Sunday, November 15

Child Migrants Apology Planned


UK child migrants apology planned
Gordon Brown is to apologise for the UK's role in sending thousands of its children to former colonies in the 20th century, the BBC has learned.

Under the Child Migrants Programme - which ended just 40 years ago - poor children were sent to a "better life" in Australia, Canada and elsewhere.

Officials are consulting with survivors of the programme so that a statement can be made in the new year.

On Monday, Australia's prime minister will apologise to the 7,000 UK migrants living there for the mistreatment.

He will deliver a national apology to the "Forgotten Australians" and recognise the mistreatment and ongoing suffering of some 500,000 people held in orphanages or children's homes between 1930 and 1970.

As they were compulsorily shipped out of Britain, many of the children were told - wrongly - their parents were dead, and that a more abundant life awaited them.

Many parents did not know their children, aged as young as three, had been sent to Australia.

Care agencies worked with the government to send disadvantaged children to a rosy future and supply what was deemed "good white stock" to a former colony.

In a letter to the chairman of the health select committee this weekend, Mr Brown said "the time is now right" for the UK to apologise for the actions of previous governments.

"It is important that we take the time to listen to the voices of the survivors and victims of these misguided policies," he wrote.

Kevin Barron, chairman of the select committee which looked into what happened, said he was "very pleased" to have received a written commitment from Mr Brown.

"After consultation with organisations directly involved with child migrants we are going to make an apology early in the new year," he said.

Baroness Amos, Britain's high commissioner in Canberra, said an apology was an important part of addressing the damage.

She told the BBC: "We've always said that this was an absolutely shocking period in our history and it's important that there is an apology.

"The trust has campaigned for over 20 years for this kind and degree of recognition. For child migrants, of course, it has been all their lives and for their families.

"This is a moment - a significant moment - in the history of child migration.
The recognition is vital if people are to recover."

*Adult adoptees in America REMAIN stripped of recognition for being withheld the same right as every other American citizen to obtain our original birth certificates. What a day it will be when all 51 states restore that unconditional right to our citizens. We and our children after us deserve this ~ "now is the time".
"What sorrow awaits the unjust judges and those who issue unfair laws. They deprive the poor of justice and deny the rights of the needy among my people. They prey on widows and take advantage of orphans. Seek justice. Help the oppressed. Defend the cause and fight for the rights of orphans and widows. For I, the Lord, love justice. I hate robbery and wrongdoing. I will faithfully reward my people for their suffering and make an everlasting covenant with them. Everyone will realize that they are a people the Lord has blessed."Isaiah 1:17,10:1-2,61:8-9

...Not a Commodity


DIANNE DEMPSEY
November 15, 2009

Maggie Millar has a problem with Deborra-Lee Furness' work. Supported by her movie star husband, Hugh Jackman, Furness has cranked up a campaign to open up overseas adoption for Australian couples. Part of this campaign has been creating National Adoption Awareness Week, which will be running this coming week.

Maggie Millar is an artist and an actor, too, though she never reached the heights of fame of Furness and Jackman. Millar has been a stalwart of Australian theatre and has been praised by critics as warm, lusty and downright brilliant.

One reason, perhaps, for the brilliance of her acting was that she had plenty of practice, even as a little girl. You see, Millar was adopted and she never quite got the knack of being part of her adoptive family. ''All of my relatives were like aliens to me; as I no doubt was to them,'' she says.

It wasn't until many years later, when she read a book by Nancy Verrier, that she finally understood her anguish. Verrier is a US psychotherapist specialising in adoption issues. She is also an adoptive parent.

According to Verrier, the infant and mother are still connected outside the womb - physiologically, psychologically and spiritually. The infant, she says, knows the mother's smell, voice, heartbeat, energy and skin. On adoption, the separation results in a terrible feeling of abandonment that is indelibly printed upon the unconscious mind of the child. The grief of separation is so profound that it causes a searing wound, a primal wound.

