Category Archives: international adoption
Adoptions Cost Money. That Is Not a Scandal.
Recently the New York Times published this article titled ‘ What I Spent to Adopt My Child: What 3 Couples Paid to Adopt.’ I thought the title about adoption fees was unnecessary.
Adoption, whether domestic or international requires money. Many adoptees are sensitive about discussing money and their adoption. The title seems inappropriate to me.
The main issues this article identifies could have easily been discussed with an alternative title.
I know some adoptees feel they were commodities in their adoptions. A title like this does not alleviate those concerns.
Continue readingThe Lack of Male Voices in Adoption Land
Someone on Twitter asked, ‘where are the male adoptee voices?’ I tweeted a few responses. Then I decided to write a blog post about why I think this is true.
As a male adoptee voice for the last decade, the number of men that I have met or hear about who are active in the space is tiny. This includes both adoptees and adoptive fathers.
Here are some reasons why;
- Women dominate the entire adoption industry. The heads of adoption agencies, the leaders of adoptive parent groups, the social workers, the academics studying adoption, the adoptee-led support groups, the adoptee bloggers, the list continues. Women lead most adoption groups.
- Adoption language targets women, birthmothers, adoptive mothers, etc. There is rarely a mention of biological fathers and minuscule focus on male adoptees. Furthermore, adoptive dads are not typically blogging about their family experiences.
- Though adoption is marketed and discussed as a family issue, it is mostly a women’s issue. Father’s are part of the story and may have huge impacts, but one sees them mostly posing in family pictures. They are rarely part of the adoption narrative. Sadly, I feel they are usually ornaments, conveying stability and safety in their families.
- Male adoptees are not raised to discuss and explore their feelings. Historically men have no outlet to unpack their complicated emotions because vulnerability is perceived as weak.
Trump’s Evangelical Supporters and Foreign Adoption
I frequently come across white evangelical Christians who are ardent proponents of international adoption and also strong Trump supporters. And the data seems to back up this personal experience: nearly 80 percent of evangelical Christians voted for Donald Trump for President and numbers show that large segments of the evangelical Christian population support foreign adoption.
Many of these individuals feel that they have a special calling for foreign adoption, believing they need to “rescue” babies across the globe.
They push this narrative, raising money for campaigns to create “forever families” with children from other nations through adoption. These endeavors tug at heartstrings with poignant stories of their infertility and their desire to make a difference. But, some continually, and wholeheartedly support or minimize the everyday vitriol this presidential administration spews about immigrants, legal or otherwise.
That is top-rate hypocrisy. And I am sick of it.
Trumpers tout their Bible bona fides, while also backing Trump’s caustic rhetoric about immigrants and the stranger. The two are incompatible. When Trump calls Mexicans racists and worse, your defense should not be “he got Neil Gorsuch on the Supreme Court…I do not like him personally, but that seat was crucial.” Nor is it an acceptable response to say “well I don’t agree with many of his stands morally, but he’s a true conservative and has our interests at heart.”
They talk a big game about all-encompassing love, yet at the same time, they will not welcome the outsider. While they believe it’s their God-given mandate to build a family through foreign adoption. That mindset makes no sense to me.
They must not see the disconnect between the words “When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not mistreat them. The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in Egypt. (Leviticus 19:33-34)” and Trump’s or Attorney General Jeff Sessions’ language used to describe poor, desperate asylum seekers from the Middle East or Central and Latin America. Yet for me, this contrast is glaring.
Those escaping Libya, Syria, Somalia, Honduras, Guatemala, and other areas mired in war, famine, natural disaster, and/or poverty are leaving some of the most dangerous environments on earth. They have already experienced nearly unimaginable suffering.
The Christian right waxes glowingly about love, yet has no problem with kids languishing in border detention facilities, ripped from their parents whose only crime was seeking a better future for themselves and their families.
This is all fine, as long as we “own the libs,” they say. What a twisted way to think.
Then they turn around and pen a blog-post about how thrilled they are to adopt a child from overseas and are fervently praying for God to smooth the paperwork process so he/she can be added to their family.
What happened to biblical compassion and empathy?
We can and should debate immigration policy, but there should be absolutely 100 percent revulsion and disgust, especially amongst “Christians” about how Trump talks about immigration.
