My Adoption Story Part 3: The Passive Years

Mom pointing to me to signify she had picked me to adopt

At 11 years old, I was told I was adopted. At 18 years old, I found out I had a Colombian name. For the next 18-19 years, would this new knowledge have an impact on me?

One question I often get asked when my adoption comes up in conversation is, “Didn’t you have any desire to learn more about your heritage or find your biological parents as you got older?” To which I’d often reply, “Not really.”

You have to understand, I was adopted at 5 months old and grew up in a small town in Michigan. The demographics of my hometown was (and still is) probably 98% white and I was one of the few kids that were of a different ethnicity. I was part of a loving family and was very active in sports and outside activities. That was my reality. That was my world. I didn’t know anything else.

As I went through college, I was consumed with classes and being part of my Fraternity. The college I went to was predominately white and the Fraternity I was part of was predominately white, so I wasn’t sitting around and pondering my Colombian heritage and adoption. I was living my life.

I recall meeting my first ever Colombian, Laura, when our paths crossed in college. We’re still Facebook friends to this day. While I don’t remember our first interaction clearly, I do recall she was incredibly excited to find out I was Colombian. She couldn’t believe it! In our first few interactions, she would ask me a number of questions about being adopted from Colombia but I had little share. I’d tell her what I knew and that would be it.

After college, I’d travel for my Fraternity as a national consultant for 2 years and then pursue a career in Higher Education for a number of years. It wasn’t until I moved to Florida in the year 2010 that I started to want to learn more about my Colombian heritage.

In 2010, I lived in Orlando and started to meet more Colombians. Fast forward 3 years to when I moved to Miami and that’s when I really started to see a Colombian presence. Colombian people. Colombian festivals. Colombian restaurants. I’d never seen a Colombian restaurant before.

If I had to describe it, I’d say it was a passive excitement. I was so excited to see other Colombians. I was excited to go to a Colombian restaurant and have authentic Colombian food for the first time. But yet, I still didn’t have a true desire to learn more about the Colombian culture. I didn’t have a deep desire to go back to Colombia. I was simply excited to visually see a Colombian presence in the place I lived.

This is all a long-winded setup for what happened on October 28, 2019 because I want you to understand what my mindset was leading up to that day. It’s important to remind you that everyone’s adoption journey is different. Speaking candidly, I’ve never done this much reflection on my adoption journey, so it’s new for me. As I type this entry, I stop and wonder, “Am I sharing too much?” “Do they really care about what happened in college?” “Is this even making sense?” I guess you’ll tell me if it does or doesn’t, but if you’ve made it this far, thank you. Ok, back to the story.

After living in Miami for 3.5 years, I move around a bit and start to get the desire to travel abroad. I’ve had the great fortune of traveling all over the United States both for pleasure as well as for work but I’m getting to the point where I’m running out of places to visit.

So, after a brief stint in Michigan and Illinois, I move back to Florida in 2019 and I made it a goal to get my passport by the end of 2019. A simple thing to get done right? Not exactly.

Long story short, because I was adopted from Colombia, I needed to have my naturalization papers to get a passport. However, I didn’t have it. My mom claimed I did but I knew I didn’t. I believed she had it but simply misplaced it. So, in October 2019, when I had planned to come home to Michigan to see my family, I asked my parents to pull out any and all of my adoption papers. What did my mom find as she pulled out all my adoption papers? My naturalization papers! She texted me before I flew home and told me she had found it. I was ecstatic! A huge hurdle would be lifted for me to get my passport. Little did I know that when I got home and reviewed my adoption papers, I’d find out so much about my life. Which leads me to the next blog entry - October 28, 2019.