The Myth of the Mourning Birthmother

I watched her face as she sat across the table from me; it showed no discernable emotion, although her story was a tragedy in every sense of the word.

She described how two years ago she had come to drop off a four-year-old girl at the local orphanage. "I had married a man who already had a daughter," she related, "and so if we wanted to have our own children, I needed to get rid of my daughter." Her "daughter" was a girl she had ostensibly found on the street at a few days old and cared for, as a single mother, for four years. Pressured by her new husband, they had both brought the four-year-old to the orphanage and turned her in as a foundling.

A week later the couple had second thoughts on the wisdom of their actions and returned to the orphanage to retrieve the child. They were told it would cost them 5,000 yuan to do so. Incensed at the orphanage's apparent crassness, they refused and walked away, never to return. The four-year old was later adopted by an American family.

Many adoptive families presume that the abandoning of their child by her birth parents is accompanied by pangs of guilt and remorse. We envision the birthmother watching the abandoned child until discovery is made, tears streaming down her face. We imagine that they deal daily with the guilt of this abandonment, and anxiously wait for the day when they might miraculously receive word that the child is doing well and being loved by a family.

For the rural farmers of China that compose 70% of its population, children are viewed as a two-edged sword. At once creating a drain on precious family resources for food, medical and educational costs, they are also viewed as essential for aged care and family-name perpetuation. Additionally, there is the obvious benefit in providing farm labor.

But the thin line of existence that the majority of Chinese live on, especially in the countryside, has created a culture where love for a child, as we know it here in the West, is hard to come by. Children are seen as serving functions, not birthed for their own sake. It is hard to express the subtle difference, so perhaps an illustration might help.

When I interviewed the two birthmothers last year, both matter-of-factly recounted their stories. There was no tears of remorse, although both expressed some regret that they had abandoned their children. Both acknowledged that if confronted with the same situation again, they would abandon their child again. Neither birthmother was very emotional when recounting her story, but rather showed a sense of consignment. They did what had to be done in both of their situations.

Another example originates in my own family. My wife comes from a farm family of five girls, and each of those girls was at one time or another offered to another family to raise. It started when the oldest daughter was two years old. A local childless couple befriended my wife's parents and was affectionate to my in-laws only child. My wife's parents felt that this childless family could provide a better life than they could, so they offered their daughter to this couple to raise; their only request being that the couple retain their child's family name instead of renaming her. The childless couple refused, and after a few months of caring for this girl they returned the child to my wife's parents. A similar scenario would be repeated for each successive daughter, for different reasons but with the same outcome.

It is also interesting to note that a large percentage of families in China turn over raising of their child(ren) to the grand-parents, while the husband and wife work. For many of these families, the child is with her parents for only a small percentage of the time each year, most especially during New Year's.

Personally, I could not imagine ever giving up my child to another to raise, but then again I don't live in the same financial state that my in-laws did, or that most Chinese families are in. Perhaps if my daily struggle was to simply exist, I would see beyond my own emotional needs for love to the long-term life-opportunities of my child. I don't say the long-term happiness of my child, because I don't think for most Chinese "happiness" is the driving factor in their decisions. Rather education, quality of life, and simple existence seem to be important.

There was no emotional regret in any of these stories, simply an acceptance that life required these decisions. No apologies, no tears, no looking back.

I'm not saying that the Chinese don't love their children, but it is not often the emotionally-invested love that we in the West feel. It is a practical love. It is not a love shown by touch or words, but through deeds. If you love your child in China, you demonstrate it by acts. My wife has never heard the words "I love you" from her parents or siblings, and no one I have met in China has acknowledged saying it to their children or hearing it from their parents. Love is shown by the fixing of a favorite meal, the knitting of a sweater or pair of gloves, or by giving the child to another family to raise in order for the child to have a better life.

Of course each family is different. I have met many Chinese families that coddle their children in love as much as I coddle mine. But speaking generally, I believe that it is dangerous for adoptive parents to project their own emotions onto women in China. When a birthmother is faced with the "unfortunate" birth of a girl, she will do what is viewed to be in the best interest of that child -- the girl will be taken to a family with all boys, or a childless family, or left to be found and brought to the orphanage. It is an act that is understood, and done with little fanfare and emotion. "It had to be done," they might very well answer us if we could ask them why. I believe for most birth mothers, it is felt and recognized that it has to be done, and it is accomplished with little emotion and less regret than we living here in the West often imagine.