I wonder if they realize that through adoption, they are bringing a legal immigrant into the US to be a citizen. Yet they vigorously defend Trump’s arbitrary ending of DACA and remain silent as he uses kids’ lives as bargaining tools, pushing false accounts about crime and immigration.
If they cannot love someone different from them – in language, dress, culture or other variations – they should not adopt a child internationally.
The zealot’s absolute refusal to repudiate Trump means they tacitly agree with a racist President, and his Attorney General and closest advisors. Nevertheless, they plan to bring a non-white baby into their family. Newsflash: if you adopt internationally, then you are increasing your family through legal immigration.
They remain silent about racist and xenophobic policies deliberately targeting those who look different from them, yet desire a multi-racial family.
How will they teach their children about race and adoption? I do not believe it is fair to an adopted child to remove them from their birth culture and then further strip them of any chance to learn about their origins. Many evangelical adopters believe they need to “save” foreign babies not only physically, but spiritually and show them Christianity.
But how multi-cultural will that family be? It would be quite sanctimonious to celebrate their child’s non-American culture while holding opinions about “other” cultures and their inferiority. So, I am guessing that will not happen in their family. How does a fervent Trump supporter square their immigration policies and views about people who look different from them with having a family member who does not resemble them at all?
When someone says something offensive to them or to their child, how will they react?
Maybe the comments will be words they themselves said or supported others uttering. Being a part of a mixed race family brings specific challenges and yet it is an opportunity to build bridges and explore racial issues like white privilege.
If the adoptive family raises their family in a healthy way, adoption can assist families to embrace tangible multi-culturalism. In my own family, we have a beautiful blend of different cultures and a richer overall experience.
I believe in second chances and that we are all flawed humans. But if one consistently supports the vile anti-diversity talk arising from this administration’s policies, while also maintaining deeply held beliefs about the “justness” of foreign adoption, then you have not really changed.
The Apostle Paul said to obey the laws, but Jesus said to love the stranger because whatever you do “to the least of these, you do to me.”
The pro-Trump evangelical community supporting foreign adoption would do well to remember that.
I Renounced my Indian Citizenship to Get a Visa
We are spending Christmas in India this year. It’s time for Sonali to meet Sasmita’s family. But visiting India requires a visa.
I’ve received multiple Indian visas in the last 10 years. The process requires many documents but is straightforward. I thought it would be simple this time as well.
I could not have been more wrong.
The Indian government contracted out their visa services to a company called Cox and Kings. To secure a visa, you must start an application on their website. I began the form and answered the question about where I was born. That brought another question, ‘what was your previous nationality?’ I chose India and then came two new questions.
‘Have you renounced your Indian citizenship?’ and ‘Do you have a Certificate of Renunciation from the Embassy of India?”The answer to both questions was ‘no’.
In January 2017, the Indian government changed the rules. India no longer allows dual citizenship. If anyone has ever held an Indian passport no matter how long ago, they must renounce their citizenship and turn in their passport.
The application asked if I possessed my original Indian passport. I don’t have it, which required a sworn Affidavit of its loss.
I was born in 1979 and received an Indian passport in 1980 when I was adopted to the US. It was only valid for six months. I’ve never considered myself an ‘Indian Citizen’ since I left India when I was one year old. My Indian passport says my birth name, Joseph. But no middle or last name is listed.
I’m 38 years old. My Indian passport expired 37 years ago. In 1981 I became a Naturalized citizen and legally changed my name from Joseph to Adam.
The Indian government was refusing me a 10-Year Tourist Visa unless I renounced my Indian citizenship.
I thought the situation was lunacy, but it got worse.
The application asked questions about my birth mother and father. Again, I don’t know anything about them. After finishing the online forms I printed them and realized a problem.
I wrote ‘NA’ in the last name field for all the questions about my Indian origins, and the application program had automatically input ‘Bryant’, my legal last name.
Both the Affidavit of Loss and the Renunciation Certificate said ‘Joseph Bryant.’
That has never been my legal name.
A bureaucratic nightmare was unfolding.
