As ever the topic of interracial adoption is a complex one, one that makes the headlines in the New York Times on the same day – link here.

I think the title of the NY Time summarises the whole thing correctly. Yes race (and indeed religion) do matter. They are part of a child’s identity, and it will stay way into adulthood. In an ideal world therefore we would want to match a child with the same ethnicity and why not religion parents. But guess what? We don’t live in that ideal world. We live in one where that choice isn’t always possible and the alternative to that ‘perfect match’ is a life in care shunted around the foster care system with multiple placements (in the majority of cases with temporary carers of a different ethnicity and religion anyway).

After that? The prospects are bleak. Crime, prostitution and homelessness are too often the only future for young adults leaving care as pointed out in our report from last year. 

To say that I found Nick Ferrari obnoxious in the interview would be an underestimation of my actual feelings towards him. Apparently he is amazed that I trust social services to be the ones to be making the right decision in the interest of the child. Who else would be? The birth family who had a total of three children removed from their custody and given for adoption?

In his biased view it should have been taken into account that four sets relatives of the biological mother came forward to adopt, and on top of that they were Muslim. How perfect blood related and same religion.

Should that have been a decisive factor? Being of a specific religion or even ‘blood related’ does not make anyone suitable to adopt.

Worse so Nick and a lot of the press around this specific case were clearly making a point that ‘on top of that’ the white women were lesbians too. So let’s throw everything in the pot why not?

This is going to get really boringly cliché now. What children need is the permanent love of doting parents. When that is provided by biological same ethnicity and religion parents that is great. When that is not possible then the next best available match has to be found to ensure the best interest of the child in paramount. In that case, dare I say like mine with two Mexican children, cultural needs of children can be met by different-race parents who are committed to the best interests of their child.

So that children are not made to pay for having been born in a family which for whatever reason couldn’t provide for them (in this case mental illness) and then for being of the wrong skin colour and or religion.

Being left behind languishing in a care system waiting endlessly not just for ‘a’ muslim family but ‘the right’ muslim family will never be the right alternative to a permanent loving family. Now.

It was horrible. It made you feel small. And useless. That’s nothing compared to how it feels to not be adopted. As I write adoption in the UK is in a sadly dysfunctional state. The system is broken and it means that there are thousands of children awaiting adoption- 4000 approximately at present. In the past year, there were less than 300 adoptions.

It’s not for lack of potential parents either. Each year there are hundreds of couples who apply and go through one of the most searching processes just to be allowed to adopt. And often they give up.

Why? Because local authorities and councils are applying rules of their own making, something is wrong. The authority vacuum and the lack of any leadership on the part of the government means that it takes at least 2 years and 7 months for a child to be adopted. But first they have to be removed from the family that can’t or won’t look after them. And that isn’t happening because the system thinks that keeping a child in a family that can’t or won’t love them is better than finding them someone who will.

By the time a child is adopted they may be around four years old.

By the time a child reaches five, it is put into the too hard basket and is less likely to be adopted.

And if you’re a black or mixed race child, forget it. It probably won’t happen.

These children will have suffered first at the hands of a family that neglected them and secondly at the hands of social workers and local authorities who simply have no motivation to place children with new families. Instead they try to keep them in the place that has made their childhood a memorable one for the wrong reasons.

You can make a difference. Please, please respond to this by clicking here and signing our petition and urging your friends and colleagues to do the same.

For their sake.

This was reported in The Times yesterday by Social Affairs Correspondent Rosemary Bennett who used my experiences as a case study saying:

“Ofsted’s new inspection regime may in future allow couples like Francesca and Rick Polini to adopt children from care.

“Turned down by Ealing council, West London, where they live, because so few white children in care were seeking adoptive families and they were considered unsuitable to adopt an ethnic minority child, they went on to adopt two children from Mexico. Mrs Polini, 41, wrote Mexican Takeaway about their experiences.

“‘The Government has made a start … it remains to be seen if local authorities will follow it,’” she said.

Thank you again to The Times for being so proactive in promoting the desperate need for a fairer adoption system in the UK which I totally support, and thank you for giving my book a great plug!

