Since last November, I’ve had the privilege of connecting to many other adult intercountry adoptees around the U.S. via a podcast I hosted called Global Adoptee Talk. Some participated in my podcast and others did not. Nevertheless, just to hear and share stories was incredibly validating, and I appreciate the supportive community that we’re a part of. Unfortunately, I had to let go of my podcast before it even had a real chance to get off the ground due to increasing demands at work and the lack of time and energy I had to keep up with editing/interviewing. I am always inspired, grieved, saddened, angered, and motivated by the many adoptees stories I hear – motivated primarily to elevate adoptee voices in whatever shape or form that may take. It’s always important to be mindful of the fact that though an adoptee may have had a positive adoption experience, there is still undoubtedly loss, trauma, and frequently a longing to connect to cultural roots. That may mean searching for one’s birth parents or first/birth family or traveling to one’s country of origin, learning the language, and/or connecting to others who have similar backgrounds and experiences. It doesn’t go away – it may ebb and flow across the span of an adoptee’s life, but it’s a part of our makeup; it’s part of our DNA and hard-wired into our brains, literally. I don’t have time to go into how separation from birth mother is trauma, but suffice it to say, there is research that supports it. Acknowledging that adoptees have a vital role in the future of how adoption occurs and are given a voice is crucial.
I’m bummed to let go of my podcast, but I have hopes of one day picking it back up, as time allows. I miss that connection to other adoptees. There are plenty of super podcasts out there. Two of my favorite adoptee podcasts are Adoptees On,Adapted, and Born In June Raised in April. The Rambler was also a favorite, but the show closed earlier this year. All of these podcasts are available on iTunes – listen in – it’s totally worth it.
I sure learned a lot while producing my podcast and am super grateful for those adoptees that I had the opportunity to connect with. Adoptee voices are truly making their way to the forefront of discussions on adoption, as they should. Let us continue to build a strong and vibrant community, inclusive and respectful of all adoptees and their unique stories.
Past episodes of Global Adoptee Talk are available on Soundcloud
Hey folks! I’ve waited long enough to share some very exciting news. In four days, my family and I are heading to Las Vegas to meet my birth family! My sisters, my niece, and brother-n-law are coming to the U.S. In fact, they are touring Alaska even now and will then head to Vegas for a brief visit. I haven’t written about our reunion because one of my sisters has had some health challenges and wasn’t sure if she could make the trip. I have prayed for her constantly and am so happy that she is well enough to travel so far away. I think that it’s just hitting me that I’m really going to see them again in a few short days. My family and I had planned to take a trip to Taiwan this fall but will not be able to after all, to my great disappointment. However, I’m hoping to be able to go back to Taiwan sometime next year – we’ll see.
So much has happened since our reunion in Taiwan in 2012 when I met my birth family for the first time since my adoption. I can’t wait to catch up with my sisters! My Mandarin, sadly, has not improved. I do hope that one day I’ll be able to speak the language, or at least manage it somewhat. School has taken over my life. It has been a challenge and I cannot wait to graduate in 2015. I often wonder if going back to school will be worth all the trouble. I do hope so. In any case, I plan to enjoy the summer while it lasts, especially the reunion with my sisters and family in Vegas. I’ll keep you posted on our adventure.
I finally framed the picture of my birth mother, the only photo I have of her, which was given to me by my sisters in Taiwan. It was one of the first things they gifted to me at the airport upon my arrival to Taipei. It’s a 5×7 black and white photo. My sisters had the photo carefully laminated to prevent any damage. Such a thoughtful gesture. Her name was Shiow-Jean Lu according to my original adoption contract, which my adoptive parents hid from me.
My initial thought was that my birth mother looked so solemn. She’s wearing a black mandarin collared jacket or shirt. Her hair is short and neat in the style of older women. Her eyes are downturned slightly at the outer corners. I thought she appeared sad, as though she had seen many sorrows in her lifetime. She is not quite smiling, and I often wonder what she was thinking when the photo was taken. I never asked my sisters how old she was at the time. I think that I was so overwhelmed with joy to have her picture. Well, that and I didn’t want to ask too many questions, although I had many. My guess is she was somewhere in her fifties. My sisters told me that I look very much like our mother in her younger years. Unfortunately, there are no photos left of her when she was a young woman, as they were burned according to my sisters by our mother in a time of conflict. I don’t know much more about it, but I’m so curious.
