Adoption is Complex

by Rowan van Veelen adopted from Sri Lanka to the Netherlands.

My two mothers

ADOPTION

Am I unhappy in the Netherlands?

I’m against adoption and still happy with my beautiful life in the Netherlands. It’s not as black and white as everyone thinks.

I can be happy in the Netherlands and at the same time unhappy about the lack of not knowing my biological family.

ANGRY AT ADOPTION IS NOT THE SAME AS ANGRY AT ADOPTIVE PARENTS

My adoptive parents did everything out of love. What they couldn’t give me as adoptive parents is the mirroring and the comprehension of my losses.

It is very simple to see that they are my parents but there is also the character part, which is organic and where we differ.
Why would I be mad at them about this? This is something unfair to expect from adoptive parents because they can’t give that either.

Just like every parent, they make mistakes in education and that’s okay! So I’m not mad about that either. So I can say personally, I am against adoption but at the same time grateful for who my adoptive parents are. At the same time, I missed my biological parents.
Being adopted is not black or white but grey.

AGAINST ADOPTION BECAUSE .. ?

I found my biological family and my papers were correct. So why would I oppose adoption? As mentioned above, I have good parents, so what’s the problem then?

The problem is that money is made from me at my most vulnerable moment in life when I was a baby.

The moment I depended most on others, my vulnerability was taken advantage of.

For others to make money, I feel like something that was traded. It’s a scarey feeling that people arranged everything in the procedure to get me to the Netherlands. It’s not a safe feeling. This makes sense because it was never about my safety but what I was worth as a baby for sale.

So yes, I’m super happy that my papers were correct and that after 27 years I met my family! But that doesn’t change the way this went and the negative consequences on my development because of these events.

NOT ONLY IN SRI LANKA

Then why am I against adoption from all over the world?
Because as long as money is made from adoption procedure, children’s rights will be violated.

As long as demand from the West exists for babies, the supply will be created in poor countries.
This doesn’t stop until the demand stops.

If you have to adopt if necessary, do so from within the Netherlands. Believe me, I understand how difficult the choices are for being childless, but you must never forget the importance of the child.

Tough, Resilient and A Survivor!

Guest post by Mike, adopted from Hong Kong to New Zealand.

I remember growing up in an orphanage until the age of 6. Some of my memories include playing in the little park which had a pond and loving nature, the little frogs and birds. When we were naughty, the older kids would hide rubber spiders in our beds saying they only came ’cause we naughty, till one night I got angry, sad at it and cut it in half – laughing and crying at same time, chucking it at other kids. I was always being the big brother figure.

I remember getting pushed off a stage and hurting my head. That’s where my fear of falling and being scared of heights comes from. It was heaps of fun growing up in orphanage. There I learnt what family was, my culture, my heritage, my language, I had a sense of belonging and identity. I was the smart but naughty kid!

I remember the last day before getting taken to New Zealand for adoption. My birth mother came to see me to say goodbye but I didn’t recognise her. She could only spend a couple of minutes with me because she didn’t do the paperwork. So for a while, that was always on my mind about so many “what ifs” and if it was my fault that I got taken away because I didn’t recognise her.

When I got adopted at age 6 and taken away to New Zealand by a white European couple, I had to re-learn and adapt so fast. It was all about fitting in and surviving!

My adoptive parents were not ready for the challenges that came with an older adoptee with a sense of identity. There was a lot of physical and emotional abusive. It was a crap family environment where they were abusive to each other, physically as well. They also had 2 foster kids who were spoilt! I was the black sheep of the family. I got bullied at school then would come home to be abused and beaten up there too. It made me grow up real fast and made me tougher.

They often used their abusive ways to try and mend me into the child they wanted. This of course, pushed me further and further to the point of running away at an early age, depression, attempted suicide, self harm, etc. At age 10, I ran away from home and ended up with a bunch of street kids for a week until they turned on me and beat me up, leaving me bloodied for the police to come pick me up and take me back to my adoptive parents. They tried so hard to mend and fix me with various psychologists, counsellors, etc., but to no avail.

My adoptive parents eventually got divorced when I was aged 15 and I ended up with my adoptive mother. Things went more downhill after that, which eventually lead me to a life of crime. I loved life as a youth criminal, the excitement of shoplifting, stealing, breaking into cars, etc., being part of a youth street gang. But this eventually led me to prison at age 19. I put 2 white boys in hospital from a group fight. The reason for the fight was because of my own racist views against the white people because at that time, I didn’t know all the issues and the mental state of mind I was in.