I have been the adoptive parent for my daughter Meigon for four years, the same length of time as the woman I interviewed in the opening to this essay. I ask myself if I would ever be willing to bring her to an orphanage in order that I might find favor in the eyes of a woman. I can truthfully say that I would sooner remain single all my life than lose my daughter. That the woman above was able to leave her adoptive daughter at an orphanage is incomprehensible to me. Truthfully, that any woman would leave her child on the street, at a hospital, or at the orphanage is difficult for me to comprehend. I can pretend to understand it, but in the final analysis I am simply forced to project my heritage, my culture, and my emotions onto her. So, while we may try to tell our children that their birth mothers loved them, that they regret having had to give them up, that they probably think about them everyday, in the end it is all our projection. It is what we would do if we were in their situation.

As adoptive parents we should be careful before we assert emotions to our children's birthparents that might be simply our own projections or assumptions. I believe it can be damaging to our children to communicate feelings we think their birthparents had, which possibly they didn't, or don't have. To tell our children, for example, that their birthparents miss them, love them, etc., is simply communicating what we might feel, but does not necessarily communicate the reality of the birthparents. In all probability, they have moved on, looking to the future, and not dwelling on the past.

Culturally that is what they are taught to do.

China's "Boy Imbalance"

A shortened version of this essay was originally posted to A-P-C July 3, 2004, following the release of National Geographic's documentary, "Lost Girls of China".

Much has been written about the growing imbalance between male and female children in China. Official estimates show the surplus of males growing to 25 million by 2030. China has reacted to this problem by instituting several gender-biased programs such as the recent "Care for Girls" program.

But is this imbalance as serious as so many here in the West believe? And is it as serious as the Chinese Government would have its citizens believe? Before answering these questions, let's first look at how the Western media is presenting this problem. I take as a case-study Lisa Ling's "National Geographic Explorer" segment on China and its adoption program, entitled "Lost Girls of China".

Lisa spends considerable energy furthering the misconception regarding China's male "imbalance". Granted, much has been written in the West about the imbalance and its implications for China, but several key things have not been considered in the discussion. Having traveled and lived in China a large percentage of my time over the last six years, I offer you additional facets of this problem.

Lisa spends a little time on the apparent kidnapping of women for sale as "wives" to men "unable to find wives", ostensibly due to a shortage of women due to the one-child policy. In reality, the kidnapping problem has absolutely nothing to do with the one-child policy, a surplus of males, or any other demographic imbalance. It has everything to do with economics: the men who are paying for kidnapped wives are in China's lowest economic segment. Women in China, just like their counter-parts in the West, seek to improve their economic status through marriage. A man with no job, no money, and no future (a key driver in women seeking marriage) will find it very difficult to find a woman willing to marry. Sometimes (and admittedly it is very infrequent) these economically disadvantaged men will act illegally and kidnap a woman to act as his wife. Although this occurs infrequently, it has nothing to do with an imbalance between men and women in China. It is important to remember that prior to the imposition of the one-child policy in 1980, the ratio of men to women was about equal. Thus, the first "children" of the policy are just now reaching the age where they are marrying and having children themselves. In a country the size of China's, it is simply not possible for the population to have shifted so dramatically so quickly that wives are already scarce. In another two decades the imbalance is projected to be 25 million men, or only about 1.6 percent of the entire population. With China's divorce rate at 21% and rising, this small surplus should have no problem finding marriageable partners among the singles and the nearly two million females joining China's divorced population each year.

Lisa also interviews school kids and asks them if there are more boys and girls in their school. Again, this is a very imperfect indicator, since China does not have a "free" public education program. Each parent must pay fees for their children in school (a powerful incentive to obey the one-child policy), and many families, especially in the poorest areas of China, are not able to afford to send their children to school. In this case, there is a preference to males, since it is logically assumed that boys will be able to utilize an education more than girls. Many girls are thus absent from the schools.

Additionally, in the upper "optional" grades after ninth grade, many of the girls drop out to look for work. This was borne out in an interview I had with the high school daughter of a Jiangxi orphanage director. I asked her if there were more boys than girls in her school. She replied that in the lower grades there had been more girls than boys, but now there were fewer girls because so many had left to seek work in the city.

For my part, I have surveyed scores of elementary aged classes, and never seen an imbalance. Neveretheless, I recognize that classroom surveys are a very faulty indicator of population ratios.

So, what is really going on here? Does China have a population imbalance or not? In order for an imbalance to develop, female children would need to be removed from the population. This can be done in two ways: prenatally, or post-natally. The most likely means of removing unborn girls from the population is through abortion. The problem with this solution, however, is that few doctors will disclose the sex of a child to a couple. Lisa shows this in her piece. I have interviewed scores of young couples with newborn children, and not a single couple was able to learn the sex of their child before it was born. The penalties involved for violating this law are severe, including loss of one's profession, fines and jail. Perhaps in cases of close personal relationships would the doctor violate this law, but certainly not enough to allow for the abortion of the millions of girls it would take to swing the balance significantly. That leaves post-natal elimination of girls.

