1 comments Saturday, December 19, 2009

I made a stray comment on FirstMotherForum which I think deserves expansion. It's something I've been thinking about for a while now:
Regardless of whether "natural" is the right term, non-adopted people are encouraged and even praised for exploring their heredity while adoptees are discouraged or condemned. I also think there is a difference between exploring heredity and making contact. For example, my birth mother has denied contact with me. But, if I had access to my origins, I could still explore my roots, find out where "my people" came from, etc. -- all without contacting her or her immediate family. I don't see why I should be denied that oppportunity just because I happen to be adopted.
When I originally started searching over a decade ago, it wasn't with starry-eyed ideals of meeting my birth mother. In fact the concept scared the wits out of me. (Still does.) I did, however, want to find out who "my people" are. I wanted to know where I fit into a long chain of ancestors stretching back through time. I also wanted to feel, for the first time, like a "real" person--someone with a past, a background, a history I could point to and say, "This is where I come from." None of which has anything to do with my birth mother in particular, but everything to do with access to that all-important document: my original birth certificate. Yet, as it stands in closed-records states, adoptees like me are forced to contact our birth mothers to gain that information.

If I had the information on my original birth certificate, I could do a genealogy search. Some people would call that stalking, but if it is, then every single person who has ever made a genealogical inquiry is guilty. I simply want to know if my vague and misleading non-identifying information is accurate. I want to know if I really am part Irish, part German, and part Polish. I want to know if I come from a family of farmers or brickmakers or blacksmiths. I want to take my children to Ireland and walk with them across the hills where my ancestors once walked. How does this, in any way, interfere with my birth mother's request not to contact her?

Most people don't understand how debilitating it is sometimes, being adopted. We have no anchor, no roots, no way to ground ourselves to the world around us. We struggle with that even when our adoptions are open and our information freely available, but much more so when our origins are treated like shameful secrets. What a blessing and relief it would be if we could trace our distant ancestry!

Just as I am not the first twig on my family tree, neither are my birth parents. My children and I should not be denied the right to take our places in the lineage of our ancestors. If it gives me closure to stand in a hundred-year-old cemetery and look down upon the graves of my great-great-grandparents, why not? Why should being adopted preclude me from that right?

3 comments Wednesday, December 9, 2009

I mentioned this previously in my blog post on "Adoption BEWareness Month Part II" as well as on OSoloMama's blog, and I think it warrants a post of its own. What I said was:
[I]f women don't want the offspring they gave up for adoption to contact them, then they ought to support open adoption records. Because as it stands in closed records states, the only way for adoptees to obtain info is to contact their birth mothers.
The biggest argument against restoring original birth certificate access to adoptees is that we are all potential stalkers out to harass our birth mothers. Putting aside how ridiculous that is, in reality, most birth mothers desire contact, and most adoptees just want some information. The way sealed records operate, our only choice is to contact our mothers for that information.

I posit that original birth certificate access actually HELPS that small percentage of mothers who desire privacy.

My own is a case in point. When I began searching, it wasn't with a mind to find my mother. Granted, I had a few hazy daydreams of meeting her over coffee, but my real goal was finding out about myself: how my adoption was arranged, what my birth name is, what my ethnic heritage is, where I fit in a long line of ancestors. And I spent a decade doing everything I possibly could to find out without contacting my birth mother. I did my own research. I asked search angels for help. I hired a private investigator. I tried both the state in which I was born and the state in which I was adopted, and as you all know got shuttled between them like the unwanted ball in a game of hot potato. Tried to use the Illinois Confidential Intermediary system, failed, hired a lawyer, tried again, succeeded for certain definitions of "succeed", made brief contact with my birth mother, was denied further contact, and wound up exactly where I started... except for a few extra tidbits of vague information, some hefty bills to be paid, and a signed denial of contact form from my birth mother which denies me access to the very records I originally sought.

Score: adoption industry, several kazillion; Triona and her family, zero.

Now, if I had access to my original birth certificate, in the same manner as the non-adopted, I could have spent half an hour and $15 at the courthouse to obtain what took me thousands of dollars, thousands of hours, and a lifetime of pain to attempt to obtain. And I wouldn't have had to contact my birth mother at all.

