Brown Eyed Blue Eyed

During one of my English classes in College, my teacher assigned us all narrative essays. It would be used as a writing sample and  help her to access our growth by the end of the term. I thought I would share portions of my paper with you. This is not the completed original version as I deleted parts of it and tried to fluff out a few details. 

Brown Eyed Blue Eyed

Throughout my twenty four years of life I have never needed to question the fact that I was adopted. Not once have I felt the need to ask my parents if I were blood related. The simple fact is that I have brown skin and prominent brown eyes and my two older brothers have white skin and blue/green eyes. Never have I felt compelled to question whether the woman I called, “Mom”, was actually biologically related to me. Our difference in blood never seemed to affect my bond with my two older brothers.  In fact, our relationship continues to remain solid as the years go on.

My parents had two biological sons together before deciding to adopt a daughter. My eldest brother was born in 1984, followed seventeen months later by the birth of my other brother. I have never met my birth parents and know nothing about them. I have always called the adults that adopted me, “Dad and Mom”. They are the only parents and I know and the only people I consider deserving of the title of “my parents”. They discovered me at the Phayatai Orphanage also known as Babies home. The orphanage was located in Thailand’s metro region of Bangkok. Since the late 1990’s the orphanage merged with another orphanage named Pakkret. When the two orphanages merged together it took on the name of Phayatai Orphanage and became the largest one in Thailand. The lengthy adoption process for me to become a MacWilliam began in the middle of 1987.

Mandy early years (16)

My eldest brother is two years older than me, and the other is five months older. We grew up attending the same schools together. School is where I first started to realize I was “different” from my brothers. When I was not with them I always just assumed that people knew we were a family. My peers started to make assumptions about my family. It was never a second thought to me that the two boys I had grown up practically my whole life with were my brothers.  Classmates who did not know the inner workings of my family would immediately jump to the conclusion that my whole family was Thai. Most would become beyond shocked when I would state that my brothers were both over six feet tall and had blue/green eyes. They would take my statement as a silly joke or some mistake I had just uttered. The best reactions would come from showing a family picture to some classmates in grade 12. I could read their expressions; the utter shock and confusion that would rush over their faces. Most were politically correct in their responses, “Oh that’s nice. Or that’s a nice looking family.” Truthfully the expressions I enjoyed best were the ones that were completely uncensored. Once I showed a picture of my family to my friend and she immediately blurted out, “they are white”! Just complete shock that the whole time we had been friends she had just assumed my family was Thai like me. A friend who was with us at the time was embarrassed by the outburst which made me laugh that much harder. The uncensored reaction was more welcomed then the uncomfortable feelings people often tried to hide upon their discoveries. (A note to be made is that I was living in a boarding school at the time so no one knew much about my family or ever met any members).Once when my family was on a trip together and my brothers and I were in our teens, a couple in their early sixties commented to my parents that, “My your two boys and their friend sure play nicely together”. My parents were quick to correct the nice couple by informing them that those three kids were siblings and they have always grown up enjoying each other’s company. To this day I still somewhat enjoy seeing people’s reactions to discovering my brothers have a different skin colour than me. When I am telling people stories about my family I never feel the need to mention the difference in their colour skin to mine. It does not matter to me. It is just an assumption that people cannot help to make and I’m accepting of that.

I do not care in the least that I was adopted into a Caucasian family instead of an Asian one. The colour of my skin has not negatively affected my bonds with my brothers or parents. People will see me and continue to assume I have brown siblings and parents and I will be more than happy to correct them proudly when the timing is right.

–>Reading this paper back makes me wish I had the energy to write an autobiography! Sometimes the mood hits where I LOVE WRITING!

The topic of my skin colour in comparison to my family’s does NOT affect my bond with my family. What does BOTHER me is how people always come up to me asking me where I am from BECAUSE of the colour of my skin. I will end this post now but promise to make one on the subject of having brown skin….I know my friends will laugh when they read it as they are constantly witnessing or hearing of my “Filipina stories”.

I have been on a roll with this blogging! I will warn you that my updates will slow down soon. Right now I am just completing and tweaking all these notes I have on my computer. Soon I will have to start my posts from scratch again.

As always, thanks for reading!
Buddha Blessings to everyone,
xox Amanda Sumalee

**Happy Mother’s Day to my Mom and all the mothers reading this blog 🙂

I FEEL Canadian, I LOOK Thai

This is my journey, MY LIFE. I am beyond excited but scared to death about finally going to Thailand. Wherever it takes me, and whatever I discover will be my story. Curiosity is the strongest feeling pulling me back to my place of birth.

While at the doctors I had to fill out the standard personal information form. One of the questions was ethnicity/nationality. It stumped me. I starred at it for what felt like eternity. I questioned myself as to what I should write down. I KNEW I should write down Thai, but I really wanted to put Canadian. Had someone been with me, I would have definitely written down whatever they suggested. I did not have wi-fi at the time but as soon as I got home I asked my Aunt what she thought I should have done. The same feelings were brought up again while filling out a New Zealand census form. I had to write down my nationality and place of residency….I was born in Thailand but lived my whole life in Canada. If Thai-Canadian was an option there would have been no need for hesitation.

IMG_1243

When the doctor looked me over she asked me where I was from? I told her Canada and she immediately gave me this look of disbelief. This cold glare like I was trying to lie to her. I could feel her looking my whole body over. I FELT obligated to tell I have lived in Canada all my life but I was born in Thailand. Why do I have to feel so defensive when stating that I am Canadian? It’s as if her glare was her warning to tell me the truth or she would not continue the exam. When I told her I lived in Canada practically my whole life she told me I had ASIAN ears, was I from the Philippines? I had to restate that I was born in Thailand but lived in Canada virtually my whole life. I know the atmosphere of a doctor’s office always comes off as intrusive but I felt beyond uncomfortable and defensive.

I have never met an adoptee who doesn’t wonder about their origins. Adoptees share a unique bond: we are consumed by our loneliness. We don’t openly talk about it but it’s apparent. My life never had a defining moment of a “big reveal” of my adoption story. My parents never had to tell me on my 18th birthday (like someone I knew), or sit me down for any big discussion. There was no need for suspicious thoughts as I was always aware I wasn’t their biological child. I was brown and EVERYONE else in my Dad and Mom’s family are Caucasian. No matter how loved you are, being adopted harvests a visceral feeling of loneliness . Every adoptee has a shared experience of rejection followed by loss. I am not saying the heavy rainstorm can’t create a magnificent rainbow…but a rainbow is impossible without the rain.

I am not wanting to delve too deeply in this conversation now because I would like to try as best as possible to put my thoughts into an array of posts. Divide my thoughts up.

These posts about my adoption are personal. I would like to make them as honest and raw as possible without breaching my own level of comfort. It is not my intention to hurt anyone’s’ feelings. I hope to be as honest as possible. Maybe sharing my thoughts on the topic can help others open up about their experiences. Reading about other peoples’ journeys has helped me to heal.  I have amassed some notes from books I have read and hope to post my thoughts on my newly acquired information in upcoming post.

Sincerely yours,
Amanda Sumalee

PLEASE comment or message me privately to share your thoughts. I would love to hear suggestions or personal stories from my readers. I have never been a member of an adoptee support group but have read about some in the United States of America. Anyone have any information on online ones? xo