I have been extremely moved over
the past week by posts Jan Logie has been putting up via FB with regards to the
forced removal of children under the 1955 Adoption Law between the late 50s and
80’s and the trauma birth-mothers experienced.
Minister for Children Anne Tolley has said she will not be holding an
inquiry as there is no proof that the practice of coercive adoption was
endorsed by the government at the time. In 1997 the then social welfare
department, a branch of the government, officially acknowledged
that coercive adoptions occurred for more than 30 years. They however shelved any opportunity to hold
an inquiry arguing it would not necessarily help those hurt
by past practices. in 2013 our Australian counterparts made an official
apology on behalf of the Australian people, for the policies and practices that
forced the separation of mothers from their babies. Gillard told the audience that these practices
“…created a lifelong legacy of pain and suffering"
I was born in 1960, in the height
of the sexual revolution. Whilst the
rest of the world was leaving the stodgy conservativism of the 50s in their
wake, the majority of New Zealanders were getting on with business; working and
raising families. Looking back at how
parents raised their children most of us would cringe at their reliance on
punishment. Scolding, shouting, and smacking
were considered as necessary and any thought of rewarding and or praising children
was tantamount sparing the rod spoiling the child.
Concomitantly women were
experiencing a boom, with increases in job opportunities and for some chance to
attend university; life was good. However
for those who found their new found freedom leading to a pregnancy, life was
less rewarding. Prior to the 1940s, it
was believed that making mothers who fell pregnant (something I have never
understood – the whole falling pregnant concept) keeping the illegitimate child
was a fitting ‘…punishment for the mother’s sin and a warning to others’. In the 1950s New Zealand’s welfare state focused
on supporting married couples with young children. Single, mothers were left to struggle
financially and would often have any benefits they may receive withheld leaving
them to rely on highly religious welfare organisations. The 1955 Adoption Act produced a new regime
of thought based on a complete break ideology.
The complete break and secrecy shaped our adoption policy for 30 years.”
Women were coerced into giving their child away. Birth-mothers and their adopted children were
then to have no contact, ever. Through
government policy “…a wall of secrecy was placed between the adoptee and their
origins. This was sanctioned via a bilateral partnership between
governments and church and buttressed by a patriarchal view of women as second-class
citizens and ‘fallen-women’ as unfit. The
government, a bastion of maleness (I wonder how many illegitimate children they
fathered), supported adoption through various actions such as making it illegal
to sell contraceptives to anyone under 16 years of age (1954 and 1977). Moreover, it was illegal to even discuss
contraception with under-16-year-olds until 1989. Adoption agencies and the bible reiterated the
need to ensure those born outside wedlock be given the best opportunity. Therefore single mothers found it difficult
to receive support and were encouraged give up their children as there was
morally, and financially no support for them and or their child.
'
Whilst minister Tolley suggests
that the government was not active in the forced removal of children she is
certainly ignoring the lack of financial support and government policies that
rendered women helpless to prevent pregnancy and once pregnant to bring their
child up. Abortion was only dangerous it was illegal.
Oblivious to the political and
social environment that would construct a large part of my identity I was immediately
whisked away to be put up for adoption.
Looking back on my adoption and childhood I cannot excuse either the
system or my adopted parents for their callous mistreatment of myself as an ‘illegitimate
children’’. My adopted parents however, functioned
within a structure that felt like a second-skin to them; what they did seemed ‘natural’. For them it was natural / right for a woman to
give up her child, did she not want better for her infant, a loving family,
like them, who would offer security, normality and the opportunity to be a
better human being than the infants birthmother, wasn’t their home then not the
best place for this child.
This romanticised notion of
rescuing a child from bedlam helped construct the savior mentality of both my
adopted mother and myself as something ‘special’ until the day, minute, hour –
time it all changed. Maybe it was my
father’s sexual abusive nature that opened up the schism they tried so hard to hold
shut. Maybe it was my ongoing questions
about whom my mother was, where she lived and why she left me behind, or maybe
it was everything as life, my mother’s health, my fathers and mother’s violence
erupted into the chaos of family life.
What I do know is that between Joyce, Stand and my adopted grandmother I
learnt that the blood flowing through my veins was tainted and it was their
responsibility to eradicate this infection.
I felt my abandonment
deeply. As a baby my adopted mother
(Joyce) said I was the quietest baby she had met. I have always wondered if deep within my
being I stayed still and quiet so as not to be left again. The veneer of being
‘special’ certainly vanished as I grew older.
Misdemeanors were placed on my origins and it became clear that my
parents used Christianity to try and eradicate the evil within my body. Blood was understood to hold the sins of the
mother and as a female child born out of wedlock I was tainted. My grandmother
believed beatings would help, my parents were not overly keen on this idea
however tended to overlook and later participate in giving me a good hiding in
the hope that it would correct me.
Worse still was the ridicule of
some children I attended school with. They took it upon themselves to enforce my
place in the school ground hierarchic. Ridiculed
and stigmatised I found solace in daydreaming and beside my friend Karen a
young Māori girl who used violence to defend her sister from ridicule. Like her it became my role to defend my
younger brother and sister from children who truly believed we should not be allowed
to be part of their world. Eventually I
internalised all this hatred finding an outlet in blaming my birthmother for having
given birth to me. I often swore that if
I ever meet her I would spit on her.
This anger ran strongly beside a hope that one day she would arrive on
my doorstep and take me away.
In my early teens I would often
find myself drawn to woman who look liked similar to me or who showed me
kindness and wonder ‘are you my mother’?
I would construct elaborate stories acting them out in my head using
them to protect me from the growing hate and violence that was becoming part and
parcel of my everyday life. Most
puzzling to me was why two people would adopt children and then treat them with
such hatred and violence. I finally
began to think that this was in fact the sole purpose of my adopted – I was
brought into that home to be abused. There were times of great love, rarely occurring
as I grew older but those moments fade in the assault of hatred, anger,
violence and abuse. By the time I was in
my mid-teens my parents were outright aggressive towards me arguing that they
had wished they had never adopted me and that any traits that caused strife
were directly inherited from my birthmother.
In the mid 1980’s I finally
received my original birth certificate.
In the mid 90’s I made finally found the courage to contact my birth mothers
family, only to find out she was dead. I
have learnt to live with the conflicting dichotomy of being adopted - the love
/ hate confusion has played badly in my life but also given me insights into
the human psyche. Not that it has given
me any really concrete answers.
For the minister to state that
they play no part in the forced adoptions of children between the 1950’s and 70’s
is ludicrous and as a child forcibly taken away from my mother I support those
women who are standing up making a noise.
My only criticism of these women is that they have thoughtlessly left us
behind. For nine months those women carried
us, a symbiotic being, we went through the good and the bad and on the day of
our birth strangers separated us and guarantee our separation would in some
cases be for life. To fight this government’s
refusal to acknowledge the evil of the past and to bring about a holistic solution
for mothers and children I really believe that those of us who suffered through
our adoption should work together with these women, as it is essential that healing
plays a massive part of any challenge to a destructive inhumane system.
