Category Archives: Ethiopian mothers

Aselefech Evans, Ethiopian Adoptee, Speaks With the BBC about PM Abiy’s Recent Adoption

Posted on by
Reply

A few days ago, the Prime Minister of Ethiopia and his wife were granted permission to adopt an Ethiopian child. The little boy, about two years old, will have three siblings in the Abiy family.

In 1994, 6-year-old Aselefech Evans arrived in the US from Ethiopia along with her twin sister. They were adopted by white parents in Maryland, and have two brothers who were also adopted. I am their adoptive mother. I love them all beyond words. I also recognize the challenges they have faced, as adoptees, as black people, as transracial adoptees.

Today, Aselefech was interviewed by the BBC’s Newsday program about the PM’s adoption. Her interview is available here.

I am so proud of her. It is not easy to do a brief phone interview on a nuanced, multi-layered subject. She spoke straight from her heart and her intellect. When she received the link from Newsday, she reflected on it this way: “I think after listening to the interview, i stayed true to my lived experience while honoring the complexities of adoption, But the conversation can’t stop here. Adoptees and birth parents need to be leading this discussion.” Absolutely true.

Aselefech reuniting in Ethiopia with her mother. Photo ©: Maureen McCauley

Adoptions from Ethiopia ended in January 2017. Some 15,000 Ethiopian children were adopted to the US over a span of about 20 years; hundreds if not thousands went also to western Europe, Canada, and Australia, among other places. Slowly and steadily, we are hearing the voices of these adoptees, sharing good and bad experiences, demanding change, wanting to re-connect with Ethiopia, working with Ethiopian NGOs to promote family preservation, searching for birth family, wondering about DNA, and so much more. Their voices are invaluable. Hopefully we will eventually hear from Ethiopian first/birth parents, as well as grandparents, siblings, and other family members.

The fact that the Prime Minister and the First Lady of Ethiopia have chosen to adopt publicly sends a big message in a country that has thousands of children in orphanages, as well as a history of informal adoptions and an understanding of adoption that varies greatly from that of the West. Maybe there will be stronger impetus toward family preservation, toward promoting social programs that keep children (who are often not orphans) out of orphanages. Maybe more Ethiopians will adopt in-country, meaning that children will retain their language, heritage, and culture.

Aselefech has been a long-standing proponent and advocate for family preservation. Having reunited with her Ethiopian family, she has said that some questions were answered, and some never will be. As an adoptive parent, I work toward a world where adoption isn’t needed: where medically fragile children can be cared for in their own country and with their own family of origin; where all children are safe and loved; and where no mother has to lose her child due to poverty or social stigma. In the meantime, I advocate for transparent, ethical adoptions that have resources for everyone, before and after the adoption.

I am hoping that Aselefech will write more. She blogs at EthioAmericanDaughter, and tweets at @AselefechE. She is the co-founder of Ethiopian Adoptees of the Diaspora. I hope that other adopted people continue to write also, and to share their stories.

To close out this post, I want to remind folks of the great work being done by a number of organizations in Ethiopia. One is Bring Love In, an NGO in Addis that creates families with widows and orphans, rather than international adoption. Another is AHope For Children, which provides support to HIV+ children and aims to preserves families and reduce stigma. Another is Ethiopian Adoption Connection/Beteseb Felega. They have created a database for Ethiopian families and adoptees to find each other. We also support the work of Selamta, of Roots Ethiopia, and of the Lelt Foundation. There are many excellent organizations working to strengthen vulnerable families to prevent separation, to empower women, and to keep children in families. Please support them.


Sentencing Hearings on IAG’s Fraud, Bribery (Finally) Held Today

Posted on by
6

Update: On October 20, 2016, I spoke with a clerk in Judge David Norton’s office who said that sentencing would not occur for at least another month. The clerk said that was because a different judge had originally heard the case. That judge has passed away, and Judge Norton “inherited” the case and apparently needs more time to decide on sentencing. The three defendants pled guilty about two years ago. The sentencing hearing was held August 29. The clerk said it is unusual for sentencing to take so long, but it was due to the previous judge’s death and a new judge in charge of the case. I am so sorry for all the families caught up in this. No such thing as closure.

