It seems that now the Haitian government has decided to release the 10 "missionaries" and let them return to the US. If I were Silsby, I would sneak out the back door and run.
Bastardette's blog for today has the story and part of that story hit me right in the gut. It seems that while the Haitians were questioning the wing nut and her 9 little goobers, the children they had acquired by conning their parents were in the background, crying for their mothers. Is there a sadder sound on this earth than a child crying for his/her mother or a mother crying for her child?
It has been researched and postulated that our children, taken for adoption as infants, cried for us in pre-verbal grief. Of course the social workers and adopters did not want to think that the baby was actually grieving the loss of the most important person in their new, little lives. According to adopter and author, Nancy Verrier, in her book, "The Primal Wound," that is exactly what was happening. While I don't agree with all Verrier has to say in any of her publications, I am grateful that she brought this fact to the attention of the public. There is a wound, it is deep, it is painful and it leaves a painful scar.
I wonder, when I was crying for my children, after surrender, if they were also crying for me? I wonder if we all felt the wrongness of being separated? Did we all feel the aching, empty place, the confusion and incompleteness of the great Not There? A mother explained to her adult, reunited child that she was threatened with conditions of dire poverty for herself and her child if she did not surrender. The adoptee replied, "I would rather have struggled in poverty with you than to have lived in luxury without you."
These Haitian little ones didn't care about a good school, clothes, televisions and Game Boys...they wanted their people. They needed, more than anything, their mothers. The arrogance of these people who take these children from their homes, kin and cultures leaves me furious and incredulous at the same time. How smugly comfortable it must be to be so sure that your religion, your culture and your ideals are better than those of the people from another culture. If anyone wants to know what makes the Ugly American so homely, it is this attitude. We even have perpetrated this ugliness on our own citizens, and I am talking about the mothers of the Era of Mass Surrender and all mothers who have been conned by agents and industry propaganda into thinking themselves toxic to their own babies.
I just want to see this reach the next level of correcting the wrong that was done and that is to deliver aid and help to the families so that they can all be together as Nature intended. We are not helping by taking their children, America! Those of you who are clamoring for a Haitian child or have managed to snag one are not saviors. You are meeting your own needs using a tragic disaster to do so.
No, you are not heroes. And I am not sorry I said so.
2 comments:
I was finally able to obtain my birth records from the hospital along with nursery notes and my footprints. I can barely read the notes, but on the day the attorney came to pick me up, it was noted that my heart rate was elevated because of excessive crying. It makes me so sad to even right this.
((((Peach))))
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