I recently read a thriller by an established novelist with more than a dozen books under her belt. There is a teenaged male character in the book, and the reader learns he is being lied to about his parentage. The character never learns this. In another book I read recently, this one non-fiction, the author in passing mentions one of her white subjects cared deeply about social justice, as evidenced by his having adopted black children. 

As an adoptee, I am troubled by these books and others like them. 

Adoptees are a marginalized group. We represent just 2% of the U.S. population. Many of us are additionally marginalized through the intersectionality of race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, gender identity, and physical and cognitive abilities. 

We lack the basic human rights enjoyed by non-adopted people. Adoptees born in the majority of states (36 as of 2023) are prohibited access to the truth of our parentage. This is also true of adoptees adopted trans-nationally, many of whom, being brought to the U.S. as infants and small children without their consent, lack citizenship. 

Ignorance and/or misunderstanding of the science behind the parent/child bond is detrimental to our mental health. Adoptees are 4x more likely to attempt suicide than non-adoptees, and we are over-represented in mental health and treatment facilities. 

Transracial adoption is not a form of social justice. The 24 billion dollar adoption industry is still today rife with unethical practices, white supremacy, racism, colonialism, classism, ableism, and misogyny, and in no way aligns with principles of social justice.

Adoptees deserve accurate and empathetic media representation. 

I am asking those privileged with publishing contracts, especially those writing a marginalized group’s lived experience that is not their own, not to further the harm inflicted upon us through the use of oversimplified plot devices, tropes, industry propaganda, and the co-option of our voices. 

This goes also for those with the privilege of choosing whose voices to amplify via publishing platforms including, but not limited to, agents, editors, and publishers. When faced with a story featuring an adoptee, I would urge you to interrogate the author’s position vis-à-vis that adoptee, even if fictional. Investigate whether the author is an adoptee themselves, or whether they have voluntarily opted into and/or profited from the adoption industry from their position of privilege. Ask yourself whether this person is seeking to continue to profit and privilege themselves by virtue of centering their voice, or inserting it in place of the underprivileged group. Demand of your author the same level of independent research and understanding into the issues surrounding adoption as you would demand for any other marginalized group.

Thank you for taking the time to read this statement, and please support adoptee authors.