by JeanWidner | Jun 28, 2023 | Adoptee Stories
Within the sub-culture of adoption, few theories are as celebrated and simultaneously controversial as “The Primal Wound”. The book with the same name, written by Nancy Verrier in 1993, calls out the idea that separating an infant from its mother is always inherently traumatizing.
Adopted people flocked to the book, many crying out, “finally someone understands how I’ve always felt.” Others have called it dangerous because they say it creates generalized views that all adoptees are “damaged” and perpetuates negative stereotypes. Adoptive or would-be adoptive parents have called the book and the theory “terrifying” because they feel it sets up a scenario for failure from the beginning.
One huge issue for many adoptees is that the debate in and of itself is yet one more way others dictate to them about how they should feel about their adopted lives – especially when many wish to see simplistic descriptions of what are far more complex and nuanced experiences.
What is the primal wound theory?
The premise is that all newborns come into the world with already deep and knowing bonds biologically and psychologically formed with their mother in utero. Babies in the womb hear and know their mother’s voice and those around them. They become accustomed to the smells and cuisine of the mother as it is their sole source of food and sustenance. It has also been theorized that seeping through the amniotic fluid are hormonal messages conveying the mother’s emotional state around the pregnancy.
In return, the baby is sending stem cells into the mother’s blood stream throughout pregnancy, causing the mother to instinctively react to the minute changes and movements of her unborn child. Therefore, within the first moments of birth a known, tangible bond exists between this new life and its mother.
As infants, all humans are completely dependent upon those around them. So, when that infant is then passed over to a “new mother” for care and feeding, on a deep level that baby knows it is not with the same mother. Intricately woven into that bond is also the idea the mother will automatically seek her baby and work hard to obtain him or her over any other.
But then, what does the subconscious mind of that infant register when the mother it knows does not appear no matter what it does? That is one of the many questions raised by the theory – what is the unconscious reaction to this perceived abandonment?
This is the root of the primal wound trauma. The natural mother is made bereft by an adoption, and the infant has also experienced a profound loss. Since an infant cannot clearly express itself, what it feels or thinks, is unknown.
Critics of The Primal Wound
Adoptees are not all in agreement everyone has vast and deep wounds of separation. Some clearly bond with the message while others reject it whole-heartedly. That debate divides the community, creating a rift in philosophy and varied views on adoption. Those who believe the “wound” theory will dismiss those who do not saying they are in denial. This same bias has the potential to influence and affect the validity of any serious study of the concept.
Some professionals dismiss the premise entirely. Dr. Charles Nelson is a Professor of Pediatrics at Harvard Medical School and a leading expert on how early childhood neglect, abuse, and other negative parental environments affect children. He said in an interview in 2013, “there is no scientific evidence to support the primal wound theory that all adopted people carry a scar from being separated from biological parents.”[1]
He states countless people who have been adopted especially in the first two years, but even beyond, are doing great, and “a theory that says just because they were separated from their birthmother leaves a permanent wound is just false on the face of it.”[2]
Dr. Ellen Kempt, Ph.D., who has forty-three years’ experience in pediatrics and is the former director of the Oak Adoptive Health Center, says, “I disagree with the thought of a “wound.” To me it’s an opportunity. I mean, adoption is a choice and desire, they (adoptive children) spent nine months in the middle of the environment of a birth mom who gave them love and nourishment. But the next step is a forever adoptive home. So, I just don’t at all see it as a wound.”[3]
Clarity is needed around the very word “wound” itself. The trauma that Verrier is getting at is the trauma an infant may feel by being relinquished, which is different from calling adoption a traumatic event.
At issue also in this debate is the difference between clinical evidence and scientific evidence to verify an idea or premise.
Clinical evidence is defined as a psychologist or other mental health professional making broader observations about the patients he or she is working with and forms a basis of opinion from that work. This is highly suggestive because of personal bias and the types of patients that a clinician is attracting to their practice. In other words, those in the adopted population who define themselves as happy, well-adjusted people are unlikely to seek clinical intervention, and by that selection become a “silent majority”.
Scientific evidence sets a higher bar as a variety of independent studies are created to evaluate behavior and assess root causes in an impartial review of a wider cross-section of individuals for study.
Many believe that because Verrier’s research for the book is based in part on her own experience along with largely clinical evaluation, that this alone leaves the premise suspect.
Another critic of her work is Dr. Michael Grand, author of the book The Adoption Constellation (with Jeanette Yoffe). He criticizes not the premise itself so much as the solution she proposes. He says, “[The Primal Wound] captures for some adoptees the experience of pain and grief and loss that so many others have denied to them and in that sense, it’s a very important and moving book. I was moved as I read it.”[4]
He points out that the notion of attachment upon which the idea is based means the child who is adopted experiences that loss of the first parent, and then always carries that forward to the new parent. Verrier’s assessment that the pain of separation can then potentially (or always) be solved by reunion. But reunion is not always helpful for either party. He further states that “The research shows clearly that the relationship between one’s early experience and the predictability of later behavior, that the relationship is weak (it’s not a strong relationship).”[5]
Also of concern is the conclusion many draw from the book is that it creates a “victim” mentality for adopted children. There is a significant difference between feeling you were victimized by something that happened to you, versus being a victim taken on as a personal identity.
How significant the primal wound trauma may be and the extent of its impact, the validity of its existence, and how universal that may be, is what fires up such a vast debate – even by people who have read and appreciate Verrier’s work.
Supporting Research
What is interesting is when one seeks independent research about the primal wound premise, the study leads one into biology and natural science explorations rather than psychology. Significant research has been done on maternal and infant separation on mammals ranging from mice to monkeys.
