My father was black. My biological mother was white. My adoptive family is all white. So, it wasn’t like they could pretend I had been born from them. My earliest memories of being adopted are my parents talking about it and explaining that...
I had left college in 1967, which turned out to be one of those things where I realized this is not where I’m supposed to be. I’m busy finding a place, finding work, paying bills, and living where the University of Vermont is. Which is...
The Salvation Army had made two attempts to reach my birth mother. They sent two letters, three months apart, one in April, not long after we had located my mother Barbara, and then another one in July. They, like myself, had also left two voice...
That’s what I just might have said to you when I was about the age of three or four and just been introduced to you, “Hi, I’m abopted!”. With my smile on my skinny little frame and pixie-cut brown hair I proudly announced what I believed to be a...
A paradox means that you have seemingly opposite and dual realities. Adoptees are rescued, repaired, loved, rejected, celebrated, abandoned, made to feel special, made to feel less than. We are both grateful and angry. We are different from everyone...