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SG to RP:Closing letter - 2022/1146 (Timmermans)

SG-DOSSIERS-ACCES@ec.europa.eu

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Fri, Oct 7, 5:10 PM (19 hours ago)

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Kindheitsarchive by Caroline Guiela Nguyen

A table, pastel-coloured wallpaper, a play corner for children. Behind it, shelves full of archive folders. We are in an »lnternational Office for Childhood«, an invented place that the French-Vietnamese author and director Caroline Guiela Nguyen came up with after researching for many months in youth welfare offices, agencies for foreign adoption, and meeting people who work there or were adopted themselves. Different life paths cross at this place: a mother finally meets the boy who is to become her son after long years of waiting. He is seven years old and comes from Vietnam. A young teenage girl goes in search of her roots. A grandfather worries about her grandson’s future. They meet the stories of the women who keep this office alive, always aware of their own doubts and questions, their own great responsibility: How do you decide who deserves to be a parent? That it is really best to remove a child from their roots? Wanting to do the right thing does not mean that one cannot be wrong. From Cameroon to Vietnam, from Russia to Germany: Caroline Guiela Nguyen also questions a certain world view, our relationship to other cultures, other people, and the family.

For several years, international adoptions have been increasingly regulated due to abuses by several organizations around the world, but also due to the fact that adult adoptees have spoken out. The best interests of the child and the principle of subsidiarity must be at the centre of every decision. A child may only be placed for adoption abroad if no adoptive parents can be found in the child’s own country. But this precaution unfortunately does not solve all the other questions that adoptions from abroad raise: How is one supposed to grow up and develop an identity with two different first names, with different histories of origin? How does one manage to grow up without the feeling of having been mercifully saved, of having to pay off an eternal debt?

Caroline Guiela Nguyen and her company Les Hommes Approximatifs are developing a production with actresses from the Schaubu?hne ensemble for the first time.

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VPRO documentary prize 2022 to Filho - VPRO

The VPRO documentary prize 2022 was awarded to the Filho crew on Friday 7 October. The documentary tells the personal story of filmmaker Tomas Ponsteen, who was adopted from Brazil as a baby in 1994. The prize was awarded for the fifteenth time by the VPRO to the best graduation documentary of the Dutch Film Academy.

In Filho , Tomas Ponsteen focuses on the question: is it a duty of every adoptee to find his or her biological mother? Even if you don't feel that need at all?

Tomas was adopted as a baby from Brazil. He is satisfied with his life as it is now and does not feel the need to look for his biological mother. But there is much to be done about adoption, and the abuses are great.

With every news item the question arises: what if I have not been surrendered voluntarily? And above all: shouldn't I investigate why I don't feel the need to search? These questions are the starting point for a series of impressive encounters.

verdict of the jury

Ireland Opens Decades of Secret Records to Adoptees

Thousands of people are being promised new rights to information, a potentially momentous step in a country where unmarried mothers were pressured for decades to give up their babies.

DUBLIN — For tens of thousands of people who were adopted in Ireland — or gave up children for adoption there, often under heavy pressure — knowledge that for decades was shrouded in secrecy and shame may now be a mouse-click away.

The Irish government introduced an online service this week that for the first time promises adopted people born in Ireland, wherever they now live, the right to see any information the state holds about them — including the names of their birth mothers. It also offers a free tracing service for anyone, including birth mothers, trying to find relatives lost to them through Ireland’s adoption system.

The authorities are permitted up to 30 days to respond to requests, and adoption rights activists are waiting to see how well the service works. But they say it has the potential to be a significant step in reckoning with a painful national legacy of mistreatment of unmarried mothers and their children.

Over decades, ending as recently as 1998, thousands of pregnant and unmarried women and girls in Ireland were confined to church-run “mother and baby homes,” where they were expected and often pressured to give up their babies after birth. An official inquiry published last year acknowledged poor conditions, high death rates and abuses at the institutions.

Friends Annick, An Sheela and Sheela are all adopted

Friends Annick (37), An Sheela (42) and Sheela (41) lead different lives, but have one thing in common: all three were adopted from India. and they know what you struggle with when you don't know exactly where you come from. “Adoption is not always a fairy tale.”


