Gotcha
Very recently marked 29 years since I was brought to the United States from my country of origin. Thankfully, my adoptive parents never attempted to celebrate my "gotcha day," a day and overall concept often dedicated to rescued pets and that many adoptees (rightfully) loathe, instead choosing to sweep the detachment of me from my own home, language, and culture under the rug.
As an adult, I've felt the weight of this day increase with age even though my parents never brought it up. Nevertheless, they (and others) never failed to jump at other opportunities to make me feel like I am supposed to be grateful though.
Lately, a best friend has not checked in with me very much. Without listening to me, they reassure me that any employer would be lucky to have me, that I'm extremely qualified. It's just that the market is tough. These remarks, though not incorrect, are out of touch. The thing is that my current status—helpless and seemingly useless as I remain unemployed with zero job prospects, striving to just tread water financially and meet basic needs so that I can find the time and energy to leave this place—is not distressing because I think I am incompetent or dumb. It is distressing because I have needs, and beyond the absolute essentials, which my biological parents could not deliver and were instead conditionally fulfilled by my adoptive ones, I have never felt allowed allowed to even express most of them, such as acknowledgment of my losses or conflicted feelings. And now it is really about to come full circle as I await decisions on absolute essentials, my applications for unemployment benefits and food stamps.
In light of the increased deployment of ICE agents at domestic airports, the Adoptee Rights Law Center recently advised international adoptees to not fly domestically unless it is necessary and they bring proof of citizenship. You might think this recommendation is bogus, and it may very well be. At the same time, there is hardly any authority to protect or guide international adoptees, regardless of their citizenship status. There is no basis here.
I am a naturalized US citizen. I will not pretend that I am among this administration's top targets; I can recognize my own privilege. I am also in no way claiming that life in my native country would have been "better" for me. But I am flying domestically in less than two weeks, and I am actually more nervous about this than I was for the international trip I took last year. I will likely bring my US passport with me. The actual book, as I do not have a passport card.
I'll probably be fine. But on the whole, it's impossible nowadays for my baseline feelings as an adoptee—alienated, undesired, and unworthy, among others—to not be amplified under the current circumstances. I grew up knowing I could never be the president of this country even though I have spent approximately 98% of my life here. As funny as that is to me, I have never aspired to run this place, so why should I care? I don't. But my childhood self never imagined herself growing up, almost thirty years old and feeling so embittered, close to being unable to meet her basic needs as the place that took her in like a helpless rescue animal now wants to see her choke professionally.
Do I have friends to help me? Yes, and for them I am grateful. I cannot rely on them forever though, and I do not want to rely on anyone financially, period. Yet, that does not change the fact that despite doing everything "right," it is still not enough for this country. I am a law-abiding and tax-paying citizen. I have a PhD in a STEM subject. I speak three languages (like, really speak). While I am not entitled to a cushy job and wealth, I find my current circumstances unfair (if that is not already clear). Under which conditions, if any, can my needs be met now? Which roles must I play next?
I almost feel like I cannot write this because it is too vulnerable, risky even. But if, according to society's narrative, that this country wanted me so much that it would allow narcissistic adoptive parents to strip me of my origins, then why is everything like this? I am not only being driven out of here (if I don't descend into bankruptcy first) because of my profession and training, but I also have to feel like I am at risk when traveling domestically? What gives? Who knows how bad it could get.
This year, I feel like this country is saying "gotcha!" to me.