Category Archives: Misognyny

Anguish in Adoption

Is anguish felt by relinquishing mothers? Apparently not. Is it felt by APs who discover their beloved children were actually stolen? By late discovery adoptees? By twins separated by adoption? Not judging by the article we’ll be reading today. Adoption anguish is for rich foreigners who want to take advantage of impoverished Indian women by buying their reproductive abilities.

Anguish is for people who have no babies…and no hearts. Anguish is for those who have the luxury of turning down less than perfect babies. Anguish is for *pederasts. Anguish is for “fertility specialists” who find the exploitation of poor women “beautiful” as well as profitable. It’s for the woman whose “only option” is to rent a womb because the world owes her a baby of her own. It’s for her husband, who spouts the old tired bullshit about how purchased children “will have a more loved life because their parents have made so much of an effort to obtain have them.” He adds “It would be madness to ban it.”

Madness to consider the exploitation of human incubators. Madness to consider changing a society that doesn’t value poor women. Madness for him and his wife not to get what they want at a cut-rate price (even thought their willingness to pay is what suposedly makes them such superior parents). Surrogates, the article points out, exist in other, richer countries. They simply expect to be paid a much larger fraction of what their time, trouble and suffering are worth.

Who cares if the human incubator signed a contract she never got a copy of? Who cares if she didn’t realize until the time came to give birth that she is going to undergo a C-section instead (like it or not)? Who cares if she is “not paid the promised amount and lack[s] health insurance if things go wrong”?

It’s fine to exploit women and reduce them to objects if they are poor and couldn’t get the money any other way. Most enlightened liberals I know say similar things about prostitutes and porn actresses–but, oddly enough, never about minimum wage workers, sweatshop workers, or migrant workers who keep fruit prices low by working for less than minimum wage. Those people, they all agree, are being exploited, and something should be done about it. Somehow it’s only the women whose reproductive organs are for sale who cannot feel anguish. They are simply exercising their rights and making their choices.

*An old-fashioned term to be sure, but one I must prefer to “pedophile,” which implies that baby-rapers love their victims.



Filed under AdoptoLand, Colonialism ROCKS!, Misognyny, NaBloPoMo, Those Wacky PAPs

No, really: Stop. Doing. This.

Here’s another image floating around FB for National Adoption Month.


Fuck David Sitton. Fuck him right in the ear.

One of the saddest things about this patriarchal world is that so many men can feel so much more empathy for an embryo that lacks thoughts and feelings than they can for a living, breathing, thinking, feeling pregnant woman who does not want to be pregnant.


Filed under Jesus Told Me To, Misognyny, NaBloPoMo, Sad and beautiful, Stop Saying That

How Dare You?

IIRC, Susan Faludi discovered in an interview she did for Backlash that Randall Terry got the idea for Operation Rescue after his infertile wife took to hanging around the local abortion clinic holding a sign that read “Don’t Kill Your Baby–Give It To Me.” I feel very sorry for anyone, infertile or no, who got married to Randall Terry, but the sentiment drives me nuts. And it just…won’t…go…away. This popped up on a couple of adoption-related FB groups I frequent recently.fuuuuckyouuuuuuuu(It made me so mad I downloaded it under the title “Fuuuck youuuuuuuuuuu.”)

“God loves you and your baby.” Translation: We don’t love you. We think you’re an incubator. Too bad God doesn’t love you enough to fix your life so you could raise your own baby, if that’s why you’re aborting. Truth is, we don’t care why you’re aborting. Women’s lives are never complicated, and certainly not by such easy-peasy little ol’ events as pregnancies and child rearing. Women don’t actually have feelings. Well, women like the wonderful Christian lady in the photo do, but the kind of woman who even considers having an abortion? Pffft. Fuck them. Er, I mean, God loves you!

“Don’t abort!” Translation: Don’t carry on with the twenty-minute, actually-safer-than-pregnancy-and-childbirth procedure you decided on long before you had to encounter our righteous asses on the way to your appointment. Do what we, two strangers who know nothing about your life, want you to do!

“We will adopt your baby!” Translation: Come on, just devote the next several months of your  life to making a human being out of your flesh and blood and bones? Pwease? Risk your health, perhaps even your life, just because we asked you to? Pleeeease? And then give birth and hand over the baby to us? We’ll be your best friends, honest.

