Today we conclude our discussion of the new book by investigative journalist Kathryn Joyce, The Child Catchers: Rescue, Trafficking, and the New Gospel of Adoption. If you missed the previous installments in this series, you can read them here:
- Part 1: God's will and the moral imperative to adopt
- Part 2: Domestic adoption and the rebranding of adoption via specific language
- Part 3: Orphanages, deception of adoptive and original parents, and coercive tactics employed by the adoption industry
- Part 4: Attachment, abuse, and the beginnings of reform
Karen Pickell: In terms of balanced reporting within the
pages of The Child Catchers, I was
happy to see the examples you pointed out, Julie, of Christians who are trying
to affect change within the orphan adoption movement. While reading earlier
chapters, I wondered whether Joyce would give us a sense of what adoption done
right could look like. I think chapter seven, which covers Rwanda, is that
scenario I was hoping to find—an alternative way of handling adoption that
addresses true need and puts biological family and culture of origin above
international adoption, proof not only that adoption can be done differently,
but also that change can happen within the Christian adoption movement itself,
as we begin to see happening at Saddleback.
Mila: Very good point, Karen. I love the empowerment
that the Rwandans have, that they are not intimidated by America and do not view
it with awe. I love this quote from chapter seven: "The minister told me:
do this yourself. We will not work with agencies. You do it yourself and you
show me why you want to be a parent of a child from Rwanda, and I will look at
your paperwork." I, too, was encouraged by the shift in work and focus
that Saddleback exemplified in Rwanda. However I will say, as Joyce points out,
that this shift is NOT reflected in their main message here in the States. As
Joyce noted, Rick Warren still proclaimed at the Christian Alliance Summit,
"When I say orphan care, it's adoption first, second, and last." I
know I'm sounding like the disagreeable, never satisfied critic here. I realize
that the kind of reform and change necessary within the Christian adoption
movement is going to take time, but I guess I believe it shouldn't be taking as
long as it is. And in some ways, it could change so much more quickly, if the
leaders within the movement would take responsibility for the message they're
preaching about adoption.
On a different note, I do appreciate Joyce's discussion of
how culture is such a complex factor that influences how adoption practices
develop within a country, as exemplified in the last two chapters that focus on
Rwanda and Korea. I think Americans are often so naive and ignorant of the
cultural influences and complexities, and how these affect adoption practices
and attitudes within a country. Both Rwanda and Korea have complicated cultural
and social dynamics to address and overcome in order to develop domestic
solutions. However, as Joyce discusses, these obstacles are often used as
excuses rather than actively dismantled: "Agencies that have highlighted
South Korea's Confucian heritage as the reason that so many mothers must
relinquish did nothing to challenge the stigma . . . but instead used the
stigma to justify continued adoptions . . . agencies even helped perpetuate
that stigma by reinforcing the status quo." But as Jennifer Kwon Dobbs acknowledges,
particularly in the case of Korean adoptions, "rather than US parents
saying how sorry they felt about the circumstances that led to unwed mothers to
relinquish . . . adoptive parents could instead become their allies, helping
change the system that compels them to do so." I think what happens is
that international adoption is viewed as the "easy option" in the
minds of adoptive parents and adoption advocates. And in some ways, it is, when
you consider the work it takes to shift cultural attitudes, to overcome social
injustice and poverty, to address the complicated economic and political
systems. But as Joyce and other reformists acknowledge, adoption is ultimately
a women's rights issue and has become a social justice issue. Change can
happen, but people have to be willing to do the work. And they can't do the
work until they're willing to see the truth. I am glad that there are those
within the Christian adoption movement who are finally beginning to see the
need for reform and to address the root causes. I believe it is a moral imperative
that current adoption practices change, and the Christian adoption movement is
largely responsible. I hope they will listen and act.
Julie Stromberg: Mila, as I revisited chapter seven, I thought
of your comments on the sense of entitlement that many leaders in the American
Christian adoption movement seem to have regarding children in other countries.
The pressure was put on Rwanda to release its children to the United States
adoption system. The environment in Rwanda had the potential for turning into
another situation like that in Ethiopia. Yet, Rwandan officials remained
grounded in its mission to preserve its families and culture.
