2

Some Thoughts on Sharing, Over-Sharing and The Like

As I make my way back into the groove of blogging and working after the loss of my grandfather, I’m thinking a lot about a question I asked over on BlogHer just yesterday. Basically, the question was:

How much do you share regarding your adoption story? How much is too much?

After I asked that, D let me know that she has purchased a domain and is going to blog! I will not link you as of yet. I will wait for her to find her comfort level and out herself. That said, it was perfect timing for both this question and the one I plan on asking next!

I’ve learned a lot about what is mine to share and what is D’s to share… and what will be Munchkin’s to share. I have learned these boundaries by making mistakes. I like to learn the hard way. I have over-shared at times though D has really only called me out on it once. I fixed it and we got past it, like most of our blips and bloops on our adoption journey.

I think that’s what makes adoption blogging so difficult.

I can write just about anything about the family that lives under my roof. I’m participating in the making of these stories. As long as I am not putting my husband’s job in jeopardy, I am pretty much free to share what I please. I do censor myself in some ways, refusing to share anything about our sexual relationship not really because I’m a prude but because my husband’s grandparents read our blog. (There’s an ick factor there when it comes to sex, no?) Again, while I may share about fires, I don’t share details of the fire itself and more often share about what I experienced, at home, while he was off fighting. When I share about the kids, I don’t post pictures of naked tushies or anything overly embarrassing. As Dawn said in her comment to the question, I will always give the family veto power.

But it works differently in adoption.

It’s not always possible to share only my story. Our stories, as they pertain to adoption, get tangled together in different ways. We also view things differently, react to them differently and experience them on different levels and in different ways. I think I mostly make that clear in my writing but I suppose that can get lost in translation.

I rarely write about the Munchkin herself here, sans-really cute stories of our conversations or the occasional discussion of something she is experiencing. Why? I don’t want to step on D’s toes. The truth is that when it comes down to it, she’s the mommy and should therefore be the mommyblogger. You know? I tend to back off in that area, moreso than I used to do. As Shannon pointed out, I’m more apt to talk about theory and ethics and what not rather than the ins and outs of our story. Or my own healing process which still has to be edited at times. It’s difficult, this adoption blogging.

If I’ve learned anything, it’s that the lines in the sand of this topic shift from time to time. During difficult times, I find it safer, for all, if I hold back a little. During times of ease, I find that it’s a bit more acceptable to go back and rehash some things (respectfully) or share a little more about current stuff. Shifting shifting. It’s probably more about learning what and when than about a hard and fast rule. At least for me. For us.

6

Invisibility

I’m about to talk politics. Kind of. In a way. In my own way.

I cried last night. In bed, in my comfy weather-transition pajamas, watching Hillary Rodham Clinton give her amazing speech. Actually, I cried a few times. I admit it. I’m an emotional person. And other people who are passionate about their issues move me as, I’m sure you know, I’m pretty passionate person when it comes to those issues of my own. And so, seeing Hillary, all passionate about America, well, simply put, moved me. To tears.

But it was this line that really brought the tears. (Text of speech.)

Most of all, I ran to stand up for all those who have been invisible to their government for eight long years.

Of course, I cried harder with her very next line when she formally and boldly declared her support for Obama. I wanted to run up there and say, “ME TOO!” But back to this line. My writing on this line has less to do with the political race for President and more to do with a group that is truly invisible. And no, I’m not even talking about birth parents.

I am 100% sure that Hillary was not talking about adoptees. I am 100% sure that Obama wasn’t shaking his head while thinking about adoptees. I’m sure McCain’s staff, rolling their eyes and thinking that she wasn’t saying anything of merit (when in fact she was), wasn’t thinking about adoptees.

But I sure as heck was thinking about adoptees.

You want to talk about an “invisible” group in our country? What makes a person feel more invisible, more insignificant than not being able to access their most basic of information? You know what makes that person feel more invisible, more insignificant? Asking their government leaders to support them in the fight for that information… and being told that, no, they can’t have it because then scared little pregnant girls will be less likely to place their babies for adoption and thus stop making millions of dollars for people who already have millions of dollars!

THAT is an invisible group of people in our country. And they haven’t been invisible for the past eight years. Our country has a long history of making them invisible. It’s not about republicans or democrats when it comes to this issue. No candidate has addressed this specific issue. Nor do I assume that they will because they, most likely, view it as inconsequential to the winning of the election.

