The following blog series will be dedicated to our 搜索跨国收养 series. These individual stories are being shared from our 透视纸 that was also shared with our Webinar, Searching in Intercountry Adoption by Adoptee Experts.

经过 Shelley Rottenberg, born in China, raised in Canada, www.shelleyrottenberg.ca

I was adopted from Zhejiang, China to Ontario, Canada in 1996 when I was 8 months old. In one of my adoption documents, it says, “Our institution has looked for her parents and relatives by all means, but no trace can be found.” To this day, I still know nothing about my biological family. 

About 5 years ago I decided to act on my growing curiosity about my birth family. While I know the odds of finding them are very slim, especially because I don’t have any information to go on, I couldn’t help but at least try. The first step was a 23andMe DNA ancestry kit, gifted to me by my mom as a Christmas present. I carefully read the instructions in the box to make sure I did everything correctly, then sent off my saliva sample. My sister, who is also an adoptee from China, did one too. And then we waited. 

I remember being eager to get the results back because of the hope of having a DNA match with someone else in their database. At the time, the waiting period was about 6-8 weeks. Though after 2 months, instead of my results, I got an email with the subject line, “Your 23andMe Analysis was unsuccessful.” I was told that “the concentration of DNA was insufficient to produce genotyping results.” Luckily, I was sent a replacement kit and got a second chance to submit another saliva sample. Having followed the instructions correctly the first time, and without any further guidance on how to do things differently, I repeated the same steps and sent my sample once again. 

After another long 2-month wait, my heart sank as I read the same email subject line as the last one. Except for this time, they would not be sending me another replacement kit. The email explained that because of “the second low DNA failure” and there being “no additional steps that would increase the chance of success,” a full refund would be available to me. I was shocked and saddened by the news and confused too. I had done the exact same thing as my sister, yet she received her results back after the first attempt.

When I told a friend about the situation, she suggested I lightly chew my inner cheeks before spitting into the tube because buccal cells have a higher concentration of DNA. Determined to give it one last shot, I purchased another 23andMe ancestry kit with the refund they gave me and followed my friend’s advice. The saying, “third time’s a charm” held true in these circumstances because, after another 2 months, my third sample was a success!

All this waiting only heightened my anticipation, which probably contributed to my slight disappointment when I saw that I had no close relative DNA matches. It’s been 5 years now, and while I have over 900 distant relatives, all with less than 1% DNA shared, the number of close relatives is still zero. I have also since uploaded my raw data to GEDmatch and still no luck. 

Another search method I’ve tried is adding my information to a birth family search poster specific to the province I was adopted from. I did this 3 years ago through International Child Search Alliance (ICSA), a volunteer group of adoptees and adoptive parents. Their province search posters are shared widely on Chinese social media and in the past, they partnered with Zhejiang Family Seeking Conference and ZuyuanDNA for an in-person event. 

Getting my information added to the poster took about 3 months, partly because of the time it took me to make a WeChat account, gather the necessary information, and translate some of my adoption paperwork. The other reason for the timing was that ICSA’s update schedule for province search posters is three times a year.

Through the WeChat group for my province, I was able to connect with a woman from Zhejiang who wanted to help overseas adoptees. With great thanks to her, I was able to get my information on Baobei Huijia (Baby Come Home), a Chinese site run by volunteers to help find missing children. 

I learned of GEDmatch, ICSA and Baobei Huijia through the online adoptee/adoption community, which I discovered across various Facebook groups in 2018. Connecting with other adoptees and adoptive parents who are further along and more experienced in the birth family search journey has been extremely helpful. 

My mom has also been a huge help in her own efforts of searching for resources and information about birth family searching. Though most of all, her complete support for me throughout this process is what matters most. She hopes that I can find my biological family and relatives because she knows how important it is to me. 

We have discussed taking the next step of hiring a root finder or searcher. Though once I began to seriously consider this method, it didn’t seem like the right time. One searcher that my mom had reached out to in 2020 said that because of the COVID-19 pandemic, foot traffic was not as high as it used to be, and therefore paying for physical posters to be distributed in my city or province in China may have even lower chances of bringing about any success.

