Bastard Book Rerview:
Family Matters:
Secrecy and Disclosure
in the History of Adoption
by E. Wayne Carp
Harvard University Press,1998
Reviewed by CK Bertrand Holub
(This feature appeared in the Spring/Summer 1998 issue of the Bastard Quarterly.)
Carp, an Associate Professor of History at Pacific Lutheran
University, has produced a fascinating, maddening history of
adoption in the
United States. He was given unprecedented access to the confidential
files
of the Children's Home Society of Washington, the first
professional
researcher permitted to examine thousands of closed adoption case
records.
One of his major findings is that disclosure rather than secrecy
was
the norm in adoption until after World War II.
Carp begins his work with a discussion of adoption throughout
western and
American history, but I will confine my remarks to his discussion
of
adoption in 20th century America.
Adoption was relatively rare during the first third of this
century for a
number of reasons, among them child welfare workers' emphasis
on the preservation of the biological family and the
stigmatization of
adoption as socially unacceptable and inferior to biological
kinship. In
addition, the eugenics movement coupled the taint of illegitimacy
to
adoption as it was thought that illegitimate children were the
products
of feebleminded, unmarried mothers.
State legislatures followed the advice of two national child
welfare organiza-
tions, the U.S. Children's Bureau and the private Child Welfare
League of
America, in regulating placements. The CWLA published its first
set of
adoption standards in 1938, which provided safeguards for the
child, the
adoptive parents, and the state. Among these safeguards were an
emphasis on
maintaining ties with the family of origin if possible, and the
shielding
of adoptive parents' identities from the natural parents if an
adoption
took place.
The immediate pre-war years saw the beginning of a number of
trends
that would transform adoption during the next three decades, such
as the
increasing demand of childless couples for adopted children and
the rise in the
number of children available for adoption.
The discrediting of the eugenics movement's claims about the
heredi-
tary nature of feeblemindedness removed that taint from many
poten-
tially adoptable children, and the development of psychometric
tests
assured prospective adoptive parents that children were safe to
adopt.
The post-war demographic boom in children born out of wedlock
coincided with that era's ideology of domesticity and the
glorification
of the nuclear family. From 1935 to 1965, the number of adoptions
grew
ninefold.
Carp discusses three sources for information on adoptees:
court
records, vital statistics registries, and agency records. Those
states
that provided for conf'identiality of court records prior to WWII
did so
to prevent the public from inspecting them. Their intent was not
to prevent
the parties to an adoption from accessing the records.
The wording of the statutes made this clear, and in some cases
explicitly gave
the justification as preventing outsiders from gaining knowledge
regarding
illegitimacy and other private matters. Social workers also
campaigned for
confidentiality in order to ensure for their profession the same
legal
privilege accorded to doctors and lawyers.
Although most of the states that passed confidentiality
provisions allowed all
concerned parties access to adoption records, some began to
prohibit birth
parents from inspecting them in order to protect the adoptive
family from
their interference.
Before WWII, however, 23 states did not provide any
confidentiality for
adoption records. Those which did, did not mention agency case
files,
and did not restrict access to them. Nowhere in the laws,
legislative pro-
ceedings or writings of professional social workers was it ever
advocated
that adult adoptees should not be permitted to access the legal
information
pertaining to themselves.
The Bureau of the Census issued the first national standard birth
certificate
in 1915. Prior to that, birth registration was unreliable and
haphazard. Because
they recorded births as legitimate or illegitimate, reformers
advocated
making those records confidential, but also would permit the
individuals
to whom they belonged access them when they came of age.
By the early 1930s, some states had passed a variety of laws to
remove
mention of illegitimacy. Other modifications to the original
certificate were
proposed, but child welfare workers insisted on preserving the
historical
record for the child to be able to learn about their original
families when they
reached adulthood.
The device of the amended birth certificate, which would name the
adoptive parents as the natural parents of a legitimate child,
was proposed by
two vital statistics registrars in 1930 and enacted by 35 states
by 1941.
Their expressed concern was to protect children from being
exposed
as illegitimate, and they specifically recommended that the
sealed original
certificate "shall be opened upon demand of said child, or
his natural
or adopting parents, or by the order of a court of record."
