Why a Generation of Adoptees Is Returning to South Korea

New York Magazine article By MAGGIE JONES

Video: ReMoved

Adoption Microaggressions: Mom's Photo Series Spotlights Racist Comments Directed at Daughters

Mom's Photo Series Spotlights Racist Comments Directed at Daughters

By Elise Solé, Shine Staff | Parenting – Tue, Feb 25, 2014 2:19 PM EST

Kim Kelley-Wagner Images/FacebookWhen Kim Kelley-Wagner adopted two little girls from China, now ages 13 and 7, she never imagined that her family would attract much attention. So the barrage of rude and ignorant comments she's received on a daily basis over the years has shocked her. But instead of dismissing her critics, Kelley-Wagner has created a controversial photo series starring her daughters, hoping to show others how words can hurt.

Though the 55-year-old  communications director at a middle school in Charlottesville, Virginia, never married, she had always known that she wanted kids. Her life changed thanks to a tiny photo accompanying a story about Chinese orphans in Time magazine. “It was an image of six babies sitting in a circle on the floor, and one had the most serious facial expression,” Kelley-Wagner tells Yahoo Shine. “That image stayed with me.” At the time, China was one of the only countries that allowed single people to adopt, so a few years later, in 2001, Kelley-Wagner adopted 10-month-old Liliana, and in 2008, she adopted Meika, then a 2-year-old special-needs child who had a bilateral cleft lip and palate when she was born.

More on Yahoo Shine: Foster Teen Gets First ‘Real’ Thanksgiving With Adoptive Family 

“The comments began right from the start,” Kelley-Wagner says. “We would be shopping, and cashiers or store clerks would say things like, ‘How much did she cost?’ or ‘You could have bought a car for what it probably cost to adopt her.’ I would answer, ‘Are you interested in adoption?’ If they said no, I’d say, ‘Why are you asking?’ My response made them consider the impact of their words and sometimes they apologized.” 

photo: Kim Kelley-Wagner Images/FacebookQuestions and comments directed at both mom and daughters have ranged from combative to misguided. Some that Kelley-Wagner remembers include, "They hate girls from the country you come from — you know that, right?" "Why don’t you look like your mom?" "Your mom is a real saint for wanting you" "What a China doll!" "But what are her emotional issues?" and "Why would you bring more immigrants into our country?" 

More on Yahoo: The Woody Allen Adoption Question 

“One time, I was at the mechanic and the counter guy said to one of the girls, ‘You know that’s not your real sister, right?’” Kelley-Wagner recounts. “His coworker rushed over and apologized for him. On another occasion, a bookstore clerk asked, ‘Um, does she look like her real father?’”

After fielding so many inappropriate questions and comments over the years, Kelley-Wagner was struck with an idea. “I wanted to turn this into a teachable moment, especially because I don’t want the girls to internalize this negativity.” So she asked her girls if they felt comfortable posing for photos while holding signs with the comments written out. “They were all for it,” she says. “Lily even said, ‘I think people need to know how rude people are.’ We sat down and made a list and I was surprised at how many incidents the girls remembered that I didn’t.” Kelley-Wagner titled their project, “Things said to or about my adopted daughters” and in January, she posted it on Facebook. This week it began making the rounds on the Internet after getting picked up by a few small blogs and websites.

Some see the project as exploitative. “Yesterday, a woman online said that my project was a parental fail,” says Kelley-Wagner. “But I want my kids to be aware of the ignorance in the world so they’ll know how to handle it.” She admits that it can be hard for her to stay calm at times; she doesn’t want her children to respond rudely but instead to make the other person think. “My advice to them is, leave your offenders speechless,” she says. Liliana is learning — recently, a couple approached the family and the woman remarked, "I couldn’t love someone I didn’t give birth to," to which Lily cleverly responded, "Oh, did you give birth to your husband?" before walking away. “I was proud of her,” says Kelley-Wagner.

She doesn't believe that people are being purposefully cruel; she thinks that in most cases it’s simply ignorance. “I think people are curious and don’t know any better,” she says. “Fortunately, my daughters have never questioned their place in our family or felt out of place.” 

Radiolab: Baby Veronica

Link to Podcast.