“Come talk to us!” Translation: We don’t give a flying fuck about you, but you have something we want. Come on, Girl! C’mere! [whistles] That’s a good girl, who’s a goood girl?

How dare you people, whoever you are? If you think she’s aborting because she can’t afford a baby, how dare you attempt to prey on her instead of doing the truly Christlike thing: offering to help? If you think she’s aborting because she’s alone and scared, or can’t face her parents, how fucking dare you decide this is a situation for you to gain from rather than offering to help? If you think she’s a beloved child of God and your sister in Christ, why can’t you have the least speck of empathy for her and offer to help? How dare you see her as less human than the embryo you believe she’s carrying? (She might be going to the women’s health center for any number of other reasons, you know.)

How dare you expect anyone to give you a baby to raise?

And how dare you call an embryo a baby? You fucking well know better.


Filed under General Ignoramitude, Jesus Told Me To, Misognyny, NaBloPoMo, Stop Saying That, Those Wacky PAPs, You're going to Hell for this.

A Strange, Sad, Question I Hope No One Has Asked

Do Adoptive Families Respect Birth Mothers? is an author-not-listed page on a not-at-all-coercive baby-trolling site called “Adoption For My Baby” (sorry, “ADOPTION FOR MY BABY”). This essay is horrible. It’s really, truly awful. Content warning: “Birth mother,” “birth mother” used to signify a woman who has not relinquished for adoption, coercion, falsehood, mountains of smarm, and disregard for any and all forms of human decency.

This bizarre question, essay aside, makes the spiky urchin very sad. It makes me sad because I can’t imagine asking it unless I were already half-coerced into doing an adoption I didn’t want to do. I can only imagine a woman thinking: OK, I’ve accepted that my baby will be better off without me because I’m single and/or poor, like society says. I’ve accepted that the solution for this is to pick a pretty couple out of a book, let them lovebomb me for a few months and then give them my child and let them name it and raise it, possibly with some input/contact from me.

I’ve accepted all that. I very possibly feel dead inside. But…but will they at least…respect me in the morning? Is there just one tiny emotional crumb I can get out of them in exchange for my flesh and blood?

Any woman who has ever asked herself this question can judge how respected she’ll be by noting that this article about how respected she’ll be starts out by talking about someone else’s feelings:

All girls are born with the same dream.* By playing “house” and with baby dolls, this dream is acted out at a very young age that follows them into adulthood. Then one day the girl awakes from her dream as a woman and finds herself as what she has always wanted to become: a mother. But […]

You may be wondering about now whether I was wrong and this really is about the “birth mother.” Wonder no more:

But what happens if the dream of being a mom is crushed because of problems with infertility? Where does the woman turn next?

Yanno, just the other day I was talking to a friend about a thing I did that I’m not proud of. I asked, “Do you still respect me?” and she said, “Do you have any idea how wonderful and deserving this other person is?” and let me tell you, it perked me right up.

And we all know where the woman turns next: Anywhere, in sheer desperation. If she has money, maybe she’ll pursue IVF or a rent-a-womb in India or the adoption of a real true orphan from an exotic, foreign land.

But if she isn’t willing to settle for anything less than a white, healthy, newborn, and if she must…if she MUST…she’ll turn to you, or any other pregnant woman/girl who isn’t sure how she’ll get along after she has her baby. You, or her, or that lady over there, or someone else. Whoever picks them out of a book of Superbest Wannabe Adopters. You feel respected already, don’t you?

She turns to you, the birth mother of her future adopted child – the one who can once again make her dreams come true.

That is, after all, your purpose in life: The production of a baby for people more worthy than you are. Have you ever felt more respected?

For all of us, the more we struggle to get something, the more we value it and the less we take it for granted. This is undeniably true with infertile couples who see their baby slipping further and further away after every unsuccessful course of fertility treatments. Many infertile couples spend years and tens of thousands of dollars seeking help from a fertility specialist […].

And this is why, in the history of Everything, there have never been any adoptive parents who went to all that trouble for bad reasons (Hi Masha Allen!), or went to all that trouble and then ditched the kids with strangers (Hi excellent series of Reuters articles!), or put them on a plane back to Russia, or killed them outright (Hi 15-20 Russians and scores of assorted other dead adoptees!). No, USAians love our mone–um, er, our children more than that!

