By Stanley Collymore

My beloved mum, bless her, confidently and candidly outlined to me shortly after I’d initially become a teenager and, as such, it was reasonably assumed by her that I would be more capable of fathoming out as well as being better able to understand and accept the serious ramifications of what had unfortunately happened to her, and in the process of these occurring had resulted in her inadvertently becoming pregnant with me, her daughter, when she was just a teenager herself, in what was for her a life changing situation as great in its structure as any such state of affairs for a young, unmarried, distinctly sheltered and a white, upper Middle Class girl could possibly be!

Namely that the clearly unpropitious origins of my life were matters which mum obviously hadn’t planned for and, furthermore, the man whom she was involved with, had come from her own social circle of friends and who is, of course, my biological father did not, it abruptly turned out shortly after their rather fleeting romantic and essentially on mum’s part a one-sided relationship, regard mum in the least as someone who was special to him, or that he even casually wanted around long-term in his private life.

So most brutally confronted with the stark reality of what she ruefully deeply regretted doing but had rather unwisely and unwittingly allowed to happen to her, mum simply and quite pragmatically put her personal ordeal behind her and shrewdly attributed it to experience coupled with the harsh fact that this arrogant man to whom she’d affably and consensually relinquished her prized virginity had effectively upon her doing so secretly considered her as nothing more useful to him than being a short-lived series of one-night stands.

Ordered by her parents in conjunction with the full support of her older siblings to have an abortion or failing that put me, her baby, up for immediate adoption the moment I was born, mum adamantly and disdainfully rebuffed both these coercive ultimatums; but as a consequence of her courageous action and open defiance of her parents was summarily and spitefully thrown out of the family home.

A single parent with no practicable resources of her own or any viable means of readily attaining any, mum with me in tow was very much on her own, but undaunted she never gave up and against all the odds landed a job and a flat of her own. And despite things being incredibly hard at times she was never remiss at doing her very best for me, and when as often happened sacrifices had to be made, it was mum who stoically insured that it was always her and never me who shouldered that burden.

Then when I was seven and with mum doing her customary school run, something incredibly happened. Mum accidentally met and progressively thereafter formed a meaningful relationship with a Blackman, a surgeon, who privately was a divorcee and himself a single parent with a mixed race son two years my senior. His dad’s divorced situation having come about when his cheating, white wife on being found out, rather than honourably face the adverse consequences of her adulterous actions, chose instead to run off with her lover.

Interestingly, informatively and gratefully from my perspective mum kept me fully informed about the status as well as the progress of her new romance: the first in years since she became pregnant with me. A highly commendable action on her part and very appreciative on mine as she always ensured during this time that I didn’t feel left out or in the slightest side-lined by what she and her new partner were doing, or the direction in which their relationship was heading. Then unsurprisingly the inevitable, I suppose, and also what I’d been secretly hoping for occurred – mum and her partner, whom I’d voluntarily grown to love, admire and think the world of, decided to, and gleefully informed me that they were getting married. And, equally importantly, with my assent of course, my prospective stepdad wanted to adopt me.

I was exultantly over the moon on receipt of this knowledge, and with the son of mum’s partner already very encouragingly by me and quite delightfully as well successfully playing the role of big brother to me, my unqualified permission as regards my being adopted by this truly remarkable man who was perceptibly deeply in love with my mum as she reciprocally was with him was instantaneously given, in certain recognition that mum would similarly be adopting my new stepbrother too.

However, unforeseen circumstances temporarily put our joint celebrations on hold. Crawling out of the woodwork they’d ensconced themselves in and for the first time since kicking her out of their home my mum’s parents malevolently embarked on a cruel and negative recourse to yet again destroy her life, her future and her happiness by petitioning the British family court not to give its consent to what my mum’s parents most arrogantly and disingenuously claimed was a grievous insult to both them and their “white granddaughter” being adopted by a culturally inappropriate and highly unsuitable Blackman.

This notwithstanding that they’d not had any contact whatsoever with mum after they’d unpleasantly ejected her from their home, had never met me or even enquired about my welfare at any time during mum’s pregnancy or in the aftermath of my birth. And as for my prospective stepdad who earnestly wished to become my father they knew absolutely nothing of and cared even less about. So theirs was a petition based solely on mendacious stereotypes and outright racism in the steadfast hope that given the climate of discrimination prevalent in Britain their unjustified intervention would be accorded to them a favourable conclusion. And it did! With the court ruling that my adoption wasn’t only completely unnecessary but also in the given circumstances entirely unsuitable as well. However if my mum still wished to adopt my mixed-race stepbrother, the court would look favourably on the matter and the merits of her application.

Of Barbadian ancestry, although born and raised in Britain, my mum’s partner immediately contacted the appropriate authorities in his ancestral homeland and outlined his position. As expected their response was completely different. So taking a purposeful flight from Gatwick Airport, the four of us: my stepdad, stepbrother, mum and me, headed off to Barbados where in the presence of supportive relatives and friends there, and in quite a lavish wedding, mum and her partner were ecstatically married. And at that said ceremony with a Barbadian High Court judge in attendance for the occasion my new brother and me were mutually, delightedly and legally adopted by the two persons we could now proudly and openly call mum and dad.

Fast forward to the present and with both my brother and me in our twenties, I’m a qualified medical doctor just like my dad, and earnestly intend one day to similarly like him become a surgeon. My brother, for his part, having successfully graduated with excellent law degrees at university has meanwhile been called to the bar and is now studying to be a barrister. And as for my mum, who has always wanted to be a teacher and lecturer, having acquired a PhD in English, a degree that she initially started with the Open University, is now in the final stage of completing her PGCE (Postgraduate Certificate in Education). To which I can with pride and quite unapologetically assert: “What an exceptional family!”

© Stanley V. Collymore
30 November 2019.