Compromise legislation and post-adoption "services", however kindly (or unkindly) meant, merely pays lip service to records access. They have nothing to do with the privacy of anyone except the adoptive parents, and those agencies and individuals who are attempting to hide the misdeeds of adoptions past. Why else are the Illinois intermediary program's procedures more confidential than my own private data? Why else are the original birth certificates of adoptees impounded, not upon relinquishment, but upon finalization of the adoption? Why else are adoptive parents often given paperwork that names the birth mother?

Those scant few birth mothers who want privacy should support original birth certificate access. Because the way the system is rigged in closed-records states, the ONLY state-sanctioned way for an adoptee to obtain information is to contact our birth mothers, whether we want to or not.

0 comments Tuesday, December 1, 2009

There is plenty of discussion going on in various media circles about adoptee rights, so be sure to add your two cents.

Also some good discussion going on out there about ABC's new Find My Family show, which I mentioned in my previous entry. I still haven't decided if it's good PR or exploitation, but it really feels like the latter. (No, I haven't seen it yet, not sure I want to. I like BB Church's analogy: "reunion porn.")

Gee, with all this media coverage you'd think it was still National Adoption Awareness Month.

25 comments Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Everyone in the adoption community is talking about ABC's new show Find My Family. My question to you: Is reality TV good for adoptee and birth parent rights, or is it exploitation?

Many are wondering who is actually doing the searching for Find My Family. I may be stirring up a hornet's nest, but here's what little I know about it. ABC approached the moderator of a forum (of which I happen to be a member) and asked if the staff of what later became Find My Family could solicit on the forum. (Disclaimer: I am not speaking for ABC or for the forum itself. I'm simply sharing my observations.) I don't know if any monetary compensation was offered for this, but I don't believe so. This particular forum links volunteer (e.g. not paid) search angels with searchers. It's a compassionate community of people who all found themselves flung into the deep end of adoption without a paddle. I expressed in private email to the moderators my reservations about this arrangement with ABC, because it seemed to me inappropriate for a reality TV show to be trolling a search-and-support forum for adoptees and birth relatives. However, the moderators and most of the other members were delighted, and they also appear to be generally pleased with the first episode of Find My Family.

My reservations remain. In my blog post "Adoption Exploitation And The Observer Effect", I quoted my response to ABC, when they approached me directly and asked me to post an announcement on my blog soliciting adoptees and birth families for the network's upcoming show. This was prior to their arrangement with the forum I mentioned.
Adoption is not a reality TV show. It is painfully real for those of us who experience it. I suggest you revise the show to highlight the denial of adult adoptees' civil rights. This is a different matter than search and reunion, although the two are often conflated by the adoption industry and, in turn, the media and the public. Every day adult adoptees are denied driver's licenses, passports, and other basics of citizenship because our original birth certificates are sealed in most states. We are forced to pay excessive fees only to find information is missing or mysteriously unavailable. Post-adoption "services" like registries and intermediaries have become yet another way for agencies and individuals to profit from adoption. That would be a far better topic upon which to shine your cameras than someone's private reunion.
Admittedly, I haven't watched Find My Family, so perhaps I shouldn't remark upon it unless I do. But I didn't like the way they came trolling a private forum looking for participants. Maybe I'm wrong, but it felt like they were letting the search angels do all the work while they make money filming the results. And believe me, these search angels work hard and don't get paid a thin dime except maybe expenses. They're doing it out of the goodness of their hearts. I don't think reality TV, however well-meaning, can be doing anything out of sheer goodness because, at the end of the day, it's about the advertising dollars they make. Also, it made me feel on display, a zoo animal in a cage, like I was being studied for some kind of reality-TV experiment. I've been exploited enough by adoption that this did not sit comfortably with me.

I also think we can draw some overall conclusions, not about this show in particular, but about reality-based adoption fodder in general. Most shows gloss over the difficulties in accessing records and focus instead on the happy-happy reunion stuff. There are those who say the happy-happy reunion stuff will help others understand our plight. I'd like to believe that, but then again I believed that a state-based confidential intermedary was in my best interests when they turned out to be incompetent money-grubbers.

