An Adoptee's Story

An Adoptee’s Story

Written by: Harper Teague

Unfound. Unwanted. Unloved. These three words are common beliefs and insults that adopted people everywhere have heard and experienced throughout their lives. From a newly adopted child who doesn’t even understand what these words mean yet, to a fully-grown adult who has fought against these remarks all their life. There is a surplus of stigmas and uneducated opinions towards adoption and the effects it has on the adoptee. So as an adopted person myself, I would like to provide insight into my story to share my knowledge about adoption and what it’s like to grow up as an adoptee.

To begin, my name is Harper Teague. A truly “American”  name for a Chinese girl. However, my full name is actually ‘Harper Lee Han Xin Teague’. Every word within my name holds a story, a purpose. ‘Han Xin’ for example, means ‘new beginnings’ in Chinese and was the name given to me by the head director of the orphanage I lived in. Nevertheless, when people first see my face and hear my name, some think, “Oh, she must be adopted because that is such a ‘white’ name’”. But despite my ‘white’ name, I was born in Jiangxi, China, and lived in an orphanage for eleven months until I was brought to Charleston, SC. I was adopted in 2009 by my three loving parents, and I’ve lived in Charleston ever since. Although I don’t truly know the circumstances as to why I was given away by my birth parents, the most plausible reason was likely due to China’s one-child policy, which spanned from 1980-2016. Despite this though, my adoptive parents always made sure to tell me that my birth parents loved me very much and gave me away so I could live a better life. I struggle trying to listen to these comforting words that have been imposed on me since a young age. But I still try my best to believe them, to want to believe them.

Overall though, I am so grateful for all of the opportunities and experiences I have been given due to being adopted. However, no matter the adoptee you ask, I can almost guarantee you that they have all asked themself the same question, “How different would my life be if my parents had kept me?” Unfortunately, no matter how great or not-so-great an adoptee’s life is, it's inevitable that we wonder about these things. Some of us have hopes too. We hope one day that we’ll meet or at least know of our parents and their existence. But sadly, for most of us that will likely remain a pipe dream. So all you can really do is make the best of what you have. Embrace where life has brought you to and the people around you. Don’t fret about the past and your history but rather write and create your own story and identity instead. But in order to acquire this mindset I’ve had to face years of judgment and intrusive comments from others towards my adoption.

Even from a young age, I can remember facing lots of backlash and sneering remarks about my adoption. When I was in elementary school my classmates used to beg me to tell them about my adoption. I reluctantly would because my friends thought it was interesting and ‘cool’ that I wasn’t from here. But every so often a classmate or two would joke and comment on how my parents didn’t ‘want’ me and must not have ‘loved’ me enough since I was adopted. Back then I was unfortunately used to the rude comments I faced for my backstory. However, insults like those never truly go away. Those words shape and scar the minds of young adoptees. The words you’ve wondered and pondered over countless times are finally being thrown in your face while you sit there glassy-eyed and with a forced smile. Over the years, I’ve gone through this same situation a handful of times since I went to a predominantly white school for eleven years. But as I’ve grown up I’ve learned that those words don’t hold any meaning or power over me because I’ve learned to let the words of those who truly matter influence me instead. 

When I was younger I didn’t have much thought towards my adoption. However, around the age of ten, I noticed that my thoughts and feelings toward my adoption started changing. My feelings started to become stronger and more negative towards this part of me. For example, sometimes my intrusive thoughts would get the best of me and whisper in my ear, “Your mom didn’t want you” and “You’ll never find your birth parents”.  Over time though, I've noticed the differences in how I feel after discussing my adoption. When I was little I used to think, “Oh, that’s cool.” and then I’d run off and not even give it a second thought. But on the occasions when I did feel sad afterward, my mom would always give me a warm hug and comfort me. My sadness wouldn’t last longer than five minutes back then and I would be running around, smiling, and playing again in no time. Nowadays, whenever I talk or even think about my parents I tend to feel... Angry. Sad. Confused. These waves of emotions try to knock me down and drown me in their strong current.

