tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27322691669891797062024-03-17T11:50:11.330-04:00Lost DaughtersA collaborative project of female writers, blogging about adoption from a place of empowerment and peace.The Declassified Adopteehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726376584015902627noreply@blogger.comBlogger673125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-80672104852830930242021-03-25T00:52:00.001-04:002021-03-25T00:52:44.307-04:00Out of the Shadows: An Adoptee Perspective on "American Baby" by Gabrielle Glaser<p style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/556488/american-baby-by-gabrielle-glaser/" target="_blank"><b><i></i></b></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/556488/american-baby-by-gabrielle-glaser/" target="_blank"><b><i><br /></i></b></a></div><a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/556488/american-baby-by-gabrielle-glaser/" target="_blank"><b><i><br /></i></b></a><b><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/556488/american-baby-by-gabrielle-glaser/" target="_blank"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhB1UaGxPh4a26JwhCYpHA6K93Lre56VjNiuv92AN5Q4QPMuPNm7HyutS0UXt-7TeEHWNEn2RN_-L0ffttxUVhvsZshO242-IMeTKBLU9OAW8wswFghja_MxgyJ1AFqH57HLkD6jdHjjw/s1300/newborn-baby.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="737" data-original-width="1300" height="369" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhB1UaGxPh4a26JwhCYpHA6K93Lre56VjNiuv92AN5Q4QPMuPNm7HyutS0UXt-7TeEHWNEn2RN_-L0ffttxUVhvsZshO242-IMeTKBLU9OAW8wswFghja_MxgyJ1AFqH57HLkD6jdHjjw/w653-h369/newborn-baby.jpg" width="653" /></a></div><br />American Baby</i></b> is a new non-fiction book about the history of closed adoption in the United States that takes a critical look about adoption in America. The book has received high praise and has been reviewed widely. <i><a href="Tells a singular story to illuminate a universal truth.”–The New York Times Book Review"><span style="color: #0b5394;">The New York Times Book Review</span></a></i> described it as "a singular story to tell a universal truth." <b><i>But I wanted to review the book from the perspective of an adoptee.</i></b> Because I have been reading and writing about adoption for years, I was curious what we, the adoption constellation, would think of the book.<br /><br />First of all, I was surprised to find that the author, Gabrielle Glaser, is <i>not</i> part of the adoption triad herself. Most of the books I've read about adoption were written by adoptees. A notable exception is <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Lost-Child-Philomena-Lee-Fifty-Year-ebook/dp/B005GUYWYE"><i><span style="color: #0b5394;">The Lost Child of Philomena Lee</span></i></a>, which was written by a journalist who helped a mother find the child that the Church had forcibly taken from her and sold into adoption. Glaser was inspired by the story, and curious about how what similarities that adoption in America might have had.<p style="text-align: left;"></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2sDx0_LnSp-LBbjTDPtOxHcn-SGscROjBvWvJ44PzgpKgJ5y4jnLbkIMyVIUYzCxoivNahFYqq8vweI5gwcUjSGnQnW790yvJUZqNkYC1xqby9XeZiu98Ud3nVEQm4X4ilsUSXNeF6aU/s200/american-baby.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="200" data-original-width="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2sDx0_LnSp-LBbjTDPtOxHcn-SGscROjBvWvJ44PzgpKgJ5y4jnLbkIMyVIUYzCxoivNahFYqq8vweI5gwcUjSGnQnW790yvJUZqNkYC1xqby9XeZiu98Ud3nVEQm4X4ilsUSXNeF6aU/s0/american-baby.jpg" /></a></div>In <i><b>American Baby</b></i>, Glaser uses the story of an adoptee she had befriended and his original parents as a jumping off point to illustrate the bigger story of the history of the adoption in the United States. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">While recounting the tragic story of his birthmother who was forced to relinquish and the horrible treatment she received from the adoption agency and her family, Glaser interweaves the history of adoption in America throughout the book. She focuses on the baby-scoop era—a term and period that still isn't well-known to people outside of the adoption community. She reveals how the history of sealed birth records was based on a woman who was intentionally hiding the identities of the mothers so she could steal and sell the babies to rich adoptive parents. She not only validates the trauma to the adoptees and the birthmother, but also reveals that the agencies who pitched adoptions as a noble act that's best for everyone involved also knew of the emotional damage it caused. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">What was perhaps the most inspiring, is that Glaser makes a strong case for the adoptees civil right to have their original birth certificates. And finally, she makes the connection of children of sperm donors to being faced with similar issues to the children of closed adoption. By the end of the book, I was convinced that she is a true ally. She wasn't speaking over us or taking away from our voices, she was just telling our story in a historical context. She was putting the facts out naked and exposed for the reader to judge for themselves.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">There were a few things that were missed. She didn't mention that adoptees attempt suicide four times more than people who weren't adopted, a statistic that haunts me and that seems like the most obvious case for open records. I would have also liked to hear more about the experience of the adoptee at the center of the book, her friend David. While she does mention his curiosity about his first family and some of the challenges he faced, the story of his birthmother was so tragic that it overshadowed his experience. But I wonder if maybe he himself ever got to fully realize the impact that adoption had on him. And her stories about the adoption reform movement implied a mainstream presence, when I feel like they are still very much under the radar of general society.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">For me, as an adoptee, it was the anecdotes about the adoption industry that I found the most interesting—and chilling. Without protection, relinquished children were easy objects for experimentation. Glaser wrote of one study where researchers shot rubber bands at newborns' feet. In another, they separated twins (or, in some cases, triplets like in <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt7664504/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i>Three Identical Strangers</i></span></a>) to study them for reasons that are hidden and unobtainable. Another use for babies was as living dolls in college Home Ec classes. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">While anyone reading about these situations would be horrified, reading it from the perspective of an adoptee made them very personal. What had <i>I</i> experienced? Had I been experimented on, neglected, abused? There were weeks (or was it months?) between when I was born and when I went to my adoptive home. I don't know where I was or who took care of me. It's a life in limbo where you are most vulnerable and utterly alone. <br /><br />Looking at a picture of me as a baby, I'm struck by how much I look like my son when he was the same age. I'm relieved to know that he will never have to wonder where he was, what happened to him. His history is complete. </div><p style="text-align: left;"></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><p style="text-align: left;">It struck me that perhaps having someone from outside the adopted constellation can tell our story in a way where people are more able to listen. For her, it's not personal, it's just horrific. </p><span><b>_________________________________</b></span><div><b><br /></b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN3K1wJzN7bQ-FrFPWD5UbjiNNgtgqM-1kzzXS7j-kSaWkvbsf_zflkg9y46O_NVGe47cxwhnLgBtyHLuOhtImwgq4qYtG5MyntsW1ynLPfSXVKS1JDJdcn2mRKSgtjNWoW0Zq8MGkumQ/s1730/KateCathy23.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1253" data-original-width="1730" height="144" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN3K1wJzN7bQ-FrFPWD5UbjiNNgtgqM-1kzzXS7j-kSaWkvbsf_zflkg9y46O_NVGe47cxwhnLgBtyHLuOhtImwgq4qYtG5MyntsW1ynLPfSXVKS1JDJdcn2mRKSgtjNWoW0Zq8MGkumQ/w200-h144/KateCathy23.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="200" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN3K1wJzN7bQ-FrFPWD5UbjiNNgtgqM-1kzzXS7j-kSaWkvbsf_zflkg9y46O_NVGe47cxwhnLgBtyHLuOhtImwgq4qYtG5MyntsW1ynLPfSXVKS1JDJdcn2mRKSgtjNWoW0Zq8MGkumQ/s1730/KateCathy23.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><p><span style="color: #666666;"><i>Cathy Heslin is a reunited adult adoptee of closed domestic adoption in New Jersey. </i><i>She is a freelance writer with a focus on adoption and reunion. Her most recent work has been in</i><i> a joint project with her birthmother called <a href="http://www.kathleencathleen.com/" target="_blank">Kathleen~Cathleen</a> that includes a memoir (in process), songwriting, music and performance. </i></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p></p></blockquote></blockquote><p style="text-align: left;"><i></i><i></i></p></div>Texthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16508960321983502749noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-86543434107940335302020-09-09T01:37:00.009-04:002020-10-28T15:11:20.228-04:00"Better Times Will Come" (Janis Ian), by an Adoptee and Birthmother<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/TBAVxb1fx84" width="320" youtube-src-id="TBAVxb1fx84"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>This song is "Better Times Will Come," by Janis Ian, sung by my birthmother and myself. Janis Ian wrote the song at the beginning of the pandemic. <a href="https://www.njarts.net/songs-to-see-us-through/janis-ian-makes-her-better-times-project-a-group-effort/">One article</a> described it, "For those of us who are losing sleep, worrying about the death count and financial concerns—and feeling restless from the isolation of social distancing—the song is a welcome relief." The artist shared the song with the world, encouraging others to sing it and share it. She shares the many renditions on her <a href="https://www.facebook.com/janisianpage/">Facebook page</a>. It's been covered by famous artists, out-of-work musicians, and people like us just needing to feel hope right now. <br /><br />The feelings of isolation, yearning to connect with family, and the hope for better times resonated with us as a birthmother and adoptee in reunion. <br /><br />About once a week, my birthmother and I play music together. We've been in reunion over thirty years, since I was eighteen. We now live in the same town, only a few miles apart. Although people on the outside may see our relationship as the ideal of reunion because we are part of each others families and integrated into each other's lives, the truth is that our reunion has been—and will continue to be—a struggle throughout our lives. Reunion means coming to terms with the loss and trauma that is so carefully hidden away in the adoption and relinquishment stories we are told. </div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div><br />Music has always been part of my birthmother's life. Music was like a member of her family, and she went on to become a professional musician. But music was foreign to me. Despite piano lessons when I was young, I just couldn't get past insecurities and doubts. The thought of singing in front of anyone was horrifying. My adoptive parents weren't musical, it just wasn't part of our lives. <br /><br />When I met my birthmother, I wondered if I might have a spark for music myself. But despite being given a guitar by my birth-grandfather, my birthmother and I couldn't quite sync up. I was too shy to learn, she seemed too uncomfortable to teach me. Under the surface, I think it was just too hard. Music brought up what we'd lost in such a concrete way that it was too painful to get too close to. <br /><br />A couple of years ago, we shared our stories of reunion with each other. We'd been working on a book about reunion for years. We wanted to tell the story from each of our points of view, but wouldn't read each other's side until the draft was done. We finally finished the draft and read our story as a whole, and suddenly, that weekend after we read, we were able to play music together. Something that had been forbidden for so long had opened up to us mysteriously, magically. <br /><br />What I heard was strange. I had loved my birthmother's voice but never considered myself a decent singer, so I was shocked to hear our voices were the same as we sang together. Singing in unison, it was impossible to discern whose voice was whose. Singing in harmony was like singing different parts on the same voice. <br /><br />We still hope to finish the book one day, but for now music has been our focus. It's been our primary way of connection, more healing than anything we've ever done and something we both cherish and enjoy. <br /><br />Only now we play music at least six feet apart and outside. But it's something. And it's real. <br /><br />Better times will come. <br /><br /><p><span style="color: #333333; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif; font-size: small;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN3K1wJzN7bQ-FrFPWD5UbjiNNgtgqM-1kzzXS7j-kSaWkvbsf_zflkg9y46O_NVGe47cxwhnLgBtyHLuOhtImwgq4qYtG5MyntsW1ynLPfSXVKS1JDJdcn2mRKSgtjNWoW0Zq8MGkumQ/s1730/KateCathy23.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1253" data-original-width="1730" height="94" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN3K1wJzN7bQ-FrFPWD5UbjiNNgtgqM-1kzzXS7j-kSaWkvbsf_zflkg9y46O_NVGe47cxwhnLgBtyHLuOhtImwgq4qYtG5MyntsW1ynLPfSXVKS1JDJdcn2mRKSgtjNWoW0Zq8MGkumQ/w130-h94/KateCathy23.JPG" width="130" /></a></div><i>Cathy Heslin is a reunited adult adoptee of closed domestic adoption in New Jersey. I've been in reunion with my birthmother for 30 years and with my birthfather for nearly 20. I have been working on a joint project with my birthmother involving a book, blogging, and music called <a href="http://www.kathleencathleen.com/" target="_blank">Kathleen~Cathleen</a>. I am a freelance writer with a focus on adoption, reunion and reconciliation. </i><div></div></div>Texthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16508960321983502749noreply@blogger.comPortland, OR 97213, USA45.5352835 -122.603753617.225047615197578 -157.76000628220902 73.845519384802415 -87.44750091779099tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-87523774747763676942020-09-04T21:24:00.002-04:002020-09-26T14:10:57.324-04:00Getting this MD is my Form of Protest: Being in Medical School During COVID and a Pandemic of Anti-Blackness (Part II)<i><span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGsegoWmlkJCLXaBmG0scD3B625pmCTVUxKzeUHhWGdVqgoJG6C6ah8H1ShUkwKmKh24k_xIHNQ2kqdlpI2FKDcafcc7k2uh7JPEoI63-AREF-r7GjOgA8ldgIGHu5Tb6E_qPwqRK3/s940/Lost.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="788" data-original-width="940" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGsegoWmlkJCLXaBmG0scD3B625pmCTVUxKzeUHhWGdVqgoJG6C6ah8H1ShUkwKmKh24k_xIHNQ2kqdlpI2FKDcafcc7k2uh7JPEoI63-AREF-r7GjOgA8ldgIGHu5Tb6E_qPwqRK3/w411-h344/Lost.png" width="411" /></a></div><br />SPECIAL NOTE: Brittanie is now halfway to her fundraising goal. Please continue to give generously. These funds are needed to help Brittanie afford tutoring so that she can pass her exams to receive her Medical Doctorate. Her Cash App is: $Brittaniefloyd. And, her Venmo is: @Brittanie-Floyd and her PayPal pool can be found here.</span><br /></i>------------<br /><br /><div>By Amanda Transue-Woolston, MSS, LSW</div><div><br /></div><div>"While this year hasn’t been easy for most of us, it has been especially hard on the black community." These words echo in my mind as <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2020/08/meet-black-female-late-discovery.html" target="_blank">I continued the rest of my interview</a> with the incredible Ms. Brittanie Floyd. I had already learned a bit about her adoption story and how it played an important role in her aspirations to become a psychiatrist. Her origin story is one we don't hear of often in the adoption community. The exact circumstances of her story may not be rare. However, late-discovery, same-race, infant adoption surrounding infertility is not a perspective often voiced from the BIPOC adoptee perspective. </div><div><br /></div><div>Her tales of childhood and the nuances and experiences shaped by the United States' history of racial oppression were compelling. I found myself wanting to ask her so many more questions. But, it was time to move forward in the interview and ask Brittanie about who she is today. She is a black female MD candidate with a recent ADHD diagnosis working as an essential worker during two global pandemics of both medical illness and anti-blackness. How does that even work? How does she not only survive but thrive in an exclusive, high-intensity, competitive academic environment? These are just a few aspects of her life that Brittanie and I discussed, next.</div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div><br /></div><div>When I was in social work school, I noticed that a great number of my peers were drawn to the profession and to mental health because of struggles of their own. Wanting to understand myself better was a significant motivator in my own journey to becoming a licensed therapist. Yet Brittanie did not receive her ADHD diagnosis until this year. What was her pull to psychiatry, I wondered.<br /><blockquote><span style="color: #800180;">Psychiatry is a way of helping people heal that is totally different from any other field of medicine. It takes everything into account. Your life experiences, family history, and medical history; psychiatry puts all of it together to help you heal. It is a vital medical specialty that has been written off or seen as taboo for far too long. I want to help people, especially those of color, realize that there is no shame in seeking mental health care. It is just as important as maintaining your blood pressure, and in some cases, it may even be contributing to it!</span></blockquote>Where does Brittanie see herself in this field? I found myself curious to know more about her dreams and desires for delivering her vital services to future patients.</div><div></div><blockquote><div><span style="color: #800180;">Thus far in my medical care career, I have seen far too many mentally ill patients shuffled through the ER department. Once there, they are left alone in a room until someone can get to them.There's no immediate intervention because their illness does not present like other medical illnesses seen in the ER. It is my dream to create a soothing, calm, safe environment where people of all colors, cultures, and social economic groups can receive unbiased professional help.</span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">My dream is to open a psychiatric practice that offers urgent care services after hours as well as maintenance psychiatric care. It is my dream for anyone who may be suffering from a mental illness to have access to empathetic care, around the clock.</span></div></blockquote><div>It was clear to me that this highly empathetic professional was moved by her experiences in medicine thus far. Her desire to build bridges in care and service gaps was palpable. But what is it like getting there? My mind moved from her compassion for others to wondering how she navigates this journey, herself.</div><div><br /></div><div>My medical school journey has been a wild ride. During the year in college when I found out I was adopted, I was taking my pre-med heavy classes. And, as you can expect, I did not do well. I bounced back the best I could, and I graduated from The University of South Carolina (USA) with a BA in experimental psychology. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Brittanie's Medical School Journey</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">After that, I still wanted to be a doctor. I moved to Charlotte, North Carolina, and I worked as a medical tech in an emergency department and at a 24 hour urgent care center. I tutored physiology at Winthrop as a way to pay for my second try at those heavy pre-med classes. It took me two years to complete those prerequisites, and to apply to medical school. I applied all over the country, but that one year in college got me wait-listed. So, I chose to go to a school on the beautiful Caribbean island of St. Maarten. </span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">One semester before I was to be finished with the basic science part of med school, hurricane Irma hit. It wiped out the island and our school. I lost all my possessions in that hurricane, but I made it home. Two weeks later, the school decided to relocate us to Preston, England, to share available classrooms with a school named UCLAN. It was a disaster, to put it lightly. There were visa issues, which meant there was no professor for over a month. I had to adjust to England’s weather after living in St. Maarten. I’m sure you can imagine the mental health effects of that. </span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">After that extended semester in England, I came home with just one month to study for my first round of board exams. I jumped over that hurdle, despite all of this and my then-undiagnosed ADHD. Once I got my passing score, my school gave me ten days to find a place to live in New York City. By the grace of God, I got to NYC at 5AM, unloaded my Uhaul, and reported for my first day of rotations at 8AM. </span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">Now, in my last semester of medical school, COVID19 strikes. And, I have to believe that I will clear this hurdle too. But this time I am breaking the stereotype that we black women are strong, resilient, and therefore don’t need or deserve help. It is a racist and outdated tactic to keep the marginalized where they are. But no longer. Getting this MD is my form of protest. It is my hope that you and everyone reading my story will support me in doing my part to change the world.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>On Resiliency</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br /></b></div><div>I wonder what must be in the minds of my readers right now. In my mind's eye, that theoried visuo-spatial sketchpad, Brittanie's story brought up the image of a map. I saw a plan traveling from the U.S. to the Carribean to the U.K. and then to New York City. I saw the warm sun and felt humid heat and was filled with chills when the sky became overcast in London as raindrops proverbially fell onto my skin. I could then hear the loudness of the bustling sidewalks of New York City, a strain in my back from carrying boxes up too many stairs, and the sterile smell that I know always hits my face when I walk into a hospital. </div><div><br /></div><div>And then my heart sped faster as I thought about what it must be like to have just found out about my adoption during this - during a family dispute, no less. The amount of times each day surrounding people were likely to be less helpful, less considerate, less kind, less accommodating, when not outright hostile and attacking, toward a young black professional. At what point would I - would anyone - have simply collapsed and given up? Brittanie is not only still standing, she is <i>excited</i>, even.</div><div><br /></div><div>I told Britanie about our recent roundtable discussion at Lost Daughters. I asked her about this expectation of resiliency against which she leverages her MD in an act of protest. I wanted to know more. What are the unseen inequitable energy drains for black women in medical school?</div><blockquote><div><span style="color: #800180;">I believe one of the biggest drains I face is one that is extremely prevalent for black women in medicine and in all professions today. We are performing at or above the level of our non-black peers within a system that was never built for us to succeed. Now we are called to the podium to “help fix that system” when something happens that the world cannot look away from. </span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">On the heels of George Floyd’s murder, came the largest protest that this country has ever seen. It's during a pandemic, at that. This year hasn’t been easy for most of us, but it has been especially hard on the black community. To give a personal example, I was being asked to join a panel of other black medical students in May to “talk about how we feel and how the school can facilitate change.” This may sound like a nice gesture. However, it is "performance activism," and a waste of our precious study time. </span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">But we show up anyway, re-traumatize ourselves, reiterate the importance of including examples of medical conditions in black folks and POC, because we are dying from it, tell our stories of being excluded from learning situations in hospitals because there are patients that don’t want us “to touch them.” Afterwards, we are left drained, emotionally triggered, angry, sad, and out of 2 hours of study time. But we still have to take the same tests, on the same days as our non black classmates. It is draining, it is unfair, and it is just one of the ways that the system continues to work against us as black women.</span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">There are indeed two pandemics happening in the world around us. Brittanie herself is a target of ant-blackness while saving lives during COVID19. What has that been like? I wondered.</span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #800180;">It has been unreal and humbling. Before medical students were pulled out of hospitals in late March, I was doing a clinical rotation in the Bronx. I have never seen so many sick people who could not get care because there were no beds, no tests, no personal protective equipment (PPE). After quarantine began, I volunteered on the crisis help text line and delivered food and medication to those in my neighborhood who could not leave their homes while doing my best to study. For at least 2 months I saw body bags coming out of apartment buildings on my street. It was heartbreaking.</span></div></blockquote><div>Who is Brittanie outside all of this?<br /><blockquote><span style="color: #800180;"> I am a proud activist for human rights, a Harry Potter fanatic, a music lover, and a mom to a sassy 13 year old kitty named Candi that I adopted 2 years ago. I love nature and the water. I even dusted off my old kiddie wading pool to enjoy a little socially distant splash this summer. I love to cook, host guests, and hit the dance floor to some Beyonce. Last, but I think the best, I am an honorary auntie to my best friend's two amazing kids.</span></blockquote>What does Brittanie love about herself?<br /></div><blockquote><div><span style="color: #800180;"> I love that I am persistent in my pursuit of positive and healthy growth. I never let any grass grow under my feet, and I still nurture my inner child! Now who wants to get circles run around them in a game of Uno? </span></div></blockquote><div>This is the most important part. How can we support Brittanie in achieving her dreams?<br /><blockquote><span style="color: #800180;"> You can support me by cheering me on these next 2 months and donate to my tutoring fund so that I have the structure and guidance passing my last 5 exams of medical school. COVID has caused huge changes for me as a medical student. While these 5 exams were supposed to be spread out over 6 months, they have been delayed and therefore stacked together within the next 2 months. These exams are the only thing in between me and my MD degree. Medical school tutoring sessions cost between $240-$300, but they are helping immensely. I’d like to reach my goal of working with a tutor for 40 hours to ensure readiness for my exams. The prices are extremely steep and a perfect example of why many black people, POC, and those of lower socioeconomic status are unable to access resources and get left behind.</span></blockquote>Brittanie's story of navigating abuse, trauma, late discovery adoption, multiple moves, hurricane devastation, addressing COVID19 during NYC, and addressing racism in the wake of the unrest following George Floyd's murder reminds me of a quote I once saw. Novelist Kola Boof said that a black women are the only flowers on earth that grow unwatered. What Brittanie has been up against cannot be simply described as a lack of water. She has been scorched, and yet she thrives. She will achieve her medical doctorate despite what the world has thrown at her, and will serve a world that in large part does not deserve her. We can all do our part to rally around her and make that better. I hope you will join me in that.