I called C&K multiple times explaining my dilemma, but they said it would be ok. They encouraged me to write an explanatory note to the Indian Embassy describing my unique conundrum. As sweet as they were on the phone, I knew they were clueless. It was going to be a huge problem.
The Affidavit of Loss form must be notarized. However, because ‘Joseph Bryant’ is not my legal name, I was unable to do so. Notaries cannot process documents if the person is not using their legal name for liability purposes. Without a notarized Affidavit, I could not submit my paperwork for an Indian Visa.
In addition to the Affidavit and the Renunciation forms, I presented documentation of my legal name change, proof of Indian origin, my Naturalization certificate, and provided my parents’ names, birth dates, and place of birth.
Naturally, I used my adoptive parent’s information, because I know nothing about my biological parents. The web application kept giving me errors. If I indicated I was a former Indian citizen, why were my parents US nationals, with no mention of their Indian nationalities?
It was as if the Indian government never considered the possibility that an Indian national infant would be adopted by US citizen parents and visit India later.
Stuck in notorious Indian paperwork purgatory, my frustration grew daily.
I went to my visa appointment, bringing all the documents needed. I included the unnotarized Affidavit and hoped to explain my situation to the Visa officer, wishing for the best.
As expected, they would not accept the application without the notarized Affidavit form. I reiterated my problem with the name and the impossibility of the form being notarized using a non-legal name.
Expressing my frustration, I told them that this was their problem because I had followed every direction, there was nothing else I could do.
The visa officer called his supervisor, and I explained the problem to him. After listening to my story he told me to wait and quickly returned with a hard-copy hand fillable Affidavit of Loss form.
I wrote ‘Joseph’, left the last name blank and got the Affidavit notarized. Returning to the processing center an hour later they accepted my application.
I had pleaded with the phone representatives for hours about sending a blank form to fill out, rather than using their web form. They repeatedly told me it was a computer program issue. After showing my displeasure in person with the process, voila! I received a blank hand-fillable form. Though the saga was complete, the process left a bitter taste.
60 hours I spent, securing a visa, between filling out applications, resubmitting paperwork, explaining my situation over the phone and traveling back and forth between my work and the Cox and Kings processing center.
The victory was eventually mine, but not without a huge amount of effort and energy. I was once again reminded how lucky I am to live in the United States because that paperwork maze is not the norm here, but is well-known in India.
Even If I Could Find my Birthmother – Fear Prevents Me
For most of my life, I’ve said I am fine without knowing my birth/first mother. That is untrue.
The reality is somewhere in the middle. Pondering my roots is not keeping me awake at night, but I do wonder about my beginnings more often than I’ve previously admitted.
I am curious to know anything about my biological family. But I’m unwilling to sacrifice the enormous amount of time, energy, and emotional labor to find them.
My Birth Hospital Kerala
As a speaker and writer in the adoption space for nearly a decade, the birthmother quest is one of the triumvirates of the international adoption arena. The other ones are: Have you returned to your birth country? And how was adoption discussed in your house growing up?
People consistently ask if I’ve met my birthmother, or hope to find her. I’m 38 years old and terrified to search.
The woman who raised me and who I call ‘Mom’ is one of my best friends. I love her immensely and cannot imagine any mother loving me more than she does.
I wonder about my first mother sometimes, but searching for and finding her is a scary thought. The woman who birthed me has been absent from my life for almost its entirety.
Finding my biological mother requires sifting through reams of historical records because the only identifying information in my passport is one name;
Joseph.
There is no last name or middle name. The address recorded is the foundling home where I lived until adoption. My adoptive Dad is listed as my ‘Father.’ No records exist about my biological father.
How could I search using such paltry information? Any birth record, if a hospital kept them, would be in my native tongue, Malayalam. Examining the logistics involved (staying long-term, finding readers of Malayalam and good English speakers, to direct me, ask questions etc.) would be a supremely daunting task.
Kerala is the size of Switzerland with a population of 35 million people.
My parent’s feelings would not be hurt if I searched. If I sought her, they would not see my wish to find her as a threat. Their attitude would be the opposite. I’m sure they would encourage me, support my quest and ask many questions during the process. They’ve always worked creating an emotionally healthy and transparent adoption experience for me and my siblings.
