Adoption in books and stories: The power of written representation

Last week, we explored the power of representation in film. This week, we turn the page to books, and the stories that shape how adopted children see themselves. Stories shape how children see themselves, and how the world sees them. For adopted children, the stories they read can offer reassurance, reflection, or unfortunately, reinforce deep-seated fears and stereotypes. Books have the power to validate identity, or to undermine it. That is why adoption narratives in children’s and young adult literature deserve close attention.

In this blog, we explore how adoption is portrayed across books and stories, both where it falls short and where it shines. We look at common themes and tropes, reflect on how these can affect children’s self-image, and share a recommended reading list to help families find books that affirm adopted children’s experiences. We also offer guidance for parents on how to talk about tricky passages or harmful representations with empathy and care. Because when an adopted child turns the page and sees a character that feels like them, it matters.

Explore adoption in cinema

Why representation in books hits differently

Unlike film, which happens quickly and externally, reading is a deeply internal process. Children form personal bonds with characters and often imagine themselves inside the world of the story. They spend time with these characters, read and re-read their journeys, and absorb subtle messages about identity, belonging, and worth.

When adoption is portrayed as shameful, unusual, or something to be hidden or overcome, the child reading may internalise those ideas, often without anyone noticing. But when adoption is written with care and truth, it can offer a lifeline: I am not alone. My story matters.

Common tropes and why they are problematic

1. The “orphan hero” with a tragic beginning

Think: Harry Potter, Cinderella, Heidi, Oliver Twist. In these stories, the main character is often orphaned or abandoned early in life, setting them on a path of hardship before they triumph. While these tales are often empowering, they also risk reinforcing the idea that adoption equals suffering, or that only extraordinary children “rise above” their loss. This is important to highlight as children may start to believe that hardship is inevitable or that their worth is tied to how resilient or exceptional they are.

2. The “cruel or foolish adoptive/foster parent”

Books like Matilda, A Series of Unfortunate Events, The Secret Garden etc show that adoptive or foster carers are often cast as cold, abusive, or ridiculous. The child is misunderstood or mistreated until they find someone “better” or escape altogether. While abuse in care should never be minimised, repeated portrayals of unkind carers can create a distorted view of adoptive families, and which may make adopted children question their own caregiver’s love or intentions.

3. The “search for real parents” as the core storyline

Stories like Anne of Green Gables, Ballet Shoes, or even The Great Gilly Hopkins often centre around an adopted or fostered child’s desire to find or be reunited with their birth family. While curiosity about origins is natural, the resolution often suggests that “real family” means biological. This can reinforce the idea that adoptive families are placeholders, or that love and belonging can only be “complete” when biological roots are restored.

4. The adoptee as emotionally volatile or “other”

In books like Jane Eyre, The Lost Prince, and The Marvels by Brian Selznick, adopted or orphaned characters are often portrayed as solitary, brooding, or misunderstood, positioned as emotionally intense or somehow set apart from the world around them. Their difference is central to the story, and their emotional states are frequently unstable or extreme. Whether they are wandering moors, lost in memory, or disconnected from others, these characters are rarely shown as simply content, playful, or secure. These portrayals feed the myth that adopted children are emotionally damaged, unpredictable, or destined to be forever searching for something or someone to complete them. It suggests that being adopted is a burden that alters personality or temperament, rather than one aspect of a multifaceted identity.

Books that get it right for adoption

Some books, however, offer powerful counter-narratives, where adoption is treated with nuance, care, and emotional truth. These stories create space for complexity without falling into cliché.

Younger readers

Tell Me Again About the Night I Was Born by Jamie Lee Curtis | A gentle picture book that celebrates adoption through storytelling and love, with a strong sense of belonging.

A Mother for Choco by Keiko Kasza | A heartwarming story about a little bird searching for a mother, and finding one who doesn’t look like him, but loves him deeply.

Rosie’s Family: An Adoption Story by Lori Rosove | This book directly addresses common questions adoptees might have and affirms all the feelings they may carry.

