I came home from Pact’s TRA Family Camp feeling quite different than in past years. In previous years, I have been left with uneasy feelings of disappointment and sometimes seething anger. After spending a week with adoptive parents who seemed to resist the lessons that adult transracial adoptees have tried to impart, we adult adoptee speakers have felt frustrated and nervous saying goodbye to the children who remind us of ourselves. This year, however, I left with a feeling of having my words not only heard, but more to the point, accepted. I’ve been trying to figure out why there is such a dramatic difference in my camp experience this year.
Part of the reason for the feelings of comfort and healing that I went away with this year is due to my confidence in the growing movement of adult transracial adoptees. We are finding each other through conferences and camps and creating ways to stay connected, through the Internet (e.g., through sites such as Face Book, My Space, through our personal blogs, and through ongoing email exchanges). It is empowering and comforting to know that another generation of adult adoptee speakers, activists, and scholars is following on my heels. At times, I feel old, like an elder in this burgeoning community. But feeling old is not always a negative experience, as long as I get some respect!
Also, I am aware that the leadership at Pact has articulated a shift in their own thinking, especially since attending the St. John’s University adoption conference last October in 2006. It is interesting to note that this pivotal conference was organized by a committee in which adult adoptees played major leadership roles. A lot of the credit goes to Dr. Amanda Baden, a grown-up international adoptee who now works as a professor and psychologist. The days of adoptive parent-dominated conferences are dwindling, as adult adoptees step into leadership positions, and it makes a huge difference on a number of levels.
Dr. Amanda Baden and Dr. John Raible, who first met at Pact Camp in 2002.
At past camps run by Pact, adoptive parents and non-adopted professionals have been the keynote speakers and main session presenters. Transracial adoptees typically were relegated to slots on panels, where we vied for attention and played off each other’s personal stories. Sometimes we worked ourselves into a frenzy, particularly when we encountered resistance from the white adoptive parents in the audience. We felt like we had to “bleed” and cry all over the stage in order for parents to grasp the seriousness of our message. We felt like we had little time and so much to impart, and our anxiety tended to rise as time ran out and we felt like our message still hadn’t gotten through.
Another thing that was different this year is that adult adoptee presenters were paid a modest but not insignificant honorarium for our services. Being treated as the professionals that we have become makes a difference. Instead of being seen as volunteers who give and give to a resistant audience, I went into this camp experience understanding my role as a professional trainer. Knowing that I had been contracted to share my expertise allowed me to focus on the message I wanted to give during my allotted time. Professionalizing the relationship between adult adoptee presenters and adoptive parent organizers does matter.
When I arrived at camp, I was pleasantly surprised to see head after head of beautifully braided, twisted, dreadlocked, and corn-rowed hair, on girls as well as boys. I liken the state of black and biracial (black/other) children’s hair, in particular, to the proverbial canary in the coalmine. That is, how parents are caring for their transracially adopted children’s hair says a lot about their mindset and their commitment to embracing diversity and learning new ways of parenting. To me (and I’m sure to other African Americans who are watching), it signals that white parents have taken to heart the urgency of preparing their children to enter and fit into the black community, along with helping their children to feel good about themselves and their heritage. At camp this year, I saw very few little girls with their hair shaved off, making them look like boys, or just ignored and allowed to go wild. On the contrary, I talked to many girls about where they got their hair done, and relished the pride and confidence they exuded when they told me about going to the salon or a neighbor’s home or even getting it done at camp by Lisa Marie and her colleagues.
Another factor allowing me to feel safer and therefore more relaxed was the visible presence of a critical mass of adult adoptees—some transracial adoptees, others same-race adoptees. Adoptees worked as camp counselors with the children’s groups and as presenters with the parents. Susan Ito, an adult adoptee, is now Pact’s coordinator of the entire camp. Both Susan and Beth Hall, Pact’s director, spoke with me about the shift in their thinking that occurred after the St. John’s University Conference (again, thanks in large measure to the organizing efforts of adult adoptee Amanda Baden).
Beth Hall and Susan Ito, Pact Camp leaders and true allies to transracial adoptees.
At the St. John’s conference, adult adoptees were featured prominently as keynote speakers and workshop presenters, while adoptive parents played a more appropriate lesser role. At Pact Camp, the Adult Adoptee Dinner was one of the highlights of the week. Pact treated us to a night out away from camp where we could let our hair down, get to know new faces and reconnect with old friends and colleagues, and generally have a relaxing good time with each other as fellow adoptees. It felt to me a bit exclusionary, but at the same time, I did enjoy spending time in rare “adoptees only” space. I knew I could find opportunities to hang out with non-adopted allies in other times and places.
Because of my recent research with non-adopted white siblings in transracial families, I paid attention to the white and non-adopted kids at camp. I think more could be done to address their experiences directly, like having a session just for them, perhaps where they could meet with me (as a researcher of the sibling experience) and with adult siblings (like some of the adoptive parents who grew up as sisters and brothers to adopted kids). One non-adopted boy told me that he felt okay at camp because “It’s not like we’re talking about adoption all the time.” As a multicultural educator, I know that it’s educationally useful for the white campers to be surrounded and outnumbered by black and brown campers during the week, giving them a feel for what their siblings most likely experience back in the real world. At the same time, I do think it could be helpful for the non-adopted siblings to have a forum where they can talk and share notes on the burdens and joys of growing up in transracial adoptive families. It would be great if Pact could find some young adults who are non-adopted siblings to be camp counselors, to serve as role models for all the campers, adopted and non-adopted alike.
Finally, the emotional tone of camp felt different this year. I know that for myself, I prepared myself mentally and spiritually to stay open, patient, and compassionate towards parents. I appreciate that adoptive parents are present at camp, which is no small expense or commitment of time. I honor the fact that they came to learn, and more importantly, to support their children’s development. I cherish the private conversations I had with some parents, who told me of how Pact has changed them for the better, empowering them, for example, to relocate to more diverse neighborhoods (in one family’s case, moving across country from Maine to the San Francisco Bay Area!). Others told me how they have joined African American churches and enrolled their kids in predominantly black schools. Parents talked movingly about what Pact Camp means to their sons and daughters, and how different some of the adopted children behave at camp compared to back in Whitesville. I am convinced that Pact Camp is making a difference in the lives of these families, and as one who has long been concerned about transracially adopted children, I am proud to be part of such an innovative post-adoption services family education project.
As I said in the new (award-winning!) video (Struggle For Identity: A Conversation 10 Years Later), we are asking much of adoptive parents: to learn about race and racism, white privilege, and racial identity, AND to learn about adoption issues such as rejection and loss, abandonment and attachment, and the resultant challenging behavioral issues, all of which amount to a huge ongoing educational undertaking. I applaud the families that continue to come to camp, as well as the first-timers who probably had no idea how intense the week was going to be! One mom said on the last day that, as a good liberal, she thought she “got it” before she came to camp, but that her experience at camp has now altered her thinking in ways she could not have imagined. Another mom stated very clearly how she has learned what she needs to be doing to better support her daughter’s development, and to work actively against racism as a white ally. This kind of feedback makes me feel that I have been heard, and actually strengthens my optimism. I feel reassured that, working together, we can figure out how to create the kind of multicultural and integrated, harmonious and mindful anti-racist community that all of us want for ourselves and for our children—and that such a community is possible to achieve in our lifetime. Transracial adoptees are leading the way, a way made possible in large part by our non-adopted allies.
With some trepidation (based on fellow TRAs’ experiences), I am allowing comments about this post. Be nice!