Also, the process of hiring a searcher or organisation seemed quite daunting to me because it is hard to know whom to go with and which services to pay for. Packages greatly differ in terms of how in-depth the search process is and prices can easily be hundreds of dollars. And at the end of the day, the odds of finding my birth family, even with professional help, are very low.

I do plan to go back to China one day for a heritage trip and would incorporate searching for birth family into that. While my active search efforts are paused for now, this is a lifelong journey, so I can pick back up whenever I want to. It’s nice to know that through my other initial search methods, the opportunity for a match is always possible, even without me doing anything. 

However, I do worry that by waiting to pursue additional active search methods, I might be making the process more difficult the longer time goes on. I don’t know if my orphanage has any adoption paperwork other than what I currently have and would hate for those documents to be destroyed. I also fear the possibility of birth family members dying, especially biological parents and grandparents. This thought crossed my mind when COVID-19 cases and deaths were high in China. 

On the other hand, I don’t know if I’m emotionally prepared for the can of worms that can come with more intensive searching and then a possible reunion. I know of adoptees who contacted their birth families, only to be rejected. Then there are others who have very complicated reunions and relationships. Though even considering the endless possibilities and the fact that I might never fully be ready, I still think searching and finding something unexpected is better than knowing nothing at all. 

My advice to other adoptees who are considering searching for their birth family is to make sure you have a solid support system to lean on during this process. I also recommend personally reflecting on your motivations for searching and what you want to get out of it. Lastly, do your research on search options and leverage the existing resources and lived experiences of others who are already familiar with this. I recommend joining the CCI Birth Parent Searching and Reunion Group on Facebook for any Chinese adoptees looking to start this journey.

Thanks for reading and best of luck to my fellow searching adoptees!

Coming Next: 在越南寻找我的家人


Search and Reunion in Intercountry Adoption


The following blog series will be dedicated to our 搜索跨国收养 series. These individual stories are being shared from our 透视纸 that was also shared with our Webinar, Searching in Intercountry Adoption by Adoptee Experts.

经过 Jose Taborda, born in Colombia, raised in the USA

First journal entry by my adoptive mother

In the spring of 1978, I was born in Medellin, Colombia. Separated from my first family by adoption, I was brought by my adoptive parents to New Jersey and grew up with my younger adoptive sister in a Northern New Jersey suburb just outside of New York City.

I was lucky as an adoptee because my adoptive parents made a conscious decision to talk to me about my adoption from an early age. They attended a couple of workshops about adopting a child offered by an adoption agency prior to my adoption where they had been counselled to inform me as soon as possible about my adoption so as to normalise it for me. This advice informed their approach in terms of collecting information and artefacts of my adoption. This included stories of my adoption in Colombia in the form of journal entries written by my adoptive mother, a photograph of my first mother, and my adoption records containing identifying information about my first mother. 

Upon refection, it wasn’t just luck and good advice, my parents were compassionate people who made the decision to share what they knew about my origins with me throughout my life. They had the right instincts that led them not only to send me a dossier containing every artefact about my adoption while I was in college and I first expressed an interest in searching, but also to support my search when I began. 

 When I moved to New York City in my mid-twenties, I started searching. At the time, I had a Yahoo! Email account and noticed that it offered searchable interest groups. There was a group called Colombian Adoptee Search and Support (CASAS), which gathered many people like me: twenty-something Colombian adoptees who grew up around New York City and living in the area! I was shocked to find hundreds of people who were sharing resources about searching, so I started making connections and attending meetups and dinners in Brooklyn and Manhattan where we enjoyed sharing stories and Latino fare. 

