Recently I read an article about the “The White Savior Industrial Complex”, which describes the so-called mentality of some Caucasian, middle class, educated Americans, who out of their great pity for some impoverished minority soul, swoop in with their power, privilege and pure intentions to rescue them from their current poverty and a grim future. The article pointed out how this narrative makes for compelling stories in popular media (Just ask Sandra Bullock, she won an Oscar portraying this role in “The Blind Side”). We love heroes who use their privilege and power to bring freedom to a sympathetic someone who is subsequently gifted hope and possibility through their benefactor. Who wouldn’t love a story like that?
But maybe we love such heroes primarily because we identify more closely with the hero rather than the person being "helped". The essay argued that those with power and privilege must exercise great humility and sensitivity in helping the disempowered, less they assume their own status in society is the standard of normalcy to which everyone aspires. Without humility and sensitivity, I can see how they could develop a "White Savior Industrial Complex".
This “Complex” description made me pause and think about what our family is in the midst of doing. Kameron and I are in the process of adopting a poor, black, African orphan into our white, middle class, educated, family. This will not be a subtle reality for friends, family and our community. For the next 18 years, our Christmas card will depict two white parents with three children, one black and two white. In Alabama.
To be clear, we chose Ethiopia because they have a large number of orphans in need of homes and their requirements and our family’s “profile” seem to be a natural fit.
We realize that there will be some educating to do whenever we move into a new community, and some skin to be thickened toward the certain comments and actions that may be hurtful in the coming years. We simply do not care about how much pigment is in our child’s skin, for “red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight.” While we cannot fully appreciate the challenges that a multiracial family can confront, we expect that there will be some. Frankly, our attitude is that any challenge we face will be miniscule compared to the joy of adding this child to our family, and we will weather any storm that may come, together.
So do we have the “Complex”…?
Do we feel a sense of calling to adopt an orphan? Yes.
Do we think we can, despite our imperfections, offer our new child the loving home of which they are in need? Yes.
Do we hope to give our child access to health care and opportunities for education that they might not otherwise have? Yes.
Do we pat ourselves on the back for “rescuing” an African child out of poverty and into a middle-class white family? No.
Let me explain. If we ever had any “Complex” notions of being the image of normalcy for white, middle class, educated, Protestants, the Home Study has put those notions to bed. The Home Study is an in depth evaluation of any person or family who intends to foster or adopt. It includes a home visit by social workers; social workers with clip boards and check lists. They wander through your home, peering into your closets and judge your lifestyle and personal belongings. They look for fire extinguishers and smoke alarms and outlet covers. They require you to lay out your plans for sleeping arrangements and furniture for the new child. And after peeking into every corner and rummaging through your home and all your financial details, then, they get personal.
Each adult is required to write a 12-15 page autobiography, outlined by a 50+ question guide they give you. You answer questions about your parent’s marriage, their religious beliefs, which parent you bonded with at an early age, the way they disciplined, how much money they made, your temperament as a child, your siblings and their families, your personal strengths and weakness, your spouses personal strengths and weaknesses, how many people did you date before marriage, etc. Then, when this autobiography is submitted, each prospective parent is required to sit through a 90 minute interview with your social worker in which they read between the lines of the autobiography and ask more probing questions. We have been forced to confront every personal weakness, every conflict in our marriage, and every imperfection in the parenting of our parents. It is incredibly thorough and invasive with no stone, toilet seat or credit check left unturned. Imagine if the IRS hired a neurotic and caffeinated Dr. Phil as a private investigator to research you and your family back to the moment you were born…you getting the picture yet? No one can endure this process without being made sharply aware of their inadequacies, peccadillos, and baggage. There is not a corner in our life that is sterile enough for arrogance or ego-centrism or a "Complex" to reside in.
But that is only one side of the experience.
The other side is that in being forced to lay your personal and family life bare before others, you begin to take inventory of all the good that has been poured into your life by those who love you most.
Despite the faults that accompany all people, we have had incredibly loving family members who have believed in us and encouraged us to fulfill our potential. We have friends that have supported us with their love and presence, simply because the love of God fills their hearts. And if that isn’t enough, the winds of favor have blown many days in our direction, bringing us blessings we never could have earned. Simply put, Kameron, Henry, Amelia and I are the recipients of grace from too many family and friends to count.
To paraphrase Nelson Henderson, we “sit in the shade of trees we did not plant.” Our Home Study has reminded us of just how deep and wide and long we have been cared for by friends and family. And we find ourselves humbled again as we trace the arc of grace that bends round us, round us. And we didn’t earn any of it.
So, no, we are not adopting because we think of ourselves as saviors. We are not self-proclaimed do-gooders who desire recognition. And we imagine there are families that could be “better” for our coming child than we can be.
But we still move slowly forward toward that day when a little boy or girl from Ethiopia will become a part of our family here in Alabama. The simple fact is that we have enjoyed the shade too long, not to try our hand at planting a tree too.
We deeply desire to show God’s love to one of His own by making him or her one of our own. Please be in prayer for all five of us during this journey.
In God’s grace,
Nathan, Kameron, J. Henry & Amelia (and Baby Number Three!)