<br /></div>The Declassified Adopteehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726376584015902627noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-27416582914120608932020-08-20T16:33:00.003-04:002020-08-20T19:40:20.385-04:00Meet the Black Female Late-Discovery Adoptee Poised to Become a Psychiatrist and Change the World<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuO5x9seaKgXgAPuzdoZFM7CDaZtVOCg6oX1ID2oxQo0W-m_3dGJYJh0dKqdtioNQg0DP_NSCmk2R9O8OVnL3OWhhD0mYtuGrnnxWpdXkBhlTZYWUwMpb2NZg5X_YNv1FgkOYroUt5/s1410/Brittanie+N+Floyd.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="1410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuO5x9seaKgXgAPuzdoZFM7CDaZtVOCg6oX1ID2oxQo0W-m_3dGJYJh0dKqdtioNQg0DP_NSCmk2R9O8OVnL3OWhhD0mYtuGrnnxWpdXkBhlTZYWUwMpb2NZg5X_YNv1FgkOYroUt5/s640/Brittanie+N+Floyd.png" width="640" /></a></div><p><i>By Amanda H.L. Transue-Woolston, MSS, LSW</i></p>Did you ever say, "My brain works differently than yours," to your parents? I remember saying those words to my adoptive parents, on more than one occasion. I tried to get my meek and long-suffering mother to understand my bold boisterousness. I tried to ease the frustration of my mathematically-gifted father as he pinched the bridge of his nose during one of our many late-night homework sessions. I went into mental health work in large part to prove that there is more than one way to understand people. Even, to prove to myself that there were legitimate ways to understand <i>me</i>. <p></p><p>I thudded the table <i>YES </i>when Ms. Brittanie N. Floyd responded to my interview questions mentioning a similar struggle. "As a child, any attempt to explain to my parents that my brain just worked differently and that I was trying was met with resistance and disbelief, she said. “Brittanie, we know you are smart” they would say. “You just need to apply yourself, try harder.” Brittanie told me this story as a part of describing what inspired her to become a psychiatrist.</p><p>Prior to this interview, please imagine my excitement, nay ... my outright <i>fangirling </i>... when one of my good friends told me that, Brittanie, her adoptee bestie was about to become a psychiatrist. Living in a health care and mental health desert, I find it a challenge to find a good psychiatrist for my child clients. Despite all of the connections I have in the adoptee community, I have never met a black female adoptee psychiatrist. I am all too abundantly aware of the barriers that keep black women out of medicine. "Oh god Angela, please, please connect me to her. Tell me it's not weird that I <i>need</i> to know this woman." </p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p>It's vital that <i>everyone </i>know Brittanie. Thankfully, she agreed for me to email her interview questions. She gave her responses on her thirty-first birthday.</p><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47;">I chose to complete this interview today because birthdays can bring an array of emotions for those of us that are adopted, so I wanted to give those feelings, and others who have them, acknowledgment.</span></blockquote><div><div>Born and raised in Greenville, South Carolina (USA), Brittanie described her early life as "superficially wonderful." </div></div><blockquote><div><span style="color: #741b47;">I had, and still have, two parents that love me very much. I grew up as an only child, even though I had four older siblings from my father's first marriage, and two 1st cousins on my mother’s side that were around the same age. I never felt like I 'belonged' anywhere, and I couldn’t understand why. I remember asking my parents once if I was adopted (before I knew). Talk about intuition! I would learn later in life that there was/is some pretty nasty generational trauma that has kept some of my family from accepting their “adopted” sister and cousin. </span></div><div><span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #741b47;">Nevertheless, I was a busybody! My parents put me in gymnastics, dance, singing lessons, karate - anything to tire out their rambunctious, curious little girl! I don’t have children myself as of yet, but shout out to my parents out there, especially during this COVID-19 pandemic. You all are my heroes.</span></div></blockquote><div>From what Brittanie was told, she was adopted around 6 weeks of age. Like many in our generation, including me, she spend several weeks in foster care while legal arrangements were made. Brittanie learned that she was adopted at the age of 22 - about nine years ago.</div><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47;">I was a junior in college when I got a panicked call from my mom telling me there had been a “family dispute” (to put it nicely). She needed to tell me something. A family member had threatened to tell me that I was adopted, and my mother panicked. For the next year, I got 3 different versions of my “origin.” This included tales of surrogates and IVF. </span><div><span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #741b47;">A year later, I finally got the beginnings of my truth. There should never be shame in giving a child a home. But, I also understand now that my mother is a human. Societal pressure, and her inability to have a child due to fibroids, led her to feel an array of emotions, from shame to incompetence. </span></div><div><span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #741b47;">While I know we have made huge strides in providing emotional support for adoptees and their parents, there is still much work to be done to ensure that adoption is normalized and celebrated. Access to mental healthcare should be available to ANYONE who needs it for ANY reason.</span></div></blockquote><div><div><div>She mentioned heroes, earlier, and the COVID-19 pandemic. She was being modest. Brittanie is working as an essential worker while studying for and taking tests to finish her MD. It's one reason why this interview is so important. We need to support her tutoring so she can bring everything she has worked for into fruition. I was so entirely moved by her backstory behind her passion to become a psychiatrist.</div><blockquote><span style="color: #741b47;">You’ll remember I described myself as a busy, curious, rambunctious child. In grade school, I was also a child who, despite above-average IQ scores, struggled in math and science. I would, much later in life, finally get diagnosed with ADHD-Inattentive Type. </span><div><span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #741b47;">My father, having taught high school chemistry, decided it was a "no-brainer" that he should tutor me. But unfortunately, from ages 10-14 years old, I endured mental, emotional, and physical trauma because my father stayed frustrated at my inability to “just get it” and “understand simple concepts.” As one can imagine, that period of my life led to years of insecurity, self doubt, fear of failure, depression, and anxiety throughout my adolescent and young adult life.</span></div></blockquote><div><div>I found heat rising from my collar and a stinging at my eyes when I began reading Brittanie's answer as to why she chose psychiatry. Especially as she finished this section noting the disbelief she received, the urging she just "try harder," the trauma, and her compelling realization that her brain just worked differently. As she continued her answer, she acknowledged that many who hear her story feel this way.</div></div></div><blockquote><div><span style="color: #741b47;">Trust me, I’ve spent almost 20 years feeling the exact same way. But, as I grew and began to immerse myself in my search for “identity,” I found that this is a very common situation in many communities, especially those who have been oppressed. Unfortunately, it is not uncommon even, to hear people these communities make jokes about how they “had the fear of god beat into them.” </span></div><div><span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #741b47;">But we must never forget that behavior is learned and passed down. African Americans are still experiencing the mental and biological effects of slavery and oppression. My father happens to be an 84-year-old black man who grew up as a sharecropper in South Carolina. His grandparents were emancipated slaves. Being beaten was a way of life for many of my ancestors. It is still very much a reality for many children today whose caretakers have not unlearned this harmful way of discipline. </span></div></blockquote><p>But how did Brittanie finally get that ADHD diagnosis? </p><blockquote><div><span style="color: #741b47;">About a month ago—yes, you read that correctly—I decided enough was enough. I made an appointment to get tested for ADHD. Between living through New York City’s COVID-19 peak, and exams being moved to being remotely administered, I had no choice but to practice what I preach. I had to be vulnerable and get tested. As I mentioned before, I was diagnosed with ADHD-Inattentive Type.</span></div><div><span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #741b47;">When I mentioned my diagnosis to my mother, to my shock, she just started to cry. She revealed to me that she took me to my pediatrician on two separate occasions - once at 6-years-old and again around 8-years-old. She had been concerned that I had ADHD because of things she witnessed as I developed.</span></div><div><span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #741b47;"><i>My pediatrician shamed her.</i> He told her that I was just a 'healthy, active child.' And, that while he understood she had a stressful job, she would just need to 'do better' keeping up with me. He said that she didn’t need to be 'another mom putting their kids on medication.' </span></div><div><span style="color: #741b47;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="color: #741b47;"><i>He shamed my mother into silence</i>. He let his personal and cultural biases affect his patient care. His patients paid the price. This still happens today, and it is wrong. All patients deserve safety, empathy, and options from their healthcare providers.</span></div></blockquote></div><div>Brittanie shared so much more, about why psychiatry matters. She shared her insight about the <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2020/07/round-table-black-people-shouldnt-have.html">expectation of resiliency that our sisters of color here discussed in a recent roundtable</a>. She talked about some of the stresses and barriers she experienced as a medical student. I want to share that with you in an upcoming Part II of this interview. In the meantime, please support her by giving generously to her tutoring fund so that she can finish medical school.</div><div><br /></div><b>Brittanie's PayPal pool can be found <a href="https://paypal.me/pools/c/8qC7jzhjg3">here</a>. Her Cashapp is: $Brittaniefloyd. And, her Venmo is: @Brittanie-Floyd</b>The Declassified Adopteehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16726376584015902627noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-11407398873286036442020-08-02T12:55:00.001-04:002020-08-20T19:43:55.700-04:00Round Table: Verbal Abuse Towards Women.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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What does it mean when male public figures publicly verbally assault female colleagues, as in the recent incident where Representative Yoho accosted AOC and later called her a “fucking bitch” to the press?<div><br /></div><div>Has this happened to you? Does the way you were raised influence how you respond? What is your gut reaction to men who verbally abuse women? <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/powerpost/rep-ocasio-cortez-dismisses-rep-yohos-attempted-apology-for-confrontation-on-capitol-steps/2020/07/23/eb2610de-cceb-11ea-b0e3-d55bda07d66a_story.html">Here is a WashPo article for some context</a>.</div><div><br /></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://www.blogger.com/u/2/#">Pam Roberts:</a> </div><div><br /></div><div>I’m 53. For many years I thought it was a fact of life. I recall learning and contemplating I could expect different. I lost a job once for reporting a coworker. </div><div><br /></div><div>What she experienced is actually SEXUAL HARASSMENT. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://www.blogger.com/u/2/#">Lynn Grubb</a>: </div><div><br /></div><div>This has absolutely happened to me; however, not publicly. I was raised in a church which taught "turn the other cheek" but I do not ascribe to that in my adult life. I find AOC admirable for not allowing ugly behavior to change who she is and for speaking truth to power. My gut reaction to men who verbally abuse women is disgust. </div><div><br /></div><div>Barbara Robertson: </div><div><br /></div><div>There were a couple of occasions that I briefly experienced a couple of expletives directed at me when I refused to talk to or dance with a man. Laughing it off dismissively was what I was taught to do in order to deal with the behavior. As a result, I felt powerful, and in control. I'm grateful that even though I spent most of my work experience in male dominated spaces, encounters have been largely respectful. I love how AOC handled the Yoho situation! Her speech should be required study for everyone! I love how the other ladies of Congress supported her! That makes even a more powerful statement . Unfortunately, this incident only solidified my belief that misogyny, like racism, still permeates within the structural framework of American society. The fight to make sure all human beings are respected continues. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://www.blogger.com/u/2/#">Rebecca Hawkes</a>: </div><div><br /></div><div>I’ve been thinking about how verbal abuse affects me even when directed at another woman, especially one in the public eye. When someone like AOC is subjected to abuse, it’s a message to all women to stay in line. This is why her response was so important. One of the things I love about her is her ability to take whatever is thrown at her and turn it around to her (and our) advantage. As an adoptee who grew up trying to please everyone around me, I have had to unlearn the habit of trying to myself small and pleasing so others will like me.<br /> <br /> Photo credit: <a href="https://www.blogger.com/u/2/#">https://twitter.com/FreestocksOrg</a></div>Rebecca Hawkeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10736626549316682171noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-7469388792973673802020-07-26T20:44:00.000-04:002020-08-02T12:56:12.763-04:00Round Table: Black People Shouldn't Have to Be Resilient <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>What does it mean for you to be expected to be resilient by your school, family, workplaces, etc. while they avoid confronting racism?<br />What is your biggest bandwidth drain(s)?<br />What are the invisible (to white people) consequences you experience as a result of being drained?</i><br />
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<b>Lost Daughters Respond:</b><br />
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<span style="color: #050505; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://redthreadbroken.wordpress.com/about/the-author/"></a></span></span><b style="background-color: transparent; color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://redthreadbroken.wordpress.com/about/the-author/" style="background-color: transparent;" target="_blank">Grace Newton</a></b></div>
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Resiliency is such a misused word in adoption communities and in general!</div>
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<b><a href="https://adopteelit.com/about/" target="_blank">Stephanie Oyler</a></b><br />
<b><br /></b>Resilience to me also equals exhaustion. The mere fact that you are resilient, means that you are faced with obstacles that you have to overcome time and time again. That’s how you encompass the act of resilience. It’s tiring.<br />
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Resilience is sitting in a coworker led support group and having to bite your tongue when people are outwardly expressing their opinions to the situations of racial tension happening right now in our nation. Its realizing they are focusing on the items and statues, but not the lives lost. It’s in the moment attempting to come up with a polite way (in your mind) to disagree that spares the other person's feelings because you must remain professional. It means trying to come up with this thought fast enough before the conversations shifts and you lose that moment to calmly educate.</div>
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Resilience is having white adoptive parents who are also very conservative Republicans who fail to see the bigger picture of having a transracial adoptee. It’s them not even thinking about checking in on their black daughter during a time of racial unrest in the country. It’s avoiding the subject and hiding behind the “colorblind” mentality.</div>
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Resilience is a POC's everyday life because what’s going on is so intertwined within the institutions and systems that we live everyday and the bias that individuals carry around without even knowing; it’s the constant micro-aggressions and comments. Resilience is exhausting.</div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-400d2177-7fff-50cf-aba4-7b4ded71297d"><span style="font-family: "cambria" , serif; font-size: 12pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><a href="https://shaniasophiaadoptee.com/about/" target="_blank">Shania-Sophia Dunbar Ives</a> </b></span></span><br />
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Today I promised myself that I will stop doing these 20 things: </div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61"></span><br />
<ol><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Putting on a smile to make white people feel comfortable.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Watering down my blackness to make white people feel comfortable.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Saying hello to white people that look scared of me, to make them feel comfortable.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Being civil with people who have been racist/ignorant/said microaggressions, to make them and the other white people around us feel comfortable.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Suppressing my anger to ignorant comments/micro-aggressions, to make white people feel comfortable</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Not calling out performative allyship.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Thanking people for understanding that racism is bad</span></li>
<li>Not being my full beautiful black self.</li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Not commenting when people call racism a “political matter”.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Hesitating about changing my hair because of the stupid comments people will make and them asking me to explain how my hair “works”.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Explaining how my hair “works”.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Believing people when they call themselves allies when they have not shown this to be true.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Explaining why, as a black person, I feel small in places dominated by white people.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Talking when I don’t feel like it, to make white people feel comfortable.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Being surprised when white people see the real black me and feel uncomfortable.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Saying sorry too often.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Saying sorry when I’m not sorry.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Entering into conversations about race that I know will drain me mentally.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Explaining systematic racism to white people.</span></li>
<li><span id="docs-internal-guid-3032db8e-7fff-83d7-c1a8-30cba9c50b61">Being strong to make others comfortable.</span></li>
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Being misunderstood is emotionally exhausting. Being misunderstood, with no attempt to understand and then expected to be resilient and cheerful is even worse. For the majority of my life, I’ve lived in predominantly white areas. I moved to London when I was 18 and this is the only time I felt free to be who I am. In London, I can walk down the street without smiling and the people who walk by don’t look at me fretfully or clutch their bags a bit tighter. I’ve always been aware that I am something scary and because of this I have spent my whole life trying to make white people comfortable. When I’m tired, I’m smiling. When I’m miserable, I’m smiling. When I’m devastated, I’m smiling. I smile so much that I don’t even notice I’m doing it. My default setting is annoyingly positive. I never thought twice about this until recently. I moved back home during the coronavirus pandemic and started working at a local supermarket. I grew up along the southeast coast of England and in the north of France. I’m adopted, therefore a lot of my family is white. It’s safe to say I had a very white upbringing. So these past two years in London I’ve been able to discover and be my full authentic black self. Coming back to my extremely white town has been a massive culture shock. It’s made me realise that for my whole life, I’ve been putting on and act to make white people comfortable. Being the only black person in a white environment is isolating. What’s even more isolating is knowing that the white people can’t see it. I feel like a fraud in these situations, as I have to dilute my blackness. In a way, it’s peaceful knowing that these people don’t and will never know me. But it’s exhausting having to be someone else to be accepted in a place where I don’t need/want to be accepted.<br /><br />Within the first week of this job I was subjected to the usual ignorant immature microaggressions such as “are you from the ghetto?" I’ve learnt to deal with these, I accepted them as they aren’t a big deal. But they are. The reason I never thought they were a big deal is because white people don’t see them as such. The microaggressions were the least of my worries. I was told that black people should act like normal people and that instead of protesting we should consider signing a petition. (Right thanks! We hadn’t thought of that). I was then told that there’s no point in us fighting for change because the world is always going to stay the same. This person went on to inform me that black people look stupid because we "get angry" for a while and then “go back to normal”. Within 7 days of being at this job my humanity was questioned, but I was expected to be resilient.<br /><br />Resilience. noun.<br />The capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.<br /><br />Ignorance is the biggest threat to humanity. The type of ignorance possessed by these people showed me that they wouldn’t get very far in life whatsoever. So, I figured let them keep their jobs but still inform management. Smiling, I apologised to management for the inconvenience, as I didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable. I was understood to a certain degree and told that this was unacceptable behaviour and could be taken forwards. However, I was also told that the movement for the equality of black people was a political issue. My humanity is not a political issue. Still, I smiled. I made life easy for them and myself. The allies involved helped to a certain degree, expressed anger but quickly forgot about the whole incident treating the people who made ignorant comments with kindness. It was forgotten, treated as a blip. My humanity was questioned, but it was treated as a political disagreement.</span></div>
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<a href="https://www.laniseantoineshelley.com/bio" target="_blank"><b>Lanise Antoine Shelley</b></a><br />
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As an interracial adoptee I grew up hyper-cognizant that I was different. There came a time in high school when I stopped apologizing for it and just leaned into the stares and confusion when strangers witnessed me with my white mom. To protect myself, I started calling my mother “mere,” the French word for mother, an effort to preserve my privacy while still honoring her title. I’ve become adept at “code-switching,” with sonic precision reading people’s energy and disarming them with what they need to hear. The constant maneuvering and micro-pivots are exhausting, albeit necessary. That being said, I am not impervious to bouts of fed-up-ness. <br />
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My mother admitted her white privilege a month ago. The atmosphere of the world has caused her to plummet into an identity crisis as she rumbles with the resounding truth that she and I move through the world differently.<br />
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As we would casually browse through stores she never notices that, even to this day, the sales associate addressed her first and then me. She had assumed that the stares were simply because the world deemed me as beautiful as she did. While I attempted to mitigate the narrative burden of always having to expose the most sensitive part of myself by simply uttering “mom” in public. <br />
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The scale of today’s anti-racism movement has my mother fervently trying to catch up in her reading and conversations with me. Attempting to jump into a triathlon that I’ve been racing in for years with a clumsy splash from a lifeboat. I love that she’s finally joined me though, but I am asked to teach where I just want to be comforted. I am asked to be strong when I just want to be safe. <br />
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Resilience is called upon in the conversations with the woman I love the most after returning from a march, and she has yet to post Black Lives Matter. Resilience is ordering books on Amazon for us to read together to ensure no one is left behind.<br />
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<b>Phoebe Kroells </b><br />
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For me, what the expectation of resilience means that I often feel like I suffer in silent screams. I voice my feelings and fears, but I often get the same dismissive response which never addresses my hurt but still leaves me with a sore throat.<br />
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My biggest drain is feeling like I cannot ignore racist ignorance. Especially from my family. I feel like I must remind them that I was raised in a similar environment as them, and yet I still feel targeted. But once again I feel like I am screaming silently.<br />
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Because I am now drained, I find myself experiencing more stress, anxiety, and a raise in my sleepless nights. I also find myself avoiding more social interactions that has the potential to make be feel attacked and unheard.</div>
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<i>Grace Newton: <a href="https://redthreadbroken.wordpress.com/">https://redthreadbroken.wordpress.com/</a><br />Stephanie Oyler <a href="https://adopteelit.com/">https://adopteelit.com/</a><br />Shania-Sophia Dunbar Ives <a href="https://shaniasophiaadoptee.com/">https://shaniasophiaadoptee.com/</a>; <a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCEN3dfilC1DgW1aem2oN2gw">https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCEN3dfilC1DgW1aem2oN2gw</a><br />Lanise Antoine Shelley, host of podcast "When They Were Young: Amplifying voices of adoptees" <a href="https://www.laniseantoineshelley.com/">https://www.laniseantoineshelley.com/</a><br />Phoebe Kroells kroells.higherele@gmail.com<br />Photo Credit <a href="https://twitter.com/wocintechchat">https://twitter.com/wocintechchat</a></i>Rebecca Hawkeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10736626549316682171noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-61572712555820184992020-06-10T16:51:00.002-04:002020-06-10T21:12:15.638-04:00Asian, Adopted, and Anxious During COVID-19 <!--wp:paragraph-->
