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My neighbor recently returned from Romania with her newly adopted
daughter. Amidst all the joy of baby-naming (they kept the toddler’s
Romanian name as a middle name and gave her a new first name), Margo*
could not help complaining bitterly that she’d had to wait nine months
for paperwork to be completed, including a home study and background
check, and that the adoption itself cost nearly $10,000. Margo’s
ambivalent crankiness is not uncommon. It might have been useful for
her to keep in mind that the best interests of her child were being
served by a thorough background check, and that even with no fertility
problems, conception takes three to six months, on average. Add in a
nine-month pregnancy and that brings to 15 months the time biological
parents have to wait. And prenatal care plus hospital bills for an
uncomplicated delivery just about match the cost of an adoption.
No due date
The difference for Margo is that she and many other adopters have
already paid a king’s ransom for failed attempts at such
state-of-the-art fertility treatments as in vitro fertilization.
Medical insurance rarely covers either these treatments or the
adoption itself. The adoptive families have also been enduring –
sometimes for years – a monthly emotional roller coaster of rising
hopes for parenthood, followed by dashed dreams.
During the adoption process, prospective parents live with the strain
of an uncertain wait. A lot of them describe the wait as stretching
out without a clear end in sight, sometimes until the last couple of
days. Unlike a pregnancy, adoptions do not come with a due date.
Add to these tensions the fact that close to 50% of birth mothers
change their minds and either keep the baby or have a relative become
guardian, according to Karen Rispoli, former coordinator of adoption
services at Jewish Family Services in New Brunswick, New Jersey. She
explains that while some attorneys hedge on figures or artificially
deflate that figure to only 25%, she prefers to prepare prospective
parents by being honest from the outset. She encourages parents to
“expect at least one set of plans to fall through, and remember that
it’s not a dead end; you will find a child.”
Ilene Schwartz, an adoptive mother of two and one of the national
board members of Stars of David, A Jewish adoptive parents support
network, agrees. “Most couples who stick with it do find a child. It
may not be the child they planned on originally, but it turns out to
be the child they love.”
Nevertheless, the whole infertility-then-adoption ordeal can leave
adopters in what Joyce Pavao, director of a Massachusetts adoption
agency and herself an adoptee, calls “a very fragile, needy state.”
She admits that “it becomes easy for adopters and for their social
workers to focus on their needs to the exclusion of anyone else’s.”
Jewish Adoption
Ethics
I guess this is where I had better lay all my cards on the table. I
am an adoptee, not an adoptive parent. I am the mother of three
biological children, but I endured an achingly long four-year wait
between the birth of my first and second daughters. Because of that
time, I can imagine, at least in part, some of what adoptive parents
go through. Nevertheless, I think there are some inaccurate
interpretations of the adoption data and unrealistic expectations
about the time and money investments of adoption. Inaccurate figures
have made would-be parents so fearful of never finding a baby that
they completely ignore “the best interest of the child” as long as
they can buy a baby better, faster, cheaper, and newer.
When I recently interviewed prospective adoptive parents about what
they consider ethical behavior in an adoption, they focused typically
on how others treated them: on whether the attorney charged a
fair fee and made sure the birth father had agreed to the adoption (so
that he wouldn’t create complications later), on whether the birth
mother changed her mind or not, on whether a foreign government or
agency expedited their case quickly or not. Certainly these demands
would parallel fair business practices in any exchange of goods or
activities for payment. But adoption is not just any business
exchange. It is holy enough, and complicated enough, that there
should be a body of halakhah advising adoption facilitators,
the adoptee, the birth parents and the adoptive parents on how they
should treat each other.
As one of the five thousand babies adopted in the state of New Jersey
in 1963, I know first hand how important it is to safeguard “the best
interests of the child.”
In my case, my birth mother, who is a Jew, contacted me five years ago
through the private adoption agency that had placed me with my parents
as an infant. She says the agency assured her that I had been placed
with an observant Jewish family. Instead I was placed with an
unaffiliated interfaith couple. I love my parents very much, but I
wish I had had more information about my background (my Jewish
background, my medical background, and my family background) before
this. I have it now, through my own slow “return” to the Judaism I
never knew, and through conversations with my birth parents (I met my
biological father two years ago).
Dr. Randy Severson, agency psychologist and administrator at the
Cradle of Hope Agency in Texas for 12 years, has counseled thousands
of prospective parents and tens of thousands of people individually or
in groups who have been touched by adoption.
He says, "I've never
worked with a prospective couple that didn't find a baby if they
really wanted to. Begin with that. The child is already born in your
heart, so despite your desperation, begin even during the adoption
process to act as an advocate for yout child. Your ethical
responsibility is to be a force for good. The two main ways you can
manifest that are, first, don't let your child be treated as a
commodity, even if you feel it speeds up the adoption process; second,
don't cut your child off from other people who love him or her, don't
pit yourself against the birth family, because as the advocate for the
child you want your child to have access to his or her cultural
history."
