Thirsting for Truth: What I Wish the NJ Catholic Conference Had Said

This is another post by Jenn, Susan's daughter. Susan, adopted in New Jersey as a 6-month-old in 1950, first searched for her birth mother at the age of 47, when she was diagnosed with Stage II malignant melanoma. After her experience with the adoption agency, which told her that the case was closed after making only one phone call to her mother (standard protocol), she became involved in the fight for adoptee rights. In 2013, Susan was reunited with her two wonderful biological sisters a month after being diagnosed with Stage IV malignant melanoma. They had been searching for her. Finding them was one of the great miracles of her life and brought her peace "deeper than [she] ever thought possible." Susan died eight months later, on April 7, 2014, surrounded by her family. She believed that someday, though perhaps not in her lifetime, there would be justice for adoptees. 

All three of my children were baptized by Father Michael Doyle at Sacred Heart Church in Camden. They were baptized at an altar  that has been visited, through the years, by Mother Theresa, Cesar Chavez, Mairead Corrigan, Martin Sheen, Thich Naht Hahn, and many, many other admirable peacemakers, including Father Michael himself.

My mom and Joseph in July of 2013

Though she was not Catholic, my mom was the one who first brought me to Sacred Heart, years before, because she had heard of the beauty of the service, especially the singing, which she always loved. She was also there for each baptism, standing beside my family on the altar.

I thought of this two weeks ago when I opened The Catholic Star Herald and, to my great dismay, saw the headline: "Birth parents must take action to preserve their privacy." Ironically, it was right below a picture of a family next to a banner that read "Thirsting For Truth." Thirsting for truth, indeed.

Here is what, in a spirit of truth, I wish the article had said: First, the title. "Adopted Adults to Gain Access to Their Original Birth Certificates" sounds good to me. It is a statement of fact informing readers of the law that was signed on May 27th, 2014 (less than two months after my mom's passing). That law goes into effect on January 1st, 2017. In the 13 other states that have already enacted similar laws, thousands upon thousands of adoptees and birth parents (especially birth mothers, from what I have witnessed) have benefitted (For powerful insight into how this law actually helps birth mothers, see Jean Strauss' short film Four Birthmothers: https://vimeo.com/119964199).

"For well over a century, the Catholic Church in New Jersey has provided adoption services." That is true. That can stay. "Throughout all those years, the Church promised to honor the privacy of birth parents and adoptees. That promise of privacy also was assured by law and affirmed by the State Superior Court." This is an outrageous lie. Birth certificates were originally sealed to protect the adoptee from the "shame" of  illegitimacy, a practice that is, thankfully, no longer needed. And birth mothers never really had any rights (see, for example, actress and birth mother Kate Mulgrew's beautiful memoir, Born With Teeth.  Her experience with the Catholic adoption agency where she relinquished her child is one I have heard echoed again and again and again: "Before I left ... there were things to do. I wanted to look [the director of the Catholic Charities adoption agency] in the eye and ask her for mercy, a sliver of mercy, nothing too untoward. I wanted to ask her if my baby was all right ... I wanted a photograph of my baby ... I pleaded, struggling to maintain my composure ... [making no progress, she then goes to speak to the director of the Catholic Home Bureau maternity services, who tells her, "You gave up that right when you relinquished your baby, didn't you?]

Me with Genevieve, now 9, on her baptism day at Sacred Heart.

"Any birth parents who wish to preserve their privacy must submit a Redaction Request Form to the New Jersey Department of Health ... the New Jersey Catholic Conference will be working to alert birth parents ... We need help. We ask everyone to spread the word that birth parents must take action to preserve their privacy. We need to notify family members, friends and neighbors that birth parents could lose their privacy. If you know a person who placed a child in adoption, please tell them that if they do not file a Redaction Request Form, their name and other information could be given to the adoptee." Oh my. Words like "alert" are so alarming! How about: "While those closely involved with adoption recognize that hearing from a relinquished child may, in some cases, be upsetting to a birth parent, they also recognize that all human beings have a right to know their identities. This fundamental right has been upheld by the United Nations, which in Article 8 of its Treaty on the Rights of the Child confirmed that "[1] State Parties undertake to respect the right of the child to preserve his or her identity, including nationality, name and family relations as recognized by law without unlawful interference [and] [2] Where a child is illegally deprived of some or all elements of his or her identity, State Parties shall provide appropriate assistance and protection, with a view to re-establishing speedily his or her identity. Adult adoptees who obtain their original birth certificates are seeking the truth of their own lives, and in thousands of cases they have been able to do this while respecting the privacy of their birth parents. Thus, we need your help. Please let anyone you know that is adopted or that has given up a child for adoption that starting on January 1st, 2017, adoptees in New Jersey will (finally) have access to their original birth certificates. Birth parents can file a "Contact Preference Form" stating whether they would like contact directly from the adoptee, through an intermediary, or not at all (in which case they will be asked to fill out a medical and family history form). In other states where records have been unsealed, thousands upon thousands of adoptees and birth parents have found peace and healing after years of secrecy. More information about this law and what it means for adoptees and birth parents is available at http://www.nj-care.org/. How about that? How about: Because the New Jersey Catholic Conference values truth, mercy, and justice, it stands by this law, despite its former opposition to it.

We are all thirsting for truth. May each one of us some day stand on the altar of those who have given their lives fighting for it and find ourselves worthy. "  And you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free" (John 8:32).

A favorite moment from this summer. My son Joseph with my cousin JT (the son of my mom's biological sister) at a coffee shop in Montreal. Joseph looks just like pictures of JT when he was young. This was the day after the women's World Cup game (vs. Germany), and though we both knew the other was there for the game, our phones weren't working so we weren't able to meet up. We simply ran into each other in this city of millions. You can see how thrilled Joseph is (he loves JT). I know this would have made my mom so happy. 

Reunion in Montreal. Love rejoices in the truth... (Corinthians 13) 

And Yet It Moves - In Support of HB 162

Another post by Jenn, Susan's daughter. Susan passed away on April 7th, 2014, eight months after being diagnosed with Stage IV melanoma and seven months after being reunited with her two biological sisters. 

