let’s destroy the “adoptee becomes villain” trope, please.
(did I ever mention how much I hate that line? because I really hate that line.)
My youngest sister was adopted from China almost ten years ago. As a relatively dark-skinned Asian surrounded by Caucasian siblings, it’s pretty obvious that’s she’s not a blood relation.
She’s always known where she came from.
We have a multi-page scrapbook detailing the journey my mum and dad took to bring her home. Every year, our family makes a trip to meet up with other families that were in the same travel group and adopted the same time as we did. She talks about it, make jokes about it (”did you know that the majority of the Chinese population is descended from Ghengis Khan because he had so many kids? so I’m probably royalty), and openly discusses the very real possibility that one of the girls in our adoption group could be her twin sister.
So why is the state of being adopted such a major motivation for turning evil in films and books, and such an uncomfortable topic within fiction? To illustrate what I mean, here’s a basic sequence of events:
person is adopted–usually as an infant
parents raise said child.
parents consciously avoid telling the kid that they’re (gasp!) adopted.
kid enters their teen years. starts becoming self-conscious and asking questions. parents avoid answering questions (and usually lie).
kid finds out they’re adopted through some other means.
the above sequence becomes their villain backstory.
First off: I know at least ten multi-ethnic families, with kids adopted from Uganda, Ethiopia, Russia, the Phillipines, China, etc. This nonsense of “parents lying to the kid about the fact that they’re adopted” just doesn’t happen. In fact, the families I know–including my own–actively engage in the culture of their child’s homeland and encourage learning about it at home.
Second: adoption doesn’t have to be a divisive issue between the parent and child, or even between the siblings. It only becomes foreign and divisive if it’s never talked about. These parents in fiction think they’re somehow protecting their child when they withhold that information, but in reality it just makes it that much harder when the truth does come out. In order to normalize something, it has to be discussed frequently and casually. Adoption isn’t bad. It’s not awkward, it’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s reality. So treat it that way.
Thirdly: this doesn’t have a lot to do with the whole “adoptee-to-villain” trope, but I felt it was necessary to mention. The term “real” son/daughter frankly makes me sick. If anyone called me the “real daughter” of my mom and dad, I would abandon all Christian principles and pound that person’s face into a bloody pulp, Winter-Soldier style.
That kind of crap will not stand. You know why?
Because parenthood is more than a state of biological relation or a legal statement on a piece of paper. It’s the act of raising a child and devoting your time, energy, and resources to them. It’s loving them enough to tell them when they’re doing the wrong thing. It’s giving them a home, food, clothing, bedtime stories, Christmas gifts, and more second chances than they will ever deserve. It’s self-sacrifice.
To conclude: My youngest sister is the “real” daughter of my mom and dad, as am I. They are her “real” parents, and they alone. Anyone who says otherwise is (1. ignorant and (2. will possibly be hospitalized.
Also, I would really love for my youngest sister to be able to watch a film about an adopted kid where their biggest struggle doesn’t center around the fact of their adoption.