I got out of prison at age 21 and went back to my adoptive dad. It didn’t last very long because he was still stuck in that mentality that he could bully me and mould me into that model citizen that every dad can dream of. Much to his disappointment, I was in a deep state of depression, denial and hatred because I was so institutionalised – prison was kinda like the orphanage. I ended up joining the Triads and becoming a leader.

I have no regrets with the adoption, my past and everything that has happened as I have achieved so much through sport. I represented my country/homeland in sports, travelled the world, married the girl of my dreams, etc., but as I get older (37 in July), I am afraid of what future I have. My wife wants kids but I don’t have a job or stable income. I don’t want my kid(s) to go through what I did. In a gang, the lifestyle that I live, it’s hard when you have a criminal history, PTSD and a sense of fear of rejection.

A few years ago, my birth mother found me on Facebook. I went to Hong Kong to meet up with her a couple of times. It was disappointing. Maybe I expected the movie dramatic emotional meet up – but it was nothing like that! I was just like, “Oh yep! You’re my mum”. But we couldn’t communicate much due to the language barrier, so it was a bit disappointing. I have half sister who speaks English who lives with my mum. I found out my mother was only 18 years old when she had me and at the time. She was living in a women’s home. Her mother (my grandmother) was divorced at age 15 and had no ability to give her 2 girls stability – so she sent them to a girls home to survive.

Despite all I’ve lived, I guess what I want to say to adoptive parents is, you have a responsibility to the child you adopt – be a positive mother/father figure to the child that you’re bringing into your world. Try to have a better understanding of the challenges that your inter-racial child may have.

Mike welcomes your messages in response to his story.

Learning …

Never Make These 7 Mistakes When Teaching Someone to Ride | Bicycling

Once we have learned to ride a bike, we will never forget it. This is true, but must be understood as a metaphor. I am in a process where I need to learn and become a real human being. I need to learn how to ride a bike. Cycle on the road of life, and once I have learned it, I can never forget it again.

When I lose control, I become insecure. Then I get angry and seek refuge in drugs, or verbal, psychological violence. This feels very insecure to other people. But I had to protect myself.

The world is a dangerous place. I have to protect myself, in order to survive. That’s how it was for me when I was six years old. It was the first thing I learned in my life. But I’m not six years anymore. I don’t have to protect myself anymore. The world can also be a beautiful place. With beautiful people who wish you well.

The fact that I seek professional help myself is a start, a desire for change. A way to learn to ride a bike. I am in a process where I see things in bird’s eye view. It hurts, but also feels good, to see its faults.

by Mentoo Mortensen
Adopted from Bangladesh to Denmark

Can we ignore or deny that racism exists for adoptees of colour?

How Much Racism Do You Face Every Day? - The New York Times

We are in the midst of unprecedented times with COVID-19 taking over the world but as an Asian intercountry adoptee raised in a white adoptive country, I find myself once again, in that uncomfortable “in-between” space. I have lived the experience of sitting between two very different cultures and races – east and west. I am a product of both but yet at this point in time, I feel ashamed at how human beings can behave and treat each other when ultimately, we are of the same human race.

This is but a small collection of articles that have been published about the increases in racism against Asian people since COVID-19. It is observed in all countries around the world.
Montreal’s Korean Consulate Issues Safety Warning after Man Stabbed
New York Attorney General Setup up Hotline to Report Hate Crimes against Asian Americans
Racist Attacks Against Asians Continue to Rise as the Coronavirus Threat Grows
FBI Warns of Potential Surge in Hate Crimes against Asian Americans amid Coronavirus
Disgusting Moment Racist Mother Hurls Abuse at Masked Commuters
Wikipedia’s List of Incidents of Xenophobia and Racism related to COVID-19

I have been raised with the white mindset of my adoptive country but I have also spent over a decade embracing my once removed cut-off Asian heritage. My current pride in being Asian didn’t happen easily because I was adopted in an era without education to advise parents that our cultural and racial heritage is of immense importance. I had to put years of concerted effort into reclaiming back my birth heritage, race and culture. So I find this period of overt racism against Chinese/Asians as very confronting. It reminds me of how I once use to hate my own Asian-ness. I was teased as a child for how different I looked — picked on for my slanting eyes, flat nose, and non European profile. I grew up isolated being the only non-white person in my community as a child. I know that for many Asian adoptees (and many adoptees of colour) right now, we are having to relive those racist moments all over again.

