When will adoption law catch up with the reality of people's lives?

Recently, I read two reunion stories that once again confirm the absurdity of adoption laws that attempt to deny adopted adults the truth about their own lives.  One is the five-year quest of 47-year-old Terri Vanech, a Connecticut resident who just this month reconnected with her first mother.  The other is the story of Astrid Dabbeni, an adoptee in her early forties who found her first mother in Colombia last year after being featured in a local newspaper article there.  Vanech  and Dabbeni share some similarities:  both have loving and supportive adoptive families, and both longed to know more about their beginnings and personal histories.

Some of Vanech's motivation to search is explained in an article she wrote last year, urging New York legislators to approve an adoptee rights bill.

"Imagine if you didn't have a medical history to share with your physicians," she said.  "Or your children's physicians.

Imagine having to play detective -- and maybe even pay someone -- just to learn your ethnicity.

Imagine if in middle age your home state still treated you like a child and made decisions on your behalf about personal information that everyone else has a right to.

Imagine how your relationships and interactions would unravel, if in your heart you always felt the sting of rejection -- despite having loving, supportive adoptive parents and hearing many stories about 'privacy' and 'best for you.'

Imagine, too, if you were one of the thousands of birth parents who wonder every day about the children they had to let go of."

Vanech persevered in her journey to find her first mother, in spite of some formidable odds and New York State's sealed record system.  Gradually, with the help of search angels, she assembled some clues.  Her mother was 18 when Vanech was born, and she had lived at St. Faith's Home for Unwed Mothers in Tarrytown, New York before the birth in Yonkers.  Her mother was Episcopalian, and she had had her baby daughter baptized at Christ Church, located next to St. Faith's.  Through the baptismal certificate, Vanech learned her original name.

More detective work was required before Vanech was able to locate her first mother, still living in New York after all these years.  Vanech became discouraged and at some points, felt her mission was hopeless.  As she recently wrote to search angel Priscilla Sharp, "Thanks for making sure I didn't give up, because I was surely going to -- more than once."

When Vanech found her original mother, she proceeded slowly.  She and her first mother initially spoke by telephone.  Last week, they met in person.  We who had followed Vanech's journey on-line shared in her apprehension as she prepared for her luncheon, and in her elation as she later sent out a picture of her and her first mother arm in arm, both looking beautiful, and both sharing the same smile.

What a happy ending, and how prophetic Vanech's prediction about the "birth parent privacy" issue turned out to be!  As she had earlier written, "I'm not at all sure anyone actually asked (my first mother) for her thoughts on the privacy thing."  As we know now, mothers who relinquished babies in the past seldom had any choice in the matter, and few were able to move on as if the birth had never happened. 
The happiness and closure Vanech and her first mother experienced might have come earlier, had Vanech not been a victim of the sealed birth record system now in place in New York and the majority of American states.

As Vanech wrote the day following her first meeting:  "Still pinching myself. Woke up swearing it must all be a dream, but no, I got to meet (my first mother), hug her, see here, talk with her. And then I spoke to one of my brothers for the first time, was showered by an incredible amount of love here on fb, was honored to be friended by two "new" cousins and have my neighbor lie in wait for me with tears in her eyes and a box of chocolates. Apologies in advance to everyone I come in contact with today. My head is in the clouds and my heart is overflowing. The brain cells are not working!"

Now you might be thinking at this point, "Not all stories turn out this way."  And of course, they don't. My first mother was not comfortable sharing the circumstances of my birth with anyone, not even her other children.  But I have spoken to her, and I do know the truth.  I don't have to wonder whether my agency's information is accurate, or suffer the indignity of trying to contact her through a state-appointed intermediary I do not know.  As the saying goes, "The truth will set you free," and in my case, it did.

The thought that an agency's information might be inaccurate is not far-fetched.  Consider the case of Astrid Dabbeni, whose parents adopted her and her sister from Colombia through an established and reputable agency. Yet when she met her first mother in Colombia, Astrid learned that her mother had never even approved of or consented to the adoption.

Fearing for her safety and that of Astrid and another daughter, Maria, her mother along with the girls had fled a troubled marriage.  She struggled to support herself and her young family, experienced homelessness, and at one point left her daughters in the care of her landlady as she pursued a better-paying job in another city.  She sent money for her children's care to the landlady regularly, only to find upon her return that the landlady, her possessions, and the girls had disappeared.

