But beneath the stack of recommended books were more familiar papers. Report cards from Hempstead Elementary, letters to and from my teachers, construction paper book reports - and newspaper clippings. At some point, this folder had been a catch all from my much younger days. Now, it's a haunting reminder that my status as an adoptee was always prevalent in my life - even before I recognized it.
"Joanna takes an active part in class discussions and participates in activities -
she takes pride in her work, but often looses focus. At times, it
seems that she is not present. We will work with her to redirect
her focus and improve organization. - Higgins, 93"
"Joanna understands concepts and skills taught. She seems to enjoy
reading and has a vivid imagination. She struggles with concentration,
and often seems to be daydreaming. - Folb, 94"
I remember my daydreams from those long days in class. My thoughts were always elsewhere, always with my Mother. Sometimes she was a Princess. Sometimes she was a little girl, like me. I would watch the cars go by and wonder if she was riding in one of them. There was another teacher at the school - a librarian. She had blue eyes, too, and I would pretend that she was my Mother - that she had taken the job at my school to be closer to me.
Beneath the disappointing report cards, my mother had saved clippings from the newspaper. I recognized the format immediately - Dear Ann Landers. I knew the name, but little else. My stomach turned as I realized what these were.
"Dear Ann,
I am saddened every time I read about an adopted person
who is trying to locate a birth mother - even more so
when contact is made and the child is rejected. I offer
this advice to all such persons: Adoption is a binding,
lifetime contract. Biological parents release children
for adoption for valid reasons. The primary one is to
give them a better life than the birth parents can offer.
If one of my two adopted children ever wants to contact
a birth mother, I will offer this advice: She gave you a
life and parents, possibly at great personal sacrifice.
What more could you ask of her? Don't tarnish that
gift by meddling in her private life after all these years.
Respect her and pray for her well being as I do. The
best gift you can give her now is the gift of privacy.
- Thankful in S.C.
Dear S.C.,
Beautiful. Thanks for speaking so eloquently for
those who cannot speak for themselves."
I'm sorry, but who gave her the right to speak for ANYONE but herself? But that's really it, isn't it? She's speaking for herself - thinking of only herself. How can she - or anyone - know what the birthmother wants? And more importantly, though least considered - what about what the child wants? If I had been brave enough to talk to my mother about searching and she had responded the way this woman suggests, I would be heartbroken. Thanks, Ann, but I can very well speak for myself, thank you - and this is a far cry from what I'm saying.
"Dear Ann Landers,
My older sister bore a son out of wedlock, left
instructions that he be put up for adoption, and then
jumped off a bridge. I followed her instructions and
gave "Barry" to a childless family I knew would love
him and raise him well. The understanding was that
our family would cut all ties with the child and never
let him know of his history. This was my sister's last
wish.
My worst fears were realized when I received a
letter from Barry, now age 18. It seems that he dug
around and found out his birth mother's hometown.
He then went there, began asking questions, and
located some distant cousins. They took him all over
and even introduced him to one of his mother's
high school teachers. He hounded me with
phone calls, insisting that I must know who his
father is.
Finally I told Barry to leave me alone and that he
had gone against his the wishes of his mother's
family by digging into the past.
Ann, keep telling adopted persons to be grateful
for what they have and not to poke around looking
for their "real family". They of course are hoping
that the family they dig up will be rich and beautiful,
eager to open their hearts and their homes to them.
That is what happens when you watch too much TV.
- No Name, No State,
and Mailed While On Vacation
Dear No Name, No State,
Your letter underscores the message I've been trying
to get across for years - such family reunions are
very painful. Thanks for saying it far better
than I could.
Yes. Yes, that's exactly it. The gaps in my family tree don't matter. My medical history doesn't matter. My story - my origins - don't matter. The hole in my soul doesn't matter. I just really wanted my Mother to be rich and beautiful. That's my main concern.
I don't know what I am more upset about - these idiots raising adopted children with their own twisted, bizarre agendas, the fact that these responses were read by hundreds of thousands and accepted as normal and true and valid - or the fact that this is what my mother was clinging to. Part of me is heartbroken for her. I can imagine her feverishly clipping each adoption-related correspondence out of the papers and stashing them away. I wonder if they brought her comfort. I wonder if she would read them over and over and tell herself that everything was fine - that these "experts" had it right - that she had it right.
But then I imagine six year old Joanna finding these, reading them, and feeling guilty for her daydreams. I imagine her asking questions about her Mother, and being told not to think about those people because they gave her away - and she has no right to meddle. I imagine her tucking herself away, closing herself in her closet where she hides, and trying desperately not to think of Her, because she should be grateful that she was chosen.
This has to stop.
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