I read this story over at my yawdie’s place, The Field Negro, about a (White) woman who decided to give up her (Black) adopted son after several months. 

 “The first time I considered giving up D. I was lying alone in my oversized bed. It was about midnight, my children were asleep and my husband was deployed. I was so taken aback by my thoughts that I bolted upright, ran to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. It was dark, but I could see my silhouette in the mirror and I stared to see if I was looking at a demon instead of D.’s mother.” Read the rest of the story here.

We live in a disposable world. Our senses are bombarded everyday with stories and images of how governments, rebels, insurgents, terrorists… featuring the “Browns and Blacks” of this planet… casually dispose of each other. We watch and read about how at home… whether that home is in America, Europe and even Canada… similar “Browns and Blacks” are disposed of in a variety of ways, by the hands of their own or by the agents of the State. We watch and read… being almost deaf, blind and numb to these incidents… as our main concerns are focused on acquiring more, and more, and more… of our hearts’ desires.

However, we place no lasting intrinsic value on anything we have been blessed to acquire into lives, including people. Regardless of how easy or difficult it has been to acquire, we dispose of things and people even easier. Relationships, marriages and anything else which we valued at one time but now consider to be garbage, is now easily separated and placed into it’s proper bin for disposal and recycling… and some else picks it up for us on it’s specified date… and our lives continues uninterrupted.

My wife and I are in the process of adopting a daughter and sister to our (biological) son. We have always wanted to adopt a child and we decided to wait until we had our first child, and then adopt one of the opposite gender. I will admit the process is a lot more involved than I had anticipated. I thought it would be easy to adopt, as we sincerely want to… and have the resources to… provide a loving and stable home for an “unwanted” child. We have gone to a number of informational sessions in regards to domestic and international adoptions. The one thing that has stuck with me is the words of one of the counselors that impressed upon us that once you adopt a child, it’s no longer about you! Once that child enters into your care, their well-being is now your primary responsibility and you must be committed to deal with “the good, the bad and the ugly”. They are not disposable, like a family pet that is returned to the pound after a few months because no one wants to be bothered to care for it.

What disgusts (and I do mean “disgust!”) me most about this story, is how according to this woman, “after waiting many long months” to “finally hold and kiss my son”, it took only “several weeks” for her to dispose of him… put him out to be “recycled” by another (albeit better) family. Her depiction of how her own 5 daughters… Baby D’s sisters… were more attached to Spongebob… a cartoon character… than to acknowledging the imminent loss of “their brother”, says to me that they also learnt to consider him to be disposable like the trash they easily put out once a week and never give a second thought.       

On the surface it may appear that I am criticizing or condemning the actions of this woman or her family, but in reality that is not my intent. This is not about her, although I did find that her article is all about her and her feelings. This is also not about her family. It’s about ‘Baby D’ and other children like him, who become innocent victims, (who have already been victimized I will add), of our society’s addiction to acquiring the latest fad, the “newest” and “coolest” trinket, without any true appreciation of its actual value. 

Although we may not be able to afford the expensive material things or have the glamorous lifestyle of our beloved celebrities such as Brangelina or Madonna, in this way we can be like them. We can acquire people like they can… little Brown and Black people… who come cheap and are fortunate that a White American family wants to own them, so they can be added to the collection of “stuff” to show off to families, friends, neighbors and strangers… until the thrill wears off and reality sets in. Then comes garbage day.