Becoming Patrick: A Memoir

It was a combination of the excellent writing and gut wrenching honesty that impressed me most. I will admit to being triggered approximately five times to the point that I started to cry and had to put the book down.  This is not a bad thing and it should not cast a negative reflection on the author or his story. Quite the contrary, it should show the rawness of the story and the incredible writing skills of the author. He got it. He gets it and he does so not only due to his adopted status but his ability to convey that in compelling, gripping words that enable the general public to get it as well.

The book I am referring to is titled Becoming Patrick: A Memoir and was written by adult adoptee, author, artist Patrick McMahon. I have met Patrick twice over the years. Our contact has been minimal and frankly I am not certain he would even remember meeting me.  In both cases, our contact was limited to an introduction, a smile, or standing around in the same conference space.  This lack of conversation is likely rooted in my introverted, socially anxious personality that abhors crowds and the requirement for idle chit chat. I much prefer intimate gatherings with intellectual discussion. I have also followed Patrick online due to his adoption themed greeting cards and his activism. We are “friends” on Facebook.

Patrick announced the availability of his book a few weeks back. Upon learning of it, I immediately downloaded it to my iPad Kindle app.  I read it from the first page to the last in a matter of a few hours.  Below are my thoughts, in no particular order. I wish I could formulate a professional review of sorts.  Quite frankly, when it comes to adoption themed books, I am usually at a loss for words.  The stories tend to hit me so deeply I am sent into an emotional tizzy that takes me some time to come out of. Until I come out of the emotional death spiral, I am unable to articulate clearly. As such, I ask that you (and Patrick) accept the limited commentary below. I may update it in the future.

Spoiler Alert: Finally if you intend to read the book, you may want to avoid my commentary below.

The Writing – The writing overall was stellar. The story wove together very well and it was easy to feel like you knew Patrick personally and were there with him. I particularly enjoyed his descriptive inclusions of his life, his daily happenings, friends and “sub plots” going on in his life (like job loss, financial challenges, love life and more). The inclusion of these items made him far more human to me and the overall story much more emotionally impacting. I really enjoyed simple things like his description of his long hair, getting his ear pierced. It was at this point in the book I scampered over to Facebook to check out if he still had long hair and piercing.  I squealed with delight when I saw an older picture of him with this long haired look. He wears it well (although I must admit to a personal affinity for men with long hair).

Honesty – Patrick was very honest in sharing his feelings.  I felt he provided a realistic view of his compassion for his first mother and family of origin and his conflict with them. He clearly took issues with some parts of the story (like his first mothers surrender of not one but three children to adoption). I really appreciated this fact as in other adoption memoirs I have read (Ithaka for example) I was left feeling as if the author was not being sincere. Something was either being sugar coated or completely avoided.  Patrick did neither. He did not paint a good or bad picture of his first family or even his adoptive family. He painted a very real picture complete with alcoholism in both families, job loss, and abuse.

Letters – The sharing of the text of the letters sent between him and his mother Barb was much appreciated. Again, this aspect provided a very human, real touch to it.  Surely he could have alluded to them but instead he included them word for word. As a result, I got a good feel for Patrick, Barb and the joys and challenges associated with their reunion.

Photos – I found myself wanting to see photos of his families once I got about a third of the way into the story. I am so glad he included these at the end! (I must admit I crept his Facebook to see if any were there!). Again, the ability to put real human faces with the characters I read about further humanized them all for me. I believe this is so critical in adoption (one reason I use my real face and name in adoption circles). Adoption does a nasty job of dehumanizing the family of origin and the adoptees.  Photos help make us real.

Chicago – I had no idea till I read the book that Patrick was born and surrendered in Chicago. This is likely one of the major reasons for my triggering. I knew so many of the places he referenced. I walked, even lived on, streets he talks about in the book (Ravensood). My roommate worked at Illinois Masonic. I saw a therapist there less than three months post surrender. The constant references to Chicago, Illinois, Illinois adoption organizations and search resources sent me spiraling backward into the dark abyss of my own painful past. It never ceases to amazes me that I can be sent back there so easily. No matter how far I think I have come, how good I feel I am doing dealing with adoption trauma, a certain word or memory can erase all the progress and take me right back to May 19, 1986 when I handed my daughter over to strangers with the blessing and admiration of society.

Ambivalence – I found myself feeling rather ambivalent about his first mother. Like Patrick I found myself rather disturbed by the information that she surrendered three children to adoption.  I do not want to sound judgmental. I know it is not uncommon for mothers to become pregnant soon after relinquishment; I could not wrap my brain around three surrenders. What must that do to a mother’s soul? I know what one did to mine. Three? I am confident I would have killed myself. That being said, part of me liked his first mother. She appeared very open, self aware and considerate, particularly as someone who was completely surprised at being found and totally unprepared to deal with reunion. Her first comments were harsh but she seemed to realize and restate that later on.  She did not seem to be too pushy (as many mothers often are in reunion) and seemed to genuinely try to be considerate of Patrick, his feelings and his adoptive family. If Patrick was trying to illustrate his own conflict with her, I must tell him he succeeded. I liked Barb but felt unsettled by some parts of her.