In my experience with the Chinese people, there is one thing that is readily apparent across all spectrums of Chinese society: they love children. Again, I see no evidence (newspaper reports, criminal prosecutions, etc.) that indicates that millions of young girls are being killed each year. There are no bodies, I see no arrests, etc. Where are all these dead girls ending up, if that is what is happening? I staunchly disagree with anyone that thinks the Chinese are killing their daughters on such a wholesale level. So, if the girls are not being aborted or killed after birth, how is the imbalance occurring, if indeed it is?

A partial answer can be found when one looks at the Family Planning program in China. It starts when a woman conceives. The government has set up a number of incentives to encourage a family to register the pregnancies with their local Family Planning official. The first and most important incentive is the child's ID card. This card allows the family to access the medical services of their area hospital for prenatal examinations, delivery services, and post- delivery exams. By registering a pregnancy before it comes full term, the family is given an ID card at no cost. This ID card is required (if enforced) by the hospital in order to have the child there, something highly desirable for safety reasons. Although we assume that most Chinese have their children at home, this is not the case. Fears of complications compel most mothers to have their children in the hospital. But what does a family do that decides not to keep their newborn daughter? Since that daughter has filled their allotted "slot" with the Family Planning office, if the birth was registered there is only one way to be allowed to have another child: report to the Family Planning office that the child died. Following the death of a child, the Family Planning office will erase the child from the records, and the family will be allowed to have another child. In other words, many of our daughters were probably reported as having died by their birth parents. The effect of all this would be to exaggerate the mortality rates of young girls in China, resulting in the belief that there is a population imbalance developing. In fact, however, the girls are not removed from the population. They are living in China's orphanages or informally adopted by other families.

Lisa mentions that she believes 100,000 girls a year are found in China. It is important to remember that this figure approximates the number reported to the police. But that number is not anywhere near the total number of girls found. Why? Because most are never reported to the orphanage. In my research for adoptive families, I have had the opportunity to interview hundreds of "finders", the people involved with discovering the child. In talking with them, nearly all of them indicated a temptation to simply keep the foundling themselves, and not report the finding to the police. One finder had to protect a set of twins from a woman who was intent on taking one of the twins home with her. A woman approached me in an airport, and after learning who I was, and seeing my two adopted daughters, confessed that she had "adopted" her daughter after finding her at two days old on the street. One orphanage director I know also has an "adopted" daughter that was a foundling. It seems likely that for every girl found and reported to the police, 7 to 10 girls are quietly adopted by the community that found them. Thus, a large and growing segment of China's girls are invisible to the statistics and records of the government. These are in fact the "hidden girls".

But again, although they don't show on Chinese governmental censuses and records, they do exist. Since they have not been removed from the population in reality, the "imbalance" is overstated by their numbers, which is at this time unknown. Doesn't the Chinese government know this? Of course. But it is in their best interest to perpetuate the myth of an imbalance in order to increase the intrinsic worth of female children, and thus reduce the causal reasons for female abandonment. They want families to think that women will become scarce so that the families will be motivated to keep their daughters. Thus the Chinese government freely publishes statistics that perpetuate the belief that an imbalance is occurring.

A recent example is this story, taken from the Xinhua News from October 24, 2006. This government story details how difficult it is for some couples to find "flower girls" for their weddings. The reason, according to this story, is the scarcity of young girls in Guangzhou and other cities.

Now, anyone traveling to Guangzhou can see that this story is misleading on its face. There is no shortage of "flower girls" in China (for one, the vast majority of Chinese weddings don't use Western "Flower Girls", but follow traditional Chinese protocol. Only "westernized" couples are beginning to adopt elements from western weddings. Thus this issue is largely moot). Any adoptive family can watch the morning exercises of the school children on Shamian Island to see that there are plenty of "flower girls". For Mr. Long's story to be an accurate representation of the state of things in Guangzhou, the imbalance would need to be considerably higher than 118 to 100. I have no doubt that this story may have been true for his family, but it does not reflect reality in Guangzhou, or anywhere in China. But it does make one believe in a shortage, and that is the point.

There is an imbalance between boys and girls in China, but I believe that the extent of that imbalance is unknown. Until China is able to look into every country farm house and every high-rise apartment, there will remain unknown millions of "hidden" children. Until the extent of this population is known, it is difficult to know what the imbalance truly is.

