I guess I need to clarify more

Exhibit A: A feminist message board is discussing adoption: domestic or international? Someone says "I'd adopt internationally. It would suck to bring home a baby and take care of it for months only to have the crack whore who gave it up in the first place take it back."

Exhibit B: "Dear Birthmother: Screw you. Do you think I want to beg a complete stranger for a kid whose own mother doesn't want him? You messed up and now you sit in judgement of the perfect parents for your baby." A real quote from an adoptive mother's memoir.

Exhibit C: Many, many personal comments to us about the kind of person our daughter's mother must be: promiscuous, irresponsible, lazy, etc. Many, many comments to the effect that we are brave to take on someone else's problem.

This is the discourse I am talking about below. It's a discourse that I'd just as soon not contribute to, no matter how much pain I've suffered.

In the case of A, someone is lashing out at the idea of first mothers. Maybe she's got some negative experience in her personal history that makes her bitter. I say, so what? I really don't care. I mean it. You all can say I'm lacking compassion for her pain, but you know what? If she shared her pain with me, I'd be the very soul of compassion. Her pain doesn't buy her the right to say nasty things about women who place their children for adoption. I don't even care if she knows of a specific case like her hypothetical. This is an oversimplified representation of that case, and it errs on the side of making things worse, not better.

In the case of B, someone is bitter and angry and hurting about her infertility. Again, I say so what? I don't care how much pain you have suffered, it does not buy you the right to be an ass about someone else who has nothing to do with your pain, and is most likely experiencing the worst pain of her own life at the same time. Take your pain and turn it into compassion for others who are also suffering. You can't do that right away? Of course you can't. I have been in that kind of completely solipsistic pain, myself. But I didn't write and publish a book lashing out at an inappropriate target while I was there, either. Consider that this book is going to be read by many, many propsective adoptive parents--it's target audience, in fact--and this woman is really behaving irresponsibly with power.

In the case of C, there is more than just anger that leads people to say these kinds of things. But the nasty attitudes expressed on CNN and Fox news and less obvious, more sneaky places like "Law and Order" or the Lifetime channel do come from a hostility towards others and a tendancy to blame victims (poor immigrants, poor urban-dwelling minorities, virtually powerless girls, etc.) for the problems caused in fact, much more by the greed of those with the power to actually change things.

My anger lies with them--those with the power to change things who choose instead to enrich themselves and make scapegoats of people with little voice to protest. So I see C as ultimately a case of misplaced anger too.

Those of you who are saying you don't see this, or haven't seen it--where are you living? Because I see this attitude as dominant. Perhaps what you mean is that it is so dominant that you cease to notice it; it is as ubiquitous as the air we breathe.

Ultimately, I realized, while sitting in church yesterday, that I am giving my readers here a very truncated version of my story (the story that lies behind my feelings about first parents, anger, etc.). My attitudes about this are ultimately rooted in theological ideas like what is called "option for the Poor."

"Option for the Poor" is a liberation theology idea. It essentially says that God is "on the side" of the people with the least power. My knee-jerk response when looking for a side to take is the side with the least power. And that includes times when I personally, individually may lose something by siding this way. I know that people in the position to adopt often feel like they are powerless. But they are not. Most often, they are people who have a lot of power, but have lost a piece of that power--assumed fertility for example. Generally speaking, however, adopters have more power than prospective first parents. Flood me with your exceptions, but that is the fundamental, basic truth.

Adopters have: the resources to adopt. These are often financial resources that, given the same, would allow first parents to keep their children. Other times, they are community resources that make the financial requirements of adoption possible. Other times they are "cultural" resources like education, professional careers, etc.; things that make them "fit" parents according to bourgeois norms. These are resources prospective first parents often don't have. Other times race is on the side of adoptive parents. They have white privilege prospective first parents don't have.

We aren't medically infertile that we know of, but we are socially infertile in the sense that we can't get each other pregnant in the privacy of our bedroom. We are legally infertile in many (the vast majority, in fact) states that will not allow both of us to be our daughter's legal parent. Those things could make me angry and quite often do. And I lay that anger at the feet of the political and social forces responsible for it. But I do not confuse my lack of power in these areas for an overall lack of power that my whiteness, education, community resources, and financial status afford me. A prospective first parent may have the "power" to choose or not choose me from the prospective adopter's pool, or she may have the power to unchoose me and keep her child when it is born. But here I am back in the pool of people with the power to adopt, rather than people struggling to decide whether thay have enough resources to parent their own children. That group of people have done nothing to earn my wrath.

Here, clarified again for your edification is what I'm NOT saying:

I'm not saying anger is not a stage of a grieving process, including grieving a lost expected or hoped-for placement; including grieving your assumed fertility.