You might ask, "Will
the child know the difference if the adoption story he/she is told is
the true one?" No, but in adulthood they may. For example, in
Scotland, where adoption records have been open since 1938, over 20%
of adult adoptees have chosen to search for their biological parents.
But elsewhere, under the conditions of independent adoption, recording
and preserving an adoptee's original birth certificate (with the
biological parent's name on it), and an accurate family history, are
much more difficult.
Advocacy implies
concrete actions like asking questions about where your money goes
and where the baby comes from. Make sure that the birth mother in a
private adoption gets real counseling, not just bullying from your
lawyer, so that her decision is the result of genuine informed
consent. Gail*, an adoption counselor for New Jersey's Children's Aid
and Adoption Services, reports getting an urgent message from a newly
delivered birth mother at Glover* General Hospital. An adoption
attorney had elicited from someone on the hospital staff the names of
all the single mothers on the maternity floor, and he was visiting
them unannounced and uninvited with briefcase in hand. He was
"counseling" them to give up their babies because they "wouldn't be
able to handle it out there alone."
Adult adoptees'
rights groups representing birth mothers are battling state-by-state
with the Academy of Adoption Attorneys over this. They feel that the
Academy is essentially fighting to open new business markets, and that
adoption attorneys face a conflict of interest such that they cannot
provide impartial counseling to birth mothers when it may jeopardize
the adoption - which for the attorney is a potential source of income.
If you are an
adoptive parent and you make promises to a birth mother, keep them,
whether they are big things like maintaining an open adoption or
"small" things like sending annual pictures of the child she gave
you. (Who knows - with growing sophistication in DNA-typing or some
other kind of technology it may be possible in the future for any
adopted person to find his or her birth mother anywhere and to hear
the birth mother's version of the adoption procedures; you do not want
to do anything now that could come back to haunt you.)
Kathy Marangos, an
adoption attorney in New Jersey and an adoptee herself, suggests,
"Think long and hard about your motivation before changing an older
child's first name, and make sure you have their genuine agreement."
"Gather as much
family information as you can, even in an overseas adoption," suggests
Jane Nast, an adoptive mother of two and the legislative director of
the American Adoption Conference in Washington, D.C. "Please don't
think it's not important, because you can't predict the future."
Gather what you can now so you can provide in the best interests of
the child."
Jewish Children Need
Homes
This leads me to the
most astonishing news you are likely to hear amidst the swirl of facts
and figures: most adoptable Jewish children and infants do not find
Jewish homes, according to Stephen Krausz, co-founder with his wife,
Vicki, of the Colorado-based Jewish Children's Adoption Network (JCAN).
"At adoption
conferences we often have Christian parents come up to us and
introduce their cute Jewish child and say, 'Look, he was Jewish.'
Unless a Jewish birth mother becomes proactive by deciding to use a
Jewish adoption agency or to choose the adoptive parents of her child
through private adoption, a child who is born Jewish and placed for
adoption is not guaranteed a Jewish home. It is simply not a top
priority for social workers at non-Jewish adoption agencies. The
Jewish community has not created the kind of pressure that the
African-American community has through the Organization of Black
Social Workers or that the American Indian Nations have through
passage of the Indian Child Welfare Act of 1978 to ensure that black
and tribal children remain within their communities when possible."
One persistent
statistic that has been recycled over and over in the Jewish press
(and it is always unattributed) is that for every adoptable infant
there are 40 waiting couples. Tom Kaplan*, an adoptive father of two
pre-schoolers, puts the figure "40 waiting couples" into better
perspective when he explains that he and his wife "must have put our
names on over 30 agency waiting lists before we found our kids, so,
yeah, you may have 40 couples on a list for each baby, but I can
guarantee you that none of those couples is on just one list."
The Krauszes suspect
that the small size and interconnectedness of the Jewish community may
actually work to its disadvantage when it comes to adoption: Jewish
birth mothers who want to safeguard their own privacy may hesitate to
go to a Jewish agency where they may be known. In fact most of the
Jewish children that are referred by agencies to the JCAN are referred
by non-Jewish agencies. Stephen Krausz believes that Jewish agencies
have not sought out Jewish children actively enough. When he
contacted New Jersey's Division of Youth and Family Services, for
example, to try and convince them to consider a child's Jewish
heritage in determining placement, he was told, "We have no Jewish
children." He wondered how that could be. In Colorado, which has
only one-eighth the Jewish population of New Jersey, he finds at least
ten adoptable children a year. "Shouldn't there be 180 Jewish
children a year available in New Jersey alone?"
The majority of the
"healthy" children that are listed by the Jewish Children's Adoption
Network are bi-racial Jews. They are more likely than white babies to
be placed for adoption by their Jewish birth families and, at the same
time, less likely to be adopted by other Jews, according to the
Krauszes. Yes, the Jewish community is guilty of that ecumenical
bogeyman: racism.