From what I understand, Find My Family only accepted searches they thought would succeed. That's similar to state-based intermediaries who only take on searches they think they can solve, because it skews their statistics to show more successful matches. In the case of a reality TV show, obviously there's no show if the search doesn't succeed. But what about those who don't luck out with getting their search done by a reality TV show? How many searches don't succeed? How many people become stuck for years if not decades? How many can't afford the fees for state-based services, or attorneys to assert their rights, or private investigators when the state services fail? What about reunions that don't turn out happy-happy?

More importantly, what about the civil rights of adoptees and birth mothers to access the records that pertain to them? What about the discrimination faced by adoptees and birth mothers? What about the empty promises of open adoption, disclosure vetoes and compromise legislation? What about those left behind?

Search and reunion is already far too conflated with the civil rights of records access, and I don't think reality TV helps that. What we need are some shows that follow the demonstrations for our rights, the late nights writing letters to legislators and the media, the indignity of trying to say your piece while those same legislators are walking out on your testimony. Why weren't the cameras on my friend Chynna when she was goose-stepped out the door by a Florida cop in attempting to obtain her driver's license, because all she had was her amended (falsified) birth certificate? Where were the cameras when "Donna" was threatened with legal action for contacting a birth relative who wanted that contact? There's a lot more going on in adoptionland besides happy-happy reunions. Maybe ABC's Find My Family is going to address that. I hope somebody does.

Back to my original question: Is this good for our civil rights, or is it exploitation? I can't decide. What do you think?

6 comments Monday, November 23, 2009

On the heels of the recent Evan B. Donaldson study, ABC has posted an article concerning discrimination against adoptees. None of the information in the article will be news to us adoptees, who have been familiar with this for decades.

For me it started within my adoptive family. I was always the "adopted" daughter, emphasis on the adjective. In school I was mocked by classmates. On medical forms I have to write "unknown-adopted". I have learned not to mention my adopted status, unless I want to be subjected to knowing looks or annoying personal remarks. "Didn't your mother want you? Have you looked for your birth family? Aren't you glad you were adopted?" There are adoptees who have been denied driver's licenses and passports, and otherwise made to suffer indignities that no one else must endure. It's about time somebody started taking a closer look at this.

In general I think it's great that the EBDAI did a study of adult adoptees. However, one thing that annoyed me was that on the surface it seemed to apply only to international adoption. Domestic adoption was indeed part of the study, but the title "Beyond Culture Camp" implies otherwise. That's not to dismiss the important conclusions reached concerning transracial adoptees, but I would have liked to have seen a more all-encompassing summary. I also agree with what others have said, that putting children on the cover of a study about ADULT adoptees perpetuates the notion that, like Peter Pan, we never grow up. That defeats the whole purpose of a study about adult adoptees. I would have preferred to see a picture of, say, adult adoptees mentoring their younger counterparts. Or heck, just adult adoptees (including some domestic ones). Otherwise, though, the conclusions were spot-on.
Promote laws, policies and practices that facilitate access to information for adopted individuals. For adopted individuals, gaining information about their origins is not just a matter of curiosity, but a matter of gaining the raw materials needed to fill in the missing pieces in their lives and derive an integrated sense of self. Both adoption professionals and the larger society need to recognize this basic human need and right, and to facilitate access to needed information for adopted individuals.
I've said it before in various places: When non-adopted people ask about their origins, it's called genealogy. When adoptees ask, we are admonished. Most people don't realize how our birth certificates are altered, nor that we must jump through expensive and unnecessary hoops and be subjected to intensely personal interrogations, just for the mere CHANCE at records access. No other segment of our society is treated in this manner. Adoptees are second-class citizens whose civil rights have long been ignored and denied. People think that if we, as adults, continue to "harp upon" our origins, there is something wrong with us. But this study clearly shows that
Adoption is an increasingly significant aspect of identity for adopted people as they age, and remains so even when they are adults.
I am pleased that discrimination against adoptees is finally being acknowledged, but I think it needs to go further. Every single closed-records state needs to follow the example of Maine and restore unconditional original birth certificate access to domestic adoptees. Those adopted internationally deserve to have their citizenship in their countries of origin maintained, and all documents of their origins made conveniently and inexpensively available.

