So after reading Transracial Adoption and Motherhood, I started to think about the topic of motherhood and adoptive parenting in terms of feminism. I asked myself do white people who adopt children of color have an obligation to raise the child to be aware of their cultural identity. And if these adoptive mothers are helping a child/children in need, should they also care about the system that is making it so these mothers have to give up their children/or have their children taken away from them. The stereotypes about black women and motherhood are problematic. Stereotypes label black mothers as angry, negligent, and selfish. Others are weary of queer mothers because the child will have two mommies and not a mother and a father. So I thought about all of this and wrote a monologue from the perspective that is rarely told, the mother who loses their child.
You think I like being on welfare. Being barely able to feed my family. Yeah you live off this shit and tell me how luxurious it is. Ridiculous. Yea here it my Gucci food stamps. My lois vatan government cheese. This seasons winter collection from yours truly community coat drive. That is a lie they tell themselves so they don’t feel like the ass holes. And God forbid they give to a charity that isn’t Africa. I ain’t got nothing against my brothas and sistas from the mother land, but you got brothas and sistas here who are starving just the same. It’s a damn shame. We not the kind poor people they want to help. We the wrong kinda poor for their generosity. Ridiculous.
They don’t know what it’s like not to be able to feed the child you brought into this world. Trying to make ends meet, put food on the table, and clothes on they back. They don’t know the times that I went without so I could give them the little bit I did have. All anyone wants to ask me is where is they daddy? Why I’m not married? Why I keep having these kids? Nobody is asking me if they can lend me a helping hand. And guess who got my babbies? This nice white family who don’t live no where near here. I was working two jobs, trying to show the court that I could provide for my babies. I did everything that social worker told me to do. But by then, they told me it was too late. They took them from my arms, and I sobbed into their shoulders and told them mommy still loves you. That was a year ago, and my babies were 2 and 3 years old. Do you think they gonna remember me? That they momma did everything she could to keep them, but it wasn’t enough. I can’t even look my family in the face. This shame is going to weigh on me for the rest of my life. And I’ll still wonder how they doing, are they good in school, do they look like me, and if they know they momma love them.