I'm not saying you should deny or squash your anger when it is part of that grief process.

I'm not saying systems like child welfare in general, like specific agency procedures, like social workers' training or home study preparations are not worthy of anger when they fail to act in the best interest of children, with respect and compassion for all involved.

I'm not saying that I don't care about the pain you have suffered while trying to conceive.

I'm not saying adoptive parents are "vultures."

I am saying that I will not add to a discourse that places anger unjustly at the feet of people with less power than me. I am disgusted when I see people lash out at those who have the least voice to answer them and most often have little or nothing to do with the cause of the anger. It turns what might have been my compassion to feeling defensive on behalf of the unfair objects of anger.

I am saying that no one's suffering buys them the right to hurt others or to disregard another's suffering. If you want compassion, extend compassion. That is what I'm saying. Feel whatever you feel. But don't make a choice in public that contributes to a tired discourse that is at bottom, unjust.

****

P.S. Please don't assume what I have or haven't been through in terms of suffering, or anything else for that matter. There are plenty of things--including aspects of our adoption process--that I do not (and will not) blog about.



Update
Ah yes, see what I mean? Exhibit D happened yesterday:
I am pushing Nat in the swings chatting with two other moms in a mothers' group I recently joined and am trying with all my might to make friends in. Mom #1 is asking about our adoption (reasonably politely, although not without the required inquiry in front of my child as to whether or not her "real mother can take her back?") and I am being nice and educational. Mom #2 says, "I knew someone who adopted and [imagine nasty, scornful tone here] those birth parents took their sweet time about signing the papers!" I wanted to yell "yeah well how much time would you need when deciding whether to give your daughter away???" but it didn't seem like a good way to make friends. Instead, I said "well, I wouldn't want someone to rush such a big decision!" Then I inquired further about the circumstances of the adoption she invoked. Turns out a private adoption facilitator lied to the adoptive parents and sent the baby home with them before relinquishments were final. There's where you lay the scorn, folks. In the end, the adoption happened, by the way.

Comments

[Trista]

Yes. It's not that you feel the anger that's the problem, it's what you do with it... do you vent your anger to the world, stir up a discourse of bitterness, labelling, and oversimplification that obscures the real problems and the real axes of power and subjugation. Or do you work on healing, learning, spreading compassion, and working to relieve oppression in whatever small ways you can? It's all in what you choose to do with what you're feeling, and not that you're feeling it in the first place.

[Lisa]

I've been reading this topic with interest, not sure if I really have anything to contribute because I am neither an adoptive mom or a birthmom.

But then I thought, yes I am a birthmom. I am a birthmom that decided to keep my children. I won't go into my whole story here, but essentially, I am a low-income and disabled single mom that was very surprised and scared to find out that I was having twins. I never even got to the steps of pursuing adoption officially, but that didn't stop a lot of people from suggesting it.
Many people were very surprised and often dismayed when they found out I was pg. And many people made judgmental comments and even suggested that I give one or both up. One person said, "Just keep the first one that pops out and give up the second one, then you won't have to decide." Another person, who I believe has dealt with infertility and have chosen not to pursue adoption or infertility treatments, said to me, "Well, how nice. Lots of people can't have kids and then people like you get two." And another, rather snarkily said to me that she would have ten children if she could afford them, but she wouldn't be so selfish to bring children into the world without money (she has a lot of it and probably could afford ten children, though it would change their standard of living.)

I don't know if people understand how hard it is to go through a pregnancy with no or very little support, with everyone putting you down. And I really wasn't even considering adoption, everyone else was doing it for me. I can't imagine the pressure of actually having a family waiting.

When I was a little kid, like 8, I remember watching TV and seeing starving African children. I naively thought that if someone from America just went there, mothers would be begging the wonderful Americans to take their children back to America. I thought someday I would be one of those American saviors. Now, of course, I understand how silly that is. First to assume that the African mother wouldn't be a wonderful mother and that she would have so many ways to love and share her world with her child. And second, that the answer would be just for America to go to Africa and take the children, rather than treating the third world equitably and helping to stabling their economies so those mother's wouldn't have to struggle to feed their children. I see some of my 8 year old thinking in the comments that Shannon used as examples. That we bear no responsibility towards the situation that these women are in and we need only use their misfortune to fulfill our own needs.