My mom, dad, me and family, a month before her diagnosis

And yet it moves. Eppur si muove. These were the rebellious words uttered by Galileo from prison after he was condemned by the Catholic church for continuing to insist that the earth was not the center of the universe, that it moved around the sun. Many intellectuals of the day also condemned him, so attached were they to their own world views. Galileo, a devout Roman Catholic and an intellectual, cared both about his faith and scientific truth, and it is exactly because of this that he could not be silent in the face of what he knew to be true. And yet it moves. 

My mom, an adoptee, passed away in April of 2014. There are two truths about her death, and I cannot be silent about them. First, she died from melanoma, a (censored) disease that not even the most wonderful oncologist in the world, with the highest level of training, was able to stop. She was diagnosed in July, still feeling wonderful, after finding a small lump in her leg. A week later, knowing what lie ahead but still feeling healthy, she awoke one beautiful Saturday morning at the beach to see that two dark, ugly spots of melanoma had now appeared, one on her toe and one on her face. It was confirmation that this (censored) disease was now coursing through her, maliciously and aggressively. It was horrible. Good people fought valiantly on her behalf. My mom fought valiantly. But in the end, it was not enough.  We lost her. 

My mom also perhaps died, and certainly suffered needlessly, because she was an adoptee. She was blocked by the state (in this case New Jersey) from seeing her original birth certificate because of an antiquated law (now changed), and thus she was blocked from her true and complete medical history (the information the adoption agency released to her was flawed, at best).  She was also blocked from being able to communicate directly with her biological family, and thus from knowing two wonderful sisters for the last 16 years of her life. Not knowing that melanoma was present in her biological family likely contributed to her physician missing the melanoma when her symptoms first occurred.  As with all cancers, timely diagnosis and treatment is crucial for survival.  When she looked into going to court to have her birth certificate unsealed, the lawyer with whom she consulted let her know that she had little chance of winning because she "already had cancer." 

Because of this -- because having her original birth certificate sealed from her was perhaps as responsible for her death as the melanoma itself, and certainly responsible for much unneeded suffering -- it is difficult for me to read about the testimony of the Pennsylvania Catholic Conference and the Administrator of Orphans' Court Services against Pennsylvania House Bill 162, which was passed unanimously by the House in October 2013, then stalled in the Senate without a vote prior to the end of the 2014 term. HB 162 would allow adult adoptees access to their original birth certificates. The ACLU also sent a letter opposing the bill, which was equally difficult for me to read. 

In past years Pennsylvania Catholic Charities has testified -- without any facts to support their arguments -- that unsealing birth certificates would lead to more abortions. The facts support the opposite. Abortion rates in states where records have been unsealed have actually decreased slightly. This year, perhaps recognizing this, the Pennsylvania Catholic Charities' testimony centers more around its "concern" for birthparent privacy. As a Catholic, I find this testimony particularly upsetting, and misleading. Many birthparents have testified in support of this law (and Catholic Charities in other states has actually reversed its position and supported similar laws). Birthparents have a right to privacy from prying public eyes, yes, and from harassment. We all do. This law provides for privacy. It just does not allow for secrecy. Adoptees, on the other hand, currently have to share the most intimate details of their life just to possibly get their birth certificates (by going through an intermediary, or petitioning the court). I have one adopted friend who has never searched simply because when she learned everything she had to go through (for the mutual consent registry), she found it all too daunting. There are many adoptees, and birthparents, like her. 

The Administrator for Orphans' Court Services speaks of "profound and grave consequences" for birthparents if this law is passed based on her "many years of experience doing search services." One only need to look at the many states that have already enacted similar legislation -- where there have been no "profound and grave consequences" -- to realize that this is not the case. As a side note, when I searched on Google for this administrator's name, to learn more about her (why would anyone, especially someone involved in adoption and claiming to care deeply about the welfare of all involved, oppose this law?), the first link that appeared was one detailing the fees charged for "Adoption Search Inquiries" ($50 for non-identifying information, $150 if you want more -- and this is only after the court approves your petition). As a non-adoptee, I could get my birth certificate easily for $20. 

And the ACLU? Andy Hoover, ACLU of Pennsylvania legislative director, said in an open letter earlier this month: "HB 162 upends the respect for privacy in adoption procedures. Pennsylvania law already allows adoptees' access to important medical and social information of their biological parents without disrupting the privacy of the birth parents' identifying information." No, it does not. Adoptees are suffering, and yes, even dying, because the current system does not work for them. Many, many adoptees, birthparents, and adoptive parents have testified to this. I lived it with my mom. So let me say it again, emphatically: the current system (registries, mutual consent, etc) does not work. And the law now being considered does allow for birth parent privacy (with the contact preference form). I have not once heard of an adoptee taking out a billboard to reveal to the world the identity of her biological parents. We are talking about a person's right to know his or her true identity. It is a human right, and the ACLU should know that. Instead, they defend sealed records as an extension of a woman's right to reproductive health, equating an adoptee to an abortion. I may not have a law degree, but I can see the glaring fallacies in this argument from afar. 

So shame on you, Pennsylvania Catholic Conference, Orphans' Court Services, and Pennsylvania ACLU. You may talk and talk about the need for sealed records despite mountains of evidence to the contrary -- you may even believe in the sanctity of your cause --  but those who know the truth, who care about life (ALL life) and liberty (ALL liberty) will not be silent. I support them. In time, I believe everyone will.  And yet it moves. Eppur si muove. 

DEAR PENNSYLVANIA FRIENDS, HB 162 WILL BE VOTED ON THIS MONTH OR NEXT. PLEASE, IF YOU CAN, CALL THE MEMBERS OF THE HOUSE COMMITTEE ON CHILDREN AND YOUTH (ESPECIALLY IF IN YOUR DISTRICT - I'VE LISTED LINKS TO OUR AREA BELOW) AND EXPRESS YOUR SUPPORT FOR THE BILL. IF YOU KNEW MY MOM, OR KNOW ME, YOU CAN DO SO IN HER MEMORY. SHE KEPT FIGHTING FOR THIS LAW, EVEN AFTER SHE HAD HER OWN INFORMATION, BECAUSE SHE SO BELIEVED IN ITS IMPORTANCE FOR ALL OTHERS. I BELIEVE IN IT TOO. THANK YOU! -Jenn

Acosta, Leslie (Philadelphia County, District 197)

717-772-2004

Brownlee, Michelle (Philadelphia County, District 195)

717-787-3480

Conklin, Scott, Minority Chair

717-787-9473

DeLissio, Pamela (Philadelphia County -- offices on Ridge Ave!)

