My Name Is Jazz: Name Changing

When I was born I was jasmin rea powdrell and when I got adoptid my mum change it and it rally pissis me of because it’s not up to them it not thear child.
I fell it is rely rong because it’s hard i nuff that been taken a way and a lot of the time thay don’t have a chose and thay don’t no why ad I fell it should be agest the law because it not ther child and it’s not up to them at all.
when I got adoptid I got name jasmin rea b*****n ad I fell it’s up to the person when they older to see.
if I had a chose it would be jazz rea powdrell because I would of like to keep that jean because my mum ad mums side was called that ad it rally mack me angry not because off my mummy bear because I love our family but the powdrell r my rail family and I do love mummy bear ad the b*****n’s. I just won’t to be with my mum and dad and brothers and when I see family all to get her it macks me fell very jealous and angry that I couldn’t have that and i no famley don’t alk ways get on but I crave the fact they live in the same house eat the same food shop together go to school together.
Argue together cry togetther, shere feelings watch telly together go to bed in the same house aloud to go out on thear on with the brothers. tell your mum that u love her and u going to be thear no matter what have a job have the famley.
kids do need thear rile perrents ad when my cousin jhonny comes I allwas think your so lucky you live with brothers and sister and u got a popper mum and u live with you rale mum and when all of my sport worker’s come I think that.

 

 

But then I look and think I’m lucky the fact I got adoptid and not in a children’s home and my mum had the guts to go and find my famley and stuck by my site every time.

My Name Is Jazz: 100 Words About My Number 1 Girl

When I was five I got this felling that I was going to be loved but a bit skerd to bleve it. when I was a teenager I loved her very much ad I very attached to her and when she was not hear I fell hope less. I think about her all the time ad I sum times text to much or ring because I missing her but I have to be brave ad strong about it ad I very protectve of her but the oley one who herts her is me ad I fell bit crappie about that. Love my mum.

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First 100 (To challenge the paperwork gets a free lolly).

Contact, a simple little word that has so much complexity, confusion, love and fear behind it. I have had that little but big word in my head constantly for the last fifteen years.Thoughts of it are never far away. Is it good? Is it bad? Is it damaging? Is it therapeutic? Is it a moral issue? Everyone should do it, Should I ever have done it? Is it a great big pain in the backside? Will resolution and harmony be the end result?

As my daughter to be arrived to live with me there were no real arrangements at all for birth family contact. The paperwork supported the “they are dangerous abusive people not worthy of consideration” view. I was, through a process of government regulation and assessment, to become the cultural rescuer, the life saver, the fairy good mother balancing out life’s ‘dysfunctional’ with life’s ‘normal’

Alongside that was a gaping void of meaningful information about why and how the decision to permanently severe her from her roots, siblings and all, had been bought about. There were reports of many attempts to support that had failed. Irresponsible behaviour, aggression and non compliance from the parents. But no real family history as such. What had happened to them, what were their life stories, how did they end up not being able to parent appropriately? Who were their extended families and especially where were they? When I thought of the parents in my minds eye they existed as two isolated shadowy people in a dark cloudy bubble of danger and uncertainty.

I was advised to keep my daughters identity and whereabouts secret and not to go with her to her nearby home town. The psychological effects of this on us were much bigger than I was able to vocalise at the time. What other families, and particularly children, have to hold elements of themselves secret, risk assessed, pixilated in fear of discovery? It’s got elements of witness protection and identity reconstruction.

Of course at the time I was compliant and wholeheartedly accepted the authorities view that the security was for a good reason and that my child needed such protection. I had shameful feelings of hatred towards her parents. In the few photos I managed to eventually get by persistence with the LA, they looked in my minds eye like something akin to photos you see on the news of child abusers. Faces with nothing but negative associated with them. You could see the hard life etched on them. Signs and symbols of poverty and lack of opportunities.

Initially my daughter and I were thrown into life with each other. There was no time to consider anything or anyone else. As things ‘settled’ the murky cloud of her parents and her history was behind us most of the time. Like something that could potentially jump out of the shadows. The elephant in the room. An elephant that neither of us could discuss properly because we didn’t have the right information. Of course I fielded young questions with the reassurance that her mum and dad couldn’t look after her, they had hurt her, it wasn’t her fault, she was safe now. As time went by it wasn’t enough.

