Olivia Atkocaitis ist nicht nur eine Boulevard-Schlagzeile

von Maya Xian Hewitt, von China nach Großbritannien adoptiert.

Ich bin sicher, dass die meisten, die dies lesen, die „Geschichte“ von Olivia Atkocaitis kennen und verstehen werden.
Ich bin mir sicher, dass es Emotionen und Gefühle ausgelöst hat, die zu schwer und schwer zu überdenken und zu verarbeiten sind. Oder in den Köpfen anderer Menschen ist es vielleicht viel zu weit von ihrer Realität und ihren Adoptionserfahrungen entfernt, um es überhaupt in Betracht zu ziehen. Ich weiß, dass ich, als Lynelle mich um diesen Artikel bat, wirklich nicht die emotionale Kapazität hatte, mich hinzusetzen und darüber nachzudenken, geschweige denn, darüber zu schreiben. Aber mir wurde klar, dass sie nicht um einen Nachrichtenbericht gebeten hatte, und die Schlagzeilen, wie bereits erwähnt, reichen aus, um die Schwere dessen zu verstehen, was Olivia durchgemacht hat, und es ist nicht nur eine Geschichte für sie, es ist ihr Leben. Als internationale Adoptierte werden das Gesamtbild und der Aufruf, unsere Stimme zu erheben, immer wichtiger, denn schauen Sie sich an, wer diese Erzählung verbreitet, sehen Sie sich an, wie diese „Geschichten“ überschrieben werden. Unsere Stimmen, unsere Erfahrungen, unsere Erzählungen verdienen es mehr, als nur Teil einer Boulevardgeschichte zu sein, die sich astronomisch als One-Hit-Wonder verkaufen wird. Und die Aufmerksamkeit, die diese Geschichten bekommen, provoziert die falschen Fragen und lenkt die Empörung auf die mikroskopische Linse der Spezifität, die diese Boulevardartikel bieten.

Das Problem mit Sensationsgier im Journalismus ist, dass es nicht nur an Genauigkeit, Präzision und Details mangelt, sondern aus einem größeren Bild extrapoliert, eine Geschichte aus dem größeren Kontext nimmt und sie so weit hergeholt erscheinen lässt, dass sie fast zu einer wird -Hit Wonder im Sinne einer Nachrichtenmeldung. Und ähnlich wie die Künstler, die mit ihrer eingängigen Melodie berühmt wurden, sind sie unvergesslich, sie tauchen gelegentlich wieder auf, um Luft zu holen, und dann werden sie zu einer Haushaltsnotiz für „wo sind sie jetzt“. Die Natur der Adoption ist transaktional und ich habe ausführlich über das Thema geschrieben, aber bei jedem Journalisten, dem ich begegnet bin, um mich nach meinen Erfahrungen zu fragen, sei es meine Wiederverbindung mit meinem Geburtsland, die Suche nach meiner biologischen Familie, meine Erfahrungen als Britisch-Chinesen im Vereinigten Königreich, sie haben nie eine finanzielle Entschädigung für meine emotionale Arbeit angeboten, und sie wollen die Authentizität nicht hören, sie wollen eine Nachricht. Und so beschloss ich 2018, dass niemand meine Erzählung für mich schreiben würde, ich bin durchaus in der Lage, meine eigene zu schreiben.

Aufrufe zum Handeln, Aufrufe zum Zorn, Aufrufe, um die Fehler des Adoptionssystems hervorzuheben, sie reichen nicht aus. Als internationale, transrassische Adoptierte gibt es genug Inhalte da draußen, um bemerkt und gehört zu werden, aber warum sollte man sich die Mühe machen, zu reden, wenn niemand zuhört? Lynelle hat Recht, Olivia verdient ihren Platz in unserer Gemeinschaft, einen Raum, um sich dafür einzusetzen, einen Raum, um ihre eigene Erzählung zu gestalten, und ich werde nicht hier sitzen und das für sie gestalten. Und ich werde nicht zum Handeln, zum Zorn oder zum Wandel aufrufen, dies ist ein Aufruf zur Empathie. Ein Aufruf an Sie, hier zu sitzen und internationalen, transrassischen Adoptierten zuzuhören. Das Problem ist, dass die Worte „Adoptierter“ oder „adoptiert“ allein schon die Infantilisierung von Erwachsenen konnotieren und die Leute mit uns reden, als wüssten wir nicht, was das Beste für uns ist. Oder die Worte „Glück“ oder „Dankbarkeit“ werden herumgeworfen und uns wird gesagt, dass „es hätte schlimmer kommen können!“ Wie konnte man Leuten wie Olivia Dankbarkeit aufzwingen, Leute wie Huxley Stauffer oder Devonte Hart? Wie können Sie sich ein vollständiges Bild machen, ohne Details zu kennen? Und das ist die Macht, die White Supremacy bei der Adoption spielt. Diese Systeme wurden nicht für Leute wie uns gebaut. Die Schlagzeilen von Olivia Atkocaitis, Huxley Stauffer, Devonte Hart sind absichtlich sensationell und so gestaltet, dass sie jedes wirkliche Detail oder jede wirkliche Information ausschließen, denn wer kann Sie für die Menschen zur Rechenschaft ziehen, die durch das Raster fallen, wenn der Leser in Chaos, Empörung und Brennen geraten ist Wut?