Once, I had a ‘birthmother’ hole that I longed to fill. I still do, but the void has lessened with my daughter Sonali’s birth. I don’t feel a gnawing for a biological connection anymore.
For much of my life, I pretended that I didn’t care.
But that was insincere. I respect my birthmother and wish her the best, wherever she might be. I think about her on Mother’s Day, my birthday and my adoption anniversary.
But I have no idea what I’d say to her if we actually met. When I run through the possible scenarios in my mind, some meetings are horrible and others are wonderful.
We could have a beautiful reunion. It’s possible we would get along splendidly, both respecting boundaries, developing a deep and lasting relationship. We might be able to ‘make-up’ for the lost lifetime away from one another.
Or it could be dreadful.
What if she does not want to know anything about me? Maybe she’d resent me for inserting myself back into her life. Possibly she’d reject me as an adult, cursing me for finding her. She might begrudge my American life, constantly ask for money, and use my position as her child to gain emotional leverage over me. These are not outlandish reunion scenarios. I’ve heard of them happening to other adoptees.
I’ll never know what the exact storyline might be.
Thinking about the added drama knowing my past would bring into my life is intimidating. Through much of my existence, I’ve viewed meeting my biological mother as a cost-benefit analysis. Would I gain as much finding her, as I would potentially give up by having my life upended so viscerally?
The answer for me is a resounding no. It’s too jarring and I’ll just live without knowing.
For many adoptees, finding their birth mother or father is of paramount importance. I’m still exploring how important it is for me.
I waffle about wanting to know my origins and I don’t know where I would begin. If I could salve the wound in my life, forever answering the missing part of my narrative I’d think about it. But finding her would be nearly impossible.
I visited the hospital of my birth in 2011. It was a powerful emotional experience.
It was the closest I’ll ever be to my birth mother and I am coming to peace with that.
I saw the adoption epic Lion. I was underwhelmed.
I put off watching Lion for months now, afraid it would be too emotional for me. I’d built it up, heard so many other adoptees and non-adopted folks gush about it, say how gut wrenching it was and how I ‘had’ to see it.
Purposely, I stayed away from all reviews of it and only knew it was a true story. I was excited to watch it as an Indian adoptee.
Saroo Brierley is the main character (played by Dev Patel) and his story has similarities to mine. An adopted Indian kid, raised outside of India, by a white family and he seems well-adjusted.
Finally, an adoption story about India, not Korea, Russia or China. And it was critically acclaimed as well, nominated for six Academy awards.
Here in front of millions of people, the actors would voice struggles and thoughts about identity, loss, and culture, that myself and other international adoptees have ourselves.
We’d receive validation. People would see Saroo’s difficulties and hear the same ones I’ve had my whole life as well.
That’s what I thought about before I saw it. I was disenchanted.
Yes, I loved the movie. I thought it was fantastic. I’d recommend you see it if you haven’t. And I’m glad I watched it.
But, emotionally, there was something missing for me. Even as I type this, I’m trying to ‘will’ a sentimental response to the movie and I can’t. I’m numb.
I hesitate writing that because it feels like a betrayal of the adoptee experience. I can only imagine what people would say, if I, as an adopted Indian guy said I hated the movie. The backlash would be intense.
My divergence with the majority of the adoptee community about Lion doesn’t invalidate my opinion. I haven’t lost my influence (whatever I have) as an adoptee speaking about my story and thoughts as a person adopted internationally.
That surfaces another problem with the adoptee community; we aren’t monolithic in thoughts or deeds. But there is an unwritten code that says we should all agree on certain things. For example, some adoptees are vocal about non-adoptees seeing them all as one, but yet when an adoptee themselves voices a different opinion they can be ostracized. The hypocrisy is not lost on me.
I must be one of the only people who viewed it without tears.
Even now, writing this, I’m not sure what to say about it, but I’ll try.
1) It’s a lovely film. The story is heart-wrenching and beautiful. The acting is top-notch. Dev Patel has never been better and Nicole Kidman, who plays his adoptive mother is wonderful as well. That it’s a true story makes it more compelling.
