Being the black daughter of white lesbian moms, is basically like having ADOPTED written on your forehead. The constant, curious stares of strangers on the sidewalk, the probing questions of the perplexed person in the checkout line and even the “jokes” from friends and family, served to remind me that my family was always on display. My identity as a transracial adoptee was hyper-visible. Ironically, as a child, invisibility robbed me of families like mine in the media or popular culture. As I entered my teenage years into adulthood, I noticed a new type of invisibility. Where were the transracial adult adoptees’ voices in conversations about adoption and within the adoption community?
I quickly learned however, it was not a LACK of voices; it was a lack of listening to said voices. Decisions like NPR’swhen producing a segment on transracial adoption where despite interviewing an ADULT adoptee, the segment aired with only the voice of a white adoptive parent with young children.