717-783-4945

Greiner, Keith

717-783-6422

Hill, Kristin

717-783-8389

Keller, Fred

717-787-3443

Kim, Patty

717-783-9342

Kinsey, Stephen (Philadelphia, 201st District, went to Germantown HS)

717-787-3181

Klunk, Kate

717-787-4790

Lewis, Harry (Chester County)

717-787-1806

Maloney, David (Berks County)

717-260-6161

McCarter, Stephen (Montgomery County)

717-783-1079

Miller, Brett

717-705-7161

Miller, Dan

717-783-1850

Moul, Dan, Vice Chair

717-783-5217

Nesbitt, Tedd

717-783-6438

Parker, David

717-787-3364

Rader, Jack

717-787-7732

Ravenstahl, Adam

717-787-5470

Rozzi, Mark (Berks County)

717-783-3290

Saccone, Rick

717-260-6122

Santarsiero, Steven (Bucks County)

717-787-5475

Santora, James (grew up in Drexel Hill!)

717-783-8808

Stephens, Todd

717-260-6163

Toohil, Tarah

717-260-6136

Watson, Katharine, Chair (Bucks County - went to UPenn)

717-787-5452

Good Guys and Bad Guys in Adoption

Joseph: "Am I a good guy or a bad guy?"

Another post by Jenn, Susan's daughter. Susan passed away in April, 2014, 8 months after being diagnosed with Stage IV melanoma and 7 months after meeting her biological sisters for the first time.  

My three year old son, Joseph, gave me a kiss the other morning and said, "I'm not a bad guy, right, Mommy?" His question surprised me. "Of course you're not," I told him, "You're a good guy." Joseph, who loves superheroes so much that he owns both a Spiderman and a Superman costume, takes these matters seriously. In the car a bit later, I realized where his question had come from, though. The night before, this "good guy" had gotten angry (maybe rightfully so) at his sister and bitten her (not rightfully so). In her anger, she yelled, "No! You're bad!"

We had a little talk with Joseph's sister that night about the difference between doing something bad and being bad, and the need to differentiate between the two when talking to her three-year-old brother, but the incident, along with Joseph's question the next morning, got me thinking again about the recently released film The Box Trolls, which I saw with the girls last weekend, and which plays with this question as well."Who am I?" Eggs, the main character, an orphaned boy raised by underground cave-dwelling trash collectors, asks at one point. The one true bad guy in the movie, Archibald Snatcher, never asks himself this question, of course, but he does take great pains to disguise himself so that others don't know who he is. What was most interesting to me, though, and most similar to Joseph's incident with his sister, was that the men who helped Archibald Snatcher in the movie did so because they thought they were doing, and being, good. "We are the good guys, right?" they ask at one point.

The Box Trolls shows the importance of LISTENING to those children
who find the courage to tell their own stories. 

Oh how I wish those who aid in the work of opposing adoption reform would ask themselves the same question, and then reflect. And then change. In fact, I wish that all those who aid in the work of opposing adoption reform would go to see The Box Trolls. In the movie, the adoptee, Eggs, is completely ignored when he tries to tell the truth about what happened to him. Those who raised him, the Box Trolls, are also ignored (and nearly exterminated), and his biological/original father is forced out of the picture, too. At one point, the entire town, enamored with Archibald Snatcher, is willing to sacrifice Eggs to preserve its own erroneous thinking. They are not bad people, but they are most certainly doing something bad, and Eggs, the adoptee, is the victim (and might I point out that the adoptive parents and the original/biological parent(s) are the victims too).

"Who am I?" is a question we all need to ask ourselves, and adoptees know that the search for the answer to that question is bit more labyrinthian for them (because some of the most basic answers to that question are legally blocked by those claiming to be "good").  "Am I a good guy or a bad guy?" is another question. The answer can change, depending on what we do.

In the movie, when Eggs bravely announces the truth of his own experience to the entire town we, the viewers, know that this declaration should be revolutionary, that it should result in great, dramatic change, but the town doesn't listen at all. They don't do anything! Archibald Snatcher, of course, ramps up his actions to keep his dirty scheme going. He can't do it alone, however. He needs people to go along with him, to believe his lies. Will they? Will you? Adult adoptees have bravely spoken, and are speaking, about their lives. The results should be revolutionary. Whether or not they are depends a lot on whether or not we are good guys or bad. I think we can be good.

Please Do What's Right: PA HB 162

Another post from Jenn, Susan's daughter. Susan passed away on April 7th, 2014.

The vote is Tuesday. Two days from now, Pennsylvania's Senate Committee on Aging and Youth will consider PA HB 162, which would allow adult adoptees access to their original birth certificates. I think my mom's voice, below, eloquently states the case for why this is a loving and just bill. If they vote no, it might be another 10 years before similar legislation even has a chance. Please, please consider calling the members of the Senate Committee tomorrow, especially if you live in Pennsylvania and are an adoptee, adoptive parent, or birth/original mother. I have spoken with SO many of you from this triad who understand the urgency of this bill, but I am not sure that yours are the voices the legislators are hearing. They are hearing from lobbyists for the adoption industry and those with a political agenda. For me, it comes down to this:

1) Adoptees are fully human and therefore deserving of all the rights ever other human being enjoys in this country.

2) Knowing who you are, and having access to your original birth certificate, is a right. Most people don't ever have to think about this.

3) No other group of people is denied its rights with the justification, "Just feel lucky you are alive" (i.e. that you were not an abortion). We are all lucky to be alive. And study after study after study has shown that open access laws either DO NOT impact abortion rates or LOWER them. And I find the PA ACLU's argument that denying adoptees access to their original birth certificates is part of "a woman's reproductive freedom" ridiculous, and I hope any thinking adult would as well (as much as I respect the ACLU on other issues). Once again, adoptees are REAL people, and should have the same rights as everyone else under the law.