And yes, this essay did just compare your child to any other purchased item or monetary investment. Your child is like a house or car. And not just any car: a car people promise not to mess up because, while they totally didn’t buy that car, they did have to wait in line at the DMV and pay taxes and they will have to spend a lot on insurance and maintenance the way people who did buy cars have to do.

However, once they decide to pursue adoption and when they finally receive a child, the fertility treatments, years waiting and money spent was all worth it, because of you.

Don’t you feel sorry for them, very possibly-poor and single and desperate “birth mother”? Those tens of thousands of dollars they spent–and no baby, which they are obviously owed because it is obviously theirs. You can feel the waves of respect washing over you, can’t  you? Do you suppose they would have felt the same kind of “respect” for their fertility doctor had the IVF worked? I mean, like you, and like the test tubes and laboratory equipment, the doctor would have served his or her complete purpose by producing a baby for them, right?

Naah. Doctors are actually, already, nigh universally respected. A medical professional who did his best to get a couple a baby and failed to deliver while taking tens of thousands of their dollars expects respect, even takes it for granted. Maybe women considering relinquishing a child should, too.

Every adoptive family is exactly the same in one very important way: Their adopted child is the light of their lives.

Yes, every single one, as we discovered above.

They love the child as much or even more than they would a biological child because of the painful journey it took to finally become parents.

Every. Single. One. Every adoptive parent is not only as good as, but probably superior to, a natural parent. And yet most people, while claiming to want what’s best for their children, refuse to give them away. Funny that.

Also, this “painful journey” stuff…does it also mean that women who were in labor for the longest time love their kids the most? Does it mean that parents who fucked without birth control three times before she conceived love their kids three times as much? What if a woman were in a car wreck on the way to the hospital and she gave birth in the middle of the road with a broken arm, a ruptured spleen and a concussion: best love ever, right? If that were true, then PAPs who wanted to love their child lots and lots would selflessly decline at least the first child they were offered…so as to make their journey even longer and more painful…so they could love the next kid that much more.

That is why any family you choose will place your child on the highest pedestal

Stop that. No human being belongs on a pedestal. Also, shouldn’t the very respected “birth mother” be standing there if anyone? This article is about her, right?

and will provide him or her with as many opportunities as possible. Your child will have loving parents, a stable household, a good education and countless other opportunities that adoptive families literally can’t wait to share with your child.

Swimming pool, pony, blah blah blah. You can’t buy those things, can you, “birth mother”? You couldn’t even trap a man to help you raise your little bastard (sorry, but how else am I supposed to interpret “loving parents” and “stable household”?). You can’t even afford private school, you worm.  But we respect you so so so much. Nope: Tearing a woman down is not respecting her. This should be obvious to anyone.

There is one opportunity, however, that is bigger and requires more love than all of those combined: The opportunity you provided your child by deciding to place him or her for adoption.

Again, your inability to send your kid to **Stanford makes rich people respect you very, very, much. That’s how our patriarchal, capitalistic system works: It values the poor and the powerless above all others. (And gosh, we’re not asking you to do this to make US happy, no, no, no! do it for the baby! do it for YOURSELF! Help us help you.)

This selfless act will be remembered for the rest of your child’s and the adoptive parents’ lives. You will be thought of not just on holidays and birthdays, but every day, because every time the adoptive parents interact with the child, they will remember the blessing you provided them.

Maybe they’ll put up a little shrine on top of the toilet tank…. I know damned well my APs did not think of my first mother “every time they interact[ed]” with me. Were they grateful for the blessing the stranger provided them? Yes! Is that the same thing as actually thinking about the stranger every time you see your child, hear your child, speak to your child, change your child’s diaper, drive your child to school, etc? No. Is thinking about the stranger the same thing as respect? No. Does being “respected” by people who are nowhere near you help you? I mean, if an AP respects you in the woods and you never know about it, is that respect? No.

Because of their own emotionally draining journeys, adoptive families are empathetic of the pain and grief birth mothers endure throughout the adoption process.

It’s true. You can read all about that empathy here and here and here and here. That empathy is all over the internet if you know where to look for it. The fact is, “birth mother,” some P/APs who haven’t even met you yet already resent you to the point of hatred.

