hidden so deep

about 24 years ago, i was adopted. it's taken me this long to realize that it's a little confusing. it's also taken me this long to realize that i am not white.

Month: July, 2013


Adoption isn’t simple. It’s the most complicated thing I know. Answers are not easy and not firm and don’t answer the questions you’re really asking—or, as the case may be, not asking. Adoptees may wonder about their real birthday, or what it was like where they grew up, or even why they were abandoned (getting closer), but what they are really asking is much more complex than that. I have asked those questions both out loud and in my head my entire life. And underneath those questions are further questions—like how has adoption made me who I am, and who is that, and how would I be different if I knew my birth family?—and underneath those questions are questions I don’t even know how to ask, or know to ask, since the part of me that would know what to look for is a part of me I can’t recover. I am searching for answers, but I am searching for questions. And answers always lead to more questions, at least in my experience. It is complicated. Adoptees need their adoptive parents to know that it is complicated, and to tell them so.

–Matthew Salesses, “What I Would Like to Tell Adoptive Parents (About Answers): A Letter from an Adoptee.”



Today I went to a community discussion about Trayvon Martin. I was silent, I stared at the ground, I waited. I listened as mothers and wives and boyfriends and girlfriends and partners and daughters wept for their son and brother and father, expressed outrage at a system that let his killer go. A woman and poet whom I particularly respect was so moved that even her beautiful words were beginning to falter; she spoke of heartbreak and violence and rage and destruction of the majority.

And I came home and opened my broken wounds and cried. I cried because my racist family killed Trayvon Martin. My childhood friends (and childhood self) let his killer go. My teachers praised the ideology of “self defense” and a “right to bear arms.” I participate and integrate into a society that will remember Trayvon for the next… week or two, tops.  No, it’s not really my uncle, but if you compare the words they are startlingly alike.

when you talked about killing the white people was i one of the white people would you shoot me if you had the chance should you shoot me if you have the chance a police officer will never consider me a perpetrator a police officer will always see me as an educated “yeller” girl a jury will never have a that image of me a jury will never will you shoot me should you will you