Chapter 2, Does Your Cat Speak Spanish?
“Do I look OK?” Rick said as he came into the bedroom, wearing his cream suit and his best tie.
“Uh oh. Cream?”
“I don’t want to wear a dark one. It doesn’t seem friendly enough; too businesslike. They might think I don’t have time for children if I wear that.”
I’d never seen Rick this anxious. He was normally so calm and composed about absolutely everything.
“I think I want to marry you all over again. It means a lot that you’re going along with me on this.”
“Fra, I believe in adoption too. I am not going along with you just because you are stubborn, which you are! I can totally see the point, but I want to know more and see if it is for us. I’m our left brain, remember?”
I collapsed in giggles on the bed. Rick bounced over and gave me a huge hug.
“Careful, you’ll crease the suit.”
“Shut up, you.”
We kissed, then lay there just holding each other close for a while. I had opted for a more casual look than Rick. Smart jeans, a long blue cardigan, and a pair of boots instead of recycled shoes. It was freezing again. In the car, I asked him: “Where do you think you are in your heart, Rick?”
“I find it frustrating that they have to decide for us that we cannot adopt locally. It’s not like there are no children who need a family here in London.”
“I mean what about adoption? How do you feel about it now?”
“I think if we decide it’s worth a shot, we should start the adoption and try to have natural children at the same time.”
“And then let the Universe decide which one is right first.”
“I knew you’d say that! You and your Universe!”

There were times when Rick’s pragmatism and my spiritual outlook clashed, but on the whole our combination worked. We filed into a room with the other couples who were doing the training. There was tea, coffee and biscuits on offer. Everyone seemed very shy. This wasn’t surprising, since for most couples choosing adoption is a public admission that they can’t have children.
We were invited into a room and directed to a circle of chairs. I chose to sit next to a woman who appeared to be alone. Rick sat on the other side of me, munching a biscuit.
“This is what it must be like attending a twelve-step programme,” he whispered.
“Sshh! Someone might hear you!”
The two trainers arrived and introduced themselves. They were both women, and they exuded warm energy. One had an endless mane of hair and wore a long hippie skirt. With her big eyes and enormous glasses, she reminded me of a cartoon character from A Bug’s Life. The other woman wore a suit and smart flat shoes, and sported an elegant short bob.
“Hello everyone, and well done for arriving on time in such bad weather. It shows this means a lot to you. We are trainers for this course, and also we are both international adopters. I have two Bolivian children, and Susan has a Chinese girl as well as a natural one.”
“Oh, good,” I whispered to Rick. “They’ve actually done it.”
“At the end of today you will have understood more about the process, and we will file a report for your council to say whether or not we feel you are ready to start the Home Study.”
No pressure then. We were asked to introduce ourselves and say a little about why we were there. I realised suddenly that we would be putting ourselves on show in public for the first time. Amongst the couples talking about their fertility problems, multiple miscarriages, and failed attempts at in vitro fertilization, we would stick out. God, what were we doing here? Did we have a right to be in that room? I felt slightly ashamed when it was my turn to speak.
“For all intents and purposes we can conceive, but we feel strongly that adoption should play a big part for various reasons.”

It turned out the single woman next to me, who was a Spanish journalist, had also decided on adoption, even though she could have children. At the end of the introduction, one of the trainers gestured towards us and said:
“The three of you are called preferential adopters. This means that you have chosen to build your family via adoption and not because of fertility issues. The rest of you are traditional adopters.”
“What if we wanted to adopt and try and have natural children too?” asked the Spanish lady.
Thank God she asked that one.I was dying to know but didn’t want to appear too radical or anything.
The woman from A Bug’s Life answered.
“You can’t do that. If you happen to fall pregnant during the Home Study you will have to stop the adoption, have your baby, and wait until he or she is at least three years of age before you can start the process all over again. If you have a miscarriage, you will have to wait for two years to grieve and overcome the trauma.”
Two years to overcome a miscarriage! How did they work that out?
“How do you even know if we are trying, anyway?” I joked.
“Your life will never be the same, my dear, once you say yes to the adoption process. Believe me, it’ll feel like a crowd of people are watching you having sex.”
Laughter from around the room. “Seriously, guys, your entire life will be scrutinised every step of the way. Nothing will pass unnoticed.”

