Or third.
Maybe Steerage. I think that's us, cribmates. Steerage. Our quarters in the bowels of the ship, drinking stale water and eating the leftovers of the first class passengers. Guess who's walking on the decks, tasting the fresh air, and eating the hot meals that congeal on our plates?
Let's face it, adoptees are non-persons. Persons have families, legally and morally obligated families. Persons have iron clad identities, protected by law, and the rights to their own identifying documents. Persons have support systems that cannot be withdrawn without consequences. Society accepts and enforces this.
There is no legal or ethical requirement for adopters to provide the kind of lifelong care expected of biological (kept) families. Adopters are allowed (encouraged, in some circles) to rehome, incarcerate, or straight-out abandon "their" adoptees at any time for a wide variety of amoral, albeit socially acceptable, reasons. (RAD, undisclosed health issues, cultural barriers, behavior, "bad fit", etc.) Society accepts and enforces this as well.
And what happens to an adoptee who has been abandoned by two or more families? That ship we've been sleeping in the bowels of, sinking, in flames, wreckage everywhere? To know as you watch the last flames extinguished by the waves that you have no lifeboat, the debris you cling to will soon sink, and no one is sending the Coast Guard (or anyone else) out for you? Your choice is to swim, alone, for however long, or join the leftovers of your so-called "family" at the bottom of the sea. No one cares which you choose. Nowhere to go, no one to call, no one to care. Disenfranchised and illegtimized once again. And, you guessed it, society accepts and enforces this. They call over the side of their ships how sorry they are as they sail on by. But they won't toss you a life preserver to help you stay afloat. They can't spare the foam.
I mean, as soon as the relinquishment is official, we pretty much cease to be people anyway. We lose all legitimacy, agency, social identity, and somehow cease to be deserving of common decency when our families withdraw their support. We become non-persons; non-respected, non-identified, non-represented non-persons. The butt of the joke. The plot twist. The knife in the gut for the feels. Usable. Exploitable. Necessary for the drama and otherwise forgotten. The morning show, the feel good movie, the dramatic choice in your favorite series. The acceptable target. Fodder for the fools.
The black sheep of the family? Must be adopted. The troublemaker? Gotta be adopted. My brother went to jail, do we put him up for adoption? Want to hurt your sibling? Tell them they're adopted.
But according to the pamphlets and the agencies, adoption is a "better life". A "better life" with no real family support system, or rights that you can count on. A "better life" of mysteries, wondering, and searching. A "better life" of being mocked and ridiculed, and having your value as a human being constantly called into question.
And who backs us? Who stands with us? Who supports us in our searches and getting our legal documents? The answer for most of us is no one. Not out adopters, not our bios, not the agencies or the courts (who HAVE the information on tap and jealously guard it like the gold in Fort Knox). And half the time, by the time we obtain all the proper permissions to view it, we're told it's been destroyed.
Adoption is the happy ending, donchano? Nothing that happens to us beyond the moment of finalization matters. We are non-persons, and society PRETENDS to care about us from relinquishment to adoption. Post finalization, the insincere concern disappears altogether and is replaced with apathy. And whenever we talk about this societal ostracization, we are "bitter", "angry", or "just had a bad experience". Society accepts and enforces this as well.
Maybe Steerage. I think that's us, cribmates. Steerage. Our quarters in the bowels of the ship, drinking stale water and eating the leftovers of the first class passengers. Guess who's walking on the decks, tasting the fresh air, and eating the hot meals that congeal on our plates?
Let's face it, adoptees are non-persons. Persons have families, legally and morally obligated families. Persons have iron clad identities, protected by law, and the rights to their own identifying documents. Persons have support systems that cannot be withdrawn without consequences. Society accepts and enforces this.
There is no legal or ethical requirement for adopters to provide the kind of lifelong care expected of biological (kept) families. Adopters are allowed (encouraged, in some circles) to rehome, incarcerate, or straight-out abandon "their" adoptees at any time for a wide variety of amoral, albeit socially acceptable, reasons. (RAD, undisclosed health issues, cultural barriers, behavior, "bad fit", etc.) Society accepts and enforces this as well.
And what happens to an adoptee who has been abandoned by two or more families? That ship we've been sleeping in the bowels of, sinking, in flames, wreckage everywhere? To know as you watch the last flames extinguished by the waves that you have no lifeboat, the debris you cling to will soon sink, and no one is sending the Coast Guard (or anyone else) out for you? Your choice is to swim, alone, for however long, or join the leftovers of your so-called "family" at the bottom of the sea. No one cares which you choose. Nowhere to go, no one to call, no one to care. Disenfranchised and illegtimized once again. And, you guessed it, society accepts and enforces this. They call over the side of their ships how sorry they are as they sail on by. But they won't toss you a life preserver to help you stay afloat. They can't spare the foam.
I mean, as soon as the relinquishment is official, we pretty much cease to be people anyway. We lose all legitimacy, agency, social identity, and somehow cease to be deserving of common decency when our families withdraw their support. We become non-persons; non-respected, non-identified, non-represented non-persons. The butt of the joke. The plot twist. The knife in the gut for the feels. Usable. Exploitable. Necessary for the drama and otherwise forgotten. The morning show, the feel good movie, the dramatic choice in your favorite series. The acceptable target. Fodder for the fools.
The black sheep of the family? Must be adopted. The troublemaker? Gotta be adopted. My brother went to jail, do we put him up for adoption? Want to hurt your sibling? Tell them they're adopted.
But according to the pamphlets and the agencies, adoption is a "better life". A "better life" with no real family support system, or rights that you can count on. A "better life" of mysteries, wondering, and searching. A "better life" of being mocked and ridiculed, and having your value as a human being constantly called into question.
And who backs us? Who stands with us? Who supports us in our searches and getting our legal documents? The answer for most of us is no one. Not out adopters, not our bios, not the agencies or the courts (who HAVE the information on tap and jealously guard it like the gold in Fort Knox). And half the time, by the time we obtain all the proper permissions to view it, we're told it's been destroyed.
Adoption is the happy ending, donchano? Nothing that happens to us beyond the moment of finalization matters. We are non-persons, and society PRETENDS to care about us from relinquishment to adoption. Post finalization, the insincere concern disappears altogether and is replaced with apathy. And whenever we talk about this societal ostracization, we are "bitter", "angry", or "just had a bad experience". Society accepts and enforces this as well.
Barn Wheway:
ReplyDeleteexcellent!
We're consigned to solitary confinement without being told and when we find out where we are it makes no difference. We are now aware but still locked up with the key thrown away. Still i suppose i'd rather know.