Until adoptees are treated in the exact same manner as the non-adopted, we will continue to be discriminated against. Compromise legislation doesn't cut it. Pithy promises don't cut it. It's not about search and reunion, it's about civil rights. We want EQUALITY and an end to discriminatory practices and laws.

9 comments Saturday, November 7, 2009

It's that time of year again, when I can't open a paper or glance at a web site without being innundated by how WONDERFUL adoption is and isn't it too bad we don't have more of it.

Sigh.

Forget the rainbows and fluffy animals. Others have mentioned this, and I believe also, that it would be far more effective to spend November analyzing the less savory sides of adoption.

Such as honoring Strange And Mournful Day, when mothers take time to contemplate how the adoption industry robbed them of their children, their dignity, and their self-respect.

Or reviewing how supposedly respected organizations like Catholic Charities can so royally screw up their (expensive) intermediary services that purportedly "help" adoptees and birth relatives reconnect. (90% success rate?! I want to hear how many applications got dropped on the floor a la the Illinois Confidential Intermediary Service. Likewise, I bet CC is also pre screening to insure success before accepting participants--skews the figures nicely.) You've got to wonder what CC is trying to conceal, that they're refusing to help straighten out this appalling situation. Don't tell me the law doesn't allow it, that's a cop-out similar to "I was just following orders".

What about donor-conceived people who have no access to their medical records? What about cases like the sperm donor who passed on a life-threatening genetic condition? Doesn't anybody give a damn that we are creating human beings willy-nilly with no regard for their rights as human beings? I don't mean embryos, I mean the rights of real-live people who are suffering because others want to conceal errors and misdeeds.

How about discussing the strange case of the birth mother so upset at being contacted by the child-now-adult she gave up for adoption that she feels the need to plaster her story all over the place, in some kind of insane attempt to... do what? Garner sympathy? Destroy any hope of open records? Demonstrate how ungrateful we adoptees are, especially those of us who *gasp* search? Because being adopted automatically turns us into crazy stalkers, it's right there in the Player's Handbook. Oh, and our heads spin 360 while we projectile vomit, too. But genealogy is A-OK if you're, say, the First Lady, or anybody else for that matter. Now, gimme back my dice so I can keep playing the D&D version of Adoption Stereotypes. I've got a new character to roll:
THE PSYCHO BIRTH MOTHER

Strength: Limitless
Intelligence: Questionable
Charisma: 18 (+30 to News Media)
Weapon: +10 Glaive Of Victimization
Armor: Shield Of Anti-Reflection

When confronted with the Stalker Adoptee, the Birth Mother Promised Confidentiality morphs into the Psycho Birth Mother. Not only has she never regretted her decision, she's the one being victimized and wants only to maintain her privacy, which is why she touts her story to any News Media she can find. Her siren call is: "Don't open the records! It'll destroy women like me!" Ignoring her sister birth mothers, who may actually (horrors!) desire and seek contact with their offspring, she hides in plain sight, turning any adoptees who cross her path back into Perpetual Children. The Psycho Birth Mother refuses to look at herself in a mirror, because deep down she knows what she's doing is wrong.
As I said on Osolomama's blog, if women don't want the offspring they gave up for adoption to contact them, then they ought to support open adoption records. Because as it stands in closed records states, the only way for adoptees to obtain info is to contact their birth mothers. (And no offense intended by my use of that term; I'm using it strictly for search engine purposes. As far as I'm concerned these women are mothers, no adjective.)

Personally, November is very hard for me. For one thing, it's my daughter's birthday. She is my eldest and the very first biological relative I ever saw in the flesh. That is so messed up I cannot even begin to tell you. So to have Adoption Awareness Month be the same as the anniversary of her arrival is really difficult. The last thing I need are painful reminders that she and my son are the only biological relatives I may ever know. I am also irate that the whole adoption thing spoils my ability to be able to enjoy her birthday. This month should be all about HER, turning six and getting pink princess presents. She shouldn't have to have a mother who's distracted by fighting the ghosts of adoption past, present and future. Adoption affects my kids, too, and they had nothing to do with it!