One passage that really hit home for me was Joyce's
conclusion that ". . . Rwanda's government maintained a tight grip on its
adoption process, scrutinizing each case extensively and effectively challenging prospective parents to
demonstrate why they deserved to adopt one of Rwanda's children [emphasis
mine]."
In keeping with that theme, the National Director of SOS
Children's Villages-Rwanda, Alfred Munyentwari, told Joyce that Rwandans are
afraid of not knowing whether their children are okay after they leave the
country. I couldn't help but think about how many American parents have lived
and experienced this exact fear. My natural parents waited 27 years to find out
if I was okay. And I was raised just a few towns away from them. I had not left
the country but I might as well have been halfway around the world. This is
what the American adoption system—with its altered birth certificates and
sealed records—does to parents and children, be it domestic or international
adoption.
Karen P.: Honestly, I felt like I wanted to kiss
Munyentwari. He really gets it. I love this quote from him: "This story is
to tell you that sometimes children can go and when they go, they will get
homesick . . . They will say, 'I am well fed, well clothed,' but no one can
feed that need." And this quote, too: "There are some people coming
and saying, 'the Rwandese are stupid because they don't want the good life for
their children.' But people have to think twice. I may be in a miserable situation
today and not able to educate my children, but maybe tomorrow can be
better."
Lynn Grubb: Yes, Julie, as adoptive mothers Jaya Holliman
of Vermont and Megan Biehl of California discovered, admirably, Rwanda takes
each adoption case at face value and MIGEPROF judged each adoption application
on an extremely personal basis—whether the ministry "felt that your story
was compelling enough that you deserve to have one of their children." I
am impressed that Rwanda is fiercely opposed to working with agencies. The
minister told Biehl, "We do not sell our babies." Can you imagine an
adoption system all over the world without adoption agencies charging
outlandish fees? Where governments scrutinize each case as to the "best
interests of a child"?
K. Dahlquist & R. Bangert |
This was one of the hardest chapters for me to read. The
culture described here is very similar to what I know my own mother faced here
in the U.S. in 1967-68. I hate that other women anywhere in the world are still
being shamed into not caring for their own children.
Even more difficult for me was thinking about my stepson,
who was adopted from South Korea in the 1970s by my husband and his first wife,
quite possibly under false pretenses. They were told the child they were
adopting was found on the streets, but the more I learn about Korean adoptions,
the more I suspect this explanation was likely fiction meant to ease the new
parents' consciences. I only wish I had been more knowledgeable years ago when
I first met my stepson as a young adult—he passed away in 2008, without ever
exploring the truth of his story. His brief life was tumultuous to say the
least, and I'll always wonder if he would have found some peace through
exploring his origin. My husband and I now talk about this often. At that time,
adoptive parents were at the mercy of the agencies they worked with to guide
them through the adoption process. My husband truly believed he was giving a
home to an orphan, although he received no education in Korean culture or
advice on what to expect, save for small instructions like what his new son was
used to eating. But now with all the information that's available via the
internet and books like The Child
Catchers, it's inconceivable to me that anyone could claim ignorance of
what's really going on in South Korea to make so many young children available
for adoption.
Mila: Karen, I feel for your stepson—it sounds as
though his story was such a tragic one. Chapter eight was incredibly painful
and emotional for me to read also. I think that's in part why I only alluded to
it in my comments above. I was on the verge of tears for most of the chapter
and burst into tears at several points. As someone who was adopted from Korea
in 1975, this chapter was obviously very personal for me. It is hard for me to
comment on the chapter because of how emotional I feel about it and how
personal it is for me. And it angers me still to this day that adoption
advocates and leaders in both Korea and America still refuse to listen to
Korean adoptees about our experiences of international adoption, and that the
culture in Korea is still so oppressive toward unwed pregnant women.
