Injustice: A Question of Relevance and Authenticity

“Expecting the world to treat you fairly because you are a good person is a little like expecting the bull not to attack you because you are a vegetarian.”

—Dennis Wholey

Injustice is a strong accusation to place upon an individual, organization, or institution, as it involves the certain consciousness that a wrong or a violation of another’s rights has been established or practiced. It is rather hard to determine an injustice, as it is tough as well to discern the reasoning behind it. For most of my youthful life, the nature of injustice was shadowed by the function of my family and the privilege of my environment. However, we cannot escape the fact that injustices are prevalent and sometimes ignored, since it is almost societal norm to be bound by laws or rules in which we have no voice or representation.

My incident of injustice was experienced in my youth, specifically in the sixth grade when I was eleven years old. I attended a Ukrainian Catholic grade school and it was during Ukrainian Language and Culture class that I was chanced with my first memory of delegated racism. It was a standard day when all the girls had been tasked with the assignment of bringing in a Barbie doll for dress up in traditional Ukrainian outfits.
I had innocently brought ”Addy,” my black skinned doll from the American Girl Doll Collection, to the event. Addy represented African slaves who had traveled the Underground Railroad to freedom, and her packaging had involved elementary stories that complemented the doll and the very essence of having her. I also owned these stories, a series of books about Addy’s life that contextualized a fictional family of actors within historically accurate narratives. Indeed, my anticipation in my youthful mind before the incident was genuine and enthusiastic about the endeavor, until not too long after we had settled in class, when the teacher had expressed the inadequacy of Addy for the project.

I protested, and my teacher was quick with resolve in explaining to me that Addy wasn’t Ukrainian, hence, not able to wear Ukrainian outfits. My innocence was dared and my understanding of the project was marred by a sudden confusion as to why my doll was not sufficient for the endeavor. I surveyed the classroom and almost instantly recognized that my mates had brought Barbie dolls, which were blonde or nearer the phenotype of a Caucasian. I looked unto my doll and childishly burst into tears, suddenly realizing that indeed, Addy was quite distinct because of the shading on her inanimate skin.

Briefly, the entire classroom had fallen into silence, and it was obvious to me that there was tension building between I the child and my adult representative teacher. I observed that not all classmates were of the same ethnic origin, and I also observed that I commonly shared more physical attributes with the blonde Barbie than with Addy; who was, however, my doll and my friend. I also recognized an underlying truth, that even though I looked more like the blonde Barbie dolls, I still was not Ukrainian myself. I then wondered henceforth, “If all of these observations were true, was I then subject to making Ukrainian dresses as well?”
I contacted my mother via the principal’s office to tell her I could not participate in the long anticipated project, especially because my favorite doll had flunked her chance to attain celebrity status amongst my peers. Of course, she arrived to my school with blown outrage, to speak with the principal. The next day, I was ushered to school, but with a Swedish American girl doll, which to my youthful understanding, still was not Ukrainian.

Consequently, after all else, I felt alienated from the social consistency of my friends, the protective curiosity of the teachers, and the affirming confines of the institution. I felt that I was “foolish” enough not to recognize Addy’s “mark of difference”. And so my injustice was done, except for that my understanding of the extent to which it was an injustice had been saved, awaiting the developed logic and morality of a better educated and exposed me.

I would have changed my response to this incident; if it were that I had been a reasoning adult, in the sense of my logic and the probable argument I could have presented. As an adult, I would have immediately questioned the affect to my innocence in the first instance, and I would have requested a more salient explanation as to the relevance of skin color to the donning of Ukrainian outfits and they who wear it in the institution or about the world. I would have argued that it was impossible for such a stipulation to thrive if it were not the policy of the institution to maintain ethnocentricity; especially after recognizing that the student population was ethnically diverse in the first place, and also that the institution was pertaining to or accredited by Catholic sponsorship and management. I could have argued that an institution that was ethnocentric in its capacity had no business admitting non-relevant ethnicities into their institution, only to marginalize and omit them from participation in routine assignments.

And finally, I could have questioned the status of the Catholic Church in its knowingness that individuals under its umbrella practiced such abrasive innocence breaking policies that rid the young of their oneness in heart and society. For in the moment I realized my dolls exclusion, if I had not been of a strong character, I could have been convinced of her irrelevance to white ethnic culture and accomplishment. However, in the discipline of anthropology, it is well established as of current that there is no ethnically or racially homogenous group of humanity on the surface of the Earth, nor do national boundaries literally correlate with or dictate the genetic diversity within. Thus it is more than possible and almost certain that communities of African descent live and have historical roots in Ukraine as well as other Eastern European countries.

