Still hoping for change

A few days ago, I received a surprise email from a new student at the university where I work. Her heartfelt message touched me, and she gave me permission to share it with my readers.

I feel grateful that she wrote to me, because it reminded me that the work I have done over the years in the so-called adoption community has made a difference, at least to some people, which is something I often wonder about.

In her message, this student talks about being labeled as a ‘birth mother.’ She alludes to the anguish caused by the momentous decision to place her baby boy for adoption. She basically thanked me for my perspective that tries to bring to the forefront the frequently overlooked participants in the oppressive system that we have come to think of as adoption.

Now that I’ve given you some context, I will share the message sent to me from this birth mother. We agreed that I would not use her name on my blog, for obvious reasons. (And even that right there calls attention to the injustice created through this oppressive system…)

Dear Dr. Raible,

My name is _____. I recently transferred to the university as a nontraditional college student. I was elated to discover that you work for the university as an associate professor. Here’s why:

In 2014, I was pregnant with my first child. It was an unplanned pregnancy, and the only option I had ever considered before this was abortion. But as you know, things change in an instant.

I was contacted by a nonprofit organization in my town at that time that provides services for expectant parents as well as prospective adoptive parents. I soon learned that even before giving birth to my son, I was seen as a birth mother, and trust me, that is a title no one wants to have. Then one day, I came across a quote of yours (please see attached), and it gave me hope, hope that maybe one day birth mothers and birth parents like me will be respected, loved, and held in high esteem, like their children/our children are. Unfortunately, that has not happened for me yet, but I still love looking at your quote from time to time, still hoping for change.

Anyways, I would love to meet with you if you have some time in the next few weeks. Grab a cup of coffee, or whatever works for you. That being said, I look forward to hearing back from you at your earliest convenience!

All my best, ______

She attached the following quote to her email message:

adoption-quote

I plan to ask _______ where she came across the quote. I know that she was not aware of my blog, so I am curious to hear how she found it. I have a few other questions for her, as you might imagine, and I’ll be quite interested to learn more about her perspective and experience.

Anyway, I agreed to get together for coffee, and I will share with her the story of being found recently by my own birth family, thanks to my cousins in California, who took the 23&Me test that finally brought us together.

Damn the agencies, I say. Let’s use the latest advances in DNA science to get around their inhumane policies and the outdated laws they pushed through to keep children from knowing their parents. At the same time, we’ll keep working for justice for adoptees and our first families/birth families.

The power of the pro-adoption lobby that profits literally from the separation of children and parents is intensely hegemonic. The loudest voices in adoption discourse–adopters and those who prey upon them– adoption facilitators, adoption attorneys, and adoption agency executives– make it nearly impossible for us to envision a different way of meeting the needs of children and families in crisis. They make it difficult to imagine how women’s rights, even reproductive rights, include the right to keep and raise one’s children.

Even so, I have come to believe that the days of the pro-adoption lobby are numbered. Mark my words: There will soon come a time when society will eventually awaken to see the adoption business for what it really is: unethical, emotionally and psychologically violent, and essentially untenable from the perspective of human rights. Yet despite their best efforts to maintain business as usual, some of us are still hoping for change.

Latest Gazillion Voices article

Below is a preview of my latest essay just published in the online magazine, Gazillion Voices. I hope readers will find it useful as a way to think about our responsibility to fix, if not abolish, the broken adoption system.

In my latest piece, I really am not attacking anyone. I even include myself as complicit in the problems, especially as an adoptive parent. If each of us involved with adoption were to be face honestly the outdated and flawed ideological underpinnings of adoption, we might be able to transform it. This, in my view, is the only way to ensure that fewer birth/first parents and extended families will lose their children, and fewer adoptees have to suffer adoption’s aftermath.

If you enjoy the preview (maybe “enjoy” is the wrong word), consider subscribing to Gazillion Voices, so you can get the latest hard-hitting and inspiring perspectives on adoption from a variety of voices. Here’s the preview:

Another way of putting it is this: There is no “post-adoption” until we have ended adoption, once and for all. Just as the boarding school experiment for Native American children has been discredited as genocidal, just as the Indian Adoption Program has been disbanded… so too, I anticipate that the transracial and transnational adoption experiments will be replaced by a much more just and humane practice that is less about the business of selling children (and in the process, disrupting extended families of color), and more about ensuring justice and care for the most needy and vulnerable—namely, poor women of color and their children around the world…

Bridging the gap: What should white people say?

Those of us in multiracial families and interracial friendships have a unique role to play. Our voices need to be heard—and I mean that quite literally—perhaps now more than ever. In this post, I offer a few suggestions about how to use the collective power of our voices, especially from white individuals, in order to shift the national conversation about race relations. I further suggest that speaking publicly can actually slow down the widening of the gap that I fear will rip the nation apart.

