point of view - Pact, An Adoption Alliance

Transcription

Summer 2014
pact’s
point of view
The newsletter for adoptive families with children of color
In This Issue
How Would Your Child’s First Family
Rate You? by Clara Roberson
and Samantha Johnson1
Talking With Children About
Sadness in Adoption
by Dawn Friedman3
Talking To Kids About Gender
Diversity by Alison Delpercio4
Listening Tools For Building
Confidence by Patty Wipfler6
In Every Issue
Director’s Corner: Considering
Opening Your Child’s Adoption
and Getting Ready to Search
7
Ask Pact
8
Teen Corner
9
Ask a First/Birth Mother by Susan
Dusza Guerra Leksander
10
Book Corner
Born From The Heart
by Berta Serrano
12
Black Stats
by Monique W. Morris
13
How Would Your Child’s
First Family Rate You?
In this issue of Point of View, we offer two letters written by the birth mothers of
children who were each placed for adoption about six years ago. These letters
caused us to think about what it would mean to adoptive parents (and their adopted
children) to be assessed based on the generosity and spirit of communication
that they’ve established with their kids’ first families on behalf of their children. Of
course, both of these women are describing open adoptions. But even for those
of you (us) who have closed adoptions, wouldn’t it be interesting to ask ourselves:
how might we fare in terms of the respect and esteem of the women who literally
delivered our beloved children into the world? We applaud these two women and
the families these children were adopted into as exemplary in showing us all how to
put children’s needs first, and for modeling respect in both directions for the “other”
parent(s) of adopted children.
Hi!
My name is Clara, and five-and-a-half
years ago, I placed my son Jonah for
adoption with Heidi and James. I felt
inspired to write a letter to you because
I know you are considering placing your
child with them for adoption as well.
I think it’s good to note right off that I
wasn’t asked to do this—it was my idea
because I know how scary placing a child
for adoption can be. I hope this helps.
Since making an adoption plan for my
From left to right: Clara, her son Delano (who
she is parenting), her son Jonah, and Jonah’s
son, I have visited with Heidi, James,
adoptive parents. Photo taken in 2010.
and Jonah at least nine times (I live in
Kentucky, they live in California). Our birth parent/adoptive family contract only
states that we agree to meet once a year in person, while the frequency of letters
and picture updates from Heidi and James to me will vary as Jonah gets older.
Obviously, nine times is way more then what was agreed upon for visits, and
(cont. on pg. 2)
pact
provides adoption
services to children of color,
including both adoptive
placement and support programs
for children and youth. To serve
the children, we offer parents
lifelong education and support on
family, race and adoption issues.
Terminology: Birth vs. First Parents
The adoption world is undergoing a shift in language describing women/parents who give
birth to children who are later placed for adoption or into foster care. This language evolution
is happening because many of those parents have articulated a preference for the term
“first” mother or parent, versus “birth” mother or parent. Their reasons largely focus on the
term “birth” as emphasizing their relationship to the adopted child as solely one of biology;
of relegating the mother to a mere vessel, the father as a sperm donor. Unfortunately, this
reductionism doesn’t allow for the acknowledgment of the other important ways in which first
(birth) parents are significant to their children. Pact chooses to use both terms, but recognizes
the importance of these discussions. We support the point of view and want to follow the
lead of the often-underrepresented first parents in their desire to name themselves.
How Would Your Child’s First Family Rate You? (cont. from pg. 1)
I’ve received more videos, pictures, and updates then I
can count. I want you to feel confident that whatever your
agreement with them they will uphold it 110%. From my
experience, they seem happy to do it!
I cared a lot about what Jonah’s life would look like with Heidi
and James, and since I’ve been so involved, I can actually tell
you about it and hopefully give you some insight. They live in
a beautiful home in a cool part of San Francisco. They have an
area with lots of toys and books set up for Jonah right outside
their dining room, and another one in a living room space for
arts and crafts. Heidi sends me cool birthday and Valentines
cards that Jonah makes for me.
Jonah goes to a private school that is very diverse and seems
almost perfect. It’s really high energy and the teachers are
really nice. Heidi and James searched for months to find a
good school that paid attention to different learning styles,
race, and so forth. And this is just a preschool, if that gives
you any indication about how important education is in their
home!:)
I get pictures and videos of their vacations. They go skiing,
swimming, camping…and pretty much anything else you
could think a child would want to do, they do as a family
often. Getting pictures and videos of him skiing or swimming
always brightens my day and reminds me how blessed he is.
I believe Heidi and James are probably some of the best
people you will ever meet. Just knowing them and watching
who and how they are in the world has made me a better
person. I know that probably sounds a little fabricated,
but one of the most valuable things that’s come out of my
adoption experience is that the truth about people and life
can actually be good. Great, even!
When I was looking for a family for Jonah, my best friend—
who I know was only trying to help—said, “Clara, you know,
it just seems like you’re looking for some kind of fairy tale
adoption. I just don’t think that happens.” She has since said
how she couldn’t have been more wrong. I found exactly
what I was looking for and much more. I hope that is true for
your story too. God bless!
Clara Roberson
vvv
Hello fellow Birth Mother,
I feel like calling you Sister because we are about to share a
similar experience, and someday perhaps become familiar,
and that fills me with a joy that I can’t help sharing now. I say this because I may not know you yet, or the particular
details of your story. But I know that you are trying to find the
best home for your baby, and I know how terrifyingly limited
that search can be. I will not bore you with
my story, though I am
available to share and
talk about it anytime
you’d wish. I will say
that the home and
family I chose for my
son is the best decision
that I ever made. Sierra and Celia are the
kindest, most accepting
Samantha’s father, her son Macai, and
people I’ve ever met. I
Samantha
have never felt judged
for any decisions, or separated from my son, or even slightly
unwelcome in any contact that we have had over the years
we’ve come to know each other. Neither they, nor their
families, who I have come to think of as mine, too, have ever
given any hints of malice, separation, or dishonesty.
If you are reading this, it may be because you are looking for a
way out of something, or maybe you can’t make a decision on
which road leads home. But what you’ll soon find is that you’re
really looking for a way in, and good company you’ll keep on
the long journey ahead. Adoption isn’t the end of your love for your baby and it isn’t
your last resort. It’s only the beginning to the life you choose
to have with your child. Adoption isn’t dumping your baby; it’s
giving your newborn the chance at a life you cannot give.
I may sound like a greeting card or some indoctrination
brochure for open adoption, but I am being as honest and open
as I can about a situation that is at best scary and painful; at
worst, a trauma you can endure. I just want you to know that
this is the option I chose and why. I can be pretty harsh with myself, but I am opening up because
I have learned that many birth mothers have similar feelings.
For most of the birth mothers I’ve met, being separated from
our babies makes us feel like failures, making the world seem
so insecure and hopeless, with all our other mistakes easily
stacked on top of it. But this family that I am a part of now has
inspired me to do better, to be better, to make them proud of
me. I am never afraid that they will take my son, Macai, away
forever, and I trust them to keep him safe from everything. The
only thing they’ve ever asked of me is more time, and when
will I be comfortable coming to see more of my family.
Sierra and Celia are my best friends and the mothers of my
son; they have my utmost respect and I am fiercely loyal to
them. My father considers them his adopted daughters, which
would make them my sisters. I could ask for nothing more
wonderful in my life.
This is the family you and your baby could join. This decision is yours, but the family it completes is yours too.
Sincerely,
Samantha Johnson
2
point of view | Summer 2014
Talking with
Children About
Sadness in Adoption
By Dawn Friedman
“I
t’s very dangerous where I was born.”
The little boy* in my office was eight years old and
worried. He was sitting on the
edge of his chair, fiddling with
the markers in front of him,
popping their lids on and off.
“There are dangerous people
there and sometimes there are
floods. Sometimes there isn’t
enough to eat.”
Dawn Friedman
He was speaking in a hushed
voice, even though the white
noise machine was humming
outside my doorway, shielding
our conversation from his
parents in the waiting room.
“I worry about my birth mom. What if she gets washed
away? What if she gets hurt? Where does she get her food?
My mom says there aren’t grocery stores there.”
Adopted from Southeast Asia as an infant, my client’s parents
brought him to counseling because he was starting to ask
why his birth mother didn’t love him enough to keep him.
