Commenting on the recent failure of Congress to approve even tepid gun control measures, Washington Post columnist E.J. Dionne wrote: "The story of reform in America is that it often takes defeats to inspire a movement to build up the strength required for victory."
As an adoptee rights activist, I couldn't help but relate to what Dionne is saying here. The fight for gun control and the struggle for adoptee rights have each become so politicized that the facts are often ignored and progress seems all but impossible.
I can't even begin to imagine the disgust and betrayal that families who have lost loved ones to gun violence must feel at our government's paralysis and ineptitude. Will they now redouble their efforts to press for legislative changes? Or will they conclude that no matter what they do, it is simply impossible to compete with the well-funded, special-interest lobbies in Washington?
As a proponent for adoption reform in the state of New Jersey, I have felt both ways. At times, I feel that no matter what we do, we just can't compete with the entities that have easy access to legislators: the NJ Conference of Catholic Bishops, NJ Right to Life, the NJ Bar Association, the National Council for Adoption, and ACLU-NJ. Then later, often fueled by a dramatic setback, such as Gov. Christie's "conditional" veto of an adoptee rights bill that already contained a significant compromise, I feel compelled to keep pressing on.
Several members of the New Jersey Coalition for Adoption Reform and Education (NJCARE), adoptee Pam Hasegawa and original mother Judy Foster, have been lobbying for over 30 years now for the right of adopted adults to access their own factual certificates of birth (OBCs). Having worked with the group for 10 years now, I am awed and inspired by their hard work, perseverance and integrity.
It is truly discouraging that NJCARE's position that adopted adults should be treated equally by law and have the same access to their original birth certificates that any other American citizen has is still considered controversial by some lawmakers. Once, as Foster was explaining to a legislator that she was never promised anonymity from the child she relinquished, the legislator responded, "Well, you should have been!"
And that, unfortunately, is the response of many power brokers to the adoptee rights issue -- don't confuse me with the facts! Instead of listening to the people who have actually lived the adoption experience, they listen to those who facilitate adoptions and who profit from adoption transactions.
Another huge hurdle for the adoptee rights movement is that the issue has become intertwined with the ongoing political battles over abortion. The immediate reaction in some circles is to see adoption as the win-win solution to the abortion dilemma, and the fear is that abortions will increase should we make adoption a more transparent process.
The reality, however, is that there is no link at all between abortion rates and adult adoptee access -- today, we have plenty of data compiled from open access states to substantiate the fact that there is no correlation.
We have actually been told by some NJ legislators that the facts don't matter when it comes to this issue -- it is all about politics. I, for one, don't know exactly how to proceed in the legislative arena when facts don't matter. I am a logical, straightforward type of thinker, and if all the data supports the right of adopted adults to be treated equally under the law, then laws guaranteeing that right should be enacted.
Instead, what I have witnessed over the past 10 years is an Assembly Speaker who refused to meet with us and who would not release to the Assembly floor an adoptee rights bill that had widespread support; an Assembly member who added such expensive and unrealistic amendments to an adoptee rights bill that it had no chance to move forward; another legislator who introduced an "alternative" bill at the very last minute when the success of a balanced adoptee rights bill seemed imminent; and a governor who "conditionally" vetoed a bill that had been discussed and debated for several years, and basically replaced it with the "alternative" bill that had received no public input at all.
To say that my faith in the democratic process has been undermined would be an understatement. Yet when NJCARE recently held an organizational meeting in anticipation of a new adoptee rights bill, to be introduced shortly, I attended. In spite of all the setbacks, there are a few glimmers of hope. We have some new, sharp and energetic members. And in Ohio, in a dramatic turnaround, Ohio Right to Life and the Ohio Catholic Conference recently testified in favor of an adoptee rights bill.
Change may be unlikely, especially with Gov. Christie at the helm, but I have to believe that it is possible, even here in the state of New Jersey.
You might also like:
Ohio Right to Life Embraces Adoptee Rights
Adoption and Abortion: It's Not as Simple as Many Pro-lifers Think
Why is honesty in adoption still a controversial subject?
Why I Oppose Confidential Intermediaries
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Birthparent vetoes are compromising adoptee rights
Birthparent vetoes extending into the future seem to be the latest "compromise" that legislators are tacking onto adoptee rights bills that would give every adopted person the right to apply for and secure his or her original birth certificate (OBC). These vetoes are totally unacceptable, in my view, because they bestow upon original parents, now and forever, a legal right that they have never had.
Several years ago, I was able to hold my nose and support the NJ legislation that gave original mothers a one-year period to white-out their names, not because I thought it was the right thing to do, but because I thought the legislation, approved by healthy majorities in both the Senate and Assembly, would finally, after 30 years, get us to where we need to be. As many of you know, Gov. Chris Christie "conditionally" vetoed that bill and suggested an unjust and unwieldy confidential intermediary system instead.
Now it would be very difficult for me to support even the one-year, white-out concession, as I firmly believe that every human being has the right to know his or her own story and possess his or her own documents. I suppose it is adoption mythology and reproductive ideology that makes it so difficult for people to understand that adopted adults own themselves. Their original families don't own them, nor do their adoptive families. If their OBCs don't belong to them, who in the world do they belong to?
These permanent vetoes, which have recently been tacked onto an adoptee rights bill in Washington state, make adult OBC access a favor that can be granted only through the preferences of another, not a civil right. As most adoption reform activists know, adopted adults at one time had the same rights to secure their OBCs as any other citizen has. Their birth records were sealed gradually, throughout the mid-twentieth century, primarily to protect adoptive families from "unwarranted intrusion." Now, adoptee rights activists simply want their right of access to their own OBCs to be restored.
Many adoption reformers have written to Washington Senator Ann Rivers, who is responsible for adding the permanent birthparent veto to the pending bills that would give adopted adults the right to obtain their OBCs. I'll share two such letters here, because they so clearly show why permanent vetoes are not a step forward.
Dear Ms. Rivers,
I was disappointed to view your testimony this year 'in support' of SB 5118. Whereas you, as a leader of this state, could have spoken to equal treatment for all citizens, you chose to promote your own special interest over common sense.
This bill does not balance the rights of adoptees and birth parents. As I understand it, any birth parent born in this state who is not an adoptee is able to secure her/his own birth certificate without obstruction. Instead, the amendment to the bill allows birth parents to obstruct an adoptee's access to their own truthful birth certificate and perpetuates society's belief that adoptees who seek out their identity are ungrateful, disruptive and villains of some mythical crime that they did not commit.
I am a human being. I am not a secret. Although, as a feminist, I do have compassion for women who are treated poorly due to unexpected pregnancies, I do not take responsibility for how these same women choose to build the foundation of past or current relationships. As in any relationship, an individual takes risks by keeping secrets and/or omitting the truth. As an adoptee, I bear no responsibility for my birth mother/father's choices.