4) This is thus a civil rights issue -- an issue of giving everyone equal treatment under the law. To repeat myself, it is loving, and it is just. Please call! (phone numbers of Senate Committee Members after my mom's post)


Facing a Life-Threatening Illness and Thinking About Adoption (originally posted by my mom in July, 2013, one week after her Stage IV melanoma diagnosis)

This past week has been the most difficult one I have ever endured.  I  had just returned from Spain, where I felt great and walked at least five miles every day.  I noticed a little bump on my thigh and had my friend, a surgeon, take a look at it.  He thought it was vascular, but scheduled an ultrasound just to be sure.  The results were concerning, so the next day I went in for a PET scan.  That day I got the devastating news that the melanoma that I had 16 years ago has returned and metastasized.

It is surreal to go from feeling just fine one day to being told that you have stage 4 melanoma the next.  I vacillate from feeling as if I am an actor in a play to feeling sick at my stomach as I contemplate what I am facing.  On the bright side, I have the best husband, daughters and extended family in the world, and I have been surrounded by caring and love every minute of every day.  My best friend can keep me laughing no matter what the circumstance.

Part of my beautiful support team -- granddaughter Grace and daughter Jenn in Spain


My physician daughter was able to schedule an appointment for me with one of the best melanoma doctors in the world within the week.  There is hope, and I am going to try to hold onto it with all my might.  As she explained to me, we don't talk of curing melanoma at this stage, but in ongoing clinical trials at Penn, they are seeing partial and complete remissions in a number of patients through a combination of standard and immunology therapy.  I qualify for the trial, and after several more procedures this week and next, will be getting started.

I welcome prayers from those who pray, positive energy from those who meditate, and good wishes from one and all.  I am working hard on mindfulness exercises, as I can see already that a major challenge in all of this will be letting go, living in the moment, and controlling the racing of my mind.

As my thoughts and emotions have careened all over the place this past week, I have been thinking about why I have been so dedicated to adoption reform and adoptee rights over these past 16 years.  I was blessed with loving adoptive parents, and I found myself feeling so very close to them this past week, as I sat on a bench looking out over a beautiful cove where I had grown up sailing and water-skiing with my parents and brother.

But like many adopted people, I feel connections to other people as well.  Neither I, nor any adoptee, should ever be forced into an either-or kind of thinking, in which one set of parents is recognized and validated, and one set is not.  Having experienced the paradoxes and willful mistruths of the adoption system, I myself have no tolerance for half truths and the masking of deep truths.

Throughout my life, I have learned that the road to peace is never through falsehood, and I think that is the reason I have always felt so devoted to truth, fairness and social justice.

It is truly misguided and so very wrong for the state to attempt to block two grown adults from knowing the truth about each other's identity -- especially when those adults share such a deep, primal connection.  We cannot and should not ever block a human being's path to truth, peace, forgiveness and love.

I was told through the agency that placed me that my original mother did not want any contact with me.    With help from several enlightened souls, I found her on my own and sent her a sensitive and compassionate certified letter, asking her also for medical history.  As a human being facing a medical crisis 16 years ago, I felt that I was worthy enough to at least ask for information.  I received it, and eventually my original mother told me over the telephone that she had always loved me "in her heart."  Not every adopted person will seek out her original parents or get even that far in the journey.  Some will get further.

But how dare the state block the possibility for that love to be expressed?  How dare they?  Let people -- adults with minds and souls of their own -- find their own way.  Facing a critical illness at the moment, I can tell you with certainty that there is nothing that is more important than love.  Nothing.  Please, let's let the light, the truth and the love overcome the misguided fears and the ideology.

There is no difficulty that enough love will not conquer,
no disease that enough love will not heal;
no door that enough love will not open;
no gulf that enough love will not bridge;
no wall that enough love will not throw down;
no sin that enough love will not redeem ....
It makes no difference how deeply seated
may be the trouble; how hopeless the outlook;
how muddled the tangle; how great the mistake.
A sufficient realization of love will dissolve it all.
If only you could love enough you would be the happiest
and most powerful being in the world.

Emmet Fox

SENATE COMMITTEE ON AGING & YOUTH

(Please, if you can, call them and urge them to vote yes on HB 162, which would allow adult adoptees access to their original birth certificates. Calls are probably more effective at this point. If you prefer to email, the email addresses are in the previous blog post)

CHAIR:

Senator Randy Vulakovich
Senate Box 203040
Harrisburg, PA 17120-3040
(717) 787-6538
FAX: (717) 787-8625

1407 Mt. Royal Blvd.
Glenshaw, PA 15116
(412) 487-6600
FAX: (412) 487-6607

VICE CHAIR:

Senator Scott Wagner
Senate Box 203028
Harrisburg, PA 17120-3028
Room: Room 460 Main Capitol
(717) 787-3817
FAX: (717) 783-1900

218 North George Street
York, PA 17401
(717) 846-2828
FAX: (717) 852-8478

MINORITY CHAIR:

Senator Sean Wiley
Senate Box 203049
Harrisburg, PA 17120-3049
(717) 787-8927
FAX: (717) 772-1588

1314 Griswold Plaza, S. 100
Erie, PA 16501
(814) 453-2515
FAX: (814) 871-4640

MAJORITY MEMBERS (Republican)

Senator Joseph Scarnati III   (Ex-Officio)
Senate Box 203025
Harrisburg, PA 17120-3025
(717) 787-7084
FAX: (717) 772-2755

410 Main Street
Brockway, PA 15824
(814) 265-2030
FAX: (814) 265-2040

Senator David Argall
Senate Box 203029
Harrisburg, PA 17120-3029
(717) 787-2637
FAX: (717) 783-8657

One West Centre Street
P.O. Box 150
Mahanoy City, PA 17948
(570) 773-0891
FAX: (570) 773-1675

Senator Lisa Baker
Senate Box 203020
Harrisburg, PA 17120-3020
(717) 787-7428
FAX: (717) 787-9242

2512 Route 6
Hawley, PA 18428
(570) 226-5960
FAX: (570) 226-5964

Senator Bob Mensch
Senate Box 203024
Harrisburg, PA 17120-3024
(717) 787-3110
FAX: (717) 787-8004

Senator Bob Mensch
404 Main Street, Suite A
Pennsburg, PA 18073
(215) 541-2388
FAX: (215) 541-2387

Senator Elder Vogel Jr.
Senate Box 203047
Harrisburg, PA 17120-3047
(717) 787-3076
FAX: (717) 772-2756

