The Language of Adoption: Embracing Our Truth Over Positivity
Telling someone how they should refer to their biological or adoptive parents can feel intrusive and disrespectful, undermining their autonomy and personal journey.
Language is a powerful tool. It shapes our perceptions, defines our experiences, and influences how we connect with others. In the adoption world, the language we use is particularly significant, carrying the weight of personal and collective histories. This has given rise to two distinct approaches: Honest Adoption Language (HAL) and Positive Adoption Language (PAL).
While PAL aims to paint adoption in a positive light, often smoothing over the rough edges, HAL strives for authenticity, revealing the complexities and challenges inherent in adoption. The debate over which language to use is more than just semantics—it's about recognizing and respecting each person's unique journey and choices.
The Dichotomy of Positive and Honest Adoption Language
Positive Adoption Language (PAL) was developed to combat the historical stigma associated with adoption. Its goal is to promote a positive view of adoption and encourage acceptance and inclusion. PAL uses terms like "birth mother" and "placement" to soften the reality of separation and emphasize the selfless aspects of the adoption process. Adoption agencies, adoptive parents, and others who want to present adoption in a positive light often advocate for PAL. However, I believe that PAL overlooks the real challenges faced by adoptees and oversimplifies the process of dealing with loss and forming new identities. Some examples of PAL include using "adoptive parents" instead of "adopters" and "making an adoption plan" instead of "giving up for adoption."
However, this approach glosses over the deeper emotional truths and traumas experienced by adoptees. This is where Honest Adoption Language (HAL) steps in, emphasizing the need for truth transparency and acknowledging the pain and loss that are at the root of 100% of the adoption narrative. HAL advocates for terms that reflect the adoptee's reality more accurately. For instance, instead of saying "placed for adoption," HAL might use "given up for adoption" to more truthfully represent the sense of loss and lack of agency felt by many adoptees.
The Right to Choose Our Words
One of the most contentious issues in adoption language is how we refer to our biological and adoptive parents. For many, the term "birth mother" is deeply ingrained, often introduced early in life and reinforced by societal norms and the adoption industry. While some may argue that this term perpetuates a sense of separation between the adoptee and their biological mother, for others, it feels natural and appropriate and they can both co-exist together for different individuals.
It's crucial to recognize that everyone has their own reasons for choosing the terms they use. These choices are often rooted in personal experiences, emotional connections, and the language they grew up with. Telling someone how they should refer to their biological or adoptive parents can feel intrusive and disrespectful, undermining their autonomy and personal journey.
My Journey with Language
In my own experience as an adoptee, I've navigated these linguistic waters with a mix of frustration and determination. The term "birth mother" was one I used for many years simply because it was the term I was given. It wasn't until I delved deeper into my adoption journey and engaged with the adoptee community that I began to understand the divisive nature of this term. That still didn't change the reality that I was conditioned to call my biological mother "birth mother."
I realized that the term "birth mother" was not just a descriptor—it was a construct designed by the adoption industry to create a sense of separation between me and my biological mother. This realization was jarring, leading me to question much of the language I had taken for granted. However, I also firmly believe in my right to choose the terms that feel right to me without external pressures dictating my choices.
I vividly remember a moment when a fellow adoptee attacked me online and adamantly insisted that I refer to my birth mother as "Mother," arguing that anything less was succumbing to the adoption industry's dehumanizing language. While I understood her perspective—that the term "birth mother" could be seen as a tool to detach us from our origins—I was also infuriated by her presumption to dictate how I should address my own biological mother.
Every adoptee's story is different and deeply complex.
My birth mother wasn't a young, unprepared woman; she was nearly 30 when she made the deliberate choice to give me up. When I finally found her, she rejected any relationship with me. For me, the term "birth mother," which I learned at five years old, accurately captures my experience. This woman gave birth to me, but she never played the role of a mother in my life. Insisting that I call her "Mother" dismisses my reality and undermines the personal journey I've navigated. It's vital to respect each adopted individual's narrative and allow them the autonomy to choose the language that reflects their unique adoption story.