 

More than two years after the staff of International Adoption Group (IAG) were indicted for fraud and bribery by the U.S.Justice Department, the three defendants finally faced a judge today for their sentencing hearing. Mary Mooney, James Harding, and Alisa Bivens, all of whom had pled guilty, appeared in court today before District Court Judge David Norton in Charleston, South Carolina. Judge Norton could make a decision on sentencing within the week, though the exact time frame is unclear.

Camille Smicz and her family are among the victims of IAG. Camille was present in the courtroom today, and provided a victim impact statement. Camille’s voice spoke for the many families, in the U.S. and in Ethiopia, harmed by the criminal actions of IAG.

Today, according to Camille, the judge mentioned his concerns with the delays in this case, including Mary Mooney’s effort to change her plea from guilty to not guilty, (That attempt was denied.) Minimum sentencing could be probation. Maximum sentencing would be five years in a federal prison. Once sentenced, the defendants have 14 days to appeal the decision.

The prosecution in this case called a forensic financial analyst as a witness, who spoke about the finances of the victims due to IAG’s actions. The prosecution is asking for restitution for some of the families. It is unclear how or whether that will happen.

Camille noted that Alisa Bivens had been a youth pastor at a church up until last month,  and recruited 26 people from her church who wrote letters on her behalf. There was at least one person from the church who plans to report back to the congregation regarding the sentencing hearing.

While it has taken an inordinately long time to reach this point, the case seems to finally be moving toward a sort of closure. I know families are exhausted from the emotional toll this has taken. The extent of the corruption, fraud, and bribery done in the name of helping children is unconscionable.

My thanks to Camille Smicz for sharing this information, and for speaking out for the victims. I urge you to read Camille’s victim impact statement.

As soon as I hear the judge’s decision, I will post again.

Heading to Ethiopia for Art, Photos, And Stories

Posted on by
2

In just a few weeks, I will be heading to Ethiopia. It will be my fourth trip, my second with some folks from Ethiopia Reads plus some new friends, Ethiopian and American, all of whom are artists and writers.

Here’s what we will be doing:

Creating art and photographs that we will transform into books for Ethiopian children. The books will be fun and colorful; they will also be culturally appropriate and respectful. They will be translated into local languages for Ethiopia Reads’ schools and libraries. Books are a big deal. Books for children in the local language spoken by the children are rare; I am thrilled to be a part of making them more common, and getting them into the hands of children who have no books.

IMG_0005

Children reading in the Awassa Library of Ethiopia Reads © Maureen McCauley Evans

Traveling some 500 miles south of Addis Ababa to Maji, a beautiful, remote area with no electricity. Yes, indeed. We writers, artists, and photographers will spend a week in Maji taking pictures, drawing, painting, and listening to the stories of the people there. I and others will be donating our photos and paintings for several 2016 exhibits across the US, to raise funds for Ethiopia Reads’ libraries in southwest Ethiopia.

IMG_7016

Beautiful child in Ethiopia © Maureen McCauley Evans

Preserving the stories of marginalized, vulnerable people. In Maji, we will be talking with and listening to people who live without electricity, who are working to hold on to a language that could disappear, and whose stories will become part of books and other materials for the children.

I am also planning to continue a project dear to my heart: collecting, preserving, and sharing the stories of Ethiopian first mothers, those who gave their children up for adoption. Theirs are among the most silent and silenced voices in the adoption community, and their stories deserve to be told.

I look forward to visiting with dear friends in Ethiopia, and once again enjoying the vibrancy and beauty of the country. There is great upheaval there as well: economic, environmental, and political. I am not ignoring that reality. Children and women are often among those who suffer most in times of strife. Literacy (including books in local languages) can make a difference. So can electricity, and, I’d argue, art.

Original art © Maureen McCauley Evans

For more information about this adventure, please take a look at Ethiopian Odyssey.

 

Grandparents Day 2014: Reflections on the Known and Unknown. More More More.