Without having any concrete information about his biological
parents, my client’s mother had told him about the particular
challenges for people living in that country at that time. She
talked about how hard it might have been to keep a baby
safe, hoping this would help her son feel better about his
placement in the orphanage.
“I wanted him to understand that his birth mom made a very,
very difficult choice because she wanted him to have a better
life. So I told him how harsh living conditions are there,” she
explained to me. “I didn’t want him to feel like she turned her
back on him.”
Whenever her son would bring up his birth mom, his adoptive
mom would tell him the story again—about what a hard life
he’d left, and how treacherous his birth country could be—all
with the hope that he would feel grateful instead of feeling
rejected. However, her son still felt rejected, and he also felt
guilty and anxious about his birth mom. He told me that he
resented his nice things: his Wii, his big soft bed, and his
room full of toys.
“Just give it all away,” he said. Or alternatively, “Forget those
orphanage kids. They’ll probably all starve to death anyway.”
The adoptive parents I meet in my practice are incredibly
concerned with protecting their children from the cold, hard
truth of adoption, which is that before you can join a new
family, you must lose your old one.
Many of these parents don’t want their children to feel
rejected by their birth parents, so they create a narrative
meant to comfort. Their stories—whether they are of
sanctified birth parents wise enough to know they cannot
parent, of demonized birth parents who placed their children
as penance, or of countries too dangerous for babies to
thrive— have unintended consequences.
Children internalize what they are told. They believe that if
their birth parents are perfect, then there must be something
wrong with them. They believe that if their birth parents are
bad people, then they must be bad people, too. They hear
about the trials of the land of their birth, and they fear the
lives they never got to have, often feeling guilty for missing a
country that they are told is not good enough for them.
Parents who are struggling for a way to tell their children their
stories without doing further harm would do well to bear in
mind the following truths:
1. There is no way around sadness. While many wellintentioned adoptive parents change or shape their
children’s stories in an effort to avoid creating sadness,
there is no way to ensure our children don’t grieve their
losses. Instead of thinking that we need to shield them
from pain, we must remember that our parenting task is
to help them cope with it.
2. Stories need to grow and change with our children.
Many adoptive parents tell their children their adoption
stories at a set, formal time: before bed, perhaps, or
each year on the day they celebrate their child’s birth
or adoption. But these stories need to live in children’s
everyday lives, and they need to respond to children’s
ever changing developmental needs. While the rhythm of
ritual has power (the sing-song story of the ride home or
the repetitive language used to describe the first time an
adoptive parent held her child), there needs to be room
for the story to become more nuanced, more detailed,
and more honest in its lapses.
3. Adoption is full of paradox. Adoption is never ever all
one thing or all another. Children who have come from
war-torn countries or inadequate orphanages do not need
their beginnings romanticized or pathologized. Parents
can introduce the idea of ambivalence (what therapist
Barbara Cain, MSW, calls “double dip feelings”) early
on. Countries can be troubled and still have beauty. Birth
parents can be good people and make mistakes. Children
can be happy to be in their adoptive families and still sad
to be away from their birth parents.
In the course of our work together, my client and I talked
about what was actually happening in the part of the world
where he was born. I brought in library books detailing the
day-to-day lives of a typical family there, and we looked at
videos of the orphanages. We talked about how a harsh life
(cont. on page 15)
Summer 2014 | point of view
3
Talking to Kids
About Gender
Diversity
By Alison Delpercio
“There has been a great diversity of opinion on the subject,
but the generally accepted rule is pink for the boy and blue for
the girl. Pink being a more decided and stronger color is more
suitable for the boy; while blue, which is more delicate and
dainty, is prettier for the girl.” – Ladies Home Journal, 1918
I
f you’re like me, that quote above
in which the Ladies Home Journal
declares the rule of “pink for the boy
and blue for the girl” may have come
as a shock. “Wait, is this for real?”
I wondered. Because now, almost
100 years later, we live by the exact
opposite rule. Ask any adult and
most kids, and they’ll tell you without
a doubt, “Pink is a girl color and blue
is a boy color.” Although we may not
Alison Delpercio
think about it, gender-specific rules
like this one permeate many aspects of our lives, and the lives
of our children. Indeed, it starts before a child is even born
with that immediate question—“Boy or girl?”—to which the
answer dictates all sorts of decisions, from nursery décor to
the acceptable color of onesies.
These rules are so ingrained in our culture, that many of us
never even question where they come from. They simply are.
The Ladies Home Journal quote shows us that these rules
are not as steadfast as we think. In fact, they are socially
constructed—they exist because we created them. Why
does this matter? Well, beyond the seemingly trivial gender
expectations placed on infants, children from a young age are
expected to act, play, and dress according to their gender.
Increasingly, attention is being given to children and young
adults who express their gender in ways that don’t conform to
gender stereotypes. Perhaps you have seen media coverage
of transgender children. For example, a young girl named Jazz
was featured in an interview with Barbara Walters in 2013.1
The doctors declared Jazz to be a boy at birth, but she now
identifies as a girl and wears female clothing. To understand
Jazz’s experience, consider the difference between “gender
identity” and “sex.” Everyone has a gender identity—it is our
innermost concept of self as male, female, a blend of both
or neither. It’s how we perceive ourselves and what we call
ourselves related to gender. Sex is a biological distinction
made at birth, based on our body parts.
It’s also worth noting, since there tends to be confusion on
the issue, that “gender identity” is not the same as “sexual
Interview available online here: http://abcnews.go.com/2020/video/
transgender-11-listening-jazz-18260857
1
4
orientation,” which refers to a person’s enduring physical,
emotional, romantic, and/or spiritual attraction to another
person. Everyone also has a sexual orientation, such as
straight, gay, or bisexual, and we don’t know someone’s
sexual orientation from their gender identity or expression.
Put simply: gender identity is “who we are” and sexual
orientation is “who we love.”
For the majority of us, our sex and our gender identity
correspond with each other (e.g., the doctor declared that I
was a girl at birth and I identify as female). For transgender
children like Jazz, this is not the case. Jazz’s gender identity is
female but she was declared to be male at birth.
As you can imagine, strict rules of dress and behavior based
on gender can make life very difficult for children like Jazz.
However, it’s important for us to see how these gender
rules actually prevent all kids from feeling comfortable
being themselves, not just kids who are transgender. Take a
moment to think back to your own childhood—most adults
can remember a time when they were told as a child that
they weren’t acting “right” according to their gender. For
example, most women can remember a time when they
were told to “act more ladylike,” maybe because they were
being too loud or playing too rough, and for men, maybe
something along the lines of “big boys don’t fuss” sounds
familiar. By and large, these childhood memories are not
positive ones for us adults.
It follows then, that children and youth who are made to feel
different and “less than” because of their gender identity or
expression are struggling as they learn, grow, and develop
into young adults. These youth fair much worse than their
peers in many areas—from mental health and well-being,
to school achievement and involvement in extracurricular
activities. In fact, research shows that strict gender rules
harm kids and keep them from reaching their potential.
Studies of children in kindergarten through second grade
To learn more about gender’s complexity,
check out these resources:
Books
Gender Born, Gender Made by Diane Erhensaft
Raising My Rainbow: Adventures in Raising a Fabulous,
Gender Creative Son by Lori Duron
The Transgender Child by Stephanie Brill and Rachel Pepper
Websites
Children’s National Medical Center Gender and Sexuality
Psychosocial Programs: www.childrensnational.org
Family Acceptance Project: http://familyproject.sfsu.edu
Gender Spectrum: www.genderspectrum.org
Welcoming Schools: www.welcomingschools.org
PFLAG’s Transgender Network:
http://community.pflag.org/transgender
Philadelphia Trans-Health Conference: www.trans-health.org
TransKids Purple Rainbow Foundation:
www.transkidspurplerainbow.org
TransYouth Family Allies: www.imatyfa.org
show that even subtle enforcement of stereotypes hurt a
child’s performance on quantitative tasks.2 The idea that
athletics are “unfeminine” has been linked to a significant
drop-off in girls’ participation in sports between middle and
high school. And research on older youth shows that if their
families reject them or try to change the way they express
themselves, they could be more than eight times as likely
to attempt suicide compared to kids whose families accept
them for who they are.3
Luckily, there are some simple things parents and caring
adults can do to help all kids be themselves and not worry so
much about how they are “supposed to be.”
