Madison has an elephant in her pants

She has a stuffed elephant tucked in the front of her pants and my stats right at the very minute say that I’ve had 666 visitors. Quick, someone visit so I can erase the Satanic number!

I’m not getting too far into the infamous Mme Tay comment (because then I’d have to read the whole discussion and I’m not going to) but I’ll address what Suz said since her site is where I first heard about the dust-up:

It seems that several adoptees felt validated. There is some service there, no? When they spend their lives being told to be grateful, having their feelings and rights ignored, I would imagine it would be of service to have someone finally say what you knew all along - even with a nasty tone and intent.

Could she have been nicer? Of course but when so many people in adoption avoid, deny, lie about, manipulate and abuse the truth, its is a bit refreshing to have one person be honest - even if they forgot their social graces (and is likely a total nutter) … For me, and I would guess some adoptees, its about being SEEN.

Certainly honesty in adoption is in short supply although I don’t think whatsherface Tay was being honest so much as she was being nasty. Well, there’s no point arguing about that any old way (because it could be she’s just some troll and not what she’s representing). The real point that Suz was making (I believe) is that there are plenty of adoptees who have grown up feeling like replacement kids (and there’s enough adoptee narrative for us all to nod our heads in understanding) and that many of ‘em would have a much easier time finding healing if their adoptive parents would say, “Yes, you weren’t what I really wanted.”

At the AAC conference I attended a terrific talk led by Barbara Ann Gowan who talked about her experiences growing up a biracial adoptee in an African American family. It was one of my favorite presentations. Anyway, she was talking about a friend of hers who adopted a child with serious special needs and later had two bio kids. She didn’t adopt after infertility; she adopted because she knew this child in another capacity and when the opportunity to adopt her opened up, she took it. One day she said to Barbara, “I am harder on her than I am on my other kids. I don’t like her as much.” (Important point: When she said this, too, her daughter was presenting some major challenges.) Barbara’s response? Good for you for being honest — now go get help.

Some of the adoptive parents in the audience were offended by this other woman’s feelings. How dare she feel differently about her adopted child? How dare she express those feelings? And Barbara patiently tried to explain that her friend should be applauded for being honest with herself because if she couldn’t be honest with herself, she couldn’t get help for herself and for her daughter.

I think that there can be barriers to attachment in adoption that simply aren’t there in a lot of bio relationships. Not that attachment is a sure thing in bio relationships either. Attachment barriers can be emotional, circumstantial, physical — there are lots of things that get in the way. In adoption there are additional issues like our kids’ histories or the circumstances surrounding their adoptions. Being honest about those issues can help us head them off. (Like reading up on attachment before we bring older infants, toddlers or older children home. Like finding support as we struggle to build relationships with our kids’ first families. Like confronting any residual infertility grief before we begin our homestudy.) And like Barbara explained to us, it helps us handle problems when they arise after, too. So honesty is, as always, the best adoption policy.

I know how guilt can cloud a parent’s ability to be honest though because as a kid I experienced that, too. And as an adult, I saw parents in shelter and now I see parents in my social group who can’t confront the harm they do their kids because to confront that is to be swallowed up by guilt. We parents — adoptive or not — can help each other cut through our denial by having honest discussions, sure. But Ms. Tay? That’s not the way to do it. The way to do it is the way Barbara did it — by sharing stories with compassion and kindness and by holding people responsible even as we accept their limitations. And yes, we adoptive parents need to not gasp in horror when others among us say, “You know, I’m having these socially unacceptable feelings…”

To me there are two issues here. The first is that hate-mongering comments suck, period. Gross generalizations don’t serve discourse. The second is that apparently honesty IS in such short supply that some people found the comments comforting. But to my mind, that doesn’t make her comment ok; it just highlights how much more work needs to be done.

(For the record, I wasn’t offended on my own behalf by her stupidity and gross generalizations but on my daughter’s behalf. My daughter is indeed a prize. She’s pretty f*cking amazing, set-the-world-on-fire fantastic and sure as heck not a consolation package.)

And now my stats are 697 and Satan has been banished from my statcounter. Cool.

Possibly related posts

3 Comments to “ Madison has an elephant in her pants ”

  1. Nice post, Dawn. I think you’ve hit it on the head with the guilt avoidance thing. I am struggling with finding ways to talk about my daughters first (soon-to-be-adopted-youngest) and bio (fostering-oldest) families. They’re both too young to understand anything that complicated right now but I don’t want there to ever be a “moment” when we talk about adoption, I want it to be an ongoing thing. ANd I gotta say that the guilt I feel about being an aparent is really making it hard for me to think / talk / write about how I want to approach it.

    And this: “My daughter is indeed a prize. She’s pretty f*cking amazing, set-the-world-on-fire fantastic. ” This is how every child, adopted or not, deserves to be loved.

    Thanks for another great post!!!

  2. It is interesting how hard it is to be honest about these things. I was raised by bio parents who very much wanted a child, but I came along a year or so before they had planned to start a family. It took me 20+ years to get them to admit that the timing wasn’t intentional, even though it seemed obvious to me looking at the calendar that it had to be. I’m not sure if they were really worried that I’d feel unwanted - it seems kind of unimaginable to me since I get along very well with my parents and I know how glad they are to have me. To me it was a relief to finally get a straight answer - I couldn’t figured out why they (who never tiptoe around tough questions) were tiptoeing around this. My take was :either the timing wasn’t planned, or my mother was crazy (I was born during final exams her last year of law school). Given the options, I liked the first one better :)

    In a lot of ways I think being honest about these things is really reassuring to a kid - if your parents are willing to be honest about how they felt back then, it is easier to believe that they are being honest about how they feel now. If it feels like they are sugar-coating the past, why should you believe they aren’t doing the same thing now when they tell you how lucky they are to have you?

  3. The “surprise” baby is a good example. Or what if you’re dating someone and you really want to marry him. For some reason he breaks up with you and you grieve, and move on. Then you meet someone else, and you get married to him, very happily so. You don’t know how it would have gone with first guy but second guy suits you perfectly and you love him like crazy. This second guy wasn’t your “first” choice but does that mean he’s second-best? Heck no.

    (A squeaky infertility metaphor, but it’s all I could come up with.)

Leave a Reply

You can use these XHTML tags: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <blockquote cite=""> <code> <em> <strong>