Why Ontario’s adoption law had to be changed
To be valid, social policy must be based on experience and evidence, not fear, says Sandra Pupatello
There has been much discussion about the Ontario government’s plan to change the information we provide to adoptees and birth parents about their past. Most of this discussion has focused on privacy issues for birth mothers who are concerned about exposing their past.
But what of the other side of the story –– the deep- seated need for answers to questions that many people have about their personal history? Why, over the last seven years, have there been no fewer than seven bills introduced in the Legislature to open adoption information laws? Why has the Ontario Association of Children’s Aid Societies supported our legislation? Why have I received more than 800 pieces of mail about our proposed changes, 80 per cent of which support our efforts? If there’s so much support for greater openness in providing adoption information, why isn’t this side of the story being discussed?
It’s easy for people to relate to concerns about having no control over having their personal information shared. In these days of rapid information sharing, we can all relate to this fear, even if nothing actually happens.
It is not as easy to relate to the other side — persistent questions with no answers. Many of us never wonder whether our eye colour is our mother’s or father’s, or whether our family has a history of cancer. Most adoptees aren’t that lucky. And what about empathizing with a birth parent? How many of us ever have to wonder what happened to a child we gave away years ago?
It isn’t easy to understand the hole that it can leave in your life. Yet, when we hear stories of families whose children disappear, we do understand, because we can relate to the fear of losing a loved one, or of not being able to ensure that one’s child is safe and in good care. Why would it be different for a birth mother? Many women of previous generations say they were forced to give up children born out of wedlock and weren’t given a choice. Those mothers who had a choice usually gave their children up to give them a better life. Isn’t it natural, then, for them to wonder how their child is doing, and whether he or she is happy, healthy and safe?
Birth parents and adoptees simply want access to the same information that the rest of us take for granted. They simply want the ability to come to peace with their past, to know the facts and face the future with fewer questions.
I know not every adoption story fits the scenarios I’ve described. There are stories of neglect and abuse, and of birth mothers who want to leave their past in the past. Our legislation recognizes this as well. Where adoptees or birth parents have concerns for their safety, they can apply to keep information concealed. Even if safety issues are not at stake, either party can put a “ no contact” notice on their file so that the person who receives their identifying information is prohibited from ever getting in touch with them.
This provision provides balance and recognizes that nobody has the right to pursue an unwelcome relationship. Some people say the “no contact” provision won’t provide adequate protection and should be replaced by a disclosure veto. But again, this is based on conjecture, not fact.
In New South Wales, Australia, authorities updated their adoption information laws and did not include a disclosure veto. When they reviewed the legislation two years later, it was working so well that no veto was added, even when they had the chance.
Simply put, the rhetoric about the need for disclosure vetoes does not line up with reality. What the debate about adoption disclosure has shown is that decisions about social policy are not black and white. When Ontario began sealing its adoption records 80 years ago, it was introducing a social policy that it felt was right for the times. But to be relevant, social policies must change as society changes. To be defensible, social policy must be based on experience and evidence, not fear.
It’s time to move Ontario’s social policy forward. Ontario’s adoptees and birth parents don’t live in the 1920s. It’s time our adoption information laws didn’t either. Sandra Pupatello is Ontario’s Minister of Community and Social Services.