Recognition and recognition

“Recognition and acknowledgment. I find that with An Sheela and Sheela and all those other adopted children from our Facebook community. For example, if I say, "I don't know exactly who I am," they know exactly what I mean by that. It is something that unites us. What problems do you face if you don't know who your biological parents are? How does it feel when the start of your life is unclear and what you know about it may be based on lies? What do you struggle with? These are things that we discuss when we see each other during meeting days.” Annick is speaking. In 2008, she was only fifteen when she wanted to meet other adopted children. Together with her mother, she founded the Facebook group Adoption Link, for children adopted from India and their parents. Initially a friendly group that exchanged messages and saw each other occasionally, years later it became a more serious community. On which members post messages and photos, but which also organizes and undertakes all sorts of things.
The club received more and more members from the Netherlands and Belgium. At a certain point, Annick was no longer able to manage everything on her own. In 2017 she asked An Sheela to help, and a year later Sheela too. The three of them are trying to take the Facebook group to an even higher level. Together they organize meeting days and information evenings about DNA tests, for example. The three also fight against illegal adoption in their home country Belgium. Even though their adoption stories are completely different, the trio feels connected to each other and to the members of their community.
Annick: “In the fourteen years that I have been working on this, the adopted children have grown up. Many have started families or have now made a roots trip to India. Sometimes they find what they are looking for, but often it is impossible. India is a very large country and the government discourages adopted children from searching for their biological parents. It is simply not done. The moral is: let the past be.”

Terminally ill

“I was four and a half years old when I came here from India. I had a fantastic childhood, I was able to study and was given all kinds of opportunities to develop myself. But I also wondered where I came from, who my parents were. My mother's name was known, I knew nothing about my father. About five years ago I had my DNA registered with an international DNA bank. I was lucky enough to find a brother and an uncle that way. Through them I found out that my father was still alive. I was pregnant with my son at the time, he is now almost four years old.
My father turned out to be terminally ill, he suffered from a muscle disease. If I wanted to see him again, I had to hurry. I traveled to India and visited him. He had a baby picture of me in his wallet, all crumpled up, but still. That little detail touched me: for me it was a sign that I belonged to him. I also recognized something of myself in him. My father was emotional, he felt guilty about how things turned out in the past. He couldn't take care of me. On the other hand, he was also down to earth: things go the way they go and you can't change the past. He didn't want to talk about my biological mother.
Meeting my father was nice. Searching for someone for thirty years and seeing him just before his death is a gift. He was able to answer many of my questions, although the reunion also raised new questions. Is the muscular disease he suffered from hereditary? What was the relationship like between him and my mother? The latter in particular is a matter of guesswork. But I can't complain. I realize very well that I know more than most of us. An Sheela and Sheela, for example, both have no concrete connection with their biological parents.”

Weakening biological mother’s right to privacy may lead to a rise in the number of child abandonment cases

A parliamentary panel has found that a rise in the number of child abandonment cases may lead to a rise in the number of illegal adoptions.

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Why was the adoption process in the news recently?

The Parliamentary Panel on the Review of Guardianship and Adoption Laws has recommended a district-level survey of orphaned and abandoned children, given the huge mismatch in the number of children available for adoption in Specialized Adoption Agencies (“SAA”) and the persons in line to become adoptive parents. Even though a large number of children are orphaned or abandoned, very few find their way in the formal adoption process.

The need of the hour, therefore, is the easing of the adoption process and the disincentivization of child abandonments. For parents who no longer wish to keep a child, a spree of social considerations may stymie their decision to surrender their child to an SAA, and abandonment may seem an easier choice. One such consideration is the anticipated future repercussions of the decision to surrender, especially in the absence of a guarantee against public dissemination of its information. A root search lies exactly at the heart of this consideration, which is an adoptee’s search for their biological parent in pursuit of obtaining knowledge of their identity, biological heritage and their sense of self.

My Family: Miranda (49) single-handedly adopted Mica (5) from Haiti

How a family lives together varies by country and culture, but the standard family of husband, wife and children is no longer the norm. Living together with several partners, adult children, grandchildren, adopted or foster children, eight cats or three dogs: in this series people talk about their families. This week: Miranda Tollenaar (49), who single-handedly adopted daughter Mica (5) from Haiti.

By Hannah König

Miranda Tollenaar had a traditional picture in mind: marry a nice man, four children. Her great wish was a large family with both biological and adopted children. The pedagogical employee from Arnhem did not meet the love of her life and therefore decided to fulfill her wish to have children alone. Recently, her dream came true: she became the mother of five-year-old Mica from Haiti.

