Marnie wrote in response to my fertility privilege entry, “If it walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it is probably a duck. If a bunch of infertile women who appear to be pretty smart feel that adoptism exists, maybe it exists.”

I’ve been wanting to write on this for awhile. Is there “adoptionism?” To figure that out I had to first define the term so I’m borrowed from Beverly Daniels Tatum’s defininition of racism, “a system of advantage based on race.” In other words, is there “a system of advantage based on adoptive-parent status?”

Of course there is each side of the adoption triangle to consider here but for this entry we’re only considering the one. In short:

1. Is there a system of advantage based on birth/adoption status for the adoptee? Historically there has been. I believe the laws have changed in all states but I think that the vestiges are still apparent for example when media talk about Tom Cruise’s “adopted” children (those poor kids — but I digress). But then the flip side to that is that some of the adoption laws meant to “protect” adoptees (arguable motivation) are the very laws that reformers (like those at Bastard Nation) target. (This is an interesting discussion in itself but I best save it for some other time.) Anyway, we’re not talking about adoptees in this entry.

2. Is there a system of advantage based on birth mother status for the birth parent? Oh yes but this is more about other -isms particularly classism. It’s not birth mother status per se; it’s that adoption policies spring out of our nation’s prejudices about women, motherhood and class. There is the adoption experience of birth mothers and then there is the experience of being a birth mother post-adoption. However, we’re not talking about birth parents in this entry.

3. Is there a system of advantage based on being an adoptive vs. a biological parent? I don’t think so but hey, I could be wrong.

The laws have changed, I know that. The Family and Medical Leave Act covers adoption as well as birth; some companies offer adoption benefits. Some states have subsidies (usually to assist in the adoption of a child in the US with “special needs”). There is also a federal tax credit for adoption that goes beyond the adoption of children with disabilities. (By the way, most of these laws were changed because of the abundance of children available for adoption within the foster care system. Others have been put in place — the tax credit being extended to non-special needs adoption — as part of a pro-life agenda. There are some interesting things to say about the impact of Roe v. Wade on adoption policies but it’s yet another topic for the future; this blog entry is rife with ‘em.)

One could argue that there is a “fertility-ism” at work here except I don’t think that would be quite right either.

I think that arguing that there’s adoption-ism is problematic. It puts us in the position of arguing that adoption is — or should be — “just like” giving birth. It’s not. They’re both ways of building a family but it’s apples and oranges. Marnie gives this example, “I understand the logic of the homestudy and paperwork, but watching lots and lots of people get pregnant without having to build a fence around their irrigation pond, for example, while we may have to (at significant cost), certainly feels, while minor, like discrimination.”

But someone has to be responsible for the children who are getting passed around. If we decided that people giving birth meet those same expectations we’re treading on dangerous ground. Do we want the state dictating our fertile family building? Isn’t that what China is doing? Wouldn’t that be a human rights violation?

The difference in adoption is obvious: there’s another person whose human rights are at stake. The baby/child who is going to be placed in that home has become a responsibility for the government(s) overseeing the adoption.

To sum up, giving birth is a personal act and adopting is a public one.

But I agree with Marnie that there is a non-institutional adoptionism that many adoptive families experience. In my own experience, as I’ve said, more people were positive about our adoption than they were about our bio kid but there have been some bumps in the road. I tend to think that most people are just not all that well-read about adoption. Some people won’t say congratulations when you announce you’re adopting because there’s no baby yet.

There were some people in our circle who were so afraid that we wouldn’t get a baby that they were very cautious at the beginning. It was only when Madison was actually here that they were able to be excited for us. On the other hand, being pregnant with Noah was much more real to people. That’s the nature of adoption and not necessarily an -ism.

A related topic that I really want to get to is about infertility as a disability (as covered by the Americans with Disabilities Act). But that’s another one I’ll have to do some other time.

I welcome opposing views about adoptionism because I haven’t done as much research as I meant to. I’d like to hear, too, from non-infertile adopters and hopeful adopters because I wonder how much of the perceived adoptionism specifically springs out of grieving the social pregnancy experience.

Bookmark
SubscribeBloglinesDiggdel.icio.usFacebookStumbleUponTechnorati

Related posts