Ethiopian Adoptee: Personal Narrative Analysis

When I was eight years old I would question my mom on if I was adopted or not. I got the subject of conversation from little kids I used to play with when I was younger they would ask me why I looked so different from my mom and brother but I could never give a solid answer because I myself didn’t even know. I have an older sister and brother, my sister is dark skin and my brother is a light skin like my mom. Radisha my eldest sister was gone for four years due to personal issues, so I only had my mom and brother and because they were both light skin I would ask why I didn’t look like them. Mother had told me it was because I looked like my father and when my sister had come home it had all made

When I was five years old, my mom told me that there were some children who didn’t have moms. I was shocked, and told my mother frankly that I’d be their mom. Caring for children with early trauma has been the driving passion of my life. When I was six and again when I was eight, my parents adopted children from Vietnam. Having siblings who were born and orphaned in another country put a very personal face for me on human rights and child welfare issues around the world. I’ve spent the last four years working for the International Foster Care program at Catholic Charities Fort

On January 29, 2001 at around four o’clock in the afternoon, a beautiful little girl named Leslie Arreaga was born. It was the first time I was able to hold and see a baby so up close. When I saw her for the first time I didn’t know what to say. All I told my parents was “ I love her and she is perfect.” My parents laugh at me because I was only four years old when she was born. I just couldn’t believe that I was finally an older sister. I remember that every time a person would come in and try to hold her I would give them a look saying “ If you hurt her, I will hurt you.” Leslie was the most precious little baby I had ever seen in my little four year life. She was so chubby, with big brown eyes and a little heart shaped mouth. The day my

One day in August 2013 I woke up ate my breakfast got ready for work just like every other day. Not realizing this day was going to change my life forever. Around noon that day I received a call from my wife, she said do you think we can take care of the neighbor’s child who was eight-months old for a little while. I sat there for a few minutes and then I replied yes that would be alright not realizing that little while would be months to years. I had no knowledge of kinship care, foster care, foster children, or adoption. My wife or I did not even know what the concept was when you have a foster child in your home. This was the first time in over ten-years I had been responsible for an infant in my home, throughout all the shock I still was positive that we could help this child and his mother with reunifying and him getting to go home. The first morning I woke up at 5:30 am and made him a bottle and some oatmeal cereal, it became my morning routine with him waking up and feeding him for next few months, before I could sleep till 7:30 or so before heading to work. My wife and I rearranged our lives to welcome another child into our heart and lives.

Imagine a couple flying millions of miles to adopt two children who have been abandoned by their parents. They gave me a second chance at a better life in the US. It all started in 2001, Saint Petersburg Russia, Carrie and Brendan flew over the seas. Traveled to a tiny town called Luga to pick up my brother and I. I was dressed in a child's dress and two hot pink bows. I was too young to remember most of these events but I’ve been told many times how it went. I was very curious when my parents came to meet me in the orphanage that I stayed in.

I am an Eritrean national who was born and grew up in Eritrea. My parents are from poor background. I have five siblings (Two sisters and three brothers).

In my life I’ve had a lot of ups and downs. I’ve been adopted three times, my father past away when I was nine, and my mom just gave up. My mom and dad weren’t the best of parents. But I still loved them. When I was three a lady named Nicole adopted me and my sister Brittany . By the age of five her best friend Charity adopted me. That is when me and my two sisters were all split up for good. My sister Ashley was adopted by my uncle Gary down in Georgia and Brittany stayed with Nicole.

It was spring time then, all the snow had melted already, and the flowers were blossoming. I walked over to his house, knocked on his door, and hoped it was him that answered the door. I was lucky he felt the same way about me as I did about him. It was love at first site; we saw each other every day from that day forward. We were so in love, then the day came. The day my future adoptive parents came into the orphanage. They were a lovely couple in their forties. They didn’t have any children of their own. They worked successful jobs instead and focused on their careers. It was past their time to have children of their own, and they thought they were too old to take care of a baby. They were looking for a teenager, they were looking for a girl like me. They wanted a girl around my age, and guess what? I was the only teenage girl in that

Inspiration does not simply come to the mind like a dog to a whistle. discovering something inspiring that opens up a new mindset takes time, reason, and sometimes it even takes facing hardships. Events and experiences occur every second to humankind, and they can cause an impact so large that it changes or dramatically shapes them as an individual. Countless children are adopted as infants, ready to be taken home to a young, newlywed couple that have hearts big enough to hold you in their warmth forever. This wishful fantasy was not in my deck of cards, but it did play out in my favor in the long run nonetheless. My adoption story has inspired me to become a person who only wants to show appreciation for those around me.