Hunan, One Year Later III: Reactions & Reflections

How was the Hunan story interpreted inside China? In a country that frequently reports child abductions and trafficking, was this episode treated with a collective yawn and ignored? Or did the fact that these children were adopted to foreign families make this story resonate with those inside China? In this third article from China's Fenghuang Weekly (March 2006), the reporter editorializes about how the Hunan scandal was perceived by himself, and the impact he feels it will have on China.

Since this essay concludes the articles detailing the events surrounding the Hunan scandal, I offer my reflections on what Hunan should tell adoptive families, and the warnings we should take from this event. It is my fervent hope that we never hear of another scandal involving the buying and selling of children to support our adoptions. It is my hope, but it is not my expectation.

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Self-reflection within the Chinese System of Adoption
By Deng Fei (of Hengyang City, Hunan province)

Cases of buying and selling infants involving welfare centers reflect the predicament of those in charge of this kind of charitable work. At the moment the most pressing issues are to expand the industry’s openness to new ideas and willingness to test them, encourage nongovernmental investment, and thereby put the charitable industry on the right track.

"Babies will not be taken in anymore." That is what an official with the Hengdong County welfare center on February 22, 2006 after listening in on the examination of an infant buying and selling case in court. Another official right to his side interposing, exclaimed: "How is that possible?"

At present, China and fifteen other nations have established transnational links for cooperation on the subject of adoption involving a total of 200 welfare centers all involved in international adoption. Data provided by the China Center on Adoption demonstrates: since 1992 the number of toddlers that have been sent abroad for adoption has surpassed 50,000 with more than 90 percent of them being female and more than 90 percent of them going to America. Adoption by foreigners has already become a major method for the placement and fostering of Chinese babies.

An official of the Hunan Provincial People's Government agreed to discuss foreign adoptions with the Fenghuang Weekly. According to him, in 1992 the people's government asked that adopters pay fees for the initial care of the child, but payment was not clearly delineated. Payments therefore varied widely and at some welfare centers touched on the absurd. Later on, the government systematically introduced norms of payment. Now the clear and definite fee to be paid by foreign adopters as reimbursement for the center's initial care for the child is 3000 American dollars.

In 1997 the justice department and the civil administration cooperated in the releasing of a document called "Methods of implementation of the adoption of children by foreigners." This document stipulated that payment of initial care fees should be made to the "Children's Foster Society” (a governmental organ). This clarification led to the easing of the Civil Administration of Welfare Centers' budget pressures as most of the money was redistributed to the welfare centers.

China's local governments have long been responsible for the welfare centers in their area, bearing many of their associated costs, including expenses for the basic care of the children. Unfortunately though, many of these governments do not have the financial strength to pay for all that is required. An official of Hengyang city informed the Fenghuang Weekly that county finance departments will usually give money to the centers according to the number of children in them each year.

In 2004 welfare centers in Hengyang County received 300,000 yuan, money that was divided between the care of children, elderly people, the payment of staff, and all other necessary expenses. The exact distribution of this money, however, was not fully clear.

One manager of the Hengyang County Civil Administration explained that, before the beginning of adoptions involving foreigners, outside of the income the centers earned from the local finance bureau, centers would also rely on profits from the raising of pigs and fish. These programs were helped by the fact that, generally speaking, welfare centers are located in relatively remote locations and so are able to get a good amount of land. Since their budgets have often been so limited these welfare centers tend to have very limited access to the material benefits of the outside world.

Since the beginning of the implementation of measures allowing for foreign adoption, welfare centers have been able to earn nearly 3000 American dollars for each child given out in adoption. The money allows welfare centers to raise the foster care conditions of their children. Before these measures Hengyang County welfare centers would have to send any ill children to the Provincial People's Hospital for treatment, "that was something nobody dared to think about."

Some critics point out that welfare centers in Hengyang that went so far as to purchase infants were engaging in a sort of unusual method of problem alleviation. As they see it, in this way people were provoked to become more determined in the implementation of the government's "planned birth" policy.

As the price of infants on the market began to rise, cases of stolen infants began to appear. In October of 2004 the Public Security Bureau, in cooperation with others, was able to solve a large-scale inter-provincial child kidnapping case. One hundred and ten people were arrested in the course of the case and seventy male children from six different Provinces were liberated. The kidnapping of children is now rampant, but we are only able to glimpse the tip of the iceberg. Furthermore, as some of these children enter the channels of foreign adoption through the welfare centers, the cost of the rectification of these cases becomes very significant.