2) The adoption experience for me, as one adopted as an infant, is much different from Saroo. I cannot imagine leaving the world that I actually knew, familiar with its sounds, sites, smells, people and culture and being adopted when I was six or seven years old. I left India before I could walk. While the sounds of Malayalam were familiar to me on a basic level, leaving India was not the upheaval for me, as it was for Saroo.
3) The images and scenes which resonated the most for me had nothing to do with adoption, but more the life of poverty and squalor depicted in the film. That surprised me. I thought for sure the lines about ‘my real parents’ and others regarding the adoption experience would tug the most at my heart, but that wasn’t the case. I was more drawn to the downtrodden, marginalized and exploited, the scenes of hopelessness and despair aroused emotions for me.
The problem about the film is this; for me, a movie is truly amazing, if it evokes an emotional response. But Lion didn’t do that.
I’m going to watch it again and see if this changes, but I doubt it will. I also judge a film’s greatness by how much I’m thinking about it immediately after watching and then the days afterward.
Again, it didn’t pass this test either. I didn’t consciously think about it, except for realizing that I should write a blog post about not having feelings.
My mind was not rehashing scenes that I observed. The movie didn’t invade my thoughts as others have, where I could not stop thinking about it.
None of that happened with Lion and I’m unsure why.
Adoptees Grow Up, Stop Treating Us Like Perpetual Children!
I’ve become more aware of the infantilization of adult adoptees, due to my work with the Adoptee Rights Campaign to give adoptees US Citizenship. The Adoptee Citizenship Act fills a loophole in the Child Citizenship Act of 2001, which gave all international adoptees US citizenship age 18 and younger.
A common question I receive is ‘why is there an age limit of 18 for the original bill?’ As far as I know, it’s because the CCA was championed by adoptive parents (APs) who followed a historical pattern; viewing adoptees as children and never as adults.
I Took a Privilege Walk. Here’s what I Thought.
In early February of 2017, I participated in a ‘Privilege Walk.’
It’s an exercise examining an individual’s levels of privilege or disadvantage. I had finished speaking on an adoption panel and Sue Orban, the panel moderator asked all of us to participate.
Each question requires the person to step forward or backward depending on their answer. It’s popular because it demonstrates the intermingling of privilege and benefits.
The differences are one’s people don’t think about consciously. Or are culturally ingrained and unnoticeable.
In other words, everyday advantages we don’t realize we have.
Here’s a Privilege Walk video.
The value is in both examining one’s opportunities in relationship to those around you and thinking about your own privilege. Questions are tailored specifically regarding, gender, class, sexual orientation, mental wellness, and physical ability. For our drill, the questions combined some the above, plus specific adoption-related ones.
At its conclusion, you realize, everyone experiences both privilege and marginalization. The questions are based on Peggy McIntosh’s book White Privilege: Unpacking the Knapsack.
It’s a non-confrontational method analyzing inequalities along a host of social, ethnic and cultural normative spectrums.
Everyone begins on the same line and you notice, though you may think you were similar to the person next to you, their life experiences may be starkly different.
Here are some of the questions;
- I can choose bandages in flesh color that more or less matches my skin.
- The culture of my ancestors was studied in elementary school.
- I usually see members of my race and ethnic group portrayed on television in a positive light.
- I or my ancestors made a choice to come to America.
- I have never spent any time in a foster home, homeless, or an orphanage.
- When I go to the doctor, I can share my family’s medical history.
- I am aware of all my siblings.
- I can shop in any store without fear of being followed.
- I received vaccinations that were timely and stored properly.
- I was born into a family with access to medical care.
For our version of this exercise, we used a game board and very small cut-outs that resembled feet which we moved up and down on a grid, all starting from the same point.
Sue asked questions about ourselves and our children or the ones people were adopting. We moved the two different feet on the ladder forward and backward according to our answers.
Since this was an adoptee panel, the purpose was viewing the privileges of the adoptive family, which their future child did not have.
I answered questions for myself and Sonali. At the end of the exercise, I saw a clear delineation between my experiences and all the privileges in her life. If Sasmita was doing the drill, the differences would be even greater.
Unfortunately, conducting it this way, I did not experience one its core objectives, seeing my privilege or marginalization compared to people next to me.
But I tasted the concept.
