Before I introduce my family to anyone, I always preface with a simple statement: “I don’t look like my family. They are white, and I was adopted.” This isn’t intended to provoke shock or sympathy; it’s just a straightforward truth. My first memory of making such a declaration dates back to middle school, when I tried to convince a friend that a Caucasian substitute cafeteria monitor was my grandmother. “I promise! She’s my grandma. I don’t resemble my family. My family is white, and I was adopted. Grandma, come meet my friend!”
As I matured, I began to notice the varied reactions of others. You could almost see the gears turning in their minds: “This doesn’t add up. They don’t look alike. Oh, she’s adopted.”
Indeed, I was adopted, one among many babies adopted from South Korea during the 1980s and ’90s. At just four months old, I was the oldest baby on the flight to meet my new parents. When I finally disembarked, the photos show a bewildered infant. The rest of my story unfolded from that moment.
Growing up in a loving, working-class family in a suburban area of Upstate New York, I was raised alongside my white parents and sister. Now, I have my own family, with two small biological children. Witnessing the manifestation of genetics that I had never experienced before has been a fascinating journey, but that’s a tale for another time.
As an adoptee, I’d like to share some insights on how to engage thoughtfully with someone who has been adopted without unintentionally causing discomfort.
“Where are you from?”
This question can be puzzling. It’s often unclear whether someone is asking about my current location, where I grew up, or where I was born. I usually end up clarifying or providing a more comprehensive answer. If you’re curious, feel free to ask, but it might be more effective to be specific in your inquiry.
“So where’s your real mom?” or “That’s not your real family?”
Families come in all shapes and forms—biological, step, blended, and more. In my family, we called my parents “Mom” and “Dad.” Another individual might choose to use different names. However, please refrain from using the term “real” in connection with family. My parents may not be my biological relatives, but they are undoubtedly my real family.
“Why were you given up?”
Not every adoptee has a clear narrative about their origins. In my case, I was left in a hospital in Korea with my biological mother’s hope that I would find a loving family. Regardless of the details or lack thereof, this is a sensitive topic, and it’s best left for the adoptee to bring up if they choose to.
“Do you want to find ___?”
This is a valid question that most adoptees have contemplated at some point. While it seems straightforward, the answer is often more complex than a simple yes or no. Yes, many of us think about reuniting with biological relatives, but there’s no need to press the issue if the adoptee isn’t ready to discuss it.
“Have you tried those genetic test kits?”
While I’m not a geneticist, I understand that mapping genes is a lengthy process. Nowadays, simply spitting in a vial yields results in a matter of weeks, which is astounding. However, I recommend that unless the adoptee is actively discussing reconnecting with biological relatives, it’s best not to suggest these kits as a means to do so. Adoptees are usually aware of the possibility of discovering biological relatives through genetic testing.
Recently, while watching “Elmo’s World” with my little ones, I was pleased to see various family types represented, emphasizing that family is defined by love and support, not just appearance. For further insights on pregnancy and home insemination, check out this excellent resource from WomensHealth.gov, which offers valuable information.
In summary, being thoughtful and sensitive in conversations about adoption can go a long way in making adoptees feel respected and understood. Remember, it’s about the love and connections that truly define a family.