It's also that time of thanksgiving, of being grateful... and I am damn sick of being told, as an adoptee, to be grateful. It's a time of family and since I've been disowned from my adoptive family and denied existence by my birth family, that only makes it worse. I could tell you the reason I haven't blogged much lately is because I'm busy with work and other things. It's even true. But the other reason is that I am so effing sick of adoption at this time of year that I can't think straight.

Thank goodness for Doctor Who or I might not make it through this year. I'm planning to enjoy the last episodes of the Tenth Doctor to the fullest, and I don't need adoption casting a pall over my escapism, thank you very much. In fact, adoption is the reason for it.

Adoption might as well be a rusty knife in my stomach. It's hard to tell what hurts worse, going in or coming out, but either way it'll poison you for life.

Yeah, I need a whole month to be reminded of that.

16 comments Thursday, October 22, 2009

Osolomama's recent post, Adoption: When Satan Doesn't Want You To, brings up the disturbingly increasing trend of fundamentalist Christians who are adopting so as to indoctrinate children into their particular flavor of Christianity. Before I get into this, let me point out that I don't have a problem with Christianity per se. I do, however, have a problem with ANY religion that attempts to impose itself upon others, especially children who have no ability to stand up for themselves.

Witness (heh) some of these quotes from evangelicals attempting to justify their actions:
  • The Lord is calling them to that ministry.
  • [God] predestined the path of the child by adoption.
  • Adoption is war because Satan and unseen beings contest it. They oppose adoption . . .
(Shouldn't that be a corellary to Godwin's Law: that if you bring up Satan in an argument it's automatically over?)

But what is most horrifying is the quote in the comments, from an adoptive parent's blog:
“we also have the advantage of understanding our host culture’s worldview and their very deep superstitious beliefs. thus, we were not surprised that sterling was given to us with a jade luck charm – a buddhist charm meant to bring good luck, fortune and protection. we, however, know that this charm is associated with spiritual forces meant to keep people in bondage. thus, we smiled and accepted it as we should, and then later went to the park, broke it, and threw it into the pond, and prayed for our sterling that all spiritual bondage over him would be broken. these spiritual forces are alive and real, and manifest themselves in more obvious ways (but with the same degree of power) than in the west, but we know that the power and grace of the God who created the heavens and the earth is infinitely greater than the forces of evil.”
On behalf of the adoptee in question, I am F---ING PISSED. These adopters had absolutely no business breaking that charm, which the adoptee might very well have cherished throughout his life as a tangible link to his past. This isn't about "breaking the spiritual bondage over him", it's about imposing their own flavor of spiritual bondage, not to mention their claim on him to the utter exclusion of his birth parents. And since when is Buddhism evil? Do they even know the first thing about Buddhism? To make the child witness this... what a horrific thing to do, telling the kid his culture and heritage is evil, which by extension means his birth family and he, himself, are also. How the hell do people like this pass home studies? (Never mind. We all know home studies aren't worth crap.)

People like this scare the, ahem, bejesus out of me. If you don't believe exactly what they believe, you are E-VIL. Is that really what a Christian savior and a loving God would want? Don't you think there's room in God's creation for a little Buddhist peace, or Jewish prayer, or Wiccan love? I pray that any adoptee who has the misfortune to be adopted by such perverse indoctrinators finds it within themselves to seek out their own spirituality, whatever that may be. As long as we all try our best to be good, kind, compassionate people, it doesn't matter if we pray to God or Goddess or the Spaghetti Monster. Geez, didn't you people read The Chronicles Of Narnia (written by a Christian, no less):
For I [Aslan] and he [Tash] are of such different kinds that no service which is vile can be done to me, and none which is not vile can be done to him. Therefore, if any man swear by Tash and keep his oath for the oath's sake, it is by me he has truly sworn, though he know it not, and it is I who reward him. And if any man do a cruelty in my name, then, though he says the name Aslan, it is Tash whom he serves and by Tash his deed is accepted.
If you can't be open-minded about the culture and religion from which the child comes, you have no goddamn business adopting!

