a rant. and today, i think, it is about time. samira, once again you have inspired my fingers to their angry typing. what would i do without you?
in a particular class of mine, we are discussing the implications of islam and its doctrines on modern issues. or, at least, we pretend to. mostly we talk about fantasy marshmallow worlds where everything is perfect and everyone lives in peace and harmony in an islamic state. but for the sake of argument (and my course credit) we're going to pretend that the class is generally informative.
well, today was informative at least.
we have been discussing the islamic point of view with regards to human life and reproduction- birth control, abortion, genetic engineering, euthanasia, artificial insemination, etc. and our professor explained that in islam, it is absolutely imperative that a child be produced by a married couple, with no "3rd parties" involved. Thus, in vitro fertilization is acceptable as long as all components of the baby are from the husband and wife. surrogate mothers are not permitted, and neither are sperm banks. so. me being me, the natural question is what about adoption?
can of worms, my friends. can of worms.
i mean i guess she wasn't quite as offensive as she could have been. she is entitled to her opinion, and her culture is entitled to their opinion, and her religion is entitled to its opinion. that's as diplomatic as i can be. she explained that adoption was seen in islam as a great deed of charity, "to take in an orphan" is seen as a great sacrifice and makes you a great person and katha katha katha. but, of course, those "adopted" children cannot take their (adopted) father's name, and do not receive inheritance. also, women must veil in front of their adopted children and/or siblings, because since they are not actually blood relations, they are probably going to have an illicit sexual affair if you dont keep that hair under wraps.
and again, fine, have your opinion, samira. you and everyone who thinks like you can keep your obsession with blood and lineage. but dont talk to me about how everyone wants to have a real son or daughter (but probably not daughter), dont talk to me about how "real children" can be trusted to take care of their parents in their old age, unlike adopted children, dont talk to me about the "complicated issues" that arise because parents couldn't possibly bond with a child that wasn't theirs, and don't you dare say the word "illegitimate" to me ever, ever again. my cultural assimilation switches are strong, but they're not that strong.
i dont think anyone has ever used the term "illegitimate child" to my face before. well, check it off the list, it officially infuriates me.
and i dont usually play the walking-identity-crisis, sensitive adopted girl. i really don't. i consider myself well-adusted (ha), i'm happy to have met my birthparents several times, and my parents have always been really good about it. they told me early, i have no recollection of ever not knowing where i came from. i mean, i had baby books about adoption. this is not a complicated thing.
class, is a family people who look the same?
(the class shakes their collective kindergarten head): nooooo
is a family people who have the same blood, and hair, and noses, and stuff?
(another head shake): nooo
oh. than maybe a family is people who love each other and live with each other and annoy the hell out of each other?
(the class cheers wildly).
thank you, class. like i said, not complicated. and usually i dont get so offended by things like this; i mean people have been asking about my "real parents" and "the orphanage" since i've been talking. but maybe it was the awful, awful word choice, or maybe it was the fact that it was coming from a professor, or maybe the fact that she at least made it seem like an entire culture that would disapprove of my existence, but today was a day of sitting quietly in my chair, hands folded, burning holes in my professor's head with my brain.
i swear im going to send samira my baby books. or i would, if i didnt think it would be such a waste of time.
"but how can a father truly love his adopted son the same? of, course, it is impossible. strangers in the house only complicate things."
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