Through these meetups, I had gotten the contact information of a private investigator in Medellin with whom I started to interact about my search. Because I had identifying information about my first mother, it took him two weeks to find her. A couple weeks after that, I had my first phone call with her. As one can imagine, finding my first mother within a month of beginning my search was all a whirlwind and very overwhelming. My excitement got the best of me, and I dove right into making plans for a reunion. Well, all of this came as a shock to my adoptive mother and sister, who weren’t as excited as me. They felt threatened by my news. I remember spending a lot of time convincing them that I wasn’t trying to replace them, but rather, it would be an opportunity to learn about my origins. They were not convinced that it was so simple. Searching for first family by adoptees may bring up many past trauma wounds for all members of the adoption constellation. I have heard stories of adoptees shying away from doing any searching while their adoptive parents are still alive due to the raw emotions around adoption that are very rarely acknowledged and dealt with during an adoptive family’s time living together. And when the possibility of a reunion arises, adoptees may find themselves having to reckon with these complicated emotions. This reckoning is not our responsibility as adoptees, but it may be an unanticipated and unwelcome reality that adoptees must face when searching and reuniting with first family.

Coincidentally, the film “Las Hijas” was going to be screened. It was timely that Maria Quiroga, a local filmmaker, was releasing the film profiling three female Colombian adoptees and their reunions with first family.  So I invited my mother and sister to join me. It was an interesting experience because the filmmaker handled the subject matter responsibly in presenting the reality of how complicated reunions between adoptees and first family can be. It helped to see this objective perspective on the emotionally charged situation that was playing out for us. It provided a context for our sensitive conversations, and it helped us to understand that we were not the only ones experiencing the feelings we were. Despite all of that, we continued to have conversations that required my soothing their frayed feelings around my upcoming reunion. 

One thing that stands out for me now sixteen years later as I reflect on my reunion as a young man, is that I did not pursue any mental health support to guide me on that complicated endeavour. In my local adoptee community, the discussion was more centred on the topic of search and reunion in my memory and not as much on adoption mental health issues. However, I acknowledge there is a high likelihood my antenna wasn’t tuned to that particular signal, so to speak. More recently, I have read a lot of highly-respected literature about adoption and mental health including 原始伤口 by Nancy Verrier and Journey of the Adopted Self by Betty Jean Lifton to name a couple of outstanding examples. I am a regular listener to adoptee podcasts including 被收养者 with host Haley Radke and Adapted with host Kaomi Lee among others. I have met many adoptees and I am lucky to live close to an adoptee organization called Also Known As, Inc. that hosts meet ups for transracial, intercountry adoptees. Wise adoptees and adoption professionals these days counsel adoptees who are engaged in reunion to set some boundaries that include having a third-party present during reunion meetings, not staying with first family right away, and pursuing therapy before, during, and after reunion. I did none of those things. 

All of this gathering of resources and self-education on the intersection of adoption and mental health has demonstrated to me that I took a very impetuous, uninformed, and quite risky path on my reunion journey. I stayed with my first mother and her family for three weeks at their home in an outlying municipality of Medellin. I do have very positive memories from my first visit in 2006 that led me to return in the two subsequent years. However, somewhere down the line some members of my first family started to develop expectations that involved money. It was not much at first, but, with time, their boldness grew. This expectation made me uncomfortable because I didn’t want to have to explain to any of them that I am a professional in a field that is not very highly-compensated. To them, I was just the more fortunate one who was able to escape their humble circumstances. No matter how difficult my personal situation was, they are right that I had many more opportunities in the U.S. than they did in Colombia, but I did not feel that it was my responsibility to have to provide for them. I wanted to just get to know them knowing that it would take time to develop a family bond. Truly, I faced hard feelings when they asked for money and that made things very confusing for me. While I know that my experience is not unique, I wished that it wasn’t part of my reunion story. At some point, I stopped contacting them because it all became too much for me. This is where an intervention such as adoption-focused therapy would have been helpful. 

Some years passed and I turned the page on my adoption by quite literally ceasing to think about my adoption and pausing all the actions I had taken to learn about my origins during my twenties. I turned thirty, I got married and became a new father, and I wanted to focus on my new family in Brooklyn. I was also in graduate school, so juggling responsibilities was the theme starting in 2010. Since that time, a lot has changed.