488 Adams Street
Rochester, PA 15074
(724) 774-0444
FAX: (724) 773-7384

MINORITY MEMBERS (Democrats)

Senator Judith Schwank
Senate Box 203011
Harrisburg, PA 17120-3011
(717) 787-8925
FAX: (717) 772-0578

210 George Street, S. 201
Reading, PA 19605
(610) 929-2151
FAX: (610) 929-2576

Senator Michael Stack
Senate Box 203005
Harrisburg, PA 17120-3005
(717) 787-9608
FAX: (717) 772-2162

12361 Academy Road
Philadelphia, PA 19154-1927
(215) 281-2539
FAX: (215) 281-2798

Senator John Yudichak
Senate Box 203014
Harrisburg, PA 17120-3014
(717) 787-7105
FAX: (717) 783-4141

1701 Wyoming Ave.
Exeter, PA 18643
(570) 883-4690
FAX: (570) 883-4694

Joseph, My Mom, and Unanswered Questions

Joseph in May. He has grown up so much since September.

This is another post by Jenn, Susan's daughter. Susan passed away on April 7th after an 8-month battle with melanoma. 


 This Thursday was my son Joseph's last day of school until next year, and we celebrated by bringing in fruit for the class and letting his teachers know how thankful we are. When I picked him up he was sitting happily with his friends, laughing and eating his snack, and though he was happy to see me, he wasn't in any hurry to leave.

What a difference since September, when I first brought Joseph to Kindercare, which is right across the street from where I teach in Philadelphia. He was two then and, because of my mom, had never before had to go to daycare or school. Like my girls, Joseph loved "Nana Days," when my mom brought him to the Discovery Museum or the playground and generally showered him with love. This September, a mere month after my mom's diagnosis with Stage IV melanoma, Joseph started school. He sobbed and clung to my leg when I dropped him off, and when I picked him up afterwards, nearly eight hours later, he was so overcome with emotion that he fell off his chair onto the floor as soon as he saw me and again broke into sobs. "Mommy," he said, and the look on his face was clear: "I didn't know if you were coming back."

Joseph on the first day of school, looking a little nervous.

Of course I was coming back. And as Joseph saw that this was true, day after day, week after week, and as he made friends and played on the playground and grew to love his teachers in the two-year-old classroom (Ms. Wanda, Ms. Stefanie, Ms. Jessica, Ms. Angie), he began to relax and enjoy himself. Eventually he gave me a hug and a kiss goodbye in the morning and ran off to play with his friends.

Joseph at 3 months, when my mom first started caring for him.

None of this is to say that no longer having my mom care for Joseph was not a huge loss, or that her two years of caring for him were not extremely important in his life. I plan to tell Joseph stories about his time with my mom for the rest of his life so that, if he doesn't remember himself, he will at least know. He will know how much he was loved, and what sacrifices were made for him. And another thing: none of this is to say that had I not come back, for whatever reason, that Joseph wouldn't have been truly traumatized, regardless of how wonderful his teachers were. And he would have been especially traumatized had all reasons for me not coming back been blocked from him forever. Had all information about me been blocked from him forever. I've been thinking about this lately as I think about the mysteries surrounding my mom's early life because of her adoption. She was three months old when my grandparents took her home. Three months! Who held her during those days and weeks before her new life? Who first saw her smile? Was she loved, spoken to, rocked back to sleep when she cried?

This winter, my mom received a letter from the Children's Home Society of New Jersey, the adoption agency that placed her, in response to a letter she had sent them asking for more information about her life, since she had been reunited with her sisters and her original mother had recently passed away.  What possible reason was left for any secrecy? The agency did send my mom more information about her father, and an older son that he had, but wrote that they could tell her nothing about who cared for her for the first three months of her life. "We could have you speak with a current foster family if you are curious as to what that experience is like," they wrote. That made us laugh.

My mom and dad also received another letter from
the Children's Home Society of New Jersey this

My mom, me, and Joseph in Parque Retiro, Madrid, in July 2013.

winter, one in response to their letter urging the agency to support S873/A1259, or the Adoptees Birthright Bill (signed into law in NJ in May) which will allow adult adoptees access to their original birth certificates, or OBCs. The American Academy of Pediatrics and the Child Welfare League of America, among many, many other groups and institutions, support legislation such as this. Still: "We will take no position on the bill," the agency wrote to my parents.

I must admit that this is as much a mystery to me as the first three months of my mother's life. Why would an institution whose sole goal is to protect children not speak out on behalf of those thousands of children it placed for adoption who had their rights stripped from them? Donna Pressma, President and CEO of the Children's Home Society of Trenton since 1986 even chairs, according to her biography, a committee for the Child Welfare League of America (this one on children with HIV).

There are some other mysteries for me as well, mysteries I was reminded of as I searched the agency's website for clues to my mom's history, to my history. For instance: Why must an adoptee pay anything in order to receive information about his or her own family history? I knew that my mom paid for the piece of paper with minimal information about her original family (the one we laughed about for its inaccuracies with my mom's sisters this fall) back in 2002, but the prices listed here reminded me how much. $75 for basic information, $200 for a complete background, and $500 for a search, meaning that the agency would attempt to contact an original family member for you. $100 for each additional search (a sibling, a father). $50/hr for a pre-search counseling session. If I remember correctly, for my mom this consisted of someone asking her, "Why do you want to know?" (Eventually, my mother would pay several thousand dollars to an outside source to find her mother on her own so that she could deliver a letter to her "in her own voice," something I believe that is important for all adoptees to be able to do).

Also: why did my mom's original mother ever have to pay anything to the adoption agency? This winter my mom's sister Jo gave us a letter her mother had kept all these years about just this. Apparently she had fallen behind on payments but finally caught up, and a letter was sent to acknowledge this.  My mother's parents also paid a lot of money to finalize her adoption. I know diapers and formula are expensive, but ... well, it just doesn't add up.

Joseph at 2 months. So much had already happened in his life. Where and with whom was my mom at this age?

Children's Home Society of New Jersey, if you are reading, let me say that it seems, from your website, that you do some wonderful work for children. You wrote to my mom that you read her letters with "great compassion," and indeed much of your work does seem to be infused with this compassion. Yet how can compassion for adopted children stop once they become adults and begin advocating for their rights? Where is the compassion in charging them $500 simply to connect them to the parent or parents that you had a part in separating them from? And why can't we know where my mom was for the first three months of her life? Do those records not exist?

