Adoptee interactions that play out daily online took full form this past weekend, as adoptees and birth mothers gathered in person for the National Association of Adoptees and Parents Fall Retreat along the picturesque Lake James in Indiana’s Pokagon State Park.
Day One of the NAAP Fall Retreat
Every day, whether on Facebook or Tiktok, we leave a comment, or we share a post. Sometimes, we band together to support a fellow adoptee or birth mother who’s come suddenly under fire by some poor uniformed soul who wants to preach that “adoption is a gift,” “adoptees are OK,” or that we “disgruntled adoptees” are obviously the anomaly. Yet no matter how supported we feel online, it does not compare to being together in flesh and blood. A moment when we join forces to stand up for not just what we believe, but what we know without a shred of doubt to be true. The holding space, the lock of eyes, the warm hug, the tears shared; and sometimes on occasion the real-life call into battle of the Adoptee Army.
We heard that call just a day into the NAAP retreat — the call to defend the truth that “adoption should be a last resort,” and oh boy did we answer. It all began when a courtyard interloper crashed our book club reading by Lorraine Dusky, author of “Birth Mark” and “Hole in My Heart.” As the words “last resort” exited Lorraine’s mouth, the interloper, a woman who had sat glaring at our group chided, “THAT’S CRAZY.” Well, let’s say that’s the moment the Adoptee Army Uprising at Pokagon State Park began.
Little did we know, as we communed around the campfire the night before, that we would be called to duty the following day. Had we known, we might have brought a war drum; found some way to send a don’t-mess-with-NAAP warning up the hill. We may have begun to strategize on exactly what to say to get through to this lady. But we did not, instead we gathered as all good clans do and shared constellation stories in the primal light of our flickering campfire.
The event had officially begun Friday at 1 pm, with me presenting my black-market baby story, followed by author David B. Bohl, author of the memoir “Parallel Universes,” presenting on The Blue Mind Theory, and Beth Steury sharing her experience with condensing her reunion story into various forms; from the whole 2-hour kit and caboodle, down to the two-minute elevator pitch. Later that evening, I presented a talk about identifying and healing our adoptee wounds, and we closed the day with a pre-recorded meditation from Danielle Gaudette. From there, we all embraced a 50 degree-ish evening under the stars and gathered around the warmth of that fire pit to get to know each other better. With stories shared, tears wiped, and the last of our laughter drifting across the lake, we climbed the big hill back up to the Inn, excited for Day 2 of our event.
Day Two of the NAAP Fall Retreat
Happy Saturday morning sunshine vibes danced across sparkling Lake James, as Day 2 began with a pre-recorded wake-up-the-body tapping session led by Danielle Gaudette. Unfortunately, a presentation on creativity by Emily Alber did not go as planned. Poor Emily came down sick on Day 1 and sadly remained stuck in her cabin. Still, we embraced the artists within each of us and sat together drawing, painting, and coloring. I noticed how easily conversation flowed as our right brain led the way into our creativity and opened our hearts.
Marcie Keithley followed lunch with a moving poem, and Jennifer Fahlsing followed Marcie with a wonderful presentation on the healing power of connecting with nature. Yet a book club spent in the garden with Lorraine proved itself my favorite and for sure the most memorable of our experiences. As everyone pulled up a chair in the warm light of the quaint courtyard, Lorraine began to share her story and read from her latest book.
Few of us noticed the couple who entered the garden and oddly chose a table within earshot of our group. As we hung on each word of Lorraine’s poignant story, the couple began a game of cards. One of the members in our group, sitting directly in the couple’s line of sight, noticed the woman spent more time starting at us than the cards in her hand. This patient member endured the uncomfortable eye-balling and continued to focus on Lorraine’s story. Then, just as Lorraine stopped to open discussion, the interloper inserted her opinion that our truths were “crazy,” and that dear friends, is when the Adoptee Uprising began.
First, one group leader tried to reason with the rude woman that THIS was OUR lived experience, but the woman would have none of it. She began shouting that she had adopted several kids, and her sister had adopted kids, and her adopted kids had adopted kids, and they were ALL JUST FINE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. And of course, not a one “had any interest whatsoever in searching for anybody.” Period.
And that is when our voices united to answer the battle call. We launched back a crescendo of adoption truths, “WE ARE ADOPTEES! We know. We all agree, adoption should be the last resort! Have you asked your children how they feel about being adopted? Either leave, or leave us alone, one or the other!”
Even after imploring the woman to consider the lived experience of adoptees, she inferred we were the wounded few and that we needed to get a grip aka “be thankful.” It was about that time we informed her “we are a national organization,” adding “there are thousands of us.” Alas, nothing swayed the woman to even consider an apology. But boy did the Adoptee Army rise to put that lady in her place.
All the while, Lorraine sat in her chair unphased, a wry “here we go again” smile at home on her face. “That’s why I continue to do what I do,” she said, returning to her story. With the woman hushed, we all did our best Danielle Gaudette-inspired deep breathing and settled back in to hear the rest of Lorraine’s story, which is when our unflappable advocate and author smartly began reading the chapter in her book titled “The Things People Say.”
Saying Goodbye for Now
As NAAP’s 2023 Fall Retreat came to a close, I stood with my daughter Victoria in the courtyard Sunday morning, saying farewell to fellow constellation members, those whom a weekend of communion had transformed into treasured and trusted friends. Having attended Untangling Our Roots in March, I had wished my daughter could have come along with me. This intimate event presented just that opportunity, and she joined me to experience the magic and strength of the adoption constellation.
A professional photographer, Victoria also volunteered to do headshots for attendees, and that is what led to our final garden goodbyes that Sunday morning. Lorraine and a few other attendees had elected to extend their stay to Sunday, meaning they could take advantage of the kind morning light for their photo sessions. With photos snapped, we parted ways, promising to see each other again soon, either online or in person at the next Untangling Our Roots event in Denver. And as hugs gave way to goodbyes, we talked about how good it felt to stand strong in real life and rise up together in flesh and blood, a small battalion with a big cause, gathering strength in numbers at the Potawatami Inn.