Nowadays, I am divorced, I am co-parenting a budding teenager, and I have settled into a career as a college educator. As I moved into middle-age, I became more introspective, and I found myself interrogating some difficult feelings that felt like depression and anxiety. When I realised that I did not have easy answers to that line of inquiry, I began searching for ways to remove barriers to happiness that had started showing up. It started to dawn on me that my adoption may be the cause of some of my bad decisions in life and the source of a feeling of malaise that crept in every now and again. I remember once sitting on a beach in the Rockaways with my best friend and confidant of many years and reflecting out loud that I should look into therapy for adoption to try to answer some nagging questions. 

About six months after that conversation in 2021, I got around to doing some basic internet searching and was amazed by what I found. There was so much work that had been done in the intervening years since I started my search. As I previously mentioned, I went down a path of self-education, I engaged in some adoption-focused group therapy, and I have been attending online and in-person support groups made up of adoptees since that discovery. I have learned so much about myself and adoption since I started to reconnect to my adopted-self. Some of it has been difficult, but I am very happy to have opened myself up to feel, meditate, inquire, grieve, and build community. It is cliche, but I wish I knew during my reunion and prior what I know now. 

In short, I hope that adoptees who are on the bold path of searching and reuniting with first family will take careful, well-informed steps. I know from my experience that there are no easy answers, and reunion may be when many hard questions rise to the surface. However, that search for the discovery and recovery of self and identity is worth it all because even if one does not find first family, there is so much to learn about oneself along the way. 

I hope that adoptees take the time to explore all of the particular intersections of adoption and mental health including, but not limited to, the Primal Wound theory, the post-traumatic stress implications of adoption, ambiguous loss, and the Adoptee Consciousness Model. Most definitely read the two books by Verrier and Lifton previously mentioned. Check out Damon Davis’ podcast Who Am I Really?, and the two others previously mentioned. Read JaeRan Kim’s brilliant blog Harlow’s Monkey. If looking for a therapist in the U.S., check out Dr. Chaitra Wirta-Leiker’s adoptee therapist directory curated on her website Grow Beyond Words. If one does not have the money to pursue therapy, there are plenty of books, podcasts, and support groups that could provide information and resources helpful in informing decisions around searching, finding, and reunion with first family. Just start checking out all of the amazing resources on Lynelle Long’s comprehensive treasure of a website 跨国收养者的声音. Search on Facebook for a group you can join that holds online support groups, or, even better, search for a local group in your area to meet up in person with adoptees. A great place to search for a local group in the USA is on Pamela A. Karanova’s website Adoptees Connect

The above is just a cursory glance at some of the most salient resources I have found that have nourished my soul as I step into more consciousness about my adoption on my journey of self-discovery. My greatest hope is that someone reading these words may find something in them to hold onto. 

Coming Next: 寻找我在中国的家人


Search and Reunion in Intercountry Adoption


经过 玛丽亚迪玛, 出生于智利,后被瑞典收养;创办人 智利收养网站



作为 1970 年至 1980 年间在瑞典长大的跨种族跨国收养者,我觉得自己是实验的一部分。来自世界各国的孩子被安置在瑞典的家庭中,我们应该像“一张白纸”一样,就好像我们的人生故事是从瑞典的机场开始的。


我给妈妈写了一封信,就好像我只有 7 岁一样。我不知道我为什么这样做,但我用西班牙语写了这封信。



经过 仁埃瑟林顿, 出生为原住民加拿大人并被澳大利亚家庭收养


你离开这个星球已经34年了 .我多么希望我的一生都能遇见你。我不确定你最后一次见到我是什么时候。我敢肯定你不认为这是你最后一次见到我。我知道你们知道我的结局。我知道爸爸认识收养我的爸爸。

Kerry 和 Steve(妈妈和爸爸)是您见过的最了不起的两个人。我相信他们和你们一样,几乎被他们遇到的每一个人所喜爱。我三岁时从克里和史蒂夫那里得到了一个弟弟。他的名字叫乔什,我们小时候相处得很好。我们很少吵架。我喜欢认为这是我们个性的完美结合,也是由克里和史蒂夫抚养长大的。

