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....

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  :((((

The day I had the senators ears.

I kicked the bald tyres on my faithful 'Beddie' and  as the sun is gathering strength so do I and I'm off to spend the day with Senator Rachel Siewert, Senator Claire Moore and Senator Judith Adams.

The wicked witch from the south

I spoke to the Senators and felt proud that I spoke to them openly and on the public record.  All other adopted people spoke 'in camera' which means in private but we all agreed we could be each other witnesses so we stayed in the room while we each told our stories.   Everybody else but the Senators and secretary and recorders had to  leave the room.  There was one adoptee who came later and spoke to the Senators without any witnesses other than her own support people.
I told them I had a dream.  A dream to stand in front of which ever legal minds need to be put into gear to get over the sheer ridiculousness of not legally being my sister's sister.
Are you confused ?  Good because I am, but we get that when we are adoptees. 
My two sisters, one elder and one younger.  Our parents were married in the catholic church when we were all born.    I was the only one to be relinquished at birth to genetic stranger adoption.  I want to go to the court and ask those learned legal minds who's LAW is right and just and for real?  Their ridiculous man made adoption laws that leave me as a legal stranger to my sisters, forever, or the law of nature that means we are sisters.  We share the same mother and father and I love them dearly, and I am so proud to be their sister. 
And the science will back us up in the court of law.  There is our DNA your hon-ours, so what do you say to that?
Two of the senators looked surprised when I explained to them that the authorities here in SA can take our  DNA and keep it on file even if we have committed NO CRIME. We might be the victim of a crime ! We talked about DNA certificates for new-born people.  Everybody has the right to their lives being based in the truth, surely.
My day with the senators yesterday ended up the way days such as yesterday often do.  I walked out of the building long after most everyone else had left.  I am in the company of two fellow Indigenous Australians, all three of us had been adopted into the dominant culture.  I'm so glad I stayed.  It was a privilege to  witness  other people's strength as they shared their journeys.   The senators seemed to be genuinely appreciative of the huge 'journey' we've been on to get to the point of talking to them.   We laugh, we share, I feel comfortable, in my skin.  My fair skin and blue eyes ensured I remained invisible, even to myself and then I come across people I feel connected to and I don't feel like an 'outsider', abandoned by my mother and abandoned again by the dominant culture, the one that has so cruelly tried to meld me into  their image.  I am not an alien any longer, I'm a dink-um Aussie OI.
And I now understand there is a difference between what happened to Aboriginal and Torres strait Islander children and those with a European background.