Two things mainly triggered my urge to meet them for her sake. First was the the best bits of her. The really great sense of humour. The massive grin. The loving and generous nature. The most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. The uniqueness. The courage. Then the difficult bits. Fear, anger, anxiety.

My thought process went something like; There must have been good bits about her family life for her to have gained certain inherent qualities. Foster carers surely couldn’t have changed her personality in the year they had her?
The difficult bits seemed to exist for obvious reasons to me. They had frightened her and neglected her, life was chaotic and uncertain. It was loud, harsh, smokey and it smelt a bit of wee. Her belly was often empty and her hair was often pulled.
As I began to learn to understand her difficult bits, to forgive violence against me, to live with abuse in my home, to keep therapeutically calm and failing badly at times, they came to my mind more and more. Why did they do this to her?

Her behaviour didn’t make me judge her negatively. In fact I loved her more. I was mainly forgiving and empathic and spent a large proportion of my life attempting to get all those around her, family, schools, friends, doctors, police to view her in the same way as I did. To understand that her anger was justified if mismanaged. I hated it when others viewed her as dangerous or delinquent and many did. Other children were gently steered away from her and invitations to social gatherings were rarely forthcoming.
As she grew older and bigger, sympathy and forgiveness for her visibly drained away. She transformed from child victim to teenage perpetrator in the eyes of others and in the eyes of the law. I had to do intense work to avoid her being criminalised. Trying to explain that although her behaviour was at times violent and anti social she was a good person in her heart and intentions, that we loved each other deeply despite it all. That they didn’t ever see the ‘real’ her that she kept buried as protection from possible grief and pain.

She was by birth an extension of her parents. By my logic that meant they could also be somebody’s damaged child. Somebody’s damaged child that perhaps didn’t get taken in by loving kin, quality care or attend therapy with a psychologist or sessions with a social worker who championed them in meetings as inherently good.
I personally don’t believe in born evil. I think we all have a bit of bad in us. Stress, violence against us, hunger and fear is likely to make most of us have mental health issues and behave in anti social ways. Education and life opportunities often help the lucky ones to stay away from the darker sides of human survival. Having said that of course there are many educated well off people abusing their and other peoples children whilst hiding behind a moat of respectability.
I think mental health is a cruel condition to manage in the culture we currently live within. Addiction even harder. Homelessness impossible.

So I thought, if I can have compassion and forgiveness for her behaviour could I have it for them? She knew they had been taken out of her life because they hurt her. She lived in fear that I would be taken from her because she hurt me. If I couldn’t promote forgiveness or at least understanding of emotional and social circumstances for her parents why would she ultimately believe I would do it for her?

Based upon on the above I searched them out. My initial intention was information gathering not reunion. After sometime and much preparation I took her with me. We eventually met Mum and Dad, Granny, Aunty, nephews, nieces, half sisters and brothers over many visits. I took her to the hospital ward she was born in and she collected a wrist band with the exact time and date (it was as the drums of Eastender’s played out at 8pm). We learnt of Grandad whose tragic death on the roll of a fate dice sadly changed her life chances forever. We saw the places that held her family history both bad and good. The memorial to her Grandad, the place her Mum hit the social worker.
We learnt it was her Mum that struggled, she was learning disabled and a child victim of abuse, the manifestation of which was very challenging behaviour. We learnt she had a good heart, an infectious laugh, no justice, no education and no money. We learnt she responded very positively to empathic therapeutic responses and clear boundaries. Her sister, a police officer, told us of systemic failures to help them as a family to keep her safe and understood. We learnt of how different things could have been with quality early intervention and support. Tons of paperwork existed but there was no investment made for the future. An expensive false economy.

With this information my daughter could make better sense of it all and with security, understanding and therapeutic support be enabled to make informed choices to forgive or not, to forget or not. As an adult she’s glad we did it although it was challenging and at times extremely sad. That’s our individual and personal experience.