What has been particularly triggering recently, is to see the American President choosing to consciously speak about the COVID-19 disaster with pointed fingers at a whole race, calling it the “Chinese Virus”. I felt personally offended. Did you?

When a leader of the world’s superpower labels a whole race in such a negative manner it overtly tells us that racism is very real, acted out by those highest in power. They make it appear as if it’s “normal”, “okay”, “justified” to do so —- but racism should never be okay! So adoptive families, if you haven’t recognised that we intercountry and transracial adoptees experience racial micro aggressions every day, I hope that this period in time, is your wake up call!

Racism is one of the most common issues we intercountry adoptees end up having to navigate. Facing racism and having to constantly explain why we look Asian (or any colour different to the majority) but speak, think and act like a white person in our adoptive country is a constant challenge. This has been documented in many of the resources we adoptees contribute to and create, eg. The Colour of Difference and The Colour of Time. Sadly, not all adoptive parents recognise the racism we experience and many are definitely not equiped to know how to prepare us for it.

Some more-awoke-adoptive-parents have recently asked what they can do to support their adoptive children who are of Asian descent. I’m sharing this advice from Mark Hagland, a Korean adoptee who has been co-educating adoptive parents at this facebook group for many years:

I think that parents absolutely need to find ways to explain the situation and the environment to their Asian children. Of course, whatever they say must be age-appropriate and sensitive to the individual temperament and stage of development of their individual child/ren. And every child is different. But all children deserve the truth–sensitively and lovingly shared, of course.

Some parents will inevitably say things like, “Oh, I couldn’t possibly harm my child! I want her/him to remain innocent for as long as possible!” Any such sentiment reveals white privilege. All children of colour end up experiencing racism. The least loving thing possible is to avoid preparing one’s child to experience the inevitable. Far better to lovingly explain to one’s child that there are going to be difficult experiences out there, but that they will be okay because they will be supported by you, their parents.

I often tell parents of young children that even the youngest children can understand the concept of fairness. Start with that, if you have a young child. Start with the idea that some people are mean/unfair just because of how someone looks or where they’re from. It IS mean/unfair. With a young child, we need to prepare that child without imparting fear or trauma.

I made sure as a young adult to move to a very large, diverse, welcoming, progressive city in order to live in psychological comfort. And this is literally the first time as an adult that I’m even the least bit worried about experiencing aggressions or micro aggressions against me personally, in the city where I live. I believe it will mostly be okay, but who can say for certain?

I have also been like Mark and as an adult, I ended up relocating myself to a city area that is much more diverse than where I grew up. In my city of Sydney, Australia, I have found a place to belong where I’m not the only Asian or non white person in my community. I have also married into an Asian family which has helped me immensely to embrace my race.

For young adult adoptees, if you are struggling at the moment due to the increase in racism you see directed towards Asians from COVID-19, I highly recommend joining adoptee led groups and communities where you can connect with others and be supported by your peers. There’s nothing like being able to freely speak amongst a group of people who understand what it’s like! The validation and peer support is invaluable. If you have found yourself hugely triggered and struggling emotionally, please seek out further professional support and surround yourself with a strong support network of people who understand what it’s like to be a racial minority. Here is also a link with some great tips.

Right now it’s not an easy time for anyone, but for adoptees and any people of colour, it is a heightened time for being a target of racist acts/comments and/or for being triggered. Please take time to nurture yourself and join into communities who do their best to support and understand you. Let’s all:

Racism is Alive and Well in Novato | Novato, CA Patch

A closely related post we have shared previously, I don’t see Colour.

Collateral Beauty in Adoption

Image result for beauty in pain

There’s a pain that never leaves my heart
of not knowing who my family are
being removed from my country, culture and people
but I can acknowledge,

there’s been a collateral beauty
in everything that’s happened.

It doesn’t make up for 
it just simply is
my children would not be here
if it weren’t for all my losses.

Life is a strange thing
the griefs are so deep
the struggles sometimes so intense
the moments of gain so valuable.

I chose to consciously live
and accept that it all coexists.

Inspired from watching the film, Collateral Beauty.

Image result for collateral beauty

About Lynelle Long

Adoption is Complicated

By Aaron Dechter, adopted from Colombia to America.

Image may contain: 11 people, people smiling

45 years ago today, I was adopted and arrived in Boston, USA. This day is hard: three sides to the coin. Deep sadness for Mamá and my Colombian family for the son who was stolen and taken from them. Happiness for my mom and dad and my American family for what was the most important day for them. So that leaves me.

