Racism

Supporting Adoptees Through These Devastating and Uncertain Times

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Many adoptees are really struggling right now. Not only around the results of the election and what all of this could mean for our individual and collective futures, but also given the fact that November is National Adoptee Awareness Month—a particularly heavy and triggering time for many.

Please understand that we may be experiencing and navigating some really big feelings, and that can manifest in a variety of ways.

A little grace is really needed right now and can go a long way.

Provide space for us to share and process with you.

If the adoptees in your life are expressing our concerns and fears to you—please do not attempt to minimize, explain away, or dismiss how we are feeling.

Know that our truths may challenge your personal, political, or religious beliefs; your truth; and your worldview.

We need you to be open and willing to have these conversations with us and be present for us without letting your beliefs and discomfort get in the way.

These conversations and opportunities for connection and building trust will rarely be easy or comfortable, but they will be worth it.

Do your best to check yourself and refrain from responding defensively or making this about you.

While it is human nature to want to make things better—it is important to learn how to just sit with us in our pain without attempting to “fix” us.

The pain and grief adoptees navigate cannot necessarily be fixed, but we may choose to entrust you to help us carry it—so we are not bearing the weight of it all alone.

Our fears may seem irrational to you, but they feel very real to us. There is great vulnerability that exists in sharing one’s fears with others.

If an adoptee trusts you enough to open up to you in this way, please understand that this is a very big deal and should not be taken lightly.

How you respond, especially in these moments of great vulnerability—could have a profound and lifelong impact on an adoptee’s felt safety, our ability to trust you, and our willingness to open up to you in the future.

It can be really difficult for adoptees to open up and trust the people in our lives. And you may only get one chance to get it right.

Adoptee identities and experiences are incredibly layered, deeply complex, and unique to each adoptee.

You won’t fully understand the depths of what we are going through and how we are feeling—and we don’t necessarily expect you to.

There are things you can do, though.

You can do your best to see us.

See us as whole beings.

We may exist with brokenness within us; trauma histories; severed attachments; severed ties to our families, communities, cultures, languages, and countries of origin; profound lifelong losses; missing pieces of our pasts; questions that may never be answered…

But we are whole beings who need and deserve to be treated as such.

Be open to listening and truly hearing us.

And not just to the adoptees in your life. It is important to listen and learn from other adoptees as well.

Listen with openness, care, compassion, respect, curiosity, and with an eagerness to learn.

Listen with the understanding that what we are sharing is our truth in that moment.

Details may be missing or they may change. Our interpretations and perceptions of our memories and lived experiences can and do change and evolve over time. Our feelings about our truths may be ever changing.

Our acknowledgement of, identification with, attachment to, and understanding of our identities (racial, ethnic, cultural, LGBTQIA2S+, etc.) may be fluid.

Please do not attempt to fact-check us when we are sharing our fears and our truths with you.

Please refrain from attempting to fill in the missing pieces with what you imagine or hope to be true, or what you feel may bring us comfort in those moments.

It’s not about being right in these moments.

It’s about being present, meeting us where we are, and holding space for our truths.

In these moments when we are sharing our truths with you—we need you to believe us.

Our truths are often heavy to bear and can be incredibly difficult to hear.

It’s okay if you don’t know what to say.

These are truths that we are living and breathing and experiencing with every fiber of our being. Yet it can be challenging for us to find the words and language to express our truths to you.

You can say a lot with your presence and how you show up for us—especially in these really challenging and vulnerable moments.

It is important to do your best to not make it about you. Your thoughts, feelings, perceptions, and experiences absolutely matter, but in these moments when an adoptee is pouring their heart out to you—it needs to be about them…not about you.

If you respond with disbelief, big emotions, defensiveness, or a desire to shame or point fingers—you may end up shutting down the conversation before it even begins. And if you are not able to show us that you can be trusted with our truth—we may not feel safe to open up to you again in the future and you may not have the opportunity to revisit the conversation, repair the harm, or make it right.

One of the most important things you can do for the adoptees in your life is to believe us.

There are identities that the adoptees in your life may hold, identify with, and/or may be exploring that you may not be privy to.

