As with just about anything related to adoptions, explaining adoption to others seems to be viewed and handled differently by the many people involved in the adoption process.  One characteristic I notice about this subject is that adoptees seem to be much more reluctant to discuss adoption than their adoptive parents. Part of the reason is that many people view adoption as an act of grace bestowed upon the adoptee by adoptive parents.

I know that for most of my life, I avoided any discussion of my adoption with anyone, including my own family.  When I do talk about adoption, I try to clear up some of the common perceptions that people have.   One of the biggest misunderstandings seems to be the notion that the adoptive parents did some deed of charity when they decided to adopt.  Although I feel very fortunate for being adopted by my parents, I also know that my parents feel just as fortunate for adopting me.  My parents adopted me because they wanted another child in their family and the child they wanted was me.  I think that young adoptees can help to dispel the notion of adoption being an act of charity by telling others that, “When my parents adopted me, they adopted the child they always wanted in their family.”

Parents can tell others that, “Our family was not complete until we adopted our child,” or “We improved our family through adoption.” People need to know that adoption is an amazing event that helps to build families.  People need to know that adoption is not an act of charity or sympathy.  I don’t think anyone wants to view their child as a token gesture of kindness.  Think about this the next time someone tells your child how lucky she or he is to have been adopted.

~Thomas C. Manvydas

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As a young child growing up in a racially homogenous community, being asked about my adoption story was a regular, and almost a mundane occurrence.  Most inquire out of curiosity and few ask with cruel intentions.  To most, I usually gave them the quick run down—I was adopted with my younger sister at the age of 11 from Korea, and yes I like being adopted.  With that most kids and adults were satisfied and usually responded with, “Wow, that’s neat.”  End of the discussion.

However, there are those times I can still vividly recall when I was singled out because of my adoption—especially as an Asian American child in a largely white community.  In elementary school, when I used to get teased on the playground by younger boys, I ignored them.  In Korea, I was taught that when you don’t respond to taunts, the bully would eventually lose interest and stop teasing.  However, this “foreign” tactic did not fit in the American playground as much as I felt different and alienated at those times.  At first I was inhibited by my lack of English language skills, and thus rarely responded.  But, as I became comfortable with my new tongue, I found my voice.  When I started to talk back and further challenge their assumptions, the taunting stopped.  On few occasions, I had to enlist the support of an authority figure to succinctly convey that I had no obligations to answer their stupid questions.  Whether it changed the teasing boys’ attitudes I am not sure, but it empowered me in countless ways. 

Put in this unique and often awkward and uncomfortable place, adoptees, like it or not, become representatives and “educators” of adoption.  Therefore, when confronted with rude questions and misinformed comments, the adoptee should respond loud and confidently because at times, “Silence is Not Golden.”

~Whitney Tae-Jin Ning

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