It is because of the fear of being abandoned again that adopted children often display two types of behaviour. They will either be provocative, rebellious and angry, or they will become withdrawn, compliant and forever on guard. Sometimes they will display a combination of both behaviours.
Millar says the pain of separation and the subsequent loss of identity is accentuated for inter-country adoptees. ''The statistics around these adoptees are only now coming to light and they are disturbing,'' she says. ''They have much higher rates of suicide and depression than children who are adopted within their own countries. Many of these adoptees go back to their country of origin but even there they do not feel at home, they are dispossessed, their identity stolen.''

Furness' organisation is called Orphan Angels. She has quoted UNICEF figures claiming there are 103 million orphans in the Third World. That number is a misrepresentation. UNICEF defines an orphan as a child who has lost one parent. The true figure for what most of us would regard as orphans is closer to 13 million children, and most of these are living with extended family - in poverty.

Trafficking, kidnapping and exploitation of children and their parents abounds when agencies offer huge sums of money in an impoverished country. Graphic cases of corrupt practices connected to the adoption industry in Ethiopia were exposed by the ABC's Foreign Correspondent program in September.

When Madonna and Angelina pick out babies from orphanages like dolls from a shelf, they are sending a message that children are a commodity. ''Wealthy people have the power and means to buy a child,'' Millar says, ''but the child and her family have little or no power over what is happening to them.'' Adoptees, she says, are the only people suffering from a profound trauma who are supposed to be grateful.

Millar feels for gay or infertile people who long for a child, but she asks them to think of the rights of the child they are adopting. ''Someone else's child is not a cure for infertility. No one is entitled to a child, especially to someone else's child. Adoption should be a last resort and should be done with eyes wide open. Be aware of the consequences … Be educated and be prepared for a long journey. Not all adoptions are unsuccessful but all adoptions take a lot of work.''

Reform of adoption procedures was a hard-won battle resulting in the 1984 Victorian Adoption Act. This gave adoptees access to their records. When the legislation came into force, some 7000 people in Victoria alone queued up, waiting to find out who they were. Now the general benefits of this hard-won battle are being eroded.

The push for inter-country adoption is generally misguided. People who wish to help children of the third world should start by helping them within their own country, their own culture and their own tribe.

Dianne Dempsey is a Melbourne writer. For more information on overseas adoption, visit NancyVerrier.com, Vanish.org.au.

Saturday, November 14

Anne Fessler "Everlasting"

Sunday, November 8

Bitter-Sweet Surprises


I've been busy cleaning out my Mom's house ~ the same house I grew up in. It is surreal to go back all these years later and revisit childhood memories. Admittedly, I have put this task off as long as possible.

Anyway, I have found some sweet surprises in the midst of the clutter. Some that remind me of how very much I mean to my Mom. One thing I found the other day really made me smile, though. It was a small wallet-size photo album filled with pictures of me growing up. Thinking it was my Mom or Grandmother's (Nanny), I started leafing through the pictures and surprisingly found my Aunt Kay's old AARP card in it. I realized it was hers and then pulled out a folded-up, yellowed paper. It was so neat to unwrap this small surprise and find a poem written in her own handwriting.

Aunt Kay passed away in 1984, when I was in the tenth grade. It was a traumatic three years watching my Nanny (her twin sister) walk right beside her as she battled cancer. Aunt Kay was a beautician and I spent many a day in her "shop" on Florence doing my nails and hearing her little gray-headed clients tell stories of yesteryear. She gave me my first hair-cut. I so looked forward to her annual New Year's Party. If I try real hard, I can still smell the delicious appetizers, and feel the tickle of sparkling Cold Duck. I remember the low drone of football roaring from the living room tv. Uncle Olan would somehow make sure my favorite number #10 was the winning football team in the annual "pot" and every year I believed them when they exclaimed how "lucky" I was. Isn't it amazing what memories stay with you from childhood? It saddens me that my son will not know hardly anyone from my adoptive family. Only his Grandma is left.

