Bastardized
English: The Oregonian censors a beer's name.
In Atlantic City, N.J., they've seen it all: Showgirls,
high-rollers and Elvis impersonators are just passing
color in the palette of the East Coast gambling mecca.
But they'd never seen anything like Bastards on the
Boardwalk.
Last weekend, Bastard Nation held its annual convention
in Atlantic City. About 100 Bastard Nationals from around
the country descended on the Boardwalk Holiday Inn for
three days of revelry, speechifying and bastard training.
This is the third annual convention for the Bastards,
and this year there is a lot to celebrate. Last year,
in San Francisco, the Bastards discussed how to break
out of obscurity. This year, they swapped notes on their
talk-show appearances.
What happened in between? Two key victories.
In Tennessee, the state supreme court ruled just two
weeks ago to uphold a legislative rule that opened birth
records to some adoptees.
But more important, Oregon voters approved Measure
58 last November, the first time state law had been
overturned to make original birth certificates available
to adult adoptees.
Helen Hill, chief petitioner of Measure 58, was given
celebrity status in Atlantic City. "We're on a roll
here," she told attendees. "This whole thing is cracking
open."
That's not to say it's all smooth sailing.
As Measure 58 continues to gain national attention,
it's also drawing national opposition. The National
Council for Adoption, a Washington, D.C.-based group,
has filed for standing in a lawsuit brought by six anonymous
birthmothers against the state. This would give the
NCFA, an outspoken opponent of open records, standing
in the case against Measure 58, which may end up in
the U.S. Supreme Court.
In addition, although the Bastards have reason to gloat,
it was evident at the conference that they're experiencing
severe growing pains. In August, BN's legislative chair,
Shea Grimm, left the group and moved from Redmond, Wash.,
to Hawaii. Grimm was widely considered to have a brilliant
legal mind and helped Hill strategize the Measure 58
campaign.
No one in BN will talk on the record about Grimm's
departure, but it has left a hole in the organization.
"The personal dynamics have shifted," says Ron Morgan,
a San Francisco resident who is one of the leaders of
Bastard Nation. The group is run by a committee of four,
who are located around the country.
"The next year will be crucial for the organization,"
Morgan says.
One thing BN plans to do is stop attacking the traditional
adoptee-rights groups they don't agree with.
The most powerful national group is the American Adoption
Congress, based in Washington, D.C. The AAC has been
working for years to open records and is responsible
for the new law in Tennessee. But the Bastards have
been openly and sometimes nastily critical of the AAC,
accusing it of selling out civil rights in hopes of
fostering reunions.
In Tennessee, for example, the new law opens both the
original birth certificates and the adoption files,
which are filled with personal information about the
birth families. However, there is a provision in the
law that allows birth mothers to give their consent
on whether they want to be contacted by their offspring.
In adoption vernacular, that's called a contact veto,
and breaking the veto is a felony.
That's the sort of thing that makes a Bastard's blood
boil, and the group has criticized the AAC for working
on the bill.
BN's mission centers on the civil right of adoptees
to get their original birth certificates--no strings
attached. The organization is against anything that
gets in the way, even if it would be easier to pass
compromise legislation.
"We're not apologizing for anything," Morgan says,
"but it's time to move on."
One thing that won't be changing, however, is the
Bastards' name. While it turns off and angers many people,
to BN, it's an important signifier of the way adoptees
are treated in America.
"We're striking out at an epithet that's been around
ever since people have been screwing and making mistakes
with their screwing," says Hill.
Still, it's hard for even some adoptees to take.
On Saturday, the bastards held a rally on the Boardwalk.
It was a raucous event. Adoptees wore baby clothes and
carried massive pacifiers to symbolize how the state
infantilizes them, and the birth mothers wore bags over
their heads to hide their identity.
During the rally, a senior-citizen couple from Philadelphia
walked by. When asked what they thought of the ruckus,
the woman said that she was all for opening records.
She had been adopted herself some 60 years ago and had
never been able to find her people.
"But I don't like that name," she said. She shook her
head at the explanation that some radical groups like
Queer Nation purposefully appropriate the words that
have been used against them. Just then, a Boardwalk
bag lady who had been listening interrupted the conversation.
"All they want is their birth certificates," she growled.
"That's not radical."
"The personal dynamics have shifted. The next year
will be crucial for the organization."
--Ron Morgan
BaSTaRDiZeD
eNGLiSH
When you put the word "bastard" into your name,
you're bound to draw attention. But that attention doesn't
always result in publicity. Just ask
The Oregonian's
beer writer.
A careful reading of John Foyston's Oct. 1 Brew News
column in the A&E section shows that it's not just
the beer that gets filtered in this town.
Reporting that the Horse Brass Pub was adding a new
brew to its lineup, Foyston described it as one of "the
beers of Stone Brewing Co. of San Marcos, Calif."
Well, which one? Stone Pale Ale? Stone Smoked Porter?
No, the mystery mash was Arrogant Bastard Ale. Foyston
explained the linguistic gymnastics in an e-mail posted
to Oregon Brew Crew, an online beer-enthusiast club:
"The paper's policy is to not print anything that even
a few people in our large readership might deem offensive.
I ran the 'Arrogant Bastard' past a couple of layers
of editorship and all agreed that it wouldn't fly in
this paper. I think it's a drag, but it's the reality
of working at a large, corporate-owned family newspaper.
I figured it was better to pull the punch (in a way
that makes me cringe worse than you) and still get the
information out, rather than avoid writing about the
tasting altogether.
"Certainly, it's fun to laugh about--just imagine the
contortions we have to go through to avoid publishing
the names of some of the new bands around--but that's
the reality, much as we worker bees in the newsroom
might wish we could use the full range of colorful,
colloquial English."
Greg Koch, president of Stone Brewing, says he knows
of no other paper that balked at publicizing his latest
offering. And it's possible that Foyston's self-censorship
was unnecessary. During the Measure 58 campaign, the
Big O mentioned Bastard Nation in at least a couple
of stories.
--John Schrag
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Willamette Week | originally
published October 13,
1999