Conclusively, I believe that injustice is present in most of life’s circumstances, but that, injustice absolutely cannot be tolerated when it corrupts those who have not already picked a side. Moreover, private educational institutions, whether religious or ethnically specific, ought not to have the right to discriminate on the basis of race, regardless of their intention to remain “timeless” or “pure”; for we know that a phenotypic attribute as superficial as skin color does not possess a cultural stamp of authenticity for time immemorial.

They Ain't No Bradgelina

The Friday following our "safe" Thanksgiving dinner, ABC News shocked America by exposing the horrors of adoptions-gone-wrong on its program: "From Russia with Love--Dealing with Difficult Adoptions." The 20/20 highlight followed the lives of two parents, Tonya and Mike Mulligan, who now currently have adopted three children from Russia, two of which, as they soon discovered, have some serious psychological, mental, and emotional disabilities. At first confused about the aim of the program, I soon discovered this story unwrapped the worst of American consumer ideology and excess within the context of a seemingly unrelated topic, adoption.

The program enters with "shocking" news about Russian orphanages, stories of mistreatment and abuse, backdropped by the types of socio-economic situations from which children are relinquished. Apparently, when the children are adopted out of Russia, Russian orphanages do not disclose whether or not the children suffer from any disabilities. Rather, Russia claims that the parents-to-be are asked to sign a form that states there may be "risks" involved by adopting children from their orphanages and that the state is not responsible for administering this information. Unattended to in the interview are the parents' reactions to their adoptive children, which are what was particularly shocking to me.

The parents of the Russian adoptees were stern in their conclusions about their adoptions. They frequently noted their anger toward the adoption agencies, citing that "they did not sign up for" the problems that they are now encountering with their oldest teen, a young girl adopted during adolescence who did not know much English when she moved into her new parents Beverly Hills/Los Angeles/priviledged Californian estate. They followed their teen around the house with a video camera as she threw frequent tantrums, capturing every moment of her outrage for 20/20. Not only was this an immediate red flag to me (why would you want this type of footage in your family archive?), but also a sad indication of what these parents truly value. Instead of trying to comfort this child, they are filming her like she is a curious demon or exotic mystery in order to broadcast her bad behavior into every American television as if to say, "Look! See the bad apples we got!"

Not only did the parents exploit their young teen, but the father marveled at how the oldest daughter was not satisfied with the lush bedroom set and excessive toys that he bought for her. "It defies logic," he said in response to the reporters statement about the girls environment. When the reporter asked the girl about her relationship with her parents, the girl responded (and I am paraphrasing here), "The only thing they ever do with me is buy me things." She further stated that her younger adopted sister is spoiled because she asks for things and gets whatever she wants. The reporter smartly retorts, "Do you think your sister is too American, is that why you don't like her?"

At this point in the interview, it was clear what was going on. This was not a Russia v. America scenario. This was a cultural conundrum where the parents were so indulgent in their own lifestyles that they could not see beyond the things that they own. The oldest daughter very clearly understands that things cannot buy ones love, nor can they make one happy, an extremely simple concept that many Americans do not accept in their daily lives. While I do not reject the fact that these children do suffer trauma and must receive care, I do think that parents who talk about their children as if they are commodities to be bought, sold, or RETURNED, are out of their love-of-shopping minds. Indeed, the Mulligans spoke about wanting to return their children to Russia, and are currently suing the Russian orphanage for misleading their decision to adopt "faulty" children, as if the children are damaged products or a degenerative investment.

The Mulligans might contest my observations by claiming that they have since kept the children and sent them to a boarding school for rehabilitation. The boarding school, although absolutely necessary due to its specialized nature of caring for troubled adoptees, costs a pretty penny for its services. As the Mulligans pointed out, it cost them "hundreds of thousands of dollars" to negotiate and finalize the adoption of their three children and now they are spending more than ever trying to "fix" them.

My questions to Mulligans are: Did you realize that after adopting two children from Russia, one with extreme behavioral and emotional problems, that it was probably a bad idea to return there to adopt a third child? Might I be so bold as to ask why exactly you needed to choose Russia in the first place? Is it because you did not want to choose South America, Africa, or Asia (hell what about Detroit?), places that would produce children that-dare I say-are darkies and don't look like you? Are you mad at these children, because you thought that everything would be perfect in your perfect house and perfect town once children who perfectly blended into your family arrived?

I'm not going to press the "race issue" in this piece, but I do absolutely believe that the Mulligans have made repeated mistakes influenced by their serious misconceptions about family and parenting. Because they think they should able to buy their way out of anything, whether it is infertility or adopted children, they have thus indicated to me that capitalism is a menace that needs to be checked.

R.I.P. to the man who was trampled on "Black Friday" at a Walmart.

We Hope For Better Things

We Hope For Better Things

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