White Privilege and Adoptive Parent Privliege*

*Term hijacked from Jena (see below) 

Before I start with the serious and meaningful stuff, I just wanted to say that we had an AWESOME weekend here! Okay, so I was FREEZING on Saturday. Seriously freezing. So badly that my hands turned purple from the base of my fingers all the way to the tips. I even took a picture to show you. I was a little worried, asking Ed over and over if I was going to get frostbite. Does that tell you how little time I spend in the cold? Of course, that happened because I took my gloves off to shovel a bunch of food into my mouth, but still. Anyway, I’ll write about our weekend tomorrow. Mattix and I have a cold, but that isnt’ slowing us down much.  I love it here and we’re having a really wonderful time. But the cold, oh the cold…

Also, and this is serious and meaningful, I’m keeping the babies who are in the orphanages being struck with the Rhino virus in my prayers, as well as all of the PAPs who have children there. I cannot even imagine your concern right now. To those who have lost their babies, I don’t have words to express my sorrow for you. I’m deeply sorry. This is horrible for all of the children in orphanages in the affected areas and I pray that the babies are cared for as well as possible and that this illness stops spreading.

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I’ve been working on this post for a month. Some other posts I’ve read recently have motivated me to go back and refine and finish it. This probably isn’t earth shattering or moving to anyone, but sometimes it helps me to get it all out.

Like I’m sure many of you do, I have read Paula’s blog for a long while. Her writing is unbelievably eloquent and so incredibly educational. I will admit that it was one of the first adult adoptee blogs that I felt comfortable reading regularly. When I first began reading some AA blogs, I was scared crapless. After some time, I realized that I needed to read AA blogs that didn’t convince me that I was going to ruin my child just by the very act of adopting him. I’m not incapable of considering the points of view of AAs who aren’t as “moderate” as Paula, but I also believe that as APs, we need to find a balance between being scared to death/paralyzed by far and being completely ignorant to the issues.

Anyway, when I first began reading Paula’s blog, much of what she wrote made me think of something completely new that I had not previously considered. More recently, her writing makes me think further and deeper about topics that are very important to me, and hopefully all APs. Every last one of her posts causes me to spend some time reflecting on international adoption, parenting in general, parenting a transracially adopted child, and race in our society. Now that our son is home with us, these topics are especially poignant to me.

Recently, a few of her posts related to thoughts that have been swirling in my head for over a year and ones I’ve been putting down in this post in fragmented pieces for the past month.  Additionally, Jena wrote a wonderful post that I referenced the other day. Therefore, I’ve decided to go back and work on it and include links to the relevant posts.

White privilege. This phrase was meaningless to me two years ago. Not because I didn’t care, but because I had never heard it. We started our adoption process in January 2006 and until that time, I had never heard the words “white” and “privilege” strung together to mean something very significant. Am I proud of this? No, not at all. I’m just copping to it now because I don’t believe I’m the only AP (at the time PAP) who was in this position. I grew up in a predominantly white neighborhood, went to a predominantly white high school, and considered myself very open minded and free of prejudices. I felt as though I was  ”colorblind,” which I now understand is the very essence of my complete and total lack of awareness.  I certainly had and have friends of other races, but unfortunately, I was never put in a position to consider white privilege.

In my not-so-humble opinion, this is very important to those of us parenting internationally, and therefore transracially, adopted children. I’m not saying I walk around all day thinking about the many ways in which my son is different than I am. That’s not the case at all. I’m just saying that it’s very important to realize and therefore validate for him that he indeed IS different than my husband and I as far as race goes.

Anyway, white privilege. I think this is a very good place to read about it. I’ve been poking around this website for a bit, but haven’t read enough to form an opinion on it. I just think this page is a good place to read one person’s definition of white privilege if you haven’t heard much about it. Paula also recently wrote about it here. I’ll share my introduction to the term now. Again, I’m slightly embarassed about my previous lack of knowledge of this term, but I’m not too proud to admit it.

After we began the adoption process, one of the first Yahoo groups I joined was a local adoptive parents groups. It was for all APs in our area, domestic and international. A somewhat frequent contributor to the issues that arise on this group is an very seasoned expert in the area of adoption. She’s a parent, both through birth and IA, and a social worker of twenty some years. She would often jump into discussions wherein one person would insist that there was no difference between herself and her IA’ed child, or between her bio kids and her IA’ed kids. Often, these parents would swear up and down that because they saw each of their children as “the same,” as no color at all, that there was indeed no difference. That if she didn’t treat her child differently, and told her child that she was just like everyone else, even though she was a different race, then that’s all that mattered.

In the instances, this adoption expert would jump in and, far more eloquently than I am about to, state that the reason the parent believed this is because she has the luxury of white privilege. For a month or so, I would read these exchanges, which often included some very well written, educated, thoughtful posts on the part of the parent who insisted that there was no difference, and think that this adoption expert had some issues that she herself needed some therapy to address, that by making an issue of something that wasn’t an issue, she was creating problems that otherwise didn’t exist.