Many studies have been done on rodents, showing early life stressors including maternal separation “affect both acute and long-term development of neuroendocrine, cognitive, and behavioral systems”[6] In studies on rats it has been shown that separating the pups from their mothers, even when receiving feeding and care from other rat “mothers”, behavior changes are observed similar to anxiety or depression. Prolonged separation appears to increase these results when compared to the control group, (not separated pups). Even as adults, the maternally separated rats displayed abnormal behaviors, particularly in lowered food consumption and an increased startle response, indicating anxiety.[7]
Other models with rhesus monkeys show when separated from their mothers within the first six months of life, these subjects “demonstrate increased distress and passive behaviors” compared to their peers who were maternally raised. The monkeys also have increased cortisol (stress hormone) and display “diminished ability to handle stressful events and exhibit numerous exaggerated behaviors” compared to those raised by their mothers.[8]
Another study on rodents does show differences in these responses based upon the gender of the animal. In general, maternal separation appeared to affect the female rats more than the male rats when exposed to the same types of traumatic stress. Both male and female rats, however, were more likely to develop post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) as adults if they have experienced early life stressors. [9]
One article produced in Australia regarding newborns to two years of age, says trauma of all sorts can have a “serious effect on babies and toddlers”, and that, “many people wrongly believe that babies do not notice or remember traumatic events. In fact, anything that affects older children and adults in a family can also affect a baby, but they may not be able to show their reactions.”[10]
The article also notes regardless of the cause of the separation, the infant will not only register the loss of that parent, but the infant is also coping with their situation. The stressors induced by having to manage that within a baby whose mind and nervous system is not capable of understand what is happening, is in and of itself, potentially damaging. Furthermore, this trauma can make its ability to bond with its parental caregivers more challenging.[11]
In comparing the mental health of adopted adults with the general population, clearly something is amiss. Adoptees are four times more likely than the general population to attempt or commit suicide.[12] Beyond general feelings of unhappiness or depression, identity disorders are also nearly four times more common in adopted adults compared to non-adoptees.[13] According to a survey of adult adoptees done in 2019, “With the large percentage of adults in this study who reported dissociative experiences, it appears that dissociation may be a coping mechanism which is well established by the time an adult client seeks treatment.“[14]
The debate continues around the number of studies done and the credibility of the methods, but most of the study done to date certainly at least implies that adopted children and adults are experiencing more difficulties than their non-adopted counterparts.
The Way Forward
Assume for a minute Verrier’s work is correct and accept the notion that any infant separated from its natural mother will know, and its forming subconscious mind registers this as a traumatic event. Also assume this can impact the infant’s ability to bond with its new adopting parents.
What now? In the work shared by Michael Grand, Ph.D., he points out while being adopted is certainly pivotal in the developing psyche of a child, is it the sole factor? Almost all children have pains, struggles, and events that will affect them in their growth and development. In other words – adoption is certainly not nothing, but it may not be everything, either, in the psychological formation of that human being.
Plenty of children struggle to bond with distant or emotionally unhealthy biological parents, act out in school, have huge struggles through the hormonal barrage of their teen years, and feel unheard, unloved, and unseen by their families. Sadly, many people desperately lack emotional connections with those around them.
However, those “looking in” at adoption often fail to understand this population for whom is denied a blood, familial or close connection – they are the only group told how “grateful” they should feel for their situation. Imagine being told someone should feel lucky for their loss, their trauma, or even their abuse? It is this frustration at not being validated for their feelings, that has so many adopted people later in life rising up with the need to shout, rather than continue to whisper their pain.
Maybe the truth lies somewhere else. The scientific debate around the concept may never be agreed upon. Even researchers who have done the above-mentioned work on primates cite that to conduct the same research on human infants would be too cruel.
With that acceptance, maybe the way to look at the primal wound is less literal, and the profundity of Verrier’s prose lies elsewhere. For those who keenly feel the premise explains their thoughts, what if the power is in asking adoptees to “lean in” to the psychological pain they feel rather than hide from it? If large numbers of adopted adults have rallied around the book and its ideas, then they should not be dismissed. Many adoptees state that when they were young there was no language that matched their experience. Then as adults, they seek to define their feelings in clearer terms, there are still no words. Verrier’s book gives them those tools.
If one accepts that philosophy, then psychologists and parents who completely dismiss the primal wound, do so at the peril and well-being of their children. If those surrounding adoptees are open to more insightful ways to help them hear and respond to these children, then, more the better.
Language has always evolved around updated needs of expression, and if the book has done nothing else, it has brought a completely new verbiage that carries significant value to the foreground of the adoption conversation. What has been buried and undefined is now visible at the surface – ready to be healed.
Which then begs the question, does healing exist for those who need it – and how is that achieved?
As Dr. Marcy Axness, PhD writes, “There are those who consider the primal wound to be a platform for adult adoptees to do yet more blaming and complaining, rather than ‘getting on with their lives’…But only having walked into that emptiness inside me, and felt it – finally, deeply – and grieved it. This in my hard-won experience, is what effective healing is about: not ‘fixing’ it, but facing it.”[15]
When talking to Sharon McNamara, Ed.D., L.P., adoptee, and adoption competent therapist, she shares, “You’ve got these kids, the relinquishment trauma is primary. Then you’ve got other trauma on top of that. And then the acting out… I do the grief work of this really, really, horrible thing that happened when you were a baby, and you have feelings about that. Let’s touch those feelings and let you cry. You need a compassionate therapist who is capable of hearing that level of pain.”
Regardless of the primal wound discussion, themes emerge around healing that are consistent. There are also common strategies parents can follow to help infants who become children, then teens, and finally adults to process these emotions more successfully. They revolve around love, openness, respect, forming a positive narrative with the child and most importantly letting them tell the adults in their lives how they feel, instead of the other way around. That they matter just for being themselves.
A parent may say, “I love you as if you were my own.” What the adopted child thinks is, “Why am I not your own?” Dissolving that barrier is not easy, but essential to help them feel safe – and it’s a concept that will have to be reinforced continuously.
Amy D. Alessandro, LMHC, adoptee, birth mother, and adoption & trauma therapist says, “Can the trauma of infant separation be healed? I wouldn’t do this work if I didn’t believe that was possible.” Her practice, Adoption Savvy, specializing in almost all facets of adoption competent therapies, says, “Will they be as if they had never had adoption trauma? To me, it’s like if your arm was severed in a terrible accident, could you still live a fulfilling life? Yes. You wouldn’t live the same life if you had both of your limbs. You would have to adapt. It’s going to look different, but you can have a happy functioning life. We can get there, but it is hard work.”