First, like most things we may recognize and want to
change about “how life works,” the work starts with us as
individuals. If we take the time to learn more about gender,
children, and youth, these gender rules we’ve never really
given much thought will be recognizable everywhere and we
can start to adjust our own thinking or behavior.
Second, we can all model for our children that it’s okay to
break the gender mold. We can do this through our words
and our actions. Help your kids think critically about the
messages they receive about gender. If they come home
and tell you about a boy in their school who is “so girly,” ask
them to explain what they mean and talk about how it is okay
to be different. This doesn’t have to be overly complicated.
Keep it simple, something like: “Why can’t Julie be the leader
of the debate team just because she’s a girl? Isn’t she good
at debate? And she really likes doing it, right?” or “What’s
wrong with Nathan reading during recess instead of playing
with the other boys? If he likes to read, he should be able to.
Just like how you have fun during recess, right?”
And third, we can all consider other areas in our lives where
gender stereotypes may pop up: from our workplaces to
weekend activities with our friends, and to family gatherings.
After all, the vast majority of us were raised under these rules
and we know them well. Adults are just as likely as children
to enforce them among each other. Helping our friends and
colleagues think critically will go a long way in creating a
community that supports all children to be themselves.
Here’s to creating a world where we all can reach our full
potential – in pink, blue, or any other color! n
Alison Delpercio is the associate director of the Children, Youth &
Families Program at the Human Rights Campaign Foundation (www.
hrc.org), where she advocates for LGBT-welcoming and affirming
practices within child welfare agencies and broader youth-serving
organizations. Alison provides organizations with in-depth technical
assistance in improving their practice with LGBT youth and families. Human Rights Campaign Foundation Welcoming Schools Project.
Gender Identity and Stereotypes: The Impact on Children. Available
online: www.welcomingschools.org/pages/gender-identity-stereotypesthe-impact-on-children
3
Ryan, C. Supportive families, healthy children: Helping families with
lesbian, gay, bisexual & transgender children. San Francisco, CA: Family
Acceptance Project, Marian Wright Edelman Institute, San Francisco
State University, 2009. Available online: http://familyproject.sfsu.edu/
files/FAP_English%20Booklet_pst.pdf
2
Gender Association of Colors
The artwork sprinkled throughout this month’s issue
of Point of View was created by 4 to 5-year-olds at the
Takoma Park Cooperative Nursery School in response to
Lesley Romanoff’s gender bending prompts.
T
he gender association of the colors pink and blue is
much discussed in early childhood education circles,
especially in reference to how toy retailers set up aisles—
awash in pinks and blues—as they divide up the dolls and
action figures and trucks. Clothing stores do the same
thing: Shades of yellow and
green become little pockets
of subversiveness.
Not surprisingly, this same
gender divide can be
found in classrooms from
seemingly invisible bits,
like teachers organizing
children’s portfolios using
pink and blue binders, to
very visible and actions
such as limiting dress-up
options and role-playing
opportunities for children,
and treating children
differently based on the
characteristics they do or do
not exhibit.
At Takoma Park Cooperative Nursery School, director
Lesley Romanoff attempts to break down these barriers
with careful and conscious language. “You can be a boy on
the inside and a girl on the outside, or a girl on the inside
and the outside, or a boy on the outside and a girl on the
inside, or you can be a boy on the inside and the outside.”
This conversation is an important one, and Lesley
described for us some of the many responses given by
the children. “Most frequently, children will carefully
consider the prompts and respond with their personal
take on who they feel they are. One child recently said, ‘I
am a boy on the inside and outside,’ while another, after
a considered pause, said, ‘I am a girl on the outside and I
have a boy on the inside waiting to get out.’”
The idea that pink is for girls and blue is for boys,
however, is not easily undone. Even after drawing
pictures using pinks and reds for the male figures, and
blues for the female, the pre-school children in Lesley’s
program—when looking at their own artwork several
days later—reverted to traditional gender definitions.
The girls drawn in blue, were now said to be boys, and
the boys drawn in pink were identified as girls. Despite
our best efforts, it is clear how stereotyping is so deeply
ingrained even in the very youngest among us. n
5
Listening Tools for
Building Confidence
about love, frustration, worry, guilt, exhaustion, and often a
sense of, “I’m alone with this! I don’t know where to turn.”
Whatever the feelings might be, the practice is to listen and to
trust the parent’s intelligence.
By Patty Wipfler
The human limbic system, the social-emotional center of
our being, seeks the safety of this kind of warm, supportive
attention from infancy onward. Our emotional well-being
and even our intellectual development hinge on finding that
attention. When we can talk to someone who truly listens, the
limbic system senses the safety that’s offered, and we begin
to instinctively release the emotional tension that weighs on
our confidence. For parents of traumatized children, there’s the
experience of rejection, worry about the rigidities their children
are caught in, and the sense that they are not getting their love
through to their child. The pain can be intense.
W
hen I first met three-year-old Byron, he clung to his
mother. They sat together in our playgroup, her shirt
gathered in his small fists, Byron absolutely unwilling to leave
her lap. He’d been adopted at the age of one from a poorly
resourced
orphanage
in another
country. For five
months, he’d
been attending
preschool, and
had not ventured
from his mom’s
lap once.
After six weeks
of once-a-week
playtimes with five other mom-and-child pairs at Hand In
Hand Parenting—an organization that utilizes play interaction
designed to enhance the parent-child connection—Byron
dared to run in and out of the room with the other children,
leaving his mother behind, amazed, and elated! He was
playing at last, and his mother’s confidence in her parenting
ability was growing, too. After two years spent having to hold
her son most of the time, she’d lost her sense of competence
as his mom. The breakthroughs came on both sides of their
relationship, and are still coming today, five years later.
Patty Wipfler
What helped? The five simple practices of Parenting
by Connection—Listening Partnership, Special Time,
Playlistening, Setting Limits, and Staylistening—collectively
known as Listening Tools. These Listening Tools are activities
that build connection and allow people of any age to heal from
hurt and trauma.
Parents and children are joined in a relationship system, and
healing takes place fastest when all members of the system
receive warm attention in the form of listening. Byron’s
transformation began when I engaged his mom in a Listening
Partnership, an exchange of respectful, caring attention from
one parent to another. Byron had experienced severe trauma
in the orphanage, and his mom faced what felt like failure
on a daily basis: failure to soothe her son, failure to boost his
confidence, failure to see him blossom despite the ample
sunshine of her love. She was up against some difficulties
that are often inherent to adoption, foster care, and trauma.
Emotional support for her was key to building his sense of
safety.
In a Listening Partnership, there’s an even exchange. One
parent talks while the other listens without interrupting. Then,
the parents trade the role of listener. There’s no advice, no
judgment, no analysis, and no gossip afterward. In this safe
environment, a parent’s story tumbles out. The listener hears
6
In her listening exchanges with me and with other moms in
our group, Byron’s mom could cry. Sometimes, laughter would
break through, too. She had a stockpile of feelings, and there
were traumas in her own past that had left her confidence
shaken. Being listened to provided great relief. She soon joined
my parent support group so she could continue to reduce the
backlog of hurt she’d been carrying. When we parents cry,
laugh, storm, tremble, and perspire as we talk about our own
memories and set out to connect with our loved ones, we
heal. We become—at last—more relaxed and more resilient
when situations require time, persistence, and creative
thinking to resolve.
Next, we employed Special Time, the use of small amounts
of time to build connection by telling a child you’ll follow his
lead in any kind of play he wishes. Special time is Parenting by
Connection’s foundational tool for building a child’s confidence.
Byron’s mom gave him 20 minutes of Special Time at the
start of each playgroup: she paid warm, loving attention
to him, and did whatever he wanted. Twenty minutes may
sound insignificant, but being trusted in this way, even for
short periods, is a real confidence-builder for children. And
with traumatized children, whose lives have been bulldozed
by experiences they could not understand or control, Special
Time is a lifesaver. It signals the child’s limbic system that he’s
finally safe and accepted, just as he is. The time limit helps the
parent to focus her full attention on her child, and because it
has a name, a start, and an end, the child is able to notice the
bounty of trust and attention coming toward him, magnifying
his sense of safety.