Fearful that the police might force her to return to her husband, the mother, Carmenza Castro, didn't report their disappearance, but she did spend every last peso she had to hire a private investigator. Unfortunately, his search yielded no results.   Castro eventually suffered a nervous breakdown and had to be hospitalized for a year.

It is not clear how the girls came to be delivered into the adoption system, but adoption corruption in Colombia was widespread at the time, and according to Laura Briggs, author of Somebody's Children: The Politics of Transracial and Transnational Adoption, the victims of fraud were usually impoverished and socially isolated young mothers unfamiliar with the court system.  As Astrid came to learn, birth certificates and other relevant documents were often falsified and rarely reliable.  When Americans Chris and Norm Reynolds adopted the girls, their birth certificates indicated they were three and four years old. Actually, they were four and six and a half at the time.

Astrid had just a few adoption documents when she began her search, but she did have the 1974 passport photo of her and her sister Maria, and she had a document that indicated she had been born in the city of Bucaramanga.  Those bits of information would later become key, especially when Astrid  learned that adoption records were kept in the system for just 30 years -- and the records of her and her sister's adoption went back 36 years.

Not sure where to turn next, she decided to place a classified ad in a Bucaramanga newspaper and asked  a receptionist in the editorial office if she could squeeze the passport photo into the ad.  The receptionist returned to her desk with an editor, who became intrigued by Astrid's story and asked if he could write and run a feature article.  The morning the feature appeared, a friend of her first mother saw the story and called Castro.  That phone call led to the reunion between Astrid and her 64-year-old first mother.

Can we even imagine what this meeting meant for Carmenza Castro, whose children had disappeared over 30 years ago without a trace?  When Astrid embraced her, she sobbed.  Astrid, of course, was extremely lucky to find her.  Sealed records and in some cases forged records frustrate the pursuit of truth for so many adopted people.  Now the family has closure, and Astrid is improving her Spanish so that she can talk with her first mother regularly.  Astrid's adoptive mother Chris says "Carmenza raised two wonderful little girls, ... and now we have a bigger family."

How many more stories like Terri's and Astrid's will it take before legislators come to recognize that people affected by adoption have the right to seek their own truth and reconciliation?  Sometimes reconciliation comes: sometimes, it does not.  But it is unconscionable that most states in America, through antiquated sealed record laws, continue to block the path to truth, peace and understanding for so many people affected by the very imperfect institution of adoption.

Amanda Woolston in her blog post "Do We Really Know What Adoptees Are Thinking" puts it this way:  "Not every connection is perfect and I never expected my connection with my original family to be perfect -- just real.  I never would have had a chance to know how positive a connection I could have with my original family if I didn't seek it out."

Woolston, like many adopted people, was prompted to search following the birth of her son.  "I looked at my sweet little boy and I could not imagine never knowing anything about him or not seeing him again.  Yet my mother had lived almost 25 years without knowing with who or where her child was.  I accepted that my original mother might not want to know me.  But I believed that she deserved the chance to make that choice herself."

It frankly amazes me that adoption attorneys and special interest groups continue to lobby against adoptee rights bills, and that so little progress has been made nationwide, when the evidence in support of adult adoptee access to their original birth certificates is so strong.  As Terri Vanech so eloquently stated last year, "The great state of New York says I'm not allowed to know.  It is protecting me.  And (my first mother).  From what?!"


You might also like:

A plea to NY's lawmakers: Support the adoptee rights bill

Adoptee searches for her long-lost birth mother in Colombia: Family Matters

Adult Adoptees Sharing: Sealed Records are Misguided and Unfair

What drives the myth of confidentiality in adoption?



  

Why Adoption Experts Sometimes Irk Adult Adoptees

Kudos to blogger Carlynne Hershberger for recently linking to the Psychology Today article: "Beyond Blood: Stigmas about Adoption Remain, and Hurt Families," by Abbie Goldberg, Ph.D.  To date, the article has generated 151 comments, many of them critical about the story's emphasis on stereotypes and stigmas as experienced by adoptive parents.  While a few adoptive parents and adoptees became defensive and lashed out in what I would consider a non-constructive way, many commenters had valuable information to share, and I'm hopeful that adoption "expert" Ms. Goldberg has learned a great deal as a result.

