Racism In Adoption

Today I want to share an article from a guest blogger, Jen Lane, who is both a biological and adoptive parent.  She has adopted trans-racially and shares a unique perception about racism as it relates to adoption.  I think Jen is insightful and knowledgeable in sharing her story.

"It wasn't until I brought home our most precious African American child five years ago, I realized...although slavery was abolished in 1863....racism still exists.

At the time, I lived in a city of over 100,000 people. I had been around diversity all my life. My best friend in elementary school was African American.  My brothers best friends -- Indian. My best friend in High School -- Mexican. My entire life I have shared friendships with diverse people; Korean, Vietnamese, those of middle eastern decent, and many others.   

My husband of nearly twenty years is Peruvian.  And although I have blond hair, green eyes, and am from Norwegian decent, I never really witnessed many issues concerning ethnicity.  Our biological children, who are bi-racial, were completely undaunted that they were a blend of two races while growing. If anything, they are now proud of their diversity.


But for some reason, it all changed when this fair-skinned mom in her 30's started carrying around our African American adopted daughter.


Looking at the contrast between my daughter and I, even the most ignorant stranger could conclude that I was not her biological mother.  We are about as opposite in color as any two people could be.  But yet, that didn't seem to matter.  The attacks began from complete strangers:  

• Condemning looks.
• Rolling eyes.
• People scanning me up and down with a half upturned lip. 
• Clear disgust.  Rude whispers. Comments.
• Others standing over me, body hovering, trying to look (literally) down on me.
• People staring me in my eyes the entire time I passed, without even a hint of a smile, as if to inflict some kind of shame or condemnation. 
• But, the worst?  The invisible look. From afar, people would see me, but then as I approached, they would turn their heads up and away, brushing past me as if we did not exist.

At first, I was completely dumbfounded. I had been friendly, outgoing, quick to smile and engage in random conversations with strangers all my life.  But now, I was no less than shocked and devastated.  And to be honest, many days I would come home and sit in a heap and just weep at the cruelty of people.  I just couldn't understand it. 


But then, I started noticing patterns.

• Older people seemed much more bothered by our diversity than younger people.
• Men almost always ignored me or glared...especially older men.  Women not as much.
• African-American women were always friendly; smiling, stopping to chat, or just plain helpful.
• In a major metropolitan city nearby, I rarely had issues.
• In the small nearby farm towns, I almost always received degrading looks or comments.
• How I dressed made a difference.
• How I responded mattered.

And I began to realize...

• People were being rude because it empowered them to feel entitled to make judgments.
• Women who have biological children outside of their own race have to deal with this kind of condemnation everyday.
• It was not just me they were condemning, but the color of the skin of my adopted child.
• My daughter, sadly, will likely have to deal with people's bias, condemnation, judgments, & racism her entire life.
• God did not give us a spirit of fear or intimidation..but one of power, love, and a sound mind.
• My daughter was watching my response and would likely grow up to pattern how I interacted with strangers.
• My job is to protect and defend my daughter.  I needed to model maturity, confidence, and faith.
• Again....How I respond mattered.

The biggest, most drastic thing that somehow shifted in me, was my thinking.  Instead of getting defensive, depressed, or angry...I started to love and pray and seek God's counsel.  He seemed to show me the hearts of my accusers and how low of self-worth they must have to want and need to play Messiah on behalf of me and my family. I began to ache for them, want to help them, and love them with a love beyond anything within myself.


I also knew that our daughter was and is a testimony. Our family was no accident and was put together by the hand of God. And God calls us to be confident in the things He calls us to do - in all things bringing glory to Him. 


At first, I started dressing up more.  For some reason, nicely dressed people are perceived more as adoptive parents.  But then, I realized I can't be on defense...I must play offense...So...

• Instead of walking with my head held down, I started standing straight, tall.
• Instead of looking at the floor...I now keep my eyes up, vibrant, alive, engaging.
• When people pass, I always smile; looking people straight in the eyes with love and acceptance.
• If people seem to be curious as to our contrast, I engage in casual conversation opening up doors of communication and understanding.
• Whenever possible, I share our testimony of adoption with hopes to plant seeds, inspire, and advocate for the orphan.
• I stop when little kids stand and stare or touch my daughters skin, and talk to them about diversity and color. (Yes, even if the parents are present and especially if the parents display rejection of my daughter)
• I see every opportunity as a chance to educate, and take it.
• I try to love people and smile even more when they are rude or accusatory or just plain mean.  Even though they still glare as I pass, I keep smiling and walking with my head held high and proud of our family.  Love conquers all sin.
• I teach my daughter about the differences of color, race...the beauty of all of God's creation.
• I tell my daughter daily just how beautiful she is and that she is a princess of the Most High God. 
• I teach my daughter to never walk condemned, looking at the ground. And instead advise her to keep her head held high, looking people straight in the eyes, and answer others respectfully in a strong, confident, self-assured voice.

The onslaught of negative responses I received after adopting our African American child, I would have never expected before adopting. But, now I see that adopting trans-racially is no less than a valuable gift -- a walking billboard, if you will, that opens doors to advocate for adoption.  It has a way of impacting thousands in our lifetime to a population that may not otherwise hear about how God can open homes and hearts to seeking families and, thus, fill hearts.  I cannot say just how many times I have conversations with people "thinking" about adoption.  Then, when they see our family or talk to us about the joys of adoption it becomes a confirmation to what God had been prompting them to do. 


Trans-racial families are unique in that they are...

• Testaments to the diversity and beauty of His creation.
• An opportunity to demonstrate to the world His unconditional love.
• A chance to share about diversity and adoption.
• Walking poster boards of what love can do.

One day we will know just how many kids have been saved and brought into forever homes because our determination to use our family as a way to open doors to conversations about adoption.  Each day we are thankful for the way He has created our family into such a beautiful palette of color for His splendor.  And I know, without a doubt, that if I had to do it all over again, we wouldn't change a thing."

Visit Jen's blog site at http://richfaithrising.blogspot.com/

And thank you, Jen, for opening some eyes, and perhaps hearts, today.

A Good Question

A few years ago, at one of our seminars, a potential adoptive father came up to me after the seminar to ask a question.  He was a little self-conscious and didn't want anyone to hear.  He quietly asked, "What happens if I can't bond with an adopted child like I would a biological child?".  That's a question I think a lot of adoptive parents want to ask, but don't.  I began to ask him some questions.  "Why do you think that being related biologically guarantees a bond?"  You hear about some women who give birth and have post-partum depression and they don't bond easily or quickly with their newborn.  He stated that he wasn't sure he could love the baby "as much" as he would if the baby was "his".  I asked him if he loved his wife.  He said, "Of course!" as if he was shocked that I would ask him that question.  I looked had him quizzically and asked, "Are you to biologically related?"  He began to see where I was going with that line of reasoning...and replied "No!" with a wide smile.  "So, you can love someone who not biologically related to you?", I asked.  He stated that he could.

Perhaps a year later, I got a call from him while he and his wife were sitting in a hotel room with their newborn son.  They were anxious to share the news that everything had gone beautifully and the baby was now theirs and they were just awaiting ICPC clearances to go home.  I took the opportunity to ask him if he thought the bonding was going well.  There was a pause on the other end of the line.  He took a deep breath and very tearfully said, "I'm here to tell you that I can bond with an adopted child  He's 100% my son".  I told him I knew that.  He stated that he didn't know why he ever doubted it.  He told me that within a few minutes of holding his new son, he would have laid down his life for him.  That's how parents feel.  All parents, not just biologically-related parents, but adoptive parents too.