Like many other adoptees who are torn internally into a million pieces, at my age now, I’ve come to accept the ups and downs, the happy and sadness as the pendulum swings each day.

My younger sister tells me, “The pain and suffering of Mamá and the entire family will never heal”. My older sister tells me, “Take it as a gift of life for having two families that love me, for caring for me and allowing my to return home”. Brenna and Gabriella say, “This was a happy day, now knowing that truth it’s different. It’s tough, it’s still a special day but it feels tainted”. All opinions are justified.

So here I am, representing the triad of adoption. I represent Mamá and Colombia family. I represent my parents and American family. I represent Brenna and Gabriella and myself. I can’t wash the adoption off but it made me who I am today.

The path to healing continues but I’m still here fighting the cause for Mamá, my parents and me.

No photo description available.

Brokenness in Adoption

By Huang Feng Ying, Chinese intercountry adoptee raised in America.

I was born 黄凤英 (Huang Feng Ying) on 29 May 1995 and found in Wuhan, China.  I was “found” on May 30, 1995 on BaoFeng Street, Qiaokou District, Wuhan. Any other parts of my story are unknown, including my birthdate (which is an estimate given to me by my “finder” or the government). I was adopted and brought to America in October of 1995.

My adoptive name is Allyson , I am from Wheaton, Illinois. I have my Bachelor’s of Science in Psychology from the University of Illinois and am working on my Masters of Arts in Clinical Mental Health Counselling at Wheaton college, my goal is to be a therapist for those with cross cultural traumatic experiences, including missionaries, adoptees, adoptive parents, birth parents, cross cultural workers, humanitarian workers, international students, etc.. 

I was adopted into a beautiful multicultural family in America! My mother (Grace) came to America from Poland when she was 9 years old, while my dad (Gerald) is ethnically Polish but raised in Chicago, Illinois. I also have a younger adopted sister whom my parents went to a different part of China to adopt.  Her Chinese name is 岑 福 梅 (Cen Fumei) and American name is Natalie. I am deeply grateful for the opportunities and experiences my adoptive family have given me: private violin and piano lessons, summer camp, trips to Disney World, college education, and even the small things like never going without food. I have also been blessed to be in a family that has deep cultural roots in Poland. My grandmother, mom, and family on her side speak fluent Polish. This cultural identity gave me a sense of belonging but also a sense of being a stranger in my own homeland. Lingering questions of my identity, where I came from, and a deep grief and loss are the core pains of any adoptee. Although these lingering questions exist, I have found comfort in my faith in Christ. He has given me a new identity as His daughter and has been a comforter during my grief and the beginning stages of my current birth family search. 

My painting is called 妈妈,爸爸, and 女儿. 

In Chinese, this means Mama, Baba, and Daughter.  It shows the brokenness of adoption and how as a daughter, I have been cut off from my biological family, but in my world, I have had many opportunities. I have included my Alma mater symbols, music, and other things. It reflects the opportunity I gained but also the losses I grieve. This is what adoption often feels like for me. From the outside looking in, it can appear I have been sent to the most glorious summer camp. I live in the world of endless food, education, opportunity, resources, etc. But from the inside looking out, I am like a child at summer camp who is never allowed to return home — always grateful for what I have but always grieving what I have lost. The complexity of being an adoptee is feeling conflicting emotions. This is okay.  My emotions are not perfectly tied in a bow, they are complicated and messy. They are full of joy and grief.  I have learnt to lean in, feel the grief, allow joy to overflow, and be okay with being both. 

You can contact me huangfengying.allyson@gmail.com anytime.

Family Photo Left to Right: Gerald (Father), Natalie (Younger sister 岑 福 梅), Allyson (me: 黄凤英), Grace (Mother)

Why?

Am I a dog, cat or a fish that you can return back to a pet store? 
Your actions reflect that I am less than an animal
You give strokes of affection and positive comments to your pets 
As I receive constant chastisement for the infractions that I committed
You are genuinely worried when your pet is sick or lost
You know nothing about me and remain clueless about the issues I face alone
I am insignificant
I am a nobody
Why did you adopt me?

Other families make a habit of routinely calling each other
But we are not like other families, I don’t receive calls from you
Most families visit each other over the holidays
Unless I come to you, I don’t get visitations
Most families know chapters about each other as they interact
You know barely a paragraph of my life
I am invisible to you
I do not matter
Why did you adopt me?

