I Wish For Us Choice

I’ve sat down to write this many times in the last almost two years. The night I stood in the cold outside the Supreme Court Building and watched the crowds fight over their beliefs as Amy Coney Barrett was sworn into the highest court of the nation. I wasn’t there to protest or support, although I wasn’t in favor of her nomination and new title. I was there to do what I do — take out a notebook, find a space for myself, witness, and write.

Of the many moments that I stepped into, the one that shook me back to where I come from was an interaction with a white, Christian family. The parents brought their children out to witness this history and the family tried to talk with folks about their belief in the pro-life movement. This much I expected. Evangelism is routinely an all-family affair. What caught me by surprise was seeing their young disabled daughter strapped to the back of the father who engaged me in conversation. Quickly it became evident that, like myself, she was a transnational transracial adoptee.

The two of us we were miles from home, surrounded by an unforgiving crowd gathered under an October sky, and I couldn’t help but feel my heart breaking for all we had lost to be here tonight.

I swear for a moment there I stopped breathing and I started remembering that I don’t know who I come from or what decisions led up to my being abandoned. I let…