After my reunion, I would try to think back over the years and marvel at the fact my first Mother was ALWAYS just within a few miles of me my whole childhood. She had lost her own battle with cancer just a few years before I watched my Aunt Kay lose her hair and get so weak. I was completely unaware. But yet so sad.

Right before my first Mother got breast cancer she had finally made her dream move to the country. She adored all kinds of animals and always wanted to live in the open where she could enjoy many around her. Little did I know (this little animal lovin' adoptee ~ remind me to write about my one and only detention in H.S., due to illegal posting of PETA posters on all the bulletin boards), that all the while I was a preteen, busy exploring (among other things) my Aunt Hazel and Uncle Dean's new acreage and homestead in Collinsville, that my first Mother was living just a few miles north in Ramona.

I spent a lot of time at my best friend's house by the elementary school we attended, never knowing that her Dad, L.D., worked at the carrier company my first grandfather, Papa Sid helped establish just a few blocks away. How many times did my first family and I pass each other on the old Admiral "traffic circle" over the years? Or were in the same store. The old TG&Y my Nanny managed or Borden's Cafeteria?

The first time I laid eyes on my Grandmother Carolyn (the first birth relative I met, my first Mother's mom), we had immediately decided to meet at that first phone call, and the closest place we could think of was the Grandy's where I had worked all through highschool. Never realizing she lived less than a mile away and frequented the restaurant regularly.

Finding out things about my first Mother that gave me goosebumps ~ like how we shared the same favorite color, love for animals and writing, and we both attended "beauty school" (although my lame 11th grade vo-tech attempt only lasted a couple of days, when I found myself an official "beauty school drop-out" realizing real quick it was gonna be alot harder than learning how to "just cut hair" lol).

The "synchronicity" in adoption is truly amazing. Almost mind-blowing when you let yourself think about it. Treasured pieces of information that help define who I am. Yet having to wait until adulthood to find one tidbit here, another there, rationed over the years of my reunion. No matter how much I learn, I still yearn for more.

I so wish I could sit down with my first family yet again (even 20 years in) and pour over every detail and morsel of their lives and mine. This process of reunion is so painful that most of the time adoptees and first families take it in tiny increments and then back away emotionally, trying to integrate and survive the loss they experience, even in reunion. Like the waves of the sea, waxing and waning.

After finding out my first Mother passed away so young, another memory came back to me ~ attending a funeral in 6th grade of the mother of one of my school-friends. The most disturbing part of this vague memory is hearing the constant, judgemental criticism coming from my Mom about my friend and several other girls who apparently "had the nerve to play at her own mother's funeral".

For some reason that really made an impact on me and bothered me alot. But I didn't know why. As an adult looking back on this, and now knowing that my own first Mother's funeral was literally taking place around this same time, right around the corner, it really hurts. Mom had no idea what this young girl had gone through losing her mother so young and really shouldn't have gone on and on about her behavior, no matter what she was doing.

Maybe the reason this memory has bothered me so much, is that it finally hit me that, in a sense, adoptees are actually EXPECTED to "play" at our own Mother's funerals. Society gives us little freedom or validation to appropriately grieve losing that profound connection and how it permanently alters our very identity, emotions, childhood, and life-long experiences. Instead, we find ourselves in hiding, behind plastered-on-smiles at "Gotcha Day" PARTIES, complete with streamers, balloons, and cake.
All these memories came back to me after I carefully unfolded this tiny, yellowing paper tucked away in the photo book. It seems like God uses little reminders to guide me gently through bitter-sweet memories ~ even though I sometimes feel like a stranger in a foreign land.

Here are the beautiful words I read: (Thank you, Aunt Kay)

"God is no stranger in a far away place.
He's as close as the wind that blows on my face.
It's true I can't see the wind as it blows,
But I feel it around me and my heart surely knows.
That God's mighty hand can be felt every minute
For there's nothing on earth that God isn't in it."
(Helen Steiner Rice)

Saturday, November 7

History is...His Story

Jesus Hands Holding Tree
© Photographer: Ginosphotos | Agency: Dreamstime.com

He is the First and Last, the Beginning and the End! He is the keeper of Creation and the Creator of all!

