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Adoption and Child Separation at the Border

On June 1, 2018 Rebekah Henson published an important thread on Twitter critiquing the hashtags #FamiliesBelongTogether and #Ke...

Saturday, May 28, 2016

Damaged Goods

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As I grew older, I was sometimes told and often heard that adoptees would be similar to damaged goods, that relationship as girlfriend and boyfriend would be difficult and that it would be potentially challenging for a spouse if they ever married an adult adoptee (especially transracial adoptee). I really dislike these prejudices sure they my be true-for some but than again doesn't everyone have their own share of personal struggles in life, everyone has as far as I know.  Not too long ago an AP told me that I shouldn't spend my time on things I cannot change instead, they advised me I should spend it on my birth family. Same person also told me parents are humans that make mistakes. Clearly this person didn't hear what I was saying or rather they didn't want to listen to what I had to say. 


I will not deny that there may be specific issues that some adult adoptees stuggle with as they go through life. First, the feeling of never feeling good enough, a lack of self worth. Second, abandonment issues and fear of rejection. Those are issues that adoptees may face however they are not an issue every adoptee struggles with, just as well as non adopted person may have a hard time dealing with the exact thing.


(Dear adult adoptees - male adoptees too) Therefore, I can assure you that no, you're not unlovable or unworthy, you are just as precious as anyone else because there are no other person extcly like you. You are unique never forget that. Sure enough I had my shares of challenges related to my own adoption, but no I am not unlovable - I never was. Someone recently assured me of the fact that I am in fact worthy of love and I deserve to be loved. There's no need for me to change or censor myself, why should it be... Anyone who claims you need to change to see the error of your ways are not anyone I would be inclined to call my fiend and I should have to so I don't.

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I was searching for a male father figure to heal my wounds and by doing this it it would be just as my Korean father apologized to me. The thing is though that I don't need to search for that kind of recognition - not anymore. Yet, perhaps it is easier for another adoptee to understand each others personal emotional struggles so maybe it does not come as big surprise that many end up up with another adoptee.

I know I used to say things like I'd never settle down and I would never marry and definitely not have an children. Things change as we develop and journey through life that's all I can say. So never say never or you might get exactly what you think you want. That day, the day I say never would be here has proven to be closer in time than I ever imagined.....


I am really not convinced I am in a position that would enable me to confidently raise a child in a proper way... That has to with the fact that I still love, or no I have in fact, always loved my birthfamily. The society I was raised acts like it is strange... Sometimes society has expected me to be kind and grateful towards my APs. In translation my birthfamily search might only destroy the woman that raised me. I even remember a teacher I had in High School, that acted really inappropriately towards me, it was really not her place to take her own insecurites and worries out of on me. Simply because she acted out of her own fear, as an adoptive parent not a teacher. She tried her best to reason with me, she did not want me to search for my birthfamily which I understood was her way to deal with her own situation.

Fortunately for me my APs supported my decision and my will to search...

I still find it difficult to deal with how I appropriate handle and display my loyality and unconditional love towards one family without hurting the other. There is no justice when it comes to birth family reunions' for adoptees, the APs or the birthfamilies...





Thursday, May 26, 2016

We were never meant to survive.

My heart ripped apart at the news of a young, Black, transracial adoptee sexually assaulted by white boys after enduring previous incidents of abuse in school.

The ranks of our sisterhood took life. The brunt of this hit all of us, but my sisters of color … we were triggered and floored again.



In recent months, I have been coming to terms with a sexual assault some 30 years ago. I was silent and scared. Someday, I hope to write more fully on what I remember. But this recent incident has jarred me. I have torn that wound open again so that the puss can finally flow, and I bleed.

I stare at this bloody mess from afar … as though it isn’t me. “It doesn’t hurt anymore,” I have told myself. I can handle it. I brought it all on myself.

But reading the news story, the adoptee’s initial hope that he would get some form of acceptance … a hug … the puss of our racist society enflames the wound. Anger wells up inside me. Anger at myself for never sharing. Anger at myself for not speaking louder as white voices shush me and ask me to calm down. I can no longer “be resilient” as a young boy becomes a victim of the violence from white hands. Why should we be “survivors”?