Ich könnte den ganzen Tag hier sitzen und über die Mängel des Systems und die Mängel der internationalen Adoption sprechen. Ich könnte mich hinsetzen und Kontroversen hervorrufen, genau wie die Boulevardzeitungen Funken sprühen, aber dies ist kein Aufruf zu Empörung oder Wut, dies ist ein Aufruf zur Empathie. Hinter den Nachrichten, hinter der Wut, hinter den kaputten Systemen gibt es Menschen wie Olivia, die in ihrem Leben etwas Besseres verdienen, und wie kann man Mitgefühl für Menschen haben, wenn man sie auf eine Nachrichtengeschichte reduziert? Wie können Sie jemandem zuhören, wenn Ihr innerer Monolog bereits von der Sensationsgier der Boulevardzeitungen umrahmt und erzählt wird, und von diesen Erfahrungen profitieren? Die Primärquellen sind da, sie müssen einfach gehört werden, nicht nur, wenn wir der Flavour des Monats sind, weil etwas Sensationelles passiert ist. Bei der Repräsentation geht es nicht nur darum, unsere Gesichter auf dem Bildschirm oder in Räumen zu sehen, die uns nicht gewährt wurden. Es geht darum, diesen Raum einzunehmen und ihn für uns zurückzufordern; Menschen wie Olivia brauchen keine Interessenvertretung, sie brauchen keine Überkompensation. Sie verdienen einen Platz.

Verweise

In China geborene Frau verklagt Adoptiveltern wegen angeblicher Einsperrung im Keller, Zwangssklaverei und rassistischer Behandlung

Frau wirft Adoptiveltern vor, sie verhungern, schlagen und in einem nach menschlichem Abfall stinkendem Kellerverlies einsperren zu lassen

Frau, 19, verklagt Adoptiveltern, weil sie „in einem Kerker gehalten und als Sklavin benutzt wurden“.

Olivia Atkocaitis – über 12 Jahre lang von Adoptiveltern gegen ihren Willen festgehalten (Video)

Die Polizei von New Boston sagt, sie habe ein Mädchen gerettet, das sagt, sie sei versklavt worden

Trauer in der Adoption

von Cosette Eisenhauer von China in die USA adoptiert, Mitbegründer von Adoption navigieren

Trauer ist ein seltsames Konzept. Ich erwarte, dass ich Menschen betrauere, die ich kenne, Familie und Freunde, die verstorben sind. In diesen Zeiten macht es Sinn, den Verlust eines geliebten Menschen zu betrauern. Ich kenne sie und ich habe sie geliebt. Ich bin in der Lage, eine Person zu betrauern, die ich getroffen habe, eine Person, die mein Leben aus dem einen oder anderen Grund beeinflusst hat. Menschen trauern auch, wenn es zu tragischen Ereignissen kommt, oft kommt es dazu, dass sie ihre Namen und Gesichter kennen.

Meine leiblichen Eltern und das Leben, das ich in China geführt haben könnte, zu betrauern, ist eine seltsame Art von Trauer. Menschen zu betrauern, die ich nie getroffen habe und die ich nie gelebt habe, ist eine verwirrende Art von Trauer. Es gibt keine Person, auf die man schauen könnte, es gibt keinen Namen, der mit der Trauer einhergeht. Dann gibt es die Trauer und Taubheit, wenn es darum geht, die Informationen zu betrauern, die ich nicht kenne. Trauer als internationaler Adoptierter ist insgesamt ein seltsames Konzept, es ist ein seltsames Wort.

Es gab immer eine Lücke in meinem Herzen für meine leibliche Familie. Ein Traum von mir war, meine leibliche Familie bei meiner Hochzeit zu haben, und je näher der Tag rückt, desto realer wird das Verständnis, dass dieser Traum wahrscheinlich nicht in Erfüllung gehen wird. Die Trauer war so real, sie hat mich übermannt. Manchmal kommt die Trauer, die ich habe, und ich merke nicht einmal, dass es Trauer ist, bis ich zu der Zeit kämpfe. Es ist das gleiche Konzept der Trauer um jemanden, den ich persönlich kenne, es gibt keinen Namen, kein Gesicht für diese Person(en). Ich kannte nie ihre Stimme oder ihren Lebensstil. Es trauert um jemanden, den ich nie getroffen habe.