It was a good reflective exercise contemplating the many advantages and disadvantages I have as an Indian adoptee growing up in the United States. I am privileged because even though I’m brown-skinned, I was raised in a white, middle-class neighborhood. A lot of their privilege extends to me.
For an everyday example, take Band-Aids. I’d guess that nearly all non-minorities I know never thought about a Band-Aid’s color. But for myself and minorities, it’s always annoyed us that they don’t blend with our skin. You always know if I’m wearing a Band-Aid because it contrasts with my skin.
One drawback to the questions was their black and white nature. There was no room for a gray area. The answers to some questions are complicated. I understand the reason for the straightforward format, but it makes answering some questions more difficult.
There was a question about wanting for food. I answered what I remember. But what I don’t know is whether I lacked food before my adoption. I could only answer from the time I was adopted and onwards.
And not all the answers have to do with privilege on their face. Some were based on proper planning or parental choices. But keep digging deeper and choice itself for many is a privilege.
Most of the benefits we receive are invisible, but they are no less powerful or helpful in our lives. The Privilege Walk drill, helped me view them afresh.
Have any of you participated in this exercise? Please share your thoughts.
If My Adoption Story is ‘Valuable’ to You, then Pay Me for Telling it.
My wife and I were driving somewhere recently and began talking about Bill and Hillary Clinton’s speaking fees, between $150,00 and $300,000 dollars. Regardless of your politics, I think we can all agree that $300,000 dollars to speak is outrageous. There probably is not a single one of you who wouldn’t take even half that amount to share their experiences and expertise. I know I would.
Of course, adoptees are not giving speeches discussing their lives as a President of the United States or the former Secretary of State and while our stories may be unique and special, let’s be honest, they are not remotely on the level of a former leader of the free world.
However, there seems to be a general principle applying to other professionals, but not adoptees; they are compensated for speaking publicly and we are usually not. read more …
Adoptees Inch Closer to US Citizenship and We Need Your Help!
Thousands of intercountry adoptees lack US citizenship. But there are two bi-partisan bills, in the House and Senate that would end this travesty.
The Adoptee Rights Campaign (ARC), a coalition of adoptees and advocates launched our Family is MORE than DNA campaign!
This postcard campaign, features a picture collage of adoptive families and our goal is to send 35,000 to Congressional offices during October and November to remind them to of the bill’s importance.
Adoption Campaign Postcard
Please visit www.adopteerightscampaign.org and sign a postcard! You can send up to five postcards; to your two Senators, your Congressional Representative and the Chairmen of the House and Senate Judiciary Committees.
We hope to get his legislation passed before the November elections and we need your help!
People across the country are filling out hardcopy postcards at events and through the online link. Visit our Facebook page to see more.
After being laid off in late March, I became more involved working with the ARC. What a learning experience it’s been and what a privilege to represent adoptees before Congressional staff.
The ARC spent the summer educating staffers about the bi-partisan Senate and House bills and their details. For each Hill visit, we began asking staff about their familiarity with the legislation and if they had specific questions. We received a variety of responses to those two questions. Some had read the Bill, while others had worked for members heavily involved in children’s welfare, adoption or something similar and had very specific questions. Unfortunately, a few never heard of the bill, and knew nothing about it.
As expected, many Republican offices we visited equated the bill with an immigration agenda. We acknowledged that people mistakenly lumped it into the immigration debate, but we did our best to reorient it away from immigration and towards, human rights, ‘righting’ a wrong, family preservation, family values, etc. The ACA is not about letting anyone new into the country, the adoptees benefitting from it, have been here for decades and consider the US their home.
Our first Day of Action on April 21 2016 was so successful, that a few weeks later, House members drafted a companion bi-partisan Adoptee Citizenship Bill. It was exciting to know that our direct actions, advocates across the country calling their Congressional representatives and a coordinated social media campaign convinced the House advocates to officially sponsor a bill as well.
Working off the momentum of the first day of action led to another Day of Action on June 14, 2016, this time with coverage by NBC Asian America and this piece in the Huffington Post.
Let’s get citizenship for adoptees! This injustice has gone all too long.
Babies and Language; a Personal Story
Recently my mother and I had a conversation about infant children and language.
