I Was Adopted From China. People Ask If I Feel ‘Lucky’ — And My Answer Isn’t What They Expect.

The first time I was in China, I became one of her lost girls. As I was taken from my birth mother’s arms and placed at a nearby train station, I became a statistic ― another baby uprooted by the country’s one-child policy. At 11 months old, I was plucked from China’s embrace and placed into that of my parents. My roots began to grow in the soil of a different land.

When I was old enough to comprehend the gravity of my truth, my parents sat me down and told me that I had been adopted from China. This supposed revelation did not alter the trajectory of my life as my parents feared it might. It was fairly easy, even as a child, to recognise that I did not look like those around me, especially my parents. In fact, I found it quite awesome to be different ― to have come from a country so rich with history and culture.

However, the reality of living in a town with a predominantly white population is that many of its residents ostracise anyone who is different. I tried desperately to fit in with the other kids, but it became clear early on that despite my parents’ whiteness, my Chineseness would always make me an outsider.

Growing up, I listened as friends discussed which parent they resembled the most, and I grappled with the guilt that came with wishing I could participate in those discussions. I laughed along with others as they asked me to talk to them in “my language” and proceeded to speak gibberish in a way that was supposed to imitate Mandarin. For years, I didn’t know how to feel, or if my feelings were even valid. I didn’t realise that these seemingly small acts of aggression were racist and that they would grow into hatred in the future.

The now-abandoned train station where the author was left as a baby.

Courtesy of Iris Anderson

The now-abandoned train station where the author was left as a baby.

The first time I returned to China with my parents, I was 9 years old and longing for a place filled with people who looked like me. I was completely in awe of the country that created me, and this is when I first realised that I needed to embrace being Chinese. This proved nearly impossible. It was obvious that I did not belong to those who lived in China. From the way I dressed to the language that I spoke ― or couldn’t speak ― to them, I was American through and through.

As the trip went on, I found myself becoming increasingly disconnected from China and Chinese culture. I felt like a foreigner in a country that I desperately believed should have felt like home. This was the revelation that changed the trajectory of my life: My identity as a transracial adoptee seemed to define me everywhere I went. I was too Chinese to be American in America, and I was too American to be Chinese in China.

As I grew older, it became more common for adults to ask me how lucky I felt to be adopted from China, and I became resentful at how their questions commodified me. If I did not respond with gratitude for being adopted, it was as if a switch flipped in their mind and they saw me as a selfish girl who owes her parents everything. I left an abundance of words unsaid. To these people, this topic seemed clearly black and white: I was adopted from China after being left at a train station and should be grateful for my parents’ generosity ― for the roof they put over my head and the food they put on my plate.

Obviously, I love my parents. They have given so much to me and I would not be where I am today without them. My epiphany occurred when I realised that I am allowed to simultaneously love my parents and grieve what I lost. While transracial adoptees may be placed into amazing, loving families, it does not change the fact that their culture was stolen from them.

I have always belonged to an in-between place: not quite Chinese, but definitely not white either. The spaces and resources available to transracial adoptees are few and far between despite how large our population is, especially in the United States. My parents never hid the fact that I was Chinese, and they did the best that they could to expose me to Chinese traditions, but their efforts had their limits. Still, I am lucky to have parents who wanted and pushed for me to be connected to the country in which I was born.

The author with her parents in front of the Temple of Heaven in Beijing. “I remember that day being miserably hot, but I really enjoyed being there with my parents,” she writes.

Courtesy of Iris Anderson

The author with her parents in front of the Temple of Heaven in Beijing. “I remember that day being miserably hot, but I really enjoyed being there with my parents,” she writes.

When I came to them about wanting to feel more connected to China and Chinese culture, they searched for years to find someone who could teach me Chinese. Unfortunately this task proved immensely difficult, so instead I began teaching myself the basics. My parents promised to take me back to China as soon as possible, especially now that I was older and could understand the importance of the trip a little bit more. They could tell I was struggling to reconcile my identities and always made sure that I knew I could lean on them for support. Unlike others, my parents never held my emotions against me and were ― and still are ― pillars of support.

The second time I returned to China, I was 15 and felt more in touch with my emotions. I wanted to build connections with other adoptees and hear their stories. This trip, which catered to adoptees from the same agency, allowed me to spend time with others who had been taken into white families.

Together, we found and created a safe environment for each other where we could talk about our experiences and vent our emotions without fear of judgment. This visit was different for me. I felt seen and heard by others who experienced the same inner turmoil that I had. Together we laughed and cried and lamented what could have been. In another life, would we have been able to meet under different circumstances?

It didn’t matter, we answered. We realised that all that mattered was what we had now, a fragmented past blended with a found family, each other included. While we didn’t all have the same goals for our return to China, we did share one: to reconcile our guilt and our curiosity. For me, I held no anger toward my birth mom for giving me up, especially when I understood the state of China and the one-child policy. But the curiosity of knowing about where and who I came from was there, and probably always will be. By the end of the trip, I cannot say that this goal was completely achieved. But while it might sound cliche, we adoptees did find each other, and in some way that was worth more to us than our original goals.