This bill should be about equal rights. Period. As a tax-paying citizen of this state, I should be treated the same as any other citizen when I interact with government employees. I should not be treated like a second-class citizen by government employees whose attitudes and actions reflect discriminatory law. If SB 5118 passes with the non-disclosure amendment, the state of Washington will continue to discriminate against a class of people who did not choose to join the group to which they belong.
Adoptees will continue to fight discrimination in Washington as well as other states in this union. We will continue to do work to promote identity discovery and development using traditional search methods, technology and emerging science (DNA doesn't lie). We will continue to tell the adoptee story and not allow those with special interests (harboring shame, promoting secrecy) to skew reality. Your attempts to put adoptees in their 'rightful place' fuel the movement. Even if one of these discriminatory bill passes, you can be sure that you have not heard the last of us.
Best regards,
Heidi
resident, taxpayer and citizen of 36th legislative district
Several years ago, I was able to hold my nose and support the NJ legislation that gave original mothers a one-year period to white-out their names, not because I thought it was the right thing to do, but because I thought the legislation, approved by healthy majorities in both the Senate and Assembly, would finally, after 30 years, get us to where we need to be. As many of you know, Gov. Chris Christie "conditionally" vetoed that bill and suggested an unjust and unwieldy confidential intermediary system instead.
Now it would be very difficult for me to support even the one-year, white-out concession, as I firmly believe that every human being has the right to know his or her own story and possess his or her own documents. I suppose it is adoption mythology and reproductive ideology that makes it so difficult for people to understand that adopted adults own themselves. Their original families don't own them, nor do their adoptive families. If their OBCs don't belong to them, who in the world do they belong to?
These permanent vetoes, which have recently been tacked onto an adoptee rights bill in Washington state, make adult OBC access a favor that can be granted only through the preferences of another, not a civil right. As most adoption reform activists know, adopted adults at one time had the same rights to secure their OBCs as any other citizen has. Their birth records were sealed gradually, throughout the mid-twentieth century, primarily to protect adoptive families from "unwarranted intrusion." Now, adoptee rights activists simply want their right of access to their own OBCs to be restored.
Many adoption reformers have written to Washington Senator Ann Rivers, who is responsible for adding the permanent birthparent veto to the pending bills that would give adopted adults the right to obtain their OBCs. I'll share two such letters here, because they so clearly show why permanent vetoes are not a step forward.
Dear Ms. Rivers,
I was disappointed to view your testimony this year 'in support' of SB 5118. Whereas you, as a leader of this state, could have spoken to equal treatment for all citizens, you chose to promote your own special interest over common sense.
This bill does not balance the rights of adoptees and birth parents. As I understand it, any birth parent born in this state who is not an adoptee is able to secure her/his own birth certificate without obstruction. Instead, the amendment to the bill allows birth parents to obstruct an adoptee's access to their own truthful birth certificate and perpetuates society's belief that adoptees who seek out their identity are ungrateful, disruptive and villains of some mythical crime that they did not commit.
I am a human being. I am not a secret. Although, as a feminist, I do have compassion for women who are treated poorly due to unexpected pregnancies, I do not take responsibility for how these same women choose to build the foundation of past or current relationships. As in any relationship, an individual takes risks by keeping secrets and/or omitting the truth. As an adoptee, I bear no responsibility for my birth mother/father's choices.
This bill should be about equal rights. Period. As a tax-paying citizen of this state, I should be treated the same as any other citizen when I interact with government employees. I should not be treated like a second-class citizen by government employees whose attitudes and actions reflect discriminatory law. If SB 5118 passes with the non-disclosure amendment, the state of Washington will continue to discriminate against a class of people who did not choose to join the group to which they belong.
Adoptees will continue to fight discrimination in Washington as well as other states in this union. We will continue to do work to promote identity discovery and development using traditional search methods, technology and emerging science (DNA doesn't lie). We will continue to tell the adoptee story and not allow those with special interests (harboring shame, promoting secrecy) to skew reality. Your attempts to put adoptees in their 'rightful place' fuel the movement. Even if one of these discriminatory bill passes, you can be sure that you have not heard the last of us.
Best regards,
Heidi
resident, taxpayer and citizen of 36th legislative district
Another eloquent letter to Ms. Rivers was penned by original mother Lorraine Dusky. I'll share some excerpts here:
Dear Senator Rivers:
I am a first mother like you, and I am horrified at the amendment you are tacking onto the bill that would give adoptees the right to their original birth certificates, for the birthparent veto continues the yoke of bondage that the sealed records instituted. This amendment gives all biological parents "privacy," if they so desire it, but in doing so flagrantly tramples the rights of others. The right to know who one is, who one was at birth, surely is an inviolate right that all individuals are given simply by being born, and the state must not be a party to infringing that right.
Consider the words of the 1980 document that experts in the then U.S. Department of Health, Education and Welfare wrote after holding hearings of adoptees, natural mothers, social workers, and adoptive parents throughout the country. Their Model Adoption Act stated:
“There can be no legally protected interest in keeping one’s identity secret from one’s biological offspring; parents and child are considered co-owners of the information regarding the event of birth….The birth parents’ interest in reputation is not alone deserving of constitutional protection.”
The times were not right then to allow this to pass. An adoptive father in the Senate, John Tower of Texas, vigorously fought against this provision and it was deleted from the final bill that passed. Yet adoptive parents elsewhere have fought just as vigorously for the right of their children to know their true heritage, such as Sen. Lou D’Alassandro in New Hampshire who got a bill though in 2004 with a contact-preference but without veto power. Today he talks about the fact that there have been no problems since passage. He did it because it was the right thing to do. Surveys of adoptive parents show that today they are overwhelmingly in favor of the children they adopted to have the right to know their original and true heritage, including the names of their parents.
Please reconsider your stand on this measure and do not let this bill pass with the toxic veto attached. That is like passing a bill against slavery, but adding a proviso letting the slave holders decide if they are willing to let their slaves go. You are so close to Oregon, and they have had no trouble--after lengthy court battles brought by a small group of Mormons--since they have allowed the free and unfettered right of the adopted to possess their own birth certificates. Remove this veto from the bill because it is the right thing to do. Do not be party to legislation that continues to enslave a small portion of adopted individuals. Come down on the right side of history. If this passes, it will be extremely difficult to revisit this issue and remove the veto. The harm done will be permanent.
I am the author of the first memoir from a woman who relinquished a child, Birthmark, published in 1979. If I can be of further assistance to you, please do not hesitate to call on me.