Racism and bigotry do exist and do happen in overt and covert ways. People you perceive to be “good, upstanding people” can absolutely be racists and bigots.

These realities and truths can and do coexist.

You don’t need to see or be aware of it in order for us to experience it.

BIPOC communities have experienced great harm and threats to our safety as a result of the hate and vitriol spewed by the President-elect during his previous term. Those threats to our safety and to our entire existence will continue and are likely to increase exponentially once he is back in office.

As children and throughout our adulthood, many intercountry and transracial adoptees have been taunted with, “Go back to where you came from” or “You don’t belong here”.

Those taunts will now undoubtedly shift to “You are going to be deported”.

In fact, they already have.

And the threat of possible deportation may now become a very real possibility in the future.

Tens of thousands of adoptees living in the U.S. do not have citizenship—through no fault of their own. Many adoptees who are U.S. citizens do not have the necessary paperwork to prove their citizenship. Adoptees have been deported and sent to their countries of origin—often where they have no connections, no knowledge of the language or culture, and no home.

They quite literally find themselves strangers in a foreign land.

Immigrants can and have had their U.S. citizenship revoked.

Many adoptees are immigrants and the world will always see us as immigrants first.

The fact that we are adoptees may or may not matter.

The fact that the U.S. is the only place many of us have ever known or remember will not matter to people who hate us and don’t want us here.

Adoptees’ fears around our citizenship and our ability to remain in the U.S. in the future are very real and very valid.

Many adoptees have already or are at risk of being stripped of our right to make decisions about our own bodies and reproductive health. Availability of and access to safe, equitable, and gender-affirming care may be virtually non-existent in the not-so-distant future.

People with sex organs and reproductive systems that are biologically female are already being taunted with “your body, my choice” and threats of rape and other forms of gender-based violence and egregious harm.

A number of adoptees have disabilities.
A number of adoptees have and/or will develop chronic health issues.
Many adoptees battle mental health issues.

In the not-so-distant future, we may no longer be able to access or afford to access the services, care, medications, and accommodations we need to navigate this world and to survive.

And I could go on and on about the ways in which all of this may impact the adoptees in your life and why we are so deeply, overwhelmingly, and devastatingly afraid right now.

Some may view this as ridiculous and fearmongering, but the reality is that these are issues we need to be thinking about and giving real credence to and conversations we need to be having.

Your action and inaction will matter now more than ever before.

Adoptees don’t need saving, but we do need you to have our backs.

We need you to listen and truly hear us. And not just to the perspectives and messages that exist within an echo chamber and are perpetually happy and comforting and validating to hear.

We need you to truly hear and learn from adoptees who are speaking to our pain and trauma and who are challenging you to do better and be better for the adoptees in your life.

We need you to center and elevate our voices and perspectives.

While you initially may have made the decision to adopt an infant, child, or teen—the reality is that, god-willing, we will grow up and grow into the complex, layered, evolving, beautiful, and messy humans we are.

We need you to be our parents first and understand that all of this comes with your decision to adopt us.

We need you to be able to sit with and help us hold these truths that are painful and uncomfortable to bear.

We need you to care and show us that you care.

We need you to believe us.

We need you to weather these storms with us and do whatever you need to do to not turn your backs on us right now.

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I Am Someone’s Daughter: Supporting Your Child as a Transracially Adoptive Parent

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Note: I want to acknowledge the fact that transracial adoption encompasses a diverse spectrum of family compositions. However, a vast majority of the transracially adoptive families with whom I have worked include white parents who have adopted children of color. This disproportionality is reflected across the board in all types of adoption, so this post was written with this specific family composition in mind.

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I truly appreciate those who do not experience the world as people of color who are fighting the fight for and alongside people who do. Because the onus of educating others about how it feels to be a person of color in this world should not fall on the shoulders of those who experience it. Because—regardless of the messages people of color attempt to convey—the messages are often somehow viewed as more valid and more accepted when they are shared by those who are not people of color.

Because people of color need to know their place.
Because people of color need to assimilate.
Because people of color must remain silent.
Because people of color are more accepted when they don’t fight back.