Ich habe gelernt, dass es in Ordnung ist zu trauern, ich bin ein Mensch. Jede einzelne Person hat jemanden verloren, den sie kennt, und sie haben den Trauerprozess durchlaufen. Menschen trauern auf unterschiedliche Weise. Ich vergleiche die Art, wie ich trauere, nicht mit der Art, wie jemand anderes trauert. Es gibt keinen Zeitplan, wann ich aufhören sollte zu trauern. Ich denke vielleicht, ich bin fertig, und dann geht es wieder los.

Sie können Cosette folgen unter:
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_c.eisenhauer_/ Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/cosette-e-76a352185/ Adoption navigieren Webseite: https://www.navigatingadoption.org/home

Adoptees at the Hague Special Commission

Next week on 4-8 July, the 104 signatory countries of the Convention of 29 May 1993 on Protection of Children and Co-operation in Respect of Intercountry Adoption will gather online together at the Special Commission meeting to discuss Post Adoption Und Illicit / Illegal Adoption matters. It is a significant event that happens usually every 5 years and this marks the first time there will be broad representation of intercountry adoptees attending as Observers. Historically since 2005, International Korean Adoptee Association (IKAA), the network representing Korean adoptee interests has been the only adoptee organisation to attend. In 2015, Brazil Baby Affair (BBA) was the second adoptee led organisation to attend with IKAA. Due to COVID, this current Special Commission meeting was postponed and over the past years, I can proudly say I have helped to spread the knowledge amongst adoptee led organisations of HOW to apply and encouraged lived experience organisations like KUMFA (the Korean mothers organisation) to represent themselves. This year, we proudly have 6 adoptee led organisations representing themselves and their communities. We have progressed!

Back in 2015, I wrote the blog titled Why is it Important to have Intercountry Adoptee Voices on this website. Many times over the years I have advocated about the importance of our voices being included at the highest levels of government discussions. So I say again, our voices are immensely important at these highest levels of adoption policy, practice and legislation discussions.

Some critics might say we change nothing in intercountry adoption by attending these meetings, however, I would like to suggest that merely seeing us represent our adult selves in numbers, helps governments and authorities realise a few key points:

  • We grow up! We don’t remain perpetual children.
  • We want to have a say in what happens to future children like ourselves.
  • We help keep them focused on “who” we really are! We are not nameless numbers and statistics. We are alive people with real feelings, thoughts and a myriad of experiences. Their decisions MATTER and impact us for life and our future generations!
  • We help them learn the lessons from the past to make things better for the future and remedy the historic wrongs.
  • We are the experts of our lived experience and they can leverage from our input to gain insights to do their roles better and improve the way vulnerable children are looked after.

One of the advantages of the framework of the Hague Convention, is that it creates opportunities like the upcoming Special Commission where adoptees can have visibility and access to the power structures and authorities who define and create intercountry adoption. Domestic adoptees lack this framework at a global scale and are disadvantaged in having opportunities that bring them together to access information and people which is important in advocacy work.

I’m really proud of our team of 8 who are representing ICAV at this year’s meeting. I have ensured we cover a range of adoptive and birth countries because it’s so important to have this diversity in experiences. Yes, there’s still room for improvement, but I’ve been limited by people’s availability and other commitments given we all do this work as volunteers. We are not paid as government or most NGO participants at this upcoming meeting. We get involved because we are passionate about trying to improve things for our communities! Equipping ourselves with knowledge on the power structures that define our experience is essential.

Huge thanks to these adoptees who are volunteering 5 days/nights of their time and effort to represent our global community!

  • Abby Forero-Hilty (adopted to the USA, currently in Canada, born in Colombia; Author of Colombian adoptee anthology Decoding Our Origins, Co-founder of Colombian Raíces; ICAV International Representative)
  • Schätze Asha Bolton (adopted to the USA, born in India, President of People for Ethical Adoption Reform PEAR; ICAV USA Representative)
  • Colin Cadier (adopted to France, born in Brazil, President of La Voix Des Adoptes LVDA)
  • Jeannie Glienna (adopted to the USA, born in the Philippines, Co-founder of Adoptierter Kwento Kwento)
  • Judith Alexis Augustine Craig (adopted to Canada, born in Haiti; Co-founder of Adult Adoptee Network Ontario)
  • Kayla Zheng (adopted to the USA, born in China; ICAV USA Representative)
  • Luda Merino (adopted to Spain, born in Russia)
  • Myself, Lynelle Lang (adopted to Australia, born in Vietnam; Founder of ICAV)

We represent ourselves together with our adoptee colleagues who represent their own adoptee led organisations as Observers:

I’m not expecting great changes or monumental happenings at this upcoming meeting, but it’s the connections we make that matter whether that be between ourselves as adoptees and/or with the various government and NGO organisations represented. Change in this space takes decades but I hope for the small connections that grow over time that accumulate and become a positive influence.

