IN THEIR VOICES: BLACK AMERICANS ON TRANSRACIAL ADOPTION was written from a place of love and support for fostered and adopted children of color raised in white homes, white adoptive parents, nonadopted siblings, extended family members, and the ever-growing transracial adoption community in the United States. My intention is that this book will reach policy makers, researchers and practitioners in the fields of social work and clinical therapy, and communities of color as well as the broader society. Adoption workers and the transracial adoption community have given minimal attention to recruiting and listening to the insightful voices of black Americans on the adoption of black and biracial children by white parents. Even progressive adoption agencies and transracial adoptive families that understand the importance to their families of making connections with the black community have found this difficult to accomplish because of the lack of know-how, access, and urgency. This book is my effort to make the process of integrating transracial adoptive families with people of color easier by tapping the voices of black Americans and including them in the complicated discussion of why love and race matter, especially when raising children across racial and cultural lines. By no means do the stories told by the participants in this book reflect the experiences of all black Americans. But their stories, taken together, do reflect certain experiences common to African Americans, and virtually all have expressed the need to prepare young black and biracial transracial adoptees for the likelihood that they, too, will have these experiences.
I hope that readers have come to realize, based on the interviews presented throughout these pages, that in the twenty-first century it remains crucial for the development of healthy self-esteem and identity by black and biracial transracial adoptees for them to regularly see and interact with people who look like them. As a transracial adoptee and ally of transracial adoptive families, I believe it is valuable for black and biracial transracial adoptees to know about their racial and ethnic history and to learn how to navigate comfortably in mainstream society and in communities of color across socioeconomic, professional, generational, and geographic borders.
Further, I believe that for the transracial adoptive family as a whole to move comfortably in different circles, these families must build cultural skills and literacies in their adoptee’s racial and ethnic community/ies of origin. These refined skill sets will allow the family as a unit to understand, and show compassion to, one another, as well as participate in the struggles, activities, interests, and physical and emotional journeys of every one of its members on a more heightened and engaged level. For too long the transracial adoption community in general has not gone beyond the white world in its attempts to seek answers for its children of color, which has left them isolated and without the desperately needed experiences or wisdom found in the communities from which these beautiful children originated.
I have made the case that a social and geographic distance remains between communities of color and transracial adoptive families with white parents, despite increasing efforts by transracial adoptive families to identify themselves as multiracial, and that this distance means these children and their families do not get the help they need. Transracial adoption can be a beneficial and bold way to build a family. That is why I argue that the practice of transracial adoption, and the policies that support it, must embrace the adopted child’s historical, cultural, and racial background: those characteristics make up a significant part of the child’s identity.
Here are some examples of my own cultural confusion. My husband is African American, and after we married, I was shocked at the extra care he gave to ironing his clothes and making sure that his shoes always were polished. I tended to be less attentive to my dress, especially on Saturdays. One day he ironed his shirt and jeans just to go to Home Depot with me to pick up some tools and light fixtures. I thought that was a bit excessive. I also could not understand why we always had to be at our destination twenty to thirty minutes early whenever we were going somewhere together, whether it was to church, meet friends, or attend some event. And I was completely baffled when he became annoyed if I did not schedule my hair appointments regularly (they take three hours and a lot of money). These interviews caused me to revisit events in my own life that had been obscured by my color-blind upbringing and led me to a deeper understanding of, and historical perspective on, what I had actually experienced. Just being black in America—accomplishing basic tasks in public—can be exhausting. In this country black people still find a cloud of suspicion or concern overhead as they go about their lives. African Americans like my interviewees—and my husband—do what they can to reduce some of that suspicion by dressing well, speaking properly, behaving respectfully, arriving on time, following the rules, maintaining the care of their hair and skin, and so on. No one wants to be followed in a store or find themselves in altercations with the police or others in authority. Still, even black Americans who do all these things have no guarantee they will be treated fairly.
Yet, like me—and I left home more than twenty years ago—most transracial adoptees of color continue to grow up in a bubble of white privilege, attitudes, and experiences and apart from people of color. Research shows transracially adoptive families with white parents interact with mostly white family members, attend predominately white places of learning and worship, live in predominately white neighborhoods, and have predominately white friends. A common theme expressed by young black and biracial adult adoptees in In Their Own Voices (Simon & Roorda, 2000) is that their parents do not see color. They “accept us for who we are as people,” as all parents should. But the problem comes when we, as transracial adoptees, open the door and walk out into the real world, where we are judged by the color of our skin. While this color-blind mind-set may come from a place of good intentions, it ignores the distinct history and realities of race in America. For many transracial adoptees who participated in In Their Own Voices, white culture and attitudes taught in their home and communities became the norm, the determiner of what is good and valid, leaving no room for them (or their family) to embrace diversity. The result is that the transracial adoptee learns to want to be white and to dislike whatever makes them look different, including their hair, skin, eyes, and racial and ethnic heritage.
