Child Catchers and One (Surprising) Christian Response

There is a maelstrom occurring in the world of adoption just now. One bit of thunder is the debate in churches and across the Internet about orphans, widows, Jesus, and Kathryn Joyce’s new book Child Catchers: Rescue Trafficking, and the New Gospel of Adoption. 

I understand if evangelical Christians feel defensive while reading Child Catchers. The picture painted is difficult to view.

Caleb David is the co-founder of the One Child Campaign, whose mission is “to raise awareness in the body of Christ for the orphan crisis and to provide ways for each person to touch and change the life of at least one child through Orphan awareness trips and other holistic methods.” There’s a photo of a sad, big-eyed child of color on the web site. Caleb is also the adoptive father of two children from Ethiopia–and a friend of Kathryn Joyce.

Caleb was a recent guest writer on the Kingdom in the Midst (Christian–“living in and looking for the kingdom of God”) blog. His perspective may surprise you.

One quote (and please read the whole post): “…friends, there ARE major problems with how we view adoption, orphan care, and poverty. Just being an adoptive family does not make us experts on the complex socio-economic issues of our children’s birth countries.”

As much as it is stirring lots up, Child Catchers might also spread patriarchal leanings, white privilege, sincere efforts, hidden cash, facts and lies, tragic stories, and viable possibilities out on the lawn for us to pick through in sunshine. There’s a big mess to deal with, but I am hopeful the time has arrived for us to look carefully at motivations behind adoption, and the realities that occur as a result–and especially what we can do to repair the damage and prevent future destruction. Deep breaths and deep listening go a long way sometimes.

Melanie Chung Sherman on “Stuck”

Melanie Chung Sherman is a gracious, insightful therapist specializing in adoption in the Dallas-Fort worth area. She is a Korean adoptee. Melanie and I met years ago and I continue to admire her thoughtful approach to children, therapy, life. Here are her thoughts about the movie “Stuck.” She wrote this review on Facebook last night and I am posting it here with her permission.

  • Last post for tonight because I am wide awake. Writing while this is still fresh. So, I viewed “Stuck” for the first time today. For what it is worth, I have been avoiding this film for several reasons that I will not go into here. It was everything I was expected–a lot of one-sided propaganda and not incredible substance on a very complex system. Flashy pictures of sad faces in abject poverty—all were children of color (some who looked like me, my brother, and friends at one point) and all of those who bring hope were White Americans—no one intervening looked like these children, represented their birth culture, or their birth families–some might not have been legal “orphans”. . .really?? How marginalizing. I felt alone in the theatre—and failed to see the humor in the collective mockery of social workers, the DOS, best practices, ethics, and the safeguards (like background checks!) that was supposed to be funny. It was not. It failed to offer solution-based focus on the complex issues that bring children into care in the first place—and perpetuated the overwhelming rescue mentality that continues to pervade adoption communities today. The scapegoating and incredulous demonization of the U.S. State Department, in particular Amb. Susan Jacobs, whom I have had the privilege of meeting (and find warm, friendly, and dedicated to child welfare issues). . .hmmm, Juntenen had an opportunity to dialogue with Jacobs and her team today (all of whom have committed their lives to serving children here and abroad). .as far as I know that did not happen. The film blasted The Hague, but none of the countries highlighted were Hague Convention countries —the countries that were featured were for a reason. The film minimizes our children’s narrative, the importance of universal accountability, and the complexities in adoption as if the ends justify the means. It does not. It never should. I felt stuck—and not in a positive way.
          I should clarify that I was impressed to see an African-American adoptive parent featured. My review is not meant to diminish the emotions expressed by the adoptive parents in the film, but the myopic perspective by the filmakers needed to be expanded. The Hague is not a panacea, but I disagree that it has not helped. I remember quite vividly what was happening prior to the ratification–and is still happening. Thus, the reason for universal accreditation.
  • Here’s (slightly edited) information from LinkedIn about Melanie:
  • Melanie Chung Sherman has worked in child welfare-specifically adoption and foster care spanning international adoption, private/domestic adoption, kinship adoption, DFPS (CPS) foster care and matched-adoption for nearly 13 years.