My family has undergone adverse circumstances, which has resulted in intergenerational trauma. My sister had three children who were removed from her care and placed for closed adoption, as a result of her ongoing mental health challenges. When my first nephew was born, I re-experienced significant traumatic childhood events; he was placed into protective care. I was not aware of the apprehension plan. As someone who was invested in this child’s life, I stepped up to be a significant family member. At the time I was the only family member able to have visitation with him, thus stepping into a maternal role. His birth and eventual adoption was a turning point in my life. It forced me into a position where I had to become completely estranged from my biological family. At that moment, I decided I needed to be a part of changing the social injustices I experienced and witnessed through obtaining a bachelor of social work.

At the age of seven months I was adopted from the Gladney Center for Adoption in Fort Worth, Texas to the most loving family I could ask for. However, despite the immense love I have for my them, there are times when society forces me to come to terms with the fact that I don't share biological ties with my parents or even my extended family and it’s a constant reminder that I’m different from not only my parents but also the majority of our

My adoptive dad passed in the late 80’s, my adoptive mom is in her later years of life and I have become her caregiver, my husband and I live with her and while it has been difficult at times she has memory issues among other health issues that goes along with those her age it has given us the chance to deal with some past issues and we get along great. But in 2011, my life was turned completely upside down again but this time in a good way. Knowing from a young age that I was adopted, I knew my birth mothers name and looked for her on/off through the years, but during winter break from school in Dec 2011, I was bored and typed her name into Facebook, and there she was. I contacted her on there mainly at this point looking for medical information, instead I now have this huge family that I never knew and it has been a never ending rollercoaster ride that I am still on to this day, it is one of those stories that best

At the age of twelve years old, I lost my mother due to liver disease. Came home from school just to see her take her last breathe. She was laying there with a family picture in her hands. I never saw someone turn blue as their eyes turned yellow. The warmth of her body was slowly leaving as she was turning cold. I laid next to her and asked her to get up or say something to me, she laid their so stiff and quiet. It felt so unreal. I didn’t know our last hug and kiss was going to be so cold. I didn’t know what to say or think, all I felt were tears coming down my face. My siblings and I missed a couple days of school due to the funeral arrangements and the mourning of our mother. A few weeks later, I came home from school with the devastating news that my father along with three of my siblings were deported back to Mexico. I was left with my fourteen year old sister, with no family in the United States that could have come to our rescue. I sat in my parent’s room and looked at our family pictures. All the family memories kept rushing through my head. I felt numb and empty wondering if I was still alive or was this the feeling you feel when you’re dead. There were only two questions in my head how will my sister and I survive? Will I make it to see the next day?

My brother and I were abandoned when he was 6 months old. One morning my father was making me chocolate chip pancakes and the next, I was alone. Imagine a five year old calling 911 saying your parents were abducted by aliens. That’s what I wanted to believe. After I turned 10, I realized that every prayer wasn’t worth it. My parents were never coming back. My brother and I were taken to Child Services the next day and we sent to Billy and Jen’s house, me scared little 5 year old about to take on a world of responsibilities. We got home and Billy gave me a puppy and told me that she was there for me when they weren’t and to take care of my brother. They left me there for a week,  so I called Miss Tammy, the child services lady and she took me to a new home. We stayed there until I turned 13. It was a group home and they gave us food, shelter, and, educational opportunities. But no true compassion or a parent like figure. When I realized that we were never going to get the love we deserve, I took Kade in the middle of the night and found an abandoned condo. It had all the amenities that a

Pulled away from my two little brothers who were placed with a family who moved to Western Australia. Tess, my social worker asked the family if they would take me as well, but they only wanted boys.