(p. 54) Main-
taining family histories-or case records-was central to the
develop-
ment of social work as a profession during the first quarter of
this century
and, among other things, distinguished licensed agencies from the
private,
unlicensed ones that asked no questions and kept no records.
Until the end of WWII, professional social workers felt it was
their duty
to compile detailed family histories to hold in trust for the
adoptee until
he/she came of age. Because of their allegiance to the biological
model of
the family, social workers hoped to eventually facilitate the
reunions of
adoptees with their birth families, either personally or through
the
information they had gathered on the adoptees' behalf.
Carp's privileged access to the records of the CHSW from 1895 to
1988
enabled him to see which members of the triad returned to that
agency
post-adoption, and to also determine what types of information
they were
given. He discovered that non- identifying and identifying
information
was freely shared with adult adoptees, as well as, to a lesser
degree, with
both birth and adoptive parents.
The median age of children placed by the agency before WWII was
four-and-a-half years old. So often strong bonds had formed in
the birth
family; many requests to the agency were for help in reuniting
siblings
who had been separated. The agency operated as a sort of passive
registry
for birth parents, often acted as intermediary for them, and
satisfied a
variety of requests for help in dealing with their children's
problems on
behalf of adoptive parents.
It was never the agency's policy to disclose all the information
it
possessed; negative information was routinely held from all
paities of the
triad, for "their own good."
The most important point to be made, however, is that before the
mid-1960s
they divulged identifying information to most adult adoptees who
requested
it. After WWII, the policy of disclosure gave way to one of
secrecy.
Carp cites several reasons for this, among them a desire to
defend the
adoption process from interference from the birth farnily, a
desire by
social workers to increase their own influence and power and to
bolster
social work's professionalism, and, most controversially, to
protect birth
mothers' privacy.
The changing demographic composition of birth mothers-from the
pre-
war, primarily married or divorced women who worked outside their
homes and relinquished their usually older children for economic
reasons,
to the post-war younger, more broadly middle-class unmairied
women who
relinquished their children in infancy contributed to the
imposition of
secrecy as opposed to confidentiality, according to Carp. It is
his contention
that these birth mothers demanded secrecy at a time when there
was
tremendous stigmatization of unwed pregnancy, and that they were
aban-
doning licensed agencies to patronize private agencies in search
of this secrecy.
Carp fails to support this point with references. His discussion
of it seems
only to illustrate that birth mothers were demanding to the
degree that
they were in a position to demand anything, not eternal anonymity
from
their offspring, but protection from community exposure of the
type
which established social work fact-gathering entailed.
A caseworker from a CWLA member agency stated her belief that
"more
mothers of middle-class families and those of higher educational
and
cultural advantages would tutn to the accredited children's
agencies
for placement of their children if they could feel certain that
their confidences
would be respected and no publicity of any sort attached to the
proceed-
ings." (p.112)
It was thus partly a business decision to lure prospective
clients back to
licensed agencies that determined the policy of secrecy. Social
workers
touted their new policy of secrecy as a lure to adoptive parents
as well,
claiming that accredited agencies had a greater ability to
conceal the identity
of natural and adoptive parents from each other than unlicensed
facilities.
Although he does not discuss the process in detail, Catp asserts
only
that the law soon followed this new social work principle, and
adoption
records were sealed to all parries in most states soon after WWII
to be
opened only upon judicial showing of good causc. Carp
overgeneralizes,
however, from the case of Washington, the state he studied in
greatest detail.
California, for example, closed its records to all parties in
1935.
This hypothesized demand for secrecy coincided with a new
psychoanalytic
paradigm in which unwed mothers were no longer the congenitally
feebleminded girls and women of the eugenics era, but the
neurotic
and therefore curable daughters of the middle class. It was
deemed
unhealthy for both mother and child for them to be kept together,
and as
early a separation as possible was advocated.
