Long Lost Family, again

I admire those who are able to watch the special ‘mother and baby home’ episodes of Long Lost Family, and I applaud the people who are bringing these stories to light, but I just can’t. Like many adoptees, I find the show emotionally manipulative, ‘trauma porn’ (or worse, adoption propaganda). My life, the information that was hidden from me, the relationships that were denied me, and my emotions—these are not for your entertainment.

As an adoptee, born and adopted in the UK, I am fortunate that I don’t need Long Lost Family or a paid intermediary to find my parents or kept siblings. If I do a DNA test, I’m likely to find some relatives. If I request my birth certificate, I can find my mother’s name. If I request my adoption file, I may find clues to my father’s identity. And a combination of these, along with some adoptee-level internet sleuthing, with or without the help of search angels, often yields results.

The same is not true for those looking for a child or an adopted sibling. If the adoptee has not done a DNA test, they will not find them. They cannot request records, only the help of an intermediary. And this is how it should be—having been forced into a new identity, adoptees should be protected and given agency and autonomy when it comes to contact with family.

And so you will see that in the latest series of Long Lost Family, as well as the two specials just broadcast, not one of the featured stories seems to be about an adoptee seeking their parents or kept siblings. All the searches need an official intermediary. This suggests to me that adoptees do not approach the show unless they are desperate enough (for example, if they want to find a sibling who was also adopted). It also suggests it is a last resort for everyone else—and why would you go through this difficult, emotional process in front of television cameras (and sentimental hosts), unless you had to? In other words it is, despite their protestations to the contrary, exploitative.

The show, of course, would not exist without closed adoption. It has no interest in disrupting the ‘happy adoptee, happy reunion’ trope or in questioning the very system of which it is a part. They certainly do not consult with adoptees—if they did, the show would not be full of nauseating clichés such as ‘chosen’ and ‘did you have a good adoption?’ The specials are a belated attempt to cover what survivors, campaigners, researchers and investigative journalists have been telling us for years. Still, they are another important piece in the growing clamour for recognition and reparation. Soon, a UK government must surely be shamed into listening and acting.