The Civil Administration, Justice Department, and Public Security Bureau have issued many statements concerning problems involving foreign adoption and have promulgated strict regulations. Yet, despite the efforts of these departments, some welfare centers have become spellbound by the potential for profits. The Hunan Province's justice department has itself gone so far as to put the head of the Hengdong County Welfare Center in the defendant's seat, somewhat aggravating the bad elements within the current system. Also, the voice of those on the internet calling for a reevaluation of the current system has been growing gradually.

An official with the civil administration of Hunan Province stated that the incidents of buying and selling of infants surrounding Hengyang's welfare centers have indeed provoked many to rethink the current system of foreign adoption.

In comparison with the more and more thriving channels of foreign adoption, domestic adoption has been sagging all along. Those in the Civil Administration inevitably blame the rigorousness of current family planning related policies. A single man must be over the age of forty before he can adopt a child, and he must never have had children in the past. A couple that has been married for five years with both members over the age of thirty and without biological children of their own may also be permitted to adopt a child.

What's more, many families within China that have wanted to adopt a child have been turned down for already having one biological child. Judging from current regulations, welfare centers are generally unwilling to allow the further developments of domestic adoption unless adopters pay a 24000 yuan initial support fee for the child. Thus, there are great barriers to domestic adoption. For contrast, in developed countries the government will provide subsidies to the households of adopted children.

Some officials within the Hengyang civil administration system suggest that the nation should adjust its adoption policies in order to encourage more domestic adoption. With the smooth development of domestic adoption, welfare centers could collect enough money to provide much needed standard aid to the sick, the old, and the weak. It is said that now the Civil Administration is promoting a new kind of "place trust in families to bring up the children" method. In certain Provinces, this method has already become a principal method for raising orphans.

Some experts believe that cases of the buying and selling of infants can be seen as a reflection of the predicament of charitable industry in China. Among the most pressing issues of the moment are the need for the vigorous development of new and multivariate ways of thinking on the issue, and the need for nongovernmental investment to help get China's charitable industries onto the right track.

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Reflections on Hunan

by Brian H. Stuy

I believe the Hunan scandal story will be remembered as a turning point in the China International Adoption program, for it was in November 2005 that a prominent myth of China’s program was cast into doubt. (I use the term “myth” as defined by Dictionary.com as meaning “an unproved or false collective belief that is used to justify a social institution”. The term does not insinuate a belief that is necessarily untrue, merely that it is assumed to be true, but unproven. The assumption may, of course, also be false, having never been true. )

I say “myth” because all of us were taught, and believe, myths regarding China and the adoption program. It involves such innocuous myths such as lady-bug sightings and red threads. But other myths are more profound and important to adopting families. For example, when I adopted Meikina in 1998, I was taught by my agency, the media, and fellow adopters that the children in China’s orphanages would never find homes, and those who survived would probably grow up to become prostitutes and drug abusers. Their futures looked bleak indeed, and we were compelled in those early days to view our adoption as an act of grace.

It seemed so very simple “back then”. The Chinese preferred boys, so female infants were being abandoned wholesale. Unless adopted by benevolent foreign families (few families in China, the story went, considered adoption so there was little hope of these girls being adopted domestically), these girls had no chance for higher education or other opportunities in life. In adopting a little girl, not only were we providing a home for a beautiful child, but our donations and support would help improve the circumstances of those left behind. Thus, China’s program was viewed as perfect: Perfect ethics, perfect process, and perfectly predictable.

I advised families to consider China above other programs because it was demonstrably legitimate, and had no apparent corruption. Unlike Russia, Ukraine, Vietnam, and other countries, China’s record was spotless. There were no stories of families having to pay “unforeseen” processing fees once in-country. The child a family received was the one they were referred. It seemed to work flawlessly. (There were, of course, individual experiences that refuted some of these assumptions, but they were viewed as the exception).

That is why the Chinese adoption community was shocked when the allegations from Hunan became known. How could this story be true, many families asked, given what we know about China? In a country where so many children are being abandoned, why would there be a need for orphanage directors to buy infant girls?

But Hunan should be viewed as the canary in the coal mine, for in Hunan we have the clearest evidence yet that many of our cherished myths may no longer be (if they ever were) true.

At its foundation, Hunan is about greed – greed of orphanage directors, traffickers, and probably birth parents. We can argue the motives of this greed, but it is undeniable that a desire for money led Hengyang County director Jiang Jianhua to first require his employees to seek out unwanted babies, and later to purchase children outright from traffickers. It was greed that motivated Duan Meilin and her sister, and the other traffickers, to “adopt” children from various individuals and transport them hundreds of miles to Hunan, where they sold them to the orphanages. It was greed that created the environment where the price of these children rose from 200 yuan to over 3,500 yuan in the space of two years.