It’s a really odd feeling knowing that I was born to two people who I will never have an opportunity to meet, partly a sense of numb, emptiness. The story of why and how I was placed for adoption is nearly unbearable of think about. Yet my sisters believe and told me more than once that my adoptive parents were angels and are very happy and thankful that I had the opportunity to be raised in the U.S. I understand why it happened the way it did. My birthfamily was impoverished, per my adoption contract, and I’m certain that life for my birth parents was not easy. I have benefited from white privilege due to my adoption, yet often feel conflicted by this. My adoptive parents loved me, yet there were numerous challenges, especially when I was a teen. My parents were ill-prepared to parent an adoptee with identity issues, and I feared my adoptive mother because of her instability, emotionally and psychologically. Her mood could change in a split second, and when she was angry, it struck terror in me.
I am happy that my sisters and family wanted to reunify. They have very big, kind, and generous hearts. The picture of my birth mother is now sitting in a place where I see it every morning. Framed, she appears happier, if only in my imagination. Sometimes I’m pained to look at the photo. Other times, I’m filled with such curiosity. I wish that I knew more about her, and I wonder what she was like, what she enjoyed, if she was happy, how she managed when I was relinquished unknowingly by my birth father…did she ever think about me? There is nothing that I can do but wonder…
I cannot begin to tell you how relieved I am that my second year in graduate school has just ended! I’m now taking full advantage of some R & R. Over the summer, I plan to catch up on some reading. Before I explain more, I wanted to go back to my last post, “what’s in a name?” I completed the paperwork to legally change my middle name to my given birth name, Hsiao-ling; however, upon filing the paperwork at the court, I was informed of a $340 fee attached to the process. I didn’t expect the fee to be so costly and will have to wait to finish this process at a later time. It’s truly disappointing.
Anyhow, I’m embarking on another small adventure. When I first learned about my true identity, I experienced many mixed emotions- shock, surprise, elation but I was also very confused. I know that my birthparents lived in Guangxi (广西), which is situated in the southern part of China. I don’t know when they moved to Taiwan, but know that I was born in Taipei in August 1966, the same month and year that China’s Communist leader, Mao Zedong, launched what became known as the Cultural Revolution. I also know that my birth father served in the military, but do not know to what capacity. I have so many questions, but the path to my past brings up very painful memories for my biological sisters. I am thankful for what my eldest sister was willing to share with me.
I decided to take on a reading challenge and am reading books written by Chinese and Taiwanese authors, fiction and non-fiction, or books that depict Chinese culture or history over the summer. Although I was born in Taiwan, my birthparents were originally from China. I just finished reading “The Ghost Bride” by Yangsze Choo. I loved the story – it is a work of fiction with elements of fantasy, folklore, and Chinese culture that I very much enjoyed reading. I learned about some of the superstitions and beliefs in Chinese folklore, especially in regards to the “afterlife” and honoring one’s ancestors. I found it overall to be a very fun and entertaining read. Currently I’m reading “Peony in Love” by Lisa See. See is not a Chinese author, however her works often describe some period of Chinese history and culture. The story is based on actual historical events and goes back to seventeenth-century China after the Manchus seize power and the end of the Ming dynasty. I cannot imagine living under such oppressive conditions for women, who basically had no rights.
I’m concurrently reading “The Good Women of China: hidden voices” by Xinran. Xinran is a Chinese journalist/writer. In the book, she captures through oral histories the voices of several Chinese women, all anynomous, who lived during decades of civil strife in a painfully restrictive society. It is an incredibly moving book. The stories shared by these women with Xinran are heartbreaking. I chose to read this book in order to understand how things may have been for my birth mother, who also suffered many hardships. She lived in China most of her life. I hope to gain a better understanding of what life may have been like for her. Perhaps her story could have been one included in Xinran’s book, but I couldn’t be sure.
My roots go back to China where my birthfamily first lived. I don’t know our complete family history, but I think that their move to Taiwan was not under favorable conditions. And I know that their lives in Taiwan were extremely difficult. By summer’s end, I hope to understand a little more about Chinese culture and indirectly about my own biological family or at least what China was like when my birth parents were in their youth. Sadly, I will not be able to travel to Taiwan this year with my own family as I’d planned to visit my sisters and extended family. There’s always 2015 – I do hope I can go back to see my family in Taiwan then. Until then, I will strive to learn more about my origins through reading and research.
When I was growing up in Louisiana, one of the questions I was most often asked by others upon learning that I was adopted was, “so who are your ‘real’ parents?” It was fairly obvious that I was adopted, as I looked nothing like my white parents. I had straight black hair, almond shaped eyes, and skin the color of my dad’s morning cup of coffee. I was usually annoyed by the question each and every time it was asked. My typical response was, “well my parents are my real parents.” My adoptive parents were the only parents I knew. The only parents I would ever know. I have no doubt that other adoptees encounter the same question and perhaps feel the same sense of annoyance.