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEjNquMDDso5eOgDO0CyA-93QQX3MZeg3NgFl3iaju2Tobk-xTO-t_260VegACeonD8Yi_pWzQVCL87wIigzevAelNFrmw54AHQuuVy_ondXVWdSmGwQ4LkzYxMKooV4ri-VNeiy0nuKSRE1cpIqWeBjnV2OVrPws6m6EYcjjIfe95xFNpkxtFO_rAvLLvC2z2XDAAS0mLGU75PZALDK_iU8xQq7jpIDbyPzX8he0m8Pv-fH2tY=s750" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="423" data-original-width="750" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEjNquMDDso5eOgDO0CyA-93QQX3MZeg3NgFl3iaju2Tobk-xTO-t_260VegACeonD8Yi_pWzQVCL87wIigzevAelNFrmw54AHQuuVy_ondXVWdSmGwQ4LkzYxMKooV4ri-VNeiy0nuKSRE1cpIqWeBjnV2OVrPws6m6EYcjjIfe95xFNpkxtFO_rAvLLvC2z2XDAAS0mLGU75PZALDK_iU8xQq7jpIDbyPzX8he0m8Pv-fH2tY=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>With more than 400,000 global deaths from COVID-19, a plunging economy, soaring rates of unemployment, a rise in anti-Asian racism and violence around the world, and a clear racial disparity in the fatality of the illness here in the United States, this is one of the most devastating collective events in my lifetime. This year will surely be a memorable period in history with both this global pandemic and widespread social unrest, as cities all over the country and world have protests to honor Black lives and produce meaningful societal changes. As we adapt to an ever-evolving world that includes global climate change, public health crises like this pandemic may be something we have to prepare for more frequently. </p>
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<p>Despite all of the tragedy from COVID-19, one remarkably positive outcome for me of the shelter-in-place policies around the country has been the ability to participate in virtual events hosted by organizations that I wouldn't have access to otherwise. An adoptee organization for which I sit on the Advisory Council, KAAN, has started hosting <a href="https://www.wearekaan.org/community" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank">Community Conversations </a>to hold space for adoptees and create community in the absence of physical presence. I participated in a townhall on anti-Asian racism hosted by <a href="https://18millionrising.org/" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank">18 Million Rising</a> and a talk called "Confronting Xenophobia and Supporting Asian and Asian/Pacific American Communities during COVID-19" given by the Minnesota based professors <a href="http://www.erikalee.org/">Erika Lee</a> and <a href="https://readingspark.wordpress.com/author/readingspark/" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank">Sarah Park Dahlen.</a> Last month, I also had the opportunity to partake in a virtual conversation through <a href="https://fccny.org/" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank">Families with Children from China of Greater New York</a> (FCC-NY) called, "Coping with Anxiety in the Age of Coronavirus." </p>
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<p>This FCC-NY session was particularly impactful to me because many of the townhalls addressed anti-Asian racism broadly, but not specifically the ways in which COVID-19 is impacting Asian adoptees. This conversation was facilitated by <a href="http://transracialadoption.net/" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank">Dr. Amanda Baden</a>, a practicing therapist, professor, and Chinese adoptee in the New York area. My first awareness of Baden came when I was 17 years old, watching the documentary "<a href="https://www.pbs.org/pov/watch/woainimommy/" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank">Wo Ai Ni Mommy</a>" on PBS with my parents. Baden was interviewed for the film as a transracial adoption therapist, and I remember being in awe as her title appeared on the screen, because I didn't know that such specific adoption work existed outside of adoption agencies. </p>
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<p>Baden's professional and lived experience aided the FCC conversation. She highlighted that adoptees often live with anticipatory grief as a result of being adopted and having lost our first families. Because of this, adoptees may have a heightened fear of the death or loss of their parents, and the hyper-visibility of morbidity and death right now makes this threat all the more real. Moreover, adoptees have the potential for a double loss of biological family, that they may or may not know, and their adoptive families. For those who have found biological family, the possibility of COVID-19 ending relationships that have already been lost once before and now may be lost for a second time, while still in their early stages, is devastating. And for those who have not found their biological families but are hopeful, COVID-19 may close the door on that possibility forever. </p>
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<p>In addition to the potential loss of our first parents and adoptive parents, adoptees who are Asian are feeling the anticipatory grief of when they will fall victim to an act of COVID-19 inspired anti-Asian racism. Experiencing this type of racism for adoptees is complicated by several unique factors. First, young adoptees who grew up in predominantly white communities and families may not feel particularly Asian. These racist attacks prove that people see our Asian bodies without understanding the whole host of factors that have contributed to our identities. Secondly, adoptees may attribute a sense of shame or inadequacy as the reason for which they were abandoned or relinquished for adoption. Being targeted for anti-Asian racism layered upon this can have a compounding impact that there is also something wrong with being Asian. Thirdly, young Asian adoptees often are racially isolated and may not have been prepared by their white adoptive parents to face racism. The absence of having racially aware mentors who can uplift and validate one's racial identity can result in the further internalization of this racism. </p>
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<p>While adoptees are no strangers to living with continuous loss and <a href="https://redthreadbroken.wordpress.com/2017/07/02/remembering-with-no-memories/" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank">disenfranchised grief</a>, this time period is unique because many people around the world are currently experiencing anticipatory grief and<a href="https://hbr.org/2020/03/that-discomfort-youre-feeling-is-grief" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank"> ambiguous loss</a>. We are all fearing for the people we love who may die or fall ill. We are collectively experiencing losses of hugs, friends, traditional work and class spaces, and freedoms right now. We are grieving the loss of the pre-COVID-19 world, wondering what will happen going forward, and what changes will be permanent. </p>
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<p>In a time where many of us feel powerless, what can we do to confront or cope with anti-Asian racism? If we are put in the position of being the target of racism and must confront it directly, the first priority is always safety. Assess the situation, and if it's something that could escalate violently, remove yourself. Being right is not more important than being injured. If the situation is safe, and you want to respond, I often choose to say that I am American or am an American citizen or some variation of that. If the person has asked a question about my country of origin, ethnicity, or other qualities, I might tell them that it is none of their concern. Correcting misinformation or relaying the real facts may work in some instances as a counter to racism, but oftentimes the other party does not truly want information -- they want to get a rise out of you. While it's sometimes easier said than done, do not internalize the racist words or remarks made by the other person. Their actions reflect negatively on them, not you. </p>
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<p>Even when we are not the direct recipients of racism, it can be jarring and emotionally draining to read news article after news article on the topic, and engaging in self-care is a good practice. Self-care is not about bubble baths or binging T.V. shows or eating mouthfuls of cake. It is about setting boundaries, and what works for one person may not work for another. Some may want to stay current with the news and others may need to limit the amount of news media or social media they consume. Self-care might take the form of setting boundaries with certain family members or acquaintances who are less aware of racial dynamics and power structures. It might be creating a daily or weekly routine. Self-care can also be seeking out communities of Asian Americans or adoptees and replacing negative statements heard about China or Asians with positive ones through learning about key Asian American figures in history that bring pride to who we are [View the PBS docu-series, Asian Americans, <a href="https://www.pbs.org/weta/asian-americans/" rel="noreferrer noopener" target="_blank">here</a>]. </p>
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<p>However you choose to cope with COVID-19 inspired anti-Asian racism, stay safe, stay healthy, and I hope to see you in a townhall or virtual event until we can be in physical community again. </p><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhki_HzBA-iByjwZesZtFcEGBQ9oDEP8AAAvq9PTCKszFlkcne2UDU_yIhJvCnZa13IXEGWdzKPTtHynRhhLXiEdEBCVQw2JzWidkDg0ysQhyPwH0U34H8IEZzkFYm9mSl3aHeKwGMaxbw/s1580/2965303D-3CB1-4334-9D67-6774DEF3D3A1.JPG" style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1580" data-original-width="1580" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhki_HzBA-iByjwZesZtFcEGBQ9oDEP8AAAvq9PTCKszFlkcne2UDU_yIhJvCnZa13IXEGWdzKPTtHynRhhLXiEdEBCVQw2JzWidkDg0ysQhyPwH0U34H8IEZzkFYm9mSl3aHeKwGMaxbw/w200-h200/2965303D-3CB1-4334-9D67-6774DEF3D3A1.JPG" width="200" /></a></p><p>Grace Newton is a Chinese adoptee writer, blogger, and Social Work student at the Brown School at Washington University in Saint Louis. Her writing has been featured in two anthologies and focuses on race and politics in transnational adoption. Grace serves on the Advisory Council for the Korean Adoptee and Adoptive Family Network (KAAN) Conference, and has spoken at national conferences and symposia including the Midwest Conference on Asian Affairs, Midwest Asian American Students' Union Conference, and KAAN. When Grace isn't discussing issues of race and adoption in person, she is writing about it online at her blog: <a href="https://redthreadbroken.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">redthreadbroken.wordpress.com </a></p>
<!--/wp:paragraph-->Grace Newtonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09720765587986559346noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-55184066655309184932020-05-24T21:41:00.001-04:002020-05-24T21:42:26.002-04:00An Asian Adoptee's Perspective on Asian American Heritage Month<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Yeah, but you're not </span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">really </span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Korean. You're</span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> American</span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, right?"</span></span></i></b></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><font face="trebuchet ms, sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></font></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><font face="trebuchet ms, sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">* * *<b style="font-style: italic;"><br /></b></span></font></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><font face="trebuchet ms, sans-serif"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></font></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">I am about a month away from my 45th birthday. And yet, it is only in the past decade that I have finally begun to explore my own identity and history as an Asian person.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">As a transracial, transnational adoptee, i.e., an Asian person raised by a White family in predominantly White communities, I spent most of my life severed from Asian culture, people, and history.</span></span></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">Then, in 2009, after seven years of searching, I got a call that my Korean parents were alive and waiting to meet me. Suddenly, <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2019/01/colonized-through-adoption-whiteness-as.html" target="_blank">upon reuniting with my Korean family</a>, my identity and origins were thrust before me. <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2019/01/colonized-through-adoption-whiteness-as.html" target="_blank">Everything I thought I knew was turned upside</a> down, inside out, and ultimately, burned to the ground.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvu4fCbm01qHXFAHcwPB411CDPypEtx85z6LUPjK4DBe0UMX-FNlXHhJEm8UjxZj-Fxow4CeFVMaGCBtXQOfNVLQdzsqfgv5-e4zuRqNs3QxzFGnzQbESf3ZDJosxGBBimbRl-CJ1rFJmA/s1600/1934473_1172513027376_7132918_n.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="453" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvu4fCbm01qHXFAHcwPB411CDPypEtx85z6LUPjK4DBe0UMX-FNlXHhJEm8UjxZj-Fxow4CeFVMaGCBtXQOfNVLQdzsqfgv5-e4zuRqNs3QxzFGnzQbESf3ZDJosxGBBimbRl-CJ1rFJmA/s320/1934473_1172513027376_7132918_n.jpg" width="240" /></span></a><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">I have been rebuilding my life and identity ever since.</span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">* * *</span></span></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">Several years into post-reunion, I remember having a conversation with a loved one, at which point he stated, "Yeah, but you're not really Korean. You're American, right?"</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">My identity was emerging and shifting as a result of reconnecting with my Korean origins. This loved one sensed the evolution unfolding and was trying to reassert to what and whom my allegiance should be.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And yet <b><i>his question of allegiance contrasted the other side of what is ultimately the same dilemma--the assumption that I cannot possibly be American while simultaneously being demanded to prove just how American I am. </i></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><i>Asian Americans are expected to be assimilated, English-speaking, God-fearing Americans, while we are simultaneously yet paradoxically perceived and treated as foreigners who must have arrived in America only two weeks ago.</i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">Asian Americans are often pushed into a state of limbo, or a tug-of-war that requires us to never be too much of who we are, while simultaneously being expected to demonstrate allegiance to a nation that has never seen us as anything but "the perpetual foreigner." </span></span></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><b><i>As Asian adoptees, these demands are forced upon us in the context of a false but dominant narrative that we were "saved" or "rescued." Hence, our identity is assumed to be subjugated to the expectations and perceptions of White Saviorism for the sake of White Comfort. </i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Furthermore, Asian American identities are often manipulated and politicized during times of economic unrest, brutal wars, and racial tension. </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">We are witnessing once again the racism and xenophobia so familiar to Asian Americans during the current COVID pandemic. Asian communities are being scapegoated and targeted, just as they have been throughout American history. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_rB5qAnY60qBgROcl_N8qF3PllOT1xePn9YicIbBZHfl8JXZJQb_9703s7351T3AI1qj0Add926ZsVYP_BmuHrrwNU66EmLQiJLsjwMOX3mk7ajJxpRuylyuEoe_8QcleRvPTL3uN9FOC/s1600/416907_3048738731846_1505692281_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_rB5qAnY60qBgROcl_N8qF3PllOT1xePn9YicIbBZHfl8JXZJQb_9703s7351T3AI1qj0Add926ZsVYP_BmuHrrwNU66EmLQiJLsjwMOX3mk7ajJxpRuylyuEoe_8QcleRvPTL3uN9FOC/s320/416907_3048738731846_1505692281_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Asian Adoptees, while often invisible within this back and forth, are still impacted by the racism, discrimination, and xenophobia that result, as exemplified by the detainment and deportation of adoptees to over 30 countries.</span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Furthermore, Asian Adoptees in some ways experience an even greater expectation and demand to conform and assimilate within the White families that adopted us as a show of gratitude for being charitably "rescued" and brought to America. We remain eternally indebted to the White families that "took us in," and are therefore expected to pay that debt by exemplifying the "Model Minority Myth" (which is indeed a racist stereotype fabricated to serve white supremacy).</span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">As Asian Adoptees, our <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2017/03/being-asian-adoptee-in-white-church-in.html" target="_blank">Asian identities become a trophy for Whiteness</a> to hold up only insofar as our Asianness serves the White Savior narrative. It must otherwise be erased when it does not serve that purpose. </span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Furthermore, as a Korean adoptee I must also mitigate the rejection by my own nation and people. Korea sent me away ultimately because I was not born in the "right way," i.e., I was born to an unwed mother. I had no proof of paternity and hence, I did not exist. So, they sent me away like I was dust. </span></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br /></i></b><b style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Consequently, as an Asian adoptee, I feel a simultaneous yet paradoxical disconnection and connection from and to my Asianness and the collective history of Asian communities. </i></b></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">I am connected to Asian communities through the profound impact that Empire, White Supremacy, Imperialism, and Colonialism have had on my existence. I am also connected to Asian communities through my experiences of racial violence and discrimination. But I am disconnected from the core of my Asian heritage as a result of being severed from my Korean family, culture, and origins. </span></span></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><b><i>Some days I feel at odds with my Asianness. Other days, I feel reluctance. On good days, I feel solidarity, yet from a distance. Rarely, do I feel fully at peace with my inherited Asianness. </i></b></span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">For me to be Asian American means I was involuntarily taken from my mother, my family, my origins. It means my identity and origins were erased.</span></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">More specifically, to </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">celebrate my Asian heritage requires me to first acknowledge that my Asian heritage was taken from me.</span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Th</span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">e reason I am an Asian in America is a result of the oppression and exploitation exacted through American</span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"> colonialism and imperialism.</span></i></span></b><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">I spent the first three decades of my life cut off completely from my origins and identity. </span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">While, yes, I can celebrate the progress I have made and the reconnection with my Korean family, any celebration of my Asianness inevitably and inextricably also carries with it the profound trauma, loss, and grief that I bear as an Asian person who was forcibly separated from my origins. </span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">I lost everything. That kind of loss, at least for me, will never be reason to celebrate.</span></span><br />
<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">I am not lucky or fortunate to have lost everything. I am not blessed to have been severed from my own mother, paid for, and brought to a nation and people that would despise me as perpetually foreign.</span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">Nor am I lucky that my own nation and people were willing to send me away, along with almost 200,000 more children for a small price that they could profit off of culturally-inflicted shame. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>In some ways, I feel neither Asian nor American. </b></span><b style="white-space: pre-wrap;">And in other ways I cannot escape that I am both Asian and American.</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">It’s a terrible no man’s land of purgatory, in which I must make my own way. </span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">Of course ultimately, I get to decide who I am, even if the world around me cannot see beyond their own eyes and minds. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><i><b>Yet that is in large part what being Asian American means to me--constantly having to assert who I know myself to be while managing and mitigating the identity and expectations forced upon me by others</b> </i>who think they know who I am, but ultimately have not a clue.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIINkrtkr101Ce1eCfb8CBQWdWWbW21TgrS7CN5P6Zdnrz_VG5sFw9mY8qc0jBcR-5ZDquez7eThtJwfEeibbEd9epejioty_6Eo5aeQ-iedNTEMQwaARQ5bWavbJbmFuR9BKCS0DTys_D/s1600/10398700_1174975528937_1278183_n.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIINkrtkr101Ce1eCfb8CBQWdWWbW21TgrS7CN5P6Zdnrz_VG5sFw9mY8qc0jBcR-5ZDquez7eThtJwfEeibbEd9epejioty_6Eo5aeQ-iedNTEMQwaARQ5bWavbJbmFuR9BKCS0DTys_D/s320/10398700_1174975528937_1278183_n.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">So while May is the month marked to celebrate my Asian heritage and the contributions made by the members of a vastly diverse community of Asian Americans, <b><i>I feel both proud and conflicted, both pensive and grateful, both united and divided.</i></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Yet one thing I can embrace is the powerful and resilient presence and history Asian communities can claim. </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">This rich history often goes unseen and is regularly neglected and ignored. As I educate myself, I am learning just how vital the role of Asian communities has been in this country (and around the globe).</span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">While I may struggle to find my place, I do not struggle to find inspiration from those who have gone before me, as well as those who are following after me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">It is of course always important to acknowledge the pain and suffering our communities have endured. It is also equally vital to remember all the stunning and powerful ways our communities have resisted and overcome here and throughout the history of the world.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Even as I continue to grapple with my own identity as an Asian American, I am able to grasp that I am also a valuable part of the big, beautiful tapestry that is Asian American heritage. While I may never feel fully resolved or fully connected, I cannot deny that my thread exists and brings its own color and meaning to the larger story of the collective. </span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">And that, for now, is enough for me.</span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">____________________</span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">*I also want to acknowledge our Black and Brown brothers and sisters who have suffered profoundly under the same oppressive and brutal systems. We are not the same, but we have all suffered under the same systems that seek to undermine and exploit our self-determination and power for their own profit and benefit.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>Milahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14088039434355591753noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-12049890018076058932019-01-23T09:00:00.000-05:002019-01-23T09:00:01.060-05:00One Child at a Time*<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYtz0kiSQAeFqyvSackeDw3I5_ne2jqoTHHchKoRMrIQn9wuV7UsKB7AOtGfNFHHrQ5S9t9VECOb-oWdQZHvFUWFdXbFcYo8aQB_1CGsP9mFPVHOBrYCEDkrma8TWkoUqPxmqMWshVWpJ3/s1600/yoon+mira+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="984" data-original-width="1290" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYtz0kiSQAeFqyvSackeDw3I5_ne2jqoTHHchKoRMrIQn9wuV7UsKB7AOtGfNFHHrQ5S9t9VECOb-oWdQZHvFUWFdXbFcYo8aQB_1CGsP9mFPVHOBrYCEDkrma8TWkoUqPxmqMWshVWpJ3/s320/yoon+mira+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With my foster family in South Korea</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I recently published an essay titled, <i>“<a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2019/01/colonized-through-adoption-whiteness-as.html">Colonized through Adoption</a>.” </i>After I published the piece, I realized that I could have just as appropriately titled the piece, <i>“Erased by Adoption.**” </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But then, I thought to myself--or I could simply write an additional piece examining the ways in which I have experienced erasure through adoption.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I have been intensely <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/search?q=reflections+from+the+other+side">reflecting upon my adoption and reunion</a> recently, primarily because this January of 2019 marks a decade since I reunited with my Appa and Omma. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Who I am and how I frame my adoption have dramatically evolved over the past decade. It would be diminutive to qualify any of these changes as good or bad. Rather, I can only recognize that they have been </span><i style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">necessary.</i><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One of the necessary paradigm shifts that has transpired over the past decade is recognizing the painful truth that I, along with so many of my cohorts, have been erased by adoption. Through adoption, we were required to participate in the erasure of not only our ethnic and cultural identities but our genetic and ancestral identities.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once we arrived here in America, we disappeared. What do I mean by this statement?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">An original performance piece I wrote and subsequently performed in the fall of 2018 attempts to elucidate this erasure through poetic prose:</span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></i>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">War</span></i></span></i></div>
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<i><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">was the beginning</span></i></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">of a New Death</span></i></div>
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<i><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">for Two Hundred Thousand of Us</span></i></i></div>
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<i></i>
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<i><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We vanished and</span></i></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">are vanishing</span></i></div>
<i></i>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">like a secret</span></i></i></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">that lies down with the dead,</span></i></div>