It is your responsibility, especially as transracially adoptive parents, to educate yourselves and those around you.

To read.
To listen.
To open your hearts and your minds to the messages being shared.
To wholeheartedly immerse yourselves and your family in the communities with which your child identifies.

I have written about and shared my thoughts on many issues relating to adoption throughout the years, but the one issue that exhausts me the most to write about is race. Because there are people who refuse to believe that racism exists. There are people who refuse to accept the fact that the world will view their children of color differently. There are people who refuse to accept the fact that their children of color will experience the world differently.

Because they don’t see color.
Because they know and are friends with people of color.
Because there is a family of color in their neighborhood.
Because their family and their community are inclusive of people of color.
Because they love all humans, regardless of the color of their skin.

You cannot truly love or accept people of color if you refuse to listen to them.
If you refuse to accept their reality—their truth.
If you refuse to hear their messages because they hurt too much—because they may reflect realities about yourself that are difficult to acknowledge and accept.

If you are not willing to listen and learn from people of color—regardless of how difficult the messages are to hear—you cannot truly love or accept them.

No, I absolutely do not attribute all of the evils and injustices of the world to race.
Yes, I absolutely believe that we should hold ourselves accountable for our words and our actions.
No, I do not believe that everything is about race.
Yes, I do believe that a lot of the hate and political unrest that currently exists in our country is race-related.

Because some things ARE about race.

As a child, every time I saw someone pull their eyes back when looking at me, I learned that the world saw me as different.

Every time I heard the taunts about “dirty knees”, I learned that the world saw me as inferior.

Every time I heard someone tell me to “go back to where [I] came from”, I was reminded that I didn’t belong.

The first time I heard someone call me a “chink bitch”, I learned that the world was not a safe place for people like me.

And, the first time I heard my brown son say, “Mom? People are going to treat me differently because I am darker than my brother, aren’t they?” I knew that the world was not a safe place for people like my sons either.

The world teaches people of color how to externalize racism when we experience microaggressions and macroaggressions;
when our experiences and truths are invalidated, minimized, or completely denied;
when we are told that we have created our own oppression;
when we are told that we make everything about race;
when our messages are met with defensiveness and hatred and vitriol;
when we are forced to assimilate;
when we are forced to remain silent.

When you look at your child, you may see them as beautiful;
you see them as a gift;
you see their talents and abilities;
you see possibility;
you see their future;
you see them for who they truly are.

When others see your child, they will immediately make judgments about your child based on their outer appearance. What others see in your child will determine the way they interact with your child—if they choose to do so at all.

And, the reality is that the world may view your child as “cute” or “adorable” or “safe” now, but god-willing—your child will become an adult some day—and the world will undoubtedly view your child differently as they age.
The world may grow to fear your child as your child grows—for no other reason than the color of their skin.

It is your job as their parent to help prepare your child for the realities of the world. Because that is an aspect of what you signed up for when you chose to adopt transracially or transculturally.

If you are unable to hear the messages of people of color who are not known to you, and your first instinct is to put your defenses up and attack—how do you expect to create a safe and open environment in which your child can talk to you about race and their experiences with racism?

While it may be easy for you to hide behind your computer or phone and spew hatred or vehemently deny the experiences of people of color—it is exhausting and heartbreaking and infuriating to be a person of color who is pouring our hearts out to you and sharing our thoughts and experiences with you (or elevating the voices and experiences of other people of color), only to be attacked and to have our realities invalidated in such hateful and hurtful ways.

When I write posts like these or anything race-related, I literally have to brace myself before posting.

Because the responses are often the same.
Because there will always be people who don’t want to hear the messages I am attempting to convey.
Because there will always be people who are so offended and so angered by our truths, that they choose to attack blindly.
Because I am not their daughter.

I am telling you now that I am someone’s daughter.
And, what I have to say matters.

Please listen.
Please learn.

Because what I am telling you will undoubtedly become your child’s truth or experience at some point in their lives—and it is your job to prepare them for the realities of the world.

