It’s cool that the first adoptee has been selected for this year’s Gerber Baby contest. Yes, young Magnolia is adorable. But her viral story is what many refer to as an adoption fairy tale—one of many seemingly feel-good news stories that are always centered on the “amazing” adoptive parents’ experience, designed to make society gush.
Compliments are usually applied in thick, giving props to the adoptive parents for how giving and selfless they are, and how lucky their children are (even though these are praises that would feel gross slathering onto parents of biological children—not to mention, often imply racial and/or class superiority). In one post shared on social media, someone lauded, “This child was adopted into a loving family who get the complexities of adoption.”
I was glad to learn Magnolia’s is an open adoption, which will go a long way for Magnolia and both her first and adoptive parents. But if her new family really understood the complexities of adoption, they would honor a few important rules:
1. Do not use your adopted child to win a contest, to gain publicity, or to spread your personal message.
Adoptees have already been used to create, or add to, a family. It may sound harsh without the typical sugarcoated adoption talk rooted in savior-ism, but it is a logistical truth: Adoptees (and first/birth parents) are used in order to make adoption a reality.
If this were a common understanding between all in the adoption constellation, we would understand how complex this is for an adopted child. But with sensitivity around this, parents could make a concerted effort to ensure that any using of their adopted child stops there.
No parent should further use any adopted child to enter a contest, for post-contest national publicity, or with an agenda to highlight how “beautiful” adoption is. (Adoption can certainly be beautiful, but it is ALWAYS much more complex than that since it starts with family separation and trauma.)
2. Make room for ALL of an adoptee’s feelings.
My heart aches by the pressure already piled onto Magnolia via her parents’ and our culture’s commitment to a happy story.
“She brings us so much joy,” said her father in a 3rd hour of TODAY interview. “She’s always happy,” he added, before describing her as “the happy little girl that she always is.”
In describing Magnolia’s personality, Gerber’s announcement shared that she “brings joy to everyone she meets.”
First of all, how do the joyful emotions felt by others say anything at all about Magnolia’s personality?
And where is the room in all of this for Magnolia’s complete mix of feelings? Who has ever met a child who is ALWAYS happy? Anyone who’s been around a young child for six minutes knows that’s a ridiculous description. No such child exists … except in a weary parent’s dreams, when entertaining the fantasy of parenting a robot occasionally sounds appealing!
What happens over her lifetime when Magnolia is forced to live up to this pressure to always be happy and bring others joy? Will she question her existence? Her purpose? Is her life really only about bringing other people joy? How will she bring joy to herself, if it’s ingrained in her to always be focused outward?
What about her other feelings? Magnolia holds more feelings inside than simply happiness, even if her adoptive dad doesn’t yet notice her full range. Will there be room for Magnolia to feel emotions often labeled as “negative,” such as frustration? Anger? Jealousy? Fear? Sadness?
Speaking of sadness, where is the room for her grief? Adoption begins with loss, lest we forget. Magnolia lost her first mother, open adoption or not. As anyone who’s lost a parent at any age can attest, parental loss can be painful, and can take years, or even up to a lifetime, to process. It’s even harder to process when it’s preverbal and unrecognized. Magnolia may not have the words and consciousness now, but she has experienced deep loss that hasn’t simply disappeared because she was placed into a happy, new environment.
If the “happy” narrative is doggedly pressed, and if her adoptive mother continues believing it’s good that “we celebrate adoption every single day,” will there be room for Magnolia to mourn the loss that is also a part of her story? Or will Magnolia, like so many adoptees, stuff her unsanctioned feelings deep, to the point of depression and self-attack?
3. Keep adoption a private matter.
Sharing that a child is adopted is completely up to the adoptee and those closest to the family. Magnolia’s adoptive mother did not need to call this out on the TODAY show, or with Gerber at any point in the contest process. It doesn’t matter how obvious it may be, looks-wise. It’s nobody’s business but the adoptee’s.
Magnolia is a not a prop. She is a human being, who might one day be upset that her adoption was shared so publicly before she was old enough to understand the long-term consequences and provide consent.
Now that she’s been brought onto the public stage, we all know Magnolia’s personal details—details best shared with those closest to her. It can be painful for adoptees to be cornered into talking about being adopted when others nosily prod. Adoptees already stand out in the family, without shared genealogy. Throughout childhood and adolescence it can be even more uncomfortable standing out. Talking or not talking about being adopted should be Magnolia’s choice. But being appointed “the spokesbaby” for adoption takes the choice away from her.
To that end, I feel torn even writing about young Magnolia. I have been sitting on sharing this post for almost a week now. But since she has already been thrown into the spotlight, and in the interest of education and advocacy for all adoptive families, I also feel it’s important to voice the many things that are inherently problematic with this situation—not only for Magnolia, but also for society at large.
Whenever we’re confronted with these kinds of stories that are dripping with the sweetness of fantasy, please keep in mind that anything related to adoption is more layered and complex than we may first be led to believe.