<i></i>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">as though we had never lived.</span></i></i></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Being born in Korea of Korean people only to be taken from them to be given to White America and its people demanded that we forsake the identities bestowed upon us through DNA and history.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And yet, how does one erase DNA and history? </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Adoption has taught me, one child at a time.</span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Taking a Korean child from her original family, people, community, and nation and placing her in a foreign family, people, community, and nation requires the erasure of the previous. It’s inevitable and necessary, both practically and for survival.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I forgot everything, because I had to do so in order to survive within a community that was ultimately hostile toward people that look like me. I was adopted in 1975--not too long after the American/Vietnam War which had followed previous violent conflicts between America and Asian nations, including World War 2 and the Korean War. Furthermore, I was adopted into a White American <i>military</i> family. </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Cojf1Muh6k2zQ50HPUo6F57406nL0m-_9FtheZ4FtelwJQ3_6_lISXXoY7RAkc6MuKdv7LptPIPdxbF_kVGl37_YfzmyyqEQ-uXm8V3QMMlht-rOZ5fM19mcsdiRSsBC8Lpz00lNnC0B/s1600/geoff+missy+halloween.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="996" data-original-width="1512" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Cojf1Muh6k2zQ50HPUo6F57406nL0m-_9FtheZ4FtelwJQ3_6_lISXXoY7RAkc6MuKdv7LptPIPdxbF_kVGl37_YfzmyyqEQ-uXm8V3QMMlht-rOZ5fM19mcsdiRSsBC8Lpz00lNnC0B/s320/geoff+missy+halloween.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Halloween, 1982</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hence, I spent the majority of my childhood growing up on U.S. military bases both overseas and here in the States. The irony of being an Asian child adopted into a White American military family growing up in Asian countries and otherwise on U.S. military bases is not lost on me. As I addressed in <i>"<a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2019/01/colonized-through-adoption-whiteness-as.html">Colonized Through Adoption</a>,"</i> my life was the exemplification of Whiteness as both Savior and Oppressor, Savior and Colonizer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Imagine being the lone Asian face riding your bike, playing on the playground, walking to the bus, attending school--but on a U.S. military base? Imagine finding yourself in this context as a child, coupled with the “perpetual foreigner” stereotype. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Subconsciously, a child takes all that in and knows what needs to be done. You make yourself disappear. You make sure your Asianness vanishes, as though it never existed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And at the time I was growing up, folks didn’t even know what Korea was. I was attending schools consisting primarily of Caucasian children who had not yet been alive long enough to know that the world was inhabited by other Asian countries beyond China, Japan, and Vietnam.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">People often refer to the Korean War as the forgotten war. </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">While I was growing up trying to explain to my friends from where I had come, it wasn’t only the war that had been forgotten. It was as though the country had been forgotten, and with it, as though the people from whom I had come never existed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Because of my utter isolation from Korean and Asian communities due to my complete submersion within White communities, there were times that even in my child’s mind I began to wonder if perhaps Korea was a make-believe far-off land contrived to keep children like me in the dark, away from the families to whom we truly belonged, or maybe to protect us from a peril that would otherwise endanger our lives.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Or maybe, I was who the adoption papers said I was--a child abandoned by her mother and Korea, an insignificant place, so poor and so forgotten, that no one cared to inform their children of its people or their existence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This is the inevitable and cruel erasure I speak of. The forced and choice-less vanishing that we adoptees must ultimately endure in order to steel ourselves from what is obvious to not only us but to everyone else around us--we do not belong.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>So, we accept our Korean names being replaced with American ones. Our original languages being replaced with English. We accept that we have White parents and that we are being raised as White sons and daughters. We accept that we will most likely never know who we look like or why we are who we are. We accept that while we were born in Korea and we look Korean, we are expected to forsake those origins as though they never existed and replace them with White Eurocentric origins. We accept that when we are asked to create a family tree for a school assignment that not only we but our eventual children are expected to simply draft ourselves into a genealogy as though nailing a frond from a palm tree onto an apple tree is perfectly normal.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Adoption and erasure are inextricable from one another, just as war and killing are two sides of the same coin.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The moment I began to have the courage and strength to acknowledge this truth is the moment I began to redress that erasure. Of course, I cannot magically rematerialize all that was erased. But I can begin to examine what faint markings remain and either rewrite or write anew what I discover along the way.</span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The erasure by adoption need not be complete nor permanent.<i> For while it is true that adoption erases DNA and history one child at a time, it is also true that DNA and history can be and will be reclaimed one adult at a time.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">__________</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>*</i><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>The month of January 2019 marks a decade since I reunited with my Korean family. I am publishing a series titled, "<a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/search?q=reflections+from+the+other+side">Reflections from the Other Side of 10 Years Post-Reunion</a>" to honor and explore what I have learned over the past decade.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>**You can read more regarding the topic of identity erasure, <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2017/07/lessons-in-whiteness-fragile-oppressor.html">here</a> and <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2014/09/claiming-white-american-ethnicity-as.html">here</a>.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span>Milahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14088039434355591753noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-16392430791220142872019-01-20T09:00:00.001-05:002020-11-30T21:00:19.156-05:00Are You Anti-Adoption is Like Asking Are you Anti-Amputation?*<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWraQt3jiHWolnRglVxRgvA3c4FV5Uku3pVW27aRMPmwLMiDaPZ2H2KmxGiKQbuklOHcMmr4p5Qm4sb-Dt5MhA_6e4_Y2Nl8MoVeRaCTGFKeIyZwIwxP03LtcRFb9d8xoznVLGEQYl8F5B/s1600/_MG_5654.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWraQt3jiHWolnRglVxRgvA3c4FV5Uku3pVW27aRMPmwLMiDaPZ2H2KmxGiKQbuklOHcMmr4p5Qm4sb-Dt5MhA_6e4_Y2Nl8MoVeRaCTGFKeIyZwIwxP03LtcRFb9d8xoznVLGEQYl8F5B/s320/_MG_5654.jpg" width="320" /></a>Recently I published an essay titled, “<a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2019/01/i-dont-believe-in-adoption-anymore-10.html">I Don’t Believe in Adoption Anymore</a>,” as a part of my series “<a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/search?q=reflections+from+the+other+side">Reflections From the Other Side of 10 Years Post-Reunion</a>." Inevitably, a reader always asks some variation of the question, "are you anti-adoption?"</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">
This time, the specific question was <i>“Is this post advocating against adoption?”</i></div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">
It’s a common question I have come to appreciate, because it always leads to deeper discussion and education. It also keeps me honest by compelling me to revisit the question and re-examine what I actually think--because our perspectives and views are not static. They often evolve over time as we gain new information and circumstances change.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">
When answering questions like these, I like to use metaphor to illustrate why these types of questions are inherently problematic and almost impossible to answer. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">
For instance, when you ask an adoptee are you “advocating against adoption,” it’s akin to asking me if I am “advocating against amputation?”</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">
Ultimately, it’s the wrong question to ask.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">
The question we should be asking is <i>“how do we prevent amputation?”</i> What other less extreme and consequential solutions can we implement and develop? What can we do to keep the leg or arm in tact?</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">
And certainly, I would never advocate for amputating someone’s leg or arm, especially against their will, for the sake of some other person over there saying they want another leg or arm. Can you imagine telling a person, “We need to amputate your leg to give it to that person over there who needs another leg.” That’s not even an option. Doesn’t even pop onto the radar of your mind, right?</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">
Well, that’s how we should feel about severing a child from his or her mother and family. It should generally just not be an option. Rather, like amputation, it should be a last and desperate resort when all other options have been pursued and cultivated.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">
So, when you encounter adoptees or others advocating for family preservation or expressing that poverty and duress should never be reasons to severe a child and mother for the purposes of adoption, rather than ask with alarm, “is this person advocating against adoption?,” I hope you’ll ask the question, “how do we prevent this from happening?” How do we prevent severance of mother and child? What can we do to prevent adoption?</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">
When we can move beyond the binary ideas of "<i>for vs. against"</i> adoption--and rather start asking <i>and</i> <i>answering</i> questions that get at the root of the issues, then we stop seeing adoption as a primary solution. We are able to see it as a symptom of deeper, more complex issues that need attention and care. </div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; white-space: pre-wrap;">
I am not advocating against adoption any more than I would advocate against amputation. Rather, I would prefer to prevent adoption just as I would prefer to prevent amputation. I don’t think that’s too much to ask, particularly in a day and age when the resources and opportunities to do so are at our fingertips. <br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
___________</div>
<i style="color: black; font-family: garamond;">*The month of January 2019 marks a decade since I reunited with my Korean family. I am publishing a series titled, "Reflections from the Other Side of 10 Years Post-Reunion" to honor and explore what I have learned over the past decade. For additional essays, click <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/search?q=reflections+from+the+other+side">here</a>.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSVi12tvbhcmQGZrcNJ0OESadlejNiDITfaE0Nrzs79ItNmshpfWghCbjg_VMb8a0uybdJnTu4lrsOZtRPPUU3110ftStGn660Jl9fB8OTj2R7Au94GdMei16UB9FuWBp1FoHRdE4HiiGp/s1600/_MG_5654.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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Milahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14088039434355591753noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-40546116625885784082019-01-18T09:00:00.000-05:002019-01-18T11:47:27.740-05:00Colonized Through Adoption: Whiteness as Savior and Oppressor*<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "garamond";"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond";"><i style="white-space: pre-wrap;">*The month of January 2019 marks a decade since I reunited with my Korean family. I am publishing a series titled, "Reflections from the Other Side of 10 Years Post-Reunion" to honor and explore what I have learned over the past decade. </i><i style="text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;">In my <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2019/01/i-dont-believe-in-adoption-anymore-10.html">first essay in the series</a>, I stated that finding my Korean family was the "advent of my Emergence." </i><i style="text-align: center; white-space: pre-wrap;">In the following essay, I elucidate in greater detail what this "Emergence" means to me.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "garamond";"><span style="font-size: 18.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;">_____</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpmoFKOsZWRB50e3ss58sgRa_2TGruOKLUpR2-z9LR1EKe9EfDu0WF48gFhWaDBuorGDlNoZApkgdLru0Q0s-73Yy9WKK-kNQwVi8GU58MohOXoYe3Ut_KlOpPnaXePwrKjglFnX4Qiei/s1600/IMG_2229.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpmoFKOsZWRB50e3ss58sgRa_2TGruOKLUpR2-z9LR1EKe9EfDu0WF48gFhWaDBuorGDlNoZApkgdLru0Q0s-73Yy9WKK-kNQwVi8GU58MohOXoYe3Ut_KlOpPnaXePwrKjglFnX4Qiei/s320/IMG_2229.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Visiting the DMZ</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">T</span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">o emerge from the darkness of the suffocating White Fog as a mind colonized through adoption is to realize that my existence was being used to uphold and perpetuate White Supremacy and White Saviorism, and hence to serve the systems and institutions used to continue to oppress fellow Black and Brown humans.** </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was a trophy to display and parade before the world upon which Whiteness could gaze to find affirmation of its superiority and goodness. To see an Asian person being properly kept in her place to serve the egos of Whiteness. They could look at me and know that they had conquered not only a person but an entire people and nation--that Whiteness had so effectively subjugated not only this child but also her people and country that they too came to believe that Whiteness was ultimately superior, ultimately more worthy of its people, its land, and its children.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">This journey of awakening that began over a decade ago has been a painful and startling emancipation from the toxic gas of the White Fog that acts upon your mind like a poison that makes you forget all that you know, that you will remember only what they want you to know. The more you breathe it in, the more you live in it, the more you see the world through it, the more all truth becomes obscured until it completely dissolves beyond your perception that there is no other side or view or possibility other than the unequivocal goodness of Whiteness. And then, the more you lose yourself and become who they want you to be: a proselyte of and an evangelist for their Doctrine of the Infinite Goodness of Whiteness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Emergence almost feels like a death only to be resurrected into a world more horrific and violent and oppressive than you ever imagined.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Emergence reveals more blood, more brutality, more pain, more terror, more atrocity and genocide and annihilation and destruction than one would ever want to know.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">The realization that so much of the world you live in is the result of the violence, genocide, and oppression exacted by Whiteness against your fellow Black and Brown human beings is like the light of a wild, unyielding fire that destroys all that you thought you knew--and the closer you get to it, the more likely you are to be consumed by its flames, simultaneously willingly and against your will. You begin to long for the comfort of the burning roar that gives you the light and the warmth of which your mind has long been starved. And yet, the inevitable pain, wounds, and scars that must emerge with such revelation become all the more prominent and pervasive.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Emergence reveals that the White World is anything but white. Rather it is an insatiable darkness veiled as light. It is the continuous infliction of utter horror and pain upon Brown and Black people re-branded as saviorism and martyrdom to indulge and coddle the fragile White Ego.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have an excruciatingly difficult time articulating how utterly, profoundly crushing the burden of this emergence is and how it grows. How its weight seems only to increase rather than lighten. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Through adoption, my life became--against my will and choice--</i></span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>t</i></span><i style="white-space: pre-wrap;">he exemplification of Whiteness as both Savior and Oppressor.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">How does one begin to unload decades of racism and colonization within the context of a family, church, and community that I had grown to love and that I thought had grown to love me, only to discover that underneath the surface was a depth of darkness, brutality, and oppression of the people and nation from which I came, along with every brown and black nation on earth. That this beloved community that I called mother, father, brother, sister, friend since infancy had also been complicit and continues to be complicit in the oppression, brutality, and injustice inflicted upon people who look like I do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">I try to tell myself that deep down, they love me. And yet, deep down, I also feel, see, recognize that they loved me, in large part, for how I could serve their Whiteness--not intentionally, but as an inextricable part of their implicit bias passed on to them through a system of white supremacy and privilege that is so ingrained within their life experience that it is almost genetic. </span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">As long as I stayed in my designated role, as long as I played the part that confirmed their biases, as long as I didn’t try to be any part of myself that challenged their presumptions, that rejected their expectations, that acknowledged their privilege, that saw the dark underbelly of Whiteness, that spoke the whole truth of history, that embraced my own origins and history, then they loved me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">But once I began to emerge, the strained and tense threads of that love also became increasingly apparent.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">The love that belonged to me from them was of the kind that a colonizer has for the colonized. The love they gave to me was that of a master over his servants. The love that a conqueror has for the conquered. Love given to those viewed as savages, as primitive, as less than they. A love born of pity, because they see the subject as inherently inferior. The love of narcissism--loving only that which loyally and persistently adulates, lauds, and praises the narcissist.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">This is the kind of emergence that I have come to both dread yet seek. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">This kind of awakening is what it feels like to simultaneously die inside while being born to oneself, over and over again. To realize that you lived the first half of your life subjugated and oppressed, serving every whim, every desire of the fragile ego of your oppressor. That you existed to perpetuate the falsehoods of White Saviorism and Martyrdom. To realize that the ones you called family, the ones you loved with all your heart for all of your life spent so much of that time seeing you not as one of them, but rather as a charitable endeavor to serve their egos and narrow, White-centric worldview where all Brown and Black people are inferior and in need of a White Savior.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">And yet even as you emerge, that same oppression continues to pull at your heels, threatening to swallow you whole again.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Maintaining emergence requires daily vigilance. It requires never sleeping again. A relentless state of both exhaustion and alertness.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>You have to learn not to fear yourself. </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Emergence requires undoing decades of being indoctrinated to fear who you were born to be<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">Because that is what my Oppressors taught me, trained me to believe--that who I am is to be feared. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">I learned to suppress, denigrate, obscure, devalue any skill, talent, or passion I felt teeming within. And now, as I try to awaken it, as I try to fan it into flame, I feel terror and futility. Like an animal who refuses to exit its cage--terrified of freedom because it has only known captivity. </span><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">Other times, I feel like an impostor and a fraud, or like a spoke in a wheel spinning hopelessly in the mud. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">And yet somehow, I also find the strength, hope, perseverance, and love to finally shed the cold bars of the cage in which I have dwelled for most of my life. Somehow, I continue to choose to venture out, to cultivate the courage and resilience to wander great distances, until I hope one day to find myself to have traveled so far that I will never return. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">The truth is that I do not know that I will ever truly break free of the bonds that have held me down for so long. I do not even know ultimately what that would mean or how that would look. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;">All I know is that I cannot help but try--to pull, push, fight, work feverishly and fervently to allow this emergence to unfurl that I may take on my true form with clarity and power, because <b>I must believe that the world needs <i>all of us </i>to awaken and emerge from the minds that colonize us</b>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "garamond"; font-size: 14pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">______</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i style="white-space: normal;">*This is the third essay in a series titled, "Reflections from the Other Side of 10 Years Post-Reunion," that I am publishing as I examine the past 10 years since reuniting with my Korean family. To view additional essays in this series, click <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/search?q=reflections+from+the+other+side">here</a>.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i style="white-space: normal;">**The above words are actually quite frightening for me to publish and put out into the public space, because I know how extreme and radical they will be perceived to be by some. The above essay is to be read within not only the broader historical and sociopolitical context of systematic and institutionalized racism, white supremacy, and oppression upon which this country is built, but also with an understanding of the role that implicit bias and white privilege play. More specifically, it is not that I believe that White parents do not love their adopted children of color. But I do believe that without conscious efforts to educate themselves, White adoptive parents struggle to escape the fog of implicit bias and privilege that clouds their vision and ability to acknowledge and affirm the racial and historical realities of their adopted children of color and the communities from which they originated. And hence, whether directly or indirectly, <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2017/07/lessons-in-whiteness-fragile-oppressor.html">they become complicit in the oppression and marginalization of their adopted children of color and their communities</a>. And for those readers who will inevitably assume that "She must have had a bad upbringing" or "She must not love her adoptive parents," please read this post, "<a href="http://yoonsblur.blogspot.com/2011/03/yes-i-love-my-parents.html">Yes, I love my parents</a>," at my retired adoption blog, "<a href="http://yoonsblur.blogspot.com/">Yoon's Blur</a>." </i></span></div>
Milahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14088039434355591753noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-5804619325030188612019-01-15T09:00:00.000-05:002019-04-24T11:31:49.037-04:00Adopted Babies Grieve*<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="dmibj" data-offset-key="f2pri-0-0">
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<span data-offset-key="f2pri-0-0">When I first joined my new family, in a new home, in a new country with new sounds and unfamiliar smells and foods, I cried and screamed unabated for days on end. My Mom was so concerned she took me to see a doctor. The doctor diagnosed me with “acute separation anxiety.”</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="d958s-0-0">I was 6 months old.</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="36l4a-0-0">Why am I sharing all of this?</span></div>
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People tend to casually dismiss adoptee loss and grief by arguing that we were “too young” to know the difference, as if being a baby means our feelings at that time were negligible and without effect, as if our loss and grief then had no impact on who we became and who we are today.</div>
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<span data-offset-key="bps31-0-0">Now that I am a mother myself, I become all the more convinced that such a narrative is a lie and does great harm to the well-being of adoptees.</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="6he1r-0-0">Babies grieve. Babies know. Babies understand when something is wrong, when someone is gone. When their worlds have been turned upside down and they have lost everything, they know.</span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75mjCphKKkE-d8EO4TaintFv8Qva67KwCtFvnID27V-EuQxJiZsTFTkc-btc47UCnZMgYc3fY7ew1KfwWQqMj9TpvfwC9SVchUqsftGWMVk-wJoRLEN_QoQm8ncZySH4GFjTY4-HHqV1k/s1600/Photo+on+2011-03-01+at+14.28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="435" data-original-width="376" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh75mjCphKKkE-d8EO4TaintFv8Qva67KwCtFvnID27V-EuQxJiZsTFTkc-btc47UCnZMgYc3fY7ew1KfwWQqMj9TpvfwC9SVchUqsftGWMVk-wJoRLEN_QoQm8ncZySH4GFjTY4-HHqV1k/s320/Photo+on+2011-03-01+at+14.28.jpg" width="276" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me holding my newborn son</td></tr>
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<span data-offset-key="ekfta-0-0">It was not simply “acute separation anxiety” that my 6-month old self was experiencing.</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="8fa0k-0-0">It was profound loss and grief. It was a traumatic separation. First, from my Omma--my Korean mother who had carried me within her own being for almost a year. And then a second traumatic separation from my foster mother--the only caregiver I had known for the first 6 months of my life.</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="fvla-0-0">I cried for days on end because I knew I had lost everything.</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="9i206-0-0">I was grieving.</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="2ov9u-0-0">Babies of course are not adults.</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="7a2am-0-0">But they are also not mindless blobs of fat and cuteness.</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="20qvv-0-0">Babies feel. Think. Know. At the most primal, vital level.</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="b2q1m-0-0">But babies will also do whatever it is that they need to do to survive. </span>And sometimes that means shutting down and trying to forget.</div>
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<span data-offset-key="akmat-0-0">I forgot. Or so I thought.</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="4bvqp-0-0">But now, I can’t forget.</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="fh4e5-0-0">Now, all I do is remember.</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="2ejfp-0-0">Every. Single. Day. Of my amazing, awful, beautiful, painful life.</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="5e2c2-0-0">Never forget.</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="6oea4-0-0">This is the mantra in the subconscious of every adoptee. Whether they know it or do not. Not because we want it that way, but because that is basic biology--</span><br />