Also, this is a failure of logic. “I never had a baby, so I know how it feels to lose one” makes as much sense to me as “I’m a mugger, so I really empathize with people who have had their wallets stolen” or “I’m rich as hell, so I really empathize with people who struggle to pay their bills.” Sorry, but I don’t believe you do.

They know it is bittersweet that the most exciting day of their lives coincides with one of the most difficult days of yours. That is the reason adoptive families treasure birth mothers, and the love, courage and generosity they exhibit throughout the adoption process.

No, it isn’t. They “treasure” you, whatever the fuck that means, because you have something they want. And there’s no guarantee they’ll go on treasuring you once they get it. But they sure can talk pretty:


Their relationship and respect of the birth mother often result in the birth mother becoming an extended part of their family. Many adoptive families are excited to maintain a relationship with the birth mothers, depending on what is most comfortable for you.

Women considering adoption, do not believe for a second that this is ever going to be about what’s comfortable for you. Wouldn’t it be more comfortable for you to raise your own child and have the resources to do so? And yet no couple is offering you that, are they? If you’re considering “open adoption,” you should know that it is not legally enforceable in (last I checked) forty-nine states. APs can and have cut “birth mothers” out of their children’s lives for “interfering,” for wanting too much input or information, or because they planned to do so all along and played pregnant women for months–all the while professing their respect, even love. Oh yes they have. They say it’s best for the child. They say it’s a decision they made because it was right for their family–you know, the one you’re a member of. And there’s nothing you’ll be able to do about it.

Jerry and Lisa as well as the rest of their friends and family are one example of thousands of adoptive parents whose lives were made complete by the birth mother. Jerry and Lisa and their extended family will always view the birth mother Lona as a blessing.

“We hope (Lona) realizes that she filled a tremendous void in our lives and we will thank her for the rest of our lives,” Jerry writes. “Our entire family and all of our friends only with they could have had the chance to personally tell her ‘thank you.’ We want her to know that she is loved and respected by so many people. She is truly a remarkable lady and will forever be a member of our family.”

The author filled in “(Lona)” above because Jerry, in his his expression of love and respect for the mother of his child, didn’t use her name once in this paragraph. He wrote “she” instead, every time. And when Jerry says he “hope[s] she realizes” and wishes he “could have told her,” he raises two points. One: Sure sounds like this adoption is closed. Unless Lona insisted on that, which is stated nowhere, Jerry and Lisa want nothing to do with her. They don’t give a shit whether she realizes anything, this member of their family they apparently never met. Two: he implies that silly Lona maybe doesn’t know what a serious thing she did in relinquishing her own flesh and blood. Because geez, “birth mothers”…can they really love kids the way you and I do?

Heads up, anyone who’s considering being a “birth mother:” this is what at least one adoptive couple thinks is sufficient “love” and “respect” for you as their “family member.” Words have meanings, but Jerry doesn’t give a shit. I suspect he said anything he had to say to get Lona’s child, and that now he’s saying anything he has to say to help himself look and feel good about that.

Birth mothers like Lona are the heroes of thousands of families who all share the same sentiment: The child’s birth mother is one of the most loving, unselfish and caring individuals on the planet, and she is the reason that their family is whole.

The slaughter of Native Americans is the reason the USA exists. Some of them greeted the white invaders with friendship and gifts. Some white people even have “Indian heroes.” Look how much we respect them! See, in this world, when individuals who don’t have much power are loving and caring and unselfish, they not only get the shaft, they get it extra hard. They get to be cartoons and costumes and sports team mascots.  And when they complain these things disrespect them, those with power insist that this mockery is respect. If you’re considering being a “birth mother,” is that the kind of respect you want?

Adoptive families cherish their children because they are a symbol of the love and selflessness that you and the couple share; they are a symbol of the miracle that helped them overcome the curse of infertility. The love they show to your child will be felt by you, wherever you may be, knowing that you did what was best for your child.

If my parents had ever told me they cherished me because I was a symbol of selflessness, I’d be a lot more fucked up than I am. Adoptive families, if they’re composed of decent people, cherish their children for the same reasons every other decent family does: They love them. And, through the miracle of Adoption Love Transference, that supposedly means they also love you. Even if they lie and cheat and slam the door in your face forever after, you’ll somehow feel their magical love radiating from them to your child to you, no matter how far away they might whisk your baby to get him or her away from you. Sure you will. And that will compensate for your loss quite nicely, kinda like that cheap teddy bear they may or may not have handed you after one of them cut the cord connecting you to “their” baby.