This is the story of a three-year-old girl and the highest court in the land. The Supreme Court case Adoptive Couple v. Baby Girl is a legal battle that has entangled a biological father, a heart-broken couple, and the tragic history of Native American children taken from their families.

When producer Tim Howard first read about this case, it struck him as a sad but seemingly straightforward custody dispute. But, as he started talking to lawyers and historians and the families involved in the case, it became clear that it was much more than that. Because Adoptive Couple v. Baby Girl challenges parts of the 1978 Indian Child Welfare Act, this case puts one little girl at the center of a storm of legal intricacies, Native American tribal culture, and heart-wrenching personal stakes.

UPDATE: The Supreme Court has made its ruling inAdoptive Couple v. Baby Girl. Hear our update at the beginning of our short Ally's Choice.

Background and Reporting from a range of different perspectives

"Couple forced to give up daughter"
An introductory article by Allyson Bird, for the Charleston, SC Post and Courier

Comprehensive coverage of the case by the Charleston Post and Courier

"Supreme Court Takes on Indian Child Welfare Act in Baby Veronica Case" 
A report for Indian Country Today by Suzette Brewer, who has also written a two-part series on the case.

"Supreme Court hears Indian child custody case"
Tulsa World article by Michael Overall which includes Dusten Brown's account of his break-up with Veronica's mother, and his understanding about his custodial rights. Plus photos of Dusten, Veronica, and Dusten's wife Robin in their Oklahoma home.

Randi Kaye's report for CNN on the background of the case, and interviews with Melanie and Matt Capobianco: "Video: Adoption custody battle for Veronica"

Opinion: N.J. adoptees, birth parents live a life 'not knowing'

By Linda Stamato

“In all of us there is a hunger, marrow deep, to know our heritage, to know who we are, and where we have come from. Without this enriching knowledge, there is a hollow yearning; no matter what our attainments in life, there is the most disquieting loneliness.”— Alex Haley, author of “Roots”

The movie “Philomena” is an account of the story of Anthony Lee and his mother and their lives spent in search of each other. Their story starts in the 1950s, a time when unmarried pregnant women had very few options. Philomena and her son lived in a home for unwed mothers and their children run by Roman Catholic nuns in Roscrea, Ireland. While Ms. Lee did not want to give up her son, she was forced to sign her rights away at the nuns’ insistence. At the age of 3, Anthony was adopted by an American couple.

From that time on, the nuns did not — ever — allow Ms. Lee to know what had become of her son. And they didn’t allow him to know anything about his mother or the truthful circumstances of his adoption.

The film tells enough of their story to help advance the cause of those who are fighting for the right to the same information that Philomena Lee sought for more than 50 years.

Legislators in New Jersey will shortly decide whether to give thousands of accurate birth certificates to their rightful owners, adult adoptees who now have access only to amended certificates; when their adoptions were made final, birth certificates bearing their names and those of their birth parents were sealed by the state. It’s been this way since 1940.

As a result, many adoptees are unable to locate their birth parents and are thus prevented from knowing, at the very least, potentially life-saving information about their family health histories.

Sen. Joseph Vitale (D-Middlesex) is spearheading efforts to revive the legislation in the upcoming session. And Sen. Diane Allen (R-Burlington), a sponsor of earlier legislation, has weighed in passionately:

“It’s a civil rights issue and it’s appalling to me we treat people this poorly. We have made them a separate class, an inferior class, because they were adopted. How absurd is that?”

What so closely resonates between the experience of those seeking access and Philomena Lee’s is the open wound of persistent loss, of not knowing.

From an account in The New York Times:

“Over 50 years, Ms. Lee sent word to the convent in Roscrea every time she moved, just in case Anthony ever came looking for her, and she visited several times pressing for information about him. But to no avail, even though Anthony, renamed Michael Hess, had also been trying to find her and had made his way to Roscrea.…... (He) was repeatedly told that nothing could be done.”

That will continue to be the story in New Jersey, too, as it has been despite decades of trying to change the way things are, if Gov. Christie gets his way. He refused to sign the bill the last time it reached his desk. And it would seem that the Roman Catholic Church continues its efforts to prevent access to information here, just as it did in Ireland.

One need not examine the details of the lives of all those who live “not knowing” to understand, but consider what Anthony’s tale tells us:

“As he was dying in 1995. He requested that his ashes be buried at the convent in case his mother should ever come looking for him.”

