n this episode, Danielle, Jenny, and Rebecca explore the tangled relationship between white evangelicalism, missionary culture, adoption, and whiteness. Beginning with Jenny’s research on Uganda, purity culture, and the savior narratives surrounding white women missionaries, the conversation moves into the harms of transracial and international adoption, especially when children are severed from family, culture, land, and language under the banner of God’s calling. Rebecca brings a deeply personal and structural lens to adoption, naming how adoptive parents are often cast as heroes while the child’s story is flattened or rewritten. Danielle connects these patterns to white evangelical politics, immigration enforcement, and the theological contradictions that allow some children to be “saved” while others are abandoned, detained, or deported. Together, they examine how whiteness requires disconnection, how capitalism and scarcity reinforce racial allegiance, and how Christian theology has often been used to sanctify violence rather than confront it. The episode asks what it means to move beyond saviorism toward responsibility, coalition, and truth-telling about the systems that create harm in the first place.
Rebecca
In this country, what we do with adoption is this notion automatically that adoption is a good thing, and whoever is in the role of adoptive parent is the hero of the story. That usually means the story of the adopted child, and however they came to be in a position where adoption was an option, is villainized in a way that is often inaccurate and radically oversimplified. It’s told as if the adopted child’s story begins at the moment of adoption, as if there was not something that happened before or during.
It sets up this dynamic where there are clear heroes, clear villains, and a kid in the middle who has everyone writing their story except the kid to whom the story belongs. The frame is problematic to me. The fact that we don’t know how to address it is problematic to me. What is true for that kid at the time of adoption? What is true for that kid ten years later? What is true for that kid thirty years later? There’s no conversation about that at all. There’s no vocabulary around what that means to identity and culture.
Jenny
I reread a book called Kisses from Katie, which was very popular. Katie Davis was a white woman from the States who went to Uganda and adopted fourteen Ugandan daughters by the time she was twenty-three. In one of the last chapters, a child’s biological mother comes and takes the child back to the village in Uganda, and Katie Davis writes as if it is absolutely unjust that a child would be taken from its mother.
There is seemingly complete obliviousness to the children she has who were birthed by someone else, who have stories there. It’s like there is no history or narrative because God has called her to be mommy. That call is unquestioned and unproblematic, and it is really heavy.
Danielle
What comes up for me is the Supreme Court ruling and Amy Coney Barrett having adopted Haitian children and then voting to end TPS status for Haitians. That is where our books overlap. That is literally psychotic to me. How are her kids going to make sense of that at some point in their life? Right now, they have to survive and do whatever they need to do, but the reality shift required to live inside that world is so great.
Theme 2: Transracial Adoption, Cultural Severing, and Identity Loss
Rebecca
When you’re talking about transracial adoption, I think it’s twofold. There is the issue of being a member of a marginalized community adopted into a majority family and having to navigate the explicit or implicit, conscious or subconscious racism that exists in that dynamic. To have to navigate that from inside the four walls of your own home is a thing unto itself.
But the other piece, which I think may be equally harmful in a different way, is the absence of the collective identity space that shapes who you are. Whole parts of your identity go unacknowledged, undeveloped, misignored, because you have been removed from the womb of your cultural and ethnic identity. I don’t think there is enough language to talk about how significant that connection is—not just to your family of origin, but to land, extended family, and the whole collective group.
Oftentimes for the adoptive kid, I don’t have vocabulary to describe what it is that I don’t know, except I have this haunting whisper that there is something I’m missing, and I can’t even identify it because I don’t have enough access to the cultural knowledge to tell you what I’m missing.
Jenny
It makes me think about Indigenous residential schools and the phrase, “kill the Indian, save the child.” What makes adoption acceptable is that it is actually adopting these kids into whiteness. It is not bringing them with their Haitian culture and language and pride in the same way TPS holders have.
A month ago, Sean and I stood with the TPS community in front of the Supreme Court when they heard this case, and it was an entire day of songs and stories and such beauty in the various cultures represented by TPS countries. That is what is being killed. That is what is not allowed. You can come if you adopt whiteness.
Danielle
I think we have sanitized the abuse and harm in European-dominant families here in the States, in evangelical white churches, schools, and other places. We are told that the white families adopting these children are not perpetrating harm. But I’m looking back at it today and thinking, no, they are perpetrating a lot of harm. So you have a child coming out of one set of harm and having to navigate another set of harm. It’s a double whammy.