The article generated so much interest, I think, because like so many articles about adoption, it focuses on the feelings and problems of adoptive parents rather than the feelings and problems of adoptees themselves, or of original mothers who relinquished their children.

The story starts with an excerpt from the movie "The Avengers," in which a comment is made inferring that adoptees are "damaged goods."  Ms. Goldberg cites the example to support her theme, that "adoption stereotypes and stigmas are pervasive."

Those of us involved in adoptee rights movements would agree that adoption stigmas are pervasive and that they undermine our efforts to restore our right to secure our own legal documents of birth.  We hoped to see Ms. Goldberg dispel some of the most common adoption stereotypes, such as the wide-ranging belief that original mothers were promised anonymity, or the myth that open adoption has fixed all the legal inequities in the adoption system.

The article, however, quickly becomes all about the challenges of adoptive parents, what they should reply to adoption questions, and how they should educate others about the realities of adoption.  At one point, Ms. Goldberg even asks: "What can adoptive parents do to preserve their sanity?"

This focus, once again, on the experiences of adoptive parents rather than the experiences of mature adoptees who have lived the adopted life for decades, created quite a firestorm.  One commenter sent in an exhaustive list of adoptee blogs and encouraged original mothers to do the same.  "It's infuriating that more isn't known about these voices," she concluded.

That, I think, is the source of frustration.  While adoptees and original mothers struggle to get their stories into the mainstream press, the views and feelings of adoptive parents seem to be welcome everywhere.  Add to that reality the fact that the voices of adult adoptees are largely ignored in the political arena, where the decisions blocking adoptee rights bills are made, and you can see why there are some mighty angry voices out there.

In response to Ms. Goldberg's article, one commenter chastised an adoptive parent who suggested that an adoptee critical of the business side of adoption "seek counseling ASAP."  Explaining why adoptees so often feel disenfranchised, he said, "You have the entirety of a billion-dollar industry supporting everything you say and do.  You have the legal, governmental, medical, religious, and media-based systems of support at your back."

Then there is this comment from an original mother:  "This article doesn't even begin to address the myths surrounding the mothers who lose children.  As is typical in articles discussing adoption, it becomes all about the adoptive parents."

Another original mother reinforces the point: "There's another myth ... mothers were promised anonymity in regards to the children they 'gave up.'  It's a lie!  Most mothers want to be found by the children they lost.  I'm sick and tired of the industry hiding behind my skirts on this issue.  It's not about reunion. It's about civil and human rights being equal."

Naturally, the on-line conversation eventually comes to focus on the travesty of sealed records and other ethical problems in adoption.  "The issue of falsified records alone can be a monumental challenge," says one adoptee.  "We are treated as children and second class citizens while being denied our rights to our own personal birth records."

That adoption as it is now practiced has ethical problems is very clear, as evidenced in this excerpt from an adoption website by blogger Ms. Hershberger:

"The following is a range of total costs and the minimum budget we require to work with us.  It does not include your home study, adoptive parent travel costs, and some states birth mother medical expenses, but does include our fee, travel costs for the birthmother, living expenses, social work and legal fees."

Caucasian: $25K - $40K     Min. Budget of $25K
Biracial: $18K to $25K        Min. Budget of $18K
AA: $15K to $20K               Min. Budget of $15K

As you can see, babies are priced according to their skin color.  Ms. Hershberger correctly asks, "Can you read that and tell me that children are not commodities in this industry?"

How do we fix a system that is this broken and that has strayed so far from its intended purpose to serve the best interest of children?  Sealed records are perhaps the tip of the iceberg when it comes to adoption reform, but they do present a logical starting point.

Here's what I wrote in response to the Psychology Today article by Ms. Goldberg:

"Sealed records are so abhorrent that it is amazing to me that there is still so much institutionalized opposition to adoptee rights bills.  As a 61-year-old adoptee and cancer survivor, I was unable to participate in a medical protocol because I had no access to medical history.  And my story is not unusual.  The response in the legislative arena seems to be, "Oh, well."  Or "We'll let some of you have access to your own legal certificate of birth if your natural mother approves," or "We'll let a state-appointed intermediary search for you," etc., etc.  Such treatment is demeaning, discriminatory and unethical.  When year after year, decision-makers, the adoption industry, and some adoptive parents refuse to listen to what original mothers and adult adoptees are saying, people get angry.  You can only keep the truth bottled up for so long.  Ms. Goldberg, we need adoption "experts" to focus more on the adoptee voice -- it has been ignored in the world of power for decades, while adoptive parents have had plenty of spokespeople all along the way."