Sincerely,
Lorraine Dusky
My comment to Ms. Rivers reads as follows:
Please remove the birthparent veto from this bill -- a birthparent veto going forward is totally unacceptable, as it puts the adoptee's rights to own her own documents at someone else's discretion. Please give adults enough credit to manage the most personal details of their lives on their own, without state or agency interference. Like it or not, I am forever genetically linked to my original mother, and I have the right to at least ask her for information in a private and sensitive way. When I contacted my original mother by certified mail, she did not wish to meet, but we did exchange information that was beneficial for both of us. It perplexes me that legislators think one private letter or phone call is too much to ask of original parents. What about my rights as an autonomous human being, the mother of two, and the grandmother of six precious children? The courts have affirmed that original parents have no legal right to anonymity from their own offspring, and it is time for legislators to acknowledge that fact and restore the civil rights of all adopted adults.
One of the strongest letters to Washington State legislators comes from adoptee Triona Guidry, who has been a victim of the birthparent veto provision that was enacted as part of an adoptee rights bill several years ago in Illinois. What she writes makes perfect sense to me, and shows why as adoptees, we must hold out for equal treatment under the law.
Dear Washington Senators and Representatives:
I understand you are considering an adoptee rights bill, SB 5118 / HB 1525, which contains a "contact veto" clause allowing birth mothers to deny adoptees access to their original birth certificates. Before you rush to pass such a bill, I hope you will consider the inequality of restoring access to some adoptees at the expense of others.
I am an Illinois adoptee and have been denied my birth certificate because my birth mother signed the veto in this state. I am the face of that supposedly small percentage of adoptees who will be permanently denied birth certificate access under this proposed legislation.
Rep. Orwall explains the need to favor the many over the few: "How sad it would be for some adoptees to not obtain this information while a birth parent may still be alive."
What about those adoptees left behind by veto legislation? Why isn't it sad that we cannot obtain our information as well - and in fact are permanently barred from it?
What makes some adoptees more deserving than others?
I was involved in the attempts to halt a similar bill that ended up passing here in Illinois. I have heard the arguments in favor of compromise legislation before: "Well, at least this will help the majority of adoptees." The assumption is that those vetoes will be such a small percentage it won't matter.
But the reality is that no state that has ever enacted veto legislation has gone back for those left behind. There's no sunset clause, no mechanism by which these adoptees will later have their birth certificate access restored.
Rep. Orwall is worried that birth families may die before adoptees have a chance to find them. But this isn't about search and reunion. It is about access to a critical piece of identity: our original birth certificates.
With increasing security in this post 9/11 world, many adoptees are discovering that their adoption paperwork alone isn't good enough. Discrepancies in the paperwork, i's not dotted or t's not crossed, and adult adoptees suddenly find they are unable to obtain driver's licenses, passports, and other critical documents.
I had a friend walk out of the DMV because she presented her amended birth certificate. She was told to bring the original - which, being adopted in a closed-records state, she has no way to obtain.
Veto legislation consigns some adoptees to this oblivion of non-access. They have no recourse, no way to obtain proof of their own identities. They are permanently banned.
The matter of birth mother privacy is irrelevant. My birth mother relinquished all rights to me when I was given up for adoption. Why does a stranger now have the ability to come back years later and deny me access to my own birth certificate? Not every adoptee who wants a birth certificate is looking to search. Search is a matter of personal choice and has no bearing on the civil right to obtain one's documentation of birth.
The only equitable solution is to restore to ALL adoptees the same equal access to original birth certificates as non-adoptees. This has been successfully done in Maine, where everyone follows the same procedure, adopted or not. Everyone pays the same basic fee. No one is left behind.
Maine has suffered none of the dire consequences so drastically described by opponents of original birth certificate access. Adoptees in Maine can walk into the courthouse, heads held high, and be treated the same as everyone else. That is all we want. If Maine, why not Washington?
I invite you to view Maine's legislation here:
http://www.adopteerightscoalition.com/2011/07/adoptee-rights-sample-legislation.html
It's no less sad or unfair for vetoed adoptees to be denied birth certificate access than it is for those whose birth families age and die while legislation is being considered.
Because that "small percentage" so casually dismissed? Those are real people like me. We're not statistics. We exist. And we deserve the same equal rights, too.
Please vote no on SB 5118 / HB 1525.
Sincerely,
Triona Guidry
Guidry's story reminds us about the real human beings that are hurt by birthparent vetoes. In many cases, the adopted person already feels rejected once -- the veto provision ensures that some adoptees will feel rejected twice. As Guidry reminds us, this issue is not about reunions; it is about basic civil rights.
If you would like to comment about Washington's pending bills, you can reach the two legislators responsible for the birthparent veto provision here:
Ann.Rivers@leg.wa.gov
Tina.Orwall@leg.wa.gov
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Thursday, April 4, 2013
ACLU Continues to Ignore the Facts and Discriminate Against Adult Adoptees
Just when I thought we might be making a bit of progress in lobbying for adoptee rights in New Jersey, I received an infuriating letter from ACLU-NJ "Intake Manager" A. Herrarte. Mr. or Ms. Herrarte was responding to a letter I had sent newly-appointed ACLU-NJ Executive Director Udi Ofer, along with a well-researched article that deconstructs the ACLU's misguided stance on adoptee rights.
I have to wonder as I read the response whether Herrarte or Mr. Ofer even read the article, as Herrarte's letter contains the same canned statements ACLU-NJ has been spouting for years. What is truly infuriating is that the ACLU position is predicated on a downright lie -- that birth parents had "a legal right to confidentiality when they placed their children for adoption." Does the ACLU not acknowledge court precedents? Apparently not. Both the Oregon State Court of Appeals in 1999, and the U.S. Court of Appeals (6th Circuit) in 1997 have ruled that no such legal right exists. Since the birth parent privacy argument has been refuted legally, there have been no court challenges to any original birth certificate access law.
It is one thing when an entity like the ACLU misinterprets the facts; it is another when it willfully ignores the facts. Whatever the ACLU agenda is on this issue -- adoption reform groups in Washington State have encountered the same frustration from its ACLU chapter -- it does not include a desire to understand or even acknowledge the facts. How sad for a group that insists its mission is to value the liberty of every individual.
I'll share here Herrarte's letter, then respond with a few thoughts of my own:
Dear Ms. Perry:
Thank you for contacting the American Civil Liberties Union of New Jersey regarding adoption records.
We sympathize with those who seek access to adoption records and recognize that the dilemma involves competing rights.
For this reason, the ACLU-NJ supports systems that reunite people separated through adoption who mutually consent to contact such as "search and consent" services that provide an intermediary to locate and contact birth parents in a confidential manner and request the release of their names.
The ACLU-NJ opposes legislation that provides for the release of the names or contact information of birth parents without their consent.
Our position is based on privacy and due process concerns relating to the release of the names of birth parents who had a legal right to confidentiality when they placed their children for adoption. We oppose revoking this right after the fact, particularly considering that some women hinged their decisions to place a child for adoption on the fact that it would remain private.
Thank you again for contacting us.