In a wider context I feel that the chances are that if you have an adopted child, behind that may be a history of at least one of the following; poverty, mental health, addiction, domestic abuse, sexual abuse, poor housing, lack of opportunity, lack of attachment opportunities and love. The chances are high that your child was born into a family dealing with poverty. I have doubts that behind it lies people beyond support or ‘redemption’. Where there exists those who have committed such heinous crimes that they are beyond forgiveness, surely we have to question what society did to firstly see it coming and secondly prevent it. The children of ‘the unforgiven’ also deserve the very best support possible to come to terms with their experiences.

Losing connection to your family or having a child removed from your family are unimaginable to most of us in terms of trauma and loss. It’s the most severe punishment. Do thousands of families and extended families a year in this country really deserve such a punishment? If yes….what the hell is going on? What are we spending our riches on? If no…what the hell is going on? What are we spending our riches on?

Based upon our personal experience and wider knowledge it concerns me that adoption systems, promotion and regulation exist against an entrenched cultural back drop of mass consumerism, corrupt corporations, social exclusion, discrimination, elitism, sexism and racism all topped off with social care, health services and legal aid cuts.
I’m sure in some and probably many cases this leads to injustice and unnecessary harm to children and vulnerable adults.

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Training And Trains Of Thought

I booked myself onto an intensive training course with attachment guru Dan Hughes earlier this year. It was not cheap and I needed most of the year to save up for it despite the deposit being given as a birthday present from my parents. The course was level 1 in Dyadic Developmental Psychology, DDP for short. The therapeutic model was created by Dan to work with children and young people who have attachment issues and trauma related symptoms. The therapy is particularly used with fostered and adopted children who have experienced traumatic loss and/or neglect and abuse. The therapy, unlike others believes in forming an authentic relationship with clients and their families or main carers. At its core is PACE: playfulness, acceptance, curiosity, empathy. I think it’s a great parenting model for all children.

Jazz and I were involved in this therapy for many years and I whole heartedly believe in it. It was the only intervention that felt humane, positive and meaningful. We just didn’t get enough of it due to lack of LA/Health financial commitment.
My motivation for going on the course was not to become a therapist in DDP but to focus my experience and gain further expertise as a charity worker. I also want to continue to support my daughter who did not suddenly become ‘cured’ of trauma issues aged 18 when funding for the therapy ended at the stroke of midnight on her birthday.

The course has been taking place this week and I finished it on Thursday. Clutching my certificate and with a head full of learning I wended my way back home to reflect on what I had taken from it.

I have always had a heathy cynicism about the ability of therapy to cure trauma symptoms and of course my opinions of this didn’t change over the week. I still believe trauma has to be lived with and strategies for families to cope independently are what can be encouraged and developed within this style of attachment therapy.

There were 31 people on the course and I was the only person present who was a parent to a traumatised child rather than a therapist or practitioner in children’s services. This gave me quite a different perspective than the other trainees. It made me acutely aware of the use of language during discussions as well as the positions workers are in when supporting families. A great group of open minded and willing people didn’t mean that the overall care culture of the parent being less expert did not creep in and show itself. Quite a bit of innocent but disempowering suggestion during exercises and dialogue that parents might not quite understand the reasons behind behaviour in the way a therapist or ‘professional’ automatically would.

I found the many clips of therapy sessions bought tears to my eyes in ways they couldn’t to other people. That in the role plays (I still hate role play!) it meant I could easily slip into parent and child role but found myself disassociated when I was the therapist. I also learnt I was better at being an active problem solver than a more passive listener. Which is not always a good thing. I found Dan to be a true therapeutic master when watching him work with families

Many of the trainees found practising the therapy methods all day exhausting even with coffee and lunch breaks. It was nothing compared to practising it for real every day, day in, day out for years.

Having been fighting for years as a parent and more recently as a charity worker to have the voices of children and parents heard in equal status to professionals and politicians it gave me great hope to hear that Dan Hughes was potentially ‘on our side’. He proved this to me in part by using The Open Nest ‘Severance’ film as part of the training. He says he plans to use it again as he felt it showed services the direct results of not supporting families, both birth and adoptive from the start. If he does I believe his training will be more rounded and based in reality.

My overall conclusions were these:

1. Many therapists in the UK and within CAMHS work with models that are in potential opposition with the principles of DDP. This in turn means they work in ways that do not help adoptive families and can even damage them.

2. Social workers wanting to support families post adoption and in ways which take on principles of DDP and PACE will not necessarily get backing from LA management or the DfE, nor the budget and supervision needed to be supported in ways a therapist would.