    In providing therapeutic counseling, I use adoption-centered understanding and awareness that is oftentimes misuderstood or overlooked in the therapeutic process. I am very sensitive to the unique dynamics that adoption brings after placement. Adoption can bring about unique issues that can impact an individual and family long after placement–and when these are addressed in a healthy, sensitive manner,  tremendous healing, support and guidance an occur. I provide therapeutic counseling to all members of the adoption triad (adoptees, adoptive families and first families).

Save the Date: Angela and Aselefech Talk Together!

On Saturday, June 1, at 10am pdt (1pm edt), I will be hosting an on-line live discussion with Angela Tucker and Aselefech Evans.

Angela’s story is featured in the new, highly-acclaimed documentary Closure, about her adoption as an African-American baby from Chattanooga, Tennessee, to white parents in Bellingham, Washington, and her search and reunion as a young adult with her birth family.

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Aselefech is an Ethiopian adoptee, who arrived in the US in 1994 at age 6 with her twin sister. She has also searched and reunited with her birth family in Ethiopia, as well as in Seattle. She has presented workshops and webinars about her story, about transracial adoption, about hair care, and more. Full disclosure: Aselefech is also my daughter. She was recently invited to be a columnist for the soon-to-be-launched magazine of Land of Gazillion Adoptees.

Aselefech with her brother (reunited in 2009) and her daughter. Photo: December 2012

Aselefech with her brother (reunited in 2009) and her daughter. Photo: December 2012

As transracial adoptees, they have much in common. As a US infant adoptee and as an older child international adoptee, they have different experiences. Both are wonderful, thoughtful, amazing young women, and their stories are compelling.

I’ll post more details later about how to watch and participate. Meanwhile, please save the date!

Heritage and Culture Camps: Why Do They Matter?

Did heritage and culture camps even exist before international adoption? I don’t know. They are among the many cottage industries that have grown up as a result of adoptive parents’ and adoption agencies’ quest to provide connections for internationally (often transracially) adopted children with their cultures of origins.

My best guess is that most heritage/culture camps were established about 20 years ago, as Korean adopted adults began to be heard about the lack of connection they felt to their Korean culture, growing up as many did in rural farmlands in Minnesota and elsewhere. (Many, in fact, considered themselves white or wanted to be white while growing up. Their awakenings in college and in adult life were difficult, as racism and other factors challenged or undermined their sense of identity.)

When you adopt internationally, you remove a child from his or her culture and country of origin, and you take on a daunting responsibility. Heritage camps can never take the place of one’s heritage. That said, there are quite a few positives about the camps.

One is surely the opportunity for an adopted child or teenager to be surrounded by other kids like them. Not having to explain about being adopted, or about why they look different from their parents–it’s a relief to be among others who understand.

Another is the chance to meet older adoptees, who often are mentors and role models for young children in ways that adoptive parents simply can’t be. That’s a great gift.

The camps aren’t just for the adoptees and parents in many cases. Siblings often attend, who may or may not have been adopted. This gives them a chance to learn about and have fun while learning about their brother or sister’s culture. Lots of potential for conversations, and maybe deeper understanding.

Another positive about camps is the opportunity to interact easily with people from the child’s country of origin. In an ideal world, adoptive parents would have lots of friends and role models available for their children, friends and role models from the child’s country of origin. There’s a big spectrum: some parents are the same ethnicity and/or race as their child, sometimes the child is only one of her race/ethnicity for miles around, sometimes parents reach out to strangers, in the grocery store or at church, who might be from the child’s country of origin.

At the heritage camps, there are frequently people from the country of origin, people who are there because they want to be, because they want to share their culture with adoptive parents and especially with adopted children. Strong, long-lasting friendships are often formed this way, that otherwise might never have happened.