There is a HUGE bias in this country against anyone who does not live in middle, mainstream america in regards to children. I see it all the time. I'm a good mom and my kids are happy, healthy, well-fed and educated. And we do it on around $20,000 a year and we do it with me single and with both parents being disabled. If we had to do it on less, which would mean more welfare and services, we'd still be good parents and our kids would still have a healthy stable environment to grow up in. Poor and minority does not always equal bad. Sometimes-shock!-we even make better families than those rich, white neighbors of ours. And if someone chooses to raise their baby rather than give them up, it would be nice if they had the community support to do so, instead of the community attitude that makes it even harder for them. If people really cared about what is best for the children, they would support women's choices and lift her up rather than try to drag her down.

Being infertile and having an adoption fall through must be awful. I can't imagine. And I understand that there might be anger involved in the grief. But I agree with Shannon. Just assuming that you would be the better mother because perhaps you are richer or more educated than a birth mom is a wrong assumption. Feeling entitled to any child while the mother is going through that difficult process of deciding what is best for her child is something that is hard for me to understand. Feeling angry at the birth mother and making assumptions that she is some kind of irresponsible loser who is crazy not to give up her child is just wrong.

The unfortunate truth is that because power is divided so unequally in this country between classes, in order to support the less empowered usually means giving up some power and entitlement yourself.

How nice it would have been if, instead of looking upon my children with disdain and talking about how I am going to fail them because I don't look like your typical family, people would have welcomed them into the world and supported their mother to be the best she could be. That is what happens when middle and upper class families have babies, right?

Sorry this is so long. Again, I know I speak from a position that is sort of outside the nucleus of these issues, but I wanted to share my thoughts.

[mamamarta]

wow, you sound really really angry.

i'm very sorry if i in some part provoked that.

[Dawn]

I opened that memoir and shut it again because I just couldn't stomach it.

[Am I Nuts?]

I love reading your writing. Thanks for sharing, and putting into words many of my thoughts (as someone who's not yet a parent but thinks really critically about the adoption industry despite being interested in becoming a foster parent and knowing at some point I will probably adopt a foster child)

[Jo in Utah]

Powerful commentary Shannon. I appreciate your willingness to step up to an unpopular stance and speak this truth. I struggle with feeling like much of the adoption in America takes place over money. It feels so wrong. I refuse to villify our son's birth mother and find it to be an uncommon choice.

[Libby]

Thank you Shannon.

[Margie]

Shannon, thank you. Thank you for saying this out loud and outright.

There are few things in life that I'm sure of - but one is that the people who gave life to my children deserve my respect. The situation that brought them to adoption deserves my acknowledgment. And the injustice I find in that situation deserves my efforts to redress.

Thanks again.

[Round is Funny]

I just read your update, and WOW. In the few short weeks that Roo has been with us, we've already fielded a number of those kinds of "can she take him back" comments, along with the usual adoption horror story. Asking the "real mom" question in front of my 12-pound babe is plenty obnoxious, but to ask in front of Nat - a verbal, comprehending little person - is just plain disrespectful and rude. It also says a lot about how they see their own children.

[art-sweet]

I would like to believe that the "can she take him back" comments are rooted in empathetic thinking: how painful for her to be separated from her child, how painful for you to be separated from your child.

But I don't think so. And to ask in front of Nat, oh boy am I not looking forward to fielding those. I suspect I will do so considerably less gracefully than you.

Thanks for a great post.

[JB]

This post ties in with a lot of my recent thinking on parenting a child of another race (we adopted from China.) So many people assume we adopted internationally because the birth family (though usually the birth *mother* is all anyone ever thinks about) is "not part of the picture," and we're "safe" from them. I find this such an offensive thing to say. We do everything we can to remember and honor our daughter's birth family (knowing so little about them), and if it becomes possible in the future to have them be part of our lives, we will welcome that eagerly. How can you be afraid of the truth? Or "safe" from it?

I think part of the problem is not wanting to do the work to feel uncomfortable. Thinking about issues like war, social justice, class, gender equality, and human rights makes you uneasy and sweaty-palmed if you're the one in power. Coming face to face with my own privilege has never been fun for me. But it's been the next right thing for me to do, every time. This time, it's the right thing to do, not only for me, but for my daughter. Listening to all the voices I can open my ears to hear -- particularly the quiet and the small ones -- is a good first step.

[Helene]

Not everyone who places is a "victim"; not everyone who places does so because of finances or because they are young!

There are many reason why a woman or family my place a child. Your post had some valid pionts but I beleive you forgot to mention that for SOME adoption is a way of life. I have read many, many forums where the bmom is placing her second child while parenting another-to me this is irresponsible. I have also read where bmom meets a new man and doesn't want the child to get in the way of the romance-again, IMO- irresponsible! My point is there are many reason lack of funds is just one of them-not everyone who place is a "victim"

[shannon]

Ah! Exhibit E!

[barb]

thanks for this post. as a birthmother, it is validating to have this point of view out there, from your perspective.