Catherine Corless' brave research told the world about the scandal of the 796 'Tuam Babies' |
The only surprise about the revelation that survivors of institutions and
clerical sex abuse are planning to protest during the visit of Pope Francis to
Ireland in August is that anybody might be surprised.
There are thousands of people across Ireland, the UK, the USA, and Canada
who are waking up to the injustice inflicted upon them and their families. They
are determined not to be silenced anymore.
They want the Catholic Church to face up to the abuse inflicted on young
mothers and their children in both Magdalene Laundries and Mother and Baby
Homes throughout much of the 20th century. As far as many of them are
concerned, the religious orders have never faced up to their crimes.
All across Ireland, hundreds of people believe they may have uncles,
aunts, brothers, or sisters scattered across the globe.
They believe they have close relatives in cities such as Boston, Chicago,
or New York who have no idea of their own true identities, as they were adopted
out, illegally and for cash, by nuns whose only concern was that they ended up
in good Catholic homes.
The history of Catholic institutions in Ireland in the 20th century is one
of physical and emotional abuse, shame, judgement, and even baby trafficking
and child abduction, as many “illegitimate” children were forcibly taken from
their traumatised mothers after they were transferred to institutions all
across the country.
This is not ancient history, as we saw in the emotional but wonderful
scenes in Dublin two weeks ago when more than 200 former residents of Magdalene
Laundries were honoured in public for the first time.
Many of them flew home from the US and the UK, because the shame of their
incarceration – or giving birth outside marriage – ensured they could never
return to the towns or villages they came from.
The last Magdalene Laundry only closed down in 1996. Some of the women
were so institutionalised after spending three decades in these harsh
institutions that they did not wish to leave even when presented with the
opportunity to do so. They had given up the will to live independent lives.
The youngest woman to have given birth in a laundry is still only 40 years
old. These are real, living, breathing people and now they want the truth – and
justice – after so many years of secrets, lies, and shame.
The children born in these horrible places did not all end up living in
Ireland. They were trafficked in their hundreds to the USA, their birth records
falsified, and to this day many do not even realise that they were adopted or
born in Ireland.
When we talk about the 796 ‘Tuam Babies’ we should remember that they are
not just skeletons buried in and around a septic tank in a North Galway Mother
and Baby Home.
They are the flesh and blood of people like Peter Mulryan, a noble man in
his 70s who wants to know what became of the little sister he never knew he had
for most of his adult life.
Until he finds proof of her death, for all he knows
Peter’s younger sibling could be living out her life somewhere in North
America, totally oblivious to her roots or where she came from.
This need to know the truth seems to be of hugely important to the
survivors and their children as they reach old age. Who would not want to
know what happened to a sibling if he or she was forcibly removed from a
tearful mother’s arms?
Even if they knew nothing about them for most of their lives.
Birth records were falsified, an order which ran a notorious Mother and
Baby home is now making money from private health care, and religious orders
are refusing to hand over records until they receive legal indemnity for crimes
committed in the past.
Institutions circumvented the rules to send children out for adoption and
priests were moved around from one parish to another when ordinary people
raised concerns about clerical sex abuse. For many victims and their families,
peace will only come when they hear full apologies and they receive redress for
the crimes which destroyed so many lives.
'My Name Is Bridget' is an important new book which looks at the search for justice and truth by the families |
Most of all, people just want to hear the truth.
It’s a theme which recurs again and again in ‘My Name is Bridget’, the new
book by journalist Alison O’Reilly which examines the desperately sad case of a
woman who had two sons taken from her in the Mother and Baby Home.
Bridget went on to live in Dublin, marry a good man, and have a daughter
who never knew about the two older siblings who were seized from her mother in
Tuam. It was only after Bridget died that Anna discovered she had two missing
brothers, who may or may not be buried in that infamous septic tank in Co
Galway.
Right now, Anna, Peter, and other survivors of the Tuam Mother and Baby
Home are waiting on tenterhooks to see if Galway County Council are prepared to
undertake a full excavation and examination of the Tuam site.
They will be shocked and dismayed if they authorities try in any way to
cover up what happened in Tuam after all the pain they endured. Decades may
have passed, but they are still entitled to find out what happened to close
family members – were they buried in an unmarked grave or were they trafficked
to America?
“This is a national scandal, not a popularity contest for who wants the
tidiest cover-up. This can’t be the same as in the 1970s. How dare you,” wrote
Anna in a letter to the Minister for Children and Youth Affairs, Katherine
Zappone.
She sent copies of the letter to every member of Galway County Council to
make it clear that she and other family members would not accept any kind of
‘cover up’ at the site.
Alison’s book is a very topical addition to the national debate. It shows
how important identity is to the adopted and the truth is to survivors of
institutions and their families.
In a powerful chapter at the end of her book, entitled Snapshots of Stolen
Lives, Alison spoke to a number of survivors about their need to find the
truth, justice, and peace.
Honouring the Tuam Babies at a beautiful ceremony in Galway. |
“Everyone deserves to know who they are and it should not have taken this
long and I should never have had to fight so hard,” said Breda Tuite, who was
adopted through the St Patrick’s Guild Agency in Dublin in 1959.
It took Breda, from Dublin, years to track down her late mother from Co
Kerry. For her, there was a kind of healing in visiting her grave and meeting
her friends and family.
Sharon McGuigan was just 16-years old, an innocent child, and had been
groomed by an older man when she became pregnant in 1985. She was admitted to
the Dunboyne Mother and Baby Home in County Meath and gave birth to a daughter
in February 1986.
The daughter was taken from her and adopted. Sharon had no say in the
matter. Her daughter is still not ready to meet her but Sharon hopes to build a
relationship with her some day.
“We should not have been made to feel so shamed and to be cast aside,”
Sharon told Alison O’Reilly. “I just want to tell my story and not to be
mistreated because of something that wasn’t my fault. I want an acknowledgement
of what happened to women like me.”
Anna Corrigan has described the Tuam grave as a jigsaw which needs to be
put back together.
The survivors and their families point out that there were many
institutions like Tuam all over Ireland and an awful lot of healing still has
to take place for those who had no voice for far too long.
They believe that religious orders were engaged in criminal behaviour
during the darkest days of 20th century Ireland and it is time the Catholic
Church faces up to issues such as the shaming of pregnant women, child
abductions, and the trafficking of Irish babies to the USA.
They believe that the visit of Pope Francis to Ireland will be a pivotal
moment for the Catholic Church on the island.
If he listens to the people who had their identities stolen or who were
separated from their families, a huge amount of healing can occur in
August.
Otherwise, Pope Francis can expect very vocal – and hugely embarrassing -
protests from victims who are not prepared to be silenced any more.
* 'My Name is Bridget' by Alison O'Reilly is available in all good bookshops now. http://www.gillbooks.ie/
Read my recent feature for Irish Central about Rachel Robinson, the quiet-spoken woman who set up the Solidarity for the Magdalenes page on Facebook: https://www.irishcentral.com/news/magdalene-survivors-support
To hire a journalist, blogger, or digital storyteller, contact Ciaran Tierney via his website, http://ciarantierney.com/
Find Ciaran on Facebook: http://facebook.com/ciarantierneymedia/
Follow Ciaran on Twitter: https://twitter.com/ciarantierney
Peter Mulryan at his mother's grave in Galway Photo: Ciaran Tierney Digital Storyteller |
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