Some may cringe at this analogy, but anyone who has experienced some life-altering event will say they are forever changed by it. They carry it with them and must learn to thrive either because of, or despite, it. The world needs to understand that regardless of how one views adoption – lives are forever changed by it – sometimes for the good, but often with a mix of darkness within. Adoption is paradoxical, always.
There is another worthy lore that might be useful. Within the Alcoholics Anonymous Twelve-Step teachings, when trying to cover vast ideas that will apply to some, or many, but not all, there is a phrase, “Take what you want and leave the rest.” Maybe this outlook has some value as applied to the adoption community and these discussions with so much generalized opinion around so many individual lived experiences. A theory or explanation can fit part of one’s life, and not others – let that be OK for one another in the community.
No one should have the language of the primal wound thrust upon them, most especially as children who may have trouble reconciling its depth, and then pre-disposing them to the bias of being “victims” or “damaged goods.”
What it comes down to for many is to give emotional space. Children deserve to speak their minds and express their feelings in productive ways that do not revolve around a narrative, or what their parents or society expects of them. That includes their feelings about being or looking different, or not fitting in, and curiosity about a first family or another mother.
Adoptees all process their experience differently. Their views are as vast as the stars. Moreover, that will likely change throughout their lives as they age, possibly become parents themselves and pass key milestones that cause them to re-evaluate their feelings about being adopted. It is a lifelong journey for most.
What they are fighting for, more loudly and clearly than ever, is the right to define their own experience. In so doing, it is worth noting that dismissing any individual’s point of view for not fitting a narrative, whether an old one or a new one, is harmful to the larger cause – to be heard, valued, and understood.
[1] Davenport, D. (2021, April 26). Does the primal wound really exist?. Creating a Family. https://creatingafamily.org/adoption-category/does-primal-wound-really-exist/
[2] Davenport, D. (2021, April 26). Does the primal wound really exist?. Creating a Family. https://creatingafamily.org/adoption-category/does-primal-wound-really-exist/
[3] YouTube. (2012, February 8). Can an adoptee ever overcome his or her “Primal wound?” YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vLcH4wT2nKQ
[4] YouTube. (2020, November 5). Primal wound new theory with Michael Grand author of adoption constellation | Jeanette Yoffe. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZgsbk17UQw&t=80s
[5] YouTube. (2020, November 5). Primal wound new theory with Michael Grand author of adoption constellation | Jeanette Yoffe. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZgsbk17UQw&t=80s
[6] Neurobiological consequences of childhood trauma – the Journal of … (n.d.). https://www.psychiatrist.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/02/15380_neurobiological-consequences-childhood-trauma.pdf
[7] Neurobiological consequences of childhood trauma – the Journal of … (n.d.). https://www.psychiatrist.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/02/15380_neurobiological-consequences-childhood-trauma.pdf
[8] Neurobiological consequences of childhood trauma – the Journal of … (n.d.). https://www.psychiatrist.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/02/15380_neurobiological-consequences-childhood-trauma.pdf
[9] Knox, D., Stout-Oswald, S. A., Tan, M., George, S. A., & Liberzon, I. (2021, November 12). Maternal separation induces sex-specific differences in sensitivity to traumatic stress. Frontiers. https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fnbeh.2021.766505/full
[10] Department of Health & Human Services. (2010, January 27). Trauma and children – newborns to two years. Better Health Channel. https://www.betterhealth.vic.gov.au/health/healthyliving/trauma-and-children-newborns-to-two-years
[11] Department of Health & Human Services. (2010, January 27). Trauma and children – newborns to two years. Better Health Channel. https://www.betterhealth.vic.gov.au/health/healthyliving/trauma-and-children-newborns-to-two-years
[12] Keyes MA, Malone SM, Sharma A, Iacono WG, McGue M. Risk of suicide attempt in adopted and nonadopted offspring. Pediatrics. 2013 Oct;132(4):639-46. doi: 10.1542/peds.2012-3251. Epub 2013 Sep 9. PMID: 24019414; PMCID: PMC3784288
[13] McLamb, Lee J., “A Survey of Dissociation, Identity Distress, and Rejection Sensitivity in Adult Adoptees” (2019). Honors Undergraduate Theses. 606
[14] McLamb, Lee J., “A Survey of Dissociation, Identity Distress, and Rejection Sensitivity in Adult Adoptees” (2019). Honors Undergraduate Theses. 606.
[15] In appreciation of the primal wound – creating a family. (n.d.-a). https://creatingafamily.org/wp-content/uploads/in%20appreciation%20of%20the%20primal%20wound.pdf
by JeanWidner | Jun 21, 2023 | History
This is an excerpt from Chapter 4 of “The Adoption Paradox” on the History of Adoption.
The tales of the atrocities of the U.S. government against Native Americans are lengthy and well-known. There are two key aspects to note when one looks at any policy regarding them. The first is that what the government primarily wanted was their land. The second is that while negotiating for that land, the treaties that were created recognized the tribes and their people as their own sovereign nations.
These facts, along with the absence of slavery, are what sets any discussion on the adoption of Native American children apart from African Americans or other racial minorities. The primary view of most Caucasians, however, was that the savage Indian needed to be culturally subjugated and brought into the superior way of life of Christian values and to adapt to this culture.
The Indian Removal Act of 1830 created the policy in the U.S. to forcibly relocate Native Americans from their tribal lands, sometimes far away from their original homes. Beyond that, it extended to the forcible breakup of individual Native families.
Boarding Schools
In 1881 the government directed the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) that school attendance for Indian children was compulsory, or they would be denied basic treaty rights such as rations or clothing.[1] Most reservations did not contain day schools, so boarding schools needed to be built and opened. Thousands of Native children were taken from their homes and placed into the “Carlisle Indian Industrial Schools”. Fifty of these schools spread rapidly throughout the Midwest and Eastern States. The children were not allowed to communicate in their native language and forced to speak only English, practice the Christian faith, and made them cut their hair and wear only non-tribal clothing. These rules intended to systematically remove their culture and assimilate them into the American one. A man named Henry Pratt founded the boarding schools and had a famous motto, “Kill the Indian, save the man”.[2]
Abuse was rampant in the schools, and a report done in 1928 wrote that children were living in terrible conditions without adequate food, suffered from chronic health conditions, and were without even proper toilet facilities in the overcrowded dormitories. The quality of the education was also questionable, as the attendees worked the first half of the day to support the school.