When I left the bubble of my white family and ventured out into society as a young black woman, my world changed. I no longer had the shelter of my white parents and their privileges. It was a rude awakening to realize that black Americans, including black and biracial transracial adoptees like me, are constantly assessed—on the street and in the classroom, boardroom, and workplace—and often are judged to be second rate because of the color of our skin and the painful history tied to it.
As I was struggling with my own racial identity as a young adult transracial adoptee, one of the first bits of advice that I received from my African American mentors is to know that you are black, a key point made by participants in this book. It is important that, as transracial adoptees of color, we have a healthy black identity and an awareness of our strengths and weaknesses so that when we find ourselves being judged—by society, our local communities, ourselves, or even our own adoptive families—we can stand firm on who we are, where we came from. That is why the interviewees who are parents and grandparents focus a great deal on instilling in their offspring firm values that will help guide and support them to become strong, centered, and confident individuals with exceptional purpose.
The parents and grandparents I interviewed also give their children the unambiguous message that they are black in America, which means they are inheriting challenges and struggles around race and identity that they must learn to navigate. These parents are intentional about initiating conversations with their children about race and culture, and as families they are tightly connected to the struggle, the history, and the experiences of being black in America. As Tabitha said of her and her husband’s approach to raising their two children, “We are raising them on purpose and with purpose.” She and her husband regard immersion in African American culture important to the development of their children’s racial identity; equally important is ensuring that their children are routinely exposed to African Americans who are excelling in their professions and giving back to the community. They believe that a strong comprehension of black history is vital to their children’s formation.
One way that Mahisha Dellinger and her husband expose their children to African Americans who excel in their professions is by ensuring that their daughters see black dentists and pediatricians. Mahisha, ever mindful of the appalling results of the Clark and Clark doll study, works especially hard to instill in her girls positive messages of self-worth. Her company makes a line of quality hair care products for people of mixed ethnicities and with different hair textures, and she uses the products to reinforce the message of the importance of healthy self-esteem. She says, “Self-esteem is important for girls of color, women of color, and hair maintenance and health is a huge part of that.” She encourages transracial adoptive parents to pour a lot of energy, time, and resources into strengthening their child’s self-esteem, ideally before they become teens, so that they will have a foundation for making good choices about dating, friendships, and education.
Parenting boys in the post–civil rights era is especially challenging, forcing parents to consider how society views their black sons. Shilease Hofmann and her husband saw their own teenage sons in Trayvon Martin, the seventeen-year-old Floridian shot to death by a neighborhood watch volunteer in 2012. Shilease and her husband thought they had counseled their sons effectively about how to address authority appropriately and not be harmed, but “Trayvon Martin did what I would have told my children to do.” His death, Shilease said, “reinforced . . . my beliefs that you always have to be vigilant and you always have to be aware, because the rules can change on you.”
Unfortunately such powerful words and sound parenting advice are often muted in a color-blind world. The black community knows from bitter experience always to be alert to white America’s level of concern toward black people. That is an awareness that white parents, especially of black boys, need to acquire. When white adoptive parents do not introduce their children of color to their history, and fail to seek out mentors and pursue relationships with people color, these parents may be depriving their children, especially their sons, of information that is crucial both to their identity and to learning to safeguard themselves as they move about in society at large.
I wrote this book in the belief that if white transracial adoptive parents recognize the value of learning about the historical, racial, and ethnic experiences of black people in this country, they will realize that they have a vested interest in knowing and caring about the issues and concerns important to black America. In addition I believe that when transracial adoptive parents regularly interact with people of color, these parents will gain a comfort level in talking with their children about issues of race. I strongly believe that the skill set transracial adoptive parents acquire will better equip them to protect their children of color from the impact of racial insults by enabling them to instill in their children countermessages that are positive and that reinforce their child’s self-worth and the adoptive family’s worth as a multiracial-multicultural unit.
