Adoption, 1937 - Susan Isaacs considers the delicate question of the right age to discuss their adoption.

May1937 in Home and School "Readers' Questions"

“H.H.” writes: “The Nursery Years” is one of the books which I most frequently read and re-read, but I did not expect ever to be fortunate enough to be able to ask advice from its author. Now, however, thanks to HOME AND SCHOOL, I can actually do so.

            Probably our particular difficulty is not so unusual as it seems to us. We have one small daughter, whom we adopted when she was a few weeks old. Margaret is just four, very strong –willed, capable and independent. She will allow us to do nothing for her which she can do for herself, I am glad to say, and she is on the whole quite a satisfactory person, though a little inclined to be managing and dictatorial. She is, perhaps, in some ways rather advanced for her age. She likes to listen to such stories as “Water Babies,” ”Alice in Wonderland,”and “Black Beauty,” and has a rather large vocabulary.

            In a few months time we hope to adopt another baby, and are wondering just how to explain things to Margaret. She is longing to have a baby sister, continually talks of how she will help take care of her, and has several times brought part of her weekly pocket money to put in a box in which she knows her father and I are saving up towards the baby’s outfit. 

            We talk quite freely before Margaret of our plans, in which she is keenly interested. So far she has asked no questions about the way in which babies come, which is perhaps quite natural at her age, particularly as she has not happened to come into close contact with any homes in which new babies have arrived. There is no doubt that when the time comes for us to go to the Adoption Home for the new baby Margaret will take the greatest interest in the procedure.

            The gist of our problem is that if Margaret asks no direct questions and we do not volunteer any information, will she conclude that all parents proceed in this way? Would there be any harm done if she did assume this, always provided that as soon as she did begin to ask questions we answered them truthfully?

            Bound up with this of course, are other problems. Is it absolutely necessary that a child should know she has been adopted? We made no secret of Margaret’s adoption at the time, but have since moved to a totally different district, where people naturally assume that she is our own child – I mean in the strict sense – of course she is legally ours. All the Adoption Society seem to advise that the children should be told, but isn’t it possible that it might give the child a feeling of inferiority. I am very anxious, and so is my husband, that our children should not feel that they are in any way odd, or different from all the other children they know. Up till now Margaret’s world has been so happy and secure that she has shown no signs of fears or anxieties, and we are most anxious not to upset this stability.

            If you will give us the benefit of your knowledge of the psychology of a four-year-old, and advise us how best to deal with the situation we shall be most grateful.”

Those who suggest it is always best to tell an adopted child the truth about the nature of the relationship are surely right. To know the truth in this situation certainly has its difficulties for the child and it would not do to overlook or underestimate them. But such difficulties need not be so deep or do far-reaching as those which arise from not being told the truth. If and when the child is told the facts (and you can never be sure that he will not be given them, by someone at some time, perhaps in a quite unforeseen and accidental manner), the sense of having been deceived about such a vital matter cuts the roots of his feeling of security in life. If that may happen without one’s knowing it, anything may happen! The next moment may open a gulf between one’s feet at any point, and nobody can be wholly trusted. The shock and grief of learning that one had lost both one’s own parents must always be great; but to offset this, there is the fact that here are two other people, a loving ‘father’ and “mother” who have sought one out and created a happy home, and who behave as if one were really their “own” child. Surely that must always be a very great support and comfort. But, if after happy years in the adopted home, the child suddenly learns from an outsider that his supposes parents are not his own, there is added to the shock and distress of this fact a strange bewilderment as to why they “deceived him”, and a strong resentment about such deception. Different children have different notions about this. One child may feel that the “parents” were afraid he would not love them if they knew they were not “his own”; another may imagine that they did not want him to love the memory of his own mother and father.  Whatever the underlying reasons may be) and they are probably very complex), the child usually seems to feel resentment at not having been told. It is often quite disastrous for his happiness – and for his foster parents – if he suddenly hears from a playmate or a servant or visitor that he does not really belong to those he calls “father” and “mother”. But if they themselves tell him, they can choose a time and place and manner, telling the fat in such a way as to lessen the child’s distress and give him the comfort and support he needs to adjust himself to the truth. And he always appreciates the truth from loving and understanding people.

            Moreover, it is only in very exceptional circumstances that one can be quite sure that the child does not already know, in some dim and half-realised way – or even in a more definite if unacknowledged way. Doubtless if a child loses his parents in the earliest days of infancy he will not remember them. But if he was a year old or more, he may have some dim memory of them, some awareness of change, which will foster a sense of insecurity all the more if it is not acknowledged and brought out in the open.

             But to say that it is best to share the true facts with the child does not mean that we should tell him without regard to time and place. If one could be reasonably sure that no one from the outside would break the news ungently – and it is very difficult to be reasonably sure of this – then it is often best to choose the middle years of childhood, nine to eleven years, roughly when the child’s feelings are at their most stable. Then he has time to make some adjustment to the situation before the more troubled and sensitive years of adolescence arrive. But with your little Margaret, in the circumstances of your wish to adopt a baby “sister” for her, it may not be too easy to postpone the telling. Since she is a happy and confident child , it is quite possible that she may ask you questions about the way babies come, under the stimulus of this experience. And if, as you rightly suggest, you answer her questions about babies in general, she may ponder about getting her little “sister” from the Home, and then go on to think about herself. It is not possible to predict what will happen in her mind, however – even if one knew her well, one could not do so with any certainty. She may contentedly assume that all babies are obtained from an Adoption Home, and not go into the open questioning to wonder how they got there. Or she may take it for granted that whilst the new baby comes from the outside in this way, she herself is “yours” in a different and more intimate manner. It would be best, as you suggest, to let her take the lead, and whilst answering any questions she may put, not try to force information upon her, or to stimulate her inquiries deliberately. If her questions led to any reflections about her own relation to you, then it would be best to tell her that she came to you in the same way as the little sister – and to speak at the same time of the joy her coming brought to you, and how she comforts you for not having any children of your very own. You could perhaps tell her then something of her real parents – letting her feel that you did not mind her thinking lovingly and regretfully of them, since you know that her love for you is based on her real experiences of your devotion and pleasure in her. If, however, she asks no questions, I certainly do not think it will do any particular harm for her to imagine for the time being that all parents obtain their babies form a supply in a Home. Time and life will gradually correct such a notion. But it would be helpful for her to have some stimulus towards the truth – for instance, a holiday on a farm, or some pet animals of her own which might have babies. That would naturally lead her to ask questions, and give you the chance to help her appreciate the facts more nearly. What is important is that your own attitude should not subtly convey to her the feeling that she must not know the truth, either about babies in general or about her true relation to you. That would check her understanding of life, and inhibit her feelings. And it would not prove a satisfactory basis for her relation to you in later childhood and youth. There is infinitely more chance of your retaining her love and loyalty and her remaining a happy and delightful companion if she feels that you leave her free to learn and understand the true facts, and free to treasure the memory of her own parents alongside her devotion to you.