Sincerely,
A. Herrarte
Intake Manager
Upon reading this letter, I have to ask, "Where in the world is ACLU-NJ getting its information on this issue?" Adoptee rights bills are not about reunion; they are about equal rights. Some adoptees search, some don't, but every adopted adult should be able to secure the document that records his or her own birth, just like any other American citizen. It is unjust to treat an entire class of people differently than we treat everyone else.
The ACLU also continues to insist that "the dilemma involves competing rights." As adoptee Julie Kelly explains, "It's not about competing rights. It's our rights vs. someone else's possible preference. Rights triumph over preferences. The overwhelming majority of mothers (and the rest of our families) are on our side. They are not in competition with us.
Adoptees are not seeking anything extra that everyone else does not already have for themselves. To make everyone equal, we are demanding restored access to our OBC's -- the same right our mothers have. The same right that all non-adopted citizens have. This is what will make us equal to everyone else. Making separate laws for us makes us different, unequal, and inferior. ACLU of all organizations should understand that."
The ACLU also conveniently ignores the history and intent of sealed records. Elizabeth Samuels, a law professor at the University of Baltimore School of Law, has been researching adoption law since the 1990s, and has written extensively about the issue. In testimony before the Ohio Legislature last month, she explained that records were closed gradually throughout the mid-twentieth century "to protect adoptive families from possible interference or harassment by birth parents, not to protect birth parents' privacy."
In many adoptions, Samuels said, the adoptive parents received copies of documents with identifying information about the birth mother. Every state always had a legal mechanism by which records could be opened "for good cause," she said, and "the laws sealing court and birth records have never guaranteed lifelong anonymity for birth parents."
Samuels has analyzed 77 surrrender documents signed by original mothers from the late 1930s through 1990, and concludes that none of the mothers were promised either confidentiality or lifelong anonymity. Many, however, did have to promise that they would not seek information about the child or interfere with the adoptive family.
When an original mother surrendered her child, said Samuels, she was surrendering all of her parental rights and was relieved of her parental obligations. She did "not retain or acquire any rights." In short, secrecy was not offered to the relinquishing mother -- it was required as a condition of the adoption. And as we now know from open access states, overwhelmingly large majorites of relinquishing mothers -- "up to 95 percent," according to Samuels -- are open to contact.
Yet in the face of all those facts, the ACLU continues to insist that this issue is all about "competing interests" and "the right to privacy under the US and NJ constitutions." "I would challenge the ACLU to provide legal evidence of this right to privacy," says adoptee Julie Gretchen Martel. "Obviously, such evidence does not exist."
"I am really sick of being told that my birth parents had/have a legal right to privacy," says Martel. "In Connecticut, OBCs were sealed in 1974, three years after I was born and adopted. At the time of my adoption, my birth parents had no expectation of their identities being kept from me. So please stop telling me otherwise."
For more facts that refute the ACLU position, we can look to the 1999 decision by the Oregon State Court of Appeals. The state may release original birth certificates to adoptees, it concluded, "without infringing on any fundamental right to privacy of the birthmother who does not desire contact with the child."
"Although adoption is an option that generally is available to women faced with the dilemma of an unwanted pregnancy," the court concluded, "it is not a fundamental right. Because a birth mother has no fundamental right to have her child adopted, she also can have no correlative fundamental right to have her child adopted under circumstances that guarantee that her identity will not be revealed to the child."
If that decision isn't clear enough, the U.S. Court of Appeals (6th Circuit) said this in 1997, when a group petitioned the courts in Tennessee to overturn the law that would grant some adult adoptees access to their 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 clearly, according to court precedents, there is no constitutional right to privacy for original parents, yet ACLU-NJ continues to insist that there is. The ACLU's opposition to adult adoptee access is also difficult to understand in light of ACLU national's views on the management of government data.
In its Policy #272 on Government Data Collection, Storage and Dissemination, ACLU states that "personal information should not be collected from individuals without their informed consent." What adopted individual has ever given her permission to have her true and legitimate birth certificate amended by the state and then sealed for all time?
Later, the ACLU policy paper reads: "The ability of an individual to exercise control over the collection, maintenance, and use by the government of his or her sensitive personal information is central to personal integrity and human dignity."
A final example demonstrating the inconsistencies in ACLU's position towards adoptee rights can be found in this ACLU statement: "All persons should have equal rights of access to information maintained by public agencies. The identity or status of the party requesting disclosure should not affect the decisions as to what information is actually disclosed."
Given the facts, it is simply impossible to understand the logic of ACLU-NJ's position. After reading Herrarte's letter, adoptee Gaye Tannenbaum had other thoughtful questions to ask:
"How does the ACLU propose to deal with the many situations where one or both parents have already passed away? They can't give their 'consent.' Is the adoptee forever barred from knowing his or her name?"
"The ACLU frames the issue as one of 'reproductive choice.' Would they support making 'open' adoption enforceable in New Jersey? Would they go to bat for the many women who were promised an 'open' adoption that was subsequently and unilaterally closed? Why are the records sealed in an 'open' adoption?"
"Since the classic definition of 'right to privacy' is the right to be free from government interference, doesn't a 'search and consent' program violate that right by allowing a state functionary to track down and make contact with a party who was 'promised' privacy?"
"Does the ACLU have a problem with adoptees conducting a search on their own -- including the use of DNA testing, social media, genealogy sites, and other public information?"
Like Samuel's testimomy, the court decisions, and the ACLU's own policy about data storage and access, Tannenbaum's questions reveal the absurdity of the ACLU-NJ stance. Perhaps they haven't heard yet that both Ohio Right to Life and NARAL Pro-Choice Ohio recently testified in favor of an adoptee rights bill in their state.
Stephanie Krider of Ohio Right to Life testified before Ohio's House Judiciary Committee: "It is our belief that supporting (this bill) ... would not be a disservice to birth mothers who have placed their child for adoption. Legal guarantees could never have been made to these mothers to ensure their children would never have access to their original birth certificate."
Jamie Miracle of NARAL Pro-Choice Ohio similarly testified in favor of the bill: While allowing adoptees to access "important family medical information," she explained, the bill also works to protect the privacy of birth parents by allowing them to express their preference for or against being contacted by the adult adoptee.
"This system will, in fact, better protect the privacy of birth parents by creating a system where they can express their preferences for being contacted, which currently does not exist."
If both an anti-abortion and a pro-choice group can come together to support an adoptee rights bill in Ohio, how can ACLU-NJ continue to insist that relinquishing mothers have a non-existent legal right to privacy as part of their reproductive decision-making? If you are as confused by their thought process as I am, please register your displeasure by contacting them at Post Office Box 32159, Newark, NJ 07102; 973-642-2084; http://www.aclu-nj.org. The new executive director is Udi Ofer, but don't be surprised if your response comes from "Intake Manager" A. Herrarte.
You might also like:
An Open Letter to Executive Director Udi Ofer at ACLU-NJ
ACLU-NJ Misses the Mark on Adoption
Why do State Bar Associations Oppose Adoptee Rights?