In New Jersey, stories reflect the same sadness. Here is one, posted in response to a blog on Nj.com:

“The yearning for information is very difficult to explain to those who are not adopted. ... Luckily for most people, they will never have to wonder what diseases run in their family or wait decades to look into the eyes of someone who actually bears any resemblance to them when they finally have their own children. Most can say the words ‘Thank you for giving me life’ to their parents. Some of us cannot. I would give anything for the opportunity to say those words to my birthmother. As an adoptee given up in the period when few options existed, I realize that there were circumstances that forced pregnant women to give up their children during that era.

Their rights (and their babies’ rights) have never been addressed. We should finally have a climate in New Jersey adoption that allows for the truth and access to information that is rightfully ours.”

How can we fail to provide birth parents access to those who seek them if they wish to be found? How can we condone a practice that denies information regarding their true identities to those who seek to know them?

The Legislature should take immediate action as soon as it reconvenes to end the secrecy and allow adopted children and adults and their birth parents to gain the information they need and want.

http://www.nj.com/times-opinion/index.ssf/2014/01/opinion_adoptees_birth_parents.html

Linda Stamato is co-director of the Center for Negotiation and Conflict Resolution at the Edward J. Bloustein School of Planning and Public Policy at Rutgers University, New Brunswick.

“If You People (Adoptive Parents) Did your Job Right…”

“If You People (Adoptive Parents) Did your Job Right…”

Eunice Anderson

You people. Our kids.. Pronouns aimed at me. An adoptive talkative mother. On an airplane. Let me explain.







Today’s flight was a short one so after stuffing my overnight baggage in the upper compartment I greet my 30sh first-class business suited seat companion. He busies himself on his computer so I gladly grab an in flight magazine, also signaling to him that I, a gray haired passenger, will also not be chatty. Because, what could we possibly have in common?

“Would you like something to drink before our meal?” Shortly after the curtain closed to the back seat passengers, the stewardess offers free drinks. I suggest a Bloody Mary. He takes a Coke. He soon stows his laptop away and starts chatting. Searching for an ice breaker topic to continue I mention the airline magazine story I was reading about heredity. And how meaningful it was to me.

“I am now helping my adopted son search for his birth family for many reasons. I am sure we will find his alcoholism in that genetic track”.

He choked on his salad before turning to me to flatly deny that that could be a cause of my son’s alcoholism.

Wow. How could this young man know that was true when even geneticists today document this as an inherited gene? Not to be depreciated I share my experience that the search and reunions for my other two children did reveal that genetics played a big part in who they were. Plus, I quickly added how glad the birth families were to meet their birth child.

Another big sip of his Coke before he continuing lecturing me that no way could genetics be linked to anything. Now my turn to choke on my salad so another Bloody Mary sip. Stunned at the veracity of this young man’s ‘knowledge’ and his not acknowledging my experiences with two of my happily reunited children, make me more affirmative. Nevertheless he kept exposing on any possible genetic links in adoption.

Did I again emphasize that their birth families were as happy to reunite with them as they with them before his laptop was in place again? I grabbed another magazine. We conversed no more until we deplaned. He was now a few feet ahead of me (why was he ahead of me as I deplaned first?) he screamed back at me.

“If you did your job right, our kids would not have to come looking for us.”


What did he just say? You people. Okay. That is me. An adoptive parent. But yourjob. Did he just accuse me of not being a good parent? He did. But I did my job well, except I could not fix my young kids longing to know their genetic background. Because it was locked up. Sealed.

Did he also just say our kids?. You mean,you are a birth father?

I am now trailing him about ten feet. Stunned with his angry words. But, evidently he has more words as he stops and yells back his parting shot.

“My daughter better never come knocking at my door.”

Your daughter? Your door? Now I get it. So he must have learned that adoptive children, in general, search as their need to know their lineage is overwhelming. But not his daughter? So it only villains like me who wrongfully assist our kids to knock on birth families doors.

Did I tell him that they thanked me for doing a good job?

His pronouns words lingered. I goggled pronouns. One psychologist described them as the ‘canaries’ in the coal mine of conflict. The use of a lot of first person pronouns like “I” or “we” is a sign of a healthy relationship; whereas using you as in: “You always say that”or “You never do this” indicates poor problem solving.

