The Conflict of Love and Ethiopian Adoption: “Girl, Adopted”

Posted on September 30, 2013 by

Update: On January 21, Girl, Adopted will be available on PBS World Channel at 6pm est time. Click here for information.

Girl, Adopted is a new documentary about Weynsht, adopted from Ethiopia to Arkansas, USA. You can learn more about it on the Facebook page here, and on the website (where you can download it) here.

From the itvs.com trailer

It is powerful, accurate, and potentially very triggering for adoptees.

Love, loss, confusion, resiliency, hope, struggle, ambivalence, and grief are all rolled together. Weynsht was adopted from Leyla House, AAI of Washington state’s orphanage (coincidentally the same agency as Hana Alemu Williams), and adopted to rural Arkansas when she was about 13, in 2006.

The film shows her in Leyla House, lively, dancing with friends to American music, happy yet hoping to be adopted. Her adoptive mother talks about having seen news when she was 10 years old about famine in Ethiopia and wanting to help, having “a dream of a little foreign baby.” The adoptive dad talks about being motivated by religious faith to adopt. They see a video of Weynsht at the orphanage, feel a connection to her, and travel to meet her there, spending some time at Leyla House and in Addis. The sound of children crying when Weynsht leaves is powerful.

Weynsht’s life in Arkansas shows her struggles being (what looks like) the only person of color in her school and community, of being habesha on the inside but American on the outside. There are fights, disappointments, confusion, and misunderstandings all around. At one point, she says she hates her hair, and goes through a lot of changes with hair and makeup. She begins to love her adoptive family, but struggles with being different, saying something like, My mom says it’s no big deal, but to me it is a big deal. It makes me sad.

She talks a lot about returning to Ethiopia, and after a few years in the US, she does so, with her adoptive dad and a couple of her adoptive sisters. This journey too is hard: she has lost most of her ability to speak Amharic, and Ethiopians are puzzled about how she could forget. The many children begging along the streets: how to help them? The children at Leyla House ask if she’s more American or Ethiopian now. They ask about her hair, her jewelry. She has no easy answers for who she is.

She visits with the woman who cared for her before the orphanage, trying to understand the truth of her past. Her adoptive family had been told that Weynsht had no family, but she had memories of an older brother, and indeed she learns more about him, a young man named Mesfin. They meet, and it’s confusing and uncomfortable and good at the same time. She learns about her birth father. Her Ethiopian caregiver tells her, in Amharic, “So now everything has worked out perfectly for you, right?” Weynsht’s face and words give way to her inner conflict and ambivalent losses.

When she is about to leave, she says she doesn’t want to, and an Ethiopian family friend takes her aside, saying that if she could send her children away like Weynsht, she would. You’re luckier than anyone, she tells the teen. If I had the chance, I’d just say Go!

Back in the US, Weynsht begins to deal with all the emotions again: I thought everything would be nice. But it was hard. Everything happened so quick. I don’t know my brother. I hope the best for him. I feel guilty my (adoptive) family sends money to Mesfin. I feel guilty they paid a lot of money to get me here.

How can my heart be broken? I have lots of people who love me, my mom and dad, my brother. My heart’s still not perfect. I don’t think I can find the pieces to put it together. God, Mom and Dad, my brother, they can’t do that. It can’t ever happen.

The film closes with a speech contest in which Weynsht talks about being adopted, how hard it can be, how children in Ethiopia pray to be adopted thinking that America will be heaven but it’s not. She doesn’t want anyone feeling sorry for her, and she loves her American family. Her high school graduation shows beaming, tearful parents and proud siblings.

Her dad reflects on the fact he used to think that everyone should adopt, but that was an idealistic view, and things get hard when the details are filled in. It’s clear he deeply loves all his children, including Weynsht, and that he grieves and struggles for her losses at the same time. “It’s worth it,” he says, “even if it’s hard.”

Weynsht is now finishing cosmetology school, the film says, and plans to remain in Arkansas near her family there.

