Melting Pot of Cultures: How My American Parents Shaped an Indian Adoptee’s Life

Thanks to advances in DNA testing and a dash of Hollywood theatrics (I’m looking at you, “Lion”), there has been an increased discussion and focus among Indian adoptees wanting to find their biological parents and other family members.

However, I have never been or will ever be one of those adoptees. While I completely understand and support the desire to know and possibly reconnect with biological relatives, in my mind my adoptive family is my one and only family.

Truth be told, the only time in my life I’ve wondered about my biological parents was in elementary school when I still had dreams of being a professional basketball player. I just wanted to know how tall my parents were — in hopes that maybe I’d grow a few inches taller. Alas, that was not meant to be.

A large reason for my lack of interest in searching for my biological family is because my adoptive parents did one thing very well: they did their best to keep me and my siblings aware of and connected to my heritage.

While I whined and groaned about attending all those events for Indian adoptees when I was younger, they did help me find my sense of belonging and connect with other adoptees who might have felt the same as me about being adopted and wanting to find my biological family.

There were also numerous Indian community events and celebrations which we attended in Salem, in Corvallis, and in the much larger city of Portland, where my siblings and I wore our Indian clothes and were surrounded by so many others who looked like us. Our home was decorated with art and books from India, and we grew up with an awareness of the unique culture of our birth country

Looking back on that, it’s awesome that my parents went through all that effort. They are both Oregon natives and came from more rural backgrounds. To say they were experts on India before they adopted me and my siblings would be a huge understatement. But guess what? My mom even learned how to make some Indian dishes. It was very Americanized, but the effort was there and I know we kids enjoyed the food regardless.

I also am fortunate to have traveled back to India twice since being adopted. My adoptive parents took me to Kolkata when I was in 4th grade. That trip showed me how lucky I was to be adopted. Visiting the nursing home where I was born, I got to meet with the doctor who likely saved my life — and learned about the probable circumstances surrounding my birth.

I absolutely view my adoption as a blessing. I don’t feel like I was ripped away from my “real” family — or had my heritage and culture snatched away. 

As a result, and as someone with multiple disabilities, I can say with certainty that I wouldn’t have fared well had I not been adopted. I definitely wouldn’t have had access to services that enabled me to hear and walk better. To go to school and thrive well enough to go to college. To develop the skills I needed to be the successful writer I am today.

A trip to Trivandrum in 2009 to stay with Indian friends there helped me connect with my Indian heritage even more. It was a spiritual trip that helped me see the beauty in my roots and feel prouder of who I am, despite being very Westernized. It’s perfectly fine to be a melting pot of American and Indian heritage and ideals.

Having this perspective might put me at odds with many adoptees today. But I absolutely view my adoption as a blessing. I don’t feel like I was ripped away from my “real” family — or had my heritage and culture snatched away. I was given a second chance at life and able to create my “American Dream” while being able to appreciate my roots.

I’ll never forget the time I met up with a fellow adoptee and she was almost angry and resentful she had been adopted. At the time, it blew my mind. I remember thinking, “Man, she seems ungrateful. Does she not realize how lucky she is to be adopted? ”But a decade later and hopefully more mature, I realize that adoption and its long-lasting effects is complex. We adoptees each have our own unique views and thoughts about it. While I may not want to search for my biological family, I support those who do. While I am content with how life played out for me since being adopted, I recognize that others struggled and continue to do so.

With that in mind, it’s my sincere hope that the Indian adoptee community continues to tackle topics and issues around our complicated backgrounds and come together to share our experiences and embrace our unique journeys to becoming who we are today.

And for myself personally, I shouldn’t ever take my adoptive parents for granted. Life hasn’t been perfect since I was adopted. But I wouldn’t change how it has played out for anything. Considering where I was when I was born, through the present, I have survived all odds. Without my parents adopting me, I am 100 percent certain I wouldn’t have made it.

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Raju Woodward was born in Calcutta, India and adopted at nine weeks old. He grew up in Salem, Oregon with his six siblings who also are adopted from India. Raju earned a B.S. in history from Oregon State University. He is now a marketing content manager and copywriter for a tech company based in Eugene.