The camps are also a bit of an idyll in terms of the harsher realities of identity formation. Idylls can be good, but other possibilities exist too. The Evan B. Donald Institute on Adoption published a thoughtful study called “Beyond Culture Camp: Promoting Healthy Identity in Adoption.” It’s a great resource for adoptive parents.

This August, my daughter Aselefech and I will be among the speakers at the Ethiopian  camp held in Virginia. Unlike many camps, this one reaches out to all families of Ethiopian-American children, not just adoptive families. Aselefech and I spoke there together in 2009, and really enjoyed meeting the many families who are connected to Ethiopia by birth, adoption, or both. This year, we will be talking about the journey of search and reunion, in Ethiopia and Seattle.

Adoptive parents of internationally adopted children have themselves founded camps, which are now available for many heritages (Vietnamese, Chinese, Filipino, Indian/Nepalese, Russian/Eastern European, Ethiopian, Caribbean, etc.). Some adoption agencies also hold camps. Here is one list from Adoptive Families magazine.

Adoptees Talk: A Podcast

Anyone who’s followed me for a while knows that I always try to acknowledge and include the voices of adult adoptees. We adoptive parents have so much to learn from them.

Many of you have probably seen or heard of the documentary Somewhere Between, about Chinese adoptees and their search journeys and decisions. One of the young women, Jenni Fang Lee, recently spoke with Kevin Haebeom Vollmers, a Korean adoptee, via podcast on Land of Gazillion Adoptees.

Enjoy the podcast here.

As Kevin says: the conversation topics include racism, the film Stuck, traveling to China, and building relationships between adoptees of different backgrounds.  Important stuff.

Citizenship Isn’t Automatic for Internationally Adopted Children to the US? Really?

Children can be brought to the United States by US citizens for purposes of adoption, and the US government (who has to approve all these adoptions) does not provide automatic citizenship to thousands, past and present.

Adult adoptees have been deported. Others are in line to be deported.  Some have committed a crime inadvertently by voting. They have been denied scholarships and lost jobs due to the inability to pass background checks/prove US citizenship.

Citizenship prior to February 2001 was not automatic. And that is a huge injustice to these children (many of whom are now adults), an undermining of the integrity of adoption, and a slap in the face to adoptees.

How did this happen? Adoptive parents failed to follow through on citizenship. Adoption agencies did not impress families sufficiently about why proof of citizenship matters. People got bad legal advice.

Whatever the reason, the bottom line remains: the US government does not provide automatic citizenship to thousands of children brought here legally for purposes of international adoption.

Some sobering statistics: Between 1999 and 2011, approximately 220,000 children arrived to the US from other countries to be adopted. Of those, about 157,000 arrived on IR-3 visas, and about 65,000 on IR-4 visas.

That’s 65,000 internationally adopted children who do not have automatic citizenship, and that’s only since 1999.

Of the 65,000 above, who arrived here on an IR-4 visa, about 40% are from two of the main countries of origin for adopted children. About 8,600 came from Ethiopia and over 18,000 from South Korea. South Korea has been sending children to the US for 50 years: hundreds of thousands of children.

Adoptive parents: If your child came here on an IR-4 visa, s/he must be readopted before s/he turns 18. US citizenship is not automatically granted to them.

If your child came here on an IR-3, after the Child Citizenship Act of 2000, protect that Certificate of Citizenship. It’s incredibly important and valuable, and not to be taken for granted at all.

Hold on carefully and protectively to all adoption-related documents.

The Child Citizenship Act of 2000 provides US citizenship to children who arrive here in the US with IR-3 visas after February 2001, with various paperwork and fees. Children who arrive here (as international adoptees) on an IR-4 visa have different hoops to go through. Information is available here. I wrote about this in additional detail here.

Adoptive Parents: Lessons Learned

Only about a month remains for the submission of essays for the anthology Lessons Learned: Adoptive Parents Speak Out About Adoption.