Still glued to his mom’s lap, Byron wanted to physically push
against her during Special Time. When she rocked back a few
inches, he laughed. This was the first little step on the road
to a sturdier connection between them. Laughter releases
stored fear, and plumps up the sense of connection, as long as
it’s not forced by tickling. What gets laughter going is a touch
of the unexpected, and often, a willing grown-up playing the
less powerful role. Rocking his mom backwards was a small
adventure in power that brought lots of laughter for Byron.
Over and over he pushed and she rocked backwards. Over and
over, Byron laughed and his eyes sparkled.
(cont. on page 15)
Director’s Corner
Considering Opening Your Child’s Adoption
and Getting Ready to Search
By Beth Hall
A
t Pact, we get many calls from families asking about
the possibility of connecting with their children’s birth
parents. When adoptive parents consider opening their child’s
adoption with one or more birth family members while that
child is still a minor, there are several critical factors that should
be taken into account.
Whose Story Is It?
When considering the possibility of connecting or
reconnecting with your minor child’s birth parents and/or
family, adoptive parents (and birth parents) must behave the
same way any responsible adults with children behave. Be
prepared to act out the necessary roles of guidance counselor,
emotion coach, executive assistant, detective, decisionmaker, and—always—chief cheerleader and fan of your child.
Ultimately, this is your child’s experience and narrative, and
any action your take as a parent must place your child’s needs
and feelings at the center of the experience. Nevertheless,
that doesn’t mean you won’t have feelings, including fears and
doubts, yourself.
The connection to birth family is an important part of an
adoptee’s narrative, and regardless the outcome of a search,
parents must remember it is eventually their right to know
everything you have found (and not found). You will therefore
need to determine the best time to tell your child everything
you know about her first family.
Whose Decision Is It?
We know from research and testimony of adult adopted
people, that closed adoption has not worked for most
adoptees. It is not unreasonable, then, to believe that
learning more about their birth families helps them feel more
connected to their fullest identity.
There are people (some adopted adults included) who believe
that adoptees should make search decisions, and adoptive
parents should hold back. But in my view, when children are
young—under 11, certainly, and even to some extent when
they are older but still minors—it is the adoptive parents’
job to make, guide, and safeguard all big decisions for them;
there is no reason the search for, and connection to, birth
family should be excluded. A caring parent should handle his
or her own fears and emotions, and make a plan in order to
prepare oneself and one’s child for expected (and unexpected)
outcomes.
Be careful if you find you’re tempted to think something might
be too hard to share. Many adoptive parents struggle with
having to tell their children painful truths, hoping that somehow
not telling will actually be easier for adopted children (people) in
the long run. The idea that the truth is somehow exempt from
being part of someone’s story because it is deemed too painful
or too difficult misses the point of what it means to be honest.
If we don’t teach children that they can handle challenges—
including their own painful histories—they will not grow their
own confidence muscles, which will ultimately help them
handle any and all painful truths as they grow older.
Should We Do It?
Keep in mind that adoption is confusing for adults and, perhaps
most especially, for those who were adopted; adoption was
a choice made for them rather than by them. Internationally
recognized adoption expert and child welfare advocate Dr.
Joyce Maguire Pavao, refers to this as the “normative crisis”
of adoption.1
It is not unusual for an adopted child to be bewildered about
who is his “real” mother, and perplexed regarding the hows
and whys of an experience as huge as being moved from
one family to another. Adoptive families and adoption as an
institution are often misunderstood, and there are almost
always aspects of placement that are not clear. It is because
of this that children benefit from having parents help them
process feelings and questions by supporting potentially
complicated birth family relationships, rather than leaving them
to handle their feelings or relationships on their own when
they become adults.
Children cannot be loved by too many people. Embracing the
fullness of who adopted and/or fostered children are, and
who they are becoming, necessitates recognition that it all
began with their birth parents—literally. Setting up an either/or
equation between birth and adoptive families creates a loyalty
test, one that ultimately leads to reduced closeness between
children and parents because of the impossible bind that being
in the middle places on the child.
Anticipating Outcomes
Like you, it is highly probable that your child’s first family is
going to have fears and uncertainty about a relationship with
your family and their child. And unlike you, they may not
have had the benefit of as much education about adoption
or open relationships as you have. Most often, birth parents
are terrified that you and their child will hate them for their
choices. A large majority are respectful of their child’s adoptive
Pavao’s book, The Family of Adoption, is available for purchase through
Pact.
1
(cont. on page 14)
7
Ask Pact
Sometimes, members of the Pact community step up and
educate all of us in brilliant ways. In this edition of Ask Pact,
Holly Fincke—transracial adoptive parent and sibling to a
transracially adopted sister—shares some great insights.
Fincke offers ideas on how to build bridges rather than walls
as we navigate complex conversations about race and racism
with people of color.
Q:
My family has been struggling to communicate
with the African-American principal and some of
the teachers at my daughter’s school. What I see as racial
bullying, they have characterized as par for the course and an
opportunity for my daughter to toughen up. I won’t go into
the details, but I wonder if you can give me advice for how
to advocate for my African-American daughter with AfricanAmerican adults when we don’t see eye to eye?
A:
It is very challenging for a white parent to have a
conversation with a person of color that pivots on a
disagreement about racism and what to do about it. I think
yours is an important question because IF we (transracial
adopters) involve our kids in situations—as we should—
where the leadership is people of color, we might have
disagreements, some of which might be about how to
address racism.
I agree with others on Pact’s listserv who have said there
should be a clear and even-handed official school policy, and
that your daughter deserved redress. But even within that
viewpoint, I think there are some big considerations in how to
approach a situation like this. I really applaud you for posting
this question and for seeking advice, and I feel for you and for
how agonizing this experience has been for your daughter.
This situation made me think in general terms about
guidelines white parents can use when discussing issues of
race, and I came up with some key things to do/ask in these
kinds of situations:
1. Center yourself on the absolute truth that we
are new to this.
The truth is that any person of color has years of his/her own
life, and several hundred years of their ancestors’ experience
dealing with racism. This doesn’t mean that a person in a
leadership position is right all the time, but it does mean we
need to find the bearing and tone within us to recognize that
fundamental truth and show respect for it. I have been in
situations where I have been outraged about racism in a way
that is different than where people of color are at with a given
situation. From life experience, they have had a different
assessment of the relative outrageousness of the racism at
hand. Often their plan of action has been different than what
I would think of—sometimes it’s more calibrated action, or
maybe it’s no action at all because something else is more
important. It’s complicated, but I think we have to appreciate
how new we are to this—how obvious that is—and that there
may be something to hear from people of color, even if their
8
positions seem completely unreasonable. I think of this as the
“lifelong learning” another parent referred to, which is based
in humbleness about what we actually don’t know.
People of color, because they often really care about our kids,
will want to teach us—and sometimes in pretty blunt ways—
about the tough world our kids are walking into, that most of
us white parents as “newbies” are slower to expose them to.
It’s hard and that might not be our agenda, but their caring is
a gift.
2. Investigate the context, be open to hearing
it, and know how narrow the needle might be
for the person of color you’re with whom you’re
working on this issue.
I was thinking this week about a 2008 article, “The Tightrope
and the Needle,” by Linda Burnham, founder of the Women
of Color Resource Center. She wrote about how Obama had
to thread “the very narrowest of needles” as an AfricanAmerican Presidential contender. There are many other
metaphors, but the gist is that many leaders of color —
unless they are part of an explicitly anti-racist institution—
have to be acutely aware of every single thing around them
in relationship to race and are threading that narrow needle,
particularly when it comes to speaking up about racism. In
this case, it could help to ask, is there something going on
at the school that could be affecting the principal’s reaction?
Perhaps your daughter’s situation would force the principal to
confront parents who have been racist and have challenged
the principal’s own legitimacy as a leader.
At my daughter’s school, for instance, there was a real
critique of the African-American principal last year by white
parents and some bruising meetings. Some criticisms were
perhaps legitimate. But others were very disrespectful and
clearly reflective of white privilege. That kind of experience
has a great impact on how a person of color threads that
needle generally and specifically with individuals who they
know are not allies.
Finding out about, and being open to hearing, the overall
context the leader of color is dealing with in an institution,
even as our first priority is our kids, can be really important as
we advocate. If we know this and engage in a discussion, we
can be allies in helping figure a way around it.
3. Know that no adult of color HAS to do
anything about racism in any particular
instance, and that adults of color have to make
choices ALL the time. Our kids will, too.
