Relative Strangers: Q & A

What’s the book about?

Relative Strangers: Inheritance, Identity, and the Meaning of Kinship is a collection of essays by acclaimed and emerging memoirists whose lives and families have been upended by the discovery of unknown close family. These surprises can occur in many ways but most often arise as a result of DNA testing. Each essay probes some aspect of the aftermath of these revelations: identity disruption, family dysfunction, longing and searching for biological family, the complexities of reunion, the heartbreak of rejection and its flip side—the joy of deep connection. They also look at the difficult work of reconstructing identity and redefining family. These are complex, fraught experiences. Even in the best of circumstances they are destabilizing, at least temporarily, and in the worst, are deeply traumatic.

Where did the idea for the anthology come from?

Not surprisingly, from personal experience. My mother, whom I never knew, introduced ten relatives strangers into my life. When she was 22 and I was nine months old, she left my father, me, and her toddler son—a child from a prior relationship with an older married man. All my life, I had no idea what had become of her and longed and searched for her across decades. It wasn’t until I was in my mid-fifties that I stumbled upon an obituary, which indicated that she was survived by six children. I reached out and developed close relationships with these siblings, filling in pieces of my origin story. But a few years later, I discovered that the man who raised me wasn’t my biological father. Having been raised to believe I was half Ashkenazi Jewish, I learned through research that I was actually Sicilian, and that my biological father had died almost twenty years earlier. Through research and DNA testing, I’ve discovered three additional siblings. Though these experiences are often very challenging, and many people face cruel rejection, I’ve been fortunate, and all but one of my discoveries has been a joy.

Why is this topic important now?

 The anthology arrives during a seismic cultural shift in which our understanding of family is in flux. In past decades, parents often adopted children or created families through donor conception with no intention of telling their children about their origin stories or their biological families. But DNA testing and advocacy by adoptees and donor conceived people are taking aim at and undermining the practices of anonymity that have upheld those secrets. By 2025, well more than 40 million people have taken DNA tests, and approximately one in four discover an unknown close relative. And it’s estimated that between one and five percent of all who test discover an unknown parent. So millions are affected by these mind-blowing discoveries. Still, these experiences are often trivialized. In a time and place where genealogy is a national pastime, family is revered, and lineage is a source of pride, the desire to know one’s genetic identity and the challenges of not knowing are widely misunderstood. This book helps those who’ve discovered unknown family cope with the emotional fallout and brings awareness to those who never have. As DNA testing soars in popularity, this phenomenon will only continue, suggesting that the essays in this collection will be evergreen.

Who’s your ideal reader?

This book will resonate with adoptees; people with misattributed parentage; fans of creative nonfiction, literary essays, and memoir; and those with an interest in genealogy and family secrets. It’s a must-read for psychologists, social workers and other helping professionals who may counsel individuals with identity disruption and trauma related to DNA surprises and family disfunction. But my ideal readers also include the general public—anyone who might one day be contacted by an unknown close relative and who, with knowledge, may be better able to respond with empathy, compassion, and open arms.

Are there any misconceptions about reunion for adoptees and others who search for biological family?

There’s often an idea that reunions are always joyful, fulfilling occasions. And while they often are, they can also be messy, complicated, and unsatisfying. Individuals may have different expectations and desires. It’s difficult to try to develop a deep relationship with people who, though in fact close family, are strangers and have grown up independently. And even in the best of circumstances, it can be difficult to sustain relationships across distances and among people with different backgrounds, beliefs, and lifestyles.

As you developed this project, were you inspired by any other anthologists?

I’ve been a fan of anthologies for a long time, and among those most inspiring have been Michele Filgate’s What My Mother and I Don’t Talk About; Lilly Dancyger’s Burn it Down; Amy Ferris’ Shades of Blue; Sari Botton’s Goodbye to All of That; Meghan Daum’s Selfish, Shallow, and Self-Absorbed; and, most recently, Jenny Bartoy’s No Contact.

What do you want people to take away from these essays?

My hope is that those who’ve had these experiences will feel seen and heard—that their experiences will be validated by the stories of others who’ve traveled the same path. And I want those who have not had such experiences—who have genetic privilege, the knowledge of their origin stories and the identity of their biological family members—to understand what it’s like to lack that privilege; to understand that genetic identity matters, that it’s a birth right.