of speaking out. Scary.

Lynn:  Yes, Rebecca. I recall somebody receiving death threats as well. Big money in adoption.

Rebecca:  Chilling.

This book has certainly stimulated a strong sense of outrage in me!

Karen P.:  Lynn, this truth that our western idea of adoption is not understood in these countries is pointed out repeatedly in the book. How awful that parents are sending their kids off thinking they're getting a chance at a good education, only to later learn that they've lost their children forever? As I read about Haiti back in chapter two, I kept thinking, "How do these adoptive parents live with themselves once they learn what they've really done?" I was pleased to find Joyce interviewing adoptive parents of some of the Ethiopian children in chapter four. One mother, Jessie Hawkins, says, "Finding out that you have someone else's child simply because you happen to have been born in a country where you're more privileged than they are? You want to throw up, you don't know what to do." Many of these adoptive parents are also being scammed by the agencies. I was a little confused, though, by the story of the Bradshaws, who discovered their adopted children were not really orphans and wanted to return them to their family in Ethiopia, but couldn't for some legal reason that wasn't clearly explained. I do wish Joyce would have made it clear why these children could not be reunited with their families. I was left wondering whether the Bradshaws really did everything they could have to get these kids back where they belonged.

Yes, Rebecca, the way their agency turned on the Bradshaws was very scary.

Carlynne Hershberger:  I questioned that aspect of it too, Karen. She says several times that it would be illegal for the child to be sent back. How can that be? The whole idea that people would mislead a family to think they're simply giving their child an education opportunity while all along taking the child away permanently just sickens me to the core. I don't understand a human who could do that.

The Lost Daughters Discuss The Child Catchers by Kathryn Joyce - Part Two of a Series

Today we continue our discussion of the new book by investigative journalist Kathryn Joyce,  The Child Catchers: Rescue, Trafficking, and the New Gospel of Adoption. Yesterday, we talked about God's will in adoption and the moral imperative to adopt.

In this installment, we focus on domestic adoption and the rebranding of adoption via specific language. We invite you to join the conversation in the comments following each post.

Lynn Grubb:  As we have seen in the history of adoption (Orphan Trains, Georgia Tann in Tennessee, and currently in all the countries who have closed to international adoption) there is a theme. The theme is exploiting the poor, the young, and the ignorant (as in they don't even know what U.S. adoption actually is because it doesn't translate into their language or culture) . . . the common theme being resources. The families who took in the orphans from the Orphan Trains many times used the children as indentured servants, similar to what we saw in this book. Georgia Tann was in cahoots with a local Judge and together they made untold amounts of money off wealthier adoptive parents. Many children were stolen, as outlined in the book. I personally believe (and I am a Catholic and a Christian) that Christianity within the "Orphan Crisis" is being used as a smoke screen to convince many-times naive, decent adoptive parents to spend years dealing with an international system which is clearly corrupt at this point under the guise of doing God's work. Some of these families believe what they are doing is right. But I suspect a broader political motive behind Rick Warren's church and the movement itself.

Karen Pickell:  Lynn, I also had the sense that this movement belies a broader push for political power that would reach into other areas of society as well. And, of course, there are huge profits to be made. Near the end of chapter three, Joyce mentions a 2010 investigation of Bethany Christian Services—the largest adoption agency in the U.S.—that found “$8.4 million out of Bethany’s $9.1 million total budget went to management costs or fundraising” rather than to services benefiting children, which explains why they and other agencies so frequently try to push young, expectant women toward relinquishing their babies to adoption. This chapter hit close to home with me; my own mother received no support to keep me from either her family or Catholic Charities due to her being a young teenager at the time. That was back in 1968, but even today once one of these agencies get their claws into a young woman, the goal is to convince her to relinquish rather than to help her find a way to raise her child. This quote from Reanne, a birth mother profiled in chapter three, sums it up: “I could have taken care of my child easily. I wasn’t on drugs or an alcoholic. I was just young.”