Bullshit aside, when we love someone, we don’t take something precious away from them, especially when we have the power to help them keep it. When we love someone, we want to keep them in our lives and have a close relationship with them and support them and help them and ensure they’re happy to the best of our ability. Pausing in the middle of one’s day to go all dewy-eyed and say “It sure was nice of ol’ What’s-Her-Name to make us a family” isn’t the same thing at all.

The sad fact is, it’s not easy to respect people like single mothers, because society tells us they are the root of the nation’s ills, the cause of poverty and crime (and cancer and acne and terrorism). Single mothers in a patriarchy can be respected, of course, but it doesn’t come easy to most of us. And the hard fact is this: The better-off we are, the less likely we are to care about single mothers AND the more likely we are to be able to adopt. You flat-out cannot respect someone when you know her back is to the wall and you stand to gain from your not helping her. You can’t love her, either.

If there really is any woman out there who’s worried about being respected as a “birth mother,” consider this essay. It was written by someone who is trying to convince you that you will be respected. It appears on a website made by people who profit from adoption. That means they are putting forth their best effort to look good for you, and that this transparent, unwashed tripe is the best they can come up with. Think about that, and then think about what they’ll do and say when they’ve got what they want and any power you had to command their respect is gone.

*No we fucking well are not
**Stanford in particular. I’ll probably get around to that page by and by.


Filed under AdoptoLand, General Ignoramitude, Misognyny, Stop Saying That, WTF?!, You're going to Hell for this.

Fasten Your Seat Belts


1 Comment

October 30, 2014 · 10:18 pm

A Thre–wait, a ONE-Hour Tour (or, Fuck You, Eddie Lucio)

Hi, Women. I mean, Hello, evil sluts who might consider abortion. Eddie Lucio wants a few words with you, and he’s a man, so listen up. Here’s what Eddie really has to say:

You bitches are stupid. You’re so stupid you don’t know that your pregnancy, if allowed to continue, might result in the birth of a Real Live Baby. That’s why, should you decide you want an abortion in Eddie’s state, you must first observe a waiting period, endure “counseling,” look at this ultrasound, and hear this “description” of your “fetus,” which is almost certainly still an embryo. You’re so stupid you can’t comprehend the meanings of words like “abortion” and “pregnancy” without pictures and explanations from men who know more about your body than you do.

Why did you go to an abortion clinic in the first place, anyway? Was there a pretty mural on the wall? Did they offer you a balloon and a cookie? You poor, silly creature! You’re so stupid you’ve never heard of adoption! As stated above, you don’t know what abortion is (you just know you want one, perhaps because all the cool kids are doing it). So you can’t possibly know what adoption is. You must be educated! Isn’t it great that you can learn everything you need to know about adoption in just three hours?

(Naturally, all you need to know about it is that you should do it. Adoption is a wonderful thing you can do for someone else. You’re a woman, after all, and you were made to do things and sacrifice for others. What is wrong with you?)

Eddie Lucio wants you to believe he’s a Democrat. He wants you to believe he cares about babies. Unfortunately it’s obvious Eddie Lucio doesn’t give a fuck about babies as long as women can be punished for having them, for not having them, for having sex, for not having sex, or, I suppose, for existing.

Mr. Lucio says he intends to “continue advocating adoption as an alternative” to abortion. The idea that adoption, abortion, and keeping a child are all equivalent experiences to so many men says a lot about what they think about women: They don’t. Men can be extremely reluctant to imagine what life as a woman might be like, and I think we all know why.

I taught a course with a “gender issues” emphasis once. One writing exercise was to imagine you wake up the opposite sex and describe what you’d do/how you’d feel about it. This exercise came right out of the book, but many of the men in my classes acted as if I had invented it to annoy them. They really didn’t want to do it; how much of their semester credit would it be? Did they have to? Many seemed to feel personally insulted. A few of them were furious. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to open mutiny in the classroom, and in my classroom, we discuss controversial topics all the time.

