Sunday, July 22, 2012

stuck in the middle

The most poignant part of  my day,  last Wednesday July 18th,   the day the South Australian  parliament apologised for forced adoptions, and this was day jam packed with poignant moments was at the end .  One of the things about human beings I have observed is  that we tend to be very tribal.
 It was heart rendering  for me as I walked up the steps of Parliament house and I noticed the mothers all greeting each other like old friends and mean while around  the periphery,  mostly alone,  searching with that bewildered,  hyper-vigilant gaze we depend upon,  were my fellow adoptees.  We were mostly strangers to each other, searching for  kindred spirits.   The reason  for this difference I saw between the two groups was created because the state government here in South Australia has never funded any services for adoptees to become a cohesive group or have access to counseling.  In contrast the state has provided funding for the mothers for nearly 20 years now.
So as the day progressed ...I met dozens of fellow adoptees, including 3 women  like myself who were both adoptee and mothers.   At stumps , I found myself among  a group of 6 fellow adoptees.   We had all found each other and were immediately relaxed in each others company and busy swapping contacts and laughing and sharing our stories and feelings.   We were a mixed lot  to look at.  We ranged from fair haired, blue eyes, fair skin to very dark skin........   And as  the darkest among  us  said....I am so sick of being in the middle....that lot won't accept me because I am too white and got a private school education and that other lot won't accept me because I'm black.....our little tribe had found each other amongst  the thousands  of people present....We are the 'products' of Australia's very thorough Eugenics experiments.
One of our   group asked us all ...How do you identify?  Our answers were unanimous.....Naturally we all identified with the   culture of the woman whom gave birth to us..... despite  our governments best efforts....


Wednesday, January 4, 2012

The ghost who walks with devil by his side.


My mother Coral who died of a broken heart Age 27
And me.  We only ever got a couple of minutes together, not counting the time I was ‘in utero’ in this lifetime.
When I was young I loved phantom comics.
 The ghost who walks with DEVIL by his side.   Funny that because that’s how it turned out for me.  When I reconnected with my family of origin most of them looked at me exactly as if “I” was invisible and my mother Coral had come back from the dead.  There are many aspects to my life as an adoptee that have had ‘professionals’ looking shocked and even tears as I have recounted them but really when I weigh it all up and look back on 58 years of being an adoptee there are 2 things that just make me look to the sky and shake my fist and say to the great creator ‘give me a break will ya” and they are these.  Number one…….. sharing the same birthday with my pedophile father (the reason for my relinquishment to strangers to rear as their OWN) but even worse than that is the fact that I look so much like my dead mumma that it freaks my siblings and father out…. To the extent that I am mistaken for her and she’s been dead since the early sixties and writing that has just made me realize my mumma missed out on the ‘hippies’ That’s not fair  :((((