Faced with the losses tied up in sealed-records adoption, one can become overwhelmed. Faced with any loss, actually, one can become overwhelmed. I know that's how I was feeling last September when I picked up Joseph, sobbing, from the floor after his first day of school. Back in the car, once he was safely buckled, I let the feelings sink in. What I had already lost with my mom's diagnosis. What I might lose. Mom.

It was then, when I was feeling most lost, that the phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, but something made me pick it up. Joseph, unusually, sat quiet in the back.

"Hello, this is Jenn," I said.

"Jenn? Jenn Gentlesk?" spoke a sweet, yet inquisitive, and perhaps slightly nervous voice.

"Yes."

"I received your letter today, your letter you sent by certified mail, the one about your mom, Susan Perry ... I'm ... her sister." Carol then explained that my mom had another, younger sister (Jo), and that they both had been frantically searching for my mom for two weeks, ever since Jo had accidentally found a birth record in her mother's apartment.

I can't speak for my mom, but I know that at this moment in my life, when I was feeling a bit as though God had dropped me off at daycare and was never coming back, to hear "We were frantically searching for you," and then to be found, was nothing less than miraculous. I am grateful, and humbled, to have been touched by this miracle. It has sustained me through this incredibly difficult year. And I'm hoping that, like Joseph at his school, each day going forward will be a little easier for me. That each day I'll find some joy.

Yet is shouldn't take a miracle (or thousands of dollars) for people who are related to each other by blood to find each other. There are enough mysteries and tragedies in life that we can't do anything about and need true miracles for. As I reflect on this year -- the beautiful reunion with my mom's sisters, the devastating loss of my mom -- I know there are some questions that I'll never be able to answer. But others, well, I'm going to keep searching until I find what I'm looking for ... I'm going to search for answers for my mom.

My mom and Joseph in Spain last summer. She would hate how she looked in this picture (she had just woken up on our first day in the country, and was jet-lagged from our day of travel), but I love how her hand is on Joseph's leg, and how happy they look just sitting together.

Adoption, Catholics, and Moral Responsibility

Daughter Genevieve at her First Holy Communion in May. Innocent and sweet. She has helped remind me of the beauty of faith, especially in a child, as I struggle with my feelings about the Catholic church's role in blocking adoption reform.

(This is another post from Jenn, Susan's daughter. Susan passed away on April 7th after an 8 month battle with melanoma)

I arrived home this afternoon to find the Catholic Star Herald, the official publication of the Camden Diocese, along with my other mail. I don't always have a chance to look through this paper, but something made me open it today. Because Catholic groups (The Catholic Conference, certain Right to Life groups, the Knights of Columbus) have been among the most outspoken against adoption reform, which would allow adult adoptees access to their original birth certificates, and because my own Catholic faith is important to me, I am always holding my breath, slightly, when I encounter public expressions of the Catholic faith. My mom, an adoptee, shined the light on adoption for me, and I will never be the same. I cannot be silent now in the face of what I know to be untrue. Sealed records are a violation of the adoptees' basic rights as a human being, pure and simple, and they should not exist, anywhere.

Sealed records have also been used to perpetrate and hide horrible crimes over the past century, including Spain's stolen baby scandal (http://content.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,2112003,00.html),  Argentina's stolen baby scandal (http://www.bbc.com/news/world-22004491), and, yes, right here in our back yard, the United States' stolen baby scandal (http://www.babythief.com/home.html). Though I have not yet seen the movie Philomena, I hear that this, too, shows the scandal of sealed records, and the role of the Catholic church in promoting them. Spanish journalist Natalia Junquera, who led the newspaper El País' investigation of the baby thefts in that country, said of those who facilitated illegal adoptions: "They honestly thought they were doing the right thing." As difficult as it is to accept, I do believe that there are some who fight against adoption reform who honestly think they are doing the right thing. It's time to stop. Sealed records have never been, nor will they ever be, "the right thing."

After opening the Catholic Star Herald this afternoon I first came across a lovely reflection by Jean Denton called "Discovering God through Christ-like actions," which ended, "When we live the way of the Christ, others discover God." Amen. Two pages later, though, my heart stopped when I saw the commentary on S873/A1259, a bill to open adoption birth records in New Jersey, by Patrick Brannigan, executive director of the New Jersey Catholic Conference: "Adoption law and moral responsibility." Moral responsibility, indeed. Every Catholic, every human being, does have a moral responsibility to consider the effects of unjust laws sealing adoptees' true identities from them forever. This is partly about getting medical information, yes (my mom died from melanoma, which ran in her family, which she did not know, despite her attempts to gain "full access" to her family medical history), but it is also about more than that. It is about the state (or any institution, including the Catholic church) not getting involved in blocking any human being's knowledge of his or her origins. It is about finally reforming adoption to be, first and foremost, about the welfare of the adoptee, the "voiceless party," the innocent child. Thousands of these innocent children, now grown up, have told us what they need (access to their original birth certificates without ever having to go to court to show "good cause"), and that must be respected. And please, leave those adoptees who have said they don't feel the need to search for their birth parents out of it. Had you spoken with my mom at age 30, she would have told you the same thing. But she changed, and when she realized she had no rights, she became an activist. This is the most personal of personal decisions. As my adoptee friend told me, "Searching is the most vulnerable you will ever be." We have a moral obligation to protect the vulnerable.

Which brings me to the claim that sealed records help to protect the vulnerable unborn -- the future adoptee -- from abortion. This argument is false. And there are many people fighting for adoption reform who, despite their own pain, their own lack of rights, wouldn't be in this movement if the argument weren't false. Some evidence even points to the idea that abortions increase when records are sealed because mothers cannot face the pain of a future forever locked away from their child. Certainly, states that have NEVER sealed records (Kansas, Alaska), and those that have passed adoption reform allowing adult adoptees access to their original birth certificates show that these fears are completely unfounded (abortion rates have either dropped, or not been affected). The claim, "Adoption, not Abortion!" (as posted on the Knights of Columbus website) is misleading, divisive, and hurtful. Choose Life! (We'll help you!) would be more truthful, more responsible, and more loving.