The subject of adoption engenders a lot of anger, and understandably so.  That's what happens when the voices of those affected by adoption are routinely ignored by those in positions of power.  Sealed records are an abomination and a stain on all of adoption.  They are indefensible, and there are so many of us who can tell you why.  It is time for all the "experts" and for adoptive parents too to take note and to make the issue a top priority.  Surely we can all agree and speak with a unified voice about the clearly unjust practice of sealing an adoptee's birth record for life.

Sealed Records are Wrong. Period

Raising an adoptive child is not the same as raising a biological child.  It's not better, it's not worse, it's just different, and it requires from prospective adoptive parents a prepared and educated mindset.  Why is this simple truth so hard for some people to understand?

I suppose it boils down to the fact that people really want to believe the simple concept that "love conquers all."
Certainly the adoption industry and attorneys who place babies for adoption want to promote that concept -- it's good for business to present adoption as an uncomplicated and "beautiful way to build a family."

Adoption can be an appropriate way to build a family, if all other options have been exhausted, and if all members within the adoption circle are treated fairly and with respect.  But adoption is rarely simple, and someone is almost always treated unfairly and without respect.  It is all too easy to strip identity rights from infants, who cannot speak for themselves.  And it is all too easy to placate the desires of adoptive parents, the paying customers, without educating them about the psychology of adoption in a responsible way.

Adoption is a complex process that demands extra empathy and understanding, and for adoption to become a respected institution, free of the scandal and controversy that now plague it, that complexity and the inequities of the system as it is now practiced must be acknowledged.

First Mother Forum just ran a beautiful commentary on this issue from adoptive mother Gale Thompson.  Many adoptive parents in her church, Thompson relates, do not want to face the fact that raising adoptive children presents some unique challenges.  Thompson says her views are too often discounted when she attempts to share what she has learned as the mother of two older, adopted youth.  Other adoptive parents, she finds, want to believe that "their kids won't have issues because their love will be 'enough.'"

The myth that "love conquers all" in adoption dies hard.  As Thompson so eloquently explains, "An adoptive mother has to accept that her child's desire to reconnect with his or her birth mother has nothing to do with her personally."

This is a key point that every adoption practitioner should be addressing.  But instead many practitioners -- the National Council for Adoption and state bar associations representing adoption attorneys -- continue to advocate for sealed records, to "protect the privacy of birth parents," they say.

Many original parents have come forward to say that they were never promised anonymity from their own children and that they do not desire it.  A thorough academic study of the history of sealed records has revealed that the sealing practice began to protect the adoptive family from "unwarranted intrusion," not the original parent from later contact from her offspring.  In states that have released original birth certificates to adopted adults, fewer than one percent of original mothers have signed contact preference forms saying they prefer to remain anonymous.

Yet business professionals in the adoption field continue to use the privacy argument as their rationale for denying adopted adults access to their own legal documents of birth.  Their real motive, I think, is this:  They want adoptive parents to believe that adoption is an uncomplicated and beautiful way to build a family.  They want them to believe that if they love the child enough, the identity of the original parents will never be relevant or important.  They want them to believe that in adoption, "love will conquer all."

What a disservice such attitudes render to everyone affected by adoption!  For those of us who have been denied access to our medical history and the most basic information about ourselves, love has not conquered all the inequities of the adoption system.  The adoption industry has not served my "best interests" well.  And it hasn't served the best interests of adoptive parents, either, when it has insisted that raising adopted children is just the same as raising biological children.

As adoptive mother Gale Thompson writes, "Knowing that your love alone isn't 'enough' can strike at a woman's core values (as a nurturer) and sense of identity."  Why set adoptive parents up for a sense of failure by refusing to inform them that adopted people will most likely want to know who gave them birth?  Why not share that that desire is perfectly normal and in no way diminishes a child's love for her adoptive parents?

Sealed records throughout an adoptee's lifetime are demeaning, discriminatory and wrong.  Period.  All the love in the world can never undo that basic fact.