National Adoption Month is upon us, and the usual rhetoric of the joyous miracle of "forever families" and the wounds and angst of "flip the script" from adult adoptees are flooding social media. As with much of the current social and political landscape, passionate -- even sometimes vehement -- voices take their stand and refuse to acknowledge that people who see things differently than themselves have an IQ over 60, or valid lived experiences that may differ from their own. Adoption, too, has sadly become a conversation of "either or" rather than "both and."
Is it true that the overwhelming majority of adoptive parents embrace the challenge because they want a family, have love to give, and are moved to provide a home for a child who needs one? Yes.
Is it also true that, through the years, the good intentions of adoption have been besmirched by corruption, abuse, shame, secrecy, and damaging unintended outcomes? Yes.
So, if both of these things are true, is adoption good or evil? Should it be promoted or discontinued? Is the adoption system a compassionate social service, or a greedy, thinly veiled international gray market child trafficking ring? The "either or" approach is easier than "both and" thinking, because it involves less complex reasoning, less energy, and it's easy to divide the world into us vs. them.
Remember us vs. them? That thing that we played as children starting with "cowboys and Indians" on land or "minnows and whales" in the pool, or bitchy adolescent cliques based on exclusion that constituted the foundation of competitive sports; business; bumper stickers that say "My varsity wrestler can kick your honor student's ass;" politics; racism and other "isms;" and wars? Let me be clear: there are occasional, rare reasons to go to war, and they are real, but most of life does not have to be that way.
It takes maturity and insight to live consistently in the tension and still communicate with grace and kindness toward the "other," while holding firm to your convictions. Some days I do that better than others.
On a related note, because National Adoption Month falls in November, and November means Thanksgiving, and Thanksgiving means pie, I love pie. Cherry pie. Apple pie. Blueberry pie. Pumpkin pie. Pecan pie. French Silk pie. Lemon meringue pie. Chess pie (southerners will know what this is.) When someone asks if I would rather have pumpkin or apple, I usually reply, "Both and, please!"
The following quote is attributed to F. Scott Fitzgerald:
"The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function."
If Fitzgerald is right, then I'm a pie genius.
Pie is also used as a political metaphor in phrases like, "Part of the pie is better than no pie at all." This adage points up the fact that in life, as in politics, the decision about whether or not to take a hard line, "all or nothing now" position on an issue is something we face on a regular basis. Sometimes, it can get you what you want. Sometimes, it can cost you everything, including an important relationship.
In the adoption reform movement, which is focused in large part on restoring access to original birth certificates and adoption records for adult adoptees, the notion that legislation that serves up only part of the pie might be acceptable on the way to gaining the whole pie, has become anathema in some circles. Couched in the idea, which has thus far failed in state and federal courts, that access to original birth certificates should be a fundamental right for adoptees, anyone who deviates from the party line is ostracized, ridiculed, and attacked with social media whisper and smear campaigns -- just like in middle school.
In the other camp, which I refer to as Pragmatists, are those advocates and bill sponsors who often started out with "all or nothing now" bills, but have reluctantly allowed various amendments, or revamped the bill in order to take a step forward. Needless to say, more of the "compromise" bills have been enacted in the past decade than the "all or nothing now" bills. Purists have howled and yelled, "Traitor!" Exhausted advocates in the trenches have replied, "If you think you can do better, come on over and show us how it's done."
The war of words, it seems to me, comes down to a difference in philosophy and approach to the issue. The "all or nothing now" camp asserts that if something is a civil right, it applies to everyone equally with no exceptions. Period. This is very appealing. But it assumes that access to original birth certificates falls into the legal definition of a fundamental civil rig