Monthly Archives: September 2015

The Questions and Losses When an Adoption Agency Closes

Posted on by
8

An Open Letter to Adoption Service Providers, the Joint Council on International Children’s Services, the National Council For Adoption, and the Council on Accreditation

Adoption is so much more than placement. The ethical responsibility of providers and practitioners stretches out for decades. 

Increasing numbers of adoption agencies are closing these days, especially those working in international adoption. Many of these agencies were paid and certified members of  JCICS, NCFA, and COA. Many international agencies have moved from country to country over the years, opening and closing programs (Romania, Guatemala, Uganda, Honduras, Ethiopia, etc.) While there are many reasons for the moves and closures, the only consequence most people think of is that fewer children will find families. That is  significant, but there are several other huge concerns.

I am writing today to ASP’s, JCICS, NCFA, and COA to better understand.

How are adult adoptees and first/birth families notified that an agency is closing or is gone? Adoptive families are notified via emails from the agency, or through Facebook groups, or through clicking on a web site and finding it….gone. How are the birth/first families, especially in other countries, notified? What happens when people search for information a year or a decade after an agency has closed?

What happens to the records? How does an adoptee track down his or her agency records when the agency (Christian World Adoption, Adoption Advocates International (WA), Adoption Ark, International Adoption Guides, etc., etc.) shuts its doors? Agency closures represent thousands of adoptions. How would a non-English-speaking birth/first parent with limited Internet access get any records about the placement?

When adoption agencies close their doors, or close a country program, what ethical responsibilities does the agency have to the birth/first families? Adoptive families and adoptees can find (admittedly often limited) post-adoption resources even after an agency closes: therapists, online information, magazines, other adoption agencies, conferences, parent groups, adoptee groups, Facebook groups. US first/birth parents have increasingly strong voices and roles in adoption policy, though they deserve much more recognition. What are the policies on post-adoption services for international first/birth parents?

Sometimes adoption agencies serve as liaisons between adoptive parents and birth parents. Letters and photos might be exchanged via the agency, for example. A birth mother might call the adoption agency on her child’s birthday, to see if there is an update. What happens to these liaison services when the agency closes?

I know of a birth mom in Washington state for whom Adoption Advocates International  was the liaison between her and the adoptive family. They do not know each other’s names. The agency had been forwarding photo updates twice a year from the adoptive parents to the birth mom. The child is about 10. In March 2014, AAI closed. The birth mom got no notice that AAI was closing. She doesn’t know how or whether she will ever hear about her daughter again. If anyone can help with this, please contact me: Maureen@LightOfDayStories.com.

An adoption agency that is closing often hands over active or pending cases to another adoption agency. Does that second agency also handle cases such as liaison work? What are the ethical and legal responsibilities of the second agency to the families of the first agency, especially over time?

Adoption agencies, JCICS, NCFA, and COA:  In the spirit of transparency and integrity, what happens not just legally, but ethically, after an agency closes? What are the thoughtful, enforceable, pragmatic policies to help adoptees and birth/first families?

If such policies do not currently exist, what are the strategies in place to create them? Who is at the table to create these policies: adoption agency staff, adoptive parents, adopted adults, and first/birth parents?

Some of you may wonder why I’ve included the Joint Council on International Children’s Services in this open letter. Didn’t they close back in June? Wasn’t that announced at the NCFA-JCICS conference? Why is there no mention on their website of closing, no announcement, no public disclosure at all? They still accept donations. They still accept donations. Are they still offering services? Thus, I decided to include them, and look forward to the response.

 

On Giving, Receiving, and the Journeys to Home

Posted on by
3

Driving around Seattle, I could no longer avert my eyes and close my mind to the homeless, because my 8-year-old granddaughter was often with me in the car. At various intersections, she asked me, “Why can’t we help them, Grandma?” Why indeed.

After some introspection and a few Internet searches, we decided to make Blessing Bags, or care packages, as Z calls them. They are zip-loc bags with things like socks, hand sanitizer, energy bars, chapstick, candy, and whatever one thinks might be helpful. Z put the bags together carefully, and included a pretty postcard with each.

IMG_0217

We put the bags in the car, and had our first opportunity to hand one to a young woman outside the Safeway. She said a happy “Thank you!” Another time, outside Walgreen’s, I bought Real Change and we handed a bag to the homeless fellow selling the paper. He smiled and thanked us. We smiled back.

IMG_0281

A couple of days later, we were at 7-11, where a bearded, ruddy-faced, young man with very tattered shoes was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall, talking and gesturing to himself. I asked Z if she wanted to give the man a care package and she said, “No, but you can.” Ok then. I took a deep breath and walked over to him, handing him the bag. He didn’t look at me, didn’t say a thing, and took the bag with a look of curiosity.