It is now known due to a recent report commissioned by the U.S. Interior that at least five hundred of those children died in the United States, although one wonders if that number might be falsely low.[3] In Canada, over one thousand unmarked graves were recently discovered with Native children in similar institutions.
In the years between the late 1800s and 1934, when the forced allotment of Indian lands by the U.S. government was formally halted, the Native tribes had collectively gone from having one hundred thirty-eight million acres to only forty-eight million, of which forty percent was desert or semi-desert.[4]
The Indian Adoption Project
The 1950s and 60s ushered in a new era as Indian boarding schools became culturally unpopular, although they continued operating into the early 1970s. Instead, the Indian Adoption Project was born. From 1958 to 1967, the federal government partnered with the Child Welfare League of America to remove Native children from their families and place them with white ones with the continued goal of assimilating them into white, Christian culture.
Remember, this was while “matching” was common in most Caucasian adoptions to hide the obvious clues that an adoption had occurred. But the organizers of this movement didn’t appear to care, as the higher goal of removing all traces of Native identity outweighed all other concerns.
The number of children adopted because of the project is comparatively small relative to the boarding school program and is estimated to be about four hundred overall. However, it is important because it is the first and only federal program designed to promote what was viewed as “transracial” adoption at the time.[5]
It is estimated that ninety percent of these adoptions were into white families, and by 1968 there was more than one tribe that had all of its children placed outside their native homes.
“One little, two little, three little Indians — and 206 more — are brightening the homes and lives of 172 American families, mostly non-Indians, who have taken the Indian waifs as their own.”
~1966 Bureau of Indian Affairs Press Release
What is unknown is the extent to, or how exactly, these children were surrendered in the first place. Unwed young tribal mothers faced the same bias and judgment for their situation as their white counterparts. However, far fewer resources were available to these tribal members living on the reservation. They were poor, and these communities often struggled with basic needs – it was typical that only twenty percent of the homes had indoor plumbing. Social workers and others responsible for the safety of children believed they should be “far from the reservation” where there were more resources for them.
“As sad and as terrible as the conditions are that Indian children must face as they grow up, nothing exceeds the cruelty of being unjustly and unnecessarily removed from their families…Indian children are removed from the custody of their parents or Indian foster family for placement in non-Indian homes without sufficient cause and without due process of law.”
~William Byler, Executive Director of the AAIA, 1968
The Mormon Church
Dating back to their first days in Utah, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints members had a lengthy and complex relationship with Native Americans and their children. The Mormons believed that Indians were lost souls who needed to be saved and converted. Persecuted themselves, Mormons believed they were a religious “tribe of Israel” unto themselves and felt thus entitled – or even the duty – to convert them.
The church was officially against slavery but not indentured servitude. However, when they took Native children or even purchased them to remove them from the harms of slavery, they did raise these children as their own, educating them and indoctrinating them into the LDS beliefs and way of life.
The Navaho Tribal Council objected to the program, which had significantly higher numbers than the Indian Adoption Project. It is estimated that twenty-seven hundred Native children by the 1970s were in foster care with Mormon families – most of whom would come to adulthood with those caregivers. From the LDS point of view, one could argue for the success of the program, as it was estimated in 1981 that roughly twenty percent of the Navaho population was Mormon.[6]
The Indian Child Welfare Act (ICWA)
What had been happening was, in fact, a cultural genocide of Native Americans, carried out by the separation of families from their children, which the federal government and the Bureau of Indian Affairs organized. However, Native peoples and their tribes as separate nations had formal treaties with the federal government that was supposed to protect their rights. Any adoption that took place should have been treated almost as an international adoption. The social workers and adoption agencies were supposed to equally straddle and negotiate fairly with both entities. But that was not what happened.
“Social workers* and missionaries took children without any color of law…there really was no necessary connection between a court order and losing your child – the caseworker just comes and puts the child in her or his car and drives away.”[7]
In the years prior to the ICWA at least twenty-five to thirty-five percent of all Indian children were with adoptive families, foster care, or boarding schools. Eighty-five percent of them were with non-native families, even when suitable and willing relatives were available.
Most states kept no statistics about how many of their children in the foster care system were Indian or from the reservation, and since most of them were placed outside of the legal system entirely, they would have never shown up.
Many tribes throughout the U.S. fought in State courts to try to reunite these families. The American Association of Indian Affairs (AAIA) represented and won all of the dozens of cases where they intervened. “No one on the other side had even tried to act within the law. It was just Indian kids.”[8]
The first draft of the ICWA was written in 1976, and a series of hearings were held before Congress. Organizers struggled to create a coherent and official argument through the labyrinth of barely believable tales of stolen children and the lawlessness that had occurred. “A social worker just walked up to your child and took him….and there was never a dependency hearing, never a finding of parental unfitness? These things made no sense in Congress.”[9]
With hundreds of tribes and dozens of states in the mix, what was shown was that Native families were four times more likely to have their children removed and placed in foster care than their white counterparts.
In 1978 the ICWA passed Congress and still stands as the only piece of binding national legislation on adoption ever created in the U.S. It gave tribal governments exclusive jurisdiction over children who resided on or are housed on a reservation. The act was and is considered to be the “gold standard” of the child welfare industry and set evidentiary standards higher than for non-Native families. It required that parents be offered crisis intervention services before a child can be taken, and relatives or tribal members, including those from other recognized tribes, are always given placement preference before any other options are considered.[10]
However, the law does not do two interesting things. One, the LDS church was granted an exception to the act and could continue to operate essentially as they had in the State of Utah fostering Native children. The second is that those born genetically or “racially” Indian but who were no longer part of any recognized tribe were also excluded from the act. Many tribes had physically dissolved during the later 1800s, unable to survive the pressures of the Indian Removal Act. This speaks to the point that the law is firmly centered on treating the political entity of the tribe as a sovereign nation – rather than the racial group of being Indian.
Now, ten states with high Native tribal populations have codified their own versions of the ICWA into their own state law.
