Last year I had the opportunity to work with
Mrs R, an adoptive mother who writes at
The R House. It was a great chance for both of us to learn about perspectives and experiences wildly different than our own (the interviews can be found
here and
here). This year
Heather has done a great job yet again. I had the pleasure of getting to know Jenn, an adult adoptee. She is candid in her discussion of searching for her origins, making meaning of her experiences, and both the beauty and ugliness of adoption. She is very active in the online community, both on her
blog and as a regular contributor to
Lost Daughters.
Please introduce yourself to readers who may not be familiar with your blog.
For
starters, my name is Jenn. I’m twenty-five years old, and I was
adopted as an infant. When I was twenty-one, I started seriously
searching for my natural family members. Once I made up my mind to
really search, it took less than twenty-four hours to find my natural
parents thanks to the wonderful Internet. I reached out to my natural
mother and we started emailing back and forth. Just under a year later I
reached out to my natural father and started to get to know him.
I've since met both parents and my two sisters recently found out about
me. I’m currently getting to know the two of them and we’re all
learning how to fit into each other’s lives. I’m also living at home
with my adoptive parents and my adoptive sister, something that adds
other challenges to the mix as well.
What got you started blogging? What keeps you coming back? Is there a disparity there worth exploring?
I
started blogging after my reunion experience with my natural mother
feel apart. Things with my natural father were going wonderfully, but I
was in a rough place because I was trying to balance my fear and
excitement. It was a hard time for me and I looked online for support.
I’d been following several adoptees on their blogs for a few months and
figured that maybe it would help me to write about what I was going
through. I was never successful at journaling because there was no
accountability. By blogging, I felt as though I owed my readers a blog
post every day. I’m an all or nothing sort of girl so I just sort of
jumped in. I kept coming back because it helped. I could go back and
read what I was thinking and feeling and see the progress. My readers
give me valuable feedback and insights. I had the opportunity to meet
some of my readers which inspired me to keep going. I think I started
it for me, and while I still blog for me, it’s become something more at
this point.
You obviously read quite a few adoption blogs. Can you talk about
why you read the blogs you do (individual blogs and/or categories of
blogs)?
The first few blogs that I started reading were
adoptee blogs. They were people who had been through something similar
and I devoured their stories. As much as it stunk that someone else had
gone through something so horrible, there was something comforting in
the fact that I wasn't alone. And I was able to hope when people wrote
about the good things. If they could be happy and functioning humans
after rejection, I could get there too someday. After I started
blogging, I had several natural mothers start commenting on my blog. I
wanted to get to know my readers better so I started reading their
blogs, which opened up a whole new category for me. I started to see
where my natural mother might be coming from. She may not feel the same
way as these women, but I started to see that there were shades of grey
from these amazing women. Last year during this interview project I
was paired up with an adoptive parent. I loved her story and her blog
and loved how she was doing her part to learn about what her daughter
might go through someday. So I now read several adoptive parent blogs,
especially the ones who focus on listening to adult adoptees and
constantly educate themselves on adoption related issues in case their
child ever experiences them.
Has blogging (as a writer or a reader) significantly affected
your thoughts/feelings on adoption in general, or your personal adoption
experience?
My thoughts and feelings have shifted over
time. I’m much more educated now that I used to be. For example, I
never thought about the language that I use to describe adoption before.
I've since read several very well written blog posts about why certain
language is offensive and the history behind it. I've since altered my
language. I used to not see a problem with adoption. I
personally didn't have a problem obtaining a passport. Blogging as
taught me it’s a legitimate concern for other adoptees. I've learned
from them about problems that exist in the system. Before I started
blogging, I couldn't tell you what an original birth certificate was and
I had no idea mine was sealed. This past year I joined a demonstration
in the fight to open records. I've learned and grown as I've been
reading and blogging. My ideas have shifted and I've become more
comfortable with my stance. There will always be grey and I appreciate
it. But I've see firsthand some of the wrongs and I think that we owe
it to ourselves and future adoptees to find ways of fixing the system.
A good start to that would be opening records.
You have described your adoption as being good but difficult. Can you expand on this apparent duality?
