At what age is it wise to let forth the knowledge to the child that he/she is adopted? Should they be told at all? Or should you, in all seriousness, tell them after you die via a leter or recorded message? Should the child have the right to know and the choice to want to discover his/her biological parents, to ask why and know the truth? Anyone here adopted? if yes, how did it feel when you heard of such information?
Adoption?? to tell or not to tell??
- Thread starter sargentlard
- Start date
All I know is what I see on TV sitcoms. I like the image of the family where the kid knows he is adopted and has the nice warm loving phrases like "That means you were chosen" heck it seems even better than being born to somone dosnt it? But then there are the wacky scenarios where a kid is told he is adopted and wackyness ensues.
... I think my point was that honesty is the best policy. Really I dont know why it should seem crule to tell a kid he is adopted, as if adoption is some sort of cruelty the kid was secretly subjected to.
... I think my point was that honesty is the best policy. Really I dont know why it should seem crule to tell a kid he is adopted, as if adoption is some sort of cruelty the kid was secretly subjected to.
I really haven't got much to say on this subject except that telling them in a letter after you are dead seems like a sort of cowardly way of going about it. Makes it seem as though you had meant to tell him in life, but were too much of a chicken. Also it's kind of too late, because if you're their parrent and you are dieing and only tell them just now that he or she is adopted, then their biological parents could well have died of old age by now, or may die of it soon anyway.
I know a number of adopted people. I'd like to ask the opposite question: Is there any good reason NOT to tell a child that she is adopted?
Perhaps in special cases where the background is in some way tragic, it may be best to wait till the adopted person have reached an age where she can begin to understand such things.
Hans
Perhaps in special cases where the background is in some way tragic, it may be best to wait till the adopted person have reached an age where she can begin to understand such things.
Hans
As early as possible
I think I learned I was adopted when I was barely speaking. My brother told me, "Mommy isn't your mommy." Mother said, "Well, then I'm not yours either." And that moment is when she stopped to explain.
Never had a problem with it.
Fast forward to the 1980s. There's an episode of Family Ties (an NBC sitcom starring Michael J. Fox) in which their neighbor Skippy learns he's adopted. I still remember my Dad turning off the TV after that episode and wanting to talk to my brother and I about being adopted and what that meant and whether we had any questions. It was the first time in my life, somewhere around ten years old, that being adopted was ever treated like a big thing. Actually, there was once before that but it slipped by me at the time, and I would recall it during that conversation.
Strangely, though, over the years, it's become quietly significant, as there's a few family secrets buried about the identity of my biological parents. Maybe they should have told the whole truth instead of leaving a fairly obvious part for a teenage conscience to dissect and an adult conscience to recognize as plain as day. Adoption becomes a more serious question for the child when there is an element of deception or incompleteness about their knowledge.
In the end, facing a partner who had to get stupendously drunk to tell me she was pregnant, not actually being in on the discussion of whether or not she would "keep" the baby, my first actual participation in the discussion was when I put my foot down and said, "We're keeping this baby? Then we're keeping this baby." In the end, I flatly refused to even consider shipping this child out.
To the other, she is my first known blood relative on the planet. (My biological mother is Jane Doe.) What? Who in the hell thinks I would give that away?
I think I learned I was adopted when I was barely speaking. My brother told me, "Mommy isn't your mommy." Mother said, "Well, then I'm not yours either." And that moment is when she stopped to explain.
Never had a problem with it.
Fast forward to the 1980s. There's an episode of Family Ties (an NBC sitcom starring Michael J. Fox) in which their neighbor Skippy learns he's adopted. I still remember my Dad turning off the TV after that episode and wanting to talk to my brother and I about being adopted and what that meant and whether we had any questions. It was the first time in my life, somewhere around ten years old, that being adopted was ever treated like a big thing. Actually, there was once before that but it slipped by me at the time, and I would recall it during that conversation.
Strangely, though, over the years, it's become quietly significant, as there's a few family secrets buried about the identity of my biological parents. Maybe they should have told the whole truth instead of leaving a fairly obvious part for a teenage conscience to dissect and an adult conscience to recognize as plain as day. Adoption becomes a more serious question for the child when there is an element of deception or incompleteness about their knowledge.
In the end, facing a partner who had to get stupendously drunk to tell me she was pregnant, not actually being in on the discussion of whether or not she would "keep" the baby, my first actual participation in the discussion was when I put my foot down and said, "We're keeping this baby? Then we're keeping this baby." In the end, I flatly refused to even consider shipping this child out.
To the other, she is my first known blood relative on the planet. (My biological mother is Jane Doe.) What? Who in the hell thinks I would give that away?
