‘The Only Thing Is’: Racism, Adoption, Reunion, and Independence
This story is included in the Preface of my doctoral dissertation, “‘What makes a great story?’: Multidisciplinary and international perspectives on digital stories created by youth formerly in foster care in Canada” (York University, 11 Apr. 2022)
My first-hand experience as an adoptee informed the writing of my doctoral dissertation on many levels. It impacted how I co-facilitated digital storytelling workshops with youth formerly in care. It also influenced how and why I chose to interview a diverse group of people about digital stories created by youth formerly in care. As an artist, researcher, and educator, it is important to me that I feel connected to my mind, body, spirit, and soul, and not only the academic side of my life (hooks, 1994). In “Teaching to Transgress” the late bell hooks said, “…teachers must be actively committed to a process of self-actualization that promotes their own wellbeing if they are to teach in a manner that empowers students” (1994, p. 15). This is my story.
On February 22, 1984, my parents picked me up at the Children’s Aid Society in Guelph, Ontario. It was only five days after my birthday, but it was two years after they experienced the devastating loss of their son, who was 2 ½ when he died. A couple of days after I was born, my mom received a phone call at work. The woman on the phone said that she was calling from the Children’s Aid Society, and she said something like, “We have a child for you to adopt. She is a baby girl. The only thing is, she has a brown complexion.” In response, my mom said, “That doesn’t matter – we will adopt her.”
Language about ethnicity differs quite a bit now. In the past couple of years, the acronym “BIPOC” has evolved to acknowledge the oppression that Black and Indigenous Peoples experience specifically, alongside People of Colour (POC) (Garcia, 2020). Yet, it is still a heavily contested term that is apt to evolve. The birth record that my parents were given when they picked me up describes the ethnicities of my birth mother, maternal grandparents, aunt, and uncle by the origin of their ancestors: Norwegian and Scottish. By contrast the ethnicity of my birth father and my paternal grandparents, aunt, and uncle include descriptors about their medium to dark skin tones, including the phrase, and derogatory term (spelled incorrectly), “of malatto (mulatto) racial origin.” Upon realizing this, I created a digital artwork using the phrase, and repeating it 35 times (my age at the time of completing the artwork) (see Figure 1). Given this, I was curious to know about my paternal biological family’s heritage.
In 1986, on the children’s television show, “Sesame Street”, Susan and Gordon adopted a baby boy named Miles. I was filled with questions after watching the episode. By then, I knew that I was different than my white, European Canadian parents. My mom cleverly used the story and a book, “Susan and Gordon Adopt a Baby” by Judy Freudberg and Tony Geiss (1986) to tell me about my adoption story. After learning about my adoption, I remember feeling reassured that my parents were still “my parents” and that I could be who I am. Growing up with this backstory was not easy.
My paediatrician was South African. He guessed that I was maybe South African too; my mom also supported me with learning about Black and South East Asian history. Yet, in our small city of Guelph, Ontario, most parents looked like their children. Most of my friends looked like their parents. I knew that I was different. Gradually, the racism that I experienced and that my parents experienced with me in public places, took an emotional toll. As a mixed-race adoptee, it was difficult experiencing racism and not knowing how to defend myself.
In 1998, my mom shared my adoption records with me and asked if I wanted to meet my birth mother. We did not know that it would be possible to meet my birthfather or his family, as it was uncommon to do that in adoption reunions (Latchford, 2019; Verrier, 1993). In July 1998, I met my birth mother and her immediate family. At our reunion in a local park, she told me that she had kept in touch with my birth father off and on throughout the years, and that they happened to have spoken only a couple of months earlier.
Two weeks later, I met my birth father too. Initially, I wanted to meet my biological parents so that I could learn more about my heritage and why I was given up for adoption. Then, I thought I could continue in my life, with some reassurance that I knew a bit more about my heritage. The emotions I felt after each reunion were confusing, partially because of the grief of not knowing these people who created me and not having a choice in the matter, and from the excitement of thinking about the memories that we could start creating together.
When I met my birth father, I learned about my South African heritage for the first time. Mixed race adoptees experience “racial stigma” (Loury, 2005) – stigma for not knowing about their cultural heritage, and racism for being different. Not knowing about cultural heritage because of colonial practices of erasure creates another barrier to self-discovery (Lugones, 2007). Finding out about my birth father’s heritage was welcoming, empowering, and confusing —why was this information not shared with me, when the other side of my heritage was? I learned that my late grandfather was also a teacher and had 11 brothers and sisters. Since he was the only sibling with a darker complexion, he carried a different “passbook” and he was not allowed to speak with his own family at a party. On a drive in North York, my late paternal grandmother talked about South African people who have ancestors in Java, Indonesia. In 1965, my grandparents immigrated to England, and then to Canada. While visiting my grandmother during March Break in high school, we watched a VHS tape of my grandparents arriving on a large ship in England, waving to their friends at the port. For 14 years, I grew up not knowing why my skin is brown. Suddenly, I had some answers.
Today, I still grieve for the loss of my culture. Despite feeling more connected to the artistic and culinary aspects of it, I still feel like an outsider. To say “it is a journey” to self-discovery, is an understatement. When I went to Johannesburg in November 2011 for a research conference and workshop at the University of the Witwatersrand, one of the first things I did when I got to the place that I was staying was remove my shoes and stand in the grass.
After reuniting with my biological parents and finding out more about my heritage, I have grown to be an independent woman who is comfortable telling her story. I hope that my story helps other mixed race adoptees feel less alone. It would be nearly impossible to undertake this doctoral research without feeling clear about my own adoption story.
As youth workshop participants often said, “There are many missing pieces in my story”. The important aspect about that statement is that they said it and they were heard. By incorporating that sense of missing pieces, they create a coherence and a kind of wholeness despite the missing pieces. This is my story, and knowing it makes me feel whole, strong, proud, and capable to make positive connections with others. By knowing my story, and telling it, I can move forward in my life.
“‘of Malatto Racial Origin’ Repeated 35 Times” (Influenced by the Works of Glenn Ligon), 2018. Digital.
“It may be that when we no longer know what to do we have come to our real work, and that when we no longer know which way to go we have come to our real journey. The mind that is not baffled is not employed. The impeded stream is the one that sings.”
–“Standing by words: Essays,” Wendell Berry (1983)
Edited by Noelle Hope, Put it n Writing, Inc., https://pinwriting.ca
References
Berry, W. (1983). The real work. Standing by Words: Essays.
hooks, b. (1994). Teaching to transgress. New York, NY: Routledge, Taylor & Francis GroupGarcia, S. E. (2020). Where did BIPOC come from? The New York Times. https://www.nytimes.com/article/what-is-bipoc.html
Freudberg, J., & Geiss, T. (1986). Susan and Gordon Adopt a Baby. Random House Books for Young Readers.
Latchford, F. (2019).
Loury, G. C. (2005). Racial stigma and its consequences. Focus, 24(1), 1–6.
Lugones, M. (2007). Heterosexualism and the colonial/modern gender system. Hypatia, 22(1), 186–219.
Verrier, N. N. (1993). The primal wound: Understanding the adopted child. Baltimore, MD: Gateway Press
Bryn Ludlow, PhD, is an African Canadian artist and instructor in the School of Graduate Studies, OCAD University
