Today is a scary day and not just because of mess left in the wake of the little ones traversing the neighborhood dressed as ghosts, goblins, and Elsa. Not just because of the sugar comas and hangovers. Not just because I’ve a paper due tomorrow and have to change it from APA to Chicago formatting (tangent: Why is Chicago formatting even a thing?). But because it’s the start of yet another National Adoption Month.
National Adoption Month was started to remind people of the youth in foster care who want to be adopted. Need to be adopted. Youth who have been removed fro their families and whose legal (not biological not social not emotional, but legal) ties have already been severed. However, over the years that intent has been masked by those who use it instead to encourage infant adoption, to advocate for unethical changes in laws to make domestic and international adoption easier for prospective adoptive families, and to pat themselves on the back for fulfilling their own desires.
This month is often a time when adoptees are ignored and birth parent stereotypes are perpetuated. However, last year the script was flipped. Adoptees around the country and around the world came together and lifted their voices. And I watched. And I cheered. And I retweeted and shared.
This year in addition to the hashtag there are blogging prompts posted on Lost Daughters. I was concerned that by joining it I might be seen as coopting, appropriating if you will, instead of sharing in solidarity. But I was encouraged to participate and so I will. During the month of November I will be blogging using the #FlipTheScript blogging prompts when they apply to me. I will be sharing my view as a birth mom in an open adoption. I will still be encouraging people to listen to adoptees. I will link and retweet and today I share this