One of my grandsons, already big for his age at 14 years old, is in the target group that is seen as scary and suspicious by many adults. As a mixed race teenaged male, my grandson looks black. And like Michael Brown (and my son at the same age), he also looks older than he is, and gets treated as such.

happy dadJohn Raible (middle) with teenage sons back in the day.

I was curious to hear what my grandson is making of all the recent coverage in the media. He says that the only reason people are freaking out is because the incident went viral. His mom tells me that he didn’t bother to attend a local protest because, from his perspective, this stuff happens every day. I find myself asking: What will it take for him to become more of an activist? I’d rather see him become an activist for social justice than join the ranks of jaded youth who simply hate the police. Maybe neither outcome will happen unless one of his friends is shot or beat up by the cops. While my grandson and his peers can expect more and more surveillance and some harassment as they progress through the teen years, I hope and pray they are never subjected to that level of victimization.

Since I started blogging about the Ferguson rebellion, which I will remind readers is not “off topic” when it comes to parenting children of color and to the experience of TRAs of all ages, it has been interesting to follow the blog statistics collected by Word Press. Every day, the stats give me some sense of who is reading this blog, and which posts are popular. By far the most widely read post so far has been White adoptive parents and Ferguson’s mayor. Whereas a typical post gets seen by around 150 readers, the one that mentioned white adoptive parents specifically spiked to 480 views (and counting).

On a very personal level, I have some thoughts about what white people of goodwill can do to facilitate racial healing. I remember feeling vulnerable and suspicious after the Zimmerman verdict. I was sitting in an airport lobby waiting to board a plane when the news of the acquittal came out.

For me, and I’m sure for many of us, the news of the verdict was a moment of great anticipation and heightened tension. Sitting behind me watching the news was a white couple, discussing the event as it unfolded on the television screen in the waiting area. I was worried that I was going to be subjected to insensitive or even inflammatory comments from pro-Zimmerman supporters seated nearby. Surrounded by a largely white airport crowd, I found myself defensively steeling myself emotionally. In my head, I rehearsed my response. Just in case.

You may not be able to appreciate the significance of this, but I was pleasantly surprised, and actually touched, to hear the female half of the couple verbalizing empathy for Trayvon’s parents. She uttered out loud so that those of us sitting nearby could hear: “That poor boy. There is no justice. Those poor parents.”

In hindsight, it is obvious how the power of her simple, yet heartfelt utterance helped all of us within earshot to remember the humanity of this tense public moment. I will even go so far as to speculate that her bravery may have silenced the people sitting nearby who agreed with the verdict or who supported Zimmerman. I like to think that this woman’s spoken kindness and expressed empathy made it harder for haters and fear-mongers to voice their views. In doing so, that stranger was my ally, and she probably didn’t even realize it.

The impact of the Zimmerman acquittal was devastating. Watching so many of my fellow Americans rally around Trayvon’s killer left me feeling disgusted, bitter, and frightened. Finding myself sitting alone in that airport lobby, in that moment I really needed an ally. The vocalized empathy from one woman mattered. No longer did I feel so alone. I was reminded that there are still good white people who don’t see all young African Americans as animalistic thugs that deserve to die. It helped me to feel safer in a public space in a moment of heightened vulnerability. It renewed my faith in my fellow Americans, during a critical incident when that faith was flagging.

Right now, in our nation, we are facing yet another critical moment. While many of us have been upset by recent events, people of color in particular have good reason to feel scared, not just angry. Did you see the proud, strong, and passionate (and no doubt scary to some viewers) Elon James White (comedian, blogger, and host of This Week in Blackness) break down on Melissa Harris Perry’s show this morning? I can totally identify with his emotional state right now. Not only do we, as black men and fathers, fear for the safety of our young people. These critical incidents also bring back vivid memories of our own racialized mistreatment at the hands of intimidating bullies, both in uniform and in civilian clothes.

I am telling you, it would be enormously helpful for people of goodwill in this moment to express out loud their empathy and compassion. You don’t have to get into debates about the eyewitness accounts or the looters. What each of us can do, with coworkers, neighbors, and acquaintances, is offer a compassionate word of empathy and quiet encouragement.

Maybe you don’t go up to a random black person and say, “I am on your side” or “I feel your pain.” But can you talk to your friends of any race and say out loud for those around you to witness, as that nice white lady did at the airport, “That boy should not have died”? That simple statement, uttered over and over across this nation—in public, not just behind closed doors—could go a long way to facilitate the process of healing that we sorely need.