I Choose Love

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I have been thinking a lot about the current state of affairs in this country, and I find the hatred and unrest surrounding it all so upsetting. There are people I love and care about very much who remain on opposing sides of many issues. They have their opinions and beliefs and I have my own. However, I don’t love or respect them any less because we don’t see eye-to-eye. They have their reasons for their beliefs and I have my own.

The thing that really bothers me about all of this is the fact that some people only seem to care about being right. There have been so many arguments and debates over whose principles and beliefs reign supreme and why all members of the opposing sides are horrible and deserve to be made fools of or completely cut from one’s life. Yes, there are definitely instances in which the cutting of ties is absolutely the answer, but this is certainly not the case in every situation.

Call me naïve or a bleeding heart, but none of this is about being right for me. It’s about loving your neighbor—regardless of race, gender, religion, orientation, socioeconomic status, political beliefs, etc. It’s about being kind and loving and opening your heart to others and accepting them and loving them for who they are.

You want to talk about God? I don’t know about yours, but my God is a loving and righteous God who walks with His sons and daughters and carries us through our struggles and supports us as we bear our burdens. He is a God who loves everyone, regardless of our perceived sins and shortcomings. He is a God who kneels and washes the feet of the poor and suffering, who takes His sons and daughters into His arms without question, and loves freely and openly and without the need to judge or discriminate.

My family has been perceived as different for as long as I can remember. When I registered my oldest son for school, the school system forced me to choose one of his races over the other—nonchalantly forcing his own mother to strip him of half of his racial identity without concern of the implications of doing so. I can’t remember a time when we have walked into a store and not felt the burning glares and distain for our mixed family from older Asian men and women who obviously feel I have somehow disgraced their culture because I married outside of my race and created tiny humans whose blood is not purely Asian. I have had numerous racial slurs flung at me throughout my life. These experiences could easily be perceived as reason enough to hate, but that is not who I am and that certainly was not the way I was raised.

The monumental ruling to allow all couples of legal age to marry in all 50 states matters to me as a straight ally, as a wife, and as a mom. It matters to me because I was allowed to marry the love of my life over 12 years ago and I cannot imagine a life without him as my partner, my other half, and father of my children—both in love and in law. As someone who was legally allowed to marry her partner, I cannot imagine the pain of loving someone so much and wanting to spend the rest of your life with them, and being legally banned from being able to do so.

I have so many dreams for my sons. I have no way of knowing who they will be when they grow up or who they will choose to love. I will love them regardless of whether or not they attend college or achieve their perceived successes in life. I will love them if they are gay and I will love them if they are straight. And, because of this monumental ruling, I will be able to dance with them at their weddings regardless of whom they choose as life partners and where they choose to live.

I will continue to remain unshaken in my belief that all people matter. No religion or law will dictate how I choose to treat others. I will never claim to easily or always love or embrace others or treat others with kindness. Doing so will always be both a struggle and a conscious choice. But, regardless of my spiritual or political beliefs, I will always try to choose love. I will always try to choose kindness. And, I will always try to choose what I feel in my heart is right.

Hate builds mountains. Love moves them. Choose love.

An Adoptee’s Perspective: 15 Things Transracially Adoptive Parents Need to Know

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1. Race and culture matter. My race and culture of origin are integral to my identity and will always be a part of me. Regardless of how much society claims to be colorblind, I will always be characterized and labeled by the color of my skin. Because I do not look like you, it is important for you to show me—through your words and actions—that being different is okay.

2. As a transracial family, our lives will change in ways we could never imagine. Be prepared that the perception of our family will completely change…as will our views of the world.

3. Honoring my race and culture of origin should not just be something that our family does on special occasions. It should be an integral part of our everyday lives as well. A few ways in which you can honor my race and culture on a daily basis are displaying photos or pieces of artwork that reflect my culture and ethnicity in our home, cooking ethnic meals, incorporating words from my native language into our everyday conversations, and reading cultural bedtime stories. Normalizing our efforts to honor my race and culture will make me feel a little less different and will help foster pride in who I am.

4. Prepare yourself for the possibility that your relationships with friends, family members, and others may drastically change due to prejudices you (and they!) never knew they had. You may need to examine who the people are in our lives and whether or not having them around will be more beneficial or detrimental to our family.