He is the Architect of the universe and the Manager of all times. He always was, He always is, and He always will be... Unmoved, Unchanged, Undefeated, and never Undone!

He was bruised and brought healing! He was pierced and eased pain! He was persecuted and brought freedom! He was dead and brought life! He is risen and brings power! He reigns and brings Peace!

The world can't understand Him, The armies can't defeat Him, The schools can't explain Him, and The leaders can't ignore Him.

He is light, love, longevity, and Lord. He is goodness, kindness, gentleness, and God. He is Holy, Righteous, mighty, powerful, and pure. His ways are right, His Word is eternal, His will is unchanging, and His mind is on you.

He is your Redeemer, He is your Savior, He is your guide, and He is your peace! He is your Joy, He is your comfort, He is your Healer, He is your Lord!

Friday, November 6

Woman Devoted to Helping Unwed Moms

Moroccan woman devoted to helping unwed moms wins $1 million Opus Prize
By Doug Belden and Adam Spencer
Pioneer Press
Updated: 11/05/2009

At key moments in her life, Aïcha Ech Channa has been visited by what she calls "little birdies from God."

A check will arrive out of the blue, or a chance encounter will restore her spirit and help her carry on with her work serving single mothers and their children.

Channa, 68, founder of the Association Solidarité Féminine in Casablanca, Morocco, landed a very large bird Wednesday, when she was announced as the winner of the $1 million Opus Prize, administered this year through the University of St. Thomas in St. Paul.

St. Thomas scoured the world to find Channa and two $100,000 winners on behalf of the Opus Prize Foundation, which bills the honor as "the world's largest faith-based, humanitarian award for social innovation."

The foundation was established in 1994 by the founding chairman of Minnetonka-based Opus Corp., and the first prize was awarded in 2004.

The foundation partners with Catholic universities, which administer the prize each year.

The two $100,000 prizes this year were awarded to Sister Valeriana García-Martín, founder of an organization in Colombia serving children with physical and mental disabilities, and The Rev. Hans Stapel, of Brazil, who works with people struggling with drug and alcohol addiction.

For Channa, the $1 million prize, which is nearly double her annual budget, means being able to move her organization to self-sufficiency and hopefully to leverage further donations to expand her work in
Casablanca.

Channa started off small in 1985 and now operates three day care centers and training schools, two restaurants, four kiosks and a fitness center/spa.

Her organization offers single mothers job skills, child care and other kinds of support and attempts to re-establish contact with their families and with the fathers of their children.

Because most children born out of wedlock do not have identification papers from the country, the organization declares the children to the state and gets papers for them.

"Often, these children feel that they have no identity," Channa, who speaks French, said through an interpreter.

Unwed mothers are considered prostitutes under Moroccan law, Channa said, and the expectation has been that children born out of wedlock would be given up for adoption, whether the mother wanted to keep them or not.

As a civil servant in the 1980s, Channa said, she began to realize she wanted to do more to help these women keep their children and become self-sufficient than she could do in her government job.

One day, she was watching a single mom give up her baby for adoption.

The woman was breastfeeding the child, and, as Channa described it in a press release announcing her prize, "at the moment when she forcibly took away her breast from the baby's mouth, the milk sprayed all over the baby's face and the baby cried. This cry was in my head. And that night, I did not sleep. I swore to do something."

When she started the association in 1985, it would have been difficult to publicly announce she was working on behalf of unwed mothers and their children, so she pitched it as general relief for women and children in distress.

"I kind of cheated," she said with a smile.

Attitudes have changed since then, Channa said, and changes to family law in 2004 bolstered some rights for Moroccan women.

Today, she said, children born of single moms go on TV in Morocco to look for their parents, which would have been unthinkable 10 years ago.

"It's a true revolution in Morocco," she said. "The train has started, and it's not going back."