And for white adoptive parents of children of color, and members of other multiracial families, now is your moment to come of the closet. If you are white and raising a child of another race, identify yourselves as concerned parents of children of color. Let your fellow whites (as well as people of color) know that you are not all that far removed from the parents of Michael Brown. Talk about the countless victims of police brutality as if you are talking about your own child. This can help disrupt the racial binary that the mainstream media wants to keep smoldering. People need to be reminded that this is not a simple case of blacks against whites, or of good against evil. You can help to humanize the victims of the excessive use of force in the national discourse that keeps vilifying and criminalizing particularly young black males, as if they somehow get what they deserve. As if their parents don’t grieve, and their lives don’t matter.

The words coming from the mouths in white bodies make a powerful difference. I need to hear, and I am certain other people of color feel the same way, white people saying out loud that you do not defend Officer Wilson’s actions. Although it may seem obvious, in this time of crisis and heightened vulnerability, please remind us that not all white people automatically side with the police when these tragedies occur.

Help us to believe that there is still hope for fairness, compassion, and reason. Help us to trust that some whites are not in denial of our children’s lived experience as perpetual suspects. Help us to not succumb to cynicism, despair, and fear. Each of us can take small yet significant steps to express empathy, concern, and compassion. Minimally—I am not even talking about more political expressions of outrage and solidarity with communities of color. That can come later.

And for people wondering about how to convey messages of support to our youth, who are understandably feeling frightened, incensed, attacked, slandered, misunderstood, and perhaps even emotionally abandoned, now is the time to speak up. Again, find ways to voice your disapproval of the overuse of excessive force. Say out loud that you know plenty of good kids of different races. Interrupt the narrative that criminalizes African American youths by showing photos of your children, your students (if you are a teacher), and your own multiracial family. My sister in St. Louis tells me that she has used this tactic when racist comments are made in her presence. It takes courage, but courage is what is called for among allies. Find the strength to speak out on behalf of fairness, empathy, and humanization. Don’t cling to silence and hope that this will all blow over. Each one of us can make a difference. Each one of us can do a small a part in the promotion of healing and national unity.

Thank you for reading this, and thank you for caring and daring.

Related posts:

Young black men, some of us do love you

Where can we feel safe?

Where can we feel safe?

Lately, I’ve been touched by the sight of protest placards with the obvious yet poignant reminder: Black Life Matters. Yet the police response to the recent home invasion reported by NBA star Ray Allen raises more questions about the value of African American families in the eyes of the justice system. The incident gives us yet another view into the double standard applied when African Americans are involved in a crime, whether as suspects, or in this case, as victims.

 

allen1Ray & Shannon Allen with two of their children

According to USA Today and other sources, seven intruders entered the home of Ray Allen late one night while he was away. However, Allen’s wife and four young children were at home. When Shannon Allen awoke to the sound of loud male voices close by (she had been asleep with the kids), she was startled to find herself in the presence of at least five young men. Fearing for the safety of her family, Ms. Allen yelled at the intruders, who fled (some of them laughing). She then dialed 9-1-1 for help.

Police told Ms. Allen that they could not detain the youths because under current laws, an officer has to witness the trespass in order for charges to be brought.

According to the basketball star’s press release, the police also said that the incident was nothing more than a harmless prank. The intruders were not arrested because “there was no intent to commit a crime,” and because the curious teens just wanted to have a look around his mansion.

It took a week for the Allen’s attorney to finally get the police to file charges (still only a misdemeanor, by the way). The story was reported on the CBS News website like this:

Police said Alana Elizabeth Garcia, 18, Jorge Jesus Guerrero, 18, Christian John Lobo, 18, Jonathan Louis Ramirez, 19, Kevin Ramos, 18, Ernesto Romero, 18, and Angel Alejandro, 18, reportedly went into Allen’s Coral Gables home around 2:30 a.m. on Aug. 14, entering through an unlocked door.

Although I’m tempted, I’m not even going to speculate right now. But the cumulative impact of bizarre events reported over the last few weeks is reopening latent concerns. Once more, and I know I’m not alone, I find myself asking, where can African Americans feel safe? Where can we let our children lay their heads without worrying whether uninvited strangers will interrupt their slumber? When will the police protect black lives as vigorously as they protect other Americans?

The racial climate these days reminds me of the Dred Scott decision that I learned about in high school history. Remember that infamous case from 1857 in Missouri? It’s the one where the Supreme Court held that blacks have no rights that whites need to respect. I recall being taught that the flawed Supreme Court decision had been overturned by the 13th and 14th amendments. But recent official acts of disrespect for black lives and concerns is making me feel like Dred Scott is bouncing back in full force.