The film trailer info says this: “Weynsht’s story offers a real-time, child’s-eye view of being adopted across race and culture. Without taking a pro- or anti-adoption position, it acknowledges the complexity involved in this increasingly common experience. The film revolves around the central question: what is it like to get everything you need but to lose everything you know?”

That is indeed one of many questions, and the answers can take a lifetime.

Speaking Their Truth: Ethiopian Heritage Camp

Posted on August 14, 2013 by

Ethiopian Heritage and Culture Camp, held this past weekend in Harrisonburg, VA, was wonderful. Dozens of families (Ethiopian, and adoptive families with Ethiopian children) enjoyed camaraderie, delicious meals, dancing, music, stories, games, crafts, and the delightful warmth of Ethiopian culture. I wrote about the activities and energy here.

The camp is designed to be, primarily, an opportunity “to connect, to educate.” We were to meet and learn about each other, as much as about Ethiopian culture.

From the camp booklet

The children of most of the adoptive parents there were young, toddlers to 10 years old, I’d guess. There were some older kids, as well as siblings of younger Ethiopian adoptees. They were gloriously cute, all those kids.

Here’s the thing. Little children, if things go as they should, grow up. We have a tendency in adoption to think only about children at the time of placement, and marginalize the reality that they become teens, then young adults, then adults, then old adults. The adorable little girl grows into a young woman who receives racist insults when she is with her friends waiting to enter a nightclub. The shy little boy grows into a young man who people move away from on the subway, or follow around in a nice store.

This year at camp, three courageous young women spoke their truths about “Growing Up Ethiopian In America.” I know two of them–my daughters Aselefech and Adanech–well.

(L-R) Nunu Worke, Aselefech Evans, Adanech Evans

(L-R) NuNu Wako, Aselefech Evans, Adanech Evans

NuNu Wako is the host of the NuNu Wako Show on EBS TV Global broadcasting internationally via Arab Sat and nationally on Dish Network. Born in Ethiopia and raised in the United States, she has been a model and spokesperson featured in print and other media. She is currently studying at the University of Maryland toward a degree in international studies. She is 26 years old.

Aselefech Evans is a rising senior at the University of Maryland, majoring in Family Sciences. She plans to get her MSW, and wants to work with children and families,perhaps in post-adoption services. She has presented numerous workshops and workshops on adoption-related issues (racism, identity, hair care, and more). She is a quarterly columnist for the new adoptee-centric, on-line magazine, Gazillion Voices. Born in Ethiopia, she was adopted as a 6-year-old along with her twin sister in 1994. She is 24 years old.

Adanech Evans is a rising senior at Bowie State University, finishing her degree in psychology. She was chosen to be a Teaching Assistant for freshmen psychology students starting in Fall 2013. Adanech is an avid traveler, from when she spent 3 weeks in high school going to school in Japan and touring the country, to her recent trips to Italy and England. She hopes to teach English in Korea or Japan when she finishes her degree, and especially to continue traveling. Born in Ethiopia, she was adopted as a 6-year-old along with her twin sister in 1994. She is 24 years old.

These 3 talented young women spoke eloquently and movingly about their love for their families and about the pain of racism. NunNu recalled seeing KKK while attending a West Virginia boarding school as a young girl, reflecting through tears the pain and confusion that caused for her. Aselefech talked about going recently to a predominately white DC club with her black girlfriends, and being taunted and insulted as they waited in line to get in.

All 3 spoke thoughtfully about whether they considered themselves black, African-American, Ethiopian, Ethiopian-American, or something else. How they see themselves and how the world sees them can often be at odds. They responded to questions from the audience members (primarily adoptive parents) about how having brown skin translates into being black, about the artificiality and the reality of the terms “black” and “white,” about how Obama’s election may have had great symbolism but that racism permeates our American culture as much as at any time in our history.

They talked about being proud of being Ethiopian, though much of the world does not understand more than stereotypes. They talked of the heartache of not being “Ethiopian enough” or “black enough” in certain contexts. And they talked about dating.