Given number two above, and the very real constraints adults
of color are working within, even wonderful people can’t
always do the best thing in every instance, and they have to
make choices. For example, my daughter previously went to a
school where there was one African-American vice principal.
The principal was white and was not very conscious about
racism as were most of the teaching staff. I think the only
other African-American on campus was a PE instructor. Many
parents of children of color turned to the vice principal, who,
I would venture to say, made choices ALL the time about
which situations to surface with the principal and the staff.
Sadly, there are literally not enough hours in a day or enough
human energy to do otherwise.
4. Be real about the racial dynamic and organize
around it.
I think most people of color appreciate straight talk from
white people, including acknowledgment of the racial
dynamic, our own limitations, and honest efforts to deal with
it. It might be helpful to meet with the principal along with
an adult of color who is close to the child; in this situation
another white adult is less likely to be helpful. The message
to the principal could be, “This friend has had a longtime
relationship with my child and is concerned. I think she/
he is good at sifting things out, can help me understand
your position and what you’re saying about this, since we
both know—going into this meeting— that we’re kind of at
loggerheads.” Letting your friend know that its OK to not to
be on “your” side once hearing from the principal would be
important to the success of this approach.
The stance of openness, honesty, and the offering of a
real resource of someone who could help de-escalate and
move to a solution. I don’t mean to suggest that we rely
on people of color for help rather than doing our own work.
But we sometimes find ourselves in moments where we
need specific kinds of support and it does matter who the
intermediary or messenger is. And it goes without saying,
and as Pact reminds us, that we need those authentic
relationships if we don’t have them now.
5. Ask yourself, have you been on ally on racism,
particularly, but not only, within the system
your kid is in?
As always, we have to ask ourselves whether we are working
for racial justice, beyond the issues that immediately affect
our children. If we do this, people of color come to know
us not just as white parents trying to get the best for our
individual children from a privileged position, but also as
people who care about the broader community. We also learn
and build skills to address racism because we’re exercising
that muscle. But best of all and most importantly, we can
fundamentally change the systems our kids will encounter
throughout their lifetimes, the cultural messages they receive
about their worth, and the world they will inherit. n
Teen
Corner
T
his past April, our Teen and Tween Club members spent
some time brainstorming their thoughts, attitudes,
and feelings as they pertain to race. Through a variety of
exercises, the kids made a list of what race means to them,
saying (among other things)
that it’s a social construct,
it’s how you people identify
themselves, and it’s a way
to keep people divided or
united. They shared the many
ways they identify at home:
as a son or daughter, as Black
or Blaxican, as transracial,
as adopted. One child even
identified as “the little Asian
kid.” Their identifications at
school were further varied,
with kids using terms such
as adopted, cisgender, boy straight, Black girl and dyslexic
to define themselves. They also tackled the role race plays
in their friendships, as well as the emotions that arise from
discussions about race.
This is big stuff and these kids have lots of ideas about it,
so it should come as little surprise that their many answers
could not fit in this space. But the dialogue following these
exercises was lively and from it grew an Adopted Person’s
Bill of Rights, as well as Twelve Things We Wish Everyone
Knew About Race.
The facilitators (mostly adoptees themselves) reported that,
“They were so happy to be discussing these things they had
in common, such as, ‘Has anyone ever asked you how you
were born? How stupid is that?!’ and ‘Yeah, yeah, totally!
Have you ever got the, “But who is your real brother”?’ It
was truly beautiful, and the Bill of Rights they produced is
amazing.”
The youth themselves said: “We felt that we went over what
schools and society don’t like to talk about, and it makes us
feel like we can address not all but some facts about racism,
adoption, and stereotypes together,” and, “It was really cool.
We got to talk about stuff we never get to talk about, and we
felt comfortable doing it because we have each other.”
We present their work here.
Adopted Person’s Bill of Rights
As adopted people we have a right...
1. To play any game.
2. To keep our identity as an adoptee confidential.
3. To say no to answering questions.
(cont. on page 16)
9
Ask a First/Birth Mother
Ask A First/Birth Mother provides a forum for adoptive
parents to ask the things they fear to ask, so that they can
more competently address the complexities of adoption for
the benefit of the children they are parenting. Susan chooses
to use the term “first/birth mother” as a way of honoring two
ways in which women who have placed children in adoption
describe themselves. If you have a question you would like to
see addressed, please send it to the attention of Ask A First/
Birth Mother at info@pactadopt.org.
Q:
We have never met our five-year-old son’s birth father
and based on what the birth mother says, we doubt
he wants to be involved. We have a good relationship with the
birth mother…is that enough? Or should we be doing more to
reach out to the birth father as well?
A:
Thank you for asking this important question and
for being interested in the experiences of first/
birth fathers, and their role in the lives of adopted people. I
personally prefer the term “first” but many still use the term
“birth” and it continues to be more widely recognized. Since
repeated use of first/birth can make for a cumbersome read, I
will use “first” throughout the remainder of the column.
So often, the focus in adoption is on the relationship with
the first mother, and perhaps her extended family. Adoptive
parents seem to resign themselves—and therefore their
children—to what may at first appear to be a closed door
when it comes to the other half of their child’s family, history,
and legacy. While adopted people may have very different
feelings about their first fathers, I would encourage you to
assume that your son’s first father is, or will someday be, just
as important a presence in the mind of your child as his first
mother. Operate with this as the default until your child lets
you know otherwise or can make his own decisions about
the role of his first father in his life.
First fathers have been in the news more than ever recently,
largely due to the high-profile case of Dusten Brown who
was embroiled in a years-long custody battle over his
daughter, Veronica. Dusten never wanted to place Veronica
for adoption and he found himself, through a series of legal
maneuvers by the adoptive parents, losing custody despite
being a fit parent who wanted to raise his daughter (see
tulsaworld.com and indiancountrytodaymedianetwork.com
for a detailed background on Adoptive Couple vs. Baby Girl).
The case was additionally complex in that the Indian Child
Welfare Act (ICWA) should have applied to Veronica, whose
father is a member of the Cherokee nation. A federal law
passed in 1978 to protect and preserve Indian tribes, ICWA
establishes an “Indian preference” for adoptive parents so that
children can be raised within their culture. ICWA was passed in
response to an “alarmingly high percentage of Indian families
in comparison to the general population” whose children
were removed by non-tribal agencies (nicwa.org). In this case,
Veronica was placed with a Caucasian family.
10
Although Dusten does not appear to identify as a first father,
but rather a father whose child has been removed (or stolen
or kidnapped?) from him, I am referring to his situation
because it illustrates two important issues.
First, it demonstrates that sometimes the father is not
even aware he has a child, or that his child will be placed
for adoption. In Dusten’s case, he stated that he did not
realize paperwork the first mother sent him was intended
to terminate his parental rights so that she could place
Veronica. First mothers cannot be forced to disclose the
identity of the father, and therefore a father who might have
wished to parent may not even be given that chance. Laws
vary from state to state, but the outcome is that there are
many scenarios where a first father may not be given an
opportunity to consent to, or contest, an adoption.
There is a range of situations in which a first mother would
be unable to disclose, or feel justified in not disclosing, the
identity of the first father. Some examples are cases of
rape; one-time sexual encounters without the exchange of
identifying information; a belief that the father would not be
a fit parent; a relationship has ended with difficult feelings; or
when a woman simply decides that adoption is what’s right
for her child, and she does not want the father to intervene or
contest it. I could also speculate as to the emotional factors
underlying such a justification—fear, shame, and guilt come
to mind.
In general, a woman experiencing an unplanned pregnancy
may be trying to get through with minimal stress and drama,
and may decide that excluding the father is what’s best for
her. My first mother, for example, did not choose to share
the identity of my first father with the adoption agency for
her own complex reasons. He was not even aware of my
existence until I was six months old, with a finalized adoption,
when he returned from army deployment and she showed
him a photograph of me saying: “This is our child.”