Defenders of the China program, including myself, point out that these children were unwanted, and therefore the trafficking was not that bad. It certainly is not serious enough to label China’s program as corrupt, as we commonly understand the term.

If pushed, I would admit that I see little problem with the idea that unwanted children were accepted from birth parents and delivered to the orphanage in lieu of payment. Trafficking per se is an innocuous term, covering everything from being reimbursed for travel expenses to the buying of children abducted and smuggled to their buyers. But the Hunan scandal begs several questions, questions that serve to muddy the waters.

We must ask ourselves, for example, if it is possible that there were birth parents who gave up their daughters because they were able to receive a substantial sum from the orphanage or from the traffickers. In other words, is it possible that the situation in Hunan actually increased the number of children that were deserted by their birth families in order that those families would be given what for them was a substantial sum of money? Did the actions of the orphanage directors create a “market” for these children that otherwise would not have been there?

And if these directors were, for whatever reasons, compelled to purchase these babies to fulfill the demands placed upon their orphanages, what other means might be employed by other directors to accomplish the same ends? Would they, for example, be willing to seek out unregistered children in poor villages and confiscate those children to adopt to Americans and other foreigners? Before we reject such a hypothesis, we might want to consider the story of a dozen families in Gaoping County, Hunan.

In March 2006, families in this rural village filed a petition asking for the return of eleven children taken from them by Family Planning officials over the past four years (http://www.asianews.it/view.php?l=en&art=5696). One of these families, Yang Li Bing, stated that “his de facto wife gave birth to a girl in July 2004 and even though she was their first child, the county's family planning officers took the infant away on April 29 last year [2005] citing an 'unregistered marriage and an illegal child'."

In an area where the average annual income is about 3,000 yuan, Mr. Yang was told that he could have his daughter back if he paid 8,000 yuan. A few days later, that ransom was increased to 20,000 yuan. Unable to raise that amount of money, Mr Yang lamented that “We are poor people and my relatives were not able to collect so much money in several days.” When he was unable to come up with the cash, a Family Planning official notified Mr. Yang that his daughter had been brought to the Shaoyang orphanage, and that “even if you could offer 1 million yuan,” he could not get his daughter back. He was simply told to “give up hope.”

One must question why Family Planning officials would confiscate unregistered children to bring them to an orphanage that was already filled with abandoned babies? Were they simply acting out of a desire to strictly enforce the laws of the land, even if that resulted in an increased burden being placed on the orphanage? Or were there other motives? The Hunan scandal forces us to ask these questions.

And what happened to these confiscated children?

It is perhaps coincidence that the following month the Shaoyang orphanage submitted dossiers for two children to the CCAA for international adoption that listed birth and finding dates that exactly match the birth and confiscation dates of two of the eleven children confiscated in Gaoping County. If we knew the birth and confiscation dates of the other nine, would we find internationally adopted children with those dates also?

In June 2006 I detailed a survey of the orphanages that participate in the international adoption program. When asked if they had children available for domestic adoption to a local family, 93% of the over 250 directors stated that they had no healthy babies available for domestic adoption. Many admitted that most of their healthy children were adopted internationally, and that a domestic family should look elsewhere to adopt a healthy infant.

It is a sad reality that families inside China have no legal options to adopt if denied access to the children in the area orphanages. Many families, like the one who told her story in an August posting, resort to extra-legal adoptions from close friends or other families that seek to get rid of an unwanted child. But these families face suspicion and high fees when they seek to register these children, and as we saw in Gaoping County risk discovery by Family Planning officials.

Some of us fail to consider the plight of these families in China – mostly childless, they desperately wish to build a family through adoption, only to be denied that opportunity because their city or county orphanage adopts the children internationally. Placed in such a position, some families buy their child from traffickers, while the most desperate kidnap a child off of the street.

Thus, Hunan is the canary in the mine in that it, along with many other lesser-known articles, describes the changing dynamics of children in China. Hunan highlights the growing imbalance between the number of unwanted children, and the number of families seeking to adopt those children. It illuminates to what extent directors will seek to profit from that imbalance by illegally seeking and purchasing additional infants from other areas of China. While their motives may be altruistic (giving everyone the benefit of the doubt), the results are not. Domestic families are denied children, other families are coerced to give up their child for an inconceivable amount of money, and still others have their children confiscated under the umbrella of the law. And those are just the stories we know about.