The next few posts will be sharing some of the key messages some of our team put together in preparation for this Hague Special Commission meeting on Post Adoption Support and what the community via these leaders, wish to share. Stay tuned!

Anonym teilt über Adoptee Anger

Dies ist eine Serie über die Wut von Adoptierten aus gelebter Erfahrung, um Menschen zu helfen zu verstehen, was unter der Oberfläche ist und warum Adoptierte manchmal wütend wirken können.

von Anonymous, von China in die USA adoptiert.

I have experienced anger as an adoptee. For me it occurred in my late teens and early 20s in that transition time between high school and college. I was angry at my parents for adopting me and not putting in effort to learn or share my birth culture, I was angry at my birth parents for putting me up for adoption and having a baby they could not care for. I was angry at larger systems of poverty and inequality that put people in difficult situations. I was so angry at people telling me I was Chinese or Asian but I had no idea what that meant.

I was angry at Chinese people I met that were disappointed I wasn’t more “Chinese.” I lashed out at my parents and said very hurtful things to them about adoption. I also unfortunately turned much of this anger and toxicity onto myself and it negatively affected the way I viewed myself. For me, the anger was about being confronted with the understanding that adoption didn’t just give me a family, but also meant that I had one in the periphery that I might never know. I felt like a foreigner in my own body, constantly being judged for my race but not claiming that identity. I couldn’t process how to come to terms with the effects of poverty and the larger systems that led to me being placed for adoption.

I really felt anger as the onset of grief.

Now the anger has faded, and I do feel a deep, complicated sadness when I think about these topics. What helped me the most was reaching out and connecting with other adoptees. It helped me to channel and validate my feelings about adoption, see more nuances in the process, and regain a lot of self-confidence and self-worth.

As I have gotten involved with adoptee organizations, I’ve found solace, healing, and joy. My parents, while we’ll always have differences, love me and they never retaliated when I said mean things about the adoption process or them. From close friends and family, I was treated with compassion, love, understanding, and community. I think that’s what every person needs when working through these big, unexplainable things.

Eine Mahnwache für Christian Hall, 1 Jahr danach

On 30 December 2021, 7-9pm CST we gathered in social media application, Clubhouse to participate in an online vigil, created and led by Vietnamese adoptee Adam Chau. The event was organised in conjunction with Christian Hall’s family who created the physical in-person vigils at various cities around the USA. The purpose of the vigils was to honour Christian’s life, raise awareness about and bring the impacted communities together in solidarity to seek Justice for Christian Hall. You can read their latest articles Hier Und Hier.

A number of adoptee guests were invited to share our thoughts for the online vigil: Kev Minh Allen (Vietnamese American adoptee), Lynelle Lang (Vietnamese Australian adoptee), Kayla Zheng (Chinese American adoptee), Lee Herrick (Korean American adoptee).

I share with you what I spoke about in honour of Christian Hall.

My name is Lynelle Long, I’m the founder of Intercountry Adoptee Voices (ICAV). I’d like to thank you Adam Chau for organising this online event today in honour of Christian. Thankyou Nicole, Christian’s cousin who is on our call, for allowing us to join in with this vigil. I’m so sorry for your family’s loss! It’s a privilege to be able to speak. I am a person with lived experience of intercountry adoption and like Christian Hall, I am of Chinese descent … except I was born in Vietnam and adopted to Australia, whereas he was born in China and adopted to the USA.

The common thread that unites me with Christian Hall is that we both experienced abandonment as an infant. No matter what age we are, for an adoptee, loss of our first family as abandonment/relinquishment is a raw and painfully traumatic experience. It stays with us throughout life in the form of bodily sensations and gets easily triggered. When this happens, these sensations flood our body as fear, panic, anxiety.

Worse still is that when our abandonment occurs as an infant, we have not developed a language as a way to understand our experience. We are simply left with pre-verbal feelings (bodily sensations). It took me over 20 years until I read the first book, The Primal Wound by Nancy Verrier which changed my life in terms of coming to understand how abandonment and adoption had impacted me. That book was the first to help give words to the experience I felt up until then, as an entirely somatic experience, as uncomfortable sensations in my body, that I hadn’t understood, which I’d spent my life running away from every time they re-emerged.

The other common thread that unites me with Christian Hall is that we both experienced suicidal ideation and attempts. For him, it tragically meant the end of his life by police officers who did not understand his traumas. For me, after numerous failed attempts and ending up in ER, it meant a long process of awakening to the trauma I had lived. 20+ years later, I have spent most of this time helping to awaken our society to what adoption is really about for us, the adopted person.