Consider Reading: Adoption Hasn't Touch Me, It's Ruthlessly Kicked My Ass.
This article was my expression of the term "Touched by Adoption." I give readers a glimpse of how this term doesn't line up with my (and most adoptees') experience and offer another way to express this by using the words "Impacted by Adoption," which is much more suitable than "touched."
But take note: I don't tell people what to say. I suggest alternatives and reasons why this term is offensive to adoptees. Remember, "It's not what you say; it's how you say it."
My Paper Parents
I refer to my adoptive parents as my "paper parents" or "parents on paper" because, based on my lived experiences with them, that's precisely what they are to me. I didn't sign any adoption paperwork; they did. To me, this means they are my parents legally, but nothing more or less. While I recognize this terminology might offend some, it's a reflection of my reality. Instead of passing judgment, I ask for an understanding of why I use this language. Not all adoptive homes are warm, loving, and safe. Some are abusive, unsafe, and horrific. My personal story, detailed in my upcoming memoir, "Finding Purpose in the Pain - One Adoptee's Journey from Heartbreak to Hope and Healing," will shed more light on these experiences.
This is another example where I get to choose what I call my adoptive parents, and it's not okay for someone else to tell me otherwise. This is my story, my pain, and my truth. Understanding this is crucial for recognizing the diversity of adoptee experiences and respecting each person's right to define their own narrative and what language they use.
No one has the authority to tell me how to refer to my parents, adopted or not. This is my journey, and I get to choose the language that aligns with my experiences and feelings. While I recognize and understand the arguments against the term "birth mother," it remains a part of my history and my lexicon.
Encouraging Understanding Without Imposing Language
We can suggest alternative terms in the adoption community and explain the reasons behind them, but imposing language on others is counterproductive. Instead, fostering a dialogue that respects individual choices and explains the impact of different terms can be far more effective. For instance, explaining how the term "first mother" or "biological mother" can honor the enduring bond between mother and child may encourage someone to reconsider their language without feeling coerced.
The Impact of Language on Adoptee Identity
The language used in adoption not only affects how others perceive us but also significantly impacts our self-identity. When I was younger, using terms like "birth mother" made it easier to compartmentalize my feelings and navigate a world that didn't always understand my experiences. However, as I grew older and more reflective, I realized that these terms subtly reinforced a sense of disconnection from my biological roots. This realization sparked a journey of reclaiming my narrative, seeking terms that resonated more authentically with my sense of self. Sometimes, I still say, "Birth Mother" because it's what I am used to and what I was conditioned to say way back at the beginning, knowing I was adopted at five years old. Other times, I refer to her as "Biological Mother." Both are equally a part of how I express my story.
For many adoptees, this journey is fraught with emotional upheaval. The language imposed on us can feel like a second layer of adoption—a linguistic adoption that dictates how we should feel and speak about our origins. By choosing our words carefully and advocating for honest language and language that feels natural to us, we can reclaim our stories and assert our identities more fully.
Some adoptees hate being referred to as adoptees, and some prefer to be called relinquishee instead. Each individual adoptee has their own specific reasons behind using these terms.
The Role of Society in Adoption Language
Society at significant plays a crucial role in shaping and reinforcing the language of adoption. Media portrayals, educational materials, and public discourse often lean towards PAL, promoting a rainbows and unicorns idealized view of adoption. This can create pressure on adoptees and their families to conform to these sanitized narratives, even when they do not reflect their lived realities.
To counteract this, it's important to educate society about the importance of HAL. Honest discussions about adoption should include the voices of adoptees, highlighting their experiences and the emotional complexities involved. By doing so, we can foster a more inclusive and understanding environment where all aspects of the adoptee experience are acknowledged and respected.
Moving Forward: Embracing Diversity in Language
As we move forward, it's essential to continue these conversations, encouraging empathy and understanding. By sharing our stories and the reasons behind our language choices, we can build bridges between different perspectives and promote a more nuanced understanding of adoption.