With the goal of biological family preservation no longer
pre-eminent,
the mission statement of the CHSW, for example, no longer
referred to
preserving family history for the adult adoptee, who was
increasingly seen
as also neurotic for even requesting it. This new restrictive
policy was codi-
fied in the 1960 CHSW Adoption Manual, which bluntly stated that
"for reasons of confidentiality" no identifying
information should be
released to adult adoptees.
Carp discusses the rise of the adoption rights movement (the ARM,
in his
terminology) in the 1970s, and its divergence from ALMA founder
Florence Fisher's emphasis on the constitutional right of adult
adoptees
to access their birth and adoption records. He disparages the
work of
Sorosky, Baran, and Pannor-authors of "The Adoption
Triangle,"--as
being pseudoscientific social science ideology which pathologizes
adoptees
as psychologically damaged individuals who suffer
"genealogical bewilder-
ment" and "adoptee syndrome"-concepts he terms
bogus.
Tlte climate of the 70s, with its new emphasis on openness in
government,
the importance of finding one's family roots, and the diminishing
stigmatiza-
tion of single pregnancy, predisposed the mass media and the
general public
to be sympathetic to the goals of the ARM, although the adoption
establish-
ment, the courts, and state legislatures refused, as he puts it,
to abrogate the
pledges of secrecy made to birth mothers.
He cites the various compromise solutions of the 80s and 90s of
mutual
registries and intermediary systems as accomplishments of the
ARM,
although not what more "ideologically rigid " sections
of that movement
would wish.
The backlash efforts of the NCFA also are noted. Bill Pierce
supposedly
refused to speak with Carp, but Carp nonetheless pseudonymously
retells
the old Carol Sandusky story and uses it to score points against
adoption
reformers.
Carp's conclusions will engender much discussion and disagreement
in the adoption reform movement. From those who think that
adoptees
are primally wounded and need to search in order to resolve their
identity
issues, to those, like Bastard Nationals, who are
"ideologically rigid" or
principled enough to insist on the right of unconditional access
to birth
and adoption records.
It is interesting to note that Carp repeatedly refers to the
promises of
confidentiality made to birth mothers as the reason he thinks
records should
not be opened except with birth parents' consent. And although he
makes reference to the Tennessee semi-open records law, he makes
no
reference to the findings of the Sixth Circuit Court in Doe v.
Sundquist in
regard to that legal decision reached one full year before the
publication
of this book.
He asserts that the legal decision in ALMA v. Mellon of 1979,
which
refused to overtum sealed records laws on the basis of
unconstitutionality,
has never been reversed. But he fails to note that the Court in
Doe v.
Sundquist opined that the "right to privacy does not extend
as far as the
plaintiffs would wish," i.e., as far as maintaining birth
parent anonymity.
Although he claims to wear the mantle of academic neutrality, he
disingenuously takes a political stand and advocates a mutual
consent
registry as a way to "balance the rights of all
parties."
He decries the pathologizing of adoptees and yet lends his
support
to a system that is predicated on the assumption that
birthparents and
adoptees need protection from each other.
I highly recommend this book for its wealth of historical
information, but
you will find yourself arguing with it repeatedly.
It was fascinating to me, as one who grew up under the sealed
records
system, to learn that it was not always so, that this system is
not
engraved in stone, and that its original intent was not to
deprive
adoptees of their rights.
I also hope it will inspire many of us to undertake research
on the
process of how records came to be sealed in our own states, as
Carp's work raises nearly as many questions as it answers.
It should also be mentioned that in his prefatory "Note
on Language"
he refers to Bastard Nation as "a group of adoptees on the
Internet
[who] have created a Web page that they defiantly call Bastard
Nation,
thus reappropriating the original term of opprobrium and turning
it into a
term of pride and commitment in their quest to secure access to
their
adoption records."
Except for the fact that we're not just a Web site anymore,
that, at least,
is something he got right.
Cynthia Kathryn (CK) Bertrand Holub is a reunited adoptee,
Mid Atlantic
Regional Director of Bastard Nation and a newly appointed member
of its
Executive Committee. She is a librarian and lives with her
husband and two
children in Philadelphia, PA.
(This feature appeared in the Spring/Summer 1998 issue of the Bastard Quarterly.)
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