Gay and adopted – As I have written about here, I learned, via the internet that my daughter identifies as queer. Having Patrick write about his own experience of coming out, living as both a gay man and adopted person, struck me very deeply. This was another point when I put the book down.  To read about Patrick’s fear of being rejected by his first family for being gay brought tears to me eyes.  I was so glad to see it was a non issue for his first mother (as it is for me).  His anxiety and fear of rejection was palpable to me.  I sat and thought at length about my own daughter and wondered how she came out to her adoptive parents, wondered if she is aware that I am aware of her sexual orientation, wondered what kinds of conversations, if any, we might have about it in the future. I greatly appreciated Patrick sharing this very personal but oh so important aspect of himself and his reunion.  Kudos to Barb for her acceptance. (Random data point: I have reunited several alternative lifestyle adoptees with mothers.  None of them faced rejected upon sharing that news.)

I encourage all to read Patrick’s memoir.  You can get it on Amazon and other locations. While I read the ebook, I intend to buy the hard copy to add to my collection. I also intend to TALK to Patrick the next time we occupy the same conference space.

This should not be construed as an endorsement for any of the tools or options I use rather it is intended to be a bit of an education for individuals who may post here or in the case of my friend, on other adoption blogs. I am by no means a security expert and ask that before making a decision on your own blog or site you do your own research and consult with a subject matter expert.

Leaving Your Real Name versus Anon. Are you really Anon?

That depends on a few things. Many blogs (my own included) require you to leave a name and an email address. The email address is not published or seen by anyone but me. (See my privacy policy for specific details). My blog software captures your email address and keeps it hidden inside my blog dashboard. Obviously, if you leave your real email but use Anon I will know it is you.  Even if I don’t know you personally, I could paste the email address you left into Google and see where else that email was used. This could help me trace you.

If you are being sneaky or have some legit reason to post as Anon you probably don’t want to put your real email if it is required.  You may also want to check to insure you are not logged into your blogger/Google accounts, and that your gravatar is not following you around.

Be warned leaving your name as Anon and a bogus email doing that will NOT stop the blog owner from being able to identify you.  Here is where IP addresses and stat counters come into play.

Stat Counters and Trackers

I have two different tracking pages installed on my blog. One is StatCounter and the other is JetPack.

StatCounter is a free web tracker that provides a configurable hit counter and real- time detailed web stats. By installing it on my blog (see the little blue box on the bottom left) I am able to track and review popular pages, entry pages, exit pages, came from, keyword analysis, recent keyword activity, search engine wars, visitor paths, visit length, returning visits, recent page load activity, recent visitor activity, country/state/city stats, recent visitor Google map, ISP stats, browser stats, and even operating system stats.  To be a little less technical, this means I can generally tell where you came from (city, state, country), how you got here (via Google search, using what keywords, what site referred you, etc), how long you stayed, what pages you looked at, what kind of computer and browser you use, how many times you have been here and your IP address.

StatCounter provides a lot of information and is pretty easy to use.  I have had it installed on nearly all blogs for many years. In my early days of blogging I used to check my stats like crazy. Back then, when the internet was new (LOL), I was interested in creating a following, obsessed with who found me and how, and worked to get my hits/views/etc. up. Today? Not so much. I don’t really blog anymore for a following, not sure if I ever did. Back then I was uber paranoid about WHO was reading me, why, and if they were people I knew. (I had some issues caused by my daughter’s father and his wife reading here, my daughters adoptive parents, etc.). Today?  I rarely think about who is reading or even why.  I don’t check StatCounter as much but I do continue to find it highly useful. Checking StatCounter requires me to log into that site and mull through reams of information.  I love the tool but reviewing it can be time consuming.

WordPress (the blog platform I am on) offers the plug-in called JetPack. JetPack is really easy to install to self-hosted WordPress sites. Once it is installed it’ll begin collecting information about your page views, which posts and pages are the most popular, where your traffic is coming from, and what people click on when they leave. The stats are easily viewed from within your WordPress dashboard. Since I am more often inside my blog dashboard, I tend to refer to JetPack stats more frequently. They give me a quick snapshot of what is happening on my blog. If something catches my eye (like a huge spike in readership) I will click over to StatCounter for more information. Visit this page on StatCounter for a description of their features.