Being adopted never leaves us. We might try to escape and pretend that it has no impact but deep down to our core, our abandonment wires almost every aspect of our being – most importantly, how we connect or not to others around us and to ourselves. At its core, intercountry adoptees experience loss of identity, race and culture. Unless we have supports around us that understand and help us to overcome the trauma of abandonment early on, we stumble in the dark, completely unaware of how our abandonment impacts us. Many adoptees call it “being in the fog” until we become awakened. Today, decades after Nancy Verrier first wrote her amazing book, we now have many, many books written by adoptees who are THE experts of our own lived experience. These books are a written testament to the complexities we live through adoption and how this impact us.

In the past 2 months, I have worked with others to speak out about the impacts of abandonment and adoption trauma and the direct connection to risk of suicide. I acknowledge that Christian’s family do not relate his tragic death to suicide, but I suspect his feelings of abandonment were triggered as key events led to him being on the bridge that day. I hope that more adoptive families will educate themselves about the complexities we live as people who get disconnected from our origins via intercountry adoption. There are almost 2 million of us worldwide and we are speaking out en-masse to help the world understand it is not a rainbows and unicorns experience. We require lifelong supports from professionals who are trauma and adoption trained. In America alone, there are hundreds of thousands of intercountry adoptees – America remains the biggest receiving country in the world. Too many are struggling emotionally every day, yet in the USA, there is still no free national counselling service for intercountry adoptees and their families. There is also NO national post adoption support centre in the USA funded to help intercountry adoptees grow into adulthood and beyond. Isn’t it a huge shortcoming that the largest importer of children in the world has no lifelong supports fully funded, equitable, freely accessible – how can America expect positive outcomes for children who are amongst the most vulnerable if we don’t fund what we know they need?

I never knew Christian personally. I only discovered him through his death. I wish I had known him. From the many intercountry adoptees I connect to, I know we gain so much emotionally from being connected to others just like us. Being connected to our peers helps reduce those feelings of isolation, helps us understand we aren’t the only ones to experience life this way, helps connect us to sources of support and validation that we know has worked. I wish Christian had met our community. I’ll never know if it would have made the difference so that he wasn’t there that day on that bridge. As an adoptee, I suspect Christian most likely wanted help that day, help to ease his hurting soul, not death. 

Also, let’s take a moment to remember his biological family in China. Whether they ever truly had a choice in his relinquishment, we’ll probably never know but from my knowledge in this field, it’s most likely not. Christian’s adoption was likely the result of the 1-Child Policy era in China where thousands of families were forced to relinquish their children, many of them ending up intercountry adopted like Christian. Please take a moment to consider that through adoption, his biological family don’t even have the right to know that he has passed away. 

The travesty in adoption is that trauma is experienced by all in the triad (the adoptee, the adoptive family, the biological family) yet the traumas continue to go largely unrecognised and unsupported in both our adoptive and birth countries. We must do better to prevent the unnecessary separation of families, and where adoption is needed, ensure that families undertake adoption education, learning about its complexities in full and having free equitable access for life to the professional supports needed.

My huge thanks to his extended and immediate family for being brave and opening themselves up thru all this trauma and allow these vigils where his life and death can be honoured for the greater good. I honour the pain and loss they’ve lived and thank them immensely for allowing our intercountry adoptee community to join in with them in support.

Thank you.

If you would like to support Christian’s family and their push for justice, please sign the petition Hier.

If you would like to better understand the complexities involved in intercountry adoption as experienced by adoptees, our Video-Ressource is a great place to start. Wouldn’t it be amazing to create a resource like this to help educate first responders to better understand the mental health crises that adoptees experience.

The Dehumanisation of an Adoptee

von Kayla Zheng von China in die USA adoptiert.

I would be so bold to say that the vast majority of, if not all, adoptions are the selfish act of those wanting to, or having already adopted. The result of adoption leaves the adoptee in a perpetual state of dehumanisation. If we look at the word dehumanisation defined by  the Oxford Dictionary, it means “the process of depriving a person or group of positive human qualities.” For the public and individuals who are not well versed in adoption, the adoption industrial complex, and its practices, this can be quite confusing and the representation of adoption and adoptees have, for the most part, been a glamorised sensational plot twist or form of character development. Yet, here lies one of the many ways adoptees, both on-screen and off, are dehumanised and portrayed as void of any critical thought or experience. 

Adoption, as portrayed by social media and film, consistently shows adoptive parents (who are often white) as selfless philanthropic couples whose only intentions are to dote and shower love on a poor child (who are often BIPOC), ever pushing the narrative of white saviours. The consistent and inherent goodness and altruistic nature of whiteness by default shifts both power and racial dynamics in favour of whiteness and the dependent, in need of saving, is helpless without the all-powerful and knowing whiteness bestowed onto the child of colour. When these patterns of adoption become representative and up for societal consumption, it dehumanises the adoptee to be merely a puppet without inherent positive attributes on their own. Any potential is tied and associated to the people who adopted them, leaving the adoptee as a hollow shell used to narrow in the spotlight on the adoptive parents. Through film and TV, adoption is the stripping away of an adoptee (again, predominantly BIPOC), the illumination of adoptive parents (and, again, predominately white), how can society possibly see us as humans when we live in the shadows of those who adopted us? How can we be seen with inherent potential, with the successes of our ancestors running through our blood, and dreams reflecting our truest selves when we are constantly being shown that we are nothing without adoption? That we are nothing without whiteness?

