Holt adoption baby

sell by 12/19/66

Resistance

with one comment

I can’t recall how old I was when the book started crossing my path.

“What’s this?”  I asked my mother.  She explained about Harry Holt and how he and his wife Bertha saved eight Korean war orphans and started the adoption agency where I came from.  It was clear she idolized them.  After she had left the room, I looked at the photos of their ridiculously huge family.  I only looked at the photos because I was too young to read all the big words.  It didn’t pull my heartstrings at all.  Harry Holt kind of looked like Clark Gable, though, and I wondered what kind of man he was.  Bertha looked like she should be milking cows somewhere.  They both scared me.

Over the years, I would run across the book time and again.  It would be sitting on the desk in our family room, out of place, off the shelf.  Or it would move and be on the shelf.  Or it would be on the side table next to the couch.  It kept popping up, in my way.  I was old enough to read now.  I knew someone in the house wanted me to read it and believe.

Isaiah 43:5

Fear not: for I am with you: I will bring your seed from the east, and gather you from the west;

I did it.  The pressure worked somewhat.  I opened the cover.  I read the captions under the photos.  I even read a paragraph or two.  That was all it took.  I vowed to NEVER read that book.

I was never an agry child, a tempermental child.  I was docile and obedient, perfectly mannered 99.9% of the time.  Adoption never came up in my thoughts, and it was never discussed in my home.  I couldn’t dwell upon nor could I explain my refusal to read this book.  But now I can.

I will NEVER read that book.  It was an offense then, and it is an offense now.  It is the rationalization for the taking of almost two hundred thousand children from their families in Korea.  It was done in the name of God, in the name of bringing us unwashed heathens to God.  I can’t believe in a God that would do that.  I can’t believe in charity that would rather condone the separation of parents and children over assisting families in need.

I have been told by other adoptees that the books written by Mrs. Holt are astounding in their rationalizations, and that they are a must read.  But I don’t need to do that, nor do I want to support the Holt adoption agency with one penny.  Even as a child I could recognize propaganda when I saw it.  Even as a child I could distinguish those with true faith over those that were self-serving zealots.  Even as a child I knew deep down in my heart that my identity had been irreparably violated by this act of charity.

I am PROUD to have never participated willingly in embracing my adoption.  I am PROUD of my personal sense of justice.  I am PROUD I never submitted, and PROUD to have preserved this one small sense of self through this one act of rebellion.  I will never relent.

I am NOT NOW and NEVER WAS a seed from the east to be gathered from the west

We shall not, we shall not be moved
We shall not, we shall not be moved
Just like a tree that's standing by the water
We shall not be moved

We shall not, we shall not be moved
We shall not, we shall not be moved
The union is behind us,
We shall not be moved

We shall not, we shall not be moved
We shall not, we shall not be moved
We're fighting for our freedom,
We shall not be moved

We shall not, we shall not be moved
We shall not, we shall not be moved
We're fighting for our children,
We shall not be moved

We shall not, we shall not be moved
We shall not, we shall not be moved
We'll building a mighty union,
We shall not be moved

We shall not, we shall not be moved
We shall not, we shall not be moved
Black and white together,
We shall not be moved

We shall not, we shall not be moved
We shall not, we shall not be moved
Young and old together,
We shall not be moved
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Written by girl4708

November 30, 2008 at 9:29 pm

Posted in Saving Babies for Jesus

Tagged with ,

One Response

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  1. Hi girl4708,

    Another post that tells it all! Although my parents never had any adoption books, I sensed early on that I was expected to be grateful for having been adopted. She even said one time, “you should be grateful that we adopted you”. This came from a woman who was clinically depressed and mentally ill my entire childhood. I wondered often why she adopted me, and how the agencies let her do so if she had a history of mental illness. As an adult, I discovered that legally she wasn’t my adoptive mother. My father had adopted me and somehow her name got put on my birth certificate. I still do not understand that one.

    But, yeah, that picture sickens me too.

    Solim

    February 15, 2010 at 12:25 pm


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