When I returned to the United States, I finished high school with a different perspective than the one I entered with. I felt able to embrace my in-between identity and reconcile the parts of me that had always felt at odds. Still, I lean on those I have found on my journey and continue to search for others who help me feel whole.

The author and the adoptee friends she made. “We were having so much fun at that point in our trip and were always asking our parents to take pictures of us together,” she writes.

Courtesy of Iris Anderson

The author and the adoptee friends she made. “We were having so much fun at that point in our trip and were always asking our parents to take pictures of us together,” she writes.

All transracial adoptees deserve to have a place where they can release their emotions and feel a sense of community. While I know not all transracial adoptees will want or be able to return to their country of birth and connect with others who have shared experiences, I hope they can find another way to build a community, perhaps through local groups or online. Being able to share my thoughts, emotions and challenges ― which I worried only I was thinking, feeling and facing ― with people like me has changed my life for the better.

It has been a difficult adventure to reach a place where I feel comfortable with who I am ― Chinese, American and an adoptee ― but it has allowed me not only to deepen my roots, but also to make flowers bloom in my life today.

Iris Anderson is studying biology and psychology at Columbia University and is part of the class of 2026. She loves to write in her free time and is inspired by her personal experiences and those around her. Iris would like to thank her University Writing professor, Emily Weitzman, and her Literature Humanities professor, Taarini Mookherjee, for their support of her writing endeavours.

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Let 2023 Be The Year We Tell Our Kids What Families Actually Look Like

What do you think of when you hear the word family? More often than not, it may be a heterosexual couple – a mum and dad – and their two biological children. The classic nuclear family setup.

But the reality is that many families no longer look like this in the UK, despite the those old stereotypes holding fast. In 2021, there were 19.3 million families in the UK – of these, 3 million were solo parent families.

Around 1.1 million children in England and Wales are estimated to live in a stepfamily, while statistics on same-sex parent families are harder to come by. According to charity FFLAG, the most recent statistics for the number of same-sex couples raising children are from 2013, when 12,000 couples were doing so. It’s safe to say there’s probably a lot more now.

For children who come from single parent, LGBTQ+, adoptive, blended, foster and kinship families (where family members or friends raise children), being bombarded with the message there’s only one type of family can cut deep.

Journalist Freddy McConnell – a self-described solo seahorse fatherissued a plea on Instagram recently after his tearful child came home from school and said everyone in his class had a mum and dad.

“I don’t know if this was someone else’s observation or his,” wrote McConnell, before urging parents to tell their children what families actually look like. “If your kid has a mum and a dad, please don’t let them out into the world under the misconception that *that* = family,” he said.

“Please take every single opportunity to point out that ‘family’ is a huge and never-ending idea,” he said. “That love makes a family, not who’s in it. That everyone’s family means the world to them, so be gentle.”

Sadly, the othering McConnell’s children’s faced is not unique. But while there are some amazingly diverse books and TV shows for kids out there, as well as references to different types of families when learning at school, the classic 2.4 family is still very much the norm in lots of the media kids consume from a young age. Bluey and Peppa Pig, for example (though a shout out to Hey Duggee for doing things a bit differently).

Lots of the classic children’s books we end up buying our kids (mainly for our own nostalgic pleasure) also centre around very ‘traditional’ family units, not necessarily reflective of 2023. Think: Mog, The Tiger That Came For Tea, Peepo.

Louisa Herridge, a solo mum who is 43 and from Warrington, says films and books can sometimes be triggering for her daughter Emilie if they’re just about dads.

“I would love to see a single mum narrative in books and kid’s films and one where they are thriving and not just trying to get back with dad,” says Herridge, a positive psychology and mindset coach, and founder of Mamas Ignited.

She praises the latest Disney films which “have much more powerful messages for young girls in particular – and we do see different family makeups.”

The mum actively teaches her daughter about how families are all different, and says her daughter’s school makes an effort in this area too. One example she gives is that they say “grown-ups at home” instead of mum and dad.

“But schools are still portraying stereotypical norms,” she adds. “In her school Nativity this year, they portrayed four family setups showing how they celebrate Christmas. In each scene, there was a mum, dad and two kids.”

Discussing the impact, the solo mum suggests children who do not come from nuclear families “have the potential to feel different – and very early on in life” which, she says, can impact their self-worth and self-esteem.

“Children that stand out as different are at risk of bullying – and as an ex-teacher this is something that I have experienced,” she adds.

““I remember the stigma attached to single mums and the societal message was that I should aspire to get married and have a baby.””

– Louisa Herridge

Herridge recalls feeling guilt when she separated from Emilie’s father because she didn’t want her daughter to “come from a broken home” – something that was shaped by her own perception of what a family should look like growing up.