Posted on by
5

One of my son Christopher’s favorite books as a toddler was “More More More! Said the Baby,” by Vera Williams. It’s lovely, a Caldecott Honor Book, published in 1990, with wonderful illustrations also by Williams. One of the three little stories features a blond, white grandma swooping up her Little Pumpkin, a black child.

Here’s an illustration from the book:

moremoremore

You can hear Vera Williams talk about and read the book here. She wrote it for her grandson Hudson, and expanded it to include other babies.

Here’s Chris with his grandma, my mother, who–always with makeup and blond hair just so–never failed to get down on the floor and play with him.

Mom with her youngest grandchild, about 22 years ago.

Mom with her youngest grandchild, about 22 years ago.

My mom, who died 12 years ago, was an incredible grandmother. She loved her (adopted, African-American, African) adopted grandchildren unconditionally; her views on civil rights and racism moved from philosophical to personal, in a thoughtful, decisive way. She would have adored her great-granddaughter Z, born in 2006. I adore Z, as anyone who knows me even briefly is all too aware.

Like my mother, I am not biologically related to my grandchild. Z is the biological child of my adopted daughter, Aselefech. Z is genetically related to her aunt (her mother’s twin sister; both girls were adopted from Ethiopia in 1994), but not to her two uncles (my adopted sons). We all have dealt (from varying perspectives) with white privilege, with racism, with humiliation, with stereotyping, with grief. We crazy love each other.

Z has a non-adopted 7 year old’s understanding of adoption. She knows she looks more like her mom, aunt, and uncles than she looks like me, since I’m white and they are not. She knows what it’s like when people do double-takes when she says I’m her grandma. She knew since she was little about her Ethiopian family, in Ethiopia. She had seen photos, and heard stories. She has visited with her Ethiopian uncle who now lives in Seattle, via winning a visa lottery ticket several years ago.

Grandparents can be elusive creatures. They are often old when they become grandparents (I am a notable exception), though not as old as we think they are when we are children. Families used to live over the meadow or above the duplex from the grandparents; increasingly, that has changed. Adoption, especially international, creates a whole other level to knowing grandparents. As an adoptive parent, when my children were little, I thought about their birth mothers, then fathers, maybe. I gave little thought to other members of the family tree: the grandparents, the siblings, the aunts, uncles, cousins.

Over the years, as my children grew and my heart opened, I gave much more thought to their first families. Some are known, some are unknown. Some are gone. Some could still be found.

During our recent trip to Ethiopia, Z met Desta, her grandmother, Aselefech’s mother. Aselefech had last visited with her Ethiopian family in 2011; this was the first visit for Z.

Z did well, though she was understandably tentative. Like Aselefech, she looks like her Ethiopian relatives, yet she can speak to them only through a translator, one of the most poignant, painful parts of international adoption when the original language does not endure. Conversations with unfamiliar relatives can be awkward when we speak the same language and share the same culture, religion, education, and economics. It didn’t matter here. Desta loved Z before she met her on this visit, as she loves all her grandchildren (her 6th is expected anytime now). She cannot scoop up Z as my mom scooped up Chris, because Desta did not even meet Z until Z was almost 8. She missed those early years, as she will miss most of Z’s daily life; we don’t know when she and Z will see each other again. We will do our best to keep in touch, to send photos, to connect. So much heartache in adoption, along with so much love.

I am filled with gratitude and wonder that Z met, hugged, talked with, smiled at, and said goodbye to her Ethiopian grandmother, along with aunts, uncles, and cousins.

Chris lost his grandma when he was 12, and I know he misses her deeply. All my children do. Their grandmother was a powerful force of unconditional love in their lives.

My maternal grandparents died before I was born. I have good memories of my dad’s parents (we watched the Lawrence Welk Show together, and they came over for Sunday dinner each week), but I can’t say I knew them all that well. I wish I did. It’s astonishing how little we know about people just a generation or two away from us.