Adoptee Rights and a Woman's Reproductive Choices
In many adoptions, Samuels said, the adoptive parents received copies of documents with identifying information about the birth mother. Every state always had a legal mechanism by which records could be opened "for good cause," she said, and "the laws sealing court and birth records have never guaranteed lifelong anonymity for birth parents."
Samuels has analyzed 77 surrrender documents signed by original mothers from the late 1930s through 1990, and concludes that none of the mothers were promised either confidentiality or lifelong anonymity. Many, however, did have to promise that they would not seek information about the child or interfere with the adoptive family.
When an original mother surrendered her child, said Samuels, she was surrendering all of her parental rights and was relieved of her parental obligations. She did "not retain or acquire any rights." In short, secrecy was not offered to the relinquishing mother -- it was required as a condition of the adoption. And as we now know from open access states, overwhelmingly large majorites of relinquishing mothers -- "up to 95 percent," according to Samuels -- are open to contact.
Yet in the face of all those facts, the ACLU continues to insist that this issue is all about "competing interests" and "the right to privacy under the US and NJ constitutions." "I would challenge the ACLU to provide legal evidence of this right to privacy," says adoptee Julie Gretchen Martel. "Obviously, such evidence does not exist."
"I am really sick of being told that my birth parents had/have a legal right to privacy," says Martel. "In Connecticut, OBCs were sealed in 1974, three years after I was born and adopted. At the time of my adoption, my birth parents had no expectation of their identities being kept from me. So please stop telling me otherwise."
For more facts that refute the ACLU position, we can look to the 1999 decision by the Oregon State Court of Appeals. The state may release original birth certificates to adoptees, it concluded, "without infringing on any fundamental right to privacy of the birthmother who does not desire contact with the child."
"Although adoption is an option that generally is available to women faced with the dilemma of an unwanted pregnancy," the court concluded, "it is not a fundamental right. Because a birth mother has no fundamental right to have her child adopted, she also can have no correlative fundamental right to have her child adopted under circumstances that guarantee that her identity will not be revealed to the child."
If that decision isn't clear enough, the U.S. Court of Appeals (6th Circuit) said this in 1997, when a group petitioned the courts in Tennessee to overturn the law that would grant some adult adoptees access to their 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 clearly, according to court precedents, there is no constitutional right to privacy for original parents, yet ACLU-NJ continues to insist that there is. The ACLU's opposition to adult adoptee access is also difficult to understand in light of ACLU national's views on the management of government data.
In its Policy #272 on Government Data Collection, Storage and Dissemination, ACLU states that "personal information should not be collected from individuals without their informed consent." What adopted individual has ever given her permission to have her true and legitimate birth certificate amended by the state and then sealed for all time?
Later, the ACLU policy paper reads: "The ability of an individual to exercise control over the collection, maintenance, and use by the government of his or her sensitive personal information is central to personal integrity and human dignity."
A final example demonstrating the inconsistencies in ACLU's position towards adoptee rights can be found in this ACLU statement: "All persons should have equal rights of access to information maintained by public agencies. The identity or status of the party requesting disclosure should not affect the decisions as to what information is actually disclosed."
Given the facts, it is simply impossible to understand the logic of ACLU-NJ's position. After reading Herrarte's letter, adoptee Gaye Tannenbaum had other thoughtful questions to ask:
"How does the ACLU propose to deal with the many situations where one or both parents have already passed away? They can't give their 'consent.' Is the adoptee forever barred from knowing his or her name?"
"The ACLU frames the issue as one of 'reproductive choice.' Would they support making 'open' adoption enforceable in New Jersey? Would they go to bat for the many women who were promised an 'open' adoption that was subsequently and unilaterally closed? Why are the records sealed in an 'open' adoption?"
"Since the classic definition of 'right to privacy' is the right to be free from government interference, doesn't a 'search and consent' program violate that right by allowing a state functionary to track down and make contact with a party who was 'promised' privacy?"
"Does the ACLU have a problem with adoptees conducting a search on their own -- including the use of DNA testing, social media, genealogy sites, and other public information?"
Like Samuel's testimomy, the court decisions, and the ACLU's own policy about data storage and access, Tannenbaum's questions reveal the absurdity of the ACLU-NJ stance. Perhaps they haven't heard yet that both Ohio Right to Life and NARAL Pro-Choice Ohio recently testified in favor of an adoptee rights bill in their state.
Stephanie Krider of Ohio Right to Life testified before Ohio's House Judiciary Committee: "It is our belief that supporting (this bill) ... would not be a disservice to birth mothers who have placed their child for adoption. Legal guarantees could never have been made to these mothers to ensure their children would never have access to their original birth certificate."
Jamie Miracle of NARAL Pro-Choice Ohio similarly testified in favor of the bill: While allowing adoptees to access "important family medical information," she explained, the bill also works to protect the privacy of birth parents by allowing them to express their preference for or against being contacted by the adult adoptee.
"This system will, in fact, better protect the privacy of birth parents by creating a system where they can express their preferences for being contacted, which currently does not exist."
If both an anti-abortion and a pro-choice group can come together to support an adoptee rights bill in Ohio, how can ACLU-NJ continue to insist that relinquishing mothers have a non-existent legal right to privacy as part of their reproductive decision-making? If you are as confused by their thought process as I am, please register your displeasure by contacting them at Post Office Box 32159, Newark, NJ 07102; 973-642-2084; http://www.aclu-nj.org. The new executive director is Udi Ofer, but don't be surprised if your response comes from "Intake Manager" A. Herrarte.
You might also like:
An Open Letter to Executive Director Udi Ofer at ACLU-NJ
ACLU-NJ Misses the Mark on Adoption
Why do State Bar Associations Oppose Adoptee Rights?
Adoptee Rights and a Woman's Reproductive Choices
Thursday, March 14, 2013
An Open Letter to Executive Director Udi Ofer at ACLU-NJ
Many of us in the adoption reform movement are encouraged by the fact that both Ohio Right to Life and the Catholic Conference of Ohio, both long-time opponents of adoptee rights bills, have now endorsed pending adoptee rights legislation. Apparently, both groups have come to realize that granting adopted adults access to their original birth certificates and treating them equally by law to the non-adopted has no effect on abortion rates. They have also come to see that such bills allow original parents an opportunity to register their preferences for contact, an opportunity that they currently do not have. These bills restore the civil right of adopted adults to access their own birth documents, while acknowledging the boundaries that original parents might prefer. They are the best and fairest antidote to the considerable pain and to the violation of adoptee civil rights that the sealed record system perpetuates.
We hope that Right to Life and Catholic Conference chapters in other states will take note, and that they too will come to see that granting civil rights to adoptees does not weaken, but in fact strengthens the institution of adoption. Catholic bishops and Right to Life groups have been a formidable obstacle to adoptee rights in the past; unfortunately, so have some state chapters of the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU). In New Jersey, we have battled the ACLU for years. In the past, the organization's leadership seemed to think that denying civil rights to a grown adoptee is acceptable because doing so enables a woman to make private reproductive choices.