But is it inconsequential to you? Is it inconsequential to your children? Is it inconsequential to those adoptees who just want to hold in their own hands, for the first time, their Original Birth Certificate?

No.

But they’re too invisible to even blip on the radar of important issues to discuss. And, sadly, I don’t see it magically changing no matter who is elected.

01

Have You Heard This Song?

I was sitting here, editing pictures and listening to my LastFM. For those who don’t know, LastFM lets you input a singer/band or song and then plays similarly genre-ed music for you. I discover some great music this way. Currently, I have Nina Gordon as my input singer (don’t know her? you should!) and so I get some nice female rock this way. Liz Phair came on.

Now, the mainstream world doesn’t really know of Liz Phair before her 2003 hit, “Why Can’t I?” You may be surprised to know that she had quite a few albums before her self-titled one was released. Dating back to the early 90’s, Phair has been around the music world for “quite some time” when you think about it.

The song that came on was not one I had heard of and I wasn’t looking at the name of it when it changed songs. I just heard the first line. And I choked on my coffee. Ready for it? Here it goes.

My black market white baby dealer

Oh. Yeah. Heard that right. I immediately opened a Google window, found the lyrics to “Black Market White Baby Dealer” and read along as I listened, eyes bulging out of my head and ears shocked. The song was recorded by Liz herself on her first duo-tape (yes, tape) set in the early 90’s, Girlysound. It was the first track on Tape One.

Now, the quality is low, of course, being recorded in her parents’ basement. Add that into the fact that these lyrics will not be any internationally adopting parents favorite and the song may not sit well with large groups of people. But I dare you to read them in full. (Won’t copy/paste all due to copyright infringement.) But, even if you don’t want to read, here’s the chorus, which changes and gets progressively worse each time to finally include the word “expensive.” Honesty, no?

My black market white baby dealer
Is hunting around overseas
My black market white baby dealer
Brings back clean, fresh white babies to me

Other words for hunting include rooting and, yes, kidnapping. No, Phair sure isn’t making friends with the adoption world, now is she? She takes it further. Read on.

My smile is dime a dozen
My lips are cherry red
My eyes are blue like the sky is blue
I got good shoulders under my head
I look like your mother
I look like your great-aunt
So sit me down in the family photo
And everyone tells me that I, I look just like you

Ah, yes. And I started to wonder. These lyrics are the personal form of “I.” While singer-songwriters often take on stories that are not their own, this is an awfully big topic to take on without any prior knowledge of the adoption world. And so I asked myself, is Phair an adoptee?

Yes, yes she is.

This page has a Phair biography regarding her childhood and it discusses her adoption at various points. As opposed to the lyrics in her song, she was adopted domestically by a Doctor and his wife. She was the second child adopted into the family. Some of her quotes hit me hard. Read on, of course.

About five percent of my ambition is the idea that if I get visible enough my (biological) parents will come to me. And I won’t have to go find them. I thought that was a really good idea. Connecticut doesn’t release files. They might not want to be found, and if they did want to be found, what would that do to my sense of the possibilties in life? I’ve been given a free reign to create myself. I could be anything because, frankly, one doesn’t know what I’m destined for.

Wow. She puts up a tough front but the first sentence says it all: she does want to be found in some way or another. Isn’t that what all birth parents fear? That their relinquished child will balk at their arrival into their lives once again? And who thinks Phair could be a great spokesperson for opening records? Hmm?

She goes on:

It (being adopted) motivates my songwriting. It gives me that free space — I’ve got this mental idea that I’m not really, deep-down, fully attached to anything, like that floatable world that artists create for themselves. I’m a member of that world, intrinsically. I don’t have a biological mother to refute. Bad behavior in a child, you can frame it up against your parents — you know, ‘You’re just like your father.’ Since I don’t have that model, it frees me up to pursue what I want to perceive as myself.

I get her point. Sometimes I look at my (biological) family and think, “Well, I’m either going to turn out like this or like this.” Phair is stating that, because of her lack of knowledge about her nature, she’s free to nurture herself into whatever she wants to be. I bet that does feel freeing in a way. But I also know, still looking at my family, that I can be whatever I want to be as well. We all have that ability. We do. Some are just unwilling to take the steps to be what they want and fall into lazy patterns. Don’t deny it. Even I do it.

And there’s your daily history adoption lesson. I’m off to download the song and add it to my playlist(s).