Adopted children (who grow up!) deserve to know their families. (Safety obviously has to be a factor, but fear of the unknown should not be.)  We adoptive parents need to embrace, at least emotionally, our children’s first families, including the grandparents who may well have wanted to know and love them. What a gift and blessing to know our grandparents, and to know their stories: what their childhoods were like, how they fell in love, what their happiest days were, what memories make them smile. I cannot imagine not having Z as my granddaughter; I love sharing stories with her and making memories. Being a grandparent has made me understand and appreciate so much in this wild life.

For all the losses and the missed time, what richness we have. Yes, it’s imperfect. It’s tempting to see only absence, rather than presence, and too many people have been marginalized or made far more vulnerable than is fair.

Still. Seek out more, more, more. Swoop up loved ones, known and unknown. Ask questions, listen to stories, and insist on understanding what the possibilities are. Tomorrow is not promised to us. People die. While you can, seek out more, more, more.

Happy Grandparents Day. Thinking of beloveds, in heaven and all over earth.

Z and me

Research on Ethiopian Birth Families: A Must-Read

Posted on by
5

As an adoptive parent, I feel very strongly that the voices of birth parents need to be heard and listened to, in our own families as well as in adoption legislation and policy.

A few salient quotes from an academic research report, Birth Families and Intercountry Adoption in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia:

“70% of adopted children have a surviving birth parent in Ethiopia, making it painstakingly clear that most of these parents are not offered other types of assistance…

The conceptualization behind intercountry adoption obscures focus on the most inexpensive and highest quality option–enabling a child to remain with his/her living birthparent and assisting that birthparent to make a local plan for after his/her death…

Some of the most impoverished communities in Africa have proven capable of caring for orphans and vulnerable children, even in the context of the HIV/AIDS pandemic, when nurtured by programs that identify and seek to repair the holes in the safety net…”

These excerpts are from a 2010 thesis written by (US citizen) Sarah Brittingham for her M.A. in Development Studies at the International Institute of Social Studies in The Hague.

IMG_2096

 

Despite their obvious and vulnerable role in international adoption, birth/original/first parents have received too little attention in terms of academic work, and certainly in terms of post-placement services. This thesis sheds additional light, along with the MSW work of  Kalkidan Alelign. You can read Ms. Alelign’s important thesis in my post, Ethiopian Birth Mothers After Relinquishment: MSW Research from Addis Ababa University.

Sarah Brittingham’s research has an extensive amount of references, including research on Marshall Islands’ adoptions that is remarkably relevant to Ethiopia: “If I Give You My Child, Aren’t We Family? A Study of Birth Mothers Participating in Marshall Islands–US Adoptions.” Brittingham’s research echoes that of the Marshall Islands, in that “Few (Ethiopian) participants showed an understanding of intercountry adoption as complete severance of ties with their children. Instead, adoption seems to represent ‘a link between two families creating a relation of kinship for support and expanded rights.'”

That notion of “a link between two families” is challenging to define, as it is a form of open international adoption. I believe that will be the model for the future of inter country adoption, a model that relinquishes fear and falsehoods. If adoptions are to continue, they must be ethical, transparent, and fair.

Here is a quote from an Ethiopian birth mother, comparing her experience to that of a close friend’s:

We both gave our children through the same agency, but I don’t hear about my children. When I went to the agency to demand information, they told me contact is based on the adoptive parents’ willingness and personality. Some want a picture, calls, etc., and some don’t, and they can’t do anything about it. It is up to the adoptive parents. But I think that if it is the same agency and the same law, it should apply to all parents…

I would love to hear the insights of adoption agencies on this, on what the agreements or inferences were and are regarding post-placement contact. My sense, based on anecdotes, is that increasing numbers of adoptive parents are reaching out and contacting Ethiopian birth families on their own, but I have no hard research on that.

I do feel certain that enormous confusion exists over what information the birth families were promised, following the placement of their children. There is great hope, even expectation, among many Ethiopian birth families that their children will go back to Ethiopia, and contribute to the country, and perhaps to the birth family as well.

One participant in the Brittingham thesis says “I wish for God to give me a long life so that I will be able to see (my children).” An adoptee “believed that intercountry adoption was the best way to help her mother, stating, ‘it’s better we go outside, and when we have something of our own, we will help you.’ ”

We–adoptive parents, adoption agencies, and adoption policymakers–need to hear these voices of Ethiopian original parents and of adopted persons.