You remain vile, proud and unwilling to grasp onto the olive branches I’ve extended
With that attitude, how could I subject my children to you?
You claim that my truths are mere exaggerations, lies or made up stories
How can we discourse when all my words are offensive to you?
I have pondered this question so many times
You said I have deserved the horrific things you did to me
I am a disappointment
I am not worthy
Why did you adopt me?

There is no answer to this question
You’re not honest enough to tell me why
When you examine the answer, you dislike yourself even more
When you’re confronted with the facts, you tighten your grip on denial
You would rather take the reasons with you to the grave
Than to be honest with your child
I am not deserving
I am beneath you
Why did you adopt me?

About Jayme Hansen

One Child Policy Impacts

The following artwork is provided by high school guest adoptee, FUYI. FUYI was born in China in 2002 and adopted to America at 11 months old. She completed this portfolio of artwork as part of her requirements for an advanced placement class in high school. FUYI provides a small blurb after each piece to describe what the artwork is about.

Bad Luck

This piece is simply about death, loss and all the “unknowns” in my life. The hand of a mother forever reaching for the hand of her baby. The lying figure represents those sacrifices for human harvesting. Chinese Bad Luck symbols noted throughout this piece, clock, the number 4, chopsticks in unfinished food… Bad luck symbols for China are not misfortunate in other parts of the world. Forcefully removing children away from their ancestry kills the future of the culture. It’s all very symbolic.

Raw Emotions

“An invisible red thread connects those destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but never break.”

A mind map collage of my emotions and thoughts that are on display for everyone to see. A small collection from fortune cookies are pasted that relate to my feelings. The red and blue prints are the silhouette of my biological father. The biological man in my life rips his heart out at his loss. Again, my unknowns.

December Nights

This piece was my first ever sketch for my advanced placement requirement for review by the College Board, the first time drawing my feelings of being adopted. I’m represented in the middle. Behind me are the silhouettes of my biological parents as well as the road I was abandoned on. The squares are full of identifiers: finger, foot and handprints, and Chinese words that represent me as an abandoned child. My genetics and the possibility of organ harvesting are being hinted at here.

The Ultrasound

The figure represents both my biological mom and I. I’m floating and somewhat lost. Our fingers wrapped by the red thread connecting us and the “3 month” old baby in the ultrasound. On the right, displays a foetus and its heart that is no longer beating. That could’ve been me, had my biological mother not protected me from the government officials. (Inspired by Peng Wang).

This artwork remains the property of FUYI (c) 2019 and may not be reproduced or printed anywhere without seeking permission.

Grieving Mother

Moth….errr. Can I say this word without a pause? Moth..eerrr. Can I say this word without my mind racing to a hundred different thoughts? Moth….errrr. Potentially, maybe, and yet possibly, no. For me it is a word that brings up many connotations, some good, most bad. A word that is hard to utter as my stuttery voice reflects my heart. The purity of the word is lost to me. I am not used to the word on its own, but rather always with another word in front, whether it be birth mother, first mother, adoptive mother, real mother or not real mother. Always another word in front, as if delineating my experience into parts, not a whole. Confusion ensues and my head is spinning as everyone tries to tell me what moth…err is and what a real moth…er is. The expectations and idealisations of moth…er fracture under increasing weight of scrutiny and life experiences. Instead of asking, people are shouting. This is what a real mother does or does not do, or this is what it means to be a mother. Can’t you see that the very fact people are arguing means there’s something not whole about this? No wonder I can’t fully utter this word on my own, bewitched by longing and sorrow, and fully feeling the emotional tension in the word. I can’t escape it. Even when I stare into the eyes of a romantic partner, the alarm bells ring and the sirens wail. What makes this woman different than a moth…errr who left a son? What ensures that the same won’t happen again? The primal fear and the visceral reaction. Moth…eer, what have you done to me? My head is spinning and about to implode. 

It feels strange to say it on my own, waiting impatiently for another accompanying word to show up beside it like a dog searching for its master. Can’t a child have two moth…errs? There I go again. Damn. Another qualifying moth…err. As much as I need to grieve for the moth…errr that is lost, I must also grieve the idea of moth…errr and the fact that, upon relinquishment, my idea of moth…errr was forever shattered, leaving me, a baby, to pick up the pieces. Adults tried to reason for the scraps of moth…err floating around in my heart, and yet, now it is the adult me picking up the pieces to reason with the baby me about the idea of moth..err. Can a man nurture himself? Can he become his own idea of moth…err? What choice is left? I am tired of people defining mother for me. I have an idea of it, because I have lost it, and know the effects of it. And yet where can one begin to heal, except for first grieving mother?

by Joey Beyer