你会很高兴知道我有一个美好的童年。我 7 岁时,我们有了另一个弟弟,名叫布罗迪。 BroBro 和我更像,因为我们都更善于交际,也更外向。乔什、布罗迪和我相处得很好。克里和史蒂夫以伟大的价值观抚养我们长大。我们在澳大利亚东海岸的 Theravada 冥想中心附近长大并搬家。我在那里遇到了一些很棒的孩子,我认为他们是表亲。我想如果我被收养了,我也可以收养我自己的家人。

我在童年时期遇到过一些困难,包括对种族主义的无情欺凌以及物化。无论我去哪里,它总是由一个名叫“约翰诺”的孩子 .我很幸运身边有坚强的朋友帮助我不让它毁了我的个性。

在我们成长的过程中,几乎每个假期都和全家一起度过,因为对他们来说,拥有大量的家庭时光很重要。我们度过了美好的假期露营,住在海滨大篷车公园,与家人一起参加了具有里程碑意义的世博会,如 88 年世博会,并住在一栋可爱的房子里。我们确实在加拿大度过了很多假期,因为史蒂夫的妈妈住在维多利亚。我知道克里对我的梦想是在我准备好时见到你。我知道她听到你死了的消息时很伤心。我很困惑。我一直都知道我是被收养的,因为我看起来与克里、史蒂夫、乔希和布罗迪不同。当我被问到是否想去参加你的葬礼时,我才 9 岁,不知道该如何处理,现在很后悔没有去那里。


有第三个人抚养我长大,她很棒。她是我的姨妈,娜内特。我非常爱她,她是一个不可思议的人。甚至在电话上没有来电显示之前,我总是知道她什么时候打电话。 Nanette 还在我的婚礼上出卖了我。我的婚礼是 20 年前的两天前。我嫁给的男人不是一个好人。我受到了他的很多虐待。相识10年后,我们幸运地分开了。我没有孩子,为此我接受了 12 个月的治疗。如果我有孩子,我很难接受。我无法想象你失去我是什么感觉,我很担心我会重温那种经历以及你的感觉。


我有很多想问你,想告诉你。我爱你们爸爸妈妈。我现在有一个美好的家庭——我的妈妈和爸爸(Kerry 和 Steve)、我的兄弟们、我的侄女和侄子以及我的伴侣 James。我的阿姨不幸去世了,但我很感激我有时间和她在一起。

阅读 Jen 之前的博客: 金钱永远无法弥补我作为原住民加拿大人所失去的一切



在加拿大无名墓中发现 200 多名被盗的原住民儿童



*Name has been changed to protect identity

经过 kim thompson / 김종예 born in South Korea, adopted to the USA, Co-Founder of 环球亚洲

This article was written for Finding the Truth of 372 Overseas Adoptees from Korea published in Korean

Artwork: Gone But Not Forgotten by Amelia Reimer

Dear Korea,

I want to tell you all about my friend Mia, but I am limited in how I can tell you her story as she is no longer here and cannot give consent to my re-telling of what is hers and hers alone.

And so, Korea, I will tell you about my experience and observations of her and of our friendship.

Mia was a fellow adoptee and my friend. We met in your city of Seoul around 2013 or 2014. I was in my fifth year of living there. Mia was, as is the case for many adoptees in Seoul, trying to learn your language and doing various freelance jobs related to writing and teaching English, as well as working as a journalist for publications in the country she had been adopted to and raised in. She was an immensely talented writer and photographer.

Mia was quirky. For example, she loved marshmallows more than any child or adult I have ever met. She loved them to the point of ecstasy–we used to laugh at how deliriously happy it made her to roast a marshmallow on a rotating spit over hot coals where we’d previously been cooking our 양꼬치 (lamb skewers). Mia was her own unique self. When it came to your food and cafes, Mia loved everything about you, but the fact that you could get marshmallows from 다이소 made her love you even more, even if they weren’t (according to her) quite the same as she could get in the country where she’d been raised. She laughingly said it made her life with you that much easier.

Mia was funny, kind, thoughtful, and incredibly generous both with her time and money. She once hunted down and gifted my then-partner and myself with two specialty sakés from Yoshida Brewery because we had told her how much we loved the documentary The Birth of Saké. She cared deeply for others, freely and easily expressed gratitude, and was just an all-around fun person to hang out with. She had a laugh that I can still easily recall.