11 comments Tuesday, October 13, 2009

I doubt few people in the adoption reform community are surprised to hear that Catholic Charities, that bastion of super-secrecy, made a mistake in connecting an adoptee with his biological family.
More than three decades after Ryba and Butler gave up their baby son to Catholic Charities of Trenton, N.J., for adoption, and four years after the agency facilitated their "reunion" with Bloete, genetic testing revealed last year that none of them are related.

Lisa Thibault, a spokeswoman for Catholic Charities of Trenton, acknowledged that the situation is "tragic," and that a "mistake" was made somewhere. But she said the agency has done all it is legally able to do for them.
I'm sure CC charged a hefty fee for this botched "reunion". That's how confidential intermediaries work: You pay, they supposedly search and find. But the problem is, there are no checks and balances to ensure that you get what you paid for.

I've written extensively about my own experience with Illinois' confidential intermediary program (here and here), which remains the only state-sanctioned method by which adult Illinois adoptees may attempt to gain access to their records. The word "confidential" is a euphemism for "hiding in the shadows". Their policies and procedures are secret; even participants are not allowed to know what is done on their behalf. Which means if mistakes are made, you might never find out about them. In my case, my identifying information was given to my birth mother without my consent... meaning their policies are more confidential than the privacy of participants. What does that tell you about the priorities of such programs? It's a back-door method of making more money off adoptions. Seal the records, then charge later for access to those very same records. It's not commonly known by the general public but everybody in the adoption reform community knows how the game is played.

Cases like these are exactly why entire concept of confidential intermediaries needs to be chucked. Why should we trust third parties to act on our behalf when we have no way to verify their actions? Sealing adoption records and falsifying birth certificates only breeds these kinds of mistakes, and provides fertile ground for profiteering. Instead, all birth certificates should bear the truthful information of one's origins, with adoption certificates verifying the facts of the adoption, and every single adult in this country, adopted or not, should be able to obtain their original, unaltered birth certificate for the same minimal fee. I spent thousands of dollars trying to get my records, just as these people have spent thousands trying to accomplish what Catholic Charities should have done in the first place.

We need to abolish confidential intermediaries in favor of open adoption records.

See also:
And let's note that reformers in New Jersey have been fighting to open adoption records. There's a petition here if you want to sign it to help the cause.

13 comments Thursday, October 8, 2009

This month's Grown In My Heart blog carnival is about names. I've blogged about names before. It's said that to know someone's true name is to have power over them. That is never more true when an adoptee's birth name is hidden from them.

Growing up, I hated the name my adoptive parents chose for me. It wasn't ME. It was the person they wanted me to be, the child they never had. When I got married I changed it to one I preferred. I might have changed it to my birth name, had I known it at the time. Apparently I don't have an official name on my original birth certificate, not even "Baby Girl", but in our brief anonymous correspondence my birth mother told me what she called me in her mind. But that name, also, is not mine. It's the person I might have been if I had been raised in my original family. So I'm glad I picked a third name that is neither adoptive nor birth but uniquely my own.

Still, the re-naming of adoptees bothers me. A while back I posted about a couple who is effectively replacing their deceased child with an adoptee. They gave this Chinese girl an Irish name, when she is old enough to know her Chinese one. Being adopted causes enough identity confusion without having your name taken from you.

It seems like a lot of adoptees change their names, either to take back their birth names or to do what I did and re-name themselves entirely. I see this as a reclaiming of our destinies, a way to have a choice in something that, for us, was choiceless. I respect adoptive parents who make their adoptees' original names part of their adoptive names. It's a nice way to synthesize both. But, I think we as adoptees have to forge our own destinies, and for some of us re-naming ourselves is part of that. The first time I tried to re-name myself, I was in third grade and tried to get everyone to call me a nickname based on my initials. The second time, I was in high school. The third time was when I took on the name by which people know me today. Names, for many adoptees, seem fluid. Perhaps it's because there is often this assumption, sometimes true, sometimes not, that we must reshape our identities for the benefit of the people around us lest we be "rejected" once more. Adoptees are very, very good at putting on the masks of expectations, and our names are part of that.

