Why Are We So Quiet?

Photo by Gift Habeshaw on Unsplash

I’ll cut to the chase: I’d like to see more presence of Ethiopian adoptees in inter-country adoptee circles - talking, speaking and writing books about adoption. I’m seeing that we’re quite consistently under-represented and it bugs me - it’s not like there’s not enough space - there is, people want to hear what we have to say.

I am aware that there’s an Ethiopian-French adoptee named Julie Foulon who recently released a book, Sara et Tega, which I’m looking forward to reading (it’s not available in Canada yet)! Watch a short clip of Julie talking about why she wrote her book. I’m very excited to see Julie and other French and French-speaking adoptees take center stage; may they inspire others to do the same.

Besides this, there’s critically-acclaimed British poet and playwright Lemn Sissay and Hannah Azieb Pool, an Eritrean-British adoptee and journalist, who’ve written books about their experiences.

We’re also anxiously awaiting the release of Lions Roaring Far From Home, an anthology by Ethiopian adoptees, ranging in age from under 10 to 50 years old and living in 7 different countries. The project is a labour of love, spearheaded by my generous friend and mom of Ethiopian adoptees, Maureen McCauley Evans. 

So, it’s not as if there’s no movement - there definitely is, I just want to see more! I know that writing about adoption is very uncomfortable. As much as it can be healing, it also feels like you’re digging up old bones.

Doing this type of work requires emotional and psychological support and I know that adoptees are still not getting the amount of they need. To this day in 2020, it’s hard to find an adoption-competent therapist who is also black or a person of colour, even when living in racially diverse city. Please take note that when I say adoption competent, I’m referring to someone who understands adoption from a critical perspective.

I know that the odds are stacked are against us, however I’m confident that the more we share our stories, the more people will learn about adoption and understand the issues, which will eventually open the doors to more research and hopefully policy changes. We need to be active participants in this process and stay optimistic because it won’t happen overnight.

International adoptees, particuarly trailblazing Korean adoptees have worked hard to be heard and gain access to adoption research, but there’s still work to be done, especially in terms of the experiences of black adoptees from Ethiopia and elsewhere. We also have to be realistic too—even when the research is there, policies and regulations around adoption only tend to change when tragedies occur or when there’s enough contestation.

Still, I like to think that we can work towards preventing tragedies by better supporting adoptees and adoptive families through education, training and psycho-social support by qualified professionals.

In terms of adoptees from Ethiopia, I’ve noticed there’s been more interest in travelling to Ethiopia, connecting with aspects of Ethiopian culture and reuniting with family as opposed to talking about adoption, which is great because it’s very healing and grounding at the same time.

Most of us are very concerned about Ethiopia right now. I know travel plans have been nixed, searches have been postponed and adoptees who have been waiting for years to meet their families must wait longer. Everyone is concerned about their families safety and well-being.

From the conversations I’ve had with adoptees and adoptive parents, most are trying to make sense of what’s going on and are unsure of how to talk about the crisis with their Ethiopian families or their adopted children. It’s a confusing and very uncertain time.

It might sound off-putting and absurd (or maybe both), but having this forced break might actually be a good time to start writing, even if it just means getting some thoughts down on paper.

I’ll be transparent here; I’m particularly interested in reunion stories, not because I want to re-create a feel-good fantasy in my head, but because there are very few reunion stories that are realistic and helpful in providing insights for adoptees who are contemplating searching.

I know this is a sore point for some because language, cultural and geographic barriers make it very challenging and almost impossible to connect with family in Ethiopia in the way that they’d like. But I think this is even more of a reason to write about it because too many of us have fantasies and expectations about reunion, leaving us oftentimes very disappointed by the outcome. Most importantly, it increases our sense of loss and brings up past traumas.

If you’re an Ethiopian adoptee reading this and this is your situation, please seek out support to process the grief and consider sharing your story when you’re ready.

Whether it’s through poetry, fiction, non-fiction or even a visual story, your voice matters. We can all benefit from hearing your perspective. I don’t necessarily agree with every adoptee, but I’m always open to learning something new.

There’s immense power in storytelling that shouldn’t be underestimated. I’ve heard so many powerful and riveting stories from Ethiopian adoptees; from when they still lived with their families in Ethiopia, in the orphanage or when they were adopted. There’s so much we can learn from these experiences, so let’s stop holding back.

Remember that if you don’t tell your story, people with less or no connection to adoption will tell it for you. It’s not necessarily malicious, but everyone is on the lookout for a good story - good stories are currency and nobody else should profit from your story except you. 

Thanks for reading! 

K.