Mia loved the band 넬(Nell) and used to, needlessly, thank me constantly for “introducing” them to her. “They’re sooooooo good~~~” she’d earnestly exclaim when talking about an album of theirs she’d been listening to on repeat. She was an intelligent, articulate, and creative mind who had a delightful hunger for life, art, travel, new experiences, and good food… and marshmallows.

Mia also had a very deep awareness and understanding of her mental health struggles and was as proactive as one could be about working to be healthy. She sought out the professional help she needed. She used her very real diagnosed depression as a positive in that she allowed it to make her an even more empathetic being, which was so evidenced in her professional career as a journalist and how she conducted her personal relationships. Mia had lived through traumas and tragedies that are all too common for adoptees and had profound sorrows and losses.

Korea, I am writing to tell you that Mia was such a good friend to many, including myself. She was genuinely interested in and curious about the lives of those around her. When one was with Mia, one felt seen, heard, loved, and cared for.

Four years have passed since she took her life, and I still and shall always love and miss her.

Something else I can tell you, Korea, with as much certainty as possible, is that if the adoption agency through whom she was exported from knew of her suicide they would quickly blame her adopters, her circumstances, her environment, her traumas, her mental health, and Mia herself. They would never think to own their responsibility in being the root cause for all of the “reasons” for why she felt she could no longer stay in her life or this world.

Korea, chances are, the agency would tell you that while it’s an unfortunate reality that “every so often” “bad” adopters manage to get through their system–that it’s a “rarity.” They would dig their heels in, feigning willful ignorance and dismissal over the well-researched and known statistic that adoptees are four times more likely to attempt or commit suicide than non-adoptees. They would tell you that they are not to be held accountable for Mia’s mental health, and that she should have gotten the help she needed. They would say that what happened to her is too bad, and I do not doubt that they would mean it, but they would in the same breath tell you that none of this is their fault.

And yet, Korea, it was the agency that placed Mia in the family she was raised in via a system that has been empowered and enabled on both societal and governmental levels to prioritize and value financial gain over keeping children with their ummas and appas. Mia’s physical and emotional safety and support she needed were not prioritized, nor were they valued.

The responsibility for her mental and physical wellness was placed directly onto her shoulders. The responsibility for her surviving her childhood; learning how to thrive; and later, as an adult, trying to adapt to life in Korea; to explore and embrace her cultural and racial identity; to try and learn the language; and to search or not to search for her first family were also all placed directly onto her shoulders. Mia’s birthright to family, culture, and identity had been sold right from under her without her consent when she was a baby, and she was then left to pay the price for someone else’s immense financial profit.

Dear Korea, I want… I need you to know that Mia, like so many adoptees including me, had to constantly navigate statements from the agency, adopters, and non-adoptees like: “You sound so bitter and angry. You should be more grateful.” “Your life is so much better than if you’d grown up an orphan in South Korea.” “You don’t know how poor South Korea was.” “You’re so lucky to have been raised in the West. Your life is so much better.”

I need you to know… to feel… to somehow understand that no matter how emotionally or mentally strong or proactive we as adoptees are in advocating for ourselves, no matter how “perfect” some of our adoptive parents might be, these kinds of statements, which embody attitudes and perceptions of denial, dismissal, and diminishing, take a toll on our mental health. They are forms of what is now known as “gas lighting.” They can cause us to question our sanity, goodness, love, gratitude, self, and sense of worth. They make us feel like we really might be ungrateful, unloving human beings who should be good with not knowing our parents, our ancestral roots, language, or culture because: “We got to grow up in the ‘rich’ West.” These are things that no adoptee I have ever known, myself included, is truly equipped to handle, and yet the responsibility to do so, is always on us.

I think about how all of this must have worn Mia down. I think about how even though she knew on an intellectual level that her traumas were never her fault, she bore the emotional toll.

Dear Korea, when Mia took her life, your citizens did not wail aloud in the streets wearing black and white. The adoption agencies operating on your soil that to this day export children to the West for financial profit did not fall to their knees asking the gods and Mia’s soul for forgiveness. 