“I grew up terrified that my parents would split up and that I would come from a ‘broken home’,” she says. “Looking back this stigma of a ‘broken home’ comes from how family life is portrayed in society.

“I remember the stigma attached to single mums and the societal message was that I should aspire to get married and have a baby.”

Her daughter has, on occasion, been impacted by the narrow view of family that is sometimes portrayed in society and culture. “The first time I can remember it having an impact on her was at her Reception Nativity,” she recalls. “After the Nativity she was very upset that she didn’t have her dad there and, in her head, everyone else did.”

Sometimes families have one parents, sometimes two, sometimes even three. And sometimes one – or all – aren’t necessarily the biological parent. Mok O’Keeffe, a LGBTQ+ historian at GayAristo, has been helping his sister-in-law raise three children after his brother died in 2010.

“I promised my brother I would keep his memory alive and be there for the girls. And I have done that. They have a wonderful mother and I am their father figure,” says O’Keeffe, who is married.

svetikd via Getty Images

“They were flower girls at my wedding and mean the world to me. My sister-in-law says we are the modern family,” he adds. “We certainly are unique at sports day!”

The children – who are now all teenagers – “think it is quite cool to have a gay uncle as a father figure,” says O’Keeffe, who is 53 and splits his time between Chelsea in London, and Abergavenny, Wales.

Their experience as a family unit, while tinged with tragedy, has been an overwhelmingly positive one – helped, O’Keeffe says, by their extended family who live in Spain.

“The aunts and uncles and grandma are loving and welcoming to the girls,” he says. “They spend summers in Spain and, in many ways, my girls may have lost a father, but as a result have more loving and invested adult role models than they might have had if he had lived.”

The historian says he’s had a positive experience with their schools, who have accepted him as the father figure in the girls’ lives – something that came about after he and his sister-in-law set up a meeting to explain their situation. “Both their junior and high schools were 100% supportive,” he adds.

“I have not experienced any negativity around what my sister-in-law and I call ‘our modern family’. I have found that the girls’ friends and parents have been totally accepting of me as a significant part of the girls’ lives.”

The UK is a more diverse place than it’s ever been – with so many families of all shapes and sizes. But it’s clear that some children are still being made to feel like outsiders because of the narrow view of family that still presents itself.

While schools and media are doing their best to move with the times, it’s clear more needs to be done. And caregivers – especially those in more ‘traditional’ family units – are the ones who can be doing some serious legwork here.

Freddy McConnell suggested parents must be the ones to “keep talking” to their kids about this stuff. “However you want to explain it, with however many picture books to help, please just make sure you *actively* do,” he said.

“So that kids with a solo dad or solo mum, two mums, two dads, more than two parents, adoptive families, donors, guardians, carers, blended families etc etc, don’t find themselves having to defend their loved ones at school or anywhere else.

“So that school is as safe a place for us as it is for your family. And, to put it bluntly, so that no one’s little one has to put on brave face in class, before letting it out through tears at bedtime.”

While parents are a great place to start, Herridge caveats that “unfortunately the same messages will not be given [by all parents] as there will be old prejudice and misrepresentation in some families”.

Given this is the case, schools have a huge opportunity to make a difference.

What are children taught in schools about family?

Guidance provided to primary schools states that children should be taught “families are important for children growing up because they can give love, security and stability”.

Children are told “that others’ families sometimes look different from their family, but that they should respect those differences and know that other children’s families are also characterised by love and care”.

The guidance says teachers must teach pupils that there are many types and sizes of families, for example:

  • some children live with a parent or parents
  • some children live with other family members such as grandparents or older siblings
  • some children live with a foster family or in another type of home
  • some people are the only child in their family while others have siblings.

Diversity is needed more widely is needed in the media, adds Herridge. “This is a much wider issue than just families as there needs to be more representation of colour, disability, gender and sexuality.

“Diverse resources in schools would be a great start, along with breaking down the patriarchal expectations of women that are still so often represented in books and films.”

So what is a family then? “Families come in many different varieties, changing and adapting over time,” says O’Keeffe. “They are no longer fixed entities, with traditional mother and fathers – and educational establishments are recognising this.”

“Family are the people who love you no matter what, who you want to be with and who add that extra spark to your life,” adds Herridge.

Her daughter Emilie, who is seven, says families “are happy, go on nice days out, are loved and [there’s] no falling out”.

“The people in families are mums, nannies, dads, children or maybe not a child, aunties, uncles and cousins. There doesn’t need to be a number of people,” she says.

“You are family because you were made a family. In any shape and sizes, you are still a good person.

“Just because you don’t have a dad, doesn’t mean you are different.”

A reading list for you and your kids to explore what different families look like

Do you have recommendations for more books or shows about the shape of families today. Email ukparents@huffingtonpost.co.uk to let us know about them.

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