We need to insist on additional research on intercountry adoption outcomes, especially as related to birth families.

We need to insist on improved, equitable services for all involved.

Many thanks to those who are researching these issues.

May those who are proposing new laws, policies, and funding genuinely hear the voices and the needs of marginalized first families.

 

 

 

 

Ethiopian Birth Mothers After Relinquishment: MSW Research from Addis Ababa University

Posted on by
12

Adoption agency staff and social workers, prospective and current adoptive parents of Ethiopian children: Nothing should shock you in this research. It may break your heart a bit. I hope it will bring us closer to meeting the realities of Ethiopian birth mothers, and birth families.

Written as a thesis by Kalkidan Alelign, an Ethiopian graduate student for a Master’s Degree in Social Work at Addis Ababa University, “Birth Mothers’ Experience After Relinquishment” is an anomaly of sorts. It appears to be one of only two academic papers that look at what happens to Ethiopian birth mothers after they place their children. I’ll discuss the other in my next post on this subject. My thanks to Themia Sica for first posting the link in a Facebook adoptive parent group. Kalkidan is now vice president of Ethiopian Adoption Connection, also known as Betesab Felega. They do remarkable, valuable work reuniting Ethiopian adoptees and their families.

To say there is a need to provide post-adoption counseling to Ethiopian birth mothers is a laughable understatement. Agencies: are you listening, especially if you are looking at moving to new countries to place children? Please do not abandon the first families.

The writer of the thesis, Kalkidan Alelign, defines adoption as the separation of mothers and their children as a result of relinquishment.

The thesis itself is typical in that half of it is the question/objective, the literature review, and the research method. It’s around Chapter 4, “Findings,” that the objective academic language delves into the lives of 5 birth mothers: Fikirte, Hayat, Hewan, Nina, and Selam. The names are not real. The emotions are.

Admittedly, it’s a small sample. The author calls it qualitative research, and my sense is that it is likely quite representative of many birth mothers in Ethiopia.

Of the mothers interviewed for this thesis, 3 are single, and 2 are widows. They range in age from 25 to 30. Two are Muslim, 3 are Orthodox Christian. Their education ranges from “none” to a diploma. The interviews took place a year after relinquishment for 2 of the mothers, 3 years after for 2 mothers, and 5 years after for 1 mother.

I’ll give an overview here, and I encourage you to read the thesis for yourself.

Why did the mothers relinquish?

  • Money problems (usually temporary)
  • Social pressure (stigma, children born to unwed parents)
  • The mother’s HIV status (fear of dying and wanting to have a plan for the child/ren)
  • Lack of social support (the father of the child didn’t want the child; no friends or relatives to help with a baby)

The above reasons are not surprising. But what about this one?

  • Disinformation (expecting to maintain contact in some way)

Hewan, a 30-year-old widow with no education, said “she was willing to relinquish because she was told she would be receiving information about her children…However, it had been about five years and she still never heard about her children. Nina and Selam had to wait three years before they heard about their children.”

Hewan, Nina, and Selam also “never had the chance to say good-bye to their children.”

Read that sentence again, and then look at your children.

“All participants indicated that relinquishing their children was ‘the most difficult experience’ of all.”

Nina said of her last day with her child: “I could not sleep. I was holding him and staring at him all night long…I was telling him not to be scared and that he would grow up being a good man. Even though he was only four days old, he was looking straight into my eyes and it felt like he was searching for my soul.”

What were the feelings of the mothers after they relinquished their children?

  • Realizing the Loss (Nina: “After I gave my child to the orphanage I went home. There the first thing I did was take a shower, then it hit me. I just lost my baby and here I was being comfortable. I cried for a long time every day.”)
  • Anger (“After they relinquished their children, it was challenging for them to be back in the environment in which their children were lost from…They were also crying a lot and were angry almost every day.”)
  • Regrets (“Selam and Hewan regretted their decision in relation to what their expectation was and what the reality is. They state they were told by the delala (the broker) that they will have frequent contact with their children or with the adoptive parents…Hewan said: ‘If I knew that there would be no contact, that I would end up wondering about my children every day, that the pain does not go away…if only I knew then what I know now, I wouldn’t have relinquished my children.'”

