My Search for Truth or How I Spent My Summer Vacation
By: Katie Scarlett formerly known as Baby Girl Phillips
On June 16, 1990, I attended the Willingham Family Reunion in Arkansas. As I was looking about, I noticed how the family all resembled one another. Jimmy made the comment that I did not look like my family. I had attended the reunion for two reasons. First, I went for my dad's sake. Secondly, I was extremely interested in tracing my roots. I had found out about an paternal ancestor who was a Native American chief. He was an ally, as well as, a foe of Andrew Jackson in the 1820's. I went about asking questions of all the older people at the reunion. I looked at pictures and found some of Earl, my adoptive father, when he was a little boy. I studied his face intently trying to find some resemblance to me or my children. I had always wondered why I was so different from everyone in my family.
At the end of the day, an older cousin, E. J. and his wife came up to us. E. J.'s wife said, "Oh, I remember you, when you were just a little bitty thing right after Earl and Ruth got you!" When they walked away, I said to Jimmy, "Did you notice anything strange in that conversation?" Jimmy said, "Yeah, got you from where? Under a rock or what?" That evening, I poured through pictures with a diligence. I was looking for anything that might give me the truth without my asking Mom. I was fearful of asking her. I have had too many negative confrontations with her in my life and wanted to avoid a scene. I spent 5 hours looking at a chicken crate full of pictures of my growing up years. One of the first ones I looked at was of Mom holding me when I was one week old. She was in a form fitting dress and was shapely. I really knew at that point that I was adopted, but, I needed it confirmed. I looked at old newspaper clippings also and found one about the fire that killed the doctor that delivered me. There was a picture of a baby that was abandoned on the roadside around McAlester, Ok. I stared at that baby intently wondering if that was me.
June 17, 1990
The next morning was Father's Day. I couldn't stand not knowing for sure. I told Mom what E. J. said.
I then said, "Mom, am I adopted, too?" She said no too quickly. I said, "Mom, if I am, please tell me. You are my mother and always will be, but I have the right to know."
She still denied it. I said, "I'm sorry to hurt you like this. In this picture of you with me, you look too good. I have had two babies. I know this is not a picture of a woman who recently gave birth."
She began to cry and said that I was in fact adopted at birth. She said as long as I did not know I was adopted then I was hers. She said things would never be the same between us again. I tried to reassure her but it was no use. She said, "Now you'll go and find you have a pretty mother and you won't love me anymore. "
I was hurt, angry, and shocked all at once. I could not agree with her reasoning or understand her thinking. I don't "belong" to anyone anymore. I am a human being and not a possession to be owned. I remembered when I was a teenager and she would say I couldn't do thus and so because I "belonged" to her. I hated that terminology with a passion. I always wanted to be allowed to be my own person. I wanted to be respected as able to have my own independent feelings. I did not like having to always dress and do what they wanted me to.
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