Review of Philomena by Marijane Nguyen – another adoptee who was too late to have her own questions answered.
When I was growing up in Louisiana, one of the questions I was most often asked by others upon learning that I was adopted was, so who are your “real” parents? It was fairly obvious that I was adopted, as I looked nothing like my white parents. I had straight black hair, almond shaped eyes and skin the color of my dad’s morning cup of coffee. Nevertheless, I was always incredulous at such a question each and every time it was asked. My typical response was, “well my parents are my real parents.” Like, duh…My adoptive parents were the only parents I knew. The only parents I would ever know. I have no doubt that many adoptees have encountered such a scenario and perhaps felt the same sentiments. What strikes me now as most peculiar, 47 years after my adoption, is the lack of curiosity I had about my birthparents. It…
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