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OK, so it’s not like he’s avoiding anyone, or anything. But I did get a chance to speak (well, exchange e-mails) with Bert Ballard. He edited PIECES OF ME; WHO DO I WANT TO BE, a new book aimed at adopted teens.
I tried to go beyond the standard “oh I see you have a book out, what makes it so great?” thing with this. Bert is an international adoptee, writer, perspective adoptive parent, one of the subjects of a documentary on Operation Babylift, and a contributor to Adopted The Comic, among other things, so we had a lot to talk about.
Check it out here….
I just saw the strangest thing. My adoptive great grandfather’s death certificate.
What’s so strange about that? He doesn’t share a name with either of his parents. There is a totally different name at the top of that document. That’s because he was raised by another family and took their name.
His real parents names are on his death certificate.
I haven’t been able to locate it yet, but I know his real parents names are on his birth certificate.
He was born in 1862. The story that has come down through the family says that his mother died when he was a toddler and his father could not care for him. He was taken in and raised by another family. He took their name and so have all of his descendants.
Years ago a member of the family compiled a book about my adoptive family. The usual thing with newspaper clippings, charts, amusing stories from the past, etc. It pulled together all the resources that were so hard to find in the pre-internet age. She traveled to West Virginia and England to find these things. All of it was bound up in an impressive looking hardback book that every member of the family bought.
My aunt delivered these books on a holiday, I can’t remember which, but the whole family was gathered. As we all sat there in my grandparents house looking through the book, commenting on how we were descended from English royalty, my grandfather said something. Something very telling, “None of it matters, we’re not part of that family, my father was adopted, we’re all Allens. “
That put a damper on things. Grandpa was never worried about offending, and he was right. That whole book was bullshit. We were Allens. Well, they were Allens, I didn’t have a clue what I was.
I don’t know any more than that about how my grandfather felt about adoption. It seems that he was well aware of it. I’m not sure if he made that comment to knock my uppity aunt down a notch, or he really felt like an Allen. I don’t know how he felt about me either. I’m not even sure if he ever as much as noticed me.
The fact that Grnadpa knew he was really an Allen means something though. It wasn’t a big secret. It was on the documents. I assume his father talked about it. There didn’t seem to be any shame involved.
My great grandfather was born in 1862. There was no lying, no secrets, no changing of records. His adoption was just a fact. My grandfather was born in 1901, he wasn’t embarrassed about his heritage. So why was it when I was born in 1965, it was a big secret?
I really don’t understand why everyone has to insist that my adoptive family is my real family. Nobody ever did that to my great grandfather. He was never asked to deny who he really was.
My great-grandfather had a choice. He could have been an Allen if he wanted to. No court made that decision for him. No judge denied his right to know where he came from.
Maybe that’s why he decided to take their name. They gave him a family without taking his identity. They didn’t have to change him. They didn’t have to claim him. My great-grandfather was allowed to decide who he was.
Even when my grandfather decided to take a different name, he didn’t forget the other one. Seems like a good compromise to me. I wish I had been allowed that.
My great-grandfather died as he lived, with the name he decided to take, and the names of his real parents. I will also die as I live. My real parents names will not be on my death certificate.
No one will look up my name over 100 years from now and know that I was adopted. I will live a lie even after my death.
Please tell me how that makes any kind of sense.
Link’s right here…..Mr. Linky thingie , or you can go here, where it will tell you what I was supposed to be doing like last week….Grown In My Heart.
I guess I had better start with folks not getting too upset with me when I am late.
Yep we’ll go with that.
I’m also thankful for, in no particular order…..
My husband’s patience.
My friends support.
Places that I can say whatever I want.
Good fitting boots.
That cats sleep sometimes.
National Adoption Month is almost over.
I didn’t have to work on what may the last 60 degree day this year.
Availability of Mexican Coca-Cola.
Old friends with new tricks.
My attitude problem.
And lots and lots of other things.
I just finished up an interview with Bert Ballard, editor of Pieces Of Me; Who Do I Want To Be?, the mucho fabulous book that I have an essay in. Buy early, and often, it’s just perfect for everyone on your holiday list. Seriously, it is a good book, not all happy-dappy, like you’d expect. Go get one. It should be showing up on Grown In My Heart any time now. I’ll let you know when it’s up, and share my thoughts here a bit later, maybe.
I’ve got a post going up there about National Snake Oil Adoption Month too. Look for it on the 26th.
Oh yeah and they have a Carnival thingie on the 28th, me and all the gals will be sharing what we are grateful for. this promises to be diverse, I’m sure. Please feel free to participate too. We need to represent as adult adoptees.
Other than that, making cassoulet for Thanksgiving, because it’s so traditional.
I’m worn out. I’ll get something more substantial up soon.
Here’s a funny LOL cat….
My a-mom always plans her Thanksgiving dinner around Sharon. Her name is always spoken with quiet reverence, and her wishes are always catered to. She decides what time dinner will be, and the menu will consist of. If she has a last-minute change of plans, everything changes with her. She is the determining factor in every decision about our Thanksgiving holiday.
Who is this Sharon? The matriarch of our family? An aging relative whose presence is anticipated by all? A celebrity who must fly in from great distances to join us?
Nope. She has never attended a single Thanksgiving dinner at my a-mom’s house. In fact, I’m not sure if she has ever been inside my a-mom’s house. She’s my sister’s mother-in-law.