Two of the birth mothers do not regret their decision. Hayat and Fikirte…have met the adoptive parents. Both have some sort of contact with their children, one through the adoption agency and one via telephone and email. Fikirte says ‘The meeting and the pictures assured me that my daughter is well taken care of. She has grown up and is living a life that I am sure she wouldn’t be having if she was with me.'”)

  • Blame (Two mothers blamed themselves “for not being mother enough to endure the challenges they once faced.” Others blamed the father, or family, for “not caring enough or for not understanding their pain.”)
  • Grief (“All participants stated that they grieved for their children every day. They also stated that though they grieve every day, some days are more painful than others.”)
  • Fear (“Nina and Hewan imagined everything that may go wrong in their children’s lives. They also wondered if their children understood why they relinquished them. They wonder if their children would accept them as their mothers when and if they meet them in the future.”)

Further, those who have children after placing a child for adoption feel overprotective, For Hewan, “It is her fear that she would lose him (the child she kept) too and ‘end up alone.'”)

The mothers also talked about circumstances that evoked or worsened their experience, such as “holidays, birthdays, and any other days that are celebrated in each family…On such days they either wish for their children to be part of the celebration or blame those who are celebrating it for doing it in the absence of their children.” Other triggers were “visiting a mother who gave birth, watching a mother with her son in public, watching young couples walk hand in hand, and watching a mother begging for alms with her children.”

Another trigger is lack of contact. Hewan said “having no contact with her children or the adoptive parents has made her loss ‘unbearable.’…She further stated that all the negative news that she heard about adoption in different media affected her, including her will to live.”

What are some of their coping mechanisms?

  • Acceptance (“Fikirte said, ‘When I finish my daily work, I sit for a long time and look at her (daughter’s photo) album or the framed picture of her in my room. I feel mixed feelings of happiness and sadness.'”)
  • Talking (“All participants reported that talking about their feelings and getting support from friends makes a lot of difference in their experience of relinquishment…(W)hen they share their experience, they feel like a weight is lifted off their shoulders…”)
  • Helping Others (Nina said, “When I see mothers in trouble or youngsters in the street I would go and talk to them to show them that somebody cares. Because I feel if somebody had cared enough I wouldn’t be in this position. Everything I feel I have missed or should have been done for me, I do it for others.”)
  • Concealing feelings (“All participants reported that they prefer not to talk about their feelings whenever they feel that they are judged or when they feel people would not understand them.”)
  • Withdrawing (“…the participants stated that the response from the community regarding their decision and how they should live their life after (the relinquishment) makes them question their desire to be part of the society.”)
  • Spirituality (“All of the participants stated that their faith has a major contribution in helping them accept what happened in their life.”)

I have met and embraced my daughters’ Ethiopian mother. My heart aches for her and for these mothers, recognizing that we can, and must, provide better, humane, and helpful services to them, the women who have placed their children in the hands of others. Regardless of whether adoption declines or continues, there is an obligation to not forget these mothers and families.

While this thesis is difficult to read, I am grateful for it. Ms. Alelign, the thesis author, recommends the following, in terms of social work practice:

Counseling, to make sure that birth mothers fully understand what relinquishment means and can make genuinely informed decisions. “Counseling services should also be provided to help birth mothers deal with what they experience after relinquishing.”

Advocacy, “for better awareness of the community about  birth mothers…because a positive response from the community can have an impact in minimizing the challenges they face while trying to play their role in society.” Advocacy is also important regarding “awareness as to how significant it is for the birth mothers to have contact with the adoptive parents or their children.”

Networking, because “Creating a psychosocial support group for birth mothers is also very important at this level since there are no support groups or organizations that help birth mothers.”

We must see their faces and hear their voices when adoption policy is discussed.

We must listen to them, and we must tell their stories.

