Transracial adoptees wish they’d had more guidance

· Education,Politics and Advocacy

Author Gibney shares hers through storytelling

In Minnesota, stories of adoption are diverse and complex, weaving narratives of belonging, identity, and cultural exploration. For Shannon Gibney, award-winning writer and professor at Minneapolis Community & Technical College known for her powerful exploration of complex identities and untold stories, adoption is not just a personal journey, but a lens through which she examines race, identity and belonging, challenging societal narratives and inspiring others to reflect on their own stories.

Gibney will be keynoting at the Adoptee Literary Festival on March 22. As a transracial adoptee herself, Gibney’s experiences are deeply embedded in her storytelling.

“I think every story that I write is in some way influenced by my experience as a transracial adoptee, even if the story isn’t explicitly about that topic,” she explained. “Just the outsider experience, right? Like the feeling of my ‘other’.”

“I was so immersed in whiteness and family life through whiteness while navigating life as a Black or brown body. Not just the body politic of the family, but the body politic of the nation too.” She called it “a very confusing identity and place to be as a child,” especially when trying to understand her role in her family, community, and as “a quote unquote American.”

Sarah and Viviana

For sisters Sarah and Viviana, both mothers and advocates who were adopted from Paraguay via closed adoption into a white American family, navigating identity has been a journey shaped by love, loss, and self-discovery. Their experiences shed light on the often unspoken challenges of transracial adoption, where questions of culture, race and belonging intertwine.

All three parties’ journeys have parallels.

Both sisters have few memories of their early years in Paraguay. Viviana recalls one of her only memories before adoption: standing in a hallway, offered a sucker by a neighbor. “That’s the only memory I have from being about two and a half,” she says.

The closed adoption meant no contact with biological family members and no information about their birth parents. “No names, no health history, no cultural background. You’re just left with questions,” Sarah explained.

Adopted during the early 1990s, the sisters were brought to the U.S. at different ages — Sarah at nine months and Viviana just before her third birthday. Their early lives were spent in an orphanage, often separated due to Sarah’s illness.

“We were frequently separated because I was very sick,” Sarah recalls. “That had a huge impact on us emotionally and socially.”

Their mother later recounted her visit to the orphanage, describing rows of cribs filled with crying babies. “She wasn’t allowed in, but she snuck in. She said it looked like a baby farm,” Viviana says. This image stayed with their mother, highlighting the harsh realities of international adoption in under-resourced countries.

Gibney’s story

While Gibney was not adopted from another country, her storytelling mirrors the two sisters’ intricacies of race and identity. Gibney’s novel “The Girl I Am, Was, and Never Will Be” is a speculative memoir that shows the powerful exploration of identity, belonging, and the complexities of transracial adoption.

The story begins with Gibney’s fictionalized self, a young Black girl adopted by a white family, grappling with the dissonance between her racial identity and her environment. As she navigates adolescence, she faces questions of who she is versus who she’s expected to be, feeling torn between two worlds.

The narrative takes a transformative turn, down a wormhole, when she imagines an alternate version of herself — one who wasn’t adopted and grew up with her biological family. This parallel life serves as a haunting antagonist, reflecting the internal conflict and sense of loss that often accompanies transracial adoption.

As the story unfolds, Gibney masterfully weaves together these dual identities, illuminating the emotional journey of reconciling the girl she is with the girl she might have been. Gibney says readers found connections beyond adoption.

“I was surprised and happy that a lot of mixed folks contacted me about that book. It wasn’t just adoptees,” she shared. “And they were like, I’ve been at that [family] table. I know that experience.”

All three parties’ journeys have parallels.

Despite positive reflections from non-adoptee readers of Gibney’s book, Sarah and Viviana take seats at both sides of the table. Being transracially adopted and somewhat lonely from navigating identity, both sisters struggled to reconcile their racial and cultural identities with their predominantly white surroundings.

“I didn’t look like my parents,” Viviana shares. “I always felt the need to explain myself. I’d introduce myself and feel the need to add, ‘I’m adopted,’ as if it justified my existence in that space.”

Sarah echoes this sentiment, noting that cultural identity was largely ignored. “Paraguayans are racially ambiguous. People adopted from there were seen as ‘fitting in’ because they didn’t look distinctly different. But we were never connected to our culture or identity.”

Although their parents made efforts by attending adoption groups, neither felt truly connected. “It didn’t feel like community,” Viviana explains. “It was more like, ‘See, you’re not alone.’ But it didn’t help us navigate school, friendships, or our identities.”

Sarah and Viviana emphasize that their parents did their best with the resources available, but acknowledge the lack of societal tools to guide them. “Our parents wanted kids. They did their best, but they didn’t have the resources to help us navigate our cultural identity,” Sarah says. Viviana adds, “I wish there had been more guidance, more tools for them to help us navigate both our realities.”

Gibney emphasized the importance of representation and visibility for transracial adoptees. “Unfortunately, there weren’t a lot of transracial adoptee authors as I was growing up. And that’s still the case,” she said. Her work on the anthology “When We Become Ours,” co-edited with Nicole Chung, reflects her commitment to uplifting adoptee voices.

Their journey illustrates the complex layers of transracial adoption, from cultural identity and belonging to the impact of early trauma. Their experiences call for greater awareness and more comprehensive support systems for adoptive families, including cultural education, mental health resources, and community-building opportunities.

As Shannon Gibney powerfully signs to other adoptees in her book, “We are not and never were alone.” Through their stories, Sarah, Viviana and Gibney are creating spaces of understanding, visibility and connection, ensuring that transracial adoptees are heard, seen and supported.

The Adoptee Literary Festival on March 22 is virtual, and registration is required. For more information, visit adopteelitfest.comom.