Courage

 Something I’ve heard often when I’ve shared with people that I’ve adopted children through youth protection services is how “courageous” I am. To be honest, it’s something that doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t take it as a compliment, though they mean it as one. I’ll tell them that it’s not courage that led me to adopt a child. In fact, as a gay man, adopting with youth protection is the only option available to me unless I’m willing to lie in order to adopt internationally or spend thousands of dollars on a surrogate (Elton John or NPH I am not) . So not much courage there, just a loss of other avenues. 

But they’ll go on and insist that I am indeed courageous. That it must not be easy to love someone else’s child, that the fear of losing them if their parents came back would be too much for them, etc. At this point I’ll mumble an uncomfortable thanks just to end the conversation. 

I’ve turned this over in my head many times as I keep hearing this word to describe my choice to adopt and the same malaise comes over me. Why? What could be so wrong with hearing that my choice to adopt is seen as a courageous one? Why can’t I swallow the compliment?

One day it finally came to me. The reason why people think it’s courageous to adopt is because they are afraid to open their hearts and homes to a child from youth protection, but why? Having done so myself (twice) I don’t see the fear involved. I see the joy that comes from building a family. Yes, the difficulties that come with working on attachment are there, but they’ll be there for any family. So why this situation in particular? 

The problem, I finally realized, is that people are afraid of the children themselves. And this is what is hurtful to me when I hear them talk about courage. What I hear is how afraid they are of the children I have taken into my life. How they would never be able to do so themselves and my mind goes to how many children the system will continue to fail and not place into permanent, loving homes due to this fear. And this is all based on ignorance and misinformation.

Of course, there’s tons of misinformation about adoption in general out there. When I tell people my two sons are adopted they ask what country they are from. I tell them they are from Montreal. They are incredulous. “I didn’t know you can adopt from here.” They kind of light up as they say this, thinking of themselves or other couples they know looking to adopt. “Yes,” I say, “through youth protection”. “Oh.” And that light in their eyes diminishes. 

In Dan Savage’s book “The Kid” which recounts he and his partner’s ordeals in becoming gay fathers he explains how he opted out of adopting from youth protection as he termed these children as “damaged goods”. 

Damaged goods. Good God, these are children we are referring to who have been failed by parents unwilling or unable to step in and take responsibility for providing a safe, nurturing home for them. Children who long for someone to care for them and are hurt and hurting and wounded. Children who continue to hope and yes, eventually lose that hope after too many adults have failed them. But what is truly damaged here? 

And in this mindset of damaged goods children who are somehow too tarnished to love, beliefs are created about how damaging, violent, aggressive, etc. they are. These beliefs create the need for courage in order to adopt them. These beliefs fuel the questions to me such as “if it doesn’t work out, can you send him back?”

“Shit, no, I lost the receipt.” 

And so it hurts me to hear that my choice to love my children is courageous. What I hear is your ignorance and inability to see beyond your limited belief. I hear you say things like how lucky I am that it worked out. That my children are lucky to have me. I’m seen as some form of saint. 

I’m not. I’m just a gay man who wants a family. And maybe because I had to overcome negative beliefs about being homosexual I’m more practiced at seeing through how hurtful and how false negative beliefs can be. I’m willing to challenge them.

What I am working up to here is a call to greater awareness. A call to overcome fear in order to respond to the needs of children living here, right here in our community who need homes. Maybe believing these children to be monsters helps the guilt for failing them? That it’s too late anyway?

Don’t let it be.