What baffles me is that I was never curious about my birthparents or place of birth until about two years ago after finding my adoption papers, 40 years after my adoption. This ambivalence was perpetuated by the secrecy surrounding adoption at the time. My adoptive parents never ever talked about my birth heritage or birth family. Hell, I had never even heard the term, “birthfamily.” When I was placed for adoption, it was the beginning of the end of any connection to my birth country, to my birthfamily, to my cultural roots. After my adoption, all cultural ties were severed. I would never know that my birthparents were from China, but forced to leave the country and build a new life in Taiwan, that I had two older biological sisters and an older biological brother. I believe that my adoptive parents did everything possible to keep my past hidden from me, and for years, it would remain so. Then one day, the truth came out, or at least part of it. And when it did, it was the beginning of a new chapter in my life.
This afternoon, I went with some friends who are visiting from California to see a movie, “Philomena,” starring Judi Dench and Steve Coogan. It was a heartbreaking movie, although there was some humor between the characters that lightened things up. It is based on the true story of Philomena Lee, an Irish woman who, as a teenager, had a romantic fling with a boy at a carnival and became pregnant. Rejected by her own family, she is sent to a convent where she gives birth to a son, Anthony, and is forced to work with other young girls in order to work off the penance of their “sins.” The girls are allowed to see their children for only one hour a day. What is even more tragic is one day, Philomena watches helplessly as her three-year-old boy is taken away by a rich American couple without as much as a goodbye. The convent was in the business of selling babies to wealthy Americans and having the young mother’s sign contracts that they could never seek the whereabouts of their children. This abominable practice is historical, unfortunately. Fifty years later, Philomena is still tormented by the loss of her son and the desire to find him. She unwittingly connects with dejected political journalist, Martin Sixsmith, portrayed by Steve Coogan, who agrees to help her find her son, primarily for the tabloid possibilities of a human interest story. What follows is a tender story of loss, reconciliation, forgiveness, and ultimately acceptance.
I know some adoptees hated this film, but it really resonated with me, despite the creative license that was taken to make it more dramatic. The story of deep loss and grief was what hit me. The depiction of such a tremendous loss experienced by a woman whose child was taken away from her was so real. I felt the loss as if it were my own. So often adoption is portrayed as a happy event, yet rarely do we see the other side of adoption from the perspective of the birth mother who is forced to relinquish her child. One of the most memorable lines comes when Philomena decides to go to America with Martin Sixsmith in hopes of finding her son. Philomena says, “I’d like to know if Anthony ever thought of me…I’ve thought of him everyday.”
Since learning about my birthparents in Taiwan, I’ve often wondered if my birth mother ever thought of me. How can it not be so? Philomena answered this question for me. The separation between a mother who is forced to give up her child and the child who is relinquished causes a wound that is easily re-opened again and again. I will never know my birth mother. She and my biological father died before I had the chance to meet them. I have often wondered about her, like what her favorite color was, what kind of music she liked, what kind of personality she had, was she happy, did we bond at all while I was still with her? I was told by my sisters in Taiwan that she was a teacher, she enjoyed learning and classical music. Unbeknownst to her, my birth father, took me to the orphanage and relinquished me without her consent. I often wonder how it all happened, if he felt anything at all when leaving me at the orphanage to languish. My sisters tell me that our mother never talked about what happened, but it deeply affected her, emotionally and psychologically. When we met for the first time in Taipei, they gave me photos of our mother and father. I felt that there was such sadness behind my birth mother’s eyes.
Philomena eventually learns that the life her son attains after his adoption is much more affluent than anything she could have ever provided for him. She recognizes this fact and is happy that he grew up having opportunities that he would not have had otherwise. This is the reason why many adoptees are placed for adoption, including me. It’s quite the phenomenon when you are given everything you could possibly need and want, yet still feel a hole somewhere deep inside you, like there is a part of you that’s missing. It’s still there to this day. I’ve learned to accept it, or perhaps even ignore it so I can deal with life.
I think that many adoptees wonder why they were given up or abandoned. Questions like, “was it because I was unwanted, was it forced, was I ever thought of afterwards?” are not uncommon. Unfortunately, many adoptees will never know the answers because of a lack of documentation, abandonment or falsification of records. Finding my birthfamily brought me one step closer to the truth and to answering some of those questions. Yet, the whole truth is still so elusive. I will always have questions about my birthparents and my birthfamily. Answers are not so easy to come by.