Yes, there is a moral responsibility when it comes to Catholics and adoption, but the commentary in this week's Catholic Star Herald is hugely misleading as to what that is. "Thousands of birth mothers placed their children for adoption, relying on the church's assurance of their privacy," writes Brannigan, "...we have a two-part moral obligation to ... establish a robust educational campaign to alert birth parents that New Jersey's law has been changed ... and [we] must make available counseling and other services for birth parents who will be impacted by this significant change in law ...People - mostly mothers - will be vulnerable because of this change in our long-established law."  In states that have passed adoption reform allowing for adult access to the original birth certificate, fewer than 1% of birth/original mothers have filed 'no contact' preferences, so we are hardly talking about thousands of women here. And, in the words of another adoption rights blogger, the women who "don't want to be found" are usually "scarred and scared" -- often from the shame heaped upon them for being unwed and pregnant, and then from the trauma of giving away their child. So yes, counseling might be a good idea, but not in the way it was presented in this commentary. The majority of birth/original mothers want to be found. Many of them have testified on behalf of adoption reform. Those who are scared and scarred (such as my mom's original mother) will not suffer by being contacted by their children. A good counselor would help them realize that.

And one more thing. Brannigan also writes, "Over the years, NJCC [the New Jersey Catholic Conference] message was consistent." This is not true. Those fighting adoption reform these days say they are doing so on behalf of the birth mother, but in the past they argued that it was for the benefit of the adopted child (to protect him/her from the stigma of illegitimacy) and for the adoptive parents (to protect them from interference from the birth parents). The message has changed through the years.

This year, as my mom, a longtime advocate for adoption reform, suffered and died while this public campaign was fought, I was saddened that the faith I needed to turn to for comfort was tainted for me by outspoken members who spoke out against reform. But my faith is strong, and the church community I am a part of is loving and beautiful. Still, it was a struggle. Often at night, cut to the core by the impending loss of my mom, I would turn to the Gospels to try to find the comfort I longed for.  I craved miracle stories, healings, signs of God's love, but I opened, again and again, to Matthew 23: the denunciation of the Scribes and Pharisees. Jesus, speaking to the crowds and to his disciples, says: "Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you, but do not follow their example. They tie up heavy burdens [hard to carry] and lay them on people's shoulders, but they will not lift a finger to move them." Jesus then has some choice, harsh words for the "hypocrites," and all winter and early spring I wondered what comfort there was in that harshness.

Reading my mom's diary in her closet.

Ultimately, it was my mom's words that showed me that comfort. In the months leading up to her death, I was also preparing my daughter Genevieve for her First Holy Communion. She had retreats and classes each week, and each time I dropped her off, or attended with her, I struggled with my feelings. I did not want to betray my mom, or contribute in any way to the suffering of others (by supporting, through my presence or my donations, opponents of adoptee reform).  But I also saw in Genevieve's retreats, in her devoted teacher, and in the innocent, trusting faces of her entire class, the beauty of the church. The week before Genevieve's First Communion, just three weeks after my mom's death, my sister and I met at my mom and dad's house to go through some of my mom's things. Our hearts ached as we went through her t-shirts, her socks, her beloved bathing suits. After an hour or so, her closet nearly empty, we decided to take a break. It was then that I came across her diary from 1963. She had been 13 years old then. I sat down on her closet floor and read. Descriptions of ice-skating, dancing, visiting her Nana ... I smiled even as my heart broke, missing her. Her love of life, of family, was so clearly there. The entry for Sunday, January 6th, however surprised me. "This morning I took my first communion as I joined my church just before Christmas. To me, it was a very meaningful service and reminded me of Christ's presence with us always. I know that it is an experience I shall never forget." I could almost hear my mom laughing at this, remembering her story about the first time she doubted her faith, when a Sunday school teacher explained to her that Mary was just floating around on a cloud, looking over them, literally. But I also felt its deep sincerity. "It sounds like a boring day but really it was wonderful," she wrote. Her belief in God was real, tender, and sweet. Much like Genevieve's. It was only later that the Scribes and Pharisees got in the way (and I am not talking about that poor, well-meaning Sunday school teacher who told that story. I've said some ridiculous things myself, I'm sure).

"It sounds like a boring day but really it was wonderful"

My mom was able to make peace with her God, and she loved the women's prison ministry she was a part of for many years, but she was never quite able to shake her distrust of the "institution" of the church, which so often seemed to do exactly the opposite of what Jesus preached. She also saw what the institution of adoption, supposedly set up for her benefit, did to her and others, and she said a simple, "No thank you." I respect her for that, and I ask that all well-meaning Catholics, including those who have been outspoken against adoption reform, do her the honor of at least considering, or reconsidering, their views. You might even say we have a moral obligation to do so.

Sweet Genevieve opening the necklace we gave her for her First Holy Communion.

Overcoming the myths that thwart adoptee rights bills

All of us involved in the adoptee rights movement have heard comments like these:

"Why do you believe adoptees should have all the rights in the world and birth parents should not? You go on and on about how adoptees have had this traumatic experience because they were adopted, and I don't want to discount that pain for I'm sure it is real for some; however, I find it disgusting that you conveniently forget how traumatic giving up a child can be for a birth parent, and if a birth parent does not want to ever be found by their biological child, they should have that right."

To combat such attitudes, we share facts like the following:  Original parents have never had the legal right to anonymity from their own offspring.  Every state has some mechanism by which adoptee birth records can be opened by court order, and two states never sealed birth certificates from the adopted person at all.  Also, research conducted by law professor Elizabeth Samuels shows that birth records were not sealed to protect the anonymity of original parents, but to protect the adopted child from the "shame of illegitimacy" and the adoptive family from "unwarranted intrusion."

Many, many adoptees find their original families without their original birth certificates, because many have some identifying information on their adoption decrees.  Estimates indicate that some 40 percent of adoption documents contain some identifying data; both my brother and I, for example, always had our original names. This fact alone should support Samuel's conclusion that records were not sealed for the purpose of protecting birth parent anonymity.

The viewpoint that allowing adults to secure their own original birth certificates will endanger the well-being of birth parents assumes that there are hordes of original parents out there in the world who wish to remain in hiding.  The data from states and countries that have restored original birth certificate access to adult adoptees, however, shows that a tiny minority of original parents -- one to four percent -- express a preference for no contact. 

