Over the years, when adoptive parents are asking other adoptive parents for advice about adoption, I’ve recommended that they ask adult adoptees. I am reconsidering this approach.

My lens here is as a white adoptive parent of (now adult) Black children, two born in the US and two born in Ethiopia. In an international adoption group, questions like this have been posted: Would Europe be a safe, less racist place than the US for my Black son to live? Should we send money to our children’s birth family? My adopted child (a young adult) is feeling anxious about the current immigration-ICE events: what should I tell them?

We white adoptive parents tend to default to other white adoptive parents as sources of information about adoptees. Often this is because the parents live in an almost completely white space with few racial mentors and few adoptee mentors. Also, it may feel safer to ask our familiars these questions, than to do the work of developing friendships with, say, Black or Asian people. We may not know many (or any) adult adoptees, or may feel insecure about asking them questions. Sometimes adoptive parents feel they should know all the answers, as we are often held up as exemplary merely because we adopted.

Often in Facebook groups and in other settings, I suggest adoptive parents talk to adoptees to get answers to their questions. Why do I say this?

• Adopted people are the experts on the lived experience of being adopted.

• Adoptive parents need to stop defaulting to the safety and comfort of other adoptive parents as experts. Sure, they can be one source, but

• For far too long, adoptive parents have dominated many adoption spaces, and were seen as the best and sometimes only people who should speak about adoption.

• This one’s more nuanced: my implicit hope is that adoptive parents have done work to incorporate other adoptees and people of color (besides their children) in their lives because the parents are white and not adopted, and their children are not white and are adopted. They should have at least a few adult adoptees to talk to in person. “Should” is of course a tricky word.

Our adopted children might be good sources of information, and we adoptive parents also ought to make the circle wider. I have had many adoption-related conversations with my four children, now all in their late 30’s. Each has a very different perspective on adoption. I got to know many adult adoptees during the process of editing our book, “Lions Roaring Far From Home: An Anthology by Ethiopian Adoptees.” Those adoptees had been raised in the US, Canada, France, Sweden, Australia, and the Netherlands. I also follow groups such as Ethiopian Adoptees of the Diaspora, Ethiopian Adoptees Foundation, the podcast Ethiopian Adoptees Unapologetically Unfiltered, and more. I follow many adoptees on Instagram and on LinkedIn. There are lots on TikTok of course; I am not a frequent TikTok user.

I have probably overstepped fairly often, injected myself into conversations that were not mine to enter, and unintentionally leapt over boundaries. Mostly people have been kind to me about that.

Like any group, the perspective of adult adoptees will vary. That, to me, is why having a variety of folks to talk to can be so important.

Still: I believe we adoptive parents must accept that, while adoptees can be excellent, valuable sources of information, they have no obligation to talk with us. Some adoptees who are active on social media have no interest in talking with adoptive parents, their own or anybody else’s.

Others are more open to working with adoptive parents. Transracial adoptees Isaac Etter, Angela Tucker, Patrick Armstrong, and Cam Lee Small come to mind, for example. Same race adoptees Joyce Maguire Pavao, Jennifer Dyan Ghoston‘s podcast “Once Upon a Time in Adopteeland,” and Haley Radke’s podcast AdopteesOn all provide amazing resources. I’d be remiss if I did not mention the incredible, valuable programs of Adoption Mosaic, for whom I am a co-facilitator and consultant. The “We The Experts” programs are thoughtful, challenging, and community-building. The adoptee-centric workshops require that non-adoptees do not ask questions or otherwise comment; we are meant to listen and learn.

When we connect with any of these folks, and there are many more, we adoptive parents should consider the professional training in which many of the adoptees have participated. Buy the books. Pay for the classes. Leave a positive review. Do not partake without giving back in some way.

Consider also the value of lived experience and the notion of emotional labor. The essays that are in “Lions Roaring” are an example of that. Some of our writers shared stories that are haunting and painful. They wrote from their hearts, and the rest of us are fortunate to read their words. Some of the writers do not want to read their own words ever again, because offering that gift of writing was soul-draining.

Some adoptees thus have no interest in performing any emotional labor, especially for adoptive parents. It’s too heartbreaking for them. We adoptive parents need to be mindful of that, and not expect that all adoptees can or ought to share with us. Ask first; respect boundaries without judgment. Express gratitude.

I continue to learn, including now from my grandchildren, who are not adopted yet adoption affects them too, as the children of adoptees. I believe fully in listening to adoptees, in asking questions while first asking permission, and in respecting those who may not want to talk whether because of deep trauma or a headache or whatever: no reason has to be given. I will do my best to answer questions as well, if asked, and to hold myself back from offering my insights if not asked. I genuinely hope we can all continue to learn from each other, to heal, to grow.