The second issue the Dusten Brown case illustrates is the
importance of the heritage, legacy, and history that comes
from the first father. In Dusten’s case, a federal law already
existed that acknowledged the importance of making a
serious attempt to ensure that Native American children are
raised within their culture. An adopted person may or may
not identify strongly with one or both first family heritages,
but having access is crucial. Even if the first father is not
interested in being involved, adoptive parents should be
making attempts to ensure that their child is able to access
his history, which cannot exclude that of the first father to
truly be accurate and integrated. Especially in circumstances
where a child’s first parents have different racial identities,
or hold different pieces of cultural history (language, religion,
regional, etc.), your child may feel a strong need to explore
and identify with his first father and family. For example,
a biracial child whose first father is African-American may
only be able to get that sense of identity and connectedness
from that family, if her first mother is not African-American.
Adopted people want to know about both first parents, so
although research shows that a search and reunion often
begins with first mothers, it will usually expand to include
fathers as well.
While it is important to acknowledge the possibility that first
fathers may not have been made aware of their children,
what seems to be more common is that they are indeed
aware. And, like all fathers, there is a huge range in terms
of their readiness and ability to be a parent, as well as their
understanding of what their child is likely to need from
them, now and in the future. I know first mothers who refer
to the first father as the “sperm donor,” as they feel that
most accurately captures the extent of his involvement. I
also know first mothers—myself included—who were and
continue to be supported every step of the way by their
child’s first father, and who want him to have equal access
to and involvement with their child. I know some first fathers
who want nothing more than to be a positive influence
and role model in their child’s life, and I know of some first
fathers who are avoiding any and all responsibility, and are
emotionally and practically unavailable for a relationship.
All of that said, it is important to remember that people can
change. In the situation you describe, it sounds like there is a
perception that the first father may not wish to be involved,
and that may be the case. It may be accurate that he is
currently uninterested in a relationship with your child. But it
sounds like you do not actually know what his perspective
is, and are basing your assumption on what the first mother
or adoption agency is saying. I would suggest that your
role in this situation is to discover for yourself what kind of
relationship the first father is available for, while remembering
that this may not be a permanent state. Emotional maturity
and life circumstances change over time, so stay open to the
possibility that even if he is not available now, he might be in
the future.
speak for him, what I observed in my daughter’s first father
was a sense of obligation, duty, and cautious affection for her
while I was pregnant, followed by an intense, profound sense
of love and connectedness with her when she was born. It
was almost as if he experienced the fatherhood hormones in
one sudden release when she was born, whereas I had nine
months to bond and feel my motherhood.
This is all to say that your child’s first father may not even
know that he matters, or that he has the right to care about
his child, or that he is an important and valuable person in
his life. While it is not your job to single-handedly educate
or support him, I would venture that you could have quite
a bit of influence in this arena, and that it would be a good
use of your influence—and in your child’s best interest—to
nurture a sense of connectedness. It is in your child’s interest
to feel loved and accepted by his first father…so tell him
what an amazing child you share! Let him know what shared
characteristics and qualities you see in your child, whether it
be in his beautiful brown eyes, his math skills, or his love of
the outdoors. Let him know that adopted people DO think
about their first fathers, and that he CAN have an important
role in his child’s life. Contact Pact for additional materials
and articles on the perspectives of first fathers, and on what
adopted people need from their first parents, and send him
that information, along with a big stack of photos and a
heartfelt update on all the wonderful things you see in your/
his child.
May this be in service of our own growth and the well-being
of all our children. n
*Pact knows how important language is and we honor the
terms “first” and “birth” as they pertain to mothers and
fathers whose children have been adopted.
Remember too, that he may not realize just how important
he could be in the life of your shared child. There is obviously
a long history of first mothers being conditioned to believe
that they play only a bit part of the life of their child, giving
first and then moving on. First mothers typically receive
only minimal information about the psychology and needs of
adopted people, and are very surprised to find out how much
of a presence they have in the minds of their children.
First fathers, if they are even able to access pre- and postplacement services, probably find it even more challenging
to understand just how important they might be, especially
since they are often stereotyped as completely absent,
negligent, self-centered, or the main reason first mothers
chose adoption. Even among expectant couples who are
planning to parent, the partner who is not pregnant may have
difficulty feeling bonded and connected to the child until s/
he is born, when suddenly this flood of protective, parental
feelings kicks in. So, when an expectant couple decides to
place, the father may only have a few days of feeling that
sense of fatherhood, of protector, of parent. Although I can’t
11
BOOK REVIEW
Born From the Heart
By Berta Serrano
Illustrated by Alfonso Serrano
(Sterling Children’s Books, 2013)
Reviewed by Marie-Claude Provencher with the help of
her 12-year-old son, Clovis Choquette, who happens to
be adopted.
B
orn From the Heart describes the journey of a straight
couple—with particular focus on the woman—as they
try to start a family. The illustrations are beautiful and unusual
with the main characters drawn in long, whimsical lines, in
nice soothing colors. And
the story begins with the
pre-adoptive mother, Rose,
explaining that her dream had
always been to have a family.
All good so far.
But the story starts getting
weird when the couple goes
to the doctor who tells them
to take a potion made of love, enthusiasm, and patience so
they can have a baby. She takes the potion (her husband
does not) and she starts feeling something beating inside
her chest. Her child is growing in her heart! The doctor
confirms this, and her heart starts getting bigger as the child
is growing in it—a clear analogy to a pregnancy.
Rose goes to
a “growing
hearts”
maternity
store to get
new clothes
that fit
properly, and
a sleeping
pillow for
her “heartshapedAuthors Marie-Claude Provencher and her son
Clovis Choquette.
pregnancy.”
When the
phone rings to tell her it is time for the baby to arrive, Rose
is depicted practicing deep breathing. Rose and her husband
Charlie take a plane, get on a boat (is the boat driver wearing
a Chinese-looking hat?), and ride on a donkey before finally
arriving at a house with an open door. Inside the house Rose
gives birth from her heart, among rainbows and laughter.
Then, shown in a birthing position, she hugs her new baby.
The end.
After reading the book, I was left with a feeling of
uneasiness. Why compare an adoption to a pregnancy? Why
not also have the adoptive dad “pregnant from the heart”?
Why ignore the birth family? I wondered: is she trying to
12
replace the birth mother/family? At the very least, equating
the experience of an adoptive parent with that of a birth
parent—in particular, a birth mother— is disrespectful to the
dual connections that adopted people live with.
I asked one of my local adoption experts, my son Clovis, to
read this book and tell me his opinion. His response kind of
says it all: “This book is not a book on adoption because it
does not show an adoption. It does not show a child going
from one family to another; the relinquishment part of the
adoption. It shows the birth of a child out of a mother’s heart.
Not an adoption. And really, mom, kids are not born among
rainbows and laughter...”
Of course he was right. This book isn’t about the experience
of an adoptee and in fact, it seems overwhelmingly focused
on the needs of adoptive-parents.
Unfortunately, the book does not tell the story of the child’s
birth family, nor does it tell the story of the adopted child.
Furthermore, the story does a disservice to those of us
adoptive parents who are working hard to ensure that our
children feel confident and competent to honor their full
selves, and not just that part of them born in our dreams or
fantasies about parenthood. Isn’t this exactly what many adult
adoptees tell us? Being asked to fulfill their parent’s fantasy
of a child born to them, is like being asked to be someone
different that who you are. It is the ultimate rejection of the
person they actually are: a unique blend of their birth and
adoptive heritage.
The author writes in her end-of-book notes that this book
was prompted by the distress and grief her son had when he
realized for the first time that he was not her biological son.
She writes:
“As a mom, I wanted an immediate solution, the
magical action that would forever take his pain away.
But all I could do was embrace him, contain his pain
with my love, and be present to talk about anything he
wanted.”
The thing is, there is no immediate solution or magical
action, and though her intentions might have been good, this
“love letter to her son,” as she calls it, seems like a clumsy
response. It really only validates the adoptive parents’ point
of view while ignoring the reasons for such distress and grief,
perhaps even making it more difficult for a child to talk about
that pain. I can only imagine the confusion it would cause to
young readers who don’t know much about adoption or, more
pertinently, to those who are adopted themselves, those who
would be left to assume that they were created to fulfill a
rainbow-and-heart-filled fantasy of their parents, essentially
unrelated to who they actually are.