Who am I protecting? The adoption industry that places adoptees in white communities? Parents’ delicate egos? White fragility?

Parents are moving their transracial adoptees further from those who could help them form their identity. Our biological heritage should not be denied or whitened. Our bodies are not toys for racists to do as they choose. Nor should our black and brown bodies be trivialized by one woman who chose to use our term, “transracial,” to secure her fame and book deal.

Will Rachel Dolezal now address the pain of this transracial boy? Was her life filled with this abuse?

Transracial adoptees have lived in silence for too long. We kept appearances … for our parents, for our adoptive families, for ourselves. It was a matter of self preservation. I have blamed my face, my body, my unknown culture for my “resilience.”

No. More.


Feminist columnist, Rosita Gonz├ílez is a transracial, Korean-American adoptee. She is married to a Brit and is a mother to two multiracial children. Rosita was adopted in 1968 at the age of one through Holt International. Her road has been speckled with Puerto Rican and Appalachian relatives and her multiracial sister, the natural child of her adoptive parents. While quite content with her role as a “Tennerican,” her curiosity has grown recently as her children explore their own ethnic identities. She considers herself a lost daughter, not only because of the loss of her first family, but also because of the loss of her adoptive parents. After her adoptive father’s death, she discovered that he had fathered a Korean son two years before her birth; she is searching for him. Rosita recently returned to the United States after a five-month stint in Seoul, South Korea with her family and their three cats. Follow her adventures as an adoptee on her blog, mothermade.

Tuesday, May 10, 2016

Happy Relinquishment!

Shocking, right? How could I say such a thing to anyone?

Well, the words, “Happy Birthday!” feel that way to me. That joyous day when we all celebrate our entry into the world … that day eludes me.

My entry into the world was May 24, 1968, the day my baby self appeared at a police station and was immediately taken to the adoption agency …


Each “Happy Birthday!” or the simple question on a form that asks “Birthdate?” slaps me into my reality. I am severed from knowing my past before my six-month-old founding.

Currently, in Indiana, a non-profit has installed a baby box. I understand the good intentions, but sometimes, good intentions disregard the lives of those involved, those little ones without a voice.

In the recent press coverage, a woman stands next to the box, smiling broadly. Her smile seems to mock me. I realize that is not her intention. But just a little thought … research … questioning of Chinese adoptees or other Korean adoptees who were “abandoned” is all I ask. Perhaps, if she understood the impact of the box, she would have thought differently about placing herself in the picture.

If the baby box appears in your feed, please take a moment and comment with a link to this post.

This box is a violation of the baby’s human rights. The United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child, November 1989, article 8, states the following:
  1. States Parties undertake to respect the right of the child to preserve his or her identity, including nationality, name and family relations as recognized by law without unlawful interference. 
  2. Where a child is illegally deprived of some or all of the elements of his or her identity, States Parties shall provide appropriate assistance and protection, with a view to re-establishing speedily his or her identity.
Let’s work for all children to be able to enjoy that date in their life where they feel special … their birthday. Everyone deserves to have a birth story and a record of a birthdate. Let’s not rob future generations of this basic human right.



Feminist columnist, Rosita Gonz├ílez is a transracial, Korean-American adoptee. She is married to a Brit and is a mother to two multiracial children. Rosita was adopted in 1968 at the age of one through Holt International. Her road has been speckled with Puerto Rican and Appalachian relatives and her multiracial sister, the natural child of her adoptive parents. While quite content with her role as a “Tennerican,” her curiosity has grown recently as her children explore their own ethnic identities. She considers herself a lost daughter, not only because of the loss of her first family, but also because of the loss of her adoptive parents. After her adoptive father’s death, she discovered that he had fathered a Korean son two years before her birth; she is searching for him. Rosita recently returned to the United States after a five-month stint in Seoul, South Korea with her family and their three cats. Follow her adventures as an adoptee on her blog, mothermade.