We’ve had some great essays submitted so far. We welcome more, especially from adoptive dads, adoptive parents of color, LGBT adoptive parents. All adoptive parents can submit an essay, with the caveat that their children must be over 18 and must have given their permission about the essay.

Those restrictions were deliberate on my part, as well as that of the publisher CQT Media and Publishing, and partner Land of Gazillion Adoptees. CQT and LGA brought us the amazing, insightful, and ground-breaking Parenting As Adoptees.

Folks who’ve parented a child (from birth or later) through adolescence and into young adulthood have a different perspective and experience than those with young children. We wanted that longer-term view for this book. We want it to be thoughtful, challenging, intentional, and real. Lessons Learned will be published later this year. Please help spread the word, and send those essays in!

Of Search, Heartache, and Connection

“There is a candle in your heart, ready to be kindled.
There is a void in your soul, ready to be filled.
You feel it, don’t you?”
― Rumi

With my four children, two sons adopted as babies in the US and twin daughters adopted at 6 from Ethiopia, I felt the decision to search for first/birth family was theirs, and that it would be best to do so when they were at least 18. They are all in their 20’s now. Searching (and re-uniting) is a big, complicated, emotional, intricate process. My view as a parent was that this was their decision, their story, their information. Their dad and I also always let them know we would help and support them in their decision.

While they were growing up, the kids and I had lots of conversations about their first families. I offered to give them all the information, when I felt they were ready, that we had from the adoption process. I shared different information at different ages. They looked at it, or not. Over the years, they kept copies in their rooms, occasionally asked questions, talked to each other a little about their information, asked questions, went to basketball practice, came to me with heartbreaking insights, and asked more questions.

I believe rituals are important, especially in adoption. At Thanksgiving, we would sometimes all light candles before dinner to honor the people who were not with us that day.  I would say something about my children’s birth/first families. Over the years, their reactions might be eye-rolling, indifference, a slight tearing up, a slight smile.

Each of my kids had different levels of comfort and curiosity about searching, at different times in their lives, and that’s still very true today.

My daughter Aselefech, once she had been here long enough to speak sufficient English to understand what Mother’s Day meant, would weep deeply that day. She would talk through tears about how very much she missed her Ethiopian mother, and how deep the pain was of forgetting what her mother looked like.

I knew she and her mother had to have been very close, because of how much Aselefech loved me. Oh, my heart ached so for my daughter and for her mother. My daughter and I cried together.

And, not surprisingly, Aselefech has been the most proactive about searching and connecting with her Ethiopian family. She and her twin sister now know their Ethiopian family in Ethiopia, and here in Seattle,  as it turns out, where I live.

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They re-connected about 4 years ago. We all got together most recently last week here in Seattle for dinner. This photo shows Aselefech with her brother, and with her daughter/his niece (my brilliant, amazing granddaughter) who is the same age Aselefech was when she arrived in the United States some 18 years ago. There is to me an incredible light in everyone’s eyes here–a connection always, a void filled, a candle lit.

All They Will Call You Will Be Deportees

The thing is: you’re adoptees.

You were brought to the United States from another country to become the adopted child of US citizens. And now you’re an adult, raised in America.  You speak only English. You went to school here and worked here. You know only your American family and friends.

The State Department website tells adoptive parents:

“It is important to ensure that your adopted child becomes a U.S. citizen. If you postpone documenting or obtaining your child’s citizenship, later he or she may have difficulty getting college scholarships, working legally, voting, and enjoying other rights and privileges.”

But wait: there’s more. Adoptees can be deported.

For all its rhetoric and posturing across the political spectrum about the value of adoption, the US Congress has failed miserably in supporting internationally adopted children.

Let’s review here: A child arrives in the US from Korea, India, Brazil, or another far off place with a different language, culture, food, music, customs, holidays, history. The child is adopted by US citizens. So of course the child automatically becomes a US citizen too, right?

Nope. Certainly not if he or she had the poor timing to be adopted prior to 2000, when the Child Citizenship Act became law. That law, which I (along with many other people) worked on and supported, means that (most) internationally adopted children can automatically become US citizens, if they arrived after February 27, 2001. There is still paperwork involved, of course.