3. There are still worrying gaps in professional knowledge around what life is really like at times for adopted children and their families. This extends to a more dangerous blaming of parents if children express trauma through behavioural problems. The Government funded research by Julie Selwyn that highlighted issues in adoption is not commonly heard of, even by adoption social workers! I think the Government are hugely selective in which adoption stats they focus on.

4. DDP therapy can potentially turn lives around but the access to both practicing it and receiving it is restricted and exclusive due to the costs involved.

5. To teach a parent and child to communicate well in the presence of trauma and to encourage healthy attachment styles in therapy sessions is a wonderful goal. It can be transformative. For a parent and child to sign up for this and commit to it is empowering and supportive for all. When that parent and child then receive opposing thinking and practice outside the therapy, in schools, health services etc, it is devastating and completely undermines the work done by the therapy. It is confusing and anger provoking for children who do not understand budgets, systems and agendas.

6. I am more convinced than ever that the current Government needed and still needs to prioritise funding to change the culture and practice around adoption and the language and rhetoric it takes place within, before it spends money on recruitment and the marketing of a system not yet fully fit for purpose.

7. If supporting traumatised children truly is your passion as a trainer, therapist, social worker, charity boss, MP or parent you should give your time and expertise as generously as you possibly can. Give free and subsidised places on your courses, give your knowledge and information to as many people as possible for free, fight your managers to gain meaningful support for families and yourself even if it makes you unpopular, write to your MP, lobby parliament, form support groups, take part in activism, hang on in there for your children against the odds.

8. If money has to be involved in your passion to support children it is always possible to make it truly fair trade.

National Adoption Week: It’s My Party And I’ll Cry If I Want To.

Well it’s been a National Adoption Week of madness, not too dissimilar to most weeks here but with a backdrop of intensely mixed emotions. Jazz started the week by blogging about her very mixed and raw feelings towards her birth mum and to being adopted.
A letter from Edward Timpson MP then appeared on my Twitter timeline thanking ‘me’ for the great job I do. Then a massive thunder storm brewed that eventually made all the power go off in our house.

The week has made me reflect on complexities, not just within my own life but within adoption.
Jazz’s blog made me feel extremely sad for her. A child with no choice in her circumstances growing into an adult still dealing with the consequences of failure, not only by her birth mother and me but also by the systemic failures in adoption support. We have had numerous chats, tearful moments and hugs as well as quite hairy moments of anger and anxiety this week.

Mr Timpsons letter just made my blood boil. I’ve heard he is a really nice man who has good intentions but I felt it was sadly recruitment focused and a bit of a wind up for many of us in the community. It thanked adopters but entirely forgot to meaningfully mention adoptees and by its nature ignored the impact of the current system upon many of them. He followed this bit of PR with a picture of himself at an awards ceremony with his head through a strange fairground style recruitment advert from the Government funded agency First4Adoption. The picture was of an ‘adoptive dad’ and an ‘adoptee’ (he was the Daddy) with the words ‘Happy Birthday’ slung in a banner over the top of them. Maybe I’m too sensitive? To me, based upon my experience, birthdays can be very loaded for children who cannot remain in their birth families. Adoption is not a ‘rebirth’ event it is the beginning of a complex life journey that starts with a loss that reverberates, often during days of National celebration for others. Maybe they were fuelled up on adoption positivity and cheap champagne but it didn’t seem very thoughtful to me.

The storm and loss of power caused an enforced moment of calmer reflection and clarity. With no distractions by television or housework or cooking, no light to read or write by, I just sat and thought by candlelight.
I thought that it was a shame that what should be a celebration of our families caused division and confusion in many of our minds. To speak of difficulties or to challenge the merits of the adoption system could suggest to others, in particular adoptees, that we are unhappy or have regrets as adopters. The last thing I would want my daughter to ever feel is that I regret her. I don’t and I make a point of not only discussing this openly with her but also sharing our loving relationship with anyone who will listen. I also support her in being heard, even if that means reading and publishing her individual views that being adopted is completely shit at times.

