The Wonders of adoption.

Adoption is wonderful; you can choose the sex of the child!

When she received my picture, she said that she didn’t want a boy (my head was shaved on the picture). She called the adoption agency and told them that she asked for a girl. They replied that it was a girl. She told me she loved me immediately after knowing that I was a girl.


Adoption is wonderful; you can order the right child!

She asked for a girl who likes the arts and who dislikes sports. She had been impressed when she saw me doing pearl necklace (as if a 9 year-old girl needed a special gift to string beads!) She thought that I had an innate gift for doing pottery (when I just imitated her friend-potter to produce a simple container). She praised my artistic talents.

I had no artistic talent, not more than any other kid of my age but a-mom was convinced that the adoption agency had responded to her request, so she pushed me into the direction she wanted me to take. "I'm so happy they gave me an artistic child. I’m happy that you don’t like sports" she said.


The put me in 4th grade. I had nothing to do except copying few words several times. These stupid exercises would take me at most five minutes. I had to stay in the class all the day long while other kids were busy, I was bored. I started to draw and I became very good in reproducing drawings. To avoid kids who were always teasing me, I naturally chose to practice piano or to handcraft alone. With the shame of my Asian body, I also started hating all kind of sports. A-mom was more convinced that I was the child she ordered. “I’m so happy they gave me an artistic child. I’m happy that you don’t like sports" she repeated again and again during the following years.


It was impossible for the adoption agency to know the tastes of the kids; their social worker met us only two times within ten months. At the orphanage, we had nothing, not even a crayon. The only activity available for older girls was singing in the choir. So, it was impossible even for the nuns of the orphanage who were staying with us to know if a kid had an artistic talent or not.


My talents are not innate; I had no other choice than loving arts and hating physical activities. I submitted to the desire of an infertile lady who had order an artistic girl. Once adult, my real choice was studying mathematics and it took me several years to realize that I also like physical activities.  I wonder if  I was not pushed into  one kind of activity,  would I be a different person. If I was sold to a lady  had ordered an athlectic child, would I be more athletic, would  I be less artistic?  what part of me is the result of genetic heredity? what other part of me was is the result of molding from my purchaser?

 Adoption is sooooo wonderful for the purchasers.  My  purchaser got the right product  she had ordered, she passed away  with the title of "mommy".


Natural v. Forced Interests

I really enjoyed this post because it had me nodding like a big-ol-bobble-head saying, "yes... yes.... YES!!!!!"

A while-back I started a thread about Natural v. Expected Talents, and how parental influence (on the adoptee) creates a whole new "conflict of interest" within our own sense of "self".

Like you were expected to "love the arts" and "hate physical activities", I was expected to be the Great Performer... complete with documented proof that confirmed I acheived great artistic talent (as per the piano recital at NYC's Carnegie Hall)  and top-scholastic achievement (as per my school records - excluding college, of course). 

What I didn't know at the time was this:   As a child, there was an adult- image I had to defy (the drunken whore mother who birthed me), and a new image I had to define (perfect by-product of perfect parents).

How can any child live-up to such expectations, and not have it weigh-deep, somewhere?

Eventually, the instinct to revolt all that's been forced will kick-in... won't it?

Pound Pup Legacy