I scurried back to my car, and Z and I watched him open the bag. He immediately put the socks on. “See?” I said to Z, though I’m not sure just what point I was proving. He took out the deodorant and put in on his underarms.

Then he sealed the bag carefully up, and threw it in the trash.

Well.

“He threw the bag in the trash, Grandma! He didn’t even look at my postcard.” She was puzzled, and a little sad, maybe a little mad as well.

Yep. It was a great lesson/reminder for both of us about giving, and about expectations. I have to admit I thought: Buddy, you just threw away something I spent time and money on. You were supposed to be appreciative. My granddaughter wrote you a postcard.

So we talked, Z and I, about gift-giving: If we give something to other people, it becomes theirs, to do with what they will. Polite people with homes might trash our gifts after we leave, behind closed doors. Homeless people might trash them in plain sight. It’s okay. The important thing is that we give. Z and I acknowledged we have little real control over what happens after that.

We talked about thoughtful giving: wanting to give people things they need, want, and can use. Socks are very much needed from what I read about the homeless. Socks are not much fun, Z commented when we put the bags together, and so we put other things in that seemed, if not fun, more enjoyable: beef jerky, cookies, pretty tissue packs.

We also talked about our own expectations about how the bags would be received. Z said that people should thank us when we give them things–this is of course a lesson we drill into her, saying please and thank you. I said yes, that would be great–and sometimes people don’t say thank you. (Though you, my granddaughter, always should. And well, yes, so should I.)

We talked about why the young man threw our bag out. He didn’t like the other stuff. He took what he needed, and let go of the rest. We talk a lot in our home about “letting go:” of anger, envy, material excess, pettiness, etc. The man may not have had a place to put the stuff in the bag, or the bag itself. He got confused. He was rude. He only needed or wanted the socks. Many possibilities.

We talked about why people are homeless. Mental illness. Addictions. Bad luck. Bad choices. Complicated to figure out, and to explain to a child.

I want her to be unafraid to see the homeless as people, as individuals–and I am working on seeing them that way myself. She asked me if homeless people could be dangerous. Yes, I said, though most are not. It’s scary when they are talking to themselves or cursing or swinging their arms around, Grandma. Yes, it is. Most homeless people, most people generally, just want to be treated fairly and with dignity, to be listened to, and to be seen. So I take a deep breath, and work to practice what I’m preaching.

The bags are small gestures, make us feel better (I’m being honest here), and sometimes might help the people receiving them. It’s better than the averting my eyes and ignoring that I so easily used to do. On a global scale, watching the tragedies of refugees leaving their homes and losing their children, I find myself overwhelmed. Yes, I donated. Yes, I send out prayers and wishes for safety and healing. Yes, I posted the powerful poem “Home” by the young Somali poet Warsan Shire on my Facebook page. What else, what else, what can we do?

Z and I will keep giving out our little packages, and smiling, listening, and learning. As one spiritual teacher said so well, “We are all just walking each other home.” Sometimes it is a long, hard journey.

 

 

 

“Understanding Why Adoptees Are At Higher Risk For Suicide”

Posted on by
15

Update: The article is no longer posted on Forefront’s webpage, so I have removed the link. The article is available in full at the bottom of this post.

 

Talking about suicide is hard and uncomfortable. Talking about it in connection with adoption–which often has much joy but is more complex than people realize–is challenging. And we need to talk, and keep sharing information and resources.

I am pleased to share with you my article “Understanding Why Adoptees Are At Higher Risk For Suicide,” published today by Forefront, a University of Washington collaboration of the UW School of Social Work, UW Communication, UW School of Nursing, and UW College of Education.

My three main points in the article are these:

Adoption is a trauma.

Adoptees often don’t know their medical histories, which may include depression and other illnesses.

Adoptees don’t want to upset their adoptive parents with concerns about depression or what could be seen as ingratitude.

I know people I love more than words can say who have considered. and attempted, suicide. I do not presume to speak specifically for them in my writing, because their stories are theirs to tell–or not.  Because of my experiences, and because of hearing about the suicides (or attempts) of adoptees, I have felt compelled to speak out. I hope other voices, especially those of adoptees themselves, will come forward as well and be welcomed, even as we struggle together.

This is a clarion call to adoption agencies and organizations to make suicide awareness and prevention–especially as it relates to adoptees–a fundamental part of their training and adoption-related services. I mean no disrespect to birth/first mothers, fathers, and family members, as they also have genuine struggles. My focus here, however, was on adoptees.  I have heard just this week about 2 12-year-olds, boys, Ethiopian adoptees, in different states, who committed suicide in August. I heard recently from an adoptee of the Baby Scoop Era, now in her 50’s, who has struggled with suicidal thoughts for decades.

