“Isn’t it strange to think that for so long your children were your only blood relatives? You smile, remembering when you held them and rocked them while that thought went through your head over and over again. And you cried when each of your boys turned 18 months old, because that’s how old you were when you were removed from your family. You studied their innocent faces, felt the power of their entire trust in you for being there for them. And you knew you would do whatever it took to keep your children with you. Whatever. It. Took.”
American Indian children who are adopted into white families are accompanied by the supernova that occurs when race, history, and policy collide. We don’t fit anywhere because of cultural structures that are so deeply inbedded in the U.S. as to be nearly invisible. The theories of ethnic group belonging, social hierarchy and capitals, and social […]
I have been invited as a featured author for a Q & A presentation for the House Museum Book Club, part of History Colorado. Recently, Bitterroot: A Salish Memoir of Transracial Adoption was chosen. I am so honored to have been invited to be part of this discussion. In 2021, History Colorado awarded Bitterroot the […]