I
love my adoptive parents and my adoptive family. I had a fairly normal
childhood. I got a great education, found some amazing friends, and
have experienced some amazing things. I've met the most amazing guy in
the world I’m going to marry next year. I love who I am as a person and
I know that some of the great qualities I love about myself have come
from my adoptive parents since being in reunion. Being adopted has
always been a part of who I am and I do believe it’s helped to shape me
as a person. Growing up, I was more tolerant of other’s differences
because I didn't know what my own background was. I grew up in a
wealthy town but the reason I’d been given for my adoption was that my
natural mother was young and poor. It was hard for me to judge those
will less in my town because I came from a place that had decidedly
less. I think that way of growing up had its merits. On the other
hand, I wish I hadn't been adopted in an abstract way. I wish I had
grown up around people I looked like. I wish I had parents who said “I
was just like you at that age!” I wish my personality lined up more
with the people who raised me. I would have loved to grow up knowing
about my ethnic background and knowing my family history. A family
medical history would have drastically altered my childhood. That’s not
to say that I wish I’d grown up with my natural parents. Who knows
what my life would have been like if I’d been raised by them? It might
have been better, it might have been worse. It would have been a
different life. I’m sure if I was the girl I would have been if I’d
been raised by them, I’d say I couldn't imagine growing up any other
way. But I’m not that girl. I’m me, the person raised by my adoptive
family and the person who grew up with many missing puzzle pieces. So
while my life is actually good, I wish I hadn't had to face so many
challenges and go through pain in reunion in order to get to this
particular place.
Is there anything you wish you could tell every adoptive parent?
Two
things. First, be honest and upfront from day one. Sometimes the
truth hurts. Sometimes the situation it really unpleasant. And I
understand 100% that you want to protect your children. But when we
don't know the truth, adoptees often fill in the blanks. If you asked
me what I thought of my natural parents when I was ten, I would have
told you they were probably crack heads or something. That's what I
thought because my adoptive parents never sat down and explained my
situation to me. My natural parents are actually upstanding members of
the community. They are both active in their church, raised two amazing
daughters, and are pretty neat people. My parents didn't know
everything, but they did know some things that would have helped. My
natural father was in the army. That single piece of knowledge would
have gone a long way while I was growing up. Second, listen. I didn't
tell my adoptive parents about what I was going through. I wanted to
protect them from my feelings because I didn't think I had a right to
feel the way that I did. Most of the time I was a happy go lucky kid,
but sometimes thoughts about those crack head parents I had invaded my
mind. Kids on the playground can be mean. So when I did actually talk
about things, I needed my adoptive parents to listen. For the most
part, they did, but I think that's something that every adoptive parent
has to work extra hard at. Even know when I'm in reunion, I need my
adoptive parents to listen to me and hear what I'm saying. When I tell
them that it's not about them, it's about me, I need them to hear it.
When I tell them that I need them to just let me vent about the
process, I need them to let me instead of trying to get me to see things
from the other side. So adoptive parents need to be honest with their
children from the beginning and to listen to what their children are
saying, even when they are adults.
Is there anything you wish you could tell every first parent?
At
some point, my natural parents walked away. They may have had
excellent reasons for doing so. And my adoptee brain understands those
reasons. My adoptee brain was able to forgive my natural parents for
walking away a long time ago. I don't agree with all their reasons, but
I understand why they did it. The thing is, my adoptee heart still
feels like they walked away and that hurts. No matter how good the
reasons were, my adoptee heart still hurts from time to time. Sometimes
I get mad about it. Sometimes I need space to get over it. None of
these things have anything to do with the actual reasons themselves. So
when these times roll around (and I think they do for a lot of
adoptees), I know that for me, I just need a little understanding. I
need my natural parents to not get defensive and understand that no
matter what, my adoptee heart is still going to feel that way. In fact,
what I want to hear is that they are sorry for doing that to me and
that they love me. My heart needs to feel like they aren't going to
walk away from me again. And my heart needs to hear it over and over
again. I wish my brain and my heart could get on the same page, but
they can't. And I've heard a lot of adoptees say this same thing. So
understand that sometimes your adopted child may lash out or feel hurt
about things. Its a side affect. He or she probably wishes that they
could control it, but they probably can't. And what they need most is
reassurance, love, and understanding.
Is there anything you wish you could tell every adoptee?
We
all feel differently. And that's OK. One person's feelings or
experiences cannot take away from another. So if someone is happy to be
adopted, then that's fantastic for them. If someone is unhappy to be
adopted, then that's valid too. Just because one person is happy
doesn't make everyone happy, and just because one person is sad doesn't
make everyone sad. I think that we all need that reminder sometimes,
especially when blogging. One adoptees truth is not everyone's truth.
We all are individuals and need to be respected as such.
Are there any specific examples of the support adoptees may need
that differs from others (while growing up or as adults)? Are there any
specific examples of ways in which the support adoptees need is the
same as others (while growing up or as adults)?