Quickly checking the facts of that case, I noticed the way that the Chief Justice rationalized the Court’s decision was even more outrageous than how I remembered it. Wikipedia has the Chief Justice stating his reasons for not allowing blacks to have citizenship rights as follows:

It would give to persons of the negro race …the right to enter every other State whenever they pleased, …to sojourn there as long as they pleased, to go where they pleased …the full liberty of speech in public and in private upon all subjects upon which its own citizens might speak; to hold public meetings upon political affairs, and to keep and carry arms wherever they went.

As if granting equal rights would be a bad thing.

So let me summarize the “take away” messages I fear the American public receives from recent events in the media: When a frightened African American mother calls the police for protection, regardless of how wealthy she is, no matter how exclusive her neighborhood of residence, she should not expect much. Because after all, blacks have no rights that whites are bound to respect. Black kids are not as valuable as non-black kids, and black families are worth less than others.

And then there’s the wink and nod to every perpetrator thinking of victimizing an African American: “We showed you with the Zimmerman verdict, and reinforced it with countless black lives lost at the at the hands of the police. Just last week, St. Louis cops showed you again how to claim self-defense to ‘justify’ the killing of a mentally disturbed youth. And now with the home invasion of the Allen family residence, the message is the same: You needn’t fear any serious legal consequences. Because most people understand that black lives don’t matter.”

BvCz2omCEAAT4G2

Remarkable restraint among inspirational black youth

If you ask me, the residents of Ferguson have shown remarkable restraint in their rebellion against an oppressive system that is totally stacked against them. Especially the youths, who remain determined to stay in the struggle every night, despite being teargassed, maced, and manhandled on a regular basis.

ben4

Somebody needs to state the obvious. I am sick and tired of hearing smug television commentators trying to shape public opinion and calm the anxious nerves of the overseeing class by praising the various St. Louis area police squads and Missouri National Guard. Some commentators act as if the cops are somehow protecting the community they have been sent in to occupy. It is clear to me that they are there primarily to protect the property of local store owners from looters. They act as if the protesters as enemy combatants, not citizens they are charged with serving and protecting.

As viewers, we have witnessed numerous cops aiming weapons directly at the crowds, which we are told by onscreen police reps (from outside Missouri) is not professional policing behavior. We have witnessed another nearby killing of a second young black man by two police officers. We have seen rubber bullets being fired into crowds containing parents and children, elders and religious leaders.

Numerous reporters embedded in the crowds, not the anchors safe in far-off studios, have pointed out since day 1 that the police seem to be intentionally inciting violence. Yet talking-heads continue to praise law enforcement, while news “hosts” like Don Lemon get chummy with the local police authorities. Meanwhile, in the backgrounds, those of us with open hearts and minds cannot help but feel moved by the anguished chants of youthful protesters who are determined that the death of their peer, Mike Brown, will be avenged and not forgotten.

The question allies should be asking ourselves is this: Why would the police do this? Maybe to try to piss them off and cause defensive panic reactions so that then cops can justify mass arrests and detentions. Then officials can explain away the imposition of curfews and the suspension of constitutional rights to free assembly and to a free press.

mike1upHands up don’t shoot!

The police leaders have implemented a fairly effective divide and conquer strategy. We have been told that there are good protesters and bad apples and evil outside agitators. And in the process, the police “spin” has slyly appealed to the hearts and minds of the viewers watching all of this unrest. Uncritical viewers may be tempted to lose sight of the fact that the police are the problem. They are the reason for the protest. The cops are not the heroes in this drama; the nonviolent, determined youth are.

Because by and large the protesters have remained peaceful (and effective), many viewers and reporters on the ground (who have been teargassed right alongside the crowds, let’s not forget) have voiced astonishment at the overwhelming show of police force. Yet in spite of the sheer intimidation being visited on this suburb by the militarized police presence, few black youth protesters engage in direct confrontations with police. Talk about restraint.

We must remind our more privileged friends and colleagues that the black community sees law enforcement as lying at the heart of the problem. The people are protesting not only the death of one or two youths at the hands of an officer. They are voicing their outrage at years of belittling, insensitive, rude, and hostile treatment and constant harassment from multiple members of the overwhelmingly white police force.

To stand tall and cry out for justice under the muzzles of one’s oppressors and in the shadow of armored vehicles takes immense courage. It would be a tragic mistake to discount the humanity and dignity of these protesters, particularly the young people. Allies of these courageous fellow Americans need to do more to NOT let the media detract from their message. We must support their demands for justice, and keep paying attention. Don’t let news fatigue set in. It would be a travesty to let the rebellion die on the vine before it can fully ripen.

images