Hopefully his birth daughter will reunite with him someday so his pronouns will change. In the meantime a special Happy Birth Father’s Day to all first fathers.

Big Lessons That Transcend the Movie: There Are Philomenas All Around Us

Posted: 01/27/2014 11:21 am

Adam Pertman

As I was leaving the theater over the weekend, after watching the mesmerizing movie "Philomena," a couple of middle-aged women nearby were talking about how much they had learned from the film. "It's awful what happened in Ireland back then," one of them said. "I'd never known about it before."

What they learned, in a nutshell, was that girls and young women like the real-life Philomena -- who got pregnant out of wedlock in that country during the 1950s -- were frequently forced to work under brutal conditions in convent laundries as "penance" for their "sins." And then their sons and daughters were routinely, mercilessly spirited away from them to be adopted by wealthy Americans, most if not all of whom showed their gratitude to the church with generous "donations."

"Philomena" is far more than a glimpse into the past, however, and I hope that people who see it (and I wish I had a magic wand to induce everyone to do so) will derive far broader and more essential lessons. Because the reality is that during the mid-20th century and beyond, severe religious, social and familial stigmas against unwed motherhood were the norm far beyond Ireland. As a consequence, it's almost certainly true that there are more Philomenas in the United States than in any other country -- i.e., women who, given a choice, would have parented their children rather than suffering the anguish of losing them and wondering about them every day because they were placed into closed adoptions.

Perhaps most unsettling, both because some of the stigmas remain and because adoption policies and practices have not yet progressed sufficiently, more Philomenas are being created every day.

So from the perspective of a leader of a think tank dedicated to making adoption as thoughtful, ethical and compassionate as possible for all of its participants, here are a few of the big takeaways that I hope will be imbedded into the consciousness of the viewers of this important movie.

First and foremost, shaming or coercing parents into parting with their children or, worse, removing their children without consent (even when that's necessary), inflicts profound and lasting psychic wounds. On-screen in "Philomena," it looked like a form of torture, and I'm sure many women would describe it that way. A related lesson: Women whose children go to adoptive homes rarely "forget and move on." They may do the latter, especially if they had a real voice in the process, but just as was the case for Philomena, the lives they created remain in their minds and hearts and souls. And, if they don't know where their sons or daughters are, they anguish over whether their children are healthy or sick, even dead or alive.

There unquestionably are circumstances in which children need new families, especially if remaining in their original ones puts them in harm's way; furthermore, there certainly are women and men who willingly place their infants for adoption. Given what we know about the enduring repercussions of being separated from one's child, however, policy and practice must do a better job of ensuring that families can stay intact when possible, and that parents receive the help they need when that goal cannot be met. Moreover, women and men who do consider adoption for their children should be enabled to understand all of their options beforehand, so that they make genuinely informed decisions, and should receive pre- and post-placement counseling and support as well.

There's a vital lesson in this film about adopted people, too: Like their peers who are raised in their families of origin, adoptees typically want and/or need -- and certainly deserve -- to know from where and from whom they came. They are too often prevented from obtaining that knowledge, however, by laws that keep their records sealed; by practices that keep their adoptions closed; and by attitudes that mistakenly equate their desire or need to know with disloyalty to their adoptive parents.

The insights provided by this quietly powerful movie are not simply the conjectures of a filmmaker, written for dramatic effect. Rather, they are based on the real life of the title character -- and they reflect the truths of generations of women and the children they lost. It's also important to say that the lessons in "Philomena" are borne out by decades of experience and research, including "Safeguarding the Rights and Well-Being of Birthparents in the Adoption Process" and "For the Records II: An Examination of the History and Impact of Adult Adoptee Access to Original Birth Certificates." Both are the work of the Donaldson Adoption Institute, which is currently embarking on a new "Safeguarding II" study intended to define and shape best practices in options counseling for expectant parents.

Most people who see "Philomena" will undoubtedly come away thinking far more about Judi Dench's riveting performance than about the need for continued improvement of adoption laws, policies and practices. But this movie, because it is so popular and so well-received, provides the best springboard in years for a broad conversation about the undermining consequences of stigma, shame, secrets and lies -- and about how we can reshape social attitudes and institutions that were built on those foundations.