The Past Influences the Present
In December 2022, the Supreme Court heard oral arguments in the case Brackeen v. Haaland, which is considering the constitutionality of the Indian Child Welfare Act (ICWA).
The challengers said that the act is unconstitutional because it gives preference to race in placing a Native child in a Native family. In this case, Jennifer and Chad Brakeen, who are white, have been foster parents to their Native child since 2016. He was ten months old when he was placed with them – and they are the only family he has ever known. According to the terms of the ICWA, tribal authorities have the right to insist the child be placed with another family who lives far away simply because they are also Native American.
The parents did successfully adopt their son in 2018 after a legal battle but have remained passionate about changing the existing law. A prominent law firm, Gibson Dunn, agreed to represent the family pro bono to bring a suit to argue the constitutionality of the ICWA. The suit has since been joined by several other families who wish to adopt Native children in the states of Texas, Indiana, and Louisiana, where it has wound its way through the courts since 2017.[11]
The challengers state that the ICWA violates the Equal Protection component of the Fifth Amendment because it is giving preference to race in adoption. Native American children are still seen in disproportionally high numbers in the foster care system, and the law, it is argued, places barriers between those children and loving homes that wish to have them. Many non-Native couples wanting to adopt simply turn elsewhere when faced with the hurdles of adopting a Native child.
With most laws, there is the theory and intent of the law, which then in actual practice may create different or challenging outcomes. Some social workers have mixed feelings about their experiences with the ICWA. In hearing from one retired worker, she shared the following recollection:
“There were two children who had been placed with us at the Sothern Nevada Children’s Home. They were removed from their biological parents and placed with us for abuse and neglect. They did so well – made progress in school, had many friends, and were bonded with their cottage “parents”. They were removed from our care when the parents showed up out of nowhere and wanted custody without having any contact with them for two years. They were placed back with their parents who had no capability of taking care of them. There was no effort to work with them to help them establish some type of living situation, (they were living in their car), nor to place them in a Native American home. We were given no notice or information about what would happen to the kids until their court date and we were not allowed to send them their belongings – clothes, toys, keepsakes – anything!
They were returned to the custody of the State of Nevada again about two years later in northern Nevada. I have no idea of what happened to them. It was one of the most heartbreaking cases I worked on in the many years I was a social worker.
In my opinion because of the ICWA the children were placed twice in an unsafe and dangerous situation, and I was not allowed to work with the parents nor to ensure a safe placement for the children. That case has haunted me for years.”
~ Peggy Leavitt, MFT
Those defending the ICWA point to the established legal precedent of Morton v. Mancari in 1974. The Supreme Court established that decisions made in employment preferences for Natives by the Bureau of Indian Affairs were legal because it was not a “racial” preference. Instead, it was designed to respect and encourage Indian self-government and protect the “fulfillment of Congress’s unique obligation toward the Indians.” The ruling upholds the exception to the Fifth Amendment based upon the political classification of Native tribes as their own sovereign nations.[12]
The legal arguments regarding adoption policy that was born of a genuine need by Native tribes to keep and protect their children, and culture, has far-reaching consequences. The conversation about racial preferences spills into college submissions or access to health care programs, for example, for Natives and other minority groups.
On June 15th, 2023 the high court upheld the basic tenants of the ICWA in a seven to two decision. In the majority opinion written by Justice Amy Coney Barrett, “Congress’s power to legislate with respect to Indians is well established and broad,” wrote Barrett. “When Congress enacts a valid statute pursuant to its Article I powers, state law is naturally preempted … End of story.” However, the court did not consider the Equal Protection clause of the 14thAmendment, which is the discussion about racial preferences.[13]
Justice Neil Gorsuch joined the majority decision with a somewhat different opinion writing, “The mass removal of children from their family homes in the 1950s, ’60s and ’70s, was only the latest iteration of a much older policy of removing Indian children from their families–one intentionally spearheaded by federal officials with the aid of their state counterparts nearly one hundred fifty years ago. In all its many forms, the dissolution of the Indian family has had devastating effects on children and parents alike. It has also presented an existential threat to the continued vitality of the tribes–something many federal and state officials over the years saw as a feature, not a flaw.”
“In adopting the Indian Child Welfare Act,” he concluded, Congress exercised its lawful authority “to secure the right of Indian parents to raise their families as they please; the right of Indian children to grow in their culture; and the right of Indian communities to resist fading into the twilight of history.”[14]
[1] Briggs, Laura. Somebody’s Children: The Politics of Transracial and Transnational Adoption. Duke University Press, 2012.
[2] Briggs, Laura. Somebody’s Children: The Politics of Transracial and Transnational Adoption. Duke University Press, 2012.
[3] Asgarian, R. (2022, November 10). Texas case could change adoption rules for Native American children, and undercut tribal rights. The Texas Tribune. Retrieved April 19, 2023, from https://www.texastribune.org/2022/11/10/indian-child-adoption-scotus/
[4] Briggs, Laura. Somebody’s Children: The Politics of Transracial and Transnational Adoption. Duke University Press, 2012.
[5] Briggs, Laura. Somebody’s Children: The Politics of Transracial and Transnational Adoption. Duke University Press, 2012.
[6] Briggs, Laura. Somebody’s Children: The Politics of Transracial and Transnational Adoption. Duke University Press, 2012.
- Author’s Note: the term ‘Social Workers’ will be loosely applied here, as there are many levels of social workers, case workers and other decision makers within the child welfare system.
[7] Briggs, Laura. Somebody’s Children: The Politics of Transracial and Transnational Adoption. Duke University Press, 2012.
[8] Briggs, Laura. Somebody’s Children: The Politics of Transracial and Transnational Adoption. Duke University Press, 2012.
[9] Briggs, Laura. Somebody’s Children: The Politics of Transracial and Transnational Adoption. Duke University Press, 2012.
