I wasn’t always comfortable with my identity as an adoptee. Even now, I’m not sure I can confidently own this part of myself, simply because so much of my life has been torn between three worlds. I grew up constantly unsure of where I belonged, if there was even somewhere for me to belong, but I have since reconciled with the fact that whether I’m ‘British’ enough or ‘Chinese’ enough or ‘American’ enough is no one’s business but my own.

I came across the National Leadership Network (NLN) by chance when reading through the weekly care-support newsletter from my university. As I was in the stages of coming to terms with adoption and was interested in their work, I applied, and this, I can confidently say, was one of the best decisions I’ve made in my life thus far; I feel truly privileged to be a part of this work. It is amazing how much care experience and the care community are becoming ever more front and centre within Scotland’s discussions. There are now continuous calls for change and for action raised. The care community and sector work to build spaces for our voices and push for a future that’s more inclusive to our community – but this does not mean that there aren’t pitfalls.

Like any massive movement, the care community and sector find themselves overwhelmed with so much that plenty slips between the cracks. It just so happens that adoption seems to be one of those lost. I first noticed this when reading in my own time to supplement my work with the NLN and ProjectChange (a charity dedicated to embedding lived experience within workspaces), finding that much of the wording (whether in documents or initiatives) of support systems seemed excluding to adoption, or mentioned it as an afterthought.

Adoption bears an odd status, as it is often treated as the goal or a ‘good thing’, even though ‘being adopted’ guarantees experiencing at least one of the same experiences as anyone else in the community. In fact, many adoptees I know don’t even consider themselves as ‘care experienced’ because they feel their experience is somehow too far removed from the rest of the community. Many adoptee parents don’t know about the support (albeit lacking in comparison) that exists for them or their children because, in the system’s eyes, they’re a success and no longer of concern – a narrative that must change.

This is how I ended up as a voice advocating for further representation of that which I used to despise. My relationship, and apparently the sector’s relationship, with adoption is complicated, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t deserve the same time of day as any other aspect of my identity or of the care community’s attention.

I implore you to listen for conversations or to keep an eye out for texts which make assertions about ‘family.’ Language is powerful and shapes opinions on everything, including adoption. The next time you hear someone laugh and say, ‘you’d think they’re adopted’ or read ‘breastfeeding creates the strongest bonds,’ just think about the implications of this and what these convey to someone who is adopted. Continue to question your own perceptions of family, and to the sector: I urge you to consider that the trauma and experience doesn’t disappear just because one finally has ‘a family.’

Gemma Smith is featured on 30 Under 30 2024. Read more about her on her profile.