The ACLU stance is logically inconsistent with its mission statement, and we are hoping that with new leadership in New Jersey, it will reevaluate its position on this issue. After all, if Ohio Right to Life and the Catholic Conference of Ohio can admit that they have been mistaken about adoptee rights, so can ACLU-NJ! Here is my open letter to Mr. Udi Ofer, the new executive director of ACLU-NJ:
Dear Mr. Ofer:
I am a member of the legislative team at New Jersey Coalition for Adoption Reform and Education (NJCARE), and I am writing to express my strong opinion that ACLU-NJ has been on the wrong side of history when it comes to restoring the right of adopted adults to access their original birth certificates.
The states of Oregon and Alabama restored this right in 2000, and in the past decade, the states of Maine, New Hampshire and Rhode Island have likewise restored this right. The states of Kansas and Alaska never sealed original birth certificates from adoptees, and Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York and Washington all have pending bills.
At its very core, this is a civil rights issue, because adopted adults continue to be treated differently by law in New Jersey than every other American citizen. That is institutional discrimination, and it continues to exist for no good reason. If the document that records my own birth does not belong to me, we might ask, “Who does it belong to?”
The history of adoption reveals that records were never sealed to protect original families, but to protect the adoptee from the “stigma of illegitimacy,” and the adoptive family from “unwarranted intrusion.” Even the courts have ruled that original parents could never have been granted legal anonymity from their own offspring.
Adoptee rights legislation is about civil rights; it is not about reunions. There is a profound difference between knowledge about one’s own history and relationship. Obviously, it takes two to agree to have a relationship, and how two adults decide to conduct their own very personal affairs is frankly no one’s business except for their own.
ACLU-NJ in the past has shown a shocking disregard for the rights of adopted people, and it has wrongly assumed that the rights of original parents and adoptees conflict. Adoptee rights bills are just and effective, and the data from open access states and from those countries that are far ahead of us in restoring adoptee rights is easily accessible.
I implore you to study the facts before the ACLU takes a position on any pending adoption legislation in New Jersey. I am including for you an article published this year at numerous adoption reform sites that outlines how illogical the ACLU’s position has been. I write in the hope that you will study it with an open mind.
I and other members of NJCARE would be happy to meet with you to discuss this issue at any time. Please feel free to contact me at the number below.
Sincerely,
Susan T. Perry
Member, Legislative Team
New Jersey Coalition for Adoption Reform and Education (NJCARE)
To those of you reading this blog post, you can read my article about the inconsistencies in ACLU-NJ's position on adoptee rights here. Please feel free to use any or all of it in your own lobbying efforts. Let's carry on with renewed effort. Progress is slow, but the facts are on our side!
You might also like:
Why do State Bar Associations Oppose Adoptee Rights?
The Ethics of Adoption and Reproductive Technology
Adoptee Rights and a Woman's Reproductive Choices
We hope that Right to Life and Catholic Conference chapters in other states will take note, and that they too will come to see that granting civil rights to adoptees does not weaken, but in fact strengthens the institution of adoption. Catholic bishops and Right to Life groups have been a formidable obstacle to adoptee rights in the past; unfortunately, so have some state chapters of the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU). In New Jersey, we have battled the ACLU for years. In the past, the organization's leadership seemed to think that denying civil rights to a grown adoptee is acceptable because doing so enables a woman to make private reproductive choices.
The ACLU stance is logically inconsistent with its mission statement, and we are hoping that with new leadership in New Jersey, it will reevaluate its position on this issue. After all, if Ohio Right to Life and the Catholic Conference of Ohio can admit that they have been mistaken about adoptee rights, so can ACLU-NJ! Here is my open letter to Mr. Udi Ofer, the new executive director of ACLU-NJ:
Dear Mr. Ofer:
I am a member of the legislative team at New Jersey Coalition for Adoption Reform and Education (NJCARE), and I am writing to express my strong opinion that ACLU-NJ has been on the wrong side of history when it comes to restoring the right of adopted adults to access their original birth certificates.
The states of Oregon and Alabama restored this right in 2000, and in the past decade, the states of Maine, New Hampshire and Rhode Island have likewise restored this right. The states of Kansas and Alaska never sealed original birth certificates from adoptees, and Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York and Washington all have pending bills.
At its very core, this is a civil rights issue, because adopted adults continue to be treated differently by law in New Jersey than every other American citizen. That is institutional discrimination, and it continues to exist for no good reason. If the document that records my own birth does not belong to me, we might ask, “Who does it belong to?”
The history of adoption reveals that records were never sealed to protect original families, but to protect the adoptee from the “stigma of illegitimacy,” and the adoptive family from “unwarranted intrusion.” Even the courts have ruled that original parents could never have been granted legal anonymity from their own offspring.
Adoptee rights legislation is about civil rights; it is not about reunions. There is a profound difference between knowledge about one’s own history and relationship. Obviously, it takes two to agree to have a relationship, and how two adults decide to conduct their own very personal affairs is frankly no one’s business except for their own.
ACLU-NJ in the past has shown a shocking disregard for the rights of adopted people, and it has wrongly assumed that the rights of original parents and adoptees conflict. Adoptee rights bills are just and effective, and the data from open access states and from those countries that are far ahead of us in restoring adoptee rights is easily accessible.
I implore you to study the facts before the ACLU takes a position on any pending adoption legislation in New Jersey. I am including for you an article published this year at numerous adoption reform sites that outlines how illogical the ACLU’s position has been. I write in the hope that you will study it with an open mind.
I and other members of NJCARE would be happy to meet with you to discuss this issue at any time. Please feel free to contact me at the number below.
Sincerely,
Susan T. Perry
Member, Legislative Team
New Jersey Coalition for Adoption Reform and Education (NJCARE)
To those of you reading this blog post, you can read my article about the inconsistencies in ACLU-NJ's position on adoptee rights here. Please feel free to use any or all of it in your own lobbying efforts. Let's carry on with renewed effort. Progress is slow, but the facts are on our side!
You might also like:
Why do State Bar Associations Oppose Adoptee Rights?
The Ethics of Adoption and Reproductive Technology
Adoptee Rights and a Woman's Reproductive Choices
Monday, March 11, 2013
Ohio Right to Life Embraces Adoptee Rights
My husband and I have just returned from three glorious days of skiing in Vermont with two of our granddaughters. For us, it was like history revisited, since Vermont's Sugarbush is where we introduced our two daughters to big mountain skiing many years ago. Genevieve, on the right, looks just like her mother, and Grace, on the left, acts just like my older daughter did -- protective of her little sister as they looked for hidden trails and little jumps together. My time on our I-Pad was limited, since Grace had downloaded about 30 games for the long car ride up, but I did check up on the news occasionally.