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<span data-offset-key="4u7uh-0-0">DNA does not forget.</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8i9i2-0-0">And neither do our mothers.</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8i9i2-0-0">_________</span></div>
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<span data-offset-key="8i9i2-0-0"><i>*This is the second essay in a series titled, "Reflections from the Other Side of 10 Years Post-Reunion," that I am publishing as I examine the past 10 years since reuniting with my Korean family. To view additional essays in this series, click <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/search?q=reflections+from+the+other+side">here</a>.</i></span></div>
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Milahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14088039434355591753noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-46471862011054691392019-01-13T12:29:00.002-05:002019-11-07T13:07:23.091-05:00I Don't Believe in Adoption Anymore: 10 Years Post Reunion*<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">A decade has passed. </span><i style="text-align: center;">Ten</i><span style="text-align: center;"> years.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">January 7th used to be just another day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now January 7th marks the day I got <i>THE</i> phone call.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The phone call that taught me the impossible can in fact become possible. The phone call that opened the portal to the world I thought I would never find again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The phone call that has also taught me that grief can last a lifetime. And that finding does not always mean knowing.<b> </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In the past decade, I have learned that resolution for those who were lost from one another is elusive. I have learned that pain does not always diminish, but rather it adapts. It metamorphoses. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There is not a day that slips through my fingertips that I do not carry with me an endless sorrow, because within me there is also a ceaseless love. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">But this endless sorrow and ceaseless love have done anything but diminish from my life. Rather their eternal lingering has enriched my life beyond measure.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">With this kind of pain has also come a depth of living that makes every moment feel precious, every relationship golden.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Meal with my Appa in Seoul</span></td></tr>
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<span style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A meal with my daughter is everything but mundane. A conversation with my son is everything but ordinary.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Spending fifteen committed years with my partner is everything but unremarkable. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Because as someone who lost everything before I knew what everything was, I cannot take for granted how fragile, how temporal these moments can be if we do not choose to protect and cherish them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ten years ago, I got the phone call that my Korean mother and Korean father were not only still alive, but that they wanted to meet me--after being separated for over three decades. </span><br />
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<i style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That moment changed my life forever. It is still changing my life forever. It will never stop changing my life forever. </span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And it also changed my mind forever.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I used to believe that adoption was beautiful and that it was the best thing for a person like me.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Lanterns at a Korean Buddhist Temple</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I don’t believe that anymore.**</span><br />
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<span style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now I believe that families should never be separated. And they should certainly never ever be separated because of poverty or duress or religion or lack of education. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I used to believe that my Omma gave me away because she loved me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now I believe that my Omma gave me away because she was brainwashed with guilt into believing that she was giving me a better life by giving me away. Now I know that my Omma gave me away because America and her own people taught her that White people are more worthy of her children, because being poor, uneducated, brown, and unconverted somehow rendered her love less worthy than a love that was rich, educated, Christian, and white.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">A decade later, January 7th represents to me the beginning of my Awakening. The advent of my Emergence. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It is the moment I began to understand transracial and transnational adoption in its larger sociopolitical context--as an extension of White American imperialism and colonialism sharing roots entangled with a long history of white supremacy that has relentlessly engaged in the erasure of black and brown people through colonization and brutality, invasion and war, slavery and apartheid, imprisonment and oppression, and yes, family separation and adoption. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To say that these epiphanies have been a universe-altering paradigm shift is putting it lightly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And yet, ten years deep into this journey of reclamation and proclamation of who I am and ultimately, of who I now know I have always been--all I can say is brace yourselves, because I am only just getting started.</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">*This is the first essay in a series titled, "Reflections from the Other Side of 10 Years Post-Reunion" that I am publishing as I examine the past 10 years since reuniting with my Korean family. Click <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/search?q=reflections+from+the+other+side">here</a> for additional essays in the series.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">**Also, for those who are upset or disturbed by my statements that I do not believe in adoption anymore or that I believe families should never be separated. I encourage you to spend some time reflecting upon why it upsets or disturbs you for me to express these ideas, and to explore the complexities at the root of my statements. What do you think I mean when I state I do not believe in adoption anymore? What do I mean when I say I do not believe families should ever be separated due to poverty or duress? What <a href="https://bettercarenetwork.org/organizations-working-on-childrens-care">alternative or additional options</a> might there be to family separation? Can you ponder perhaps the practice of family preservation? What would a <a href="https://reunite.live/">commitment to family preservation look like</a>? Is permanent separation and severance from one's family and origins truly necessary? What could replace orphanages? What could replace adoption agencies? Have you ever thought about family centers that could provide support and resources to empower at-risk families facing duress or poverty? To further educate yourself, click <a href="https://bettercarenetwork.org/library/particular-threats-to-childrens-care-and-protection/effects-of-institutional-care/families-not-orphanages">here</a>, <a href="https://bettercarenetwork.org/organizations-working-on-childrens-care">here</a>, and <a href="https://www.brandeis.edu/investigate/adoption/orphan-statistics.html">here</a>. Also, consider reading the book, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Child-Catchers-Rescue-Trafficking-Adoption-ebook/dp/B00BKRW582/ref=sr_1_fkmr2_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1547398130&sr=8-1-fkmr2&keywords=the+child+catchers+kathryn+joyce">The Child Catchers by Kathryn Joyce</a>.</span></i></div>
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Milahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14088039434355591753noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-13415088004878905422018-06-30T11:09:00.000-04:002018-11-21T00:11:03.555-05:0010 Lessons Being Adopted Taught Me<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adoptees On is a <a href="http://www.adopteeson.com/" target="_blank">Podcast</a> Hosted by Haley Radke.</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: center;"><u>1. I learned about being a minority.</u></span></div>
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Although my skin color is that of the dominant race, I learned early in life that I was part of a minority group.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was told I was adopted at a young age, so as I grew up, I noticed that the overwhelming majority of people I knew were living in biological families.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the 70’s,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>you mainly learned about other families by spending time with them, reading about them, or seeing them on T.V.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My first realization about the differences was when I saw a neighbor breast-feeding her baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think I went into shock because that was not something ever seen or talked about before in my home.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The Brady Bunch may have been a show I was attracted to because they were a non-traditional family in their time (step-family).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although the kids were not “adopted” formally, each spouse informally adopted the other spouse’s children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did not feel ostracized as a minority as a child; however, it is when I became an adult that I noticed the disparity of being adopted versus being biological.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You quickly become aware during conversations, or when you read obituaries or articles where certain members of families are singled out as “adopted” (why?) or you hear a joke being made about the “adopted kid” in the biological family (it’s not funny). “You never know what you are going to get” is a common thing I have heard about adopted kids, but the truth is, you never know what you are going to get with a biological kid either, but the point was . . . at least we know the bio kid is blood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Now days, these types of comments are referred to as micro-agressions. Five years ago, <a href="http://noapologiesforbeingme.blogspot.com/2014/08/the-reluctant-latina-how-dna-test-can.html" target="_blank">I learned that my biological father was Latino</a> and so it’s caused me to think about how I would have been treated differently had my immediate and extended family and community saw me as Latino and not White. </div>
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2. <u>I learned to</u> <u>Value <a href="http://www.adopteerightscoalition.com/" target="_blank">Equality</a></u></div>
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I have been in favor of gay marriage as an adult for years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was so happy when it became the law of our land because it never made sense to me to discriminate against people based on their sexual orientation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It goes back to #1, being a minority.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did not grow up with any gay relatives, nor as a child, did I know any adults who were gay (“gay” was the only term in my awareness at the time). <o:p></o:p></div>
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It wasn’t until I became an adult and worked with some folks who openly spoke to me about being LGBTQ+ that I began to understand more deeply. I now seek out this information via documentaries and follow political agendas of the anti-LGBTQ+ community.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
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And being part of a minority myself, I believe it gave me an inherent understanding that, in neither of our cases (being adopted or being LGBTQ+), were these life circumstances a choice that we made. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Attempting to order my original birth certificate and my adoption file from the powers that be and being denied was when it really brought the inequality home to me personally. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">As an adopted person, I am treated differently under the law than a biological person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is something deeply wrong with that picture.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I am to value my own equality, I have to value others’ equality. </div>
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3. <u>I learned reunion cannot repair ruptured connections</u></div>
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It is not possible to repair a ruptured connection that took place at birth or shortly after birth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure, a child can connect and bond with a different caregiver. And people can have positive reunions. However, the rupture of the original bond between mother and child can never be fully repaired.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reunion is an attempt at re-gaining what was lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, it is not possible to repair something as great as years of time that was missed out on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Children need time and they bond closest to those who spend the most time with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2012/10/paradox-by-lynn-grubb.html" target="_blank">Adoption </a></span></i><i><span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2012/10/paradox-by-lynn-grubb.html" target="_blank">creates a family out of strangers and strangers out of family</a><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 107%;"><a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2012/10/paradox-by-lynn-grubb.html" target="_blank">[1]</a></span></b></span><a href="file:///C:/Users/Matt/Documents/10%20Lessons%20Being%20Adopted%20Taught%20Me.docx#_ftn1" title=""><!--[endif]--></a></span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></i><span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-style: italic; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Even in an open adoption, the one-on-one bond that feeding and playing, or just living in the same house creates, cannot be duplicated or repaired during an adult reunion. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My own reunion, while positive in many senses, brought this lesson to me in a big way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What was broken in these primal relationships many years ago will never be fully repaired.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Growing up, I learned that my family’s way of dealing with grief was to bury your head in the sand. To basically <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not grieve</i>. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When my beloved cats, Snooper and Sneaker died, there was no viewing the body, no talk of what happened, no burial, vet visits or backyard funeral.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was told in an indirect way without the benefit of hugs and crying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even as adults, neither my brother or I were told when our paternal grandmother died in a home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked about her one day and that is when I learned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, no funeral or discussion about feelings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t until I was in my 30s that I saw my grandma’s tombstone that I realized it was not engraved properly!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to do better with my kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have had a lot of pets and it is a family event to go to the vet when a pet is gravely ill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We talk about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We cry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We make decisions about euthanasia together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We support each other through the grief.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Another big lesson about grief came when I had a miscarriage and entered therapy for grief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although my family of origin wanted to sweep it under the rug, I was forced to feel the full brunt of the reality of giving birth to a second term baby boy who was not alive. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had an angel of an RN who helped me through the first stages of that process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Finally, my greatest lesson about grief was when our family adopted our daughter and I watched as her birth mother distanced herself and eventually walked away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It threw me into a <a href="http://noapologiesforbeingme.blogspot.com/2016/12/she-didnt-remember-my-birthday.html" target="_blank">pit I had never experienced before</a> and the grief of the loss of my own mother finally came to light.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was excruciating to finally face the reality of my loss, after denying it for so many decades.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<u style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">5. I learned to value family history</span></u></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There is nothing like having zero access to your own family history to make you a huge fan of family history in general.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Family stories and ancestors have value to each and every one of us and when we don’t have access to that information, it can cause a lot of distress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rise of genealogy shows like “Finding Your Roots” on PBS and TLC’s “Who Do You Think You Are” is proof that almost everybody cares about where they come from, most of all those of us who don’t have the privilege of that information. In recent years, with the rise of <a href="http://noapologiesforbeingme.blogspot.com/p/blog-page.html" target="_blank">DNA testing</a>, I have become a huge fan of genetic genealogy and helping people in my community connect the dots.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><o:p> </o:p></span><u style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">6. I learned identity is fluid and ever-changing</span></u></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As an adopted person without any documented family history that I could get my hands on until mid-adulthood, I have looked back on how my identity has changed over the years. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Post-adoption, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I became the daughter of English, White, middle class, Presbyterians.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then, as an adult, I became a city-living, Italian (people around me kept telling me I looked Italian) who rejected the values of my childhood and was a non-church attender. Later after I married and before we bought a house in a Catholic neighborhood, my husband and I lived in a poor neighborhood close to downtown. (I called it our “sociological experiment”). We became members of a Baptist church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For a time, I volunteered in pro-life women’s clinics (my true self couldn’t stomach it, so this was a very brief period of time). Then later I became a pro-choice Catholic after identifying with the neighborhood we lived in and the school our son attended (plus I had learned my birth father was Catholic).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our family was hugely involved in the neighborhood parish and I truly admired how Catholic families value their children’s education. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In my 40’s, learning my maternal birth family was upper middle class, huge football fans, dog lovers (cat 😻lover first and foremost here) and FOX-News watchers was a bit of a shock to my system. Learning that for generations my maternal family were married in the same Congregational Church was eye-opening <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(never even heard of this Protestant denomination).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, meeting them helped me to solidify my own beliefs, values and how I see the world. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Today in my 50’s, I am a pro-choice, pro-LGBTQ+, animal loving, CCW toting, mixed race women who values equality, family, and peace. I vote Democrat for the most part but I have voted Republican. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am Protestant now; however, I recognize I could be any Christian denomination and still have a deep love of God, Jesus and nature. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our family purposefully chose where we now live because it is not considered being part of the country club neighborhoods that surround us to the north and to the south. We wanted our kids to experience as much diversity as possible in a mixed-class area of town with decent schools. Our neighbors are down-to-earth as are our friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe being adopted brought two paradoxical outcomes:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>identity confusion and the freedom to create my identity in a way that allowed me to fully show my true self at that time it was evolving. Without the blood ties and historical expectations that many non-adopted children inherit, I was able to create my identity outside of those confines. I am feeling more solid than ever these days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> 7. </o:p></span><u style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I Value <a href="https://familypreservation365.com/" target="_blank">Family Preservation</a></span></u></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I believe that families should be supported to stay together before the word adoption is ever uttered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Does that mean I think it’s ok for kids to be abused?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Absolutely not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, if a biological parent is not available to parent, I believe that family members or close friends (kinship care) is the next-best-thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A child loses too much when they lose all connection to their family and community. This is also true for adoptive families who later rupture. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not believe open adoption mitigates these losses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It helps but it can never fully repair the loss (see #3). Private Infant adoption allows one party (the mother) to relinquish a child and sever that child’s connection to their family and community.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no requirement that she seek a family member, in fact the law supports her to relinquish to strangers and to do it quickly. </span></div>
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<u style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">8. I learned to look at the adoption industry with a critical eye</span></u></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The multi-billion dollar industry of infant adoption and international adoption needs a complete over-haul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Paper orphans, coercion of mothers, leading parents to believe that adoption is just a form of educating kids in a foreign land, needs to stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Treating adopted people’s birth and adoption information as a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AdopteeRightsCoalition/" target="_blank">state secret is wrong</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unfortunately because we are a minority (see #1), our voices are not the loudest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Adoptive parents will have to be the biggest supporters of change before anyone will truly listen to adopted people.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p> </o:p></span><u><span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">9. It taught me about the freedom of creating your own family</span></u></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Similar to identity being a social construct, I am a big believer in” you choose your family”.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">This idea is supportive of adoption but also, more importantly, supportive of freedom in adulthood.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">As children, we had no choice.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Biological or adopted, we got what we got. Some of us won the parent lottery – others did not.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">The great thing about being an adult is you can create your own family any way you choose.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">If that means no biological or adoptive family and it consists only of supportive and loving friends and neighbors, then that’s o.k.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"> </span><i style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">You get to choose.</i></div>
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<u><span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">10. I learned about community</span></u></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I saved this one for last because it is the biggest and most important lesson and blessing I have received by being adopted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When invalidation comes walking through the door (which it invariably does being a public adoption blogger), I can turn to my community of adoptees, adoptive parents and birth parents who “get it”. They are always there. All I have to do is log into one of our private groups, attend</span></div>
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a <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AdoptionNetworkGreaterMiamiValley/" target="_blank">support meeting</a> or call a friend.. . . I have community and that means everything to me. 💓💓💓💓<o:p></o:p><br />
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<a href="https://www.amazon.com/default/e/B00HWGWHFG?redirectedFromKindleDbs=true" target="_blank">Lynn Grubb</a> lives in Ohio with her husband, daughter, dog, cat and two ferrets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Visit her at <a href="http://noapologiesforbeingme.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">NoApologies for Being Me. </a><o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/Matt/Documents/10%20Lessons%20Being%20Adopted%20Taught%20Me.docx#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 107%;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a> From the poem, “<a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2012/10/paradox-by-lynn-grubb.html" target="_blank">Paradox</a>” by Lynn Grubb<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-34690361708930102632018-06-26T08:59:00.004-04:002018-11-21T00:19:44.116-05:00ROUNDTABLE: Adoptees on Family Separation and Immigration Policy (Part 3) <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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ROUNDTABLE: <i>As adoptees, the writers of Lost Daughters share a history of separation from family. This gives us insight into the trauma of separation and influences our response to the separation of children and parents as a result of immigration policy. How have the Lost Daughters been affected by recent news coverage of this practice of family separation? What action steps do we recommend? What do we want others to understand about our own experience of separation and its relevance to this issue?</i><br />