A Heartfelt View of Ethiopian Adoption, From Ethiopians: Listen Up

Posted on by
5

My dear friend Yadesa Bojia is a talented artist, graphic designer, and singer/songwriter. He’s Ethiopian by birth, grew up in Ambo (a small city near Addis), and moved to the US in 1995. He now lives in Seattle, and is devoted to his family and active in the community. His design was selected in 2010 for the African Union flag. Take a look at his website here.

Yadesa Bojia

Yadesa Bojia

He contributed this beautiful piece of art for the Ethiopia Reads fundraiser: the painting sold for just over $3000.

Original artwork by Yadesa Bojia

Original artwork by Yadesa Bojia

All too often in discussions of international adoption, we fail to include so many voices: adoptive parents are dominant. Adoptees and first parents rarely are included.

We adoptive parents must make sure the voices of first parents are always a transparent, ethical part of any discussion about adoption.

The voices of the people in the country of origin (in this case Ethiopia) are often varied, of course, and are also too rarely heard.

We need to listen to them.

The following is taken, with permission, from a Facebook post today by Yadesa. It includes a video link to a news report and a powerful interview with an Ethiopian first mother. The video is in Amharic, without translation. Yadesa has summarized it in this post:

“We heard the move by Ethiopian government to totally shut down international adoption. As a long time observer of adoption from Ethiopia, I know how difficult and heart breaking this can be for families that are invested their heart, time and money (it costs a lot). I met great families and friends who adopted from Ethiopia and adopted the culture and the love for the country. I watched them care for the babies and I love them. I also expected the shut down because of some of the unbelievable and inhumane corruptions by organizations to snatch babies out of poor mothers love so they can make them adoptable. This activity is incredibly cruel to both families in each side of the story.

Meet Ms. Asnaketch Negussie. According to the Ethiopian Television interview, she said ten years ago when her husband passed away, she was approached by these organizations and they urged her to let go of her daughter and her boy. Her daughter, Selamawit, was at the time was 3 and half and her son Abel was twelve. When she refused, the organization told her to ‘let your daughter live a better life than you can provide her.’ Imagine the need to keep her daughter and the guilt of keeping her away from a better life. She finally surrendered and gave Selamawit away but the age of the boy did not make him adoptable (older boys or girls have lesser chance to be adopted). Fast forward to today. Abel stayed in Ethiopia, graduated from high school and went to college and graduated with honor. He is now gainfully employed and helping his mom. They have no idea what happened to Selamawit and the report ends with the mother saying, ‘If I don’t see her, I will die with an emotional scar. My body will never rest.’

Selamawit may be living in a better place, with people that care for her and love her but at the end both families will deal with the emotional scar undoubtably. I am for better life for kids anywhere in the world. If it took adoption to make that happen, let it be. But adoption need to be the last resort, it needs to have stages and it also need to be transparent and voluntarily done.

Judge for yourself. To learn more about this please read “The Child Catchers” by Kathryn Joyce.”

Below is the link to the video Yadesa posted. Although I don’t speak Amharic, listening to this Ethiopian first mother was very powerful.

http://www.diretube.com/ethiopia-news/adoption-in-ethiopia-and-current-status-video_ac0f88402.html#.Ur2oOBZU5LE

Thank you very much, Yaddi. We need to hear and listen to your voice, and to those of first families.

At the beginning of his post above, Yadesa alludes to the recent news about Ethiopia possibly closing to adoption. More information is available here.

I am beginning work on a project to preserve and honor the stories of Ethiopian first mothers. Here is a recent post.

My thanks to Asnaketch Negussie for sharing her poignant story in the video. I am keeping Selamawit in my heart as well.

 

Asnaketch Megussie, first mother

Asnaketch Megussie, first mother

First Families Project

Posted on by
Reply

Wow. Since I published it Wednesday (Dec. 11), my post about The Stories of Ethiopian First Mothers, and of Their Children touched a lot of hearts, and perhaps a few nerves. The response was incredible: close to 600 shares on Facebook, as of today (Dec. 16). More than 3000 views.