[10] Asgarian, R. (2022, November 10). Texas case could change adoption rules for Native American children, and undercut tribal rights. The Texas Tribune. Retrieved April 19, 2023, from https://www.texastribune.org/2022/11/10/indian-child-adoption-scotus/
[11] Asgarian, R. (2022, November 10). Texas case could change adoption rules for Native American children, and undercut tribal rights. The Texas Tribune. Retrieved April 19, 2023, from https://www.texastribune.org/2022/11/10/indian-child-adoption-scotus/
[12] Supreme Court considers Native American preferences and classifications. JD Supra. (n.d.). Retrieved April 19, 2023, from https://www.jdsupra.com/legalnews/supreme-court-considers-native-american-2914583/#:~:text=ICWA%20was%20enacted%20in%201978,usually%20in%20non%2DIndian%20homes.
[13] Supreme Court upholds law giving Native American families priority in adoption. MSN. (n.d.). https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/other/supreme-court-upholds-law-giving-native-american-families-priority-in-adoption/ar-AA1cBw6U
[14] Totenberg, N., & Gupta, M. (2023, June 15). The Supreme Court leaves Indian Child Welfare Act intact. NPR. https://www.npr.org/2023/06/15/1182121455/indian-child-welfare-act-supreme-court-decision
by JeanWidner | Jun 9, 2023 | Adoptee Stories, Birth Parent
From deep inside the womb, I know both love and sadness. They ripple through my blood, my bones, and intertwine to create the essence of me.
This invisible truth sits inside, certain, a spark that will not die. Like the campfire that no matter how much dirt or water you douse it with, an unseen whiff of breeze keeps the embers glowing. I tend it closely.
***
My mother lives in the bungalow. The house that is not a home where she has been sent to have me and give me up to God and the powers that swirl around her. Other girls are with her. They mirror her story. At the age of eighteen and unwed, she has been sent halfway across the country from the only place she has ever lived.
Beyond the shame of her circumstances, are other pains. Her stepfather of the past five years is not only the Chief of Police, but abusive to both her and her mother. Nothing will happen to him in that small North Dakota town. He can do as he pleases with his women.
***
I come kicking and squealing onto this earth at 11:30 in the morning on April 21st, 1965. With this first breath I already feel my mother’s love. She has spoken without words her hopes and fears of the last nine months. I have drunk from her soul, fed on the unseeable parts of her, grown and thrived despite the desperation of her world. I know only her.
My father, a young, enlisted soldier met her at a dance two years prior. They dated, broke up, but reunite. He is then transferred from the nearby air base all the way to Alaska. He says he will not marry her. Not only because he sees no way he can support them, but also because of their religious differences.
My mother is Catholic and he a serious Methodist. Organized religion has thoroughly indoctrinated these two young people into believing they are too different to build a life together.
More has been done with less, but the constraints of their society show no respite from its pressures.
***
In the bungalow, letters come and go. Phone calls provide no answers. No peace. She recovers from her labors and prays. And curses. And weeps. She holds me and feeds me, maybe even from her breast.
Social workers give advice. “Oh honey, it will all work out. You’ll see, this will all be for the best.” There is only one story allowed in this house, and it is that she must do this, give me away for both her well being and mine. No other options are considered.
***
They bring me to her daily. I know her voice from the womb, know her smell. Within my bundle I feel her fear, her sadness, and her anger. I wonder how many times she cries.
Fifty years later in her darkest nights, does she think of me?
She gives me no formal name, but many of these young women have a ‘crib name’ for their babies. I do not know mine.
***
In the bungalow, there are more words from the experts who guide her, “If you name her, it will be harder on you to let her go.” For days she continues to recover. Her youth feels heavy on her shoulders as she prays to her omnipotent God that provides no new answers.
Eventually the letters and the calls and the unfairness of it all wring her out. She is left with only her shed tears and dying hopes and finds she has no choice.
***
Nine days after I was born, she walks into a courtroom and signs the papers that leave her bereft. I am no longer hers, and she is no longer mine. By the act of a pen and the closed minds that surround her, a woman she will never see again carries me away to be raised by another mother.
But before she goes, I dream, that the last moment she sees me, she reaches out one more time. Within the blanket wrapped tightly around me, her hand brushes the air by my puffy cheeks and barely touches my hair. And that speck of flame comes to life with the tiniest breeze that no one else can feel but me.
by JeanWidner | Feb 22, 2023 | Adoptee Stories
The mother who raised me was an addict. She and my father adopted me, but I’m not sure why. In 1962 when you got married, you started a family. Those were the rules. Never mind that my mother had already begun her dark slide into depression and addiction. The dual burdens that would haunt her psyche and mine for the formative years of our intertwined lives.
Now, as an adult, it is impossible for me to separate the effects of growing up adopted from the problems of being raised with addiction.
See one of Monty Python’s Flying Circus cartoons with my head in the center. The cartoon image springs to life and takes a can opener to me. Creak, creak, creak, and pops my head open like a Pez dispenser. Two hands come down into my brain and start rummaging around in the muck that is me. Two signs sit to the left and right – one says adoption, the other addiction. A hand pulls out one pile of goo and vacillates, wobbling between the two sides – which pile to put this in? Let’s go with adoption. Another scoop comes out, same routine, we’ll plop this mess onto the addiction slop. Lack of trust – glop. Abandonment – drop that over here. Fear of loss – squish. On it goes.
My brain bits now oozing all over, the only thing I can be certain of is that I’m not sure it matters. My inner being, that little girl – she just needs to heal herself now as an adult. I’m uncertain if there is value in sorting through it all to define which traits come from where. My job is to become whole again despite the trauma.
When I was little, I took ballet and gymnastics classes at the St. Claire Dance Studio. We had a practice room with bars, and in one section was a glass windowed lounge with folding chairs where our parents could watch us. I’d be dancing around, springing into the air in my best Tour Jete, and like all the other little girls, hope my mother was watching. Mine never was. She always sat there with her book, reading, not seeing. No matter what I did or how well, she never took the time to take in the scene, make eye contact, or give me that smile. She sat. Her head bowed down.
She cared more about books than she did about me. She cared more about her coping mechanisms than about anyone else.
When growing up, it was as if I had two mommies. One was the happy-faced mommy with her mask fully in place. She acted normal, engaged, smiled, and was fun to be around. Mommy number two was raging, crying, screaming at I-didn’t-know-what mommy. Or she wouldn’t get out of bed. I never knew from day to day, or even morning to night, which one would be waiting for me. She managed herself with prescription drugs and alcohol. Daily, mom swigged uppers, downers, and everything in-betweeners, capped off with drinks in the evening. But of course, as a child, I knew none of this.