Now back to that IP address

Every device connected to the Internet is assigned a unique number known as an Internet Protocol (IP) address. Since these numbers are usually assigned to internet service providers within region-based blocks, an IP address can be used to identify the region or country from which a computer is connecting to the Internet. An IP address can sometimes be used to show the user’s general location.  I say usually and sometimes because there are networks that make this a bit more challenging but again, geeky stuff for another time. Let me put it this way; it is sort of like your house # and address. It is where you live on the internet.  They look like this:

10.255.255.255

Every where you go, with every internet device you use, stat packages (like StatCounter referenced above) are grabbing that IP address and logging it (along with lots of other information about you as noted above).  Via the use of this IP address, I (and others) can track who came to our blog and when. StatCounter, like many other packages, even allows me to label known addresses.  So when my husband visits my blog from his work computer (which shows as the IP, the town, state, and his company URL) I  label that as Hubby – Work.  A quick review of my stats will tell me when a particular visit is my husband. I have also done this for blog readers resident in OH, CA, FL, IL and Europe. If I know where you live, I tend to label your IP.

If a troll from Europe were to post on my blog as Anon and leave a bogus email, I could scroll through my stats to see if their IP registered and if so, if it had ever registered before under a different name. This way I could match up a troll with a person I might actually know. (What a bummer that would be).  IP addresses can also be blocked.  Therefore, if I was getting harassed by someone (and I have been) I could enter a specific address in my blog software and block them from posting.  Because their IP address has been marked as spam or held for comment moderation. (I should note that the very first time a person posts here, their comment is held until I approve it. After you have been approved, it stays that way until I block you, if ever, in the future). IP addresses can also be shared – well, via email anyway. I and other blog readers have compared IP’s appearing on our blogs. Through this comparing, another mother and I were able to confirm her now adult child was reading my blog.

With all this in mind (and more) I told my Luddite friend that no, you aren’t ever really anonymous. (I realize I sound rather vague but there is this thing called IP masking that allows you to hide the IP address of your computer. There are also services that you can go to that will allow you to surf anonymously through them. Recall that person that visited me from hidemyass.com?

Now before you go assuming I am some sort of hacker or IP asshider myself, let me tell you my personal policy. 

If I don’t want someone to know I was on a site, I don’t go there.  Seriously, it is that easy. My belief is that if I need to hide myself or what I am doing or saying, I am probably thinking of saying or doing something nefarious. Why else would I want to hide my identity? I own my words and my beliefs. I stand behind them. I am not going to hide. I realize there are individuals who feel different, mothers who are still in the adoption closet, adoptees who want to talk about reunions without adoptive parents or first parents knowing. To those individuals, I would offer the cautionary statement that even your “story” or tone of voice can be identified by those of us who have been around adoption blogs.  Even the words you use can give you away.  Just something to think about.

Probably more important, haven’t all of us negatively impacted by adoption had our identity hidden long enough?  I just don’t work that way – at least not anymore. I never asked for anonymity in 1986. I certainly don’t want it now.

My daughter is apparently still being followed by someone on formspring that knows she is adopted.

(And before you people in France and beyond go hollering at me for reading her formspring, keep in mind, her rules were that I could read her online life but not comment, or make my presence known in any way. I mean nothing to her but that nothingness of me bothers her when she is reminded of the nothing by my commenting or liking a blog post, retweeting a good tweet, etc.).

I felt a mixture of pleasure and sadness to see her come “out” to one of the questions that pointedly asked her about her “adoptedness” (is that a word?). The fact that she outed herself as adopted I interpret (perhaps erroneously) as a positive step of acceptance or some type of maturity and growth? I am also glad that she publicly answered the troll.

She responded in part by stating she is “lucky and privileged in this” (assuming “this” is being adopted) and it involves many parties with experiences ranging from “wildly traumatizing” to “very positive”. I am gonna guess that I am the “wildly traumatized” side and her adoptive parents on the “very positive” side.

It was interesting to read and I went back several times. Of course I can read into it — or not. I can debate the words “lucky and privileged” to be adopted. I can comment on dominant discourse in adoption (and youse all know part of me is dying to do so).

But I will refrain (well, except for what I just said above).

I actually feel rather pleased and comforted to have read it. I pondered, for a second or two, writing her and congratulating her for responding to the asshat and for speaking her truth, regardless of what I may feel about it. I didn’t of course. Maybe that is what this post is – a way for me to write her yet not.

I am going to turn comments off on this post as I don’t want a public discussion of her statements and her position. Yes, yes, I realize I just did that myself but that is kind of the point. I stand behind, defend, am responsible to her for my words and my words alone. I realize blogs are partially intended to encourage dialogue and turning off comments works against such conversation. Just go with me on this, mk? If you have something to share, you are welcome to write me privately at bluestokking at gmail dot com.

I do welcome it, even it appearances may suggest otherwise.