Continued from the previous post.
As politically incorrect as it may sound, as insensitive as it may appear to birth mothers or adult adoptees, the reality I know spells out quite clearly that if the world was a bit more perfect than it is today, there would be more adoptions, not fewer.
When I hear people trashing adoption ... throwing it into the same pot as trafficking and making insinuations about adoptive parents ... I can't help but think of the thousands who have, with nothing but love ... and gratitude, even ... self-inflicted their families with what can easily be described as dangerous and festering wounds that come with the damaged children they seek out to be their own.
I can also far too easily envision happy, healthy adopted kids in the alternate universe that could have been their world ... hungry, ill, hopeless, at best -- at worst, well, that picture has already been drawn. Because of this I can't help but wish whoever it is that chooses to cast adoption as a negative ... as something to be stamped out, done away with, a thing of the past, or even halted while the world gets fixed in the meantime ... could be made to live a month under the conditions they would sentence a child -- thousands of children -- to a lifetime of.
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When people try to shove rubbish like "cultural genocide" down the throats of anyone within contamination distance, or attempt to convince an audience that there's a magical connection that comes with biology, what comes to my mind are the dozens of times I've had mothers try to sell me their child for a pittance ... sometimes for food for other children who are slowly starving, but also too often for drugs or a man ... or give them for nothing; mothers who are so far beyond hope and caring that children are nothing more positive than currency, and too much a burden to keep around for any longer than necessary. Mothers who were themselves sold as children and can only dream of what life as a child of mine, or someone like me ... someone with a heart to mother, not an eye toward profit ... might have been.
When I hear about damaged, bitter souls, broken hearts, lifetimes of regret, secrets, lies, shame, pressure and poor decisions, I can't help but picture brothels that offer baby sex, mines and factories where five-year-olds never see the light of day, garbage dumps full of toddlers roaming in search of bits of cardboard or pieces of string, and the comparison just doesn't wash. Sorrow does not equal starvation and slavery, and resentment is not on a par with torture, disease and a bottomless pit of neglect and cruely.
I've seen enough to understand that the children in orphanages are so very often the extremely fortunate children in a country; they're the ones with hope, an off-chance of survival, and very slight, miniscule odds of a truly happy, healthy life. I know that many of the others ... the ones there is no room for, those living on the streets, or under roofs but at the mercy of others, including those who have biological relations that decide to keep them around for purposes that have nothing whatsoever to do with love ... often truly suffer, and without hope, trapped in whatever circumstance they were born into and sentenced to whatever punishment those circumstances dictate.
It is crystal clear to me that anyone, upon removing their head from whatever warm and confined space they have chosen to view the world and form opinions from, would have to eventually see that in any big picture that extends beyond a relative few individuals, adoption is not only a good thing, but one of the most remarkably wonderful aspects of itself humanity can claim.