Many thanks to those of you who posted a link to my blog, and to those of you who commented and emailed me. I heard from many adoptive parents, some adult adoptees, and a few adoption agency workers. Several people have offered to help, in both big and small ways, and I am very grateful for those offers.

Please feel free to comment and/or send an email: Maureen AT LightofDayStories.com.

Over the next few weeks, I will be connecting with several folks who have varied and helpful perspectives on the possibilities of this project. I have no intention to reinvent wheels that already exist and spin well. I believe in partnerships that can move projects ahead in a respectful, transparent way.

One clarification about adding fathers/grandparents/siblings in the project: In proposals I have been writing, I acknowledge first families, not only first mothers. I have no interest in being exclusionary. I do want to be realistic and well-focused. The needs are huge, and there must be parameters in order to achieve success.  I have enough experience with nonprofits to be very aware of the dangers of over-extending resources, especially in the early stages of projects. Small steps can be vital to long-term success.

A recap of the two goals:

(1) To create an infrastructure to deliver information from adoptive families to Ethiopian first families. This one is very complicated and potentially fraught with all sorts of problems, involving laws, money, emotions, unintended consequences, and more. Lots of gray areas. I’m looking forward to seeing what the possibilities are, and then bringing about positive changes.

(2) To record, honor, and preserve the stories of Ethiopian first mothers. This one has its own complexities, and will be easier to implement.

Many thanks to all those who are joining me on this journey.

Watercolor by Katie Griffing Bradley

Watercolor by Katie Griffing Bradley

I love this beautiful painting of an Ethiopian woman smiling as she serves coffee, an essential and intrinsic part of Ethiopian culture. More information on the artist, Katie Griffing Bradley, is available here.

The Stories of Ethiopian First Mothers, and of Their Children

Posted on by
41

Here is something I am working on, that I thought I’d send out to the universe today:

Among the most marginalized people in the world are the first mothers of adopted Ethiopian children. Many of these women would not place their children for adoption were it not for abject poverty.

Since 1999, about 13,000 children have been placed in the US from Ethiopia. Many of their mothers never hear from, or even about, their children ever again. These women don’t have access to the Internet or support groups or media. They often live in isolation, with their memories and sorrow.

I have yet to hear about US adoption agencies offering significant post-placement services to Ethiopian first mothers, in their language, with cultural competence. Fewer children are being placed from Ethiopia. Adoption agencies aren’t working there as much anymore. So what happens to the first families? What sort of grief and loss counseling do adoption agencies provide to the first families? Who do the first mothers turn to when they desperately miss their children, or want to know if they are alive?

We are missing so much in adoption. So much.

Families are supposed to send updates to Ethiopia. Some do, some don’t. There’s a lot of anger and mistrust, among families, agencies, government workers. My sense is, in any case, that most reports don’t get to the people who most deserve them: the first families. The mothers.

US adoption agencies do gather information about why children are placed for adoption. Increasingly, though, adoptees and adoptive families learn the information is inaccurate, or, worse, horrifically fraudulent. What are the true stories, and will anyone really know what they are?

What about the stories of the first mothers? Who listens to them, and records the family stories, and saves them for their children? Who values those stories?

I’ve begun working on a couple of exciting possibilities to change things.

One project is to create a network–an infrastructure–that delivers, to Ethiopian first parents, reports from US adoptive parents about their Ethiopian children. The reports would be in the Ethiopian parents’ language, and would be read to them if they are illiterate. Yes, photos too.

Another project is to work with Ethiopian first mothers, and preserve their personal histories. What a huge honor that would be. I belong to the Association of Personal Historians, and last month presented a workshop “Rebuilding Personal Histories” at the annual conference about personal histories for adoptees and others separated from their original family history. I’ve since talked with a few folks about doing this work with Ethiopian first mothers. Would that not be amazing?

So, I ask you to accompany me on this journey, in any way you can. Feel free to post here, or to email me at Maureen@LightOfDayStories.com.

IMG_0150

The photo is my Ethiopian daughter reuniting with her Ethiopian mother. Aselefech wrote about this journey here: “Far Away, Always in My Heart.”

No mother should suffer not knowing what happened to her child. We can change this.