I'm Hannah

Without the racial literacy necessary to navigate racism, the endless song playing in my mind was "I don't belong".

 

Born in Kansas City, Missouri, to a white birth mother and Black birth father, I was adopted privately and domestically adopted. The Jacksons eagerly brought home their last baby and their only baby girl and raised me in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. I enjoyed romping around our suburban neighborhood with my older brothers. And despite the simple joys of childhood, it seemed my joys were often being interrupted by the bias and discrimination of others.

 

In a town comprised of not even one percent of people who shared my brown skin and curly hair, I didn't know how to navigate these painful experiences. Deeply lonely and insecure, I longingly searched for if and where I belonged.

 

My journey seeking what was missing continued on for years. In those years, I found solace in the croon of Ella Fitzgerald, the flowing poetry of Q-Tip, the prose of Audre Lorde. I found beautiful friendships within my community. I found love with a beautiful Black man and in our two little brown babies.

 

Ultimately, with all of the help of those previously listed, and many more, I found myself. I was what I was missing. Today I work tirelessly support transracial foster youth and adoptees as they find all the magic that they are, too.