Kathy Manley: The Chosen Baby, Me
Adopting a child often comes with good intentions, but for the child, it can be a complex growing up with feelings that question belonging and self. Photographer Kathy Manley has created a narrative of her search for self, for family, and for untold truths with her project, The Chosen Baby, Me.
Kathy M. Manley is a photographic artist whose work serves as a conduit in the exploration of human behavior and the natural world, in particular, the connections and physical characteristics between these inter-twined forms. Anthropological and Dendrological research serves to inform and inspire her images.
Kathy’s curiosity and interest in families and family dynamics lead her to look her own beginning. Manley was adopted as an infant at a time when societal norms were very different. She always felt like she was different, didn’t quite fit. Using archival materials, family photos, and her memories she has provided a retrospective view to her experience.
Manley received an A.A. in Fine Art Photography from Northern Virginia Community College, a M.Ed in Instructional Technologies and B.S Elementary Education from George Mason University. After a 31-year teaching career, the transition back to photography began by helping teachers inspire young children to use cameras, Helping teachers develop visual literary techniques and children with a new ways to demonstrate their learning, She has maintained a studio portrait practice for the past decade.
Kathy has continued her studies in photography through coursework and classes at her local Universities, National Geographic, Santa Fe Photo Arts, Center for Photographic Arts, and the Los Angeles Center for Photography. Her work has been included in group shows both nationally and internationally. She has been published in several books, and she curated a solo show at Crooked Run Gallery, in Sterling Virginia.
Manley lives and works in Arlington, Virginia.
Instagram: @work2snap
©Kathy Manley, Chosen Baby Book, The book we read weekly at home. It was an attempt in to get kids to “believe” that being chosen was way better than being givien way. The story was strange as it made it seem like babies all came from the store and you could get a boy or a girl.
The Chosen Baby, Me
The Chosen Baby, Me is a response to a story I wrote called “I have my Mother’s Eyebrows”. Both the story and these images are a path I used to explain and understand my feelings about my adoption.
I used archival family photos collected from both biological and adopted family members. Information from local papers, ancestry.com and other documents I collected. I re-crafted and reshot much of the source imagery I used. I learned so much about myself and feelings I had the I was unaware of questions without answers. I hope this work can help others begin their journey into their own adoptions.
I always felt love from my adoptive parents and was a happy child. I lived the “Leave it to Beaver” life. I had friends, played outside for hours and went to the library every week. I had so many opportunities and experiences I would not have had growing up in my birth location.
Growing up, I never really understood anything about my past; culturally or historically. I was told from an early age that I was adopted. Really had no idea what they meant but it sounded like there was an adopted kid store somewhere you could go get a baby. We read The Chosen Baby once a week. The Chosen Baby book was propaganda to dup you into someone really wanted you and not the opposite. I had become different than what I had been the moment I was picked up at the Home for Unwed Mothers. I had cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents. While I loved all these people and they seem to love me. I always felt like an add-on. I never knew anyone else.
I felt incomplete, like something was missing. Some part of me. I was different than these folks I grew up with. They were calm and quiet and I was not. I was the loud one, one side in the dirt while my mi and cousin wanted to don white gloves and go to tea. The concept of Nature vs. Nurture provided a basis for a lot of retrospective and introspective thinking once I was old enough to understand what it all meant.
While many adopted children struggle with plenty of issues related to their adoptions. I didn’t. I did not break things, I wasn’t angry. The thing I most wanted was to feel belonging to people I resembled in some way . I’ve spent most of my life searching for, looking for people with very specific features, people who I looked like, people who I could share a history with. I convinced myself that my adopted Dad was my “real” father. As we both had curly hair and blue eyes, this was truly a childhood fantasy. I felt so strongly like I should have grown up with other people. Always wondering could I be their sister, daughter, aunt, etc. Knowing I’d never have most of the answers I was hoping for.
I did not like being an adopted only child.
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