Racism and Jewish
Diversity
Obviously, a
community's racism affects any non-Caucasian adopted child whether she
is a Jew by birth or by conversion. One rule of thumb that JFS has
suggested is that if you find a congregation that is welcoming to
Jews-by-choice and interfaith couples, you will have found one that
holds more enlightened views on adoptions, including trans-racial
ones. Karen Rispoli, whose ten-year-old daughter is from Korea, chose
to affiliate with a congregation where "she wouldn't have to choose
between identities as a Korean-Jewish-American adoptee."
Dr. Howard Altstein,
a professor of social work at the University of Maryland, is currently
beginning a study of trans-racial adoptions in the Jewish community and
believes that Jewish parents, being a minority themselves, may be able
to bring extra sensitivity to handling the needs of adopted children
whose race makes them a minority in the U.S.
A suggestion adoption
counselors make to all parents who adopt trans-racially is that they
should think of themselves as a "multi-racial" family. It's a subtle
but important distinction from thinking of yourself as a white couple
with non-white children. If you begin to think of yourself as part of
a multi-racial unit you are more likely to buy a house in an
integrated neighborhood and have family friends with various
backgrounds, all of which will be easier on your child.
Jewish educators act
in the best interests of the child when they emphasize that the family
called the Jewish people is in fact "multi-racial." In other words,
stress that Judaism is a religion, not a race, and kehillot,
Jewish communities, come in many colors, including black Jews from
Ethiopia and African-Americans who have chosen Judaism.
Other folk cultures
have always enriched the celebration of Judaism, and your child's
birth heritage can help do that, too. For example, the harvest
festival of China, Korea, and Vietnam, which is called the Mid-autumn
Festival, coincides with the Jewish festival of Sukkoth two years out
of every three (because both are based on similar lunar calendars).
That makes it a natural opportunity to include the sweet mooncakes and
storytelling of an East Asian adoptee's heritage as part of your
Sukkoth celebration. There are books that survey the Jewish history
of almost every country of the world, including China and India, and
these may help adoptive parents meld their child's birth culture with
their own.
Jewish Adoption
Rituals
There are Jewish
rituals that recognize and welcome adoption itself as a part of the
life cycle. Jewish tradition already has blessings to celebrate new
occasions, circumcisions, and conversions. The Reform movement’s
Gates of Mitzvah includes services similar to baby-namings that
are designed to honor the adoption either of an infant or an older
child. Many new parents choose to expand and personalize their
ceremony, using lines from the Talmud that validate adoptive
parenthood or Psalm 80, which gave us the modern Hebrew word for
adoption, ametz. The original meaning was “to graft or to
strengthen,” which suggests a very organic image of adoption.
But Jewish tradition
does not cover all the life cycle events involved in adoption. Bobbie
and Laurie Baron created a special service “for accepting the loss of
our dream of having a biological child” (in Rabbi Debra Orenstein’s
anthology, Lifecycles, Volume 1). It closes with a havdalah
ceremony that separates the dark time of their focusing on infertility
treatments to the light time in the future in which they may either
choose to remain childless, but still a family, or to adopt.
Reunion between birth
parents and adult adoptees has not commonly been marked by ritual.
For the past three years, a group of several dozen adoptive parents,
birth parents, and adult adoptees have celebrated an “adoption seder”
I wrote with guidance from Rabbi Donald Rossoff of Temple B’nai Or in
Morristown, New Jersey. It draws on the lifelong relationship between
Moses and his adoptive Egyptian mother, who chose to join his Hebrew
birth family when the Children of Israel crossed the Red Sea and left
Egypt.
One of the “four
questions” we ask at the adoption seder is: “Why is it that the
adoptive mother of Moses chose to follow her adopted son?” The answer
I give is found in Deuteronomy (10:16 and 30:6). These passages
contrast Moses to Abraham. Where Abraham bound the Jewish community
through the blood-tie of circumcision, Moses the Adoptee taught the
Israelites a new kind of bond, literally “circumcision” – or more
poetically, “opening” – of the heart. Moses and his Egyptian mother
were not bound by blood but by a mutual opening of the heart. The
Jewish community may need to re-experience an “opening of the heart”
for the largest group of Jewish children who are waiting to be
adopted. These children have been labeled “special needs.”
Of the “special
needs” children listed by JCAN, about a third have “emotional
problems” like attachment disorder and are older, or have suffered
neglect or abuse. Another 25%-30% of the “special needs” children
have Down’s syndrome. The remaining third tend to be newborns with
birth defects ranging from cystic fibrosis to something more minor
like cleft palate or club foot.
JCAN gets about 1,000
phone inquiries a year, but only 20% of their application forms are
returned to them, because JCAN explains up front in their literature
that over 85% of the Jewish children they help are “special needs.”
The label alone scares away most adopters. Krausz argues that many of
the children Jews adopt from overseas have the same “special needs” as
these Jewish children, but that these just have not yet been
diagnosed.
That view was
elaborated on by Elsa Weinstein, a pre-adoption workshop organizer for
British Columbia’s Ministry of Family and Children, and the mother of
one adopted son and one biological son, who said “Overseas they’re
just as likely to have attachment disorders or fetal alcohol syndrome,
but because the kids don’t have a [recorded] history, it’s easier for
prospective parents to fantasize. |