I have defended China’s program in the past, and I continue to believe it is among the best in the world. I have spoken with hundreds of finders who confirmed the truthfulness of the stories given to adoptive families. I have sat at dinner with many directors who have displayed and conveyed a deep desire to do the best they could for their children. But these experiences are not universal, and exceptions have occurred. China must work to remove the conflicts that exist in their adoption system, and remove the financial pressures that devolve on its orphanage directors.

Maybe I expect a perfect system, one in which no one’s rights are infringed upon, and where the children are always prioritized. A system where the governments, agencies and adoptive families think first what is best for the child, and second what is best for them. A system where an orphanage director would never willingly encourage or force a birth family to relinquish their child, and adoptive families would never participate if they suspected such things were happening.

If I expect too much, perhaps it is because that is the myth I was taught when I began adopting. Perhaps that is the myth many are still taught today.

Infant Trafficking: One Family's Story

With this, the second article from the March 2006 issue of "Fenghuang Weekly", we obtain a rare glimpse into the world of baby trafficking. As we saw from our first article, the stage was set in Hunan Province. The director of the Hengyang County orphanage had put word out that the orphanage was buying babies. It was only a matter of time before someone heard of Ms. Liang, an elderly woman in Wuchuan City, Guangdong Province.

These articles were translated from the Chinese by a professional translator at LanguageScape.com. The words are not mine; the mistakes are not mine; as much as I would like to make corrections (like the stated date that international adoptions began in the first segment), I have left them.

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Infant Trafficking: One Family's History
By Deng Fei (of Hengyang City, Hunan province)

In 2001, in Wuchuan City of Guangdong Province, the husband of Duan Meilin discovered an older woman surnamed Xing that had taken care of, and brought up, a great deal of abandoned children. Through this discovery the Duan family would soon be drawn into the business of selling babies. Since then, the number of babies that the family has played a part in the trafficking of is difficult to estimate. For this, the Duan family is doomed to be a family that people will talk about for many years to come.

On February 22nd 2006, Duan Meilin, her sister Duan Zilin, her brother Duan Yueneng, his wife Wu Daichao, her own sister Wu Daiqun, and the youngest sister of her sister's husband Zhang Chunai all stood in the place of the accused at Qidong's People's court.

In 2001, Duan Meilin's husband Zhang Mou was working at a chicken farm in Wuchuan of Guangdong province. One day he happened to find out that a woman with the surname of Liang that worked there had raised a lot of abandoned little girls. This discovery made Zhang excited beyond words.

In Wuchuan of Guangdong Province's southwest, the concept that boys and men are more important than females is still very prevalent, and so the abandonment of girl infants is certainly not big news. One bit of evidence comes from the diary of a student gaining practical experience in a related office: "Today, I sorted out the 'public notarization book of abandoned infant's' (finding ads). My god! There are so many. It has thirty or forty separate parts! These little girls were abandoned in every corner of Wuchuan. If they weren't soon brought over to the welfare center by some good-hearted person, their lives would still be in the hands of fate."

The old Ms. Liang had, with the help of several other older women, raised a very large number of abandoned girls over the more than ten years that she had been in the business. Some couples looking to adopt a child would go to her home and select the children they liked. Generally speaking these couples would give Ms. Liang and the other women some kind of remuneration for their services. Others that needed some way to deal with or dispose of baby girls would also come to their door. At the most, Liang would keep around forty babies in the house.

The mother of Duan Meilin, Chen Yejin, had previously worked at a welfare center in Hunan’s Changning city. From that experience she knew that just sending a baby to a welfare center could earn a person more than 1000 yuan. Bearing this in mind, Duan Meilin and her sister Duan Zilin started to look for abandoned babies in the Changning area. When Zhang Mou found out that Miss. Liang had a lot of babies at her house the whole Duan family became wild with joy. They thought that they had stumbled upon an excellent money-making opportunity. Duan Meilin then accompanied Zhang to the Wu household in Wuchuan, and adopted one of the children. After returning home, Duan Meilin passed the child onto the welfare center in Changning and was paid 2300 yuan for the child.

In 2002, Duan Meilin returned to the home of Miss. Liang, this time with her sister and mother. After paying Ms. Liang 720 yuan, they chose six baby girls and placed them in a paper box to carry them home. On the train back home the railway police discovered the six babies stored in a paper box. They quickly decided the babies must have been kidnapped, so the children were sent to the welfare center of Liuzhou. Duan Meilin along with her sister and mother were put into custody before being set free one month later.

The same year the mother and daughters of the Duan family sold three infants to the welfare center of Zhuzhou City in Hunan province, capturing 6900 yuan, but as soon as they exited the building the Zhuzhou police seized them. The Hunan Provincial police immediately went to Wuchuan for further investigation. Upon learning about Ms. Liang the Wuchuan City Welfare Center went to her house and took the children away.