However, because I can’t let anything go, I kept on reading. And one day it clicked. I certainly had never understood it because I was indeed on the receiving end of White Privilege and so therefore, why would I get it? I’ve never had to sit and think about being treated differently based on the color of my skin. Not once in my entire life have I had to do this. For Ed, the opportunity to understand it came shortly after I “got” it. (BTW, Ed is not entirely Caucasian, but for the most part, appears to be and so therefore has been on the receiving end of White Privilege himself). He was in the airport in a predominantly black area. He was first in line at the check-in counter and waiting for an employee to help him. A counter opened up, and the employee, who was African American, motioned in his direction and said, “Next.”  Ed started towards the counter, but was quickly corrected when the employee said, “Not you. Him,” motioning to the African American gentleman behind Ed. He stood there for a second, looked around, and realized, as far as he could tell, that the man behind him was called ahead based on his race and his race alone and that Ed, being one of the only white people in line, was skipped over for that reason.

Of course, Ed couldn’t be sure that’s what happened, but can everyone always be sure when they’re treated differently because of their race? Probably not. But it’s most likely pretty obvious to the person to whom it happens. Ed didn’t have anything to sit around and complain about because let’s face it, this was an isolated incident for him. It did, however, offer him the chance to feel just a tiny little fraction for a tiny little moment of what it feels like to be treated differently because he was different. That was his “I get it” moment, not because he was suddenly understanding of being skipped over or treated poorly because of his race, but because he suddenly realized how he is NOT treated differently because of his appearance.

(On a somewhat related note, I know the argument can go another way for a white person who grows  in a neighborhood where he is the minority. In fact, Ed did spend quite a few years of his childhood as the minority in his neighborhood. That’s getting a little complicated, though, and for the most part, I think as APs, getting into that is missing the issue of which we need to be mindful when raising our IA’ed children.)

So this has been pretty important to me lately, now that our son is home, and everyone is loving on him and telling us what a great family we’re building. We are. I love our family. I love my son. I love him more than anything in this world. However, he IS different than I am. I can acknowledge that, embrace that, and integrate that into our lives without dwelling on it in a negative way. Because Mattix is not going to grow up thinking he’s just like us. The rest of the world won’t allow him to do that. And because many of the people around us love us, they sometimes seem to need to make us feel like we’re no different. When I talk about wishing I lived in an area that had a greater Asian population and a friend says, “Well, he knows you love him and you love his country” and “You don’t live in a racist neighborhood or anything, so there’s not a lot to worry about” I have to explain that there IS a reason to care about it. And inevitably, when that person will say, “But people are people and you believe that and he’ll know it” I have to explain that “people are people,” race aside, to us because we’re on the receiving end of white privilege. So when the conversation gets a little deeper and the person explains that I’m creating differences by focusing on them, my answer is always, “You would think that because you’re white.”

And I’m not being snarky or rude. It’s just a fact. And if you say it enough, I think it starts to make sense. I have not had to think about sooo many things because, well, I’m white. But now, because I have been blessed to parent an amazing child who is of a different race than I, it is imperative that I recognize it and think about it and understand it.

And that leads me to what Jena so smartly calls Adoptive Parent Privilege. I think that aptly describes what I must have had when Ed and I began the adoption process. For pretty personal reasons that I *think* I will be ready to share soon, Ed and I went straight to adoption when we were ready for a family. At this point, I will say that I’m not sure whether we’re able to have biological children because we have not tried. Perhaps it’s that fact that created this adoptive parent privilege I seem to have had.

I have always viewed adoption as just another way to have a family. Not even that big of a deal. Just another way. I can honestly say that during our entire process, I felt just like my friends who had (or were having) bio kids. I know this is not at all the case for all APs. I’m just offering my story. We are all our own person and are all different, so please keep in mind this is just me. Again, my feelings may be due to Ed and my reasons for adopting, which like I said, I might share sometime soon. Anyway,  I truly can say that I just thought this was just another way to have a family.

When people would tell me we were doing something wonderful by “saving a child,” I would tell them, like we all do, that that is absolutely not the case. I will tell you that I was embarrassingly, stupidly, shamefully naive about adoption when we began (as if that’s not obvious yet), but the ONE thing I absolutely knew is that we were certainly not saving a child. I believed then, and still do now, that often, the decision to become a parent is born of a selfish desire. Ed and I wanted a family, plain and simple. I have never thought that parents choose to have children for noble, selfless reasons. I mean, come on, there are a lot of “I’s” and “wants” in “I want to have a family” and “I want kids.”  I knew then and fully understand now that the ACT of parenting is often pretty selfless, but the decision to become parents is kinda selfish. There’s nothing selfish about not getting to shower or brush my teeth for a day or two because Mattix needs me to hold him all day sometimes, but my decision to bring Mattix into my life was selfish, as in, “I want a family. I’m ready to be a mom.” (Please also know that I do believe there are some APs who adopt for truly humanitarian, selfless reasons, but let’s be honest, the majority of us do not fall into that category.)