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<a name='more'></a><br />
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<b>Karen Pickell:</b> The first thing I remember thinking when I became aware of the children being separated from their parents at the border is, why are government officials not keeping better records of where the kids are and who their parents are? Why are the parents not informed of where their children have been taken? Why are they not permitted contact with their children? And then I began contemplating the possible answers: Our government is deliberately losing these children in the system; they’re purposely transporting them far away from their families; they’re deliberately isolating them. <br />
<br />
It’s no secret to any of us familiar with the adoption machine that this is how it’s always been done. When I was born, I was removed from my mother because I was slated for adoption, even though it would be five weeks before she legally surrendered me. I was held in what was called an infant home for a total of three and a half months before my prospective adoptive parents were matched to me and took me to their home. Other potential adoptees were held in foster homes or in orphanages, sometimes for years, prior to their adoptions. I can’t help making comparisons between what these migrant children are experiencing and what adopted people have experienced for many decades. The severing of a child from her birth family is the first step on a grief journey that can last a lifetime.<br />
<br />
As Mila pointed out, there are many other historical examples in which the humanity of certain categories of people was disregarded and children were stolen from their families. This is, indeed, who we are.<br />
<br />
Children, particularly very young children, are often expected to adapt easily to new homes and new caregivers. Shower them with the fruits of privilege—comfortable homes, new clothes, abundant toys—and they are expected to forget they ever had another family at all. We adoptees know better. We know it is impossible to forget. The children who have been taken at our border are living in a horror movie conceived and directed by our own government, and we are complicit for having put criminals into power in the first place and for not holding our elected officials accountable. <br />
<br />
I do not think this horror story will end without sustained action from millions of us around the country. We as a nation have previously accepted genocide, slavery, orphan trains, internment camps, the Baby Scoop, Indian child removal, and adoptions of paper orphans from all over the world. We tolerate mass disruption of families due to disproportionate incarceration as well as the confusion of poverty with neglect. I am not at all confident that enough of us will stand up against this latest atrocity. I hope I’ll be surprised.<br />
<br />
What can average citizens, and particularly adoptees, do? Call or write your elected representatives at all levels of government. Speak up, make noise about what’s happening whenever and wherever you can. Challenge anyone in your life who finds it acceptable to kidnap children from their parents. Tell your own adoption story, including its pain, grief, and injustice. Donate time or money to organizations working directly with those coming here seeking safety. Reframe the conversation by rejecting language that dehumanizes migrants and immigrants (for example, they are not "illegals," they are families seeking asylum). <br />
<br />
Attend a <a href="https://act.moveon.org/event/families-belong-together_attend1/search/" target="_blank">Families Belong Together</a> event near you on Saturday, June 30. Follow the Facebook page <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AdopteesForReunification/" target="_blank">Adoptees for Reunification</a> for more ideas on how to help these vulnerable families. <br />
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I want to add two final thoughts pertaining directly to adoptees. It’s valid and important to point out the similarity between our experiences and what’s happening to these migrant children, but I hope we can do so in ways that don’t detract from the priority of helping these families who are in desperate need at this very moment. And lastly, but importantly, don’t give energy to anyone who criticizes how you respond to this situation. Each of us is dealing with seeing and hearing and reading about this trauma in our own way and in our own time. No effort you make is too small, and taking breaks to practice self-care by experiencing joy in your own life will help you be more effective in the long run. Let’s be kind to each other.<br />
<br />
<b>Mila Konomos:</b> Reading through Karen’s response prompted me to reflect a bit more personally about how these issues hit so close to home for me on so many levels. <br />
<br />
There is of course, as already addressed, the experience as an adoptee of being separated from our families. We know the long-term psychological trauma that results from being forcibly removed from our mothers and origins. Watching and reading about these families being ripped apart brings that trauma to the surface again. I have found myself cycling through loss and grief, depression and anxiety. I have struggled with feeling paralyzed and re-traumatized by the images and stories of children being torn away from their mothers and loved ones. I have wept and cried on a daily basis. And as I watch my own children play, I cannot help but imagine the terror and devastation that both my children and I would experience were we to be forced apart--because I have already experienced that terror and devastation as an adoptee.<br />
<br />
But I also want to add to the conversation the way this zero tolerance/family separation policy is experienced by an adoptee who is an immigrant of color.<br />
<br />
As a transracial, transnational adoptee, I am also an (involuntary) immigrant of color, who is a naturalized citizen. Amidst the ongoing and increasing vitriolic anti-immigrant rhetoric and policies targeting immigrant families of color in particular, it is not a stretch to imagine myself being forcibly separated from my children, not only because I know what it feels like to be separated from one’s family, but also because I am an immigrant whose appearance is interpreted as a “perpetual foreigner.” <br />
<br />
I know that for some the consequences of these policies may at times feel somewhat abstract and far off, because they do not directly affect your lives and families. But for someone who is a brown immigrant and naturalized citizen brought here through transracial, transnational adoption, the current policies and practices are terrifying and horrific, not simply because I can relate to the emotion of it, but because my face labels me among those that these policies and rhetoric target. <br />
<br />
The consequences of this hysteria are not abstract or faroff. They are very real. They are very personal. They are here--in my home, with my children, in my daily life. When I am driving and a Border Patrol or police vehicle pulls up alongside my car, my heart rate jumps and my palms start sweating and all I can think about is my kids riding in the back seat and that I hope the agent in the car keeps driving. In the event that I do get pulled over, my husband actually recently asked me to start carrying my passport, particularly when driving in certain counties of our state, for fear that my driver’s license will not be sufficient proof of my citizenship. Because citizens who look like me get detained. My children keep trying to clarify where I was born and what it means to be a citizen. <br />
<br />
These are some of the ways that my family and I are being affected by the zero tolerance/family separation policy emotionally and in our everyday lives. <br />
<br />
And with each day that goes by with increasingly extreme anti-immigrant rhetoric and policies permitted to thrive, it becomes less and less of a stretch that one day I myself may face being separated from my own children through detainment or deportation, simply for the color of my skin and the “foreign” origin of my body.<br />
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<b>Von:</b> I'm irate, outraged, sad and hoping it can be stopped.<br />
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<b>Rebecca Hawkes:</b> I have been struggling. Even though my domestic infant adoption story differs from the current situation in many ways, even though I ended up in a good adoptive situation, have good reunions with both parents, and have spent years working through my adoption issues to reach a place of peace and acceptance regarding my own separation and adoption story, current events are affecting my nervous system in a very powerful way. I keep finding myself opening and closing articles because I am too triggered by them to keep reading. I can only imagine what it is like for those who have the additional factors of immigration, race, or citizenship status as part of the personal experience connecting them to this issue. To be honest, I want to ignore this whole thing. I want to bury my head in the sand, to protect myself. But I can't. Yes, it is true that this is far from the first time our nation has been involved in separation of families, but this is the time when I have to choose which side of history to be on. I can't choose silence or inaction.<br />
<br />
I'm trying to focus on action steps. (In addition to resources mentioned above and in <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2018/06/roundtable-adoptees-on-family.html" target="_blank">part one</a> of this series, I'll add <a href="http://www.ireallydocare.com/">www.IReallyDoCare.com.</a>) I'm also thinking about ways that we as adoptees must push back against the foster-care/adoption "solution" that is already beginning to emerge. <br />
<br />
This weekend, I encountered the following in an <a href="https://johnraible.wordpress.com/2018/06/23/serving-refugees-serving-children/" target="_blank">blog post</a> by adoptee and educator Dr. John Raible:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
One thing I'm clear about: The proper response to the current tragedy is NOT swooping in to "rescue" kids, as North Americans are prone to do, for example, after disaster strikes. Adoption industry professionals should take a hands-off approach and curb their self-serving child-snatching tendencies. </blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Predictably, at least one cable news anchor, Mika Brezinsky, voiced the naivete of many well-meaning Americans, when she said she is thinking about fostering one of the refugee kids, as if that will solve the crisis. Keep in mind how eerily reminiscent of the Native child-snatching 'maternalists' (documented by Margaret Jacobs) such a naive response actually sounds."</blockquote>
As adoptees, we at Lost Daughters have been pushing back against the misguided "adoption fixes everything" narrative for years. As much as I want to be done talking about adoption and separation issues, I can't sit quietly as history repeats itself and the trauma cycle rolls on, with devastating effect for a new generation of children.<br />
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<i>Further reading:</i><br />
<i><a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2018/06/roundtable-adoptees-on-family.html" target="_blank">ROUNDTABLE: Adoptees on Family Separation and Immigration Policy (Part 1)</a></i><br />
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<i><a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2018/06/roundtable-adoptees-on-family_25.html" target="_blank">ROUNDTABLE: Adoptees on Family Separation and Immigration Policy (Part 2)</a></i><br />
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<i><a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2018/06/adoption-and-child-separation-at-border.html" target="_blank">Adoption and Child Separation at the Border</a></i></div>
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Rebecca Hawkeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10736626549316682171noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-26230029255696527922018-06-25T07:00:00.000-04:002018-11-21T00:09:24.122-05:00ROUNDTABLE: Adoptees on Family Separation and Immigration Policy (Part 2)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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ROUNDTABLE: <i>As adoptees, the writers of Lost Daughters share a history of separation from family. This gives us insight into the trauma of separation and influences our response to such things as the separation of children and parents as a result of immigration policy. How have the Lost Daughters been affected by recent news coverage of this practice of family separation? What action steps do we recommend? What do we want others to understand about our own experience of separation and its relevance to this issue?</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<a name='more'></a><i><br /></i>
<b>Lynn Grubb: </b>As I’ve watched this nightmare unfold, it has helped me to realize that prevention is key. #Keepingfamiliestogether isn’t just a hashtag, it’s a philosophy. If we truly want laws that prevent these types of situations, we have to become politically involved. We can’t sit idly by and allow our government to commit these types of atrocities on innocents. The parents may have broken the law; however, the kids had no choice. I truly believe the current administration separated children from their parents to send a message to others: “you too will be punished”. As Mila points out, this is not a new strategy to get people in line; however, in no way should it be tolerated in a democracy.<br />
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<b>Mila Konomos:</b> First of all, thank you, Lynn, for acknowledging that the current types of policies being enforced have no place in democracy. Obviously, I absolutely agree. <br />
<br />
I appreciate what you shared because it has provided the opportunity to clarify certain points as well as deepen the discussion.<br />
<br />
In particular, I would like to further clarify your reference to “The parents may have broken the law; however, the kids had no choice.” I want to help educate and inform others about the complexities<br />
<br />
Firstly, actually, not all of these families have “broken the law.” And in fact, quoting Raymond Partolan, who is both a local immigration paralegal for Kuck Immigration Firm as well as a Dreamer, <br />
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“For those of you saying you support “legal immigration to the United States,” but are outraged by the people seeking asylum at our southern border, please understand that presenting yourself at the border for asylum after having fled persecution in your country is perfectly legal and one of the four ways you can legally immigrate to the US. Please educate yourselves.”<br />
<br />
In short, there are families presenting themselves voluntarily at ports of entry to the U.S. pleading for asylum, which again is a perfectly legal form of immigration. <br />
<br />
And prior to the current administration’s policies of zero tolerance and family separation, which has suddenly criminalized asylum seekers, the U.S. could follow the procedures of “the Family Case Management Program, which allowed families to be placed into a program, together, that connected them with a case manager and legal orientation that ensured they understood how to apply for asylum and attend immigration court proceedings.” (Amrit Cheng, ACLU) <br />
<br />
This program actually had a 99.6% appearance rate--meaning that almost 100% of the asylum seekers in this program were showing up to their immigration court hearings. <br />
<br />
This program is a successful example of not only a more humane solution for those coming to the border seeking refuge and asylum, but it also happens to be a less costly one (for all of you concerned about fiscal responsibility).<br />
<br />
But sadly, Trump ended this program in 2017 in response to the announcement to begin using family separation as a deterrent strategy.<br />
<br />
Furthermore, to say that these parents have broken the law, while perhaps technically true in some cases (but again, not all) unfortunately has the result of criminalizing their desperation and suffering. <br />
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To quote one of my favorite poets, Warsan Shire:<br />
<br />
no one leaves home unless<br />
home is the mouth of a shark<br />
you only run for the border<br />
when you see the whole city running as well<br />
you only leave home<br />
when home won’t let you stay.<br />
no one leaves home unless home chases you<br />
fire under feet<br />
hot blood in your belly<br />
it’s not something you ever thought of doing<br />
until the blade burnt threats into<br />
your neck<br />
you have to understand,<br />
that no one puts their children in a boat<br />
unless the water is safer than the land<br />
no one burns their palms<br />
under trains<br />
beneath carriages<br />
no one spends days and nights in the stomach of a truck<br />
feeding on newspaper unless the miles travelled<br />
means something more than journey.<br />
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I think the poem eloquently and poignantly summarizes the complexity of the circumstances fleeing immigrants face. They’re not showing up at the border because they don’t respect the law. They’re not pleading for asylum after making the most horrendous journey of their lives because they want to break the law.<br />
<br />
They’re arriving at the border because they’re desperate. As Warsan Shire wrote, “no one leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark, you only run for the border when you see the whole city running as well, you only leave home when home won’t let you stay, ”<br />
<br />
These families are selling all they own to make a treacherous and uncertain journey that could end in rape, violence, even death, not because they don’t care about the laws of this nation, but because their realities allowed them no other option. And if you can honestly imagine yourself in their shoes, would you feel any differently? Would you not have felt as though you had no other option?<br />
<br />
As adoptees, we know the circumstances our original mothers faced. They were powerless. They truly felt they had no other choice than to relinquish us to strangers. Their situations in reality did not allow them a true choice. <br />
<br />
Similarly, immigrants crossing into America have fled circumstances which also did not allow them a true choice.<br />
<br />
Hence, to say that the children had no choice, while true, negates the reality that their parents also felt they had no other choice--or once again in the powerful words of Shire, “no one puts their children in a boat unless the water is safer than the land.”<br />
<br />
And ultimately, “when injustice becomes law, resistance becomes duty.” <br />
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Laws are there to serve humankind, not the converse. Hence, when humankind uses the rule of law to inflict cruelty upon its fellow human, then the law must be broken. <br />
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In the U.S., it was once the law that a white person and a black person could not marry. It was the law that white and black people could not eat in the same restaurants or drink from the same water fountains or use the same restrooms. It once was the law that Chinese people could not immigrate to this country. And in the hysteria of WWII, the rule of law demanded that 120,000 Japanese Americans be held in concentration camps, i.e., prisons, simply for being of Japanese descent, while around the same time, Operation Wetback, an immigration law passed in 1954 resulted in the deportation of 1.3 million Mexicans.<br />
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I share these examples to demonstrate that the simple existence of a law does not automatically mean it is a good law nor that it must be upheld or enforced, particularly when it is a law that legislates cruelty and dehumanization of our fellow humankind.<br />
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<i><a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2018/06/roundtable-adoptees-on-family.html" target="_blank">Click here for part 1 of this conversation</a>.<br />Part 3 will be published at www.thelostdaughters.com tomorrow</i>.Rebecca Hawkeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10736626549316682171noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-9808242778579981922018-06-24T19:00:00.000-04:002018-11-21T00:09:42.324-05:00ROUNDTABLE: Adoptees on Family Separation and Immigration Policy (Part 1)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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ROUNDTABLE:<i> As adoptees, the writers of Lost Daughters share a history of separation from family. This gives us insight into the trauma of separation and influences our response to the separation of children and parents as a result of immigration policy. How have the Lost Daughters been affected by recent news coverage of this practice of family separation? What action steps do we recommend? What do we want others to understand about our own experience of separation and its relevance to this issue?</i><br />
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<a name='more'></a><br /><br />
<b>Julie Stromberg:</b> I am completely distraught over what is happening. As a person who was literally taken from my mother's arms, placed in foster care, and then sent to live with a new family, I'm extremely sensitive to the trauma that these parents and children are enduring right now. Particularly the children, however, because of the shared experience aspect. <br />
<br />
As a Catholic Charities adoptee, I have also been paying close to attention to the reactions of religious institutions to this matter. Many, including the Catholic Church, are speaking out about how it is morally and ethically wrong to separate children from their parents. Yet, religious institutions, again including the Catholic Church, run adoption agencies and actively fight against adoptees gaining equal rights under law to non-adoptees. The best interests of the children is often not the primary concern. <br />
<br />
As soon as I heard that Bethany Christian Services is in charge of fostering the children sent to Michigan, my heart sank even lower. Our government has put a private, religiously-affiliated organization that operates a large adoption agency in charge of the children's well-being. <br />
<br />
And hundreds of children have been sent to New York City, apparently without the mayor's knowledge. Not sure what organization is charged with the children's well-being there.<br />
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My fear is that these children will soon be lost to the United States Adoption Industrial Complex. There does not seem to be a family reunification plan. And what are the chances that our government has drafted any documentation connecting the children to their families of origin?<br />
<br />
Our government has created a modern dystopian nightmare.<br />
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<b>julie j: </b>Honestly, I've found it to be triggering. When I lost my mother, I was about the same age as the little girl they have been showing on the news. The crying tapes is hard to hear. Any parent knows the instinct is to go to the child & comfort them. Harder still is the validation by all the medical experts on how traumatizing it is for young children to be separated from their families. How can they not recognize that adoptees go through the same damn thing?<br />
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<b>Mila Konomos:</b> Before answering the specific questions presented, I feel compelled to state that the practice of family separation, and in particular, removing children from their families is not a new practice in America.</div>
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<br />
If we are to address what is currently happening, we must first acknowledge what has already happened, and what has been happening for generations in this country--that ultimately this nation of the so-called United States of America was and continues to be built upon the ongoing and repeated practice of forcible separation of families en mass. In short, what is going on now is simply a continuation of the American tradition of (to quote fellow Korean Adoptee, Kevin Haebom Vollmers) "systemic White America separating, destroying, pillaging, appropriating, and commodifying Brown families and bodies, something we've been doing as a country to the Native and POC communities even before we were a nation."<br />
<br />
It began when the first colonizers came to this land, stole it from the indigenous people through genocide and brutality, and ultimately ripped indigenous children from their families to live in orphanages and eventually forced them to live with White families. It continued with generations of slavery that violently separated families to be sold off piecemeal as property--and in present day manifests as the thinly veiled practice of taking black children away from their families only to be given over to the anti-black systems of foster care and adoption along with disproportionate rates of incarceration of Black Americans that also results in the separation of families. </div>
<div>
<br />
We saw it during the baby scoop era between the 1950s and 1970s, when babies were snatched from the arms of unwed mothers and given to those deemed more worthy. During the same period, as a direct result of the Korean War, Korean children separated from their families served as the foundation for a lucrative international adoption industry that reached all around the world from China to India to Ethiopia to Uganda to Guatemala to Colombia and on and on.as an extension of White American imperialism and expansion via the separation of families. <br />
<br />
Furthermore, let us not forget how America separated families through anti-immigrant policies such as the Chinese Exclusion Act, Japanese internment camps, and Operation Wetback, to name just a few.<br />
<br />
When we remember history, we see without question that America has always used the tactic of separating families to its advantage, and in particular to assert and maintain its power, not only within the borders of this stolen land but around the globe.<br />
<br />
Don’t get me wrong--I am grateful for the outrage and compassion that many Americans are demonstrating and allowing to compel them to action during this most recent spree of family separations.<br />
<br />
But that so many seem to respond as though this is a newly terrible practice shows a gross ignorance of this nation’s brutal and violent history of separating families. <br />
<br />
With that said, I am one of those who was separated from my family as a result of America’s shameless imperialism and sense of entitlement spawned from White American Christian exceptionalism and privilege. I was separated from my Korean mother and sent to a land far away to grow up among foreign people who neither looked like me nor valued my origins.<br />
<br />
My American mom tells the story of how I wailed and cried incessantly for days. No amount of rocking, shushing, soothing, holding assuaged my distress. She even took me to the doctor, thinking that perhaps there was a physiological ill or pain causing my implacable terror. But still I wailed on. At one point, my mom started frantically flipping through television channels hoping to stumble upon something that might appease me. And to her surprise, she did. As she hurried through the different t.v. stations, she happened to come upon a voice that was speaking in the language of Korea. My mom says it was almost like a switch had flipped, and my crying stopped instantaneously. I was only 6 months old at the time. <br />
<br />
I share this to emphasize just how early on in our lives we are aware of who we are and from whom we come.<br />
<br />