The ones who were wailing, the ones left falling to their knees under the gut-wrenching sorrow and ache of Mia’s suicide were and remain the same ones who also live as survivors of adoption–us adoptees. You see, when any one of our 200,000 is lost to suicide or addiction or abuse, the loss is deep and the loss is a collective and a permanent one. Four years later, and I still feel the absence of her presence not just in my life, but also in this world.

I am writing you Korea, because it is imperative that you always remember that Mia’s decision to end her life was not her fault. Yes, she made that choice at the very end, but in so many ways that choice had been made for her the day her agency got their hands on her and sold and sent her away from your shores to her adopters.

是的,确实有可能,即使米娅能够在本应属于她的家庭和地方长大,她也会一直为自己的心理健康问题而苦苦挣扎。但是,我也有信心说,她很可能不会在 30 多岁时结束自己的生命,因为她不会有任何因被迫遗弃和收养而造成的创伤,无法承载她太大太美的心为了这个世界。





海外韩国收养者人权核实保障国际会议 (英韩翻译,对韩国跨国收养者进行的最大规模研究的研究概述)




RU OK Day? – 是时候谈论被收养者和自杀未遂了


经过 保罗布莱恩托维,英国国内被收养者和才华横溢的艺术家,被收养者倡导者, 2022 年全球匿名收养者调查

昨天,我正在为另一张“Dogpache”与两只 Dogohawks 跳舞的线条图片添加阴影,后来发现我的身体和手臂都在发炎……




生母在我 3 岁时离开了我,那个核心区域被后来对我身体的滥用所包围。早在 1940 年生母 7 岁时,她就认识她留给我的那个人。无论如何,我感受到了痛苦的感觉,但是另一个棱镜从一张卡住的嘴里返回.. 低沉的语言。保持安全……什么都不说……尽管有说话的压力……


疼吗?当它处于炎症阶段时是的……你打赌,因为身体隐藏着早期思想的一个古老的“谎言”,它仍然试图保护我免受恐惧......我现在不需要保护(可怜的自动大脑)事实上我需要成为我的全部.. 被我当成我.. 仅此而已..


这就是将未满足的需求(对妈妈)减少为可解决的悲伤和哭泣......“Mommmmeeeeeeee”......“HOwlllll”.. 我一直在缓慢地接受发生的事情,但发生的事情是经过许多痛苦扭曲的岁月.. 这就是为什么我仍然在艺术中与怪物交朋友,让他们哭泣,让风景也嚎叫 ..

OWWWWWLLLL OWWWWOOOOOO ......我喜欢嚎叫,它们释放了我早期被束缚在分离的情感监狱中的原始灵魂……我学会了像一个孩子一样悲伤,因为他不再悲伤了……我在这里……我已经到了……我的皮肤更好了,而且以一种更积极的方式感到悲伤,仅仅是因为悲剧是……  

Olivia Atkocaitis 不仅仅是小报头条

经过 玛雅贤休伊特, 从中国领养到英国。

我相信大多数阅读本文的人都会知道并理解 Olivia Atkocaitis 的“故事”。
我敢肯定,它会引发过于沉重且难以思考和处理的情绪和感受。或者在其他人看来,也许这与他们的现实和收养经历相去甚远,甚至无法考虑。我知道当 Lynelle 向我要这篇文章时,我真的没有足够的情感能力坐下来思考这个问题,更不用说写下来了。但我意识到她并不是在要求新闻报道和头条新闻,如前所述,足以理解奥利维亚所经历的事情的严重性,这不仅仅是她的故事,这是她的生活。作为跨国收养者,更大的图景和平台化我们的声音的呼吁变得更加重要,因为看看谁在平台化这种叙述,看看这些“故事”是如何成为头条新闻的。我们的声音、我们的经历、我们的叙述,它们值得更多地成为小报故事的一部分,而小报故事将作为一击成功的奇迹大卖。这些故事获得的关注引发了错误的问题,将愤怒引向了这些小报文章所提供的特殊性的微观镜头。