Korea is infamous for deceitful record keeping when it comes
to adoptees. Pretty much every adoptee I know who has searched has discovered
some kind of discrepancy or straight up lie in their file. In my own situation,
all of my life my adoption papers from the agency had told me that my Korean
mother had abandoned me at a clinic and that I had been found by a doctor there,
and that they had no information regarding my Korean mother or father. Later,
when I finally initiated a search in 2002, I discovered over the seven years
that I searched that not only did my Omma not just leave and walk away from me
at the clinic, but that all those years, Eastern Social Welfare Society had
detailed information on BOTH my Korean parents. Even old addresses, ages and
number of siblings, level of education, and so forth, and most significantly a
NAME for my Korean mother. And it ended up being the right name. I was
completely shocked that for 30+ years of my life, this information was just
sitting there in Korea. But I had to push hard for it and they did not
volunteer information willingly. Rather, I had to ask very detailed questions
and keep wearing them down. And they had even more information that they did
not divulge to me until AFTER my Korean parents had been located. The culture
surrounding unwed pregnant women and adoption can be infuriating and
heartbreaking to say the least. My Omma is definitely one of the women who was
left with no choice but to give me up, and she was basically forced by her
older sister, my Imo, to do so. Her parents never even knew about her pregnancy
or my existence. Anyway, it's a long story and very convoluted (as most
adoption and reunion stories are), but I definitely have a love-hate
relationship with Korea. Chapter eight definitely was a hard one for me to
read, and yet I know how very true Joyce's accounting of Korea's culture and
adoption industry is.
Karen P.: It was very encouraging, though, to read that
adult adoptee groups who have returned to Korea and are advocating for reform
are actually being invited to the table to draft legislation that would support
unwed mothers there so that, in time, they hopefully will no longer feel
pressured to either abort or relinquish. Jane Jeong Trenka calls the roll
adoptees played in two South Korean bills passed in 2011
"unprecendented," saying also, "it's so awesome that we can be
here, because we don't have any power in the US." Joyce points out that in
America, adoptee advocates "are often dismissed as too emotional or
embittered to have an accurate perspective on international adoption." She
goes on to say that "the voices of adoptive parents and their lobbyists
drown out those of adoptees and certainly birth parents or single mothers."
How crazy is this system where the very people who are most affected by
adoption are painted as unstable, voices that shouldn't be taken seriously in
determining adoption policy! Again, this goes back to how powerful the adoption
industry, fueled by huge profits, has become in the U.S. and how easy it has
been for them to silence their critics.
Julie S.: As a Baby Scoop Era domestic adoptee, reading
the story of Hyoung-Suk Choi and what she had to go through in order to raise
her own child was very difficult. So many of us lost our parents, identities,
and knowledge of ancestry due to society deeming it unacceptable for a unwed
woman to raise a child—not because our mothers didn't want to, or couldn't,
care for us. And to think that this sort of societal pressure on women is still
so strong in South Korea is difficult to accept.
I couldn't help but notice the correlation between domestic
and international adult adoptees who are now speaking out and up about adoption
practices in our countries of origin. And I'm so glad that Joyce included in
the book the efforts of adult adoptees. Our voices are so often the ones that
nobody really wants to hear unless we are talking about how happy and grateful
we are for having been adopted. Sometimes it feels like society never expected
us to grow up and become independent adults who are capable of taking a
critical look at the system that had such a major impact on our lives.
I found this passage to be validating and inspiring: ".
. . adoptees who were once mute recipients of international salvation have
become independent adults and many of them are astute critics of the
international adoption system through their activism, scholarship or
writing."
This is exactly what we are doing as a multicultural group
of adult adopted women here at Lost Daughters.
Mila: Yes, it was very validating that Joyce
acknowledged the adult adoptee voice. And Trenka's and her colleagues' efforts
are an inspiration. Korea is definitely changing, slowly but surely. Karen, you
stated so precisely, "How crazy is this system where the very people who
are most affected by adoption are painted as unstable, voices that shouldn't be
taken seriously in determining adoption policy! Again, this goes back to how
powerful the adoption industry, fueled by huge profits, has become in the U.S.
and how easy it has been for them to silence their critics." Makes me so
frustrated every time I think about it! But also compels me to continue
speaking up. I hope that one day America will listen to adult adoptees with
similar consideration and respect as Korea is learning to do. But just as
Trenka and other Korean adoptees have had to fight so tirelessly to make their
voices heard, we must continue to do so—as Julie expressed, "This is a
exactly what we are doing as a multicultural group of adult adopted women here
at Lost Daughters."