Channa says she plans to carry on "as long as I can," and the recognition from Opus has helped generate interest in her work among young people, some of whom she hopes will continue the work after she's gone.

When her organization hits a rough patch, she likes to tell employees, "I'm going to go home and wait to see what he says," she said, gesturing up to the skies. "There's always an answer."

Tuesday, November 3

Mother Reunited with Child


Mother reunited with child she gave away 26 years earlier
October 30, 2009
By Sean Rose
srose@courier-journal.com

She gave up her daughter for adoption in 1978 in a decision fueled by
panic and desperation. In doing so, Marcie Roth, now 54, lost not only
her child but also the love of her life.

And then, almost three decades later, she found one, which helped her
regain the other.

Marcie Roth's life is a story of regret, acceptance, forgiveness, and
finally, joy; of walking away from her child's father, then
rediscovering their love 26 years later; of coming to terms with the
fact that she was a birth mother of an adopted child who was a
stranger to her.

One thing she knew for certain: She needed to search for that child
and reach out to her — if her daughter would have her.

On Father's Day, 2008, she placed the call that she both longed for
and dreaded. She identified herself to a person who answered.

"Momma," the voice on the telephone replied. "Is that you?"

An adoption tinged with regret

Thirty years earlier, Marcie Roth was a divorced, single mother in
Ephrata, Pa., raising one daughter while juggling a full-time job and
school. She didn't know what to do when she found out she was pregnant
again.

Her boyfriend, Roger Roth, told her he wasn't ready to be a father.

With little money and no plan, she confided in her doctor, who
suggested she give up the baby for adoption and arranged the
proceedings with a nearby couple.

It seemed the smart move for Marcie and a blessing for the couple.

But in the hospital, as an exhausted Roth glimpsed her infant daughter
for the first time, and felt her tiny fist wrap itself around her
pinkie, Roth regretted her decision.

Yet she kissed infant Jessica Dale Roth on the forehead and said a
prayer as her baby was taken away.

She said she didn't see Roger Roth for two months. One day as she
walked the neighborhood as a light snow fell, Roger pulled his car
next to her and rolled down his window.

"Want to go to breakfast?" he asked.

She got in. The snow grew heavier. They waited in the car, hardly
speaking. Then Roger took her hand and they both cried over the
daughter they had given up.

He asked if they could get her back, Marcie Roth said, but she told
him it was too late. Their daughter's original birth certificate and all records of the adoption were permanently sealed. Neither knew where she had been placed.

The two got back together, but they never spoke about their missing
daughter.

Marcie Roth felt the loss acutely. She said she would be perfectly
fine, then see a baby on the street and break down bawling.

"When you are a birth mother, it's like something is just ripped out
of you, and it's never acknowledged," Roth said. "And so you go on
thinking, `I made a hell of a mistake.'"

Her anger at Roger Roth for not stepping up to fatherhood immediately
and her inability to turn to him for comfort drove them apart. Two
years after the adoption, Marcie Roth moved back to New Albany, where
she had grown up.

"Somebody dies, you have family, you have friends, you have coworkers,
you have support groups and then there's an end to it, there's
closure," Marcie Roth said. "There's no closure to an
adoption, it's just there.

Daughter struggles to fit in

The child that Marcie gave away, meanwhile, grew up as Kara Gianna
Cerullo. She and her adopted mother, Sandra Cerullo, lived in Berwick
and then Harrisburg, Pa., just hours from where she had been born as
Jessica Dale Roth.

By age 10, Jessica said she knew that she was different. Her blue eyes
and blonde hair did not fit with her mother's dark complexion. And her
loud, outgoing nature did not match the quiet home in which she was
being raised. She started asking questions about her biological parents.

When Jessica Roth was 11, her adoptive father drove her to meet with
the doctor who arranged the adoption, who refused to tell Jessica Roth
the names of her parents.

Instead, he described Marcie Roth to her, telling the young girl she
looked just like her mother.