As a 6-month old infant, I knew that my language was the language of Korea. The second I heard it, I knew it sounded like home. I knew it was the language of my mother, of my people that had been spoken to me, to soothe me, to comfort me. And I have never forgotten. And I never will.<br />
<br />
Decades later, I still long for what I lost. And decades later, watching this country choose to rip children away from their mothers and fathers is as though I am watching my early life unfold again and again before me. Reliving the excruciating trauma of losing my mother, my family, my origins again and again. I feel simultaneously paralyzed and compelled to action. I feel simultaneously devastated and full of rage. <br />
<br />
I don’t have to imagine what it must feel like for these children as they’re being ripped away from their mothers and families. I know what it feels like.<br />
<br />
To tear any child from her mother, from his father, from her family at any age is inherently traumatic and life-changing. Doctors, psychologists and social workers, the American Academy of Pediatrics--they all know this. And yet, this is not a truth that we need science or doctors to teach us. Deep down, we all know this to be true, especially those of us who are parents ourselves.<br />
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When I see, hear, read about the ICE agents voluntarily and willingly separating children from their mothers, I want to weep and scream all at once. I want to cuss. It assaults me in the deepest recesses of my being, as though every cell in my body remembers the utter terror and distress that my 6-month old self experienced after being taken from my Korean mother and placed into the arms of strangers.<br />
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The current images and sounds of children being torn away from their families stirs that primal wound I carry within and wrenches me to speak out, to stand up, to take action.<br />
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Please, I plead with you all, to take action. Call your senators and representatives. Join a local march, rally, or protest. Donate your time and money to organizations and groups fighting for immigrants’ rights (such as the <a href="https://www.aclu.org/" target="_blank">ACLU</a>, <a href="https://www.domesticworkers.org/" target="_blank">National Domestic Workers’ Alliance</a>, <a href="http://seirn.squarespace.com/" target="_blank">Southeast Immigrants Rights Network</a>, and <a href="https://www.advancingjustice-aajc.org/" target="_blank">Asian Americans Advancing Justice</a>). More specifically, you can donate to the <a href="https://advancingjustice-atlanta.org/tab/show/21" target="_blank">Deportation Defense Fund</a> or to help provide financial assistance for DACA renewal. Use your social media accounts to push back and speak up. These are just a few of the ways you can support and help those who are being impacted by the current regime’s anti-immigrant policies. <br />
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And understand that even when children are not being taken from their parents at the border, immigrant families are being separated in your towns and cities through the terror of ICE raids, check-ins, and local law enforcement. They’re detaining fathers, uncles, brothers, mothers, daughters, sisters indefinitely in far-off detention centers (i.e. prisons) that are often hours-long drives away from their families. <br />
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To address these types of family separations, which are just as traumatic and cruel, we need to support local campaigns working toward disrupting cooperation between local law enforcement and ICE. Volunteer at voter registration drives. Volunteer to be a poll monitor. Volunteer to work on local campaigns with clear pro-immigrant platforms. Connect with local groups that offer free Know Your Rights Clinics or Citizenship Clinics. To end family separation, we cannot simply demand an end to separation at the border, rather we must address the larger issue of anti-immigrant rhetoric and policy.<br />
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This issue of family separation is rooted in broader, deeper issues of power and oppression. And such injustices and terrors will continue to be inflicted upon marginalized individuals and populations, and will continue to be used as a tactic to assert and maintain power, if we do not extricate the roots feeding these cruel and inhumane policies and practices.<br />
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This issue is ultimately an issue of humanity. And one that is as primal and as universal to humanity as is the need for food and water--a child’s need and longing for our mothers, our fathers, our families from which our beings were born. Mothers and fathers are not disposable or interchangeable. And you certainly cannot tear a child from his mother or father without inflicting profound and lasting trauma.<br />
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We can do better. We must do better. <br />
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People continue to claim that this nation is a nation of laws. Then I appeal to you, that ultimately there is no law higher than the law of love. There is no law above the law of love. <br />
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So then, let us obey the law of love and strive to keep families together no matter from where they have journeyed and no matter from whom they have come.<br />
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Let us honor the humane and compassionate ideal that all humans have the unalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. And let us remember the words adorning the Statue of Liberty that call out, “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”<br />
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<i>Part two of this conversation will be published at www.thelostdaughters.com/ tomorrow.</i></div>
Rebecca Hawkeshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10736626549316682171noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-65418946397611387332018-06-21T16:15:00.000-04:002018-11-20T23:29:17.347-05:00Adoption and Child Separation at the Border<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTacGFGLBliQXJxgLYNrNnUMciIqXpfy4M4TkJpL651fq2EQA4pjOCO1FExra0GrVa0k2ruTfdW-tvGcKSK6PIJUVMRcYgS-gqws2LN-YPgCrSl7qL_7hkHplxkG0PBWCxTSrAAkVF/s1600/McKee+Graphic+01.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTacGFGLBliQXJxgLYNrNnUMciIqXpfy4M4TkJpL651fq2EQA4pjOCO1FExra0GrVa0k2ruTfdW-tvGcKSK6PIJUVMRcYgS-gqws2LN-YPgCrSl7qL_7hkHplxkG0PBWCxTSrAAkVF/s640/McKee+Graphic+01.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">On June 1, 2018 Rebekah Henson published </span><a href="https://twitter.com/bekhenson/status/1002694497841577984" style="font-size: 12pt;" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">an important thread on Twitter</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="color: blue;"> </span>critiquing the hashtags #FamiliesBelongTogether and #KeepFamiliesTogether. The frame with “Families Belong Together” on profile pictures is popping up on my Facebook news feed. I understand. It’s a compelling turn of phrase and gets at the heart of what needs to happen. Families </span><i style="font-size: 12pt;">should not</i><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> be separated upon entry to the United States. And yet, as Henson </span><a href="https://twitter.com/bekhenson/status/1002695870373072902" style="font-size: 12pt;" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">mentions</span></a><span style="font-size: 12pt;">, “But many of the voices rallying for these families have been completely silent in the face of other crimes committed against mothers and children throughout the history of child welfare in America.”</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Henson’s reactions are not isolated. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Native News Online</i> captures <span class="MsoHyperlink"><a href="https://nativenewsonline.net/currents/trump-administrations-policy-allowing-taking-children-from-parents-hits-nerve-in-indian-country/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">the voices of American Indian leaders speaking out about the practice</span></a> of incarcerating children</span> and notes the similarities to <a href="https://nativenewsonline.net/opinion/trump-administrations-policy-of-separating-children-is-reminiscent-of-indian-boarding-schools/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">the boarding school project</span></a>. The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Associated Press</i> compiled <a href="https://www.apnews.com/375da2b8b1554418a8edad1dd383d707" rel="nofollow"><span style="color: blue;">additional examples of separating families</span></a>, as did the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/retropolis/wp/2018/05/31/barbaric-americas-cruel-history-of-separating-children-from-their-parents/?utm_term=.4aad1944380c" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Washington Post</span></a></i>. <a href="https://medium.com/@loeywerkingwells/i-too-was-separated-from-my-parents-and-given-a-number-d1da108bddc4" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Loey Werking Wells shared her experiences</span></a> of separation via Korean international adoption. Historian Beth Lew-Williams <a href="https://www.pri.org/stories/2018-06-20/child-migrant-days-feel-lifetime-when-you-re-imprisoned-and-alone" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">recalled her grandfather’s separation from his family</span></a> as he was placed in immigration detention at age nine on Angel Island Immigration Station. A survivor of Japanese internment camps (which at the time were also known as concentration camps) <a href="http://sanfrancisco.cbslocal.com/2018/06/19/border-separations-japanese-internment-camp-survivor-warns-history-is-repeating-itself/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">believes we’re at risk for history repeating itself</span></a>. Making this comparison clear is George Takei, who <a href="https://foreignpolicy.com/2018/06/19/at-least-during-the-internment-are-words-i-thought-id-never-utter-family-separation-children-border/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">writes</span></a>:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Imagine this scene: Tens of thousands of people, mostly families with children, are labeled by the government as a threat to our nation, used as political tools by opportunistic politicians, and caught in a vast gray zone where their civil and human rights are erased by the presumption of universal guilt. Thousands are moved around to makeshift detention centers and sites, where camps are thrown together with more regard to the bottom line than the humanity of the new residents.</i> </span></blockquote>
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</span></i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That is America today, at our southern border, which asylum-seekers and undocumented migrants alike are seeking to cross. But it is also America in late 1941, in the aftermath of Pearl Harbor, when overnight my community, my family, and I became the enemy because we happened to look like those who had dropped the bombs. And yet, in one core, horrifying way this is worse. At least during the internment of Japanese-Americans, I and other children were not stripped from our parents. We were not pulled screaming from our mothers’ arms. We were not left to change the diapers of younger children by ourselves.</span></i></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/laura-bush-separating-children-from-their-parents-at-the-border-breaks-my-heart/2018/06/17/f2df517a-7287-11e8-9780-b1dd6a09b549_story.html?noredirect=on&utm_term=.b27775494f30" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Former first lady Laura Bush</span></a> also compared to what’s happening with Japanese internment and acknowledged how <a href="http://time.com/5314955/separation-families-japanese-internment-camps/" target="_blank">i<span style="color: blue;">t took decades for the United States government to recognize that internment was wrong</span></a>. She highlighted the cruelty of separating children from parents.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Individuals speaking out about the emotional, psychological, and physical harm of these separations were not only considering what has happened in the United States. Drawing upon her own experience as someone part of the Sixties Scoop of indigenous children in Canada, Raven Sinclair <a href="https://www.ctvnews.ca/video?clipId=1422081" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">noted</span></a> how reports of the separated children and families was a trigger for her. She also integrated her expertise as a professor of social work to discuss the turmoil and trauma of separation. A child survivor of the Holocaust <span style="color: blue;"><a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2018/jun/18/separation-children-parents-families-us-border-trump" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">recalled the trauma</span></a> </span>of being separated for her family. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When the news of these separations quickly made headlines, I thought to myself that we cannot make this normal. This is not normal. This is not okay. And then I thought about the historical traumas of separating children of color and indigenous children from their natal families. I see what’s happening as part of a broader need for reproductive justice to protect the rights of parents of color and indigenous parents <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">to parent</i>. Recently, I published an article that <a href="https://www-jstor-org.ezproxy.gvsu.edu/stable/10.26818/adoptionculture.6.1.0074" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">situates adoption within a reproductive justice framework</span></a>. That essay is in conversation with <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Shattered-Bonds-Color-Child-Welfare/dp/0465070590" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Dorothy Roberts</span></a>, <a href="https://www.dukeupress.edu/somebodys-children" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Laura Briggs</span></a>, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/default/e/B001IXU4DQ?redirectedFromKindleDbs=true" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Rickie Solinger</span></a>, and <a href="http://www.lorettaross.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Loretta Ross</span>,</a> among others, as I discuss the ways adoption privileges the rights of white adoptive parents at the expense of limiting the ability of non-white individuals who seek to parent.</span><br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Brief Overview of Family Separation in This Week’s Headlines</span></b></h3>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">What I will discuss below focuses on how these separations run the risk of transforming these children into adoptable objects—transformed into disciplined bodies acceptable to white America. I use the term object deliberately to reflect how adoptee subjecthood is erased when they are seen as interchangeable objects available for consumption. On Monday, ProPublica also <a href="https://www.propublica.org/article/children-separated-from-parents-border-patrol-cbp-trump-immigration-policy" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">published audio of children separated from their parents</span></a>. For more information concerning what happened and is happening at the border, please see:</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">ACLU, <span style="color: blue; text-indent: -0.25in;"><a href="https://www.aclu.org/blog/immigrants-rights/immigrants-rights-and-detention/fact-checking-family-separation" style="text-indent: -0.25in;">“Fact Checking Separation”</a></span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">ACLU, <a href="https://www.aclu.org/news/aclu-statement-proposed-trump-executive-order-family-separation" style="color: blue;" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">"Statement on Proposed Trump Executive Order on Family Separation"</span></a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">National Public Radio, </span><a href="https://www.npr.org/2018/06/19/621065383/what-we-know-family-separation-and-zero-tolerance-at-the-border" style="text-indent: -0.25in;" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">“What We Know: Family Separation and ‘Zero Tolerance’ at the Border”</span></a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">New York Times, </span><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2018/06/18/us/politics/immigration-children-sessions-miller.html" style="text-indent: -0.25in;" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">“How Anti-Immigration Passion was Inflamed from the Fringe”</span></a></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">The Atlantic,<span style="color: blue;"> </span></span><a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/family/archive/2018/06/family-separation-no-hugging-policy/563294/" style="text-indent: -0.25in;" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">“The Exceptional Cruelty of a No-Hugging Policy”</span></a></span></li>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And, bear in mind the ways <a href="http://www.newsweek.com/guantanamo-bay-donald-trump-japanese-internment-980049" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">the current administration is using Japanese internment to justify policies related to the War on Terror</span></a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Please note, what I provided above is not a comprehensive list, nor could it be given the news cycle and how what’s occurring continues to evolve in real time. Rather, these links are meant to be the start to your exploration of this issue (if you have not been reading or watching the news for the past week).</span><br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So where does adoption come in?</span></b></h3>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">On June 15, Attorney General Jeff Sessions <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/acts-of-faith/wp/2018/06/14/jeff-sessions-points-to-the-bible-in-defense-of-separating-immigrant-families/?utm_term=.b72e5f9c225b" style="color: blue;" target="_blank">invoked Romans 13</a> as he defended the administration’s policy towards undocumented immigration, including separating families. The use of this Biblical quote drew ire of Christians for a variety of reasons, including because Romans 13 was <a href="https://www.npr.org/2018/06/15/620471106/evangelicals-push-back-on-sessions-use-of-bible-passage-to-defend-immigration-po" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">used to justify slavery and the Fugitive Slave Act</span></a>. Other Christians also objected to the use of the verse in this way. Within my own networks, friends tweeted or posted Biblical scripture that reflected the ways the Bible embraces our neighbor. And I deeply appreciate <a href="https://www.cosmopolitan.com/politics/a21602198/jeff-sessions-bible-family-separation-policy/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">Brittney Cooper’s discussion of how Jeff Sessions’ Christianity does not speak for her</span></a>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As a friend posted Biblical quotes throughout the day on Facebook, I was reminded of how Evangelical Christian adoptive parents and prospective adoptive parents frequently invoke <a href="http://biblehub.com/james/1-27.htm" style="color: blue;" target="_blank">James 1:27</a> to<span style="color: blue;"> </span>discuss why they’re compelled to adopt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Yet, these individuals overlooked the second half of the Biblical verse—“to look after orphans <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and widows in their distress</i>” (emphasis mine). And we have seen throughout history what happens when religion is misused, misapplied, perverted to justify slavery and war, among other inhumane actions. But as this unfolded, I had a gut feeling that at some point we would see how these separated children would become linked to fostering and adoption. And unfortunately, I (and many others who work in adoption) were right.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Bethany Christian Services </span><a href="https://amp.freep.com/amp/714527002" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">reported</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: blue;"> </span>to the </span><a href="https://fox17online.com/2018/06/20/protests-as-children-separated-from-families-at-border-now-in-bethany-christian-services-foster-care/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">media</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> that they placed at least 81 children separated from their families at the southern U.S. border into foster care placements or group placements in West Michigan. And as Adoption Scholars including myself are discussing online, Bethany is laying the groundwork to turn these children into objects ready to be adopted. As I watched this </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/bethanyfans/videos/vb.46396911959/10155360430726960/?type=2&theater" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">video</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">, I could only think of how Bethany is situating themselves as a “benefactor” or “good” figure in this time in comparison to warehousing children. In turn, foster care becomes a better option, despite the fact that foster care produces trauma and violence in the lives of youth. The video also illustrates how religion becomes invoked to protect these children—and it reminds me of Bob Pierce of World Vision and Harry Holt in the immediate post-Korean War period or the <a href="http://www.nbcnews.com/id/35162046/ns/world_news-haiti/t/baptist-group-denies-trafficking-haitian-kids/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">desire by religious organizations to rescue Haitian children immediately after the2010 earthquake in Haiti</span></a>. Kathryn Joyce has also documented the trouble with the Christian adoption movement in <a href="https://newrepublic.com/article/127311/trouble-christian-adoption-movement" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">essays</span></a> and in her book, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Child-Catchers-Rescue-Trafficking-Adoption/dp/1586489429" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">The Child Catchers: Rescue, Trafficking, and the New Gospel of Adoption</span></a>. I urge folks to take a critical eye at how Bethany (and presumably other foster care and adoption agencies and Christian organizations) respond to this crisis. Adoptees and Adoption Studies scholars know what “saving” children <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really</i> means and it’s never about family reunification or family preservation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In their interview with Dona Abbott, the Director for Refugee and Foster Care Programs at Bethany, </span><a href="https://fox17online.com/2018/06/20/protests-as-children-separated-from-families-at-border-now-in-bethany-christian-services-foster-care/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Fox 17 West Michigan</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="color: blue;"> </span>asked about<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>whether the agency was profiting from these children. Abbott responded: "We’re not. Again it would be hard to say we’re profiting off of them for adoption when we’ve not placed any of these children for adoption. And it’s so early on to say whether these children will be available for adoption at all." That said, I remain skeptical. After all, who is the agency contracting with to even start placing these children? And, what happens if these children are not reunited with their parents?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Questions also need to be asked regarding what happens to these children if they fall through the cracks. How does this relate to those adoptees without citizenship? Or those orphans who entered on humanitarian parole? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">We are seeing the beginnings of how organizations transform black and brown children to desirable bodies for adoption. These are the same children Americans seek to adopt when they are considered “over there” or not linked to black and brown adults. </span><a href="http://findingfernanda.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Finding Fernanda</span></i><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by Erin Siegel</span></span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> demonstrates the experiences of adoptive parents as they sought to adopt children from Guatemala.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are seeing how children’s bodies are being disciplined to become acceptable bodies of children of color—potential adoptees, potential kin to white families. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://www.theroot.com/white-people-are-cowards-1826958780" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Silence is violence</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">, especially now. This is why I urge white adoptive parents of children of color in particular to use your voice and speak. Advocate for family preservation and reunification. See how your child’s immigrant story is aligned with the immigrant experiences of these other children. Adoptees should not be <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">exceptional</i> immigrants, but yet we are. We are heralded while people who could be our parents, siblings, or children are denigrated. And don’t be fooled—your children are not exceptions, not when we see </span><a href="https://www.newyorker.com/news/our-columnists/in-america-naturalized-citizens-no-longer-have-an-assumption-of-permanence" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">naturalized citizens not having the ability to think their citizenship is permanent</span></a><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">. To look away and think, “Well my child would not have this happen to them,” at some point we might be in a situation where they will come for us—adoptees. And then what? I’m reminded of the poem, <a href="https://www.ushmm.org/wlc/en/article.php?ModuleId=10007392" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue;">“First they came for the socialists,” by Martin Niemöller </span></a>given the ways in which American society is normalizing the behavior and dehumanization of some ethnic, racial, and religious groups over others. A quick Google search will reveal that I’m not alone in this concern. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The adoption community is already grappling with the deportation of internationally adopted persons whose parents or guardians failed to naturalize them as children who have been convicted of crimes. I argue in my monograph, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Disrupting Kinship: Transnational Politics of Korean Adoptees in the United States</i> (University of Illinois Press, forthcoming 2019), that we need to place these deportations and access to retroactive citizenship in conversation with what is occurring more broadly concerning contemporary immigration policy. To decouple adoption from immigration overlooks the ways in which adoption policy has been predicated upon the ways international adoptees are situated as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">exceptional</i> migrants. But my focus in this essay is not currently on this particular argument; rather, my interest in this lies in demonstrating how children of color and indigenous children are seen as mutable subjects—at first characterized negatively as unassimilable and alien and then remolded as acceptable after they enter foster care. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--EndFragment--><br />Kimberly McKeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11510714366611793769noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-8692613839500135362017-12-30T00:00:00.000-05:002017-12-30T00:00:00.338-05:00Forgiveness Heals All WoundsIt seems I've been living my life incorrect, I cling on to past events and fear that history will repeat itself. People have told me several times that I need to stop living in the past or else I'll always consider myself a victim. I know I cannot change what's already happened-it was beyond my control. Yet I still seem unable to simply move on, time doesn't heal all wounds. The trauma that was done to me came at such a crucial time in my life that it still affects me as an adult.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRiUYIDpTZiOIbxGnY0sq_GHwDgioPn7vpJoLhTKoN0rJmxvAczrb6ODGoqCNp7sNmHWhu2XxI4zce5_tUCZahtQwoihWIPUR8UKXdq2WXa8OhTnmLRTJBLKrQnWhjnhT50PAbPR3c4YtW/s1600/Survivors%252BGuilt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRiUYIDpTZiOIbxGnY0sq_GHwDgioPn7vpJoLhTKoN0rJmxvAczrb6ODGoqCNp7sNmHWhu2XxI4zce5_tUCZahtQwoihWIPUR8UKXdq2WXa8OhTnmLRTJBLKrQnWhjnhT50PAbPR3c4YtW/s320/Survivors%252BGuilt.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.psycharmor.org/">source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
