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.