Every once in a while there are moments in life when major realizations come to you when you least expect them. That’s exactly what happened to me a few years ago when my mom and I watched a documentary on Netflix called “Found”. The documentary follows the journey of three girls who were adopted from China. At the beginning of the movie, the girls discover they’re cousins through an ancestry website. After finding each other, they decide to hire a detective to find their birth parents. Throughout the movie, you gain insight into the detective’s work process and what methods she uses to find the girl's families. In addition, the three girls travel to China for a vacation. During their stay, they plan on meeting up with the detective and some of the families she’s interviewed. After I first watched this documentary it opened my eyes to the other perspective of adoption. I’d never really considered before the emotional and mental toll it would take upon the parents to give up their baby. Some of the scenes in the movie showed parents crying over the genuine disappointment they felt from not finding their child and it broke my heart to see those families so emotionally shattered.

Seeing this film made me realize that my birth parents were as equally affected by giving me away as I am. Which I had never really considered before. For the first time, I was able to see from their viewpoint. I was able to learn the regret and remorse they felt for giving me away. I was able to hear how their heavy guilt affected them every day. And I was able to see how this guilt would stick with them for the rest of their life. This realization made me understand that I’m not alone and that my birth parents think about me as much as I think about them, which was extremely validating.

Calm tides lead to crashing waves. A few weeks after watching the documentary, I went to dinner with my two Moms, my mom’s close friend, and her husband. We had decided to eat at a restaurant called Sesame before going to see the musical Hamilton at the Coliseum. Once we had all arrived there and gotten seated, conversations started flowing. Yet somehow, through all the talking we ended up on the subject of my mom’s friend and her husband’s kid being adopted. For the sake of anonymity, we’ll call their kid ‘Li’. Li was adopted from Kazakhstan about 17 years ago. Luckily, he was able to find his parents through the orphanage he lived in when he was a baby.  If I were to try to find my birth parents it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. Except the needle would be two small people, and the haystack would be the entire 1.4 billion population of people in China. To continue, my mom’s friend told us that a few years ago Li was given a folder that contained information about his family. However, they hadn’t reached out to them because Li showed no interest in doing so. Li told his parents that he never plans on reaching out to his birth family and he doesn’t want to know them at all. 

After hearing Li’s story, I felt so overwhelmed with emotion that the waves just started rolling in again. Anger. Jealousy. Disgust. I was so infuriated with Li because he had the opportunity to meet his family and he didn’t even seem to care. Li has in his possession actual pictures of his family and even has a paper-copy picture of his birth mom. I would consider myself lucky to even know whether or not my birth mother is still alive. Yet, Li got a folder handed to him stuffed with information and photos of his family. He has so much within his reach and I have nothing. Not a single picture or name. Absolutely. Nothing. I was purely outraged to hear such a special opportunity like that was being wasted. 

However the more I thought about Li’s viewpoint towards being adopted, the more I thought of my own. In some aspects, I can understand and relate to Li. I feel abandoned by my birth parents too sometimes. But unlike him, I don’t necessarily hate them for it. And although it’s taken me a long time, I have come to accept my adoption. I realize now that it's a part of who I am and I shouldn’t be ashamed of it. So in a way, I’m grateful for hearing Li’s perspective because it allowed me to rethink and develop my viewpoint towards my adoption.

Through the years, the main lesson that I have learned from all of these events is that a lot of people limit themselves based on what their parents were able to accomplish. Due to the fact I don’t know my family history, I don’t have these limitations. I was given the opportunity of a fresh start, which enabled me to determine who I’ll become and what I’ll succeed at during my life. And yes, as much as I would love to find my birth parents, I believe it benefits me more in the long run to not know who they are. Their anonymity allows me to grow and thrive without the confinement of their legacies that I would have had to uphold. So in the end, maybe some things are better left unfound.