While Serrano probably meant well, the metaphorical vehicle
she chose isn’t likely to encourage an honest dialogue about
adoption. Even though the illustrations are pretty, I can not
recommend this book to anyone. Because—in the words
of my son— this book is not a book on adoption, because it
does not show the real truth about any adoption. n
BOOK REVIEW
Black Stats
African Americans by the Numbers in the
Twenty-First Century
By Monique W. Morris
(The New Press, Perseus Books © 2014)
Black Stats is available for purchase through Pact’s Bookstore:
www.store.pactadopt.org
Reviewed by Beth Hall
M
onique Morris wrote Black Stats:
African Americans by the Numbers
in the Twenty-First Century to compile
an easy reference of contemporary
information to help inform conversations
about Black America’s current condition.
Morris covers are a wide swath of topics
including demographics of where African
American’s live to cultural, economic,
and educational myths.
Black Stats is an essential reference for anyone who wants to
check their facts about the African American population in 2014.
With fascinating and often surprising information on everything
from incarceration rates, lending practices, and the arts, to
marriage, voting habits, and green jobs, the contextualized
material in this book will better attune readers to telling trends
while challenging commonly held—yet often misguided—
perceptions.
A compilation that at once highlights measures of incredible
progress and enumerates the disparate impacts of social
policies and practices, this book is a critical tool for advocates,
educators, and policy makers. Black Stats offers indispensable
information that is sure to enlighten discussions and provoke
debates about the quality of Black life in the United States
today—and help chart the path to a better future.
A few stats of note:
1. Approximately half of the Black population in the United
States lives in neighborhoods that have no white residents.
2. In the five years before the Great Recession, the number
of Black-owned businesses in the United States increased
by 61 percent.
3. A 2010 study found that 41 percent of Black youth feel that
rap music videos should be more political.
4. There are no Black owners or presidents of an NFL franchise team.
5. 78 percent of Black Americans live within 30 miles of a
coal-fired power plant, compared with 56 percent of white
Americans.
6. Black women account for 32% of TANF (welfare), recipients making the destructive stereotype of the African
American welfare “queen” untrue (in fact 62% of welfare
recipients are white or Hispanic).
7. 83% of African American students have their homework
checked at home compared to 57% of white students
and 59% of Asian students—a statistic that is often
called an indicator of family support for higher education.
8. The oft-quoted lore that there are more Black men in
prison than in college is shown to be inaccurate; in fact,
there are 600,000 more black men in American colleges
than in American prisons.
African Americans are often the subjects of memes that
do little more than caricature their life experiences for
public consumption. The kinds of statistics and accurate
demographics presented in this book are important for all
families and professionals looking to ensure racial equity,
and to assess our progress (and lack thereof) regarding
opportunity and reality for African Americans.
Ms. Morris holds the academic and research worlds
accountable for the nature of the statistics we have, as
well as those we don’t, something outlined by Khalil Gibran
Muhammad in his introduction to Black Stats:
Du Bois learned a hard lesson that numbers never
speak for themselves. Statistics are only an artifact
of the power to shape questions we think are worth
asking. They are meaningful only in relationship to how
we interpret them in light of the public policies we seek
to enact[….]
Data are not produced in a vacuum. Why, for example,
is there no national database of police brutality? How
come the Philadelphia police department does not
know how many Italian Americans committed armed
robbery last year? The former has never been measured
and the latter we stopped collecting in the 1930s….
Quantitative evidence of racial disparity never proved
racism on its own in Du Bois’s day any more than it
does in our won. Monique W. Morris’s Black Stats
notes that Black youth make up 16 percent of public
K-12 students and 9 percent of private school students
but make up 35 percent of those who are suspended
from school. This would seem an outrage and surely
evidence that something is terribly wrong in how
Black children are treated by teachers, of whom only 7
percent nationwide are Black. And yet it all depends on
what you believe about the hearts and minds of White
teachers, the quality of Black parenting, and the role
racism plays in shaping social outcomes today….
Statistics will often tell an incomplete story at best or
an outright falsehood at worst. They cannot change
the world on their own. Beliefs are far more powerful
than numbers…[w]hat we do with the information,
what we say about it, the stories we tell from it, and
the movements we launch because of it are our way
forward.
Bravo to Ms. Morris. This book should be on the bookshelf
in every school, every library and in the home of every family
that cares about the well-being of Black children and families
in America. n
13
Director’s Corner (cont. from page 7)
parents because they can see how well their child is doing
under their care, something they wish they had been able to
do themselves. They are often enormously grateful, even if
they also harbor feelings of regret or shame about their own
choices. Additionally, they understand that access to their
child is something you control, which makes them likely to be
cautious and careful about your feelings and desires.
Sometimes adoptive parents, whose children have been
harmed physically or otherwise by their birth parents or
other family members, do not feel particularly grateful or
kindly towards the people who hurt the child they now
love. Research2 demonstrates that self-esteem in adopted
people is directly linked to the respect and acknowledgement
given to their birth parents and birth heritage by the caring
adults in their lives. In addition, a significant number of
adopted and fostered people seek to reunite with their first
families, including members that harmed them when they
were younger. Adoptive parents need to help their children
prepare for those relationships so they will be able to stay
safe, especially if their birth parents/family members engage
in unsafe behaviors. And remember, even people with the
worst of problems have some redeeming qualities that can
be valued even if their behaviors are problematic.
Explore possibilities for search that include your child’s birth
parents, as well as other siblings and/or extended family
members. Be creative in your search, recognizing that you
may find new information or surprising outcomes different
than what you previously knew. It’s important that parents
have a chance to digest information and figure out the best
way to share it with their kids, which is further reasoning for
parents of younger children to begin the search themselves.
Using an intermediary who has experience working with birth
families is often critical. Birth parents or family members
are sometimes reluctant to consider a relationship because
of their own fears. Being found can feel like a surprise that
for some is frightening, particularly if a birth parent hasn’t
fully processed his or her own feelings about the placement
to begin with. Other times, birth family members will be
told about a child they didn’t know about, which can feel
like a betrayal or raise questions about the relationship they
thought they had with your child’s birth mother or father.
An intermediary gives the birth family a trusted confidant
to whom they can address questions and also express their
own fears without burdening you or their child with their first
reactions, and it allows them time for a more considered and
possibly more generous secondary reaction. Human beings
often do better when we have time to process our feelings.
If you know that there are likely to be cultural, class, or
familial differences between adoptive and birth families, you
can also be preparing your child by encouraging opportunities
for her to interact with others who share her birth family’s
Being Adopted, The Lifelong Search for Self by David Brodzinsky et al.
is available for purchase through Pact.
2
14
culture, class, or family structure. This will allow the child to
see that the way her birth family acts is not unique to them,
and is not uncommon among people who share their culture
or class. Similarly, if you know your child’s birth parents or
family members have particular challenges, you can frontload
your child’s experiences so that they are familiar with and will
recognize some of the behaviors and attitudes they are likely
to observe among their first family members.
Completing the Search Itself
Families must often reconstruct information to find their
child’s birth family members. If you have a full name, social
security number, and birth date, you are almost certain to be
able to find a person (presuming they are a US citizen). If you
have less information, involving a professional searcher or
private investigator will help.
Good record keeping cannot be over emphasized. Keep
detailed records of everything you have done to prepare
and find your child’s first family. Whether or not you are
successful, eventually you will share everything with your
child and he will appreciate each detail as evidence of your
support in his own journey of identity. If you do find his birth
parents or other family members, speak to the adults first and
get help if you need it to clarify your expectations. Then work
together to plan how and when to tell your child the news,
and begin to explore a relationship between them.
I suggest creating a series of pictures and an introduction
to your family that includes your motivation for searching, a
brief description of their child, including reassurance about
their personality and life, and a suggested next step for
communication. If there are particular pieces of information,
desired facts, or pictures that the birth family might have,
and that you know are important to your child, ask for those
in this first communication. If you are using an intermediary
or advisor, they can deliver this first communication on your
behalf, and help you determine your next steps, while helping
you feel safe and positive about your ongoing plans together.
Remember, it is normal for children and adults to approach
new relationships—especially those of great importance—
with both enthusiasm and fear at the same time. Give your
child control and information in a supportive way, but always
keep in mind that part of what you are showing them is that
they can handle having two families and that you will support
them, stay connected, and be their parent—no matter what. n
Listening Tools (cont. from page 6)
After Special Time, I came to “listen” in play, and Byron
began rocking his mom again. Every time they bounced
back from rocking, I responded with surprise and delight.