Rebecca Hawkes:  I'm glad you mentioned Reanne. She's been much on my mind. I found her story to be particularly poignant, no doubt in large part because I too am the daughter of a mother who was simply "young." The coercion that Reanne experienced during her pregnancy was familiar but heartbreaking. (“’Everything is so negative and subtle, and it starts to work on you,’ said Reanne. ‘I felt like I was walking around with a baby that wasn’t mine. I was a birthmother before the child was born.’”) Also, as I read about her actions through the years in her attempts to reconnect with her son and re-open an adoption that had closed, I was aware that she was that nightmare "birthmom" that so many adoptive and prospective adoptive parents fear, the one who won't go away and even shows up on the doorstep, so it was good to get that story from her perspective. It's noteworthy that although Reanne acknowledges the harmful impact of a religiously affiliated organization that orchestrated her relinquishment, she herself maintained and even deepened her own faith. It's a significant moment for her when an evangelical preacher tells her, "That child was taken from you . . . They said you weren’t good enough. This is what religion has done over and over." For us, as readers, it's an important reminder that not all evangelical Christians are blind to the harmful impact of current adoption practices. I think it's important for readers of this round table to understand that we're not engaging in Christian-bashing or evangelical-bashing. We need to be able to look critically at certain harmful practices, especially when they have become widespread and are being cloaked in religious garb, but that's not the same as indicting an entire religion or group of people. One of the things I've found especially encouraging since this book's publication is the number of Christian bloggers and writers who are coming forward to essentially say, "This is a difficult and controversial book but we shouldn't just dismiss it without reading it and discussing it. There are things in here that we need to be discussing."

Carlynne Hershberger:  As a mother who lost a child to adoption, I can say that I had the same experience as Reanne but through Catholic Social Services in 1980. One part I highlighted in the book: "’If you want to look at what's wrong with international adoption, state adoption, and Christian adoption,’ one agency director told me, ‘it all has to do with how they treat birthmothers. The common denominator in all of these is that the birthmother is invisible.’"

I agree, we're not here to bash any particular religion or people of faith. It's the system that is wrong.

It is good to see the Christian writers acknowledging that something has to change and being open to discussion but it's distressing to see the people who claim to be Christians out and out lying about their role in the industry. In one part of the book Joyce talks about Jim Wright and Birthmothers—aka Birthmother Ministries on Facebook. I spoke with Jim personally. We had a long phone conversation where I asked him repeatedly about the role of his ministry and adoption, and he claimed that they were not at all focused on adoption. Yet, he is quoted in the book as saying "The reason we use 'birthmothers' as our name is because it connotes adoption." And he says, "That's how Birthmothers came to be: because we go to adopt, and we can't get anybody to do a homestudy." In my conversation with him, he stressed that they don't push adoption and could only speak about his own experience as an adoptive father.

Rebecca:  Also, we've mentioned it already, but the numbers manipulation comes up again in this section of the book, as when a Christian crisis pregnancy ministry argues that all children born to single mothers in the United States are orphans because the biblical definition of an orphan is a fatherless child. "If 43 percent of the six million babies born that year were born to unwed mothers, the ministry reasoned, 'that means 2.6 million new orphans last year!'" Excuse me? I find the redefinition of "orphan," in both domestic and international contexts, to be frighteningly Orwellian. "Birthmothers." "Orphans." The language choices are deliberate and manipulative. "Orphan" tugs at the heart strings and obscures the fact that we are primarily talking about children who already have parents . . . just not the "right" parents in the eyes of the orphan-crisis movement.

Mila:  Wow. This is a great discussion. As a Korean adoptee, although I do not adhere to the Korean brands of Buddhism or Confucianism, it has been so enlightening to learn about the history of these religions/philosophies and how they have affected the family (and ultimately, adoption) culture in Korea. I state this to say that I agree that it can be very valuable to expose adopted children to the religions/philosophies of their origins.

One of the things that has stood out most to me thus far in The Child Catchers is the "rebranding" of "birth mother" that Joyce discusses on pages 114-117: "Based on this research, Young suggested a new CPC communications strategy that would 'chip away at those associations and establish new ones,' presenting adoption as an expression of birthmothers' selfless love as well as a means of redemption—a way for mothers to 'defeat selfishness, an evil within themselves.'" I found this disturbing and disgusting. A so-called Christian organization hired a marketing company that describes itself as studying consumers' "subconscious emotional motivators" so that companies can "leverage their brands as never before." Talk about manipulation. This is sickening. I think this decision to "rebrand" birth mothers was pivotal (in a very bad way) for the adoption movement. And it's ubiquitous now in the adoption community. Completely takes advantage of the emotions of women dealing with unplanned pregnancies or otherwise. Reading about this made me want to fight some people!