In the continual film and TV portrayal of adoption and adoptees, adoptees are always pitted against one another. When you think of some of your favourite films or characters that are adoptees, who are they? Do they happen to be Loki, Frodo Baggins, Black Widow, Batman, The Joker, Lord Voldemort? The paradox of society’s fascination and indifference for orphans is destructive, the demand for adoptees (and thus, adoption) is binary and forces adoptees to fill the dual desire to save adoptees/orphans and villainize an adoptee/orphan. The loss of biological connection and identity loss is fantasised to create a more contextualised storyline. The need for adoption to contribute trauma and fantasy for character build-up is highly sought after. This is the double dehumanisation of adoptees through film and TV.

The danger with artificial and weak backstories is that it boxes adoptees and orphans into narrow forms and compounds the stigma and expectations surrounding our existence. This forced role of villain or hero does not provide a realistic experience of cohesively incorporating mountainous rage, burdening grief, exuding joy, and love. What Hollywood and the media project of “bad” or “good” adoptees/orphans limits and strips them of their individuality, autonomy, and humanness. The “damaged and broken” adoptee or “overcomer and hero” orphan are roles that are inaccurate and are a weak reality that is far from the nuanced life an adoptee/orphan lives that requires a burden too heavy to carry. Film and TV strips away our humanity and adoptees do not get the privilege to exist as ourselves. We are only for consumption and the limited space provided for us in the binary tropes romanticises our trauma, confines our capabilities, and diminishes us to fit a consumer’s palate. We never belong to ourselves. If we cannot have ownership over our own stories and lives, are we even able to be fully human? 

In my experience, the greatest form of dehumanisation occurs for an adoptee within the church. Growing up in an all-white environment and heavily involved in a white church that preached white Christianity, I had to survive in an ecosystem of whiteness that demanded gratitude to the good white Christians who saved me from big, bad, heathen, communist China. I would find myself, more than once, being paraded around as a token of Christian and white goodness. Of how “the Lord works in miraculous ways” and gave lil ol’ me the “opportunity and privilege to be adopted by a Christian family in a Christian country where I learned about Christ.” What that told me loud and clear was that China was irredeemable unless under the power of the white Christian church or through adoption by whiteness. In other words, I did not possess inherent potential and positive traits without the white man liberating me and providing me access to success under the guidance of white Christianity. 

The dehumanisation continued, as in my early years during conferences I would be brought in front of a congregation or made to stand onstage alongside my adoptive parents, and they would discuss how adoption was a beautiful gift that touched their life. Other times, youth leaders would openly discuss how my adoption is a metaphor for how Christians are “adopted” into the family of Christ. And how my adoption gave me a new father – we have a new father through Jesus! Different variations and versions of these scenarios have plagued my youth and further trivialised my existence into a metaphor that others could benefit from. Not once did anyone question if adoption was a gift to me, if being taken away from my homeland touched my life in a beautiful way or not, or being uprooted twice before the age of three with a group of white strangers benefited me or could replace a sense of family for me.

To have your story told through a white lens as a person of colour that protects the white man while diminishing your autonomy and the multifaceted complexities of your existence, is one of the most dehumanising grievances that can happen. Adoption through mainstream media and the church gave little room for me to feel human but instead made every space feel like an advertisement that others could project their value onto, for their own benefit. Winners have the privilege to write history or speak about it on stage. Losers, those who are not given the same chance to speak their own story, those who are bought…are dehumanised. 

Kayla’s most popular articles: Dekolonisierung Moses & Atlanta-Konsequenzen

Meine Realitäten, aus China adoptiert zu werden

von Xue Hua von China in die USA adoptiert.

Hallo allerseits! Mein Name ist Xue Hua und ich wurde als 1-Jährige aus Hunan, China, adoptiert. Ich lebe in Indianapolis in den USA, wo ich aufgewachsen bin. Meine (weißen amerikanischen) Eltern hatten 3 leibliche Kinder und adoptierten mich dann, als ihr Jüngster 7 Jahre alt war. Etwa ein Jahr, nachdem wir mich adoptiert hatten, adoptierten wir ein weiteres Mädchen aus China und dann etwa 3 Jahre später noch ein weiteres. Wir sind also eine Familie mit insgesamt 6 Mädchen – 3 biologisch verwandte und weiße und 3 adoptierte und chinesische Mädchen.