新闻中耸人听闻的问题在于,它不仅缺乏准确性、精确性和细节,它还从更大的画面中进行推断,从更广泛的背景中获取故事,并使它看起来如此牵强,以至于它几乎成为一个故事- 以新闻报道的形式创造奇迹。就像那些以朗朗上口的曲调声名鹊起的艺术家一样,他们令人难忘,他们偶尔会重新露面,然后成为家喻户晓的“他们现在在哪里”。收养的本质是交易性的,我已经就这个主题写了很多文章,但是我遇到的每一位记者都问我的经历,无论是我与出生国的重新联系,寻找我的亲生家庭,我的作为英籍华人在英国的经历,他们从来没有为我的情绪劳动提供经济补偿,他们不想听到真实性,他们想要一个新闻故事。所以我在 2018 年决定,没有人会为我写我的故事,我完全有能力写自己的故事。

呼吁采取行动,呼吁愤怒,呼吁强调收养系统的失败,这些还不够。作为跨国、跨种族的收养者,有足够多的内容可以引起注意和听到,但为什么在没有人在听的情况下费心说话。 Lynelle 是正确的,Olivia 值得她在我们的社区中占有一席之地,一个倡导的空间,一个构建她自己叙述的空间,我不会坐在这里为她构建。我不会呼吁采取行动、呼吁愤怒或呼吁改变,这是呼吁同理心。呼吁您坐在这里聆听跨国、跨种族收养者的心声。问题在于,“被收养者”或“被收养”这两个词本身就已经暗示了成年人的幼稚化,人们对我们说话就像我们不知道什么对我们最好一样。或者“幸运”或“感激”这些词四处乱扔,我们被告知“情况可能会更糟!”你怎么能把感激之情强加给像奥利维亚这样的人,像 赫胥黎·斯托弗 或者 德文特·哈特?你怎么能在不知道任何细节的情况下假设一个完整的画面呢?这就是白人至上主义在收养方面发挥的作用。这些系统不是为像我们这样的人建造的。 Olivia Atkocaitis、Huxley Stauffer、Devonte Hart 的头条新闻是故意耸人听闻的,旨在排除任何真实的细节或任何真实的信息,因为当读者陷入混乱、愤怒和燃烧时,你能为那些从裂缝中掉下来的人负责吗愤怒?





19 岁的女人起诉养父母“将她关在地牢里并把她当作奴隶”

Olivia Atkocaitis——被养父母违背她的意愿关押了 12 年多 (视频)



经过 莱拉中号, 在美国长大的中国收养者

“你脖子上的钥匙是什么?” – 我收到这个问题的次数与我被问及我来自哪里的次数一样多。


它说, ”团结就是爱,10.02.62” 一方面和 “公吨“ 在另一。








经过 卡米纳厅, 美国黑人、跨种族、后来发现的收养者

They say it’s their right, their right to create and own a life,
Interestingly enough, this is a perception as old as buying a wife.
Are we nothing more than cattle, to be traded and sold?
Or we are the light of the Universe, sent through her womb, more precious than gold?

Interesting the amount of studying and toiling that goes into obtaining degrees,
Yet, when forming life any and everyone is allowed to do as they please.
Change your mind, wrong color, or simply too young? 
With the swipe of a pen, that new soul changes hands, and their life comes undone.

I knew your heartbeat, your voice, your smell, all before I ever saw your face,
Though their arms might have attempted to replace you, no one ever took your place.
There was a dark empty yawning void in my soul I never knew existed,
Drugs, sex, alcohol, and self-sabotage; still the madness persisted.

Firmly we declare, you can’t own a life, and creating it isn’t your right,
The soul is simply in your care, on loan from the Universe, until it can fight its own fight.
Take seriously the implications and ripples you drop into the pond of life when creating,
Children we are for only a moment, adulting sees us with mounds of trauma sedating.

您可以在她的 Youtube 频道上关注 Kamina – 科奇卡米娜
Read Kamina’s other guests posts at ICAV:
Healing as a Transracial Adoptee


经过 卡米纳厅, 美国黑人、跨种族、后来发现的收养者






您可以在她的 Youtube 频道上关注 Kamina – 科奇卡米娜