A few years ago I went on a greif-counseling seminar and the person said we have to forgive ourself or ask for people to forgive us. Instead of seeing the events as independent or connected events focus on the relationships you have with other people even animals and inate objects.<br />
<br />
This would mean I am more or less forced to forgive my maternal relative for what they did to me. I wish it would be the other way around. A part of me doesn't want to forgive this relative, especially not since my birthparents chose to cut all ties with this person. Their betrayal was to great. Maybe I will be able to eventually forgive this person. Forgiveness is one thing but forgetting is another the trauma I still suffer from is the cause of all my problems. They are of such a nature that it simply is impossible for me to just forget them the damage was to great...<br />
<br />
Time does not heal all wounds and sometimes it's not possible to just forgive...<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Ld-9oxq2UAl7QwF9ZzXHvfrfPLkg4JW6jq6DwfVIpio-DPBQ6IRH5k8iaGX2jNAwjEpAVtYy5YnMHcPW3NAS_XXjyLOEIczbM55o1D2nKv90JbrwA_GwMG5HKSd2k8f296vxUmdqxOpm/s1600/images+%252827%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Ld-9oxq2UAl7QwF9ZzXHvfrfPLkg4JW6jq6DwfVIpio-DPBQ6IRH5k8iaGX2jNAwjEpAVtYy5YnMHcPW3NAS_XXjyLOEIczbM55o1D2nKv90JbrwA_GwMG5HKSd2k8f296vxUmdqxOpm/s320/images+%252827%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.survivor-story.com/">source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
Once I managed that I should probably try to forgive my birthfather-for years I held him responsible for separating me from the rest of my birthfamily. Now I know he is without guilt just as my birthmother is, my birthmother didn't even know if the child she just gave birth to was alive or not. I believe I also need to forgive her for thinking she agreed to being separated from the child she had protected for nine months.<br />
<br />
That only leaves my younger siblings, I used to blame my younger birth sibling for being born and in a way I held them responsible for separating me from the rest of my family. I am saddened that my separation meant I wouldn't get a chance to get to know them as their sister. I know I also should forgive the younger brother that my APs had- I used to somehow punish him for being the brother that I ultimately lost. I also used to compare myself to him which probably was unfare because we are total polar opposites he is social, funny and outgoing he excels in everything he does. He seems to have no difficulties to make friends or find a partner. He also makes good grades and was offered many different jobs. He is my succesful younger brother while I am everything he's not. Maybe I also think it is unfair that he has all the things he has while my younger birth sibling is forced to handle my birthparents expectations. I wish I just could be proud of him, of them both...<br />
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<br />Ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16742725859336063786noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-83478637715075016972017-11-16T00:00:00.000-05:002017-11-16T00:00:00.189-05:00A Woman's WorthIn Korea<br />
<div>
A woman's worth</div>
<div>
Is valued more</div>
<div>
Once she marries</div>
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It doesn't have to be for love</div>
<div>
After marriage </div>
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The importance of her voice</div>
<div>
Increases for every child she bares</div>
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It doesn't even have to be a son </div>
<div>
Yet she needs to have a son eventually</div>
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Or else she will be seen as a disgrace</div>
<div>
To her husband and his family</div>
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But also her own parents</div>
<div>
For unmarried women</div>
<div>
It is recommended that they</div>
<div>
That they don't have children</div>
<div>
Children that are born in wedlock</div>
<div>
While children is encouraged for a married woman</div>
<div>
Children for an unmarried woman</div>
<div>
Is still a major social stigma</div>
<div>
Such a woman risk becoming ostracized</div>
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Isn't it ironic</div>
Ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16742725859336063786noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-54447549175749342832017-11-01T00:30:00.000-04:002017-11-01T00:30:15.110-04:00#WeDieThis year has been marked by losses. As a community, we are reminded that we are fragile. In the month of May we lost <a href="http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/democratandchronicle/obituary.aspx?n=jane-trybulski&pid=185295501&" target="_blank">Jane</a>, <a href="https://www.runnersworld.com/elite-runners/the-life-of-gabe-proctor" target="_blank">Gabe</a> and <a href="http://www.koreatimes.co.kr/www/nation/2017/05/119_229975.html" target="_blank">Phillip</a>.<br />
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You see, adoptees die both figuratively and literally.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFISUEq_ojMGBfOaWkNE3fI5WfMLVL5ZyhyaK6pL6LnCsRO7gUwtC_nV_1O8PeAn56i030kMqrkg7RfKRzxH_OFTt_EXy4FNPLUhfvvcV8cTgGoVaCpxGhAeBalEIk8lvaz0SG8qGDBlM/s1600/%2523WeDie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1592" data-original-width="1364" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFISUEq_ojMGBfOaWkNE3fI5WfMLVL5ZyhyaK6pL6LnCsRO7gUwtC_nV_1O8PeAn56i030kMqrkg7RfKRzxH_OFTt_EXy4FNPLUhfvvcV8cTgGoVaCpxGhAeBalEIk8lvaz0SG8qGDBlM/s320/%2523WeDie.jpg" width="274" /></a></div>
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We die when we are separated from our original families. We die when we are taken from our home countries. We die when the smells of our cultures are snuffed out by hamburgers and fried potatoes.<br />
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We die when we realize that we are not truly a part of those we resemble. We are outliers. We never chose this for ourselves.<br />
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And yet, in the month of November, this institution that brought us to our new “homes” is celebrated and revered. In this celebration, our voices have died. In 2014, we tried to revive with the #FliptheScript on #NAM. We were successful to a certain degree.<br />
<br />
However, since that time, we still see our <a href="http://www.thelostdaughters.com/2015/09/gone-too-soon-heartbreak-of-adoptee.html" target="_blank">fellow adoptees take their lives</a>.<br />
<br />
What if, we took this month to honor those we have lost as well as the parts of ourselves that we miss.<br />
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If you feel the urge to share on social media, tag it with #WeDie to remind us of our community of adoptees.<br />
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<i style="font-family: times; font-size: 13px;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 13.199999809265137px;">Feminist columnist, Rosita González 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 birth family, but also because of the loss of her adoptive parents. After the death of her adoptive father, she discovered that he had fathered a Korean son two years before her birth; she is searching for him. Rosita recently returned from a five-month stint in Seoul, South Korea, with her family and their three cats. Follow her adventures as an adoptee on her blog, </span><a href="http://mothermade.blogspot.com/" style="color: #ff168a; font-family: arial, tahoma, helvetica, freesans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.199999809265137px; text-decoration: none;">mothermade</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "helvetica" , "freesans" , sans-serif; font-size: 13.199999809265137px;">.</span></i><br />
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mothermadehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15805762605100898914noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-56961123781870281982017-09-20T00:00:00.000-04:002017-09-28T00:42:17.498-04:00Filial Piety and Choices<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz33Nf-d1_CJUZOqQxyLrieX17Or5tCtDUUB0oJEDD2-Js7BbnEa72ZH7H7g3VYs2kI6r8oUQCh1CzAA0UKxrSUI4A-ZOS0Kc-W8HFKE7a77CPhxe5CkHWsY2RD6iOgfXD6ZBSR5KhGYr4/s1600/ladda+ned+%252827%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz33Nf-d1_CJUZOqQxyLrieX17Or5tCtDUUB0oJEDD2-Js7BbnEa72ZH7H7g3VYs2kI6r8oUQCh1CzAA0UKxrSUI4A-ZOS0Kc-W8HFKE7a77CPhxe5CkHWsY2RD6iOgfXD6ZBSR5KhGYr4/s1600/ladda+ned+%252827%2529.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.wisegeek.com/">source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Filial piety is still of significant importance in Asia but especially in Korea-at less I know. When I think of filial piety it's probobably no coincidence that my mind wonders to one of my older sisters', when my birthparents were busy with trying to provide for their groving family this sister took on the role of caring for the younger children. She would probably have taken care of me as well and helped to raise me-she seemed happy to look after them yet I think it had more to do with the fact that she had no choice. She was expected to that and as a filial daughter she agreed to it.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoZ2ZTgmw5fdfj0Kj3H50dsGW1Cn0DKg1hUZrW7iwlwxIZ8z1Ur8OOtDt4DM7q4hvETUCgM3hkjXppxIKdRyml2QEszDC9Dn3Me1DDfsI9ewJY5sEVze4nRsH_drP83jMsGZONvEDlSCAl/s1600/images+%252824%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoZ2ZTgmw5fdfj0Kj3H50dsGW1Cn0DKg1hUZrW7iwlwxIZ8z1Ur8OOtDt4DM7q4hvETUCgM3hkjXppxIKdRyml2QEszDC9Dn3Me1DDfsI9ewJY5sEVze4nRsH_drP83jMsGZONvEDlSCAl/s1600/images+%252824%2529.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.chengduliving.com/">source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Not until 15 years later did she consider dating in the hopes of being someone's wife and future mother. The reason for that is that by now the youngest sibling had gone of to College. My sister eventually begun dating a fairly successful athlete-evidently he was promised a successful career in his chosen field but instead of going overseas he chose my sister and a future in Korea. Eventually birth father begun to contemplate that the end of his life was approching and he expressed that he wished my sister would give him a grandchild.<br />
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<br />
<a name='more'></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
With my birth father's blessing my sister and the athlete eventually had an out of wedlock child but married before the child was born. They are still married to this day-but I personally don't think I would be willing to accept doing something out of filial piety because I was not raised in such a culture and those values are more or less foreign to me. Of course, that is a great sorrow for me that I know such cultural values speaks against everything I was raised to learn. It has to be considered an unfortunate consequence from my adoption. I was born into a high context culture where collectivism is more or less ingrained into the minds of people. While I ultimately was raised in a low context culture that focuses on individualism.<br />
<br />
Not that there wasn't a time where I tried to fulfill the same expections of filial piety that my birth parents evidently had for their remaining children. The children that they raised. I wish they could have expressed that same filial piety to me as well. It was a bit surprising - even shocking to learn that it seemed more important for my birth father to have a grandchild than for my sister to b married first and then consider children. I like to think of Abeoji as as quite a progressive and modern man becuause of that.<br />
<br />
I think its quite remarkable that my Korean family doesn't seem to think that its shameful to have an out-of-wedlock child in their family tree. It makes me proud, especially when single mothers as well as out-of-wedlock children are people who chooses to place their children for adoption. Then again, maybe its not as foreign as for them as I would like to think. Maybe its logical for a family to consider such values irrelevant if they once lived though that themeselves. What really should matter is love and kindness to one another, and to protect and care for younger generations regardless of who their parents are.</div>
Ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16742725859336063786noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-85553701239719845252017-09-17T10:30:00.000-04:002017-09-17T11:35:41.814-04:00The Perks of Being a [Haitian] Adoptee <div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEickXxsoe_p1pw3QJQdmvkJNE44hhU9tqbhxG4OXr84D6xtUSAbpbqINXCmQwOJzzDqiBpdVIBiUcfI4A5gUl649kKS4MEtRemsj7sZXWL8k6ZeHSCZynRsZBWdqrlDN5b8XunC7_IviDg/s1600/41prdLascXL._SY344_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEickXxsoe_p1pw3QJQdmvkJNE44hhU9tqbhxG4OXr84D6xtUSAbpbqINXCmQwOJzzDqiBpdVIBiUcfI4A5gUl649kKS4MEtRemsj7sZXWL8k6ZeHSCZynRsZBWdqrlDN5b8XunC7_IviDg/s400/41prdLascXL._SY344_BO1%252C204%252C203%252C200_.jpg" width="260" /></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Perks of Being an Adoptee</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> by Mae Claire is part memoir, part “how to" guide, and part humorous commentary on what it was like for the author growing up as a Haitian adoptee, adopted by missionaries living in the Dominican Republic. In each chapter Claire gives a “perk” of being an adoptee, often turning it around to explain the complexities of being adopted. The book doesn’t hold back and doesn’t try to make its reader comfortable with adoption, but through frank language and blunt descriptions, shows that adoptions is not always “unicorns and rainbows.” </span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-e3886384-9020-bd37-dded-8f651c6ecd64" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Read the interview with author Mae Claire below: </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Your book has a very "tongue in cheek" approach to adoption, and you often use sarcasm to make a point. For example, you wrote that one of the perks of being an adoptee is that you were handed a "white card" when you were adopted. For those who may not understand that term, can you describe what it means to get a "white card"? </b></span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Receiving a white card means there are certain things you are forgiven for because you are part of an elite club. Also, the reasons for which many transracially adopted kids get to do certain things is usually due to possessing this card. A situation in which having white parents made life easier for me really depends on the country you are being raised in. I was raised in the Dominican Republic, a country that carries a lot of history with Haiti. Having the white card allowed me to be somewhat secure from some of the discrimination.</span></div>
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<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Can you describe a situation in which having white parents made your life harder? </b></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In the DR, having white parents also made people assume I was rich so I would often get ripped off at the local stores. A white male parent with a black child usually didn't equal a "loving" relationship, and it was assumed that my adoptive father had paid for me for the night-as a sexual partner. </span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>The relationship between you and your parents (especially your adoptive mom) is the central theme to this book. You touched on the idea of adopted children showing gratitude towards their adoptive parents. You wrote, "I see thankfulness in so many ways. The way we raise our kids. The way we thrive after living with our adoptive families. The passion we have for others. The passion we have for our work." Now that you are a parent, do you see things differently?</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My perception of my adoptive parents has changed since raising children. I better understand why they did certain things. As for gratitude, they still demand, require, and pine for it. They don't understand that we are already grateful. They still want proof, and yet, there is so much of it. The definition of how one gathers proof is different. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>You also wrote that one of the perks of being an adoptee is the "wow factor" that we all have. We all carry these unique stories and identities with us. Something that you struggled with growing up was feeling black with a white mask. Did you have a moment when you embraced your "blackness" or felt more comfortable with your black woman identity?</b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Embracing my blackness was difficult when I felt like I was an object, a gift, a prize. My color was celebrated when it meant that I supposedly didn't need sunblock, or I could wear any outfit. But going home to maid servants reminded me that that was what I would be good for someday. I do not believe as a child I ever embraced my "blackness" or was comfortable with my black woman identity. I lived in a country that was run by men and men who were lighter than me. As an adult, after becoming a professional, I learned to love my hair and my skin even though very few people did. I had to educate myself on who I was in order to begin to appreciate who I am. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>Like you, many adoptees do not accept themselves until well into adulthood. What is one thing you want adoptees to know? </b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I want adoptees to know that there is a community of adoptees who get it. The chapter on empathy explains how much we get each other and how easy it is for us to reach out and be there for someone else. I want adoptees to know that they are really not alone in this adoption world. That there are so many of us just trying to figure it out and </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">that we don't have to figure it out alone. I also want adoptees to know that it is ok to go through every phase of adoption. Currently I'm at the tongue and cheek phase, and it gives me joy to know that even the worst situations have a bit of light in them. </span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Besides writing, you also work in adoption consulting. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Can you describe the kind of work that you do with your consulting?</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I am a post adoption consultant and I work with adoptive parents who have questions or are struggling with their adopted children, young adults, and adults. I also speak with adult adoptees all around the world and help them access the proper resources as they are going through their adoption journey. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-size: 9.5pt; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Besides <i>The Perks of Being an Adoptee</i>, what other books do you have available or in the works? </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have written 8 books and about 7 of them are adoption related. The newest book I wrote is a kids book in hardcover. It is called </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Dear____I'm Adopted. Dear_____I Know</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. This book was created to help young adoptees put words to their feelings. It is written in letter format and each letter targets a different audience. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Besides </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>The Perks of Being an Adoptee</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, I have a few adoption resources for parents: </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Rainbows But Not Unicorns,</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Rainbows But Not Unicorns</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Workbook, and </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Multiple Intelligence Meets Adoption Healing. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I also have a teen book: </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>P.S. I’m Eleven: Surviving Haiti’s Quake</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. The Spanish version is </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>P.D. Tengo Once: Sobreviviendo el Terremoto en Haití. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I am currently working on a resource to be used in a classroom setting. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 9.5pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">***</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">To find out more about Mae Claire, visit her blog </span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=https://solifegoeson.com&source=gmail&ust=1505744395658000&usg=AFQjCNHyi52WfRIIr8Anp_j_Cuw_l-XAqQ" href="https://solifegoeson.com/" style="background-color: white; color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">https://solifegoeson.com</a>, her consulting website <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"> </span><a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?hl=en&q=http://noomaconsult.weebly.com/&source=gmail&ust=1505744395658000&usg=AFQjCNG1GhT7YvXvaf9lHYT0A56pc9mmDg" href="http://noomaconsult.weebly.com/" style="background-color: white; color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">http://noomaconsult.<wbr></wbr>weebly.com</a>,<span style="line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"> or follow her on twitter at @noomaconsulting. </span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 17.94px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All of Mae Claire’s books can be found on Amazon, and the </span><span style="color: black; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 17.94px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Dear ________ I’m Adopted </i></span><span style="color: black; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: 17.94px; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">book can be found on Lulu.com.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7O-w6uVn4USPYfhKoDgo74aViJc3yUXLIEWNGC6VcfLG120OccbZYInONyEuBRtjd5NA_OUe_2a1RJ7Lj2pE6RyKu0E_IBawqKg9_L6d1IyWw9OqkJGUtvVdZrzknsyXlD56TCy-nwQo/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-02+at+12.44.43+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7O-w6uVn4USPYfhKoDgo74aViJc3yUXLIEWNGC6VcfLG120OccbZYInONyEuBRtjd5NA_OUe_2a1RJ7Lj2pE6RyKu0E_IBawqKg9_L6d1IyWw9OqkJGUtvVdZrzknsyXlD56TCy-nwQo/s200/Screen+Shot+2015-01-02+at+12.44.43+PM.png" width="200" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mariette Williams (@mariettewrites) is a transracial adoptee born in Jeremie, Haiti. She was adopted at the age of three and grew up near Vancouver, B.C., Canada. She founded</span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/haitianadoptees/" style="background-color: white; color: #51114f; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 15.4px; line-height: 1.38; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Haitian Adoptees</span></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, a Facebook group that serves to connect and offer support to other Haitian adoptees. In July of 2015, she reunited with her birth mother and several members of her birth family. She lives in South Florida with her husband and two children. In addition to being a Journalism and literature teacher, she is a published author and supporter of international adoption reform. </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02579915307676593776noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-36428285864820900282017-09-15T00:00:00.000-04:002017-09-15T00:00:00.178-04:00My Secret<br />
I am what I am<br />
Can't change what already happened<br />
Refuse to accept what I've been through<br />
All I can do<br />
Is to learn to live with it<br />
It's far from easy though<br />
The truth is that I suffer from survivor's guilt<br />
But also the constant inferiority complex<br />
Never being good enough<br />
For either of my parents<br />
Considered a second best and last resort<br />
My birth family wants me to be grateful<br />
But they don't understand<br />
What's it like<br />
To be the only one<br />
Relinquished for adoption<br />
Never able to get to know<br />
Your birth parents<br />
Share a memory with birth sisters<br />
Or create a new one with your younger birth sibling<br />
Not even able to call them on the phone<br />
Or write a simple short letter<br />
I am the reject<br />
The black sheep<br />
No matter where I am<br />
Part of me does not want to be alive<br />
I have survived<br />
But I don't know how to fully live my life<br />
<br />
<br />Ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16742725859336063786noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2732269166989179706.post-5521617717529271532017-08-15T00:00:00.000-04:002017-08-20T21:44:35.941-04:00In Whose Best Interest?<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOCDpACV9zmWmO8DbC6LSStQsFS0GB9lysRjuvgpC3lkEwZDGglA5xt7H-WrmAnR0D9c_tMTFdrddBKhH9nyADMGEcSKHY1Awr9_rX1wIHWAqQuW0amSfAGDj542ukpD_no5s53rR2O2O/s1600/ladda+ned+%252828%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOCDpACV9zmWmO8DbC6LSStQsFS0GB9lysRjuvgpC3lkEwZDGglA5xt7H-WrmAnR0D9c_tMTFdrddBKhH9nyADMGEcSKHY1Awr9_rX1wIHWAqQuW0amSfAGDj542ukpD_no5s53rR2O2O/s400/ladda+ned+%252828%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://lawskills.co.uk/">source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Is it really true that interracial adoption always, always acts in the best interest of a child? I beg to differ. If that would be true I would like to believe that I wouldn't have been relinquished for adoption in the first place.<br /><br />Pregnancy, childbearing and childbirth is not a basic human right and shouldn't be seen as one.<br /><br />Recently, my friend was told that she probably would end up in constant problems with the authorities and social services if she decided to one day have a child.<br /><a name='more'></a><br />I find that statement really condescending, since it's based on nothing but pure speculation. Furthermore I think that's also quite the hypocrisy since since my friend never would have been adopted if that statement really was true.<br /><br />As a fellow interracial adult adoptee, I find that many times adult adoptees are considered an exception. It's not only supported and encouraged for privileged prospective APs to actively seek adoption "just to get a child" to raise supposedly as their very own while it seems adoptees' rights are denied. Why does society believe that an adult adoptee can't offer their own biological child the very same thing that APs are supposed to offer?<br /><br />In interracial adoption, or more so in any cases that involves adoption the importance is placed on the child's social heritage while a child's ethnic heritage is overlooked. Why is that?<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq2whLLM2wcotmXUPrCeOwJP3jpGSMAyCWvCC-RFNL-SSYDaBeWJCD8a4GcBP9GHMMjKJV1bVOxvJDZrNgAaNu8HdmfLNCLnFtDNzEIWz22YBMpt7e-wD7nwPK5UzLRSu_pJJ1IP7QjyyP/s1600/ladda+ned+%252829%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq2whLLM2wcotmXUPrCeOwJP3jpGSMAyCWvCC-RFNL-SSYDaBeWJCD8a4GcBP9GHMMjKJV1bVOxvJDZrNgAaNu8HdmfLNCLnFtDNzEIWz22YBMpt7e-wD7nwPK5UzLRSu_pJJ1IP7QjyyP/s1600/ladda+ned+%252829%2529.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.stopmesh.com/">source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Ellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16742725859336063786noreply@blogger.com