It has been a long time, since I last posted. It’s been a long time, since, I have opened up, to talk about adoption, at all. Today was a, typical, day, for me. I woke up, fixed my breakfast, and was sitting there, finishing my coffee, checking emails, etc., and listening to the news.
They were doing a story about teen, prescription drug abuse, and addiction. I didn’t think much about it. It’s a story reported on, quite, often. Then, I heard it. The word, “adopted”. It caught my attention. I listened. They were talking to, one of the teen’s parents. The reporter noted that the teen was adopted, and that his biological parents had a history of drug addiction.
I know the answer to my question. After all these years, of being and adoptee, after, everything I have poured out of my heart, after fighting for so long, so many years, to change those stereotypes, why is the need to point that out, still, so important? It had, absolutely, no relevance to the story. Why those two facts about that one teen? Why didn’t they point out family issues of the other teens? All families have their issues.
Why did they feel the need to point out that teen was adopted at all, much less, his biological parent’s issues? After all these years, why is this, still, happening?
I know the answers to my questions. I know those answers to the core of my being. It’s all part of being and adoptee, those answers.
I know, now, that I have written, and posted this, that I will, once again, be labeled. Fingers will point, “Oh, just another, angry, adoptee.” Well, yes, I’m angry. It makes me angry when adoption is used to make adoptees stand out as, somehow, different, not the same as biological children. It makes me angry when fingers point at our biological parents, place blame, subtle though it may be. It makes me angry, because I know, after all these years, little has changed, in the way adoption is viewed by society.
It makes me so sad, after all these years. It may, always, be. I just could not sit back and ignore it, one more time. It was time to, once again, speak up. Sometimes, you just have to kick that dead horse, one more time.