In 2003 sisters and brothers of the Duan family were again taken into custody by the Changning City police before again being released. After helping the brothers and sisters to get to know a lot of those in charge of the management of various welfare centers in Hengyang, Duan's mother Chen Yejin withdrew from the business of buying and selling children. The other members of the Duan family then began working on their own.

About a year later, Duan Meilin and Zhang Mou returned to the home of Ms. Liang. Ms. Liang knew that they had been seized by the police, so she did not want to be involved with them anymore. Zhang explained to her that the police had determined that they had not been kidnapping children and therefore let them free, "otherwise, we would be facing punishment." Duan then said that the Hengyang Welfare Center wanted infants. "It doesn't matter how many. They will take them all, no problem."

One of those babies taken from Ms. Liang's home had been ill, but Duan Meilin said that she was beautiful and after paying fifty yuan for the baby insisted on taking her. As a result the baby died on the road.

Later in court, Miss. Liang would argue defensively that she sold this sick baby because she believed that the welfare center could save the child's life, since she had no way to offer the little girl treatment. Over the past fourteen years of all the infants that Ms. Liang had raised, fourteen had died from illness.

Ms. Liang's idea was that by raising these children she could make extra money to supplement her otherwise meager budget. In court she admitted that she had earned more that 60,000 yuan buying and selling these children. Of this money, she said 20,000 had been used to treat her daughter's mental illness; 20,000 had been used to treat her own illness; and something more than 10,000 had been used to pay for her son’s college education.

As Guangdong's planned birth policy became more and more stringent the number of people that had children outside of the plan decreased, and so abandoned babies became fewer and fewer. In order to get more of this smaller number of infants, Ms. Liang then began to pay varying amounts between 100 and 1000 yuan for them. Ms. Liang's son from college then began to help out in the management of the business of buying and selling infants.

At this time, the sister of a supervisor at the Hengyang county welfare agency, after discovering the Duan family's "source of merchandise", took four or five other ladies to Wuchuan, and straightaway opened discussions with Ms. Liang and son, and took up the infant peddling trade in competition with the Duan family. In 2003 the going price of a baby there was still in the hundreds of yuan. By 2004 the price had risen to more than 2000 yuan, and by the second half of 2005 the price had climbed to about 3500.

At the end of 2004 several cadres from the Qidong county welfare center made a special trip down to Changning. Once there they tracked down Duan Meilin and asked her to provide them with more infants. For help in doing this Duan Meilin then asked her sister-in law, Wu Daochao to help her. Wu Daichao and her husband DuanYueneng then rented out a house close to the home of Ms. Liang in Wuchuan and prepared to go into business for the long-term. That year Duan Meilin was able to get at least forty children from the home of Ms. Liang.

After Wu Daichao became familiar with the whole buying and selling process, she called upon her sister, Wu Daiqun, who was then working in Guangdong. For every infant that Wu Daoqun was able to procure for her sister she was given 300 yuan and for a pair 500 yuan.

In Wuchuan, Wu Daochao came to know a woman that had brought a baby to Ms. Liang. Named Wu Guande, the old woman had often served as a mid-wife. Wu Daochao also became familiar with a driver named Mr. Liu. This group of well-informed sources soon became the life-wire of Wu Daochao's business.

In court, Ms. Liang said that she found out that an older man that sells cool tea was also involved in collecting infants. She also knew that other Duan brothers and sisters had been involved in transactions totaling more than forty.

In July of 2005, Duan Meilin, worried that by transporting more than two infants back to Hunan she might draw the attention of authorities, once again hired her sister Zhang Chunai for help, paying her 500 yuan a month. As word about the Duan family's operations in the city of Wuchuan spread, more and more people came to them to talk business. Usually these people would earn somewhat more than 2000 yuan for the children they brought. When her business was good, Duan Meilin could herself sell around ten infants per month. Over the years hundreds of infants were sold in this way.

During the afternoon of November 17th 2005, Duan Yueneng once again went to the home of old Ms. Liang. When he saw that Liang had three more infants in her household he immediately called the Hengyang County Welfare Center. After both sides had settled on an agreement, Duan Yueneng got his wife Wu Daichao and her sister to come to purchase all three babies and take them to Hengyang with him that same night.

During the afternoon of the next day among those that came to meet the brothers and sisters of the Wu family were employees of the Hengyang welfare agency as well as the Qidong County police, who had long been lying low until that opportune moment. This, then, was the last sale of the Duan family infant peddling.