Living in Italy always brings out some strange emotions in me.
As an American who happens to speak Italian, I meet a lot of new people all the time. I often feel like a sort of exotic bird (not necessarily in a good way). Meeting new people has never really daunted me. I move around a lot, and have become adept at putting myself out there, shaking new hands, kissing new faces, and making new friends. The only problem is that, invariably, my new friends will want to know about my life.
I lie for as long as it is feasible. I answer questions about my family honestly. I talk about my brother, his children, my parents and my dog. I tell my Italian friends about American traditions, about the city in which I live, and about my family's heritage. I pretend, for as long as I can, that I am not adopted. In a family of dark skinned Italians, my blonde hair and transparent skin usually give me away. But I can chalk that up to the small portion of my family that is Irish. I am 21 years younger than my brother is. I usually just try and convince people that I was a late arrival. One of the biggest reasons I live and study in Italy has to do with the fact that my adoptive family is Italian. But saying that aloud makes me feel like a fraud. My friends, always fascinated by my american documentation, ask to see my passport, which lists my city of birth. Which is clear across the country from the state and city I was raised in my entire life. I can never think of a feasible explanation for why my parents seemingly moved from NYC to Dallas just to have a baby.
But I can only keep this up this charade for so long. After a little while, I begin to feel guilty. I feel like I am hiding something. And I suppose I am. Sooner or later, though, the truth comes out. And when it does, it's always a little depressing.
Adoption does not exist in Italy as it does in the United States. Which, given the influence of the Catholic church, is rather astonishing. But when I explain to my Italian friends that I was adopted, they assume my birthparents have died. Why else would anyone not keep their own child? When I explain that not only are they still alive, but I have ongoing contact with them...the room goes silent.
As the country that surrounds vatican city, abortion is hotly debated in Italy. But adoption simply is not. The phrase 'tenere un bambino' (keeping a baby) refers not to the debate between adoption and parenting, but abortion and parenting. Here, there simply is no healthy medium. Either you kill your baby or you raise it. During a debate with my friend Cinzia, in which we discussed our oppposing views on abortion, the topic of adoption came up. Cinzia is a vehemently pro-choice, athiest, communist. She supports her right not only to abort, but to abort within a timeframe that most people would find distasteful ( 5 months + ) She said to me:
'If I get pregnant, and dont have an abortion, I will have an unhappy motherhood. Thats the only choice. Why would I condemn myself to an unahppy motherhood? It should be the joy of my life.''
When I mentioned adoption as an alternative to parenting (and hated myself for it) she got quiet. She then stated, quite simply,:
''Well...to me that seems like a terrible thing to do. To have your baby and then give it away. What kind of woman does that?''
While I was tempted to ask her what kind of woman believes that casual late terms abortions are 100% morally correct , instead I answered ''What kind of mother gives away her child? Well..mine!''
In a country where my life circumstances are incomprehensible, I struggle to defend my birthfamilys choice. I tell my Italian companions about drug addiction, about lack of family support, about money issues and about the promise of a better life. Of course, they have all those things in Italy. The same social problems exist. And yet, somehow, they are not good enough reasons to not keep your own child. When I tell them that I have reunited with my birthfamily, and that we speak often, my friends are horrified.
''They do not deserve you,'' they say. '' What right do they have? YOU were their child. They gave you away. To have contact with them is to condone what they have done. They should have wanted you. How can you love the family that has abandoned you?''
And every time, I find that there are no easy answers. I find myself believing a little bit of what they say, subscribing to the belief that my biological family has done the unthinkable. And so I retreat within myself. If last time it took 3 weeks for me to tell my friends the (obvious) truth about my family..next time it will take 4. And the time after that, 5. Because although I can tell the story by heart, mimicking the words like a parrot, I cannot find any good reasons, any good excuses. Why have my parents given me away? I know the reasons. And yet when said aloud they seem shallow. And so... I am left without words, unable to explain what is incomprehensible to me.
9 commenti:
Wow Amanda, just wow.
oh amanda, I really envy how you can express disappointment without bitterness, love without conditions, and affection without blindness. a lot of people in the adoption world write some pretty cutthroat things on their blogs. a lot of raw emotion. but somehow your raw emotion comes off as respectful. you write what you feel, amanda, and even though it may be hard for some people to hear-- no one could ever fault you for it.
im sorry you feel that your story is shameful, like its something you have to hide from other people. the knowledge that the choices your famly has made have nothing to do with you is very hard to understand emotionally.
I'm speechless!
You are an old soul. You somehow turn these drastically different experiences and lives into one, beautiful story. Thanks for always making me think and feel. :)
You tell your truth beautifully. There are no words for how I felt reading your post; I am so sorry that you must go through this over and over. It is heartbreaking,and maddening. You are an honorable person, to tell your story in the face of having your friends disapprove and criticize you for loving your birth family, takes courage, compassion, and self-esteem. Adoption permeates everything. Hugs.
you amaze me! i agree with what bethann said... you really are an old soul, dear!
Amanda, Consider this, before you turn your birth family into monsters...in Italy they have one culture, the US another. While you are studying in Italy, embrace the culture, but subsum it? no.
Being dissapointed in the choices made is human. Being dissapointed because someone else thinks you should be, that is not real or realistic.
After all, at minimum, they are not American and they do not really understand the culture and obviously don't see the need to. A little arrogant, no?
Sigh...I am sorry you feel the need to justify yourself and your life and even sorrier that you are allowing others to guide your thinking....
Be well.
Lori:
Nice to hear from you! I always am interested in what you have to say. You tell it like it is, even when it's not easy. Here's a clarification! I've been exposed to Italian culture my whole life (this is not my first extended stay in the country) and I think it's only natural that I draw some comparisons, particularly given the rather extreme response I receive everytime I try and explain this story. To hear the points of view of people who aren't culturally programmed to understand american adoption culture is actually quite refreshing (and often, saddening).
As you pointed out, it's dangerous for me to simply soak up everything I'm told. Assuming that the Italians are right about this particular facet of American culture (a subject on which most of them are not qualified in any sense of the word to comment upon), would be an problematic. But in a country where family life, parenthood, and the church are (traditionally) sacred- it's interesting to hear their input on what can only be called a purposeful breakdown of the family unit.
My biological parents aren't monsters. I read your blog often, and I think you've read mine at least enough to know that I would never say that they are. But they did, regardless of the reasons, make a choice that much of the world would find unpopular. And they did it more than once. Much more than once. Their choice to remove me from their family and give me to another changed every aspect of my life, in good ways and bad ways. The majority of people tell me I should be grateful for what happened, that it all worked out for the best. In some ways I am, and in some ways it has. But I have to admit... it's nice that, at least in Italy, I am given the opportunity to freely express the other side of me. The part that still, after all these years, cannot 100% grasp how my family was so quick to exile me. And how so many people think I should just be happy about it.
I struggle to defend my birthfamilys choice.
In a foreign country, this seems even bigger than defending your parents. As an American, you have to defend/explain the backasswords socially acceptable policy of the entire USA. Not only did your parents give you away but your country condoned it, even funded it! Not only are they shocked at your parents but potentially YOU as an American.
I have had these conversations at length. My husband and I hosted foreign au pairs for 8 years. When the special few found out about my daughter, they were aghast (they hail from Sweden, Germany and Austria). They cannot believe we do not have adequate social systems to support single mothers and would instead, advocate, promote, and fund the legal abandonment of mother and child.
Welcome to America!
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