In the movie, Martin Sixsmith quotes T.S. Eliot toward the end of Philomena’s journey,
“The end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.”
I thought how very apt this quote was. Philemona started her journey at the convent and, in the end, returns to it. My journey began in an orphanage in Taiwan. Two years ago, I returned to the city of my birth to be reunited with my birth/first family. I arrived at the place where it all started, yet only just began to know the place for the first time. Though I will never be able to meet my birth mother, I believe that she thought about me. There is no longer any doubt in my mind.
“Today, this Parliament, on behalf of the Australian people, takes responsibility and apologises for the policies and practices that forced the separation of mothers from their babies, which created a lifelong legacy of pain and suffering…” National Apology for Forced Adoptions by Julia Gillard, Prime Minister of Australia, March 21, 2013
Adoption has gotten a lot of rap in the media lately. Unfortunately, not the kind of rap that tells of happy “forever families.” They are stories of adoption that have gone tragically awry. I’m speaking of the Adoptive Couple v. Baby Girl (Veronica) and the Hana Williams cases, both heart wrenching in their own right. There is yet another story that has captured my attention and that of other adoptees. It’s of a national apology issued on March 21, 2013 by former Australian Prime Minister, Julia Gillard, to birth mothers/fathers, adoptees, and others affected by forced adoptions that took place in Australia primarily during the 1950s, 60s and 70s. The excerpt above is the opening sentence of the apology delivered by Gillard. I was intrigued, first of all, that a government would publicly take responsibility for their share in such a scandal and apologize, but also seek to make reparations to those whose lives have been irreversibly affected. Second, I wanted to know how these events occurred, what has changed since in adoption practice, what prompted the government to finally act, and what is currently being done?
“We deplore the shameful practices that denied you, the mothers, your fundamental rights and responsibilities to love and care for your children. You were not legally or socially acknowledged as their mothers. And you were yourselves deprived of care and support. To you, the mothers who were betrayed by a system that gave you no choice and subjected you to manipulation, mistreatment and malpractice, we apologise. We say sorry to you, the mothers who were denied knowledge of your rights, which meant you could not provide informed consent. You were given false assurances. You were forced to endure the coercion and brutality of practices that were unethical, dishonest and in many cases illegal. We know you have suffered enduring effects from these practices forced upon you by others. For the loss, the grief, the disempowerment, the stigmatisation and the guilt, we say sorry.” National Apology for Forced Adoptions by Julia Gillard, March 21, 2013
Recently, a national research study was conducted by a team of Australian researchers to examine experiences of past adoption practices as they relate to the current support and service needs of affected individuals. It was a mixed methods study utilizing a series of large-scale quantitative surveys and in-depth qualitative interviews with those affected by closed adoption (in Australia), including birth mothers and fathers, adoptees, adoptive parents and extended family members. The researchers also engaged with representative bodies, service providers and relevant professionals, including psychologists, counselors and social workers.
According to the study, adoption practice in Australia from the mid-20th century was enshrouded in secrecy, and the concept of having a “clean break” from the birth parents was idealized as the right solution. Unwed single women who were pregnant were encouraged–rather forced–to “give up” their babies for adoption. These women were stigmatized as “unfit” mothers due to their status as single, unwed and pregnant. The adoption practices at that time were referred to as “closed adoption.” This meant that an adopted child’s original birth certificate was sealed forever and an amended birth certificate issued that established the child’s new identity and relationship with their adoptive family. Legislative changes in the 1960s tightened these secrecy provisions, ensuring that neither party, the birth mother nor adoptive family, saw each other’s names. At its peak in 1971–72, there were almost 10,000 adoptions in Australia. It has been cited that more than 250,000 Australian women had “relinquished” a baby for adoption since the late 1920s, although it is not known what proportion of these adoptions involved force, coercion, or other unethical or illegal behaviors (Kenny, P. Higgins, D., Soloff, C., Sweid, R. (2012). Past adoption experiences: National Research Study on the Service Response to Past Adoption Practices. Research Report 21. Melbourne: Australian Institute of Family Studies. ISBN978-1-922038-05-0).
Mothers who were coerced into closed adoptions were subjected to unauthorized separation from their children, later to become known as “forced adoption.” From the 1970s, advocacy led to legislative reforms that overturned the secrecy within adoption, such as mothers receiving identifying information. However, it was not until further changes were made in the 1980s (1990s in some Australian jurisdictions) that information on birth parents was made available to adopted children/adults. Further changes took place in 1976 when state/territory-based registers were established for both birth parents and adopted children who wished to make contact. And, in 1984, Victoria implemented legislation granting adopted persons over the age of 18 the right to access their birth certificate (subject to mandatory counseling). Similar changes followed in other states/territories.