Adoptees are people too! We need support just like
everyone else for life's challenges. If I go through a bad breakup, I
need love and support just like my non-adopted friend does. I will
probably process my breakup differently (for myself, it would probably
trigger abandonment issues) but I still need someone there who's willing
to listen and hold my hand. I still need a shoulder to cry on when I
loose someone I love, the same as anyone else. I still want to
celebrate when I get a promotion (for me it might feel extra special
because I've always felt like I have something to prove), and I still
want to go to the bar and have a celebratory drink, the same as any of
my friends. There are small difference in my experience but then
again, my friends all have their own motivations as well. For all I
know, perhaps a friend had a traumatizing experience involving a corpse
when he was a child (it could happen) so death triggers him differently.
Perhaps a friend miscarried a child and thus her breakup with the
father is a lot harder to process. We all have various things that
separate us as adults (and children too) but we somehow manage to get
along. I think that listening is key, being supportive, and learning
that while we can't fully understand, we can still be there for each
other.
In many adoptee blogs and forums, a common theme encountered is
"difference". It is often describing how the adoptee experience is
"different" and how "no one can understand" the experience who is not an
adoptee. As someone who is not an adoptee, this theme appears to
strengthen alienation by association. Can you talk a little about your
experience with alienation, difference, and community?
I think part of this problem (and yes, it's a problem) is that
there really is a difference there. I was cut off from my family
completely and totally. The closed adoption system made sure I had no
contact with anyone I was genetically related to growing up. I never
heard "You look just like Aunt Suzie at that age!", "You've got Uncle
Fred's eyes", or "I was just like you when I was young! I guess this is
payback..." My relatives still said things like that, just about other
people. I always felt like I was on the outside looking in with my
face pressed up against the glass. I got strange looks in public.
People commented from time to time. And people always looked for
similarities that weren't there when they were introduced to my sister
and me. I learned that those things were important with how hard people
would try to find similar. Apparently we have the same facial
structure (we don't really). I've heard that at least ten times. The
thing is, we saw other people who weren't adopted. I could see that my
best friend looked a lot like her mom and her brother. I saw that my
cousins all laughed the same way as my mom. And I grew up feeling
different. So that difference is there, and it's something that a lot
of us have been aware of since we were small children (noting here that
not everyone has this experience and some children were matched with
families they would probably grow to look like). I've seen instances
online where some people (a small number) have tried to tell adoptees
that we aren't really different. I've seen people try to minimize that
difference and act like it doesn't matter. Only it does. And that's
when I've noticed adoptees getting defensive. It's also hard to
understand something that you haven't been through. It's not individual
to our community by any means. I identify as a white straight female.
I will never understand what it's like to be a Native American lesbian.
I can listen to her story. I can sympathize, but not empathize. I
think it's a glaring problem with our community because adoptees aren't
supposed to be different (at least when I was born) and being adopted
wasn't supposed to be different from being raised in the family you were
born too. So people don't understand this difference and try to
explain it in other ways instead of accepting that we can't fully know
the other's experiences from their point of view and work on the
sympathy side of things. Instead of finger pointing or having an "us vs
them" attitude, I think as a community we need to embrace the
differences and move forward together. Then again what do I know?
Can you talk about the commonalities and differences of
experience between adoptees and non-adoptees entering adulthood and
struggling to establish a sense of "self"?
Well,
I was adopted as an infant, so I don't really have a point of reference
for the non-adopted. I do know lots of non-adopted people so I guess I
could take a stab at it. I think that in general, our sense of self
comes from our history, and our experiences I'm a firm believer that
you have to know the past going into the future. History has a tendency
to repeat itself, and I think that we can learn a lot from mistakes and
successes in the past. For adoptees (closed adoptions), we don't
usually know our past. It's hard to move forward when you don't know
where you come from. History is important. At the same time, I know
that I grew into my sense of self based on a number of experiences I
had. Being adopted had nothing to do with my love for dance and the
experiences and lessons I learned from that. I have friends who
identified as dancers as well, and most were not adopted. So in that
sense, there are commonalities. On the other hand, I have friends who
used to brag about having ancestors who came over on the Mayflower.
That was a huge part of their "self" and that piece of history was
important to them. It was a part of their truth and personal identity.
I didn't have that. I had to fill in the blanks or take guesses, but
there were a lot of question marks for me. So in that sense, we're
different. As I learn my history, I can feel my view of myself change
slowly as it becomes more complete with less missing pieces. It's an
odd thing to happen as an adult, but now I know that I had ancestors in
the US before the Revolutionary War too. I have my family tree traced
back to the 1400's on one branch. So I guess now I'm trying to find a
way to catch up with everyone else!
Thank you again to Jenn for your honesty and patience, to Heather for all your hard work, and to all the Interview Project participants for your courage. Jen's interview with me is here. Be sure to check out the Open Adoption Bloggers page for more exciting projects in the future as well as the exhaustive blog roll for more perspectives to read.