The Lost Daughters Discuss The Child Catchers by Kathryn Joyce - Part One of a Series

Today we begin a series of posts about the controversial new book by investigative journalist Kathryn Joyce,  The Child Catchers: Rescue, Trafficking, and the New Gospel of Adoption. Joyce's work has appeared in top-notch publications such as Mother Jones and The Atlantic, and she's been awarded numerous residencies and fellowships. A previous book, Quiverfull: Inside the Christian Patriarchy Movement, was published in 2009. The Child Catchers takes us inside the evangelical Christian adoption movement, exposing the corruption of the so-called "orphan crisis" and of the adoption industry in general through rigorous research and numerous heartbreaking personal narratives.

In lieu of a traditional book review, we have decided to read the book together and discuss it book-club style. We are all adopted women, several of us are adoptive mothers as well, and one of us is also a mother who lost a child to adoption. You can learn more about our individual connections to adoption on our contributor's page. This week we discuss the first half of The Child Catchers, through chapter four, and next week we will talk about the second half. We have a lot to say, so grab a cup of coffee or a glass of wine, and settle in. And we invite you to join the conversation via the comments at the end of each post.

Our first installment deals with the concept of God's will as it pertains to adoption and the moral imperative to adopt.

Karen Pickell:  Joyce hits us hard beginning with the preface where we meet Sharon, who already has seven biological children when she decides to adopt three more. After those adoptions, she is still not satisfied that she’s done all she “should” do to fulfill her Christian obligation to orphan care, and seeks to adopt more children. As I read her story, I couldn't help putting myself in the shoes of all those kids and wondering how they could possibly be getting the attention they need when Sharon was always so focused on obtaining the next child. How did you all react to Sharon’s story?

I personally find Sharon and others like her to be repulsively selfish, because their focus is not on helping any particular child but rather on their own ticket into heaven, their own “holiness,” if you will. This religious zeal is discussed later in the book as well, and it angers me that these kids are being used to fill a quota of “lives saved” for these parents and sometimes for entire congregations.

The other thing that struck me about Sharon’s story is that the huge demand for adoptable children stems less from infertile couples than from this religious quest. I feel like I’ve had my head in the sand in a way, maybe because I’m a Baby Scoop adoptee whose parents adopted due to infertility so that’s the reality I’m most familiar with and have learned the most about. This book is causing me to broaden my perspective in huge ways, which is a good thing.

Carlynne Hershberger:  I also was repulsed by Sharon and her attitude but I also felt like there was a compulsion similar to obsessive behavior. These children were like projects to her. It's almost like a hobby she became obsessed with—hoarding children. I knew about the religious aspect of the call to adoption for Christians but had NO idea the size and scope of it. I'm finding that aspect to be horrifying and scary.

Deanna Shrodes:  I know individuals who have unexpectedly become pregnant, and were in a situation of already being overwhelmed with many children in the home and had concern about how they were going to give each child the attention they deserve. In such situations I've witnessed God's grace at work and strength granted to meet the needs of the children. However, I strongly believe that to purposely plan whether through birth or adoption to have additional children when you are not adequately caring for the ones you already have is not only unwise but tragic. When someone has made such a decision it is most certainly for the wrong motivations and, of course, never centers around the child.

Julie Stromberg:  Several thoughts came to mind while considering Sharon's story. There seemed to be such a lack of depth and self-awareness that came across to me as being somewhat childlike and elitist at the same time. This was a recurring theme throughout the book. Sharon felt that the God she believes in was entirely on her side so there was no need to actually investigate or take a more critical look at the adoption industry. Which confused me because the scripture verse Sharon posted as inspiration to her adoption blog reads "help the widows and the orphans." Many of those involved in the Christian Adoption Movement ignore the "widows" part of the verse and focus only on the orphans. I agree with Karen in that Sharon presented as someone who was taking on some sort of religious project designed to position herself at a higher level within her chosen religious community. The needs of the actual adoptee are inconsequential because Sharon hides behind the "it's God's will" wall of thought. It's magical thinking shrouded in religious dogma. And that can be dangerous for the well-being of a child adopted by Sharon and others who take a similar approach.