How encouraged I was to see that Ohio Right to Life (ORTL), in a dramatic turn-around, had actually testified in favor of an adoptee rights bill that would allow adopted adults to secure their original birth certificates (OBCs) just like any other citizen. For years, influential Right to Life groups have testified in opposition to such bills, fearful that they would discourage adoption and perhaps increase abortion rates. Finally, Ohio Right to Life has come to understand the facts -- that treating adopted adults equally under the law will not encourage women to choose abortion over adoption.
Here's what Stephanie Krider of ORTL told Ohio's House Judiciary Committee in support of the bill that would permit people who had been adopted in Ohio between 1964 and 1996 to secure their OBCs: ..."for faulty reasons for decades, Ohio Right to Life opposed opening adoption records to adoptees born/adopted between 1964 and 1996" because they believed birth mothers had been guaranteed rights of confidentiality and the measure would protect adoptees from potential embarrassment about the circumstances of their birth or from unwanted contact from birth parents.
"Frankly, these are outdated concerns. ..."
She went on to explain that "cultural values have changed" and that being an adoptive parent or relinquishing a child for adoption no longer carry the stigma they once did.
"It is our belief that supporting (this bill) ... would not be a disservice to birth mothers who have placed their child for adoption. Legal guarantees could never have been made to these mothers to ensure their children would never have access to their original birth certificate.
Krider also emphasized that Ohio Right to Life encourages adoption instead of abortion for women who may be facing an unwanted pregnancy. "If we had any reservations about this bill and the effect it would have on chances of women choosing abortion over adoption," she said, " I would not be standing before you in support of the measure today."
Like Krider, Jaime Miracle of NARAL Pro-Choice Ohio, also testified in favor of the bill. While allowing adoptees to access "important family medical information," she explained, the bill also works to protect the privacy of birth parents by allowing them to express their desire for or against being contacted by the adult adoptee.
"This system will, in fact, better protect the privacy of birth parents by creating a system where they can express their preferences for being contacted, which currently does not exist."
Both Krider and Miracle have expressed the truths here that adoptee rights activists have been presenting for years. Allowing adopted adults to secure their OBCs does not discourage adoption, and it does not encourage abortion. Statistics from the states and countries that have opened up access prove that this is so. Original mothers were never guaranteed confidentiality from their own offspring, as every state always had some mechanism by which the records could be opened. Adopted people find their original families every day, using social networks, and often information from their own adoption decrees. Without adoptee rights bills, original parents have no way to indicate their desires -- whether they are open to contact, they would prefer not to be contacted, or they would prefer to be contacted through an intermediary. Most adoptee rights bills, like the one proposed in Ohio, give the original parents the opportunity to express their preferences.
Data from open access states indicates that the vast majority of relinquishing parents are open to contact. What a breakthrough that Ohio Right to Life has finally come to recognize this reality. We can only hope that other Right to Life chapters will follow suit. The way to promote adoption is not to deny equal rights to adopted people; it is to treat adopted people with the same respect that we afford everyone else.
You might also like:
Adoption and Abortion: It's Not as Simple as Many Pro-lifers Think
Adoption Reform and Political Games
Adoptive Parents and Pro-lifers who Cannot or Will Not See the Realities of Adoption
You might also like:
Adoption and Abortion: It's Not as Simple as Many Pro-lifers Think
Adoption Reform and Political Games
Adoptive Parents and Pro-lifers who Cannot or Will Not See the Realities of Adoption
Friday, March 1, 2013
Lifetime Secrets and Their Effect on the Adoptee
As an older adopted person, I've come to terms with the fact that there are many things about my background I'll probably never know. While I've had a sweet, but brief conversation with my first mother by phone, I've never laid eyes on her, and she did not wish to meet face to face. I don't know the name of my original father, although social workers at the agency that placed me in 1950 do. My first mother said that she couldn't tell me anything about him "because he was a married man." As a woman in her eighties, this was still her thinking, I suppose, that she did something terribly wrong by becoming entangled in an improper relationship.
My understanding from my "non-identifying information" is that my first father was a family friend from Denmark -- both my original parents are Danish -- who was separated from his wife at the time of his relationship with my first mother. My original mother, I am told, hoped for a long-term commitment; my original father, quite a bit older at the time of my conception -- age 53 -- was apparently unwilling to commit.
There was some talk, I'm told by an agency social worker, of me going to live with my first father's son and wife before I was placed for adoption. I still have no idea where I was during the first three months of my life, or who cared for me during that time. I realize that I know a lot more than some adopted people do. I know my ancestry, I know my first father lived into his eighties, and that my first mother is still alive at the age of 89. I know I have a half-sister five years older than I am, and at some point, I'll probably contact her.
I believe that I have all the information about my first mother that I am going to get from her -- she made it clear that she did not wish to talk again. She was able to tell me in that brief phone conversation that "she loved me in her heart," but she has lived her entire life not acknowledging my existence to anyone else except for her own mother.
It irritates me no end that I can't learn more about my first father, as he sounds very interesting. He was raised in Denmark, trained as a pilot, and loved the outdoor life, just as I always have. He is long deceased, as is his son, so just what risk there would be in the agency releasing his name to me is hard to understand. And that is the injustice and the ludicrous nature of sealed record laws -- in this case, they afford more rights to the dead than they do to the living, and they bind the adopted person to a lifetime restraining order in which he or she had no voice.
Although the sealed record system encourages denial as a standard coping mechanism, I think both my first mother and my adoptive mother were just starting to understand the complexities and the hidden nature of adoption as they both approached their old age. My first mother picked up the phone and called me after we had exchanged letters and medical information, I believe, because she came to realize that in protecting her own secret and rejecting my offer to meet, she was hurting me at a core and primal level. She wasn't able to open up completely, but she was able to say "I love you," and I appreciate the fact that she was at least able to reach out a little. She relinquished, after all, in a very different era from the open society in which we now live.
And while my adoptive mother didn't like to think about the fact that I had an original family, she did say to me as she grew older, "If you ever want to know more, the files are right there in that drawer." She herself knew nothing about sealed records, and my adoption decree included my original birth name. My mother only knew that adoption had worked extremely well for her -- it had given her the family she so badly wanted -- but she felt deep inside, I think, that there was an underlying, hidden aspect. She just didn't want to go there.
One thing I do know for sure is that my adoptive parents truly did love me, and that love and support has helped to make me the person I am today. My genes have helped to make me that person as well, of course, and it is only natural from my perspective that I should want to know more about the people who passed them on to me. I am motivated to write about adoption issues because I believe strongly that sealed records are unjust, and that they are truly damaging to many, many people. They encourage unhealthy thinking, repression, and denial as the means for coping with life.