We in the audience both teared up with them and laughed out loud together. I hope that in the next few weeks to have one, two, or all three of them “guest blog,” because their words, their voices, matter most. Listening to them speak so beautifully from their hearts was powerful, and a privilege.

Heritage Camp: Ethiopian Celebration

Posted on August 12, 2013 by

Recently, I’ve written often here about the trial of Larry and Carri Williams, adoptive parents accused of homicide and manslaughter of their Ethiopian adopted daughter Hana and accused of first degree assault of their Ethiopian adopted son Immanuel. The case is tragic, unacceptable, and horrifying. It is also not representative of the vast majority of adoptions from Ethiopia to the United States. Here’s another, important perspective.

This past weekend, my twin daughters Adanech and Aselefech (adopted at 6 years old from Ethiopia, now almost 25), my granddaughter Zariyah, and I attended the Ethiopian Heritage and Culture Camp held in Harrisonburg, Virginia, at the Massanetta Springs Conference Center.

We joined over 200 people there, mostly other adoptive families like ours, as well as some Ethiopian families raising their children in the US. The camp is the beloved brainchild of Mekdes Bekele, the founder of the camp and a beautiful dynamo. This was the 5th year that families had gathered to celebrate and share their love for Ethiopia and its rich culture. Mekdes would be the first to say the camp is the result of a lot of wonderful, passionate volunteers working extremely hard to present this thoughtful planned and executed 4 day event of workshops, kids’ activities, dancing, story telling, amazing food, terrific speakers, and more. That’s true. But Mekdes is the compassionate, energetic force of nature that propels the camp into existence.

Mekdes Bekele, founder of Ethiopian Heritage and Culture Camp

This is the camp’s fifth year, an achievement in itself. Designed for both Ethiopian-American families and American families who have adopted Ethiopian children, the camp aims to connect and to educate, to celebrate being Ethiopian. It is a family camp, and not specifically focused on adoption, but adoption is a big part of this camp.

All the kids, from toddlers through teens, had their own track of activities. Most of the kids were Ethiopian, and some were siblings of adopted Ethiopian children. It was wonderful and amazing to see the kids connect. Some had been here before; for others, like my granddaughter, it was their first time. They learned to make chechebsa and to make Ethiopian baskets. They listened to Esubalew Meaza talk about the stories behind his travels across Ethiopia, gathering photos for his beautiful book, Ethiopia: Inspiring Journey.

The Wolves (6, 7, 8 year olds) at Ethiopian Heritage Camp

The parents also listened to wonderful speakers, including Esubalew Meaza, Dr. Electron Kebebew (chief of the Endocrine Oncology Branch of the National Cancer Institute, and possessor of a cool name) and writer Jane Kurtz (Jane grew up in Ethiopia as the child of missionary parents, and has written many award-winning children’s books, including several about Ethiopia; she is also a founder of Ethiopia Reads).

Perhaps the most meaningful time for the children and the parents was the Saturday night traditional Ethiopian banquet, for which everyone wore their beautiful Ethiopian clothing.

The weekend also included lots of Ethiopian music and dancing, from many regions of Ethiopia.

Dancing Sunday morning

While that was great fun in itself, it was witnessing the sheer joy of children taking pride in their culture and witnessing the strength and love given to the children by the many Ethiopian role models that was astonishingly powerful.

Making connections, building pride

Many of these role models are immigrants themselves, who love and miss Ethiopia, and who left Ethiopia to find more opportunities in America. They have a special place in their hearts for the Ethiopian adoptees. An amazing, beautiful weekend.

This post gives you, I hope, a sense for the overall energy of Heritage Camp. My next post will look at some of the challenging, courageous conversations that occurred around race, around bigotry, around hope, around expectations, and around listening.

Light of Day Stories

Category Archives: Ethiopia

The Conflict of Love and Ethiopian Adoption: “Girl, Adopted”

Speaking Their Truth: Ethiopian Heritage Camp

Heritage Camp: Ethiopian Celebration