To criticise those with true passion and integrity who are pushing for meaningful reforms to adoption support can seem very ungrateful or cynical. Right now, we will of course take everything we can get. If the 19 million in pilot support projects just stops some families falling apart it is gratefully received. But it is crucial as ‘receivers’ of policy to also highlight that the current adoption system and reform policy is flawed. Research tells us that at least one third of existing adoptive families struggle to a high degree. This is life changing, messy and harrowing. Ultimately it puts children at risk. There are children and families at risk now, today, this National Adoption Week.

If you see adoption as a potentially great thing for children it follows that you allocate significant funding to get adoption support systems right before bringing more children and families into them. A bit like some of the National Adoption Week PR it all seems like it hasn’t been entirely thought through. I’ve tried to imagine why. I’ve spoken to social workers, practitioners, researchers and academics. Many of them report feeling it is a short sighted party political budget driven initiative. That it cannot be denied that adoption can provide much needed security and continuity to neglected and abused children but that it also saves money. Adoption transfers the legal duty of care for vulnerable children to private families and away from the the State. Adoption support is not a legal duty by statute within this system.

It is not at all easy for any of us to talk or write honestly about the difficult issues we deal with. You can be made to feel you are letting the side down, being negative or moaning purely for the sake of it. I have wondered what on earth those who haven’t struggled make of what some of us share during this week of relentless celebration. Mad and marginalised people who don’t know how to enjoy a great party when they see one? The sad and unlucky few?

I also worry as founder of a user led charity that being ‘political’ or negative about adoption policy will alienate us all from those holding the support purse strings. Then I think about Jazz and I and how we had to learn together to her detriment and how we were blamed and isolated. How we daren’t be angry in case the few crumbs of support available might disappear as punishment for our dissent. How we internalised that anger turning it to shame. How we so nearly lost each other. Then I feel quite angry and unaffected by any judgements that might diminish our experience or that of others. As an agency we have hope and faith that by working hard at fundraising we can support families by being independent and unmuzzled. The personal is political in a way that if it is organised creatively has a transformative power beyond rhetoric.

American adoptees have had a parallel event to our NAW this week. A great campaign with the hashtag #flipthescript has shared amazing thoughts, feelings and politics all week. It’s a different system but I’m guessing by what I’ve read that they feel as marginalised and unheard as some of us do here. The power in their campaign is the unashamed determination in their right to be heard.

I’m wondering if we can organise something like this ourselves as a community for next NAW?
A campaign that is honest but clearly states it is the very personal love for our own children as well as a more universal respect for the experience of all adoptees that drives us to be truthful. That this truth should therefore allow us a valid invitation to the party rather than being the embarrassing unwanted guest.

Hashtag suggestions welcomed to info@theopennest.co.uk

My Name Is Jazz: I Love Beards!

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It’s gone from the f***** up kid to the boy/ tranny. I just won’t to be a boy because I like fit girls and the fit girls I like like fit boys like me. I just feel more at home as my self and and my dream is to be a boy because I just won’t to be more my self. when I’m a boy I just feel like I sould be a boy calld Dexter and thats my dream lol I think I would be better looking and I feel more my self. when I’m a boy I feel I can show my self more and my dream is to be a lads lad I just feel more sexy as a boy ad my cheeky ness comes out more my anger gets less my anxiety get less I feel more lovable and I feel more at home and feel happier and I all ways dream I’m a boy ad I think like a lad duse at 20😳😳😳😳😳😳 ad I like Beards. I fell I can show the real me more and feel more love towords my FIRENDS ad famley and less hate and less anger. guys some times feel when the dress up as girls they feel thay can cry or show the real feelings. I feeI would be more of a gent and treat peele beter.

The F***** Up Kid

When I was 4 I was all ready damage but I got put in a foster home and then when I was five I got adopted by mummy bear and I felt like I could not trust Ey one. I still dont and what has been left in this damage person is nothing but Under denial anger and I fell so angry with how I was left buy mum fuck up mum and I just hate her so much but love her to. I have rally dark thoughts like chainsaws blood clown and and fell like a big massive ball off anger and Anxiety and I’m left with felling scared. I so fucking angry the fact I was born in to a crap mum and born with the hobble feelings ad left with fear off every one leaving me and not been there.