September is National Suicide Prevention Month. September 10 is World Suicide Prevention Day. Please read, learn, share, and speak out.

My thanks to Forefront for publishing my article.

May we all find healing and hope, and reasons to live.

IMG_0037

 

Understanding Why Adoptees Are At Higher Risk For Suicide

Originally published September 2015 by Forefront. Copyright: Maureen McCauley

Most people view adoption as a happy, even blessed, event. A child finds a new family: nothing but joy, right? Adoption can be happy, a blessing, joyful. For some adoptees, though, adoption is complex, and can be filled with as much loss as love.

According to the American Academy of Pediatrics, adoptees are four times more likely to attempt suicide than non-adoptees. It’s here in Pediatrics. Even more startling is that the mean age of the 1000 participants was about 14. Out of the total group, which included adoptees and biological children, 56 had attempted suicide. Of those 56, 47 were adoptees.

Why are adoptees at such risk for suicide? Here are a few reasons.

Adoption is a trauma.

This is a hard idea to accept, perhaps, but let’s look at some facts. Much research acknowledges that separation from one’s mother is trauma. Children separated from their mothers for whatever reasons, including for adoption, sometimes struggle with trust and attachment as a result of separation. Even children placed for adoption as infants can feel the impact of separation from their original mothers.

In the case where the separation is the result of neglect, abuse, or death, the trauma is intensified. Neglect and abuse are often the reasons children are placed for adoption. The American Academy of Pediatrics wrote a report called “Helping Foster and Adoptive Families Cope with Trauma.” It’s a helpful guide, to be shared with pediatricians and other caregivers.

I’ve known many adoptive families where the parents love their children and the children love their parents—but still the children struggle with the fundamental losses connected with adoption. We are hardwired to need and depend on our mothers for survival. If there is an end to that basic relationship, children can suffer—even if they are infants, even if there is a new (loving, overjoyed) mother. So it’s not only neglect or abuse that contribute to trauma, though please don’t minimize those challenges.

The grief and trauma may not emerge all at once, or at a particular time or age, or in an obvious way. Some adoptees may have minimal struggles. Some struggle for a lifetime. Being open to talking about the losses in adoption, as well as the joys, is vital.

Adoptees often don’t know their medical histories, which might include depression and other illnesses.

Many adoptees, adopted in the US or internationally, do not know their own medical histories. In the US, some seven states allow adopted persons to access their original birth certificates. A handful more allow partial or restricted access. This can mean that adoptees have extremely limited access to their medical histories, so that neither they nor their adoptive parents have a full picture of their genetic and/or inherited conditions. International adoptees often have no medical histories available to them as well.

Access to one’s medical and mental health history–too often denied to adopted persons–could be a matter of life and death. Knowing about a history of depression or other mental illnesses in one’s family could mean proactive treatment and interventions.

Increasing numbers of adoptees are locating birth/first families through Internet and other searches. Many are using DNA testing. While those can be positive developments to finding out if depression or other conditions are present, sometimes that information is unavailable or comes too late. As a community, we need to insist that adoptees have full and accurate information about their own histories.

Adoptees don’t want to upset their adoptive parents with concerns about depression or what could be seen as ingratitude.

Adoptees are often expected to be happy and grateful. That can be a heavy burden at times. They don’t want to seem ungrateful, though the issue of gratitude in adoption is complex. When adoptees experience depression, especially related to adoption, they can be reluctant to tell their adoptive parents. They can act out in many ways, and often all this occurs during the “normal” turbulence of adolescence. Some of the acting out can be the result of known or unknown trauma, or of unexpressed depression.

As an adoptive parent, I believe that adoption is all about gains and losses, joy and grief, a balance that shifts often throughout life. I also believe if we took a deep breath and viewed adoption as trauma—trauma that can be acknowledged and treated, trauma that some people may experience to a small or large degree—we would be better able to help adopted children heal and grow healthy, sooner than later.

Some adoptees heal just fine from the trauma of separation. Some struggle with trust issues throughout their lives, and have a hard time beginning or ending relationships. Some are challenged with depression, anxiety, and more. I want to stress this point: there is a spectrum of resilience among adopted people. The spectrum does not negate the need for awareness of suicide prevention. Adoptive families need to be aware of the potential difficulties, to be open to thoughtful communication, and to obtain effective, timely services.

I’ve focused here on adoptees, and I want to acknowledge first/birth parents in these struggles as well. Trauma and mental illness are often (not always) challenges for them, and they deserve attention and services as well. Recognizing that adoption is a trauma, understanding that trauma manifests differently in different people and over time, and allocating resources for treatment and support: that would be a positive step toward healing.