This intrigued me.
Why would a family decieve the innocent child or even want to?
Why tell them half the truth?
Mystech, Sargentlard
Mystech
My family finally became "normal" when they admitted that we were a dysfunctional unit. That took until I was 25 for them to figure out. I feel badly for the years of stress, but I didn't choose it to be that way.
And what's even stranger, Mystech, is that while I find my family bizarre, I find them bizarre in the same way I find most humans bizarre. If I subtly prod around, I will find that they're not that unusual.
My family seems bizarre because most people avoid the issues I see in family; despite these being very common issues, discussion of the issues is still rare, reserved, and generally masked and dishonest.
Sargentlard
The short answer is that while my biological parentage is listed as Does, some of us are pretty sure who one half of that equation was. In 1972, when I was conceived, adultery was even more scandalous than it is today, and knocking up one of your high school students ... now there is a scandal.
I think they worried too much about what to tell me, cast a few too many lies, and found themselves obliged. They didn't slip up until I was about 16 or 17, when the ethnicities of my biological parenthood was suddenly reversed in order to hide the identity of my biological father. My mother still thinks she's fooling people. My father won't admit to anything, but he no longer cares. I figure he'll 'fess up on his deathbed.
And it's not the family itself which makes me strange, but rather socialization. Watch a few people who are like you be argued about as if they were subhuman (e.g. property to be owned) and it changes your attitude. Live daily in a social setting that expects you to be constantly aware of things like this, and it does in fact affect your perspective.
I would think Mystech, of all people, would be capable of recognizing that.
Here's an interesting notion: Apparently, my adoption carried an agreement that I must be given a religious education at some point. I'm sure a few people around here know what it's like to live without the proper protection of Constitutional guarantees. But by the time I considered a private school, Jesuits weren't that far-out an idea.
People lie to their children because what they perceive the truth as threatening is more important to them than the children.
Mystech
Indeed they do. And it's sort of strange. And it's true, isn't it, Mystech? Adultery is really weird and uncommon, isn't it? And lying about it? Nobody ever does that, do they?
They are rather hard to explain. It would take more words than you're willing to read.
I've learned to not blame them. People can't do much about ignorance except learn, and sometimes that takes a while. And for them ... well, I go for the comparative: my father was surprised by the collapse of his own ethics and values; my brother liked certain identity labels but not the attributes that go with them (he finally had to admit he's not a Republican, a strangely significant transition); my mother has undergone the transition from a woman of the "old America" into a woman of the modern world--they're all very different people compared to 10 years ago. The only really sad thing about it is that the transitions involved them asking questions they'd already ridiculed, so they had some knots of conflict in their consciences. And by the time you get around to watching with intrigue as people thrash helplessly against their own self-established and self-perceived hypocrisy and actually feel hope that they'll figure it out instead of the daily dose of disgust at the futility ... well?
My family finally became "normal" when they admitted that we were a dysfunctional unit. That took until I was 25 for them to figure out. I feel badly for the years of stress, but I didn't choose it to be that way.
And what's even stranger, Mystech, is that while I find my family bizarre, I find them bizarre in the same way I find most humans bizarre. If I subtly prod around, I will find that they're not that unusual.
My family seems bizarre because most people avoid the issues I see in family; despite these being very common issues, discussion of the issues is still rare, reserved, and generally masked and dishonest.
Sargentlard
The short answer is that while my biological parentage is listed as Does, some of us are pretty sure who one half of that equation was. In 1972, when I was conceived, adultery was even more scandalous than it is today, and knocking up one of your high school students ... now there is a scandal.
I think they worried too much about what to tell me, cast a few too many lies, and found themselves obliged. They didn't slip up until I was about 16 or 17, when the ethnicities of my biological parenthood was suddenly reversed in order to hide the identity of my biological father. My mother still thinks she's fooling people. My father won't admit to anything, but he no longer cares. I figure he'll 'fess up on his deathbed.
And it's not the family itself which makes me strange, but rather socialization. Watch a few people who are like you be argued about as if they were subhuman (e.g. property to be owned) and it changes your attitude. Live daily in a social setting that expects you to be constantly aware of things like this, and it does in fact affect your perspective.
I would think Mystech, of all people, would be capable of recognizing that.
Here's an interesting notion: Apparently, my adoption carried an agreement that I must be given a religious education at some point. I'm sure a few people around here know what it's like to live without the proper protection of Constitutional guarantees. But by the time I considered a private school, Jesuits weren't that far-out an idea.
People lie to their children because what they perceive the truth as threatening is more important to them than the children.