Während es definitiv schön war, Geschwister zu haben, die auch POC sind und adoptiert sind (was viele nicht haben), war es auch ziemlich schwierig, weiße Geschwister zu haben. In den letzten 2 Jahren gab es einige ernsthafte Auseinandersetzungen in der Familie, und meinerseits, hauptsächlich aufgrund der Art und Weise, wie wir über Rasse und Adoption kommuniziert / nicht kommuniziert haben. Es ist schwer, weil ich wirklich zu meinen älteren Schwestern aufgeschaut habe und sie stolz darauf waren, sehr „aufgeweckt“ und auf soziale Gerechtigkeit bedacht zu sein, aber dennoch haben sie sich weitgehend geweigert anzuerkennen, wie sie zu meinen Erfahrungen mit rassistischen Traumata beigetragen haben unsere Familie, und das war in letzter Zeit ein großer Wendepunkt in unseren Beziehungen. Glücklicherweise war meine Mutter, obwohl sie ziemlich konservativ ist, viel verständnisvoller und bereit, sich selbst ehrlich anzusehen.

Ein weiteres wichtiges Thema in den Geschichten vieler Adoptierter sind Verlassenheitsprobleme, die mir nicht fremd sind. Abgesehen davon, dass ich als Baby offensichtlich zur Adoption freigegeben wurde und in einem Waisenhaus lebte, starb mein Adoptivvater, der mir sehr nahe stand, als ich 8 Jahre alt war. Während meine Mutter und ich uns immer nahe standen, neigte sie dazu, abzuschalten, wenn Konflikte und Stress zunahmen, also verbrachte ich einen Großteil meiner Kindheit (besonders nachdem mein Vater starb) damit, mich auch emotional verlassen zu fühlen. Ich sehe viele andere Adoptierte in unseren Social-Media-Gruppen, die ähnliche Kämpfe teilen!

Eine Sache, die mir während meiner Adoptionsreise sehr geholfen hat, ist, mich mit anderen asiatischen Frauen anzufreunden. Während es Momente gibt, in denen ich mich „mehr/zu weiß“ fühle, habe ich mich meistens sehr einbezogen und willkommen gefühlt. Es war auch eine großartige Gelegenheit, mit anderen Adoptierten über Rasse und Rassismus zu diskutieren, die wirklich verstehen, wovon ich spreche / was ich erlebe.

Eine andere Sache, die hilfreich war, ist das Schreiben. Ich habe kürzlich ein persönliches kreatives Sachbuch darüber geschrieben, wie man ein Adoptivkind zwischen verschiedenen Rassen ist, und es hat den Preis „Best of“ in der Sachbuch-Kategorie des Literatur- und Kunstmagazins meiner Hochschule gewonnen! Es war so kathartisch, anderen meine Geschichte zu erzählen und dafür so großzügig anerkannt zu werden. Ich empfehle jedem anderen Adoptierten-Autoren da draußen dringend, Ihre Geschichte zu teilen – ob für den persönlichen oder öffentlichen Gebrauch!

Implications of China’s One Child Policy Expansion

von Hanna, adopted from China to Canada.

Guizhou province—”Humans have only one earth, we must control population growth!” (Adam Century)

Born in China

I was born in China. That’s it, end of origin story. That’s all I know. I was probably born in Jiangsu Province, but even that’s not certain. The earliest known record of my existence is a medical examination when I was estimated to be 20 days old. Many of my friends know where they were born, what hospital, what day, some even know the time down to the second as well as how long it took. I know none of that. They know who was present at the time they were born, what family members they met first. I know none of that. My legal birth date is estimated from when I was found, I have no original birth registration. My name was given to me by orphanage officials. I don’t know what my name was or if my biological parents had even bothered to give me a name. The record of where I was found and when have been lost or forgotten. My (adoptive) mother wrote in a scrapbook which county they were told I was found in. There are no records of it, I have no abandonment certificate like some Chinese adoptees do and I have no recorded finding ad. For many intents and purposes, my life began when I was adopted by a white Canadian couple when I was under a year old. I am one of thousands of Chinese children adopted by foreigners after China opened its doors to intercountry adoption in 1991.

Like most Chinese adoptees, I was adopted under the shadow of the One Child Policy, first introduced in 1979. The One Child Policy (the unofficial name for the birth restriction policy) dictated that couples were only allowed to have one child. There were exceptions for rural families and ethnic minorities, but the policy was implemented and unequally enforced across the country, with varying levels of violence. The cultural preference for sons is well-publicized and is believed to be the reason behind why the majority of Chinese adoptions under the One Child Policy were girls. It is widely known and accepted among the Chinese adoptee community, the majority of us who were born female, that we were relinquished (or stolen) because of our sex at birth.