Some of the most ardent supporters for adult adoptee rights, in fact, are original mothers, who tell us they did not choose anonymity -- rather, it was forced upon them by the adoption system.  Carlynne Hershberger, both an adopted person and a mother who years ago relinquished her child to adoption, explains her viewpoint this way:

"As an adoptee AND a mother of adoption loss I have to say that the rights of the adoptee to know their origins trumps anyone else's right to keep secrets. When I was being manipulated out of my daughter I was not promised secrecy or anonymity. I was TOLD to keep secrets and TOLD not to look for her because it could cause her harm. What mother wants to cause harm to her child? Once we are all adults, we all have the right to choose who to have a relationship with. The government, adoption agencies, brokers etc... have no business being involved in whether or not two adults speak to each other or meet."

The adoption system has done a great disservice by pitting original mothers against adopted people, as if the two parties must have some kind of adversarial relationship, and as if the original birth were so shameful, it must never be spoken of or referred to again.  If the original parents placed us out of love, as so many of us were told, why would they wish to never hear from us again?

Julie J explains the view of many adopted people like this:  "Adoptees do not discount the pain of their mothers. This is not a pain that adoptees created nor chose for anyone. They are both victims of a larger societal system. Mothers & their children are largely on the same side, they are not adversaries as others with ulterior motives try to paint them. Let the mothers speak for themselves instead of having AP's or adoption industry reps speak for them. Listen to the mothers. They are not the ones speaking out against adoptee rights. Reunion often brings about a level of healing that is very healthy for all involved, mothers included."

It is, in fact, very difficult to get original mothers to speak out for the sealed record system, even through other parties.  For example, in its efforts to thwart adoptee rights bills, the New Jersey State Bar Association (NJSBA) has repeatedly asked for birth mothers desiring secrecy to allow their attorneys to testify on their behalf.   A letter sent out by the NJSBA on January 5, 2007, literally begs for original mother input.  It reads:

"Dear Family Law Section Member:

We are once again, requesting that anyone who has a client who is a birth mother, who would be willing to let you testify on their behalf in opposition to S-1087 (an adoptee rights bill), please contact ...

So far, only one person has come forward willing to have their attorney testify on their behalf.  This legislation has already passed in the Senate and is poised for Assembly vote in the near future.  We desperately need others."

You can see why adoptee rights supporters become so cynical, when facts like these are ignored year after year.  The evidence is clear:  No legal document has ever been produced indicating that original parents were promised anonymity, and most original parents, in fact, are open to contact from their surrendered offspring.

Even legal decisions from the higher courts have supported the rights of the adult adoptee to access her own birth records.   Here's what the Oregon State Court of Appeals decided in 1999, after a small group petitioned the courts to overturn the law that would grant adult adoptees equal access:  The state may release original birth certificates to adoptees "without infringing on any fundamental right to privacy of the birthmother who does not desire contact with the child."

If that decision isn't clear enough, the U.S. Court of Appeals (6th Circuit) said this in 1997, after another group petitioned the courts in Tennessee to overturn the law that would grant some adult adoptees access to their own birth certificates:  ..."If there is a federal constitutional right of familial privacy, it does not extend as far as the plaintiffs would like."  The Sixth Circuit Court further explains:  "A birth is simultaneously an intimate occasion and a public event -- the government has long kept records of when, where, and by whom babies are born.   Such records have myriad purposes, such as furthering the interest of children in knowing the circumstances of their birth."

So according to several court decisions, there is no constitutional right to privacy for original parents.  At this point, opponents to adoptee rights might concede:  All right, there is no legal right to privacy, and most original parents are open to contact.  But what about that one to four percent who want to remain undetected?

I would reply that a human being has a right to know his or her own origin, and that it is unjust and discriminatory to treat an entire class of people -- adopted adults -- differently by law than we treat everyone else.   Who does the birth certificate belong to, really, other than the adopted person herself?

Adoptee rights bills usually allow the original parents to express their preferences for direct contact, contact through an intermediary, or no contact.  This is an option that original parents don't have today, and reunions are taking place all the time.  Fair adoptee rights bills, like those enacted in Oregon, Alabama, Maine, New Hampshire and Rhode Island, enable the adopted adult to secure her original birth certificate and become aware of any preferences the original parents might have.

Adoptees don't have a right to a relationship with original parents, but they do have a right to information because their birth history is actually part of them.  Adoptee Julie J explains the concept this way:

"While there is a right to choose not to have a relationship with anyone else, there is not a right to remain anonymous to the son/daughter a woman chose to bring into the world. That is called a preference, and very few mothers have that preference. Preferences cannot trump basic rights. Once born, he/she is a full-fledged citizen with all the rights that everyone else who is already here has. Knowledge of family & relationships with family are 2 different things. Relationships always require the consent of both parties. Knowledge of who you are & where you come from is a human right that everyone deserves. It does not require the permission of anyone else. That being said, the overwhelming majority of mothers do support these ideas and are overjoyed to be reconnected with their lost sons/daughters."

The key point here is, "Knowledge of family and relationships with family are two different things.  Relationships always require the consent of both parties."  I often wonder what opponents to adoptee rights think the adopted person is going to do if the original mother says she does not wish to have contact going forward.  Like all human beings, we do not wish to go where we are not wanted.  When, we wonder, will full-grown adults -- original mothers and adopted people -- be left alone to work out their very personal issues on their own?

Many people do not realize that adoptees once enjoyed full access to their original birth certificates.  Records were sealed to adoptees only in the mid-twentieth century as part of the shame-based "Baby Scoop" era, and often in response to the desires of adoptive parents.

As Julie J explains, "Adoptees are not asking for any rights that everyone else does not already have. Our mothers already have access to their own accurate record of birth. Our AP's already have access to their own accurate records of birth. We once did. We only want that restored. Doing so does not take away anyone else's rights to theirs; it makes adoptees equal to the non-adopted."

Equal rights for adult adoptees.  It shouldn't be the novel and controversial subject it is in legislative circles.  And it wouldn't be, if only facts, rather than myths and emotion, would inform the debate.


You might also like:

Why do State Bar Associations Oppose Adoptee Rights?

ACLU-NJ Misses the Mark on Adoption

Sealed Records are Wrong. Period

Sealed Records -- A Secret the Industry Would Like to Keep