Waited eleven years for an adopted baby

Tollenaar took the time to discover who she was, traveled extensively and worked for charities. She was open to a husband, but the right partner did not come along. Relationships broke down, but her desire to have children remained. "I consciously chose not to let the children pass by me. I decided to go for adoption from abroad on my own. That moment was eleven years ago. How did I survive all this time? I kept thinking : it will take a maximum of two or three years and then I will be a mother."

Adopt India Is Changing The Country's Perception Of Adoption

I was at Chetna Sharma’s home for our monthly beer sessions. Their two little girls, Saanya and Raina, came running to ask if I could take them to watch a game of quidditch. Chetna holds me responsible for their newfound obsession with the world of Harry Potter while Raina is the one who made me fall in love with dogs after the first time she and Tobler assumed their throne on my lap (Tobler uninvited!)

At the tender age of 1.5 years, Raina was found by the local police abandoned on the streets of Uttar Pradesh with a few bruises. Around the same time, the couple, who already had Saanya, had filed their application with the Central Adoption Resource Authority to adopt their second child. As destiny would have it, within 8 months, Raina found herself a loving family in the Sharmas.

As I poured another round, I told Chetna about how they have performed a noble deed by giving a new lease of life to an orphan, instead of producing ‘their own’. To my surprise, she emotively disagreed and said, “No Samyak, it is the other way around. With Raina coming into our lives, we have become so much more compassionate, open and emotionally intelligent. In fact, though she is still young, our decision has had a huge positive impact on Saanya as well. She understands now that love is unconditional.” This is one of the many stories of adoptive families that I have known.

By choosing to adopt, adoptive parents/families embark upon a journey of spiritual growth, contentment, and joy. Yet, in India, the general perception of adoption is quite the opposite. The narrative on adoption as an alternative to family planning either does not exist or is frowned upon in most households. Humans are inherently controlled by their need to reproduce and carry on their bloodlines. The story in India is no different. Yet, what makes the case of India different is the concept of caste. The fear of not being able to carry on their bloodline exists and adopting someone from a different caste may be an absolute no-go for many prospective families. Even if modern couples wish to adopt, the elders in the family may not accept a child out of adoption with concerns about them being from a lower caste or social strata. It is also true that one may be willing to adopt but may not possess the emotional bandwidth to do so. This, however, may be overcome by counselling and training. Moreover, the fear of legal and administrative delays also looms large upon those who wish to adopt and many a time stops them altogether from pursuing this option. While this fear may be somewhat justified due to India’s unyielding bureaucracy, it is important to reiterate that despite the potential hurdles in the process of adoption, it is worth it!

A person’s childhood holds significance in more ways than one can think. The compassion, care, and exposure with which a child is raised can determine the entire course of their lifetime. A child raised in the comforts of a loving home, will not only be able to create a good life for themselves but also contribute to the better good of society. A lack of emotional guidance, resources, and poor quality of education, on the other hand, may potentially create societal threats in the form of petty thieves, drug addicts, and criminals with little other recourse. For adoptive parents/families, adoption can help them evolve as individuals and perhaps even improve their mental health.

[INTERVIEW] Danish adoptees demand Korean gov't to probe dark past of exporting babies

Adoptees say their documents are riddled with misinformation, fabrications

By Lee Hyo-jin

Peter Moller, 48, who was adopted to Denmark from South Korea in 1974, reached out to Korean adoption agency Holt International for the first time in 2011 to search for his roots.

Holt initially told the Danish adoptee that he was born in Seoul. But in subsequent letters, the adoption agency said he was actually born in Daejeon. Moller was then told that his biological mother gave birth to him in Nonsan, South Chungcheong Province on March 16, 1974, which happened to be the same day she brought him to the adoption agency in Seoul.

"How is this possible?" Moller thought. "What is the possibility that a woman who just gave birth to a child could travel across the country to give away the infant?"

Adopted Man Discovers Family After 20 Years When Brother Used His Unusual Name to Track Him Down

An adopted man discovered his biological family after 20 years when his brother tracked him down on Instagram thanks to his unusual first name.

Iverson Poff, 20, was adopted from birth and raised by his adoptive parents—but always wondered who his biological family were.

Iverson, who grew up in Portland, Oregon had a few baby pictures provided by the adoption agency. However it was a closed adoption where adoptive family and the biological family have no contact, and the adoption agency used had long since shut its doors.

It was July 20th however, that he got an Instagram message from a man called Jalen Vickers; he said he was his older brother.

“I have that date tattooed on my arm, because it was so important to me,” said Poff. “I opened the message instantly and I knew straight away who it was. I just knew.”