China’s changing birth restrictions

On May 31, 2021, I checked the news and saw a CBC article that said China had eased its birth restrictions and would now allow couples to have up to three children, instead of the previous two, which was implemented in 2016. I remember reading a similar news article in 2015 when it was announced that China was relaxing the One Child Policy for the first time in decades to allow for two children per couple. At the time, I didn’t think much of it, I was happy that the restrictions were loosened and sad that they were still policing reproductive rights. And yet, this morning when seeing the news, I felt much more strongly. Perhaps it is because during the pandemic, I made an effort to connect to the adoptee community, through joining online Facebook groups, run by adoptees for adoptees. I started trying to (re)learn Mandarin, which I had long since forgotten, despite being put in Mandarin lessons when I was little. Maybe it’s because of the spotlight put on anti-Black and anti-Asian racism due to the multiple high-profile police killings of Black people, the surge in Asian hate crimes due to the racist rhetoric about the origin of the pandemic, that’s forced me to more closely examine my own racial and cultural identity as a Canadian, transracial, Chinese, intercountry adoptee. But perhaps most of all, it’s because I have two sisters, also adopted from China, something that wasn’t allowed in China for most families until now.  

Mixed Emotions

For many reasons, reading the news article on China’s new relaxed policy, gave me many more mixed feelings. Again, the happiness at a relaxed policy and the sadness and disappointment at the continued policing of women’s bodies and reproductive rights. But this time, it came with another feeling: anger. I am angry. It feels like a slap to the face for all Chinese adoptees and their biological families who were (forcefully) separated under the One Child Policy. It feels like it was for nothing, even more than before. What was the point of my biological parents relinquishing me (if that’s what happened) if they were just going to change the policy later? What was the point in creating the policy when the birth rate was already falling, as it does when women are given greater access to education, careers and contraceptives, and now they want to increase the birth rate again? What was the point of stripping me of my name, my birthday, my culture, when the driving force behind my abandonment has been (semi-)reversed? If Chinese couples are now allowed to have three children (the same number as my sisters and I), then what was the point of the policy which drove thousands of children, mostly girls, to be abandoned, aborted and trafficked?

Mixed Emotions by KwangHo Shin

Now the policy has been changed and so what? I’m still a Chinese adoptee, living thousands of kilometres from my birth country, with no easy way to connect to any living blood relatives, unless I want to attempt a search. I’m still a Chinese adoptee who doesn’t know my birth name, birthday or birthplace. South Korean adoptees fought for and successfully lobbied the South Korean government for recognition and (limited) reparations. They have been given a way to recover their South Korean citizenship and are now eligible to apply for the F-4 (Korean Heritage) Visa. During the pandemic, the South Korean government sent free face masks for Korean adoptees. China does not acknowledge dual citizenship, nor does it provide adoptees with a special visa that would allow them an easier way return to their birth country. China does not acknowledge intercountry adoptees or how the thousands of children who were adopted internationally were direct consequences of the One Child Policy. The policy has been loosened and now Chinese couples can have up to three children, like my family in Canada. The policy that likely drove my adoption has been loosened and yet nothing has changed for me, and the Chinese government moves on.

What If’s

I don’t like thinking of the what-ifs and what-could-be’s. I don’t like imagining what my life could have been if I was never relinquished (or stolen), if I was never adopted, if I was adopted by a Chinese couple instead etc. But this recent announcement has forced me to think about the what-ifs. Specifically, “What if my birth family had been able to keep me because they weren’t restricted by the One Child Policy?” I’m happy and satisfied with my current life. Despite the occasional hiccups, racist micro-aggressions and identity struggles, I wouldn’t change anything. That doesn’t mean I can’t and won’t mourn the life that was taken from me due to the One Child Policy. I mourn that I don’t know what my biological parents named me (if they did). I mourn that I don’t know the date, time and location where I was born. I mourn that I don’t know, and may never know, if I look like any of my biological relatives. I mourn that I will likely never know the full story behind my adoption. I mourn that as a Canadian, I will never feel fully comfortable in China and that as a Chinese adoptee, I will never be seen as fully Canadian. And I’m angry that for the Chinese government, they can change the One Child Policy and move on, while I and thousands of others will bear the consequences for the rest of our lives.

Defining Home

von Jess Schnitzer, von China in die USA adoptiert.

I am currently a first year student at the University of Washington, Seattle and finished with the course “Contemporary Issues of Asian Americans and Pacific Islander Americans“. It was an eye-opening class, especially at the end where my lecturer talked about adopted Asian American issues.

For the final project of the class, the class was given an option to create a creative, reflective project, and being one of the only adopted AAPIA in class, I chose mine about my personal journey as an adoptee.

I thought I would share in case others may relate to the stories that I discussed. If anyone else is in college right now, I would totally recommend taking an Asian American Studies or American Ethnic Studies course. This course has made me feel even more connected to my Asian American identity and background. Thank you for giving me a community to share this in!

Defining Home by Jess Schnitzer

Deutsch
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