There is also this notion that if we adoptees know the names of our birth parents, that somehow armageddon will insue. This is another way in which names are used as power over others. The adoption industry uses our birth names and the names of our biological relatives to maintain control over us, even after we become adults.

When it came to naming my own children, I had a hard time. I wanted to give them names that would reflect their heritage from both me and their father, but I had nothing to offer from my side. So I picked first names that were vaguely Irish, that being the only heritage I was aware of at the time, and middle names from my husband's family. I wish I knew some names on my birth family's side so I could have considered those. Some people might think that's wrong. I don't see why. People name children after family members all the time, but if you're adopted it's like you're suddenly a crazed stalker merely for suggesting it.

One thing that greatly annoys me is that I cannot get rid of my maiden name, my adoptive parents' surname. It appears on my children's birth certificates, for crying out loud. Having been disowned by that family, I think I should have the right to change it. But there is no ability in the U.S. to change one's maiden name; it's considered something that never changes which is why it's used for identity verification. If they are allowed to disown me, I should be able to rid myself of their name, yet I'm stuck with it.

Names do, indeed, have power, and it's that power that the adoption industry wants to deny to adoptees like me, whose records are sealed. I want the power of my name returned to me in the form of access to my original birth certificate. Until then, I will remain less than those for whom the power of their names has always been their own.

15 comments Saturday, September 26, 2009

Katherine Heigl is adopting a child because she's "done with the whole idea of having my own children."

"I wanted to tell everybody so you don't think I stole a Korean baby," she said, laughing.
She's getting a lot of sympathy in the press for adopting a child with medical issues. Okay, I get that, nice humanitarian effort and all. BUT, baby selling is not a laughing matter. It is devastating to adoptees and birth families alike. And there is too much of a "rescuer" mentality here for my liking, as if she is trying to garner sympathy for being so big-hearted as to adopt a special-needs child. Is she going to give up her career to be available 24/7 to this child? Could she have accomplished the same thing by adopting, say, a 15 year old African-American boy, someone who is not as malleable as an infant?

I understand Heigl's character on Gray's Anatomy was a birth mom. I can't speak to that because my TV watching consists almost exclusively of science fiction (why bother with mainstream stuff when I'm busy plowing through the entirety of Hercules: The Legendary Journeys? Mmm.. Kevin Sorbo...) But I can tell you about Heigl's show from a few years back, Roswell, in which she played a half human/half alien hybrid whom--ahem!--had no access to her origins. In other words, the epitome of the sealed-records adoptee.

Let me quote some of Heigl's dialogue from the season 2 episode, "Surprise". In this scene Heigl's character Isabel has returned to her place of origin, the pod chamber where she and the other three human/alien hybrids awoke. She's just been through a really traumatic experience on her birthday, no less, and she begins a monologue to her birth mother.
Happy birthday, Isabel. I'm 18 today, Mother. October 25th, at least that's the day we've always celebrated as my birthday, but you're the only one who really knows the real day. I guess that's why I came to the only place I've ever seen you. I loved that day, but you disappeared and the picture of you is already fading and it's all I had. I was so happy because you were beautiful and warm and I even though I looked like you. But it wasn't you, not really. I don't know what you look like. Maybe I'll never know. It isn't fair, I need you! Where are you? God, it's my birthday, we should be together! How could you leave us? How could you tell us that important information about destinies and saving the world and then just disappear... answer me!
I can't watch that scene without crying because it pretty much sums up exactly what I'd like to ask my own mother every year on my own birthday.

I wonder if Heigl has equated this with her own adoption efforts. For her new daughter's sake, I hope she has. To watch Roswell is to gain a greater understanding of how much it sucks sometimes to be adopted, how much it especially sucks not knowing where you are from, who your people are, and what your history is... and what lengths others are willing to go through to keep you from knowing.