I don’t usually care that everything is arranged around Sharon’s plans, but this year it kind of got to me. As I mentioned above, Sharon is very much revered by my a-mom. She puts extra special emphasis on her name, as in, “I spoke to SHARON about Thanksgiving…..”.
Like Sharon had Oprah on hold on the other line and took time out of her fabulous day just to speak to her. This year, I had a problem. I told a-mom that I wasn’t sure if we were going to be able to make Thanksgiving or not. My husbands father is ill, and I’m just not making any plans right now. My husband’s parents are older than mine, and they are getting to the point that they need some care. I’ve told my a-mom that they have had some issues in the past.
A-mom then asked me if Juanita still drove. My mother-in-laws name is not Juanita, not even close. I’ve been married for 26 years, and I don’t think my mother has ever got her name right once. For years she called her Margaret, that’s a bit closer, but not quite it. I corrected her for about the first 10 years of my marriage, then I just kind of gave up. It wasn’t like she was calling up my mother-in-law to make her own thanksgiving plans.
Somehow my mother-in-law just never had the sway over a-mom that Sharon did.
I’m not going to Thanksgiving at her house this year. Though my husband understands about my a-mom, I’m not going to put him through that. I can just hear it now, after I’ve told a-mom that my husband’s father is ill, that my mother-in-law hasn’t driven for years, that they are coming to a place where they may not be able to be independent anymore, “How are Jim and Juanita, are they still in Texas?”
Wrong names. Wrong state.
I don’t want him to have to answer that.
No longer available…
http://www.adoptionassurance.com/home.aspx
Makes one wonder why. Well, not really. Though I do wonder who’s bright idea this was in the first place.
I don’t think you can insure against the actions of a specific person. Unless they are an employee. But then I suppose you’d have to form a corporation in order to adopt.
Oh hell, that’s next. Forming corporations in order to adopt. Sounds all warm and fuzzy and rainbow farty, doesn’t it. Adopted by a corporation.
I’m still searching to see if extended child warranties are still available.
I made the mistake of discussing adoption with one of the uninitiated recently. I always do that, you’d think that I would have learned by now. Anyway, after I related some of my experiences she remarked that it sounds something more like a true crime story than the fuzzy wuzzy experience of adoption.
No shit, Sherlock.
She seemed to think that instead of bringing up all of the things that are wrong with adoption, and how adoptees are perceived we should be looking for answers and comfort.
Again, no shit.
Answers and comfort would be wonderful. Folks having a complete understanding of the whole adoption thing would be great, no argument here. But I guess that it is all too shocking for the non-adopted to wrap their head around.
Guess what? It’s pretty hard for us to wrap our heads around too.
Exactly how are we to be comforted when we talk about lack of medical history? Patting us on the hand and assuring us we probably won’t die of some cancer that could have been easily found and treated if we had known to test for it, doesn’t really cut it.
Just exactly what are we supposed to be told when somebody assumes that we were so much better off because our adoptive folks could afford a pool in the backyard? Can you imagine anyone casually debating what a non-adopted person’s childhood might have been like if they had been raised in lesser circumstances?
How do you make it OK to be abandoned?
Should the fact that we turned out to be attractive people make up for not growing up with anyone that looked like us?
Is there a greeting card for those that are denied basic human rights by the states we pay taxes too?
Yes, it’s shocking, a little unsettling, and smacks of true crime. To hear adoptees speak can sound like way too much information, but that’s what we’ve got.
I do find it very interesting that this woman chose the phrase “true crime”. As if we the adoptees, the innocent little babies, are the criminals. Are we vandals for tipping the sacred cow of adoption?
Should we charged with a misdemeanor or a felony? Does one generally serve time for tipping sacred cows? Would sacred cow tipping be considered a property crime? If more than one person is involved, does it become a conspiracy?
Some folks are getting it, The Donaldson Institute has a very interesting report out. It’s focused on international adoptees, but makes very good points for all of us.
Overheard, “Lakes are like boobs, if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.” This prompted by a print of wolves by lake. A print that will be given away. A print that my husband is in danger of winning, even though he didn’t agree with the commenter’s observation about boobs.
Just another reason to live in fear. What would I do with a print of five wolves (my husband counted them) by a lake? I can’t put it in a garage sale, somebody that knows we won it would see it. I can’t re-gift it. My family has decided to not give gifts for Christmas this year, and I wouldn’t give that thing to anybody I actually liked. I can only hope that I don’t win this thing.
I just can’t figure out if I should wish for luck, in the sense I’ll be lucky not to win this thing, or start buying lottery tickets because I feel a lucky streak coming on.
I know that fear of bad art is a small fear, but it’s an annoying one.
In other news, it’s still National Adoption Month. And I have an essay out in the new book PIECES OF ME; WHO DO I WANT TO BE?. Check it out.
Yep, it’s that time of year again. Right after Halloween, and before the holidays get cranked up. How I love it.
BTW, about Halloween, a good half of my trick-or-treaters were taller than me, and I’m not a short woman. What is up with that?
So kids, what should we do for Adoption Month? Any ideas? I see Bethany Christian Services has already won the Demons of Adoption award, that’s a start. How about we all get together and TP them?
I’m taking any suggestions.
This is for the Grown In My Heart Blog Carnival. If you’d like to share just head right there and they’ll hook you up.
Me, I’d love to share. But I don’t have much. Being adopted and all. Here’s a pic of my mom as a child…
That’s her standing in the middle.
Here’s a photo of me at about the same age…
That’s all I got.