And I lash out a lot atm because I keep on having these felling shite and I hate been like this to all off my FRIENDS and I crave not felling like this ad I fell I just won’t to bee normal and not to have Under denial felling and I keep on try my best and be brave ad carm and strong then it hits my rally hard it like a masive cut all over my chest and it herts like spiderman has and fell like it’s not going to go a way.

And a plaster not going to help or Stitches or ey thing I fell like an x army person and I fell so much in pine and I’m hurting and I blame my berth mum because if she tried hard in nuff I would not have this masive cut on my chest and it’s not small it right a cross my chest and I fell like runny a way from it and go and try and heal it some how and I cart sleep when mum is not hear or next to me and this is so pine full ad I cart deal with it ey longer and its my mummy bear get the shite end off the stick from stupid mother fucker or sould I say the head fucker.

And it’s not fear on mummy bear but she is the one how I can show it to and Kat gets the shite end off the stick to and I sick off felling like it. I just going to say I do not deserve my mummy bear how is so good to me and my berth mum will never hear that from me or the words hey look Iv for given u or the truth is I love u ad need u. what she will hear is I hate u I will not bee your kid u will never be as good as mummy bear and it’s all your folt ad I still fell like this after 15 years so get out off my life. I still burning ad hurting after 15 years and my anger has not been solved.

hang on I think I need to cam down but I’m just f**** off

I need to pull up my socks ad get some help. that girl needs therapy lol

But I fell if I don’t have berth mum I would not be a live but I won’t to cum out off mummy bears tummy I also need to get some help ad ad to be brave ad srong and put the past in the past and tack risks and be a better person and count my blessings and be thank full I’m loved and got rabbits ginny pigs dogs cats the not like some people high rise with nothing ad I’ve got support workers and a good strong stable Friends and family how love me and would do ey thing for me

The end

My Name Is Jazz: Today A Hot Potato

This how I fell today 24/10/1014 Last night I had a hobble dream and my heart is in pine because my dog was dead in my dream and he reminds me off my dad. I’m thinking off my dad to day and that rally brakes my heart because I Lost my dad at crisrmast last year as u all no about. I loved him so I’m felling a bit heart broke today and I’m tide and fell lonely and fell lost and I’ve got my punch in my chest wich means I’m felling anxious because of my dream. But I’m ok because I’ve got my pets which helps but when I fell like this I go and look at my fiends and famley and I fell lucky I’m loved and cared for. what I’m going to do about how I fell is I’m now going to put the hot potato on the table wich means if u felling some think not good insted of passing on to the next person and burning them so they pas it on to the next person and it allso burning. Then the person how was herting first gets the rong response wich is not what thay need if that Mack’s sence? lol dreams r hobble and leve u felling crap lol The end πŸ˜„

My Name Is Jazz: Adopted and With Support Workers

When I was little I didn’t fell as angry about it as I do now. why do I fell angry about been adopted and having sport workers now? because I sometimes rally angry with my berth mum because I felt she could of done a lot more than she did and try’s hard than she did and I went 2 lots of foster home and then mummy bear came.

And I love her a lot but I rally do crave my berth family because I sometimes fell like I got rejected and my mum Dislike me and I was the worst kid in the would and I sum times think would the boys my bros would had a mum and dad if i wasn’t born but then mummy bear would ent off had me and all my sport workers and my 5 best mates Emma Erin Johnny Andi kris Kat but I fell when I go out with my sport workers its obvious because of the why I look and act and I rally dislike that and what macks it more obvious is when mummy bear and berth mum and me are out its obvious because is Bracingly obvious that I’m not mummy bears because I look like my berth mum and when I with my berth mum in town Its rally embarrasses me because it’s herts because I rally won’t 2 be down with the kids and just herts because I’m not and its her she is a FUCKING failure and if she tried harder I wouldnt be in the torn felling.

I love mummy bear so much but I just won’t 2 walk down the street with out felling its obvious that I’m adopted or I’ve got a disorder. I love my bros so much and I’m a bit sick off not seeing them every day. I want to fell like we a Normal family. with my sport workers I like the young ones so it look like we r a big gang off dudes and I rally won’t a boyfriend how loves me and will Treat me right or a girl and I will do that back four them. But then I look on the bright side off live and think I’m rally lucky That I’m not in children’s home with no one or in prison or a drug addict or a Nasty person

The end