She was excited to see that her youngest grandson, barely one-year-old, recognized her voice. She recently returned from a trip to visit my brother’s family in Denver, Colorado and was ‘Skyping’ with them.
It was remarkable to her, she said, how much his little brain processed at one year old. Then she told a story about me at one-year-old that is one of her favorites.
A few months after my arrival in the United States in 1980, my parents and I visited an Indian couple. They were from Kerala, the Indian state where I was born, and spoke Malayalam, my birth language.
My mom and I were in another part of the house, within earshot of this couple. They both spoke Malayalam. My mom says, she never saw me turn my head faster in my life. Apparently, my head whipped around immediately at the sound. Though I could not speak the language, I recognized the tone instantly.
Though I could not speak the language, I recognized the tone instantly.
Sadly, a few months later, my parents and I visited this couple again. But this time I made no indication that their language was something familiar.
I relay that story because it’s both sad and amazing.
Incredible because even at that age, little babies pick up the different tones in spoken languages. Sad, because I wasn’t able to recognize my birth language less than a year later.
I’m 36 years old now and gave up speaking my native language. And frankly, I don’t consider it ‘worth’ it to learn. I have no family there, and no Keralite friends close enough either geographically or emotionally to speak with. It also would do little to bolster my job marketability.
At one point I wanted to learn Malayalam because I thought I’d become more Indian. However, I’m not involved with the South Indian community here in Washington, D.C. and barely with the Indian community at large.
Sasmita speaks Hindi and Oriya, not Malayalam so it wouldn’t make sense from that standpoint either.
As fatherhood looms, I’m thinking a lot of about language, and how my child will be greatly advantaged because Sasmita is a polyglot.
She’s already told me that she will teach our child both her native language Oriya and Hindi. Maybe I’ll try to learn either language when our child’s formally learning.
You may wonder what Malayalam sounds like, here’s a clip. I cannot imagine speaking this language at my stage of life.
I’ll impart other knowledge to my child, and leave the foreign languages to Sasmita. Or maybe I’ll be the one who teaches them ‘pig latin.’
Facing Fatherhood as an Adoptee
Our little ‘pumpkin’ arrives June 2016
Sasmita and I will be parents in early June of 2016! We are excited, but not ready to be parents. Then again, who is?
We told my parents during Thanksgiving and called her folks in India, via Skype shortly afterwards, sharing our happy news across the globe.
As I contemplate Fatherhood, thoughts of my own beginnings are surfacing more than usual.
Our child will be the first person I know personally with whom I share DNA and blood. Sasmita will give birth to my first biological connection in nearly 36 years. read more …
A Small Thank You to my Parents this Thanksgiving 2014
For those unaware, this is National Adoption Awareness Month. There has been a lot of social media about this, some good pieces in well-known magazines, like the NY Times and elsewhere. National Adoption Month, was created to raise awareness and celebrate foster care adoption. In recent years it has been co-opted by the Adoption lobby and by those painting all adoptions as the greatest thing that ever happened to families, while omitting adoptee voices and the heartbreak and loss inherent in the process.
A group of adoptees developed a campaign called #flipthescript doing their best to counter the rose-colored glasses view. I am participating, as the attempt offers thoughts on our personal adoption narratives, because adoptees themselves are not the ones people usually hear from.
That is one of the reasons I began blogging years ago. I thought my voice, as a male, Indian adoptee, deserved hearing, and I still believe that is true. However, since I began writing I realized my adoption story is quite different from other adoptees.
I choose to celebrate my adoption because my parents, David and Robyne Bryant, understood all sides of the adoption narrative and raised us with that knowledge. Some adopted friends and colleagues had negative experiences with their parents/guardians regarding adoption. I was not one of them.
A quick aside, I do not and have never called the two people who adopted me, my adoptive parents. They are my parents. Period. I understand that a different woman gave birth to me, but she is my first/birth mother. I rarely call her my mother.
Some adoptees have tough stories of coming to their new country, and being adopted by families who disavowed they had a birth mother and father or came from another culture. I have no experience with that. While I lost some Indian culture through adoption, my parents worked and sacrificed to keep me tethered to it throughout my life.
I’m dedicating this post to them for all they did creating the best experience for me growing up adopted. read more …