That brought more laughter. This third practice is called
Playlistening. With this tool, the grown-up intentionally
promotes laughter in play, and several grown-ups, or several
children, can be included. With this Listening Tool, a parent
or ally simply notices what brings laughter, and does it again
and again. Laughter releases tension, builds connection, and
is often a gateway to healing entrenched hurt—the hurt that
results from traumatic experience.
After some weeks of Playlistening in our group, Byron had
briefly left his mother’s lap to play with me, but he was
still lap-bound most of the time. He still ignored the other
children. We had built his confidence, and now his mom
wanted to offer him the challenge of separating more
consciously from her.
Setting Limits, the fourth practice, is a vital Listening Tool.
In order for limit-setting to heal trauma and benefit the child,
a trusting relationship must be in place. The parent (or other
trusted adult) needs to have shown the child that she isn’t
urgent to change the child’s behavior, and that the child’s
rigidities aren’t driving her nuts. Listening Partnerships are a
crucial outlet for such frustrations.
Byron’s mom held him in her arms, told him that she was
going to sit three feet away from him for just five minutes,
and assured him that I would be with him the whole time. He
cried hard in protest. We listened. He perspired. He trembled.
He kicked and clung. Still, she held him and when he calmed
down, she patted the floor and said again, “Byron, I’m going
to go over here. You’ll be safe,” so he could release more
feelings. That day, she simply proposed this move, and let
him respond in her arms. This is the safest possible situation
for a traumatized child—or any child—to heal fears about
separation. They think about the prospect, and as a child’s
fears pour out, the parent’s confidence and love pour in to
heal the wound.
While a child is crying or thrashing with the vigorous fight-orflight response to fear, it doesn’t look like they’re receiving
your love and attention at all. Every time they dare to
glance up and see your loving countenance, the safety of
your attention escalates their loud, frantic release of stored
feelings of fear. It’s your job to receive the news of how
frightening it was, once upon a time in your child’s life. Your
child is scrubbing out the terror he has to manage every
minute of every day. If you can support your child through his
emotional episode until the feelings subside, his rigidities will
loosen up. He’ll feel more connected to you, and will show
you—through eye contact, affection, insightful thoughts, or
more relaxed behavior—that he’s less frightened now. We
call this Staylistening, the final Listening Tool. After just a
few short-but-intense cries like this, Byron could jump out
of his mom’s lap and run with the other children in play. His
fears were finally healing!
At eight, Byron is still having big, fighting cries pretty
regularly. He still feels unloved on occasion, and is still
making sense of the deep isolation he must have suffered
as an infant. But he does well in school and with friends. His
mom continues to use Listening Partnerships to forward her
own healing, and to help her keep reaching for her son when
he walls himself off. He continues to tell her how life looks
to him in ways that are sometimes painful for her to hear.
But Byron and his mom both have their emotional projects,
and they both have tools they now use to keep loosening
the bonds of trauma, to keep their love flowing strongly, and
to build their confidence, chuckle-by-chuckle and cry by cry.
Using Listening Tools, they are strengthening their connection
and Byron is learning to trust not only his mom, but also
others around him, and probably most importantly, he is
learning to trust himself. n
Patty Wipfler founded the non-profit Parents Leadership Institute
in 1989, which evolved into Hand in Hand Parenting. As Director,
she has written 14 booklets, produced videotapes and audiotapes,
and has written over 100 articles on the principles and benefits
of Parenting by Connection. To date, Hand in Hand has sold over
500,000 of these booklets in English, Spanish, Chinese, and Japanese.
Sadness in Adoption (cont. from page 3)
is not necessarily a bad life. After talking to Beth Hall about
the case, my client and I talked about how people learn to
take care of themselves in environments that may seem
overwhelmingly difficult to people who live someplace else.
We talked about the tornados that sometimes come to
central Ohio and how we practice being safe when the test
sirens go off. We also discussed how people in other states
without heavy storms may not understand what it’s like to
live through an Ohio spring; how they might worry about us
more than we worry about ourselves.
Of course, we also talked about my client’s birth mom. We
talked about how anger and sadness and love and joy can
be all mixed up in adoption, and how missing his birth mom
and loving her doesn’t mean he can’t also feel angry that she
let him go. We talked about how adoption is confusing and
sometimes it’s hard to make sense of it all. We talked about
how the grown-ups are doing the best they can to make good
decisions for the kids, and how the kids get to have their own
opinions about those decisions.
The journey of adoption is an ongoing one. For now, books
about my client’s country and videos from YouTube are enough
to calm his fears. But he will need more complex answers as
he grows. I encouraged his parents to keep the conversation
going, to check in even when he seems disinterested, and
to do their own research during down times (when adoption
seems less pressing), so that they are prepared when their son
comes to them with more questions. n
* All identifying information has been changed to protect the
confidentiality of the child in this essay.
Dawn Friedman, MSEd, LPC, is a counselor and writer in
Columbus Ohio. You can learn more about her at her website: www.
BuildingFamilyCounseling.com
15
Teen Corner (cont. from pg. 9)
4. To keep our stories private.
18.Yes, we might not resemble our adopted families.
5. To stand up for you.
19.No, we don’t always want to explain.
6. To refuse unneeded sympathy. We get tired of hearing
people say, “Oh, I’m so sorry that you’re adopted.” And
what is so bad about being adopted? Why should we
have to feel bad?
20.To call our adopted families our “REAL” families.
7. To not be influenced by other’s feelings about adoption.
8. To have our original birth certificates.
9. To not explain our stories if we don’t feel like it. We have
the right to keep our stories private. I don’t have to tell
you why or how I was adopted if I don’t want to.
21.To have adoption be known, taught, and discussed in
education and media. Family structure, like adoption,
affects everyone and should be taught in schools and
in the wider media. We shouldn’t always have to do the
educating about adoption. Others can do the educating,
so that we don’t always have to be the ones explaining.
22.To not have to do ancestors/family tree/personal history
school projects.
11.To know our past and create our own futures.
Twelve Things We Wish Everyone
Knew About Race
12.To be able to “tell off” anyone who makes assumptions.
1. That race doesn’t decide how people speak.
13.To not have movies define us. We are not all “orphans”
or “door step babies.”
2. Race doesn’t define who you are…and we still have to
be aware of systems of oppression.
14.To not be treated as “less than” non-adoptees. We have
families. We are equal!
15.To not be treated as aliens—we went through the same
birth process as non-adoptees!
3. Race shouldn’t decide what you can’t do. “People have
been telling me forever that I can’t dance because I’m
Asian, but I’ve been dancing since I was five years old.
And I’m good at it. So I’m going to keep doing it.”
16.To not answer stupid questions.
4. Judge people by who they are, not their appearance.
17.Yes, we are adopted.
5. RACISM STILL EXISTS.
10.To not always have to be grateful for our adoption.
6. Racism (prejudice plus power) and prejudice (pre-judging) are two different things.
7. Ethnocentrism is the problem because people think their
way is the only way.
8. Be an ally:
• Be a friend/person who helps someone in a time of
need.
• Stand with someone so they don’t have to stand alone.
9. Be Inclusive.
10.Show kindness.
11.Bring positivity.
12.Be the light in the darkness. n
WE INVITE YOU TO BECOME A PACT MEMBER TODAY!
Go to www.pactadopt.org/membership/join.asp
Pact, an Adoption Alliance
5515 Doyle St, Suite 1
Emeryville, CA 94608
Voice: 510-243-9460
Fax: 510-243-9970
www.pactadopt.org
info@pactadopt.org
Charlotte Aaron
Office Administrator
Lisa Kelly
Youth Coordinator
Guillermo Torres
Youth Coordinator
David Berwick
Development & Website
Administrator
Deanna Matthews
Education Specialist &
Pact Family Camp Director
Katie Wynen
Pre-Placement Adoption Specialist
Pact
Attallah Hill
Bookkeeper
Kim Olenic
Transracial Adoption Specialist
Beth Hall
Founder and Director
Marsha Hiller
Transracial Adoption Specialist
Malaika Parker
Family of Color Specialist
Susan Ito
Michele Rabkin
Chair, Adult Adoptee Advisory Board Communication Specialist
16
Point of View
Beth Hall
Editorial Director
Aaryn Belfer
Editor
Margaret Copeland
Graphic Designer

point of view - Pact, An Adoption Alliance

Transcription

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