By fifth grade, I was in soccer, a mixed co-ed team of gangly youngsters, and both of my parents went to the games every Saturday. My father at the sidelines cheered us on with the other parents. But my mom sat in the camp chair she would bring and read her book. After, my friends and I would pile into the back seat with my parents up front, and as we eagerly recounted the game’s events, mom wouldn’t even know what had happened – if we’d won or lost. My friends noted her odd behavior and asked why she bothered to come. I couldn’t answer because, from my seat, I couldn’t understand why she had adopted me.
Her love was missing – it wasn’t where I needed it to be. As an adopted child, you worry you are not good enough, that someone did not want you. Love, logic, or will cannot overcome that constant companion. We need our adoptive parents aware of these truths so much more than most people understand.
The universe tries to deliver gifts of love to each of us. But you must grasp those precious gems when they arrive. If you miss them, that love will skip past you like flat stones across the surface of a hard, still, lake. They ripple and disturb the surface but cannot be held onto and absorbed. Instead, those gifts will run at you across the universe and streak past. But eventually, that stone runs out of energy and sinks to the bottom. Unused, it dissolves – dead weight taking up space.
I became like that hard, still, lake. Those were my coping mechanisms.
Since no love was directed toward me from my mother, I anchored myself to others. I made friends easily and busied myself with their lives, a better substitute for mine, I was certain. For my mother, I made no room for her at all. As a typically rebellious teen, I directed nothing toward her but my pain. I couldn’t trust her with anything else.
I’ve heard it said that there are two primary emotions – anger and sadness – those are the strongest. What was coming out of me was anger, but what was lurking underneath was sadness. Grief.
Grief that I felt so completely unloved and alone inside despite looking like I was busy, popular, and fitting in well at school. Resentment that no matter what I did, I never felt safe. Not that someone would hurt me, but I could not let my pain show anywhere, ever. That did not fit the narrative that we were a happy, perfect little family.
As adoptees, we are told on one hand that our noble, suffering birth mother loved us so much that she gave us up for someone else to raise. We are also simultaneously told that we are chosen, special, and wanted by our parents. So then love gives you away, and love also wants you but, in my case, rejects you. That is just one epic head-screw if there ever was one.
When I was fifteen, my mother lifted herself up and began her journey to being clean and sober. When I was young, I hated her for her weakness, but the truth is that she was strong. I learned that she had her own mean-spirited, narcissistic alcoholic mother from whom she needed to heal.
As an adult, I know my addict mom wasn’t rejecting me and that she loved me in her own way very much. She just didn’t feel that she had anything to give. I believe this is true had I been her natural child or her adopted one. A different source, same outcome.
Reconciling those truths is one of the most important journeys we, as adoptees, need to trek. Our parents are as flawed and as messed up as anyone else’s. Our society must understand that adoption does not make a perfect family. It creates a human one. There are complexities and nuances to this that coexist while remaining contradictory. Like a crazy, misunderstood flying circus swinging away inside our heads.
by JeanWidner | Aug 26, 2022 | Adoptive Parent
I’m married to Matt, and I’m a petite little thing, and I don’t cycle properly. We married later in life. I was 28. We started looking at adoption immediately because it took us a year and a half to get pregnant with our first son, Jacob. We started looking at adoption, and then I was pregnant. Then I threw up for nine months. I left the hospital at 92 pounds after birth. I mean granted, I was only 94 when I got pregnant, but it was horrible.
Then we had feisty Brienne in March. As she hit one, Matt’s like, “What are we going to do? We want three.” I’m like, “I am never getting pregnant again because I puke from the minute the sperm hits the egg until that baby comes out of me. It’s horrible, and it’s just… I don’t want to puke for nine months again.” Apparently, it doesn’t matter the sex, because one was a boy, and one was a girl. So anyway, we started the adoption process. By now this is 2002.
It was extremely expensive. The first route we tried was the Mormons because they’re cheap, but we’re not Mormon so they wouldn’t help us. Then we went to Jewish Social Services. We are not Jewish, but they did our home study, and they wouldn’t help us find a baby because we’re not Jewish, but they did all the stuff that’s required by the state for probably $20,000.00 – less than Catholic charities, the state, anybody else. It was way cheaper, Jewish Services, but we had to find our own baby.
I called everyone. The state was more interested in you fostering and then getting your home study for the adoption process. I wasn’t really interested in adopting a seven-year-old. I think all in all it was about $25,000.00 to adopt our son. We paid her copay for the hospital, which was like $250.00, and bought her Panda Express. That’s it, as far as the birth mom. The rest was just all the fees required by the state.
They work on everything. They want to know your religious background, and what you believe in. They want to make sure you have an income coming into the home. They inspect the home to make sure it’s safe for a child. They wanted to know if we had relationships with our parents. Of course, any siblings. It wasn’t as intense as the amount you spend, how about that? You’re spending $25,000.00, and you’re kind of expecting them to do more. They do a background check. They make sure you don’t have any felonies, which obviously was not an issue. They make sure you’re not doing drugs. We had to do blood tests. It wasn’t that intense, really.
Then we get a call from Jewish Social Services. I can’t remember her name, but this attorney who deals with adoption, has this baby that’s coming quickly, and she needs someone to adopt that doesn’t care about race, color, skin, whatever.
When we went to the lawyer about the adoption, she tells us, “Here’s the problem, everyone says they want to adopt and they come to me because I’m the best in the city. But, everyone wants a baby that looks just like them.” She said 95% of her interracial babies are black babies, Chinese babies, or whatever get adopted in Canada because nobody wants them in America, which just boggled my mind. I didn’t understand that. I still don’t understand that.
It was January. The baby was due on February 14th. Jacob’s birth mom had her OBGYN’s nurse going to adopt the baby, but she never did the home study and stuff. If you wait, then it’s even more expensive. You’re talking $30-$40,000.00 easy because they have to rush all the paperwork. Now here’s the mom with a baby, and she has nowhere for the baby to go. She’s five 10, she lived with her parents and her daughter, and you couldn’t even tell she was pregnant.
