Black/White/Brown Adoptee
A guest blog by Mike Burrett for the Black and Adopted Series
“Being Black growing up in an interracial family was tough for me.”
My name is Mike. I am a 41-year-old man from Bedfordshire in the South-East of England. I am Black, though I often identify as ‘Brown.’
I was adopted at birth by white parents, who adopted an Asian child before me. They went on to have two children naturally. We are a very culturally mixed family.
I have always known I was adopted, well, for as long as I can remember. And you might say, it’s pretty obvious!
Growing up in a mixed family had many ups and some downs. It was doubtful that we would grow up with racial prejudices and mix with people from all backgrounds. Though I remember many occasions where people would stop and stare when I was with my family, people at school would often ask who they were and how we could possibly be related. This was a constant reminder that I was ‘different.’
Right from my teenage years, I felt like I didn’t fit in – anywhere. I wasn’t Black, I wasn’t white, nor was I mixed-race. Rather than accept that I was just ‘me,’ I didn’t identify with a particular colour, race, or ethnicity. Many of my friends were white, though I did have a couple of Black friends.
I have only dated white girls, and I often wonder if that is due to my upbringing or personal preference. I doubt it would be the case if I grew up with my birth family. My lack of identity affects me in every way possible; how I dress, act, talk and feel about myself. A few years ago, I had a suicide attempt, which I now believe stems from my adoption.
I rarely put myself in situations where I am surrounded by people of the same skin colour as me, as I feel uncomfortable. The only time I do is when I have my hair cut – I go to a Black barbers. There is a specific expectation of me that I will understand slang, Jamaican language, know how to treat my hair, and talk about my heritage.
My [adoptive] parents have done so much to help me feel in touch with my roots, from music to Black history, but I just never felt I could relate to it.
Adoption itself is challenging – not knowing who we are, where we come from, why we were rejected. In the past few years, I finally started looking for support and guidance from other adult adoptees. Interesting words came up for me, such as rejection, trauma, and even grief. Things that I realised I felt but never understood previously.
I couldn’t say that being a Black adoptee was necessarily more difficult, but being Black growing up in an interracial family was tough for me personally. It would be so easy to say that all children should be adopted by parents of their own cultures and beliefs. It would be great if people didn’t have to be adopted at all, but that is not practical. If there were two equally suitable adoptive families, one from the same background and one from a different background to the child, I would prefer them to go with the parents from their own ethnicity. However, I would not want a child to remain in care for months or years, waiting for the ‘perfect’ family.
I am married to a white woman, and we have two mixed-race boys. My family knows I am adopted, and my boys often ask questions about it, which I am happy to talk about.
The search to find my birth family started a few years ago - I am still awaiting contact, but who knows what the future holds?