There’s only so many times I can listen to that “Where are you from?” question until something has to give. I think about the space, the city, and the country where I live now, and the places in my past. I know these things. In my story, they’re easy parts.

What’s more difficult are the things I don’t know. The things that define me; what my culture and heritage is. 

That’s where it hits the fan.

–

In mainstream discussions and media, adoption is almost exclusively presented in a positive light. We applaud Angelina Jolie for saving poor Black children and giving them a better life, Aaron Judge’s adoptive parents for discovering his talent, and our favourite movie superheroes like Superman or Scarlet Witch who go on to do mighty things after losing their parents.

The one thing that’s rarely considered is the direct impacts of adoption, meaning those on the adoptee, their biological parents, and others closely connected.

Quick disclaimer here: I’m writing from my perspective as a second-generation adoptee, which means that one of my parents is adopted and I am not. While I cannot speak to the experiences of an adoptee, I will touch on how adoption has impacted me.

Through adoption, one of the most fundamental and essential human connections gets shattered: the relationship between a mother and her child. As shown by countless studies, connection to the mother is one that starts with the developing fetus and is further strengthened in the hours immediately after birth.

While this type of break-in relationship has not affected me directly, the effects of adoption trickle down in the form of intergenerational trauma. Because of adoption and the connections it severs, I do not know parts of my biological family.

When someone asks how my grandfather is doing, the stark reality is that I don’t know the life he could be leading, let alone if he’s still alive. When I walk through downtown Toronto, any one of the passing faces could be an aunt or an uncle.

It’s a feeling of darkness that I can’t even begin to imagine is like for adoptees themselves. It’s a feeling I wish on nobody.

Hope keeps me going because it can’t always be doom and gloom. Modern DNA testing has allowed my family to reconnect with parts of our biological family we lost through adoption. While reconnecting with cultures, languages, and traditions that I didn’t grow up with but are an integral part of my background is a daunting task. I’m inspired and motivated every day.

Motivated by the desire to be able to speak to cousins I didn’t know about ten years ago in my native language, and by those my family has yet to rediscover.

Inspired by the resilience of adoptees and other marginalized groups around the world that have faced similar experiences, like Indigenous Peoples who had their children stolen in the past through the residential school era, and through the welfare system in the present.

Change is a part of my hope, and a lot of change needs to happen. As a society, we must move away from traditional western patriarchal views. We need to aim at keeping families whole rather than provide solutions after they have already been separated.

This means investing in women and their communities, especially racialized ones, where losing a child is the most prevalent. Specifically, this looks like providing access to contraception and family planning products. This means focusing on the right to have easy access to get abortions, maternal care, childcare, and paid leave for new parents, to list a few.

If there’s one thing I want readers to take away from this piece, it’s a new perspective. Next time you hear about adoption, take a second to consider the impacts it has on those directly affected. Even if it’s just in the back of your head, it’s invaluable information in a world where adoption discussions are mainly single stories that disregard the perspectives of adoptees, their sphere, the perspectives of biological parents, and families who have lost their children.

Further: please pause and think next time before making that ooh they must be adopted joke about someone who you think doesn’t quite fit in, or tolerating such comments from others. 

For those wanting to read further, I encourage you to seek out first-hand adoptee perspectives. While they may not be covered in mainstream media yet, they exist, and can be easily found. 

Older Sister. Not Necessarily Related.: A Memoir by Korean intercountry adoptee Jenny Heijun Wills, Intercountry Adoptee Voices (https://intercountryadopteevoices.com), and The Adoption Mosaic (https://www.adoptionmosaic.com) are a few of my recommendations.