Not only did they not notice the women weren’t making a scene about the assignment, they didn’t care or notice the way they were insulting every woman in the room by moaning that they refused to imagine being something so beneath them. One male student in each class wrote “I would kill myself,” and nothing more. And who wouldn’t? When I think about what a woman is to those young men, I’d rather die than be one too.

I have never had a student of either sex pout about being asked to write from the point of view of a cockroach or a chair: only men asked to write from the point of view of a woman. I think that says a lot about society…and about Eddie Lucio.

Wait, wait–sorry. This year, Eddie now thinks silly little female featherheads can make the decision after ONE that’s ONE mandatory hour of an Adoption 101 class. Here’s the story about last year’s version, with three! three! three times the propaganda.


Filed under Misognyny

Adoption Is Tits! or, Better Late Than Never?

So there was apparently this…thing going around these…places online that is Very Clever and Funny and not at all demeaning or sexist. It’s a fresh! new! take on Positive Adoption Language, which totally exists only to spare the feelings of adopted children!

Sure it does. Here’s what it’s teaching me now:

Adoptees are blobs of silicone or saline designed to look like human breasts. Our composition doesn’t really matter, though. What matters is that being implanted into our families made us real breasts forever and OMG YEY that’s tits!

Isn’t that just fucking perfect? Probably unconsciously so, but perfect. Adoption gives you fake breasts which are completely your real breasts. They are neither better nor worse than your own breasts are/would have been, which is why you went to all the  trouble of surgery. They’re put on your chest without any input of their own and are expected to enjoy the attention they get, which makes them doubly boobs. (Seriously, what kind of adult calls breasts “boobs”? And why does breast augmentation surgery have to sound like something a prostitute might get paid to do for a man? as in head job/blow job, hand job, BOOB JOB? I suspect my readers know very well why; but I digress.)

For starters, note that “the boob job things” are things said to “Us, or adoptive families that we know.” Not to “our adopted children,” the ones who are truly in a position to be hurt by insensitive/lying adoption language; to butthurt grown-ups. (Yes, “adopted families” is supposed to include the adoptees…just like “and the rest” was supposed to include The Professor and Mary Ann.)

So the metaphor works beautifully: Adoptions are breast augmentations because bad things said about your/your wife’s breasts cannot hurt the feelings of  said breasts. Breasts lack emotions. Things said about them can only hurt you, the human.

To be fair, the maker of the video has adopted a child who looks too young to comprehend what’s being said about her. That changes nothing about the fact that adoption is always firstly, foremost and lastly about the adopting parents and not the adopted children.  Also, IME, people talk about us in front of us long after we’re old enough to understand, and that shit does not hurt adoptees one bit less if (Example One) a word like “biological” is substituted for a word like “real.” But I guess it makes Mom and Dad feel better, and that’s the point.

Example Two: “Where’d you get her from?”
Daddy protests that his daughter is “not a trendy accessory that you get from a boutique” and suggests asking instead, “Where is [she] from?” Why? I had to think about this one, and I think this: They’re the same question, but one version has an active subject, “you,” the adoptive parents. The preferred version does not. In other words, the Good sentence says a baby teleported herself from one family into another, perhaps by magic, and the Bad one says you adopted her. You’re not ashamed of having adopted, are you, Pastor Boob Job Baby? Because you sound here  like you’re ashamed of having adopted.

Maybe you should be. In the first place, of course your daughter is a purchase you were able to make from a privileged position. If she weren’t, anyone would be able to raise her, perhaps her own Ethiopian family. In the second place, I repeat: Your daughter’s feelings will probably never be spared by this distinction, only yours. And by your feelings I mean, of course, your defensive attitude about having done something you very probably should not have done. Because we’re all supposed to congratulate you 24/7, not bring you down with reality.

And you’ll never celebrate your daughter’s “Gotcha Day,” right? Because damn, would that ever make her seem like a trendy thing you purchased.

Example Three:
“‘Did you, like, get to pick out the kid that you wanted?’ …The question you probably wanted to ask is “How does the adoption process actually work?” (or, “How Are Sausages Made?”)
In the first place, they didn’t mean to ask that at all. Nobody gives a flying fuck how the adoption process works. My experience in being adopted, talking about adoption, and blogging about adoption is that how it works is the LAST thing anyone wants to know. I tell them how it works and they jam their fingers in their ears and sing love songs to the US of A. What they want to know is how they can get a baby. Now.