So because of that, I never once thought I was doing something great by adopting some helpless child. But I did think I was doing something very regular, not inordinary, no-need-to-treat-it-differently. Just like having a biological kid…we were adopting. At some point during our process, maybe shortly before or after our referral, I realized that feeling was probably valid for ME and ME alone. NOT our adopted child. NOT Mattix. This is not some regular, every day way of having a family for Mattix. The regular, every day way for him would be to live with his first mom and first family, right? Selfishly, becoming his parent has been the greatest gift I have yet to receive in my life, but I now understand that while it was totally normal and everyday for me, it is not so simple for him.

Jena very eloquently described how adopting is just as valid  a way of becoming a family, but it’s different, and our society feels more comfortable making things the same. If I had a dollar for every person who told me that because we waited nine months, almost to the day, between Mattix’s referral and our adoption day, it was just like me being pregnant, I could fund a second adoption. Well, okay, I couldn’t because I don’t know 25,000 people, but you know what I mean. And I don’t criticize or blame anyone because that makes sense technically, but it was nothing like being pregnant. It never felt that way because I personally don’t have any experience with being pregnant and don’t know how to relate anything to it because of that. And beyond that, it’s nothing like it because another woman WAS pregnant with Mattix for nine months, not me. I just waited for nine months to meet him, thereby making him ten months old when he first became my son, not a brand new baby that was born to me after nine months of waiting.

One other thing I’d like to note because Jena made me think about it, too. Since Mattix’s referral, we have been repeatedly told that Mattix looks like Ed. For the longest time, I figured it was just because people sometimes feel like they need to say something like that, God knows why. Ed even said that Mattix’s photos looked very similar to his own baby pictures. To note, Ed is at least a third Puerto Rican, in addition to a few other things of which he’s unsure, so he’s significantly darker than I am (the palest shade of white). (Oh, and speaking of racism and assumptions, someone please remind me to tell the story about when Ed was doing yard work at OUR house and someone in the neighborhood asked him if he spoke English, then asked if he was being given water and being treated right. This is because of he area of the country where we live. Yeah.) But then we went to Vietnam, and when Ed would take Mattix out alone, people honestly didn’t seem to think much of it. When we would all go out, if Ed were ahead of me with Mattix (because I was often lagging behind, shopping, go figure), Vietnamese people would ask, “Your son?” and Ed would respond in the affirmative and that was all there was to it However, if I would catch up to them, many of those same people would say, “Your wife?” pointing to me, and would then say, “Ooohhh, Vietnam baby?” pointing to Mattix. 

Now that we’re home with him, it’s very obvious Mattix’s is probably not my biological child when it is  just he and I, and it’s definitely clear when it’s the three of us, but if it’s just Ed and Mattix, it’s not necessarily so clear. Jena made me stop and think about what that means because honestly, it never really rubbed me the wrong way or made me think too much. I thought everyone was crazy until we met Mattix and then I could sort of see it myself, but I have to admit that I haven’t given a ton of thought to how that might make Mattix feel. I do believe that Mattix’s looks are very much changing as he gets older (my baby’s growing up so fast – he’s already starting to look like a toddler) and he’s looking less and less like Ed. So maybe this will be a non-issue in the future. I don’t know, but it obviously deserves a little thought, huh?

And finally, like Jena, I did hear that Mattix looks “sorta white” here and there. THAT did irritate me because Mattix is not “sorta white”  and why the hell does he need to look “sorta” anything? (These comments came/come mostly from people we didn’t/don’t know well.) He is who he is and he is not biological and he is not white. Jena does a much better job than I do of talking about this because quite frankly I get a bit fired up and then my mouth gets the better of me, so I’m going to fully hijack her thoughts on this:

 When we first brought Khai home, I had several people tell me that, “he doesn’t even really look Asian, you know?” …I know that they were just speaking out of ignorance, but this is the kind of thinking that I believe will harm Khai in the long run.  Khai is Vietnamese.  He is a Vietnamese adoptee.  He is Vietnamese American.  He is our son.  None of these things are mutually exclusive and they can’t be.  Even though, Khai’s experiences as Vietnamese and Vietnamese American will be vastly different than that of those who are raised in their families of origin, it does not make him less of those things.  And even though Khai was not born of my body, it does not make him less of my son, but it does make the process very, very different.   Trying to make him only my son is to rob him of part of who he is, and it does nothing to prepare him for what he will face as an Asian American boy/man.

And so that is some of what I have to say on that. Of course I’ve said plenty and we all know I could say more, but at some point I have to stop, right? So I’ll stop now. Just a bunch of rambling thoughts that have been floating around in my head for a long, long time, and only intensified after Mattix joined us.

If you’re still reading, you deserve some sort of attention prize! Sorry I have nothing to offer. I will post lots of photos of Mattix tomorrow, including a few of him on his first carousel ride, which was priceless! I hope you all had a great weekend!