Despite what you might think, there aren’t many children who need to be saved and adoption’s not the best answer.
Women are conditioned from a young age how to think, feel, and be—from our families, the media, and society at large. Minority women are blessed with another layer of that, with race-specific rules. Adoptees get yet another.
For many us, our adoption experiences are key components of our identities. Non-adopted people often take pride in their heritage and ancestry. Since so many adoptees lack the information that should be rightfully ours, there’s a tendency to cling to what we have. I’m one of those adoptees.
Imagine you’re an infant or child left alone in a long, dark tunnel. Your voice cries out, but no one can hear you. You reach out a hand, desperate for the warmth of your mother.
They used to sell miniature horoscope scrolls at our grocery store checkout lanes. Every month, I begged for the chance to read my fate spelled out as fact on pastel paper. I’d spend an hour poring over each word, preparing for what to expect.