While Jessica Roth described her relationship with her adoptive mother
as good, she was a troubled teen. She began doing drugs and drinking
at 13, and by the time she was 17, she was a mother herself, she said.
With little money and no father to help raise her daughter, she gave her
first child up for adoption.

Jessica Roth had begun searching for her birth parents as a teenager,
scanning adoption registries online. But two events, the death of her
grandfather, who she was very close to, and her father's death four
years later, made her redouble her efforts.

The urgency to find her own medical history was clear as she Jessica
began experiencing seizures and even suffered a stroke in January
2008, she said.

The odds were stacked against her. Although by now her adopted mother
had given her birth parents' names, Jessica didn't have much to go on.
Because adoption proceedings were closed, Jessica Roth's birth
certificate was sealed under Pennsylvania law.

A majority of states, including Pennsylvania, Indiana and Kentucky,
require court orders for adoptees to access their original birth
certificate or identifying information about their natural parents as
adults. The three states have some measures to allow access to records
as long as there is consent from the biological parents.

Medical reasons are often not enough for a court to unseal the
records, said Robert Stenger, an adoption and family law professor at
the University of Louisville.

By 2008, Jessica Roth had been searching off and on for more than a
decade — with nothing to show for it.

Re-ignited love spurs search for daughter

Marcie Roth, meanwhile, remained paralyzed with guilt, which kept her
from trying to find to her daughter, she said.

"I felt like I didn't have a right," Marcie Roth said. "Who was I to
go marching into her life after all these years and turn her world
upside down?"

She figured that if her daughter wanted to find her, she could.

Roger Roth changed her mind.

They had not spoken in 26 years, until the day he unexpectedly called
her. They visited each other, and on their first date, he apologized
for not being a father for their daughter. He proposed. She accepted,
and the two were married in April 2008.

Marcie Roth saw a reason behind their reunion and began searching for
their daughter two months before the couple married. For the next five
months, she would stay up late into the night searching online
adoption registries online for any sign of her daughter, she said.
Reading strangers' stories online, she began to open up to others and
learned to forgive herself.

"I punished myself, and that's what every birth parent does," she
said. "You mentally beat yourself up over it, what you should have
done."

On Father's Day, 2008, Marcie Roth received a call from a woman named
JoAnne Stanik. Earlier that day, Roth had registered with Stanik's
adoption search Web site, adoptiondatabase.org.

On it she had left a typed message intended for her daughter:
"If you are looking for me and want to hear your story, I am ready to
tell it."

Stanik started looking, and in just four hours, found Jessica,
who was now Jessica Roth-Jendrick after marrying and had moved to
Florida.

Marcie Roth was stunned, but Stanik assured her that she had verified
her daughter's identity. Stanik gave her Jessica's phone number.

Marcie Roth hung up, picked up the phone again and dialed. It rang and
a young woman answered. Marcie Roth identified herself.

The response was clear: "Momma? Is that you?"

Reunion creates new family

A week later, on a summer evening, at Louisville International
Airport, Marcie Roth and her husband waited at the gate. Jessica
walked forward, surveyed the crowd and — even with no photo —
recognized her mother right away.

"I could spot her a mile away," Jessica Roth said.

That first night, the questions and answers flew as Marcie, Roger and
Jessica tried to catch up on 30 years of lost time. What were her
birthdays like? Did she go to the prom? Any boyfriends?

Jessica stayed for a week. Then she and her parents traded visits
until last June.

She started classes at the end of September at Daymar College studying
medical coding and billing moved into her own apartment in early
October. Cerullo, who'd been diagnosed with liver cancer earlier in
the year, joined her daughter in her new home, as did her husband, who
came from Florida.

Marcie Roth began sharing her story online with others struggling with
adoption. She said she's dedicated to raising awareness about the
anguish the adoption laws can cause.

She is also writing book about her experience and hopes that any
profits will further help Jessica and also go toward Stanik's search
organization.

And when there is friction in their relationship — as there sometimes
is, Marie recognizes it as inevitable as the two get to know each other.

"I just kept saying, `Honey, it's going to get better.' The main thing
is that we're together."