We meet at Olive Garden, and we talk to her for about four hours. She was like, “Are you equipped and able to raise a chocolate child?” And yes, she actually used the word, “chocolate child”.
I worked at my son’s preschool. I’m at preschool. I get a call from her. She says, “I’d like you to take my baby,” to which I immediately left work. I had to go – I’m having a baby! This was probably, I want to say, February 8th. She was induced on February 12th. Not a whole lot of time to plan. I am used to carrying a baby, the baby comes, you feel the baby, and the baby is born.
Then the mom said she wanted me in the birth room. Okay. Then she changed her mind, but she didn’t call me. So, I know she’s having a baby, and I’m sitting on the couch rocking and back and forth. Matt walks in, he’s like, “What the hell’s wrong with you?” I’m like, “Well, she hasn’t called. I don’t know what’s going on. Where’s the baby?” He said, “Welcome to the man side of the story because the baby just shows up. I know you let me feel it move in your belly, but this is how it feels to be a man.” I’m like, “Well, I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.” So, she had the baby. She had her tubes tied.
She called, and she had him at the Hospital. We walked into the room and it was her and her sister, who apparently knew she was pregnant. She handed me Jacob, whom she called Caleb. And, she’s like, “Here’s your chocolate boy.” I said, “Thank you.” And that’s why he’s been Chocolate Boy ever since because birth mom called him that. I even call him that. Then we bonded. We bought her dinner. I don’t know. She wanted orange chicken from Panda Express, I remember that.
In Nevada, it’s a three-day wait. Mom has three days to change their mind. After 24 hours, she was released from the hospital and she says, “I just want to make sure you’re going to see him.” She had two rules, I had to call her if I couldn’t do his hair, and he had to be circumcised, and I could name him whatever I wanted. So, we named him Jacob, and then William after my father.
The state then literally called me when Jacob was six months old. They had a mixed-race baby girl that was due… My home study and everything was still good, and they wanted me to take her. I’m like, I can’t have a newborn and a six-month-old. Come on, now. I’m a good mom, but I’m not that good. I’m like, “Call me in a year.” Yeah, because they couldn’t find a home. She probably ended up in Canada.
For two days, I would just go to the hospital and hold him. My breast milk came in. I nursed him. But he didn’t really like that because nursing is more work than a bottle, and he was drinking four ounces of formula out of the hospital, which is a lot for a newborn. So, I nursed him for two weeks, and then I was just annoyed because I had engorged boobs and I didn’t even give birth.
Matt was on swing shift at work. When you nurse, you’re up every two hours. When you bottle feed, they sleep for four to six hours. Then Matt would come home from swings, and he’d do that 2:00 AM feeding because I was done. This is going to sound totally racist, but it’s not. So, he’s in his bassinet and he’s two days old, and he’s crying. I literally couldn’t find him. He’s black. It’s dark. I’m like, “Where the hell is he?”
I never didn’t love him from the minute I held him. He totally completed our family, but that made me laugh. I literally could not find the baby. Where is he? Oh, there he is. Cool. I couldn’t find him. After that, I learned to dress him in white because I couldn’t find him. He’s not there, and he’s crying. I can hear him. We didn’t have cellphones with flashlights then. So, I found said baby, took care of said baby, and changed his diaper. At three days old, Jacob went to his first rodeo with my mother. Jared and Brienne were rodeoing. Matt was putting in the floor at the new house. People literally came up to me and said, “You look so good for just having a baby.”
I said, “Thank you. I just saw him last month.” I’m obviously not pregnant. Whatever.
They do checkups like they have to, the state. The first time they came, it was three or four months of age, something like that. They were like, “Now you’ve moved to this small town, are there any other interracial children? Is he going to be okay growing up here?” I’m like, “Look two doors down, they adopted a black girl. Does that count? They’re white.” They’re like, “Yep, that counts. Perfect.
I remember one time I was at Babies R’ Us… this woman says, “I don’t know, but that baby should stay with his own race.” I said, “Really?” And I called the manager and that woman got fired.
Then fast forward, everything obviously was fine with the home checks. No big deal. Now he’s just my little pain in the ass. There’s the story. Now he’s just a grown-up pain in the ass. He’s a good kid. He’s a loving child. He doesn’t even question the race thing. It is what it is. I’m his mom.
When he was in 8th grade, he’s playing basketball for the junior high. He gets in the car and he says, “Mom.” I say, “What?” He says, “That kid, Paolo Verde,” I’m like, “Yeah?” He goes, “He called me a nigger. Does he want to beat me up or be my best friend?” I sat, “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
I don’t know why we wanted three kids. I guess we just wanted them to totally run our lives, because once you have three they’re in control. It’s like a flock. I think some of it is too, because we started with the adoption idea, and even though we had… I had this huge talk with my buddy Kendall on the Fourth of July. He was a little intoxicated. He’s like, “Here, you have these two perfect babies. Why did you add this other one?” I’m like, “Because we needed him to finish our family.” He’s never been married, and he’s never had a kid. So, he doesn’t understand any of it. I’m trying to explain to him. I’m like, “Jacob finished our family. He made us complete.” Then he kept hiding his picture on the wall. “No, no, no, you had two perfect babies. You had a boy and a girl, like everyone’s dream. But you added another one.”
Jacob does have medical issues. He’s an epileptic. It’s a huge burden. I know his father was worried about the Black Lives Matter thing because I remember him calling Jacob. We were at Dick’s Sporting Goods. He was like, “If you ever get scared, you come to me.” Jacob’s like, “I could give a rat’s ass, dad. I don’t care. I’m good.”
I wish I knew more about his medical history. That would just be because of the epilepsy.
But that woulda/coulda happens even if I had had a biological baby. Other than the two days maybe it took me to just adapt to having a newborn in the house again, and then I never rethought it again.
To any other adoptive parent, I’d say, love it like it’s your own because it is. You have to go into adoption knowing that that’s yours until you die. No matter what they do, no matter their medical issues, no matter what. Jacob is mine until I die. I never questioned that or would ever re-think that, ever.