Later, when we were let out for lunch, we sat with the Spanish woman and three other couples in a nearby deli, conducting a post-mortem on the morning’s proceedings.
“So which country do you think you would like to adopt from?” asked the Spanish lady.
“We would like to adopt from Russia because my husband has blond hair and mine is dark, so we figured that whether the baby is from the eastern or western part of the country, it will look like one of us,” said one woman.
“We’re going for China, as we want a baby girl at any cost, and all babies for adoptions are girls,” said another woman.
“Anyway, as if I’m going to stop trying in the meantime!” said
Michelle. She and her husband Simon had already attempted I.V.F. a few times.
“What was that all about? What gives them the right to be all Stasi-like about sex?” I said.
“No disrespect to you guys,” said the single Spanish lady, looking around the table, “but it seems almost as if adoption is an industry for infertile people. Unlike those of us who choose, often in your cases it’s a second best, right?”
She may as well have thrown a hand grenade. It was clear that at least one couple were taking her comment personally. The table went quiet.
“Oh, look at the time,” said Rick. “We’d better get back.”
The rest of the day was spent in various exercises, scenarios, and conversations about the pitfalls and challenges of the adoption process. At the end of the day, one of the trainers looked around at us all and said: “It won’t be the same for all of you, and some will handle it better than others. But it’s neither an easy ride nor a short one. You have anything from two to four years ahead of you from this moment. But I am sure you will all be fine. Good luck.”
I felt like I do when my Chinese doctor sticks a million needles in my face, tummy, ears and neck, then calmly says, “You can sleep now till I am back.”
Really?

For Francesca Polini and her husband, Rick, the process was heartbreaking. They deliberately chose not to have children of their own, but instead to offer a home to a couple of children in care waiting to be adopted.
Mrs Polini was taken aback when social workers at Ealing council in West London, where she lives, told her that their services were not required.

“I was told over the phone, without even an interview or face-to-face meeting, that all the children in Ealing needing to be adopted were black or mixed-race and there was a cap on the number of white couples they wanted to approve, and that number had been reached,” she told The Times.

“I was really shocked. It was made clear we could not be considered for anyone other than a white child, and there was no suggestion that neighbouring local authorities may need white couples and I should go there instead. The social worker suggested we try for overseas adoption instead. Apparently it didn’t matter about the child being from a different ethnic group as long as it came from abroad.”

The couple did just that, and after an emotional rollercoaster ride became the first British couple to adopt from Mexico. Mrs Polini, 41, has written a book, Mexican Takeaway, about the experience. They have a daughter, Gaia, 3, and a son Luca, aged six months.

Although they are happy with their family, they still feel they had a lot to offer children in care in this country.

“It didn’t hit me until after we had adopted Gaia how ridiculous it is to tell a couple they cannot adopt because they are white. With local authorities it seems to be colour first, and then what religion your are, rather than whether you are ready and prepared to look after a child.

“The Government has made a start with new guidance but it remains to be seen whether local authorities will follow it. I think there won’t be any significant progress unless they scrap the local authority-based system altogether and have one national agency in charge.”

I would like to say a heartfelt ‘thank you’ to The Times for the tremendous support they are giving to help young children find loving and stable homes.

This is so complicated it is hard to know where to begin, except to feel dreadfully sorry for the couple. Turning to the general question of surrogacy, I will lay my cards on the table now and say that personally, I do have a problem with the concept. For me it is another example of a consumer world where anything is available at a price. For me surrogacy does not seem to be about wanting to be a family but rather about ‘wanting a baby.’

While I understand there are many ways to become a parent including adoption, IVF or remarrying someone who already has children I do struggle with the moral issues around surrogacy. Is it morally right to pay someone to be pregnant for you? I know I’m not the first to ask that question and there are better minds on the job, but nonetheless it is a tough call.

For me it isn’t, just as it wasn’t right for the corrupt Mexican lawyer we met during our travels to adopt our daughter, to organise payment for poor women to have children by the same father so that couples could adopt children who were already a ‘family’ and looked alike. This is explained in my book Mexican Takeaway.  Both situations are troubling because they are all about the needs of the parents and have nothing to do with caring for children. For the lawyer it was supply meeting demand.

It’s not just surrogacy that is the problem. It’s the fact that because it’s possible to buy something on the open market, then it is automatically assumed that it is okay to do so. You’re seventy, have money and want a baby? Sure, there’s an IVF doctor somewhere who will do it for you. Never mind about the child and their future past teenager hood with no living parent. Are you a wealthy single woman who has no need for a father but just wants someone with perfect genes? Get down to the clinic and for a tidy sum you too can have that perfect child injected into you.

What is right and what is wrong?  Have we crossed a line so far we can’t see that we’ve commoditised babies into a business?