Sealed records were the reason in my case, I think, that it took me too long to grow up and assume total responsibility for my own life. In a way, sealed records imprisoned me, because I didn't feel free to express my innermost feelings about adoption. Although I seemed to be successful in my personal and professional life -- I did well in school, earned graduate degrees, married happily, had children, and worked as a teacher and public relations professional -- I did not feel empowered to take charge of my own story until I was well into my forties.
Every adopted person's journey is unique, of course, but I know that my story is not atypical. I just cannot understand why, as a culture, we would continue to shackle adopted people to an institution that is governed by such archaic and repressive laws, when the data tells us clearly that most first mothers are open to contact. Those who are not, like my original mother, can simply say no. This is an emotional subject for sure, but all of us affected are adults now-- we do not need outside agents supervising our own, very personal business.
The repressive laws set the tone for the either-or thinking we often see in on-line responses to adoption articles. The kind of thinking that assumes those adoptees who search are expressing disloyalty to their adoptive parents, or that the adoptee should just "be grateful" and move on. These attitudes are really very hurtful and dismissive of many adopted people's experiences, when the reality, obviously, is that an adoptee does have two sets of parents, and like every other human being, is a unique mix of her DNA and her upbringing.
Telling adoptees that they are not entitled by law to access their own original birth certificates is belittling and unfair, when every other American citizen can apply for and secure hers for a nominal fee. It is institutional discrimination, and it exists for no good reason, as we have plenty of evidence to show that adoptee rights bills work for the benefit of the greatest number of people.
I do not know whether these essays I post are making a difference or not, but I feel compelled to share my experience. If I don't, as an older adopted person, who will? It is probably too late for me to learn much more about my personal history, but it's not too late for many others. I write in the hopes that my voice, along with so many others, can play some small part in advancing the cause of adoptee rights, so that other human beings affected by the sealed record era will not be made to feel guilty just for attempting to discover the truth about their own lives.
You might also like:
Adoptee Rights, DNA, and the Opposition
An Open Letter to Adoptive Parents
Sealed Records are Wrong. Period
Why does America lag behind on adoptee rights?
My understanding from my "non-identifying information" is that my first father was a family friend from Denmark -- both my original parents are Danish -- who was separated from his wife at the time of his relationship with my first mother. My original mother, I am told, hoped for a long-term commitment; my original father, quite a bit older at the time of my conception -- age 53 -- was apparently unwilling to commit.
There was some talk, I'm told by an agency social worker, of me going to live with my first father's son and wife before I was placed for adoption. I still have no idea where I was during the first three months of my life, or who cared for me during that time. I realize that I know a lot more than some adopted people do. I know my ancestry, I know my first father lived into his eighties, and that my first mother is still alive at the age of 89. I know I have a half-sister five years older than I am, and at some point, I'll probably contact her.
I believe that I have all the information about my first mother that I am going to get from her -- she made it clear that she did not wish to talk again. She was able to tell me in that brief phone conversation that "she loved me in her heart," but she has lived her entire life not acknowledging my existence to anyone else except for her own mother.
It irritates me no end that I can't learn more about my first father, as he sounds very interesting. He was raised in Denmark, trained as a pilot, and loved the outdoor life, just as I always have. He is long deceased, as is his son, so just what risk there would be in the agency releasing his name to me is hard to understand. And that is the injustice and the ludicrous nature of sealed record laws -- in this case, they afford more rights to the dead than they do to the living, and they bind the adopted person to a lifetime restraining order in which he or she had no voice.
Although the sealed record system encourages denial as a standard coping mechanism, I think both my first mother and my adoptive mother were just starting to understand the complexities and the hidden nature of adoption as they both approached their old age. My first mother picked up the phone and called me after we had exchanged letters and medical information, I believe, because she came to realize that in protecting her own secret and rejecting my offer to meet, she was hurting me at a core and primal level. She wasn't able to open up completely, but she was able to say "I love you," and I appreciate the fact that she was at least able to reach out a little. She relinquished, after all, in a very different era from the open society in which we now live.
And while my adoptive mother didn't like to think about the fact that I had an original family, she did say to me as she grew older, "If you ever want to know more, the files are right there in that drawer." She herself knew nothing about sealed records, and my adoption decree included my original birth name. My mother only knew that adoption had worked extremely well for her -- it had given her the family she so badly wanted -- but she felt deep inside, I think, that there was an underlying, hidden aspect. She just didn't want to go there.
One thing I do know for sure is that my adoptive parents truly did love me, and that love and support has helped to make me the person I am today. My genes have helped to make me that person as well, of course, and it is only natural from my perspective that I should want to know more about the people who passed them on to me. I am motivated to write about adoption issues because I believe strongly that sealed records are unjust, and that they are truly damaging to many, many people. They encourage unhealthy thinking, repression, and denial as the means for coping with life.
Sealed records were the reason in my case, I think, that it took me too long to grow up and assume total responsibility for my own life. In a way, sealed records imprisoned me, because I didn't feel free to express my innermost feelings about adoption. Although I seemed to be successful in my personal and professional life -- I did well in school, earned graduate degrees, married happily, had children, and worked as a teacher and public relations professional -- I did not feel empowered to take charge of my own story until I was well into my forties.
Every adopted person's journey is unique, of course, but I know that my story is not atypical. I just cannot understand why, as a culture, we would continue to shackle adopted people to an institution that is governed by such archaic and repressive laws, when the data tells us clearly that most first mothers are open to contact. Those who are not, like my original mother, can simply say no. This is an emotional subject for sure, but all of us affected are adults now-- we do not need outside agents supervising our own, very personal business.
The repressive laws set the tone for the either-or thinking we often see in on-line responses to adoption articles. The kind of thinking that assumes those adoptees who search are expressing disloyalty to their adoptive parents, or that the adoptee should just "be grateful" and move on. These attitudes are really very hurtful and dismissive of many adopted people's experiences, when the reality, obviously, is that an adoptee does have two sets of parents, and like every other human being, is a unique mix of her DNA and her upbringing.
Telling adoptees that they are not entitled by law to access their own original birth certificates is belittling and unfair, when every other American citizen can apply for and secure hers for a nominal fee. It is institutional discrimination, and it exists for no good reason, as we have plenty of evidence to show that adoptee rights bills work for the benefit of the greatest number of people.
I do not know whether these essays I post are making a difference or not, but I feel compelled to share my experience. If I don't, as an older adopted person, who will? It is probably too late for me to learn much more about my personal history, but it's not too late for many others. I write in the hopes that my voice, along with so many others, can play some small part in advancing the cause of adoptee rights, so that other human beings affected by the sealed record era will not be made to feel guilty just for attempting to discover the truth about their own lives.
You might also like:
Adoptee Rights, DNA, and the Opposition
An Open Letter to Adoptive Parents
Sealed Records are Wrong. Period
Why does America lag behind on adoptee rights?
Sunday, February 24, 2013
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?
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?
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