Children arriving on IR-4 visas before or after the CCA must follow a different route, and that’s significant. But citizenship is achievable.

For those thousands and thousands of adoptees who arrived here before the CCA, the process was not so streamlined or automatic. Some parents failed to get their kids US citizenship. Some adoption agencies could have done a better job providing information about the value of citizenship. (And this is still an issue now for those IR-4 visas.)

It was a huge oversight.

An immigration law passed by Congress in 1996 had among its many clauses the possibility of deportation for non-US citizens who commit a felony, including non-violent crimes. There have been adoptees who have committed felonies. I’m not condoning the commission of crimes.

But these adoptees were brought to the US for purposes of adoption by US citizens. They most likely thought they were citizens–seems reasonable. And now, after being raised in America, after serving their sentences, they can be deported to their country of origin–where often they know no one, don’t speak the language, have little chance of getting work, and can never return to the United States.

This has already happened to several adoptees.  One died at 26 after being sent back to Brazil, having been raised in Ohio from the age of 8, after a first time marijuana conviction. The plight of others has prompted petitions. Russell Green was the subject of at least one. The most recent in the news was Kairi Shepherd, and there are many more pending. Many folks, especially adult adoptees, have been working very hard to fix this absurd situation. The Adoption Policy and Reform Collaborative has been among the leaders in this movement.

We don’t deport US citizens who have committed crimes, even if we’d like to. Deporting the internationally adopted children of US citizens is an insult to the integrity of adoption and to the reality of adoptive families.

Congress has been (astonishingly? unsurprisingly? shamefully?) slow to rectify this. Consider contacting the Congressional Coalition on Adoption Institute and your Senator and Representative. Ask them to move on legislation that is fair, humane, and overdue: US citizenship for internationally adopted children, regardless of when they arrived.

A nod to Woody Guthrie for the title of this blog  post.

Getting Un-Stuck: Adoption Alternatives

I wrote about Stuck last week, the documentary about the need to increase intercountry adoption. I have mixed feelings about publicizing it further.  However, as an adoptive parent, I feel compelled to speak out against it. I’m not against adoption–I’m against creating a culture of adoption. We can do so much better than that, and help so many more children, without adopting them.

“Stuck” has done well in gaining momentum and attention: heartwarming stories about orphans have long been popular.

The problem is that the stories are often not true.

First, as in this example about Cambodia, many “orphans” involved in international adoption are not in fact orphans.  Another example is Haiti. Many children in Russian orphanages are not orphans.

Children around the globe who are called orphans by adoption agencies in fact have family (or village or community) members who could care for them, and keep them in their country of origin, with their language, culture, history, culture–and maybe even family.

Second, adoption is only one alternative, though it’s the one that evokes a warm response (or desire to rescue) and fuels the marketing fire of Both Ends Burning. There’s a much bigger picture here, if we let the smoke clear.

Many children could stay in their home country if aid or training were available to alleviate the crush of Third World poverty. The amount of money to keep children with their families is dramatically less than international adoption fees, which range from $20,000 to $50,000–to adopt ONE child.  Imagine if even 10% of that went to training or a kickstart small business micro loan. Many more children and families would be helped.

Slowly, more programs are emerging to address this, and also to “re-settle” children with family members. One example is here, in Uganda. Mark and Keren Riley are doing amazing things there, perhaps most importantly creating a model that can be replicated by other countries.

Another viable alternative is sponsorship programs, which would allow (many more) children to stay with their families.

All of this requires a re-framing of thinking about adoption and child welfare services, especially by adoptive parents. We may be in the best position to advocate for fewer children to be adopted. This is not because we don’t love our children. I love my children more than I can say. It’s because we adoptive parents are in a unique and powerful position to argue for family preservation first, for children to be raised in their family of origin whenever possible. If you value family, it’s the only position you can take.