In the second place: Again, you certainly did choose her. People with less money have to settle for older children from countries that are not so very trendy. Some of them have so little money and influence that they have to settle for USAian kids who are old enough to know they have other parents. (Ewwww! Kids who really need to be adopted are such a buzzkill.)

In the third place, Pastor Boob Job Baby, one does not only “choose one’s orphan” in Hollywood musicals.  PAPs who want to see kids in need of adoption performing for them need only go online, or attend one of those horrible “picnics” where they are not only permitted but encouraged to choose the spunkiest, singing-est, most optimistic, tap-dancing-est orphan that strikes their fancy.

Example Four: Couldn’t have your own? You should have asked “How almighty are your gametes?” because infertility is apparently some kind of personal failing. (Hint: It isn’t.) Looking back, I realize how fortunate I am to have been raised by two people who truly didn’t give a flying fuck I wasn’t “their own.” I saw zero evidence my dad ever felt “less-than” because he had the mumps as a teenager, ever. I mean, yes, this is a rude question, but  unless you do think infertility is a personal failing,why would it bother you? Just say “She is my own,” and let the jerk who thinks infertility is so important stew in his/her juices.

Example Five: asking to touch the baby
Yes, there are some people who want to touch and hold every baby they come across. I’ve never known this to hurt any parent’s feelings. (Maybe it does, but I’ve never seen anyone respond to “Can I hold the baby?” with anything other than “Sure! Isn’t she adorable?” In fact, when I meet people with new babies, I am very often invited to hold the baby. I’ve held many, many babies, and I’ve never once asked to hold a baby.)

If an actually outlandish number of people are asking to “touch” your adopted daughter, Pastor Boob Job Baby, it’s not because you adopted. It’s because you adopted a black child. The older she gets, the less likely white people will be to even ask before they touch her hair, because racism exists. If you don’t understand this yet, you need to work on it, NOW. No, yesterday. No, last year. No, really, three or four years before you adopted. Because being black in a white culture that does not value black people is going to be your daughter’s life, and you made that happen. If she comes home crying from elementary school about how someone called her the N-word? That’s your doing, and you show no sign of being ready to deal with it.

Example Six: Do you love her even though she’s not yours? Doesn’t it bother you you’re different races? How much did she cost? Pastor Boob Job Baby says the answer to all these questions is “Just don’t.”

I’ll admit that being asked whether or not one loves one’s child is the kind of thing that would upset any parent, and I’ll admit the other two questions seem rude. I don’t care. As long as the child doesn’t hear them, I don’t give a single damn how often people who set themselves up to be asked these questions feel about being asked these questions, because if they are not constantly asking themselves these same questions, they’re fucking it up . It is in fact very important whether or not you can love her. It is very important that you’re different races. It’s very important that money is driving adoption. But not to Pastor Boob Job Baby, who doesn’t understand many things about adoption or society. For example, he doesn’t grok that objectifying women is neither a joke nor a compliment:

Example Seven: “It’s not polite to stare…unless it’s at my butt.” See? A man’s staring at the fresh new double-dees you paid thousands for is wroonnnnnnng, but only because it reminds you those breasts aren’t your original, natural breasts. Certainly not because being yelled at, threatened with rape by, and reduced to a fucktoy in the minds of many heterosexual men who see your breasts is bad, oh no. That’s good!  Because staring at Pastor Boob Job Baby’s ass is awesome.

This man is raising a daughter. A black daughter. If she ever asks him for help dealing with the double dose of objectification she will face for being both female and black, Daddy will just tell her that she’s real, that she’s not an accessory, that he didn’t pick her out, that he loves her….and that the thousands of people who will judge and profile her by her femaleness and blackness all her life should simply be directed to look at Daddy’s ass instead. Problem solved!

BTW, you know what it’s appropriate to say to someone about the “boob job” you think she may have had? Nothing, EVER, unless she brings it up. That’s not how conversations about adoption work or should work.

I now throw this post open to comment. But remember, readers: If You Wouldn’t Say It About a Snotty Little Privileged White Male Pastor, don’t say it about adoption. Go!



Filed under AdoptoLand, Colonialism ROCKS!, It Can't Be Racist. I Didn't Use the N-word Once!, Misognyny, The Adoption Process Moral Pedestal