In the middle readers

The Great Gilly Hopkins by Katherine Paterson | A complex portrayal of a foster child with anger and vulnerability. While it includes a birth family reunion, it ultimately affirms the value of stable, loving non-biological family ties.

The Length of a String by Elissa Brent Weissman | A thoughtful exploration of transracial adoption, identity, and connection to heritage. Imani, an adopted Black girl in a white Jewish family, searches for both her place in the world and her family’s history.

Counting by 7s by Holly Goldberg Sloan | A quietly powerful story of grief, found family, and personal growth following the loss of the protagonist’s adoptive parents.

Teens and young adults

Far From the Tree by Robin Benway | A moving exploration of sibling connection and identity through the lens of adoption, reunion, and emotional healing.

How It Feels to Float by Helena Fox | While not solely about adoption, this novel explores identity and mental health through a lyrical, sensitive lens that many adoptees may find resonant.

Somebody’s Daughter by Marie Myung-Ok Lee | A nuanced story about Korean-American adoptee identity and the search for belonging across cultures and continents.

What parents can do when reading adoption-themed books

Books unfold in private spaces, inside a child’s mind, at bedtime, in classrooms or quiet corners. The experience is deeply personal, often more internal than watching a film. That means the ideas, emotions, and questions sparked by adoption-themed stories may not surface immediately. Sometimes they live quietly inside a child for a long time before they are ready to talk.

Here are some ways to support that process:

1. Choose layered stories over picture-perfect ones

Children often connect most deeply with stories that reflect emotional complexity. Look for books that hold space for uncertainty, grief, joy, and growth, rather than neat or overly “sweet” portrayals of adoption. These will feel more honest, even if they are messier. When possible, let your child help pick books. Their choices can offer insight into what they’re curious about or ready to explore.

2. Return to stories over time

Children often re-read favourites or circle back to the same character again and again. Pay attention to which books they return to, it might be about more than plot. Revisiting a story at different ages can also allow for layered understanding. What felt fun at age seven might carry new meaning at age ten.

3. Let books open quiet doors

Not every story needs an in-depth conversation. But books often create moments of closeness where deeper dialogue feels safe. You might notice a line, a character, or a theme that offers a natural way in. Sometimes a simple comment like, “That reminded me a little of adoption,” is enough to start a meaningful exchange. The goal is not to analyse every story, but to be available when your child wants to go deeper.

4. Create a ‘shelf that sees you’

Children benefit from seeing themselves reflected on their bookshelves. Consider building a collection of books that include adoption themes across genres, funny, fantasy, realistic, and emotional. Include books with diverse families, characters of different races and backgrounds, and stories where adoption is present but not the central conflict. This may help normalise adoption as one part of life, rather than something “special” or different.

These small, intentional acts, offering choice, revisiting stories, creating space, and curating representation, can help your child feel seen and supported in ways that matter long after the book is closed. You do not need all the answers or the perfect reading list. You just need to be present, curious, and open to the stories that matter to them. Because sometimes, it is not just the book that holds the meaning, it is the quiet connection formed in the act of reading together.

A thought to end with

Books stay with us. Long after the last page is turned, they echo in the questions we ask, the ways we see ourselves, and the stories we begin to tell about who we are. That is why representation in literature matters. Not just because stories shape imaginations, but because they shape identities. When adoption is written as a mystery to solve, a wound to carry, or a difference to be hidden, children may absorb that narrative as their own. But when adoption is portrayed with honesty, warmth, and respect, it becomes something else entirely: a reminder that they are seen, understood, and worthy of love just as they are.

As parents, carers, and allies, we do not need to avoid difficult stories. But we do need to offer balance, choice, and conversation. We can fill bookshelves with characters who are adopted, and also brave, silly, clever, kind, and complex. We can help children claim their place in stories where they are not defined by what they have lost, but by all that they bring.

Because every child deserves more than representation. They deserve recognition and the chance to see themselves, not as a question to be answered, but as the hero of their own story.

Speak soon,

The Walk Together Team