In the study, birth mothers reported numerous accounts of maltreatment including, “experiences of abuse or negligence by hospital and/or maternity home staff, administration of drugs that impaired their capacity, lack of the ability to give or revoke consent, not being listened to about their preferences, and being made to feel unworthy or incapable of parenting, particularly from authority figures.” Physicians and nurses used highly unethical methods to prevent mothers from seeing their babies, such as not allowing the mother to hold or feed the baby. They frequently lied to mothers telling them that their babies had died, did not allow a mother to see the baby through active shielding with a sheet or other physical barrier during birth, or removed the baby or mother from the ward immediately after birth. The traumatization of these experiences caused many mothers to feel emotions such as grief, loss, shame and secrecy surrounding their experiences. The next excerpt is just one of several accounts from young mothers who share their painful stories. Please be advised before reading it that the information contained here may cause distress for some.
“I have gone through my life feeling guilty about my daughter being given up to adoption … If only I was able to have more support instead of being forced … From the time my hands were shackled to the bed to stop me from touching my baby’s head while she was being born, and pillows and sheets being put over my face until I was in a drug-enforced sleep to stop me from being a nuisance … Then the memory of waking up in a ward with three other young girls, … all in the same position as me … That room had baby weighing scales in there … The nurses brought babies in there to weigh them … We would all sit up and try and see the babies … We were all told not to bother because the babies weren’t ours … I will never ever forget that!!! I couldn’t understand why we were in that room … How could another human being be so cruel to another … Such painful memories.” (Kenny, P. Higgins, D., Soloff, C., Sweid, R. (2012). Past adoption experiences: National Research Study on the Service Response to Past Adoption Practices. Research Report 21. Melbourne: Australian Institute of Family Studies. ISBN978-1-922038-05-0).
As I continued to explore the information available about this dark period in adoption history, it reminded me of other horrific events that have occurred in the past that were later brought to the surface. I know that no one was sent to the gas chamber, yet so many young, frightened women were tortured psychologically, emotionally, and even physically in a way that most of us have not nor ever will be. And that the Australian government was willing to acknowledge such abuse is quite amazing to me. I have to admit that I was somewhat skeptical as to why the government was now taking responsibility, but the fact that they did so is a step closer toward healing for all those many, many individuals affected.
“We recognise that the consequences of forced adoption practices continue to resonate through many, many lives. To you, the siblings, grandparents, partners and other family members who have shared in the pain and suffering of your loved ones or who were unable to share their lives, we say sorry. Many are still grieving. Some families will be lost to one another forever. To those of you who face the difficulties of reconnecting with family and establishing ongoing relationships, we say sorry. We offer this apology in the hope that it will assist your healing and in order to shine a light on a dark period of our nation’s history. To those who have fought for the truth to be heard, we hear you now. We acknowledge that many of you have suffered in silence for far too long.” National Apology for Forced Adoptions by Prime Minister, Julia Gillard, March 21, 2013
So what are the next steps? Following the national apology by Prime Minister Gillard, the National Archives established a project team to deliver a website, exhibition and education program with 2 main purposes: to increase awareness and understanding of experiences of individuals affected by forced adoption practices and to identify and share experiences of forced adoption. The Forced Adoptions History Project website was launched in March 2014. At this website, a link is provided for individuals who would like to share their stories, which may be included in the project. In 2015, an exhibition will follow to be launched at the National Archives in Canberra. And last but not least, as part of her apology, Prime Minister Gillard announced that $5 million (£3.4 million) would be provided to improve access to specialist support and to help records-tracing and mental health care for those affected by forced adoption. Surely this cannot repair all of the damage suffered by so many women. Yet it is a step in the right direction.
I hope that as a result of the national apology issued by the Australian government, mothers who were forced to give up their children find some solace in knowing that their pain, grief, and loss has at last been acknowledged. That they were in no way at fault, that their voices deserve to be heard, and that reparations must be made. I fear that unethical practices in international adoption continue to exist in certain parts of the country and that the only way to prevent this immorality is to advocate, advocate, advocate for ethical adoption practices. There is more that must be done. To birth mothers everywhere who have been forced to give up a child, I grieve with you and wish you a lifetime of healing.
Musings of a Taiwanese American Adoptee 