BLESSINGS ARE FOUND WHEN

BLESSINGS ARE FOUND WHEN ADOPTING

For Black families, adoption could be the answer to finding the perfect family.

It’s commonly known that we men don’t usually open up about our feelings as much a women do. We experience love and loss, triumph and turmoil, yet our significant others, children, and parents feel we don’t talk to them about important aspects of our lives. Something I share openly is that I am adopted — born by two parents, raised by two others. You wouldn’t know I’m an adopted person to look at my family — my mother, Veronica, is a lighter-skinned African American woman, my dad, Willie, was a darker-skinned man of the same race, and my skin tone is between theirs, so I look like I could be their son. I love my parents deeply and I wouldn’t change a thing about my life. We are family thanks to our lived experience, but we share no genetic relation. When I was thirty-six years old, my wife, Michele, gave birth to our son, Seth, introducing me to the first blood relative I had ever known — making him extra special to me. He was the first known branch on a genetic family tree I hadn’t thought much about. His birth drove home the fact that

Written by DAMON DAVIS

Host of the Who Am I Really? podcast (www.whoamireallypodcast.com)Author of Who Am I Really – An Adoptee Memoir Instagram: @WAIReally

As companies become more aware of diversity, Blacks are taking advantage and gaining in executive positions.

three decades before, a woman had given birth to me, she and her family were out in the world somewhere, and I had no idea who they were or where to find them. I was energized to search for my birth family and to gather any information I could obtain about why I was placed for adoption. One of the fallacies of masculinity is that men should not show emotions. It’s not “manly” to be vulnerable, so we suppress our emotions, which can be more stressful than we realize. But opening up about our lives as adoptees may be is exactly what we need to get over what’s eating away at us from the inside. Confronting how we’re feeling, and the effects of our childhood experiences might be the healthy change we need to positively impact who we are.

I knew that launching an adoption reunion search could be a deeply moving experience, but I had no idea it would be such a deeply emotional journey. After a short search, my Baltimore City social worker, Lee, revealed she had shared my introductory letter to my birth mother, Ann, when she found her after a short search. I was ecstatic! Ann had written me a reply letter sharing that she had always prayed for me, never forgotten me, and always hoped I would find her. By the time Lee was finished reading Ann’s words over the phone, my eyes overflowed with tears of joy and relief to know that I made the right decision to search for my roots.

My mind raced with the possibilities for our reunion. When I spoke to Ann that night and I learned she worked close to my office in Washington, DC and confirmed her birthday was the very next day, I knew I had to surprise her with a reunion visit from the son she gave birth to but never saw. The next day I appeared at her office in a suit and tie. We held one another in a tearful embrace and began healing from thirty-six years of love and loss. I was standing before the womn who brought me into the world, and my face and demeanor mirrored hers. We developed a wonderful relationship and she was open about the story of my conception and revealed my birth father’s identity without hesitation. I didn’t look for him until after she passed away, six years after our reunion. When I found the man she named, we had no rapport, the relationship felt uncomfortable and forced, and he eventually cut off our connection. He didn’t get involved

when Ann told him she was pregnant in 1972, so when he severed ties with me, it was a secondary rejection and a low point of despair in my journey. However, in an unexpected and fortuitous twist, my AncestryDNA results revealed that the man Ann had named, whom I had found, was not my birth father. A wonderful new guy named Bill was revealed to be the other half of my parentage. Not every adopted person has such a charming story to share. I’ve spoken to hundreds of adoptees on my podcast “Who Am I Really?” where adoptees share their journeys through adoption and their attempt at reunion with their birth family. The gender split of my guests is about 70 percent women to 30 percent men, a disproportional under-representation of the adoptee community that deserves to be heard — male adoptees need to and should be supporting one another. Our adoption stories vary widely from loving adoptions and awful reunions, to sad, tragic adoptions with incredible reunions, and every combination therein. Some people are driven to search for their birth family while others are petrified to open their life’s box of secrets. Many are perfectly content with the adopted life they’ve lived; they cherish their adoptive family and don’t feel the need to search for something that’s not missing from their life. Everyone’s adoption experience is different, but they’re all similar in their emotional draw on the adopted person. I respect and empathize with every adopted person’s desire to search and reunite, or not to do so and leave their origin story in the past. For me, accidentally finding Bill was a remarkable stroke of luck. I had resigned myself to never meeting my birth father when commercially available DNA testing linked us together. When I finally got on the phone with Bill, he listened intently as I shared the story of how we were connected. I was sure to convey that I didn’t want anything from him except to know the man who contributed to my life. When we finally met, Bill, who was in his mid-eighties, hugged me tightly. I never lacked for love, affection, or connection with my adopted parents, so I never could have guessed that meeting Ann and Bill would fill voids that I didn’t even know I had.

Today, I’m so fortunate to have a podcast where adoptees share their stories for the benefit of other adopted people. But I would love to hear from more men, and especially men of color. For those of you who have been thinking quietly about your adoption or your biological family, I’m inviting you to find a place where you’re comfortable sharing what you’re thinking and feeling. Facebook forums like I Am Adoption, Black Adoptees, and Adoption Search & Reunion are full of adopted people offering support, advice, and search and reunion resources to one another.

There are podcasts you can listen too like Who Am I Really?, Adoptees On, Black To The Beginning, and more. There is a

growing volume of adoption-focused books and adoptee memoirs to read about the intimate details of other adoptees’ journeys. Social media is ablaze with hashtags to follow like #AdopteeVoices that will open a new world for you. Try listening to the experiences of other adoptees to hear what they’ve lived through, understand how they’ve persevered, and gain insights into how they’re moving on with their lives after addressing curiosity about their adoption. There’s a dearth of male adoptee voices speaking out to candidly share their adoption perspective, but I know there are so many stories to tell. Adoptees often say how positively cathartic it is to finally speak honestly about their life with another adopted person, like me, who can empathize with their feelings. There’s healing in finding your truth, sharing your story, and connecting with others about adoption. I hope you’ll take the time to find your connection to the adoptee community and lend your male perspective to the evolving adoption narrative.

I encourage you to re-examine your thoughts about your adoption and any feelings you have about starting a reunion search. Expressing your emotions to other adoptees, loved ones and friends demonstrates personal growth, inner strength, and a commitment to owning your life’s narrative. Confronting the truth about your life and how it has made you feel is one of the most powerful things a man can do. ●