Me, The Monsters, and Sinead O’Connor
By Marci Purcell
Surely you’ve heard the news. In the spirit of what she embodied, I won’t mince words. Sinéad is dead. I am not one of those bandwagon fans that decide, now that she’s gone, she was an unparalleled treasure. In my little world, she has always been exalted. When I was escaping my childhood home, then subsequently processing my mother-loss and what had happened to me, Sinéad gave me the permission I needed to be angry—no, not angry—to be outraged at what was perpetrated against me…against us. This was cathartic. Grateful to her, I turned to her music time and again as I embarked on my healing journey and during the decades that moved me from injury to activism. To say that her passing saddens me is seriously inadequate, but I cannot find the words without resorting to clichés.
A few years ago I did an internet dive to check in on her and was distraught to learn she was still unhappy, still grappling with losses, still in an existential crisis…still trying to make sense of it all. I was gutted because she’s been such a propelling force in my life, helping me battle my demons and, as much as anyone can, move on from my childhood trauma.
I hope she found some peace in her expanded identity and new name, Shuhada’ Sadaqat. As an adoptee, her search for something solid and defining resounds within me.
These words, after weeks of media platitudes, tribute concerts, and the like, feel worn and frivolous. Well, then, so be it. I’m resigned to them. I’m going to add my voice to the cacophony and force the world to listen. There are kids stuck in unspeakable realities and survivors, years later, still struggling to make sense of it all. My survivor community, normally just scattered kindling, Shuhada’ lashed us to one another and set us ablaze through her music. Her lyrics and protests gave us a voice. Of course, a quirky-broken-defiant-fragile-angry-strong-stubborn voice. A voice filled with ashy complication. But what other kind of voice could it be? Recalling all the times I shout-sang along to “Fire on Babylon” while driving away from my life, tears emblazoned on my face, running from monsters, I crack a smile and raise a fist to all she gave to me and to all the broken-hearted, stubborn-ass survivors out there who, just like me, are carrying the fire forward.Marci Purcell is an activist and adoptee. She’s a board member at Adoption Knowledge Affiliates and serves on the advisory board of Support Texas Adoptee Rights (STAR). Purcell is committed to advocacy and reform relating to the rights of adult adoptees, foster care alumni and overall truth and transparency in adoption. She’s also passionate about disability rights in the broader community and as they relate to foster care, adoption, and records access. Purcell has had several opinion editorials published related to adoptee rights and is working on her memoir. She resides in Austin, Texas.