The language of adoption is multifaceted, reflecting a range of experiences and emotions. Each person's choice of language is deeply personal, shaped by their unique journey. Rather than imposing terms, we should foster understanding and respect for each individual's linguistic choices, our truths and recognizing that genuine connection and empathy come from honoring each person's story as they choose to tell it.
Understanding Is Love
Honest adoption language is what we should all strive for, as the very nature of adoption is often entangled with secrecy, lies, and half-truths. If adoption is truly about love, it must also embrace the truth, making honest adoption language a necessary alignment with that principle. Embracing reality, even when it's painful, allows for authentic connections and genuine healing. The truth, no matter how difficult, ultimately sets us free.
By committing to honest adoption language in our communications and expressions, we honor the real experiences of adoptees, birth parents, and adoptive families, fostering a more transparent and compassionate understanding of adoption.
Ultimately, the goal is not to dictate language but to cultivate a culture of respect and empathy. By acknowledging the power of words and their impact on our identities and relationships, we can create a more inclusive and understanding world for all those impacted by adoption.
Q & A
As you reflect on this article, consider these questions: How do the terms "birth mother", “biological mother” and "first mother" resonate with your experience? Have you faced resistance or acceptance when choosing your own adoption language, and how did it impact you? What are your thoughts on Positive Adoption Language and Honest Adoption Language? Please share your thoughts and experiences in the comments below. Let's foster a deeper understanding and empathy for the diverse realities within the adoption community.
I see you; I feel your pain for all the adoptees who feel forgotten, lost, and alone. Please don’t give up, and know you aren’t alone in feeling like you do.
I have compiled a list of recommended resources for adoptees and advocates. It can be found here: Recommended Resources for Adult Adoptees and Adoption Advocates.
Thank you for reading and for supporting me and my work.
Understanding is Love,
Pamela A. Karanova
Here are some of the writing pieces I’m the proudest of:
Adoption: Mislabeled, Medicated, & Diagnosed Adoptees Could Be Grieving Profoundly.
The Perplexity of Forced Bonding in Adoption - I share my thoughts on the bonding process in adoption.
100 Heartfelt Transracial Adoptee Quotes that Honor the Truth of Adoption - 100 Transracial Adoptees come together to share feelings on how adoption has impacted them.
Adoptees, Why Are You So Angry? - Adoptees share feelings on why they are angry.
Why Do Adoptees Search? An Adoptee Collaboration - Many adoptees experience why they choose to search for biological families.
100 Heartfelt Adoptee Quotes that Honor the Truth of Adoption - 100 Adoptees come together to share heartfelt feelings on how adoption has made them feel.
My Friend Has an Adopted Child, and They Don’t Have Any Issues with Being Adopted - Shining a light on the comment so many adoptees hear over and over.
Here are some of the articles I have been featured in:
These Adoptees Refuse to Be Christian Pro-Life Poster Kids by Kathryn Post of Religious News Service.
Toward Preventing Adoption- Related Suicide by Mirah Riben.
Before a month celebrating adoption, a day to recognize adoptees’ trauma by Religion News Service.
Bringing Adult Adoptee Issues to Light by Angela Burton of Next Avenue.
Your writing reveals the pain you are experiencing and I am sending hugs. As the second /adoptive mother of two KADs I continue to learn about their world, even 40+ years in. The HAL you mention seem more appropriate for adult or at least young adult adoptees.
I continue to appreciate your writings on adoption and being an adoptee. It's like continuing education! I am a 66 year old adoptee (domestic, closed adoption). I have always and will continue to refer to the women who gave birth to me a.k.a. my birth mom. To your point, the use of birth mom for me was "given" to me based on the terminology used in the 1950's. Four years ago, thru Ancestry, I discovered a half sibling which led to the discovery that my birth mom is still alive. Upon this discovery, she confirmed my birth details to my half sibling and then said the door is closed never to be opened. At the end of the day, this woman is NOT my mom. For me (my choice) she is the woman who gave birth to me. She is not my mother. She did not mother me. She did not raise me. She did not nurture me.