Good role models. Healthy self-esteem. The life-saving value of vigilance and good manners. These are the reasons why black Americans and white adoptive parents who are entrusted with children of color should become proactive in developing sustainable relationships with each other. We now know, through transracial adoption research, oral histories from transracial adoptees, and the testimony of African Americans, that the realities of black and biracial transracial adoptees merge with the realities and experiences of black and brown America as these adoptees move out of their childhood homes and communities. Society does not ask these transracial adoptees whether they were raised in a white family, nor does it care. Left to face that harsh truth alone, transracial adoptees are often ill prepared to figure out how to navigate in society with dark skin even as they are becoming distressed that their adoptive families lacked the understanding and depth to draw on the assistance of black people for the benefit of the transracial adoptive family.
All the participants I interviewed for this book are supportive of transracial adoption, especially if it means that the many available children who are languishing in the U.S. foster care system (a disproportionate number of whom are children of color) will be placed in loving, permanent, and secure homes. The interviewees recognize that children can grow roots and build a strong foundation in good families of all combinations. However, they expect white transracial adoptive parents to grasp the importance of embracing their family’s connection to the black community, its diversity, culture, and history. That the people I interviewed vulnerably shared their stories and gave their time, love, and knowledge to transracial adoptive families is a testament to the interviewees’ sincere desire for these families to establish relationships with other African Americans to ensure the well-being of black and biracial adoptees living in white families.
One group that could be instrumental in introducing transracial adoptive families to the black community is black social workers. As a transracial adoptee I had to work through the hurt I felt at the hands of both a foster care system that too easily assumed my destiny based on the color of my skin and my age and the National Association of Black Social Workers, which also projected a dim future for me. I felt that the NABSW’s 1972 statement opposing transracial adoption left me, other transracial adoptees, and our families with little or no guidance and support in navigating society’s roadblocks and pitfalls. I have long been a firm believer that transracial adoptive families need the NABSW and the broader black community, and now I have the courage and experience to push both communities to establish meaningful connections.
I am incredibly enriched by each participant in this book. W. Wilson Goode Sr., who ministers to children and their incarcerated parents; Vershawn A. Young, who found a means to integrate black language in academia; Demetrius Walker, who inspires young members of the hip-hop culture to learn about black history and intellectual empowerment; and others in this book who demonstrate that as, they have risen up the economic ladder, they have not forgotten who they are, where they came from, and the responsibility they have to give back to their community. That will to promote advantage, opportunity, and guidance in their communities is what they bring to the table when talking to black and biracial transracial adoptees and their families.
According to Chester Jackson, a crucial step for white parents who are considering fostering and adopting black and/or biracial children is to “believe that you can foster and adopt these amazing children and that these children can have a bright future.” Chelsey Hines is unyielding in her view that once parents believe that they can foster and adopt children, they must actually invest and participate in their child’s life. Families, particularly transracial adoptive families, need added support from their adoption agencies. White parents who adopt black and biracial children need a strong network, and I am convinced that postadoption services need to more effectively prepare transracial adoptive families for this experience.
As I speak around the country, a key step that white transracial adoptive families struggle with is actually building relationships with black people, which includes finding a role model or mentor for their child. I know that is not an easy task. Many of the transracial adoptive families I have met want to be respectful of the black community and do not want to appear desperate. I hope this book will provide common ground for both groups to build relationships with each other with much more clarity and comfort—and the assistance of the NABSW. Henry Allen suggests that transracial adoptive parents establish networks that reflect a range of people, including members of their child’s ethnic community. W. Wilson Goode Sr. suggests that white adoptive parents humble themselves and ask the black community for help. He does caution that they may encounter a backlash but urges them to persist. According to Goode, a great way for transracial adoptees to connect with black people is by joining black fraternities and sororities at colleges and universities or even by spending time in the home of a black family overnight or for a weekend. Other interviewees suggested participating in black churches and attending local black cultural events.
In an effort to help make the suggestions offered by those in this book more manageable for transracial adoptive parents, the appendix provides a strategic multicultural adoption plan for the long-term enrichment of each family member, particularly the transracial adoptee. The goal of this plan is for the adoptive family to become knowledgeable about and comfortable with the adopted child’s racial/ethnic heritage and adoption experiences. The entire family’s involvement in learning about and understanding the developmental path of trans racially adopted children will give these children greater support in their efforts to develop healthy racial identities and senses of self. The hope, of course, is that, with the engaged support of the adoptive family and those in communities of color, transracial adoptees ultimately will be in a better position to flourish and lead centered and meaningful lives.