5. I should not be used as the bridge into my racial or cultural communities of origin—it is your responsibility to be that bridge for me. As a transracially adoptive parent, it is imperative that you provide opportunities for me to learn about and grow my connections with my racial and cultural communities of origin.

6. Nobody is expecting you to be the perfect transracially adoptive parent, and you absolutely cannot do it alone. It truly takes a village to raise a child who has been adopted transracially. It is important to accept the things you do not know about my race and culture of origin. Rather than seeing that lack of knowledge as a shortcoming or failure, try to view it as an opportunity to learn with me. Use every opportunity possible to involve our entire family when learning about my race and culture of origin. In doing so, you will be forming a stronger bond with me and helping me feel like an important part of our family.

7. Know that there will be times when you will need to step out of your comfort zone to provide me with the opportunities I need to learn about my race and culture. Spending time in places where YOU are the minority should be an integral part of being a transracially adoptive parent. Interacting with and forming relationships with people who look like ME, but don’t look or act the way YOU do, is an absolute must. Remember that my journey takes me outside of my comfort zone on a daily basis. I need for you to be willing to take a walk in my shoes and weather those storms with me.

8. If we do not live in a diverse area, and are financially able to do so, you may want to consider moving to an area that is more ethnically and culturally diverse, or an area that reflects my racial and cultural identity. If we are unable to relocate, or if we have significant ties (work, family, etc.) to the community in which we currently live—it may be necessary to drive an hour or two (or more!) to provide me with the opportunities to interact with and learn from people who look like me. It is imperative that you make every effort possible to provide me with these experiences.

9. Though on vastly differing levels, privilege exists within every racial and cultural community. Transracial adoption can be unique in the sense that it can provide people with differing levels of privilege within their racial and cultural communities the opportunity to occasionally see the world through the eyes of someone with racial and cultural experiences very different than their own. As a result of this privilege, a certain level of racism and prejudice exists in all communities. One important thing to keep in mind is that your level of privilege changes within your racial and cultural community when you are not with me. I, however, do not have that luxury, as your community will always view me as different, and my level of privilege within that community will always be different than yours.

10. Even though it is the PC thing to say, we do not live in a colorblind world—we live in a color aware world. While most people are accepting of different races, there are people who view the world differently and have very ignorant and close-minded beliefs when it comes to race. It is inevitable that I will experience racism at some point in my life, and it is important that I know how to handle those situations. By externalizing racism, you are teaching me that racism isn’t about me—it is about the ignorance of others who do not understand.

11. Remember that I am learning how to tell my story from you. I am learning how to deal with racism and prejudice from you. While you absolutely need to do what you can to protect me from potentially racist situations, it is also important to occasionally answer the questions about my race—if you feel it is safe to do so. These situations can sometimes become opportunities for others to help instill in me a great sense of racial and cultural pride.

12. Know that my racial and/or cultural identity may change at some point in my life. There may be times in which I will reject the racial identity you are working so hard to develop. It is important for you to lay the groundwork for me, but also allow me to explore and develop my racial identity in my own way. There are so many things that are out of my control when it comes to adoption. One thing I can—and should be allowed to claim ownership of—is my racial identity.

13. The greatest amount of scrutiny I will experience will most likely be from members of my own racial and cultural communities. Being rejected by members of my racial and cultural communities is one of the most painful forms of rejection one could ever experience. There is a great likelihood that I will be told that I am not “Black enough” or “Asian enough” at some point in my life. I should not have to prove that I belong or feel that I am less than by members of my racial and cultural communities. There are many losses in adoption, but the loss of my racial and cultural identity is one that can and should be avoided at all costs.

14. It is important to take great care in not losing yourself in the process when honoring my race and culture. While you won’t necessarily be able to teach me about my culture, you can and should teach me about yours. As a multicultural child, I will have so much more to offer the world.

15. Transracial parenting is not easy. There will be struggles and there will be triumphs. Do the best you can with the resources you have available to you, and never lose sight of your goal of raising me with racial and cultural pride. Every effort you make to honor my racial and cultural identity will make a difference in my life, and you will be surprised with how much you will learn about yourself and others along the way!