Tag Archives: Family Separation

On Christmas Day 2025 I celebrate the moms and infants separated at my birthplace

A shot take of Crittenton General Hospital in 1965 shows future adoptees in the care of nurses. Note, the cut line information has some inaccuracies from the source (photo courtesy of Patricia Ibbotson’s Detroit’s Hospitals, Healers, and Helpers, and the collection from the Detroit Public Library).

It is Christmas Day, December 25, 2024. The day, as most of us know, celebrates the birth of Jesus, who Christians say is the “son of God.”

I’m listening to Christmas carols, celebrating the “messiah’s” birth in a manger. The words praise the holy mother and child.

For me, I cannot help but think of vulnerable mothers and their babies, who in the United States have experienced the “miracle” of a child’s birth far differently from the joyful moments I was raised to celebrate growing up as the adopted son of a failed minister and a very devout Christian mom, who eventually raised me as a single parent.

Those vulnerable young moms, unlike the “blessed virgin Mary,” were coerced for decades to surrender their newborn infants to the U.S. adoption system.

I’m just one small statistical blip among millions of us who lost our families shortly after birth to feed a system of family separation that needs to be massively reformed.

So, today, I honor those mothers and children, whose stories are hidden, from my birthplace, Detroit’s now long-demolished Crittenton General Hospital, one of the largest maternity hospitals ever in the United Stated that saw thousands of infants separated from their mothers shortly after birth.

For all of you, and your families, I wish you the spirit of the holidays. May you find grace and acceptance.

Know that your stories and your denied justice are remembered and will never be forgotten by those of us who know the true history of our births.

A new tradition begins for ‘Rudy-setä’

In 2023, I immersed myself in my Finnish heritage and connected with my Finnish kin in Finland.

This marks the first Christmas in my life that I have contact with my biological relatives in Finland. This followed a wonderful trip I made in September 2023 to Finland, one of the ancestral countries of my birth mother. 

We had only known each other in the month before I flew to Helsinki, after my search combined with good fortune and the kindness of a stranger helped re-connect familial bonds that had thrived decades between relatives in my birth state of Michigan and Finland.

I published a long-form story about that in November 2023. I highlighted our shared family history and how the inequitable system of U.S. adoption and discriminatory laws in Michigan still deny such connections to likely tens of thousands of adoptees relinquished in Michigan.

In Finland, to my amazing surprising, one of my biological family relatives shared with me a stack of letters and photos sent and shared by our shared relatives in Michigan—my maternal grandmother’s extended family. That stack of documents included letters stretching over decades and family photos that showed my Michigan family—including my birth mother as a young child!

Since coming home, my relatives in Finland and I have stayed in touch. We’ve done a few video calls and have shared messages through WhatsApp, which many tech-savvy Finns love to use. It’s an easy way to reach them. It encourages communications that make me feel much closer to this land of a quarter of my biological kin and their ancestors. My search for my past also opened up a world of discovery for me about Finland, a country voted six times in a row as the world’s happiest country.

Because of Finland’s amazing successes promoting human happiness and health, population health, and the “greater good” for its people, I have also have become more than smitten by my genealogical ties to Suomi, as Finland is pronounced and spelled in its delightfully distinct Finno-Ugric language.

I received a new name this year, courtesy of my Finnish nieces I met for the first time in September 2023.

Soon after I came back from Finland, I received a delightful family video shared with me by some of my relatives. They gathered together to wish me well, calling me “Uncle Rudy.” I earned this loving moniker because I have four distant nieces in this family (and I have another niece with another distant cousin, who I met as well). I loved it.

I felt something I had felt before—a biological kinship to younger children who all shared my genes. I was their “Uncle Rudy,” which in Finnish translates to “Rudy-setä.” I have now fully embraced this title, given to me by the young ones. It turned out to be the unexpected gift of 2023 that I could never have predicted when the year started.

This Christmas card was sent by one of my U.S. biological relatives to their Finnish relatives in 1947. My extended in family in Finland returned this card, to me, when I found and met them in Finland in September 2023.

As Christmas arrived this December, I shared a photo of a Christmas card a Finnish-American relative of mine shared with relatives in Finland in 1947, written in Finnish of course, as the U.S. relatives were bilingual. I wrote: “What an amazing thing to discover that holiday greetings were shared between family through the 1940s, and later. So I wanted to renew the old tradition, one of those Christmas cards sent from U.S. family in 1947, and perhaps start a new tradition.”

My relatives in Finland replied with similar holiday wishes, family photos, and shots of their homes decked out for the Christmas holiday. It was nice to have this connection, from halfway across the world, in a place filled with snow.

It is richly empowering to everyone to know they have kin and relatives, in the United States and also in countries around the world. All of the millions of adoptees in the United States, born there and abroad, have an inherent human right to share this connection to their kin and relatives, if that is a mutually shared wish.

I received wonderful Christmas wishes from Finland on Christmas Eve this year, from my Finnish relatives in Finland (hyvää joulua).

Earlier today, on Christmas, Dec. 25, 2023, I used the special occasion to advocated with Michigan Gov. Gretchen Whitmer to support the restoration of basic human rights to all Michigan-born adoptees. The best way that the fellowship and good will of the holiday can be shared, through the passage of possible legislative reform in Michigan, is to make it possible that all of us can know who our kin are and to feel the bonds of fellowship with those with whom we share a collective biological kinship. This is called being human. We all have a right to this condition by birth.

Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all, especially to those who may still not know their kin, their past, and their truth because of laws like those still enforced and in place in my birth state, Michigan.

No I will not share pictures to entertain you

Rudy Owens and his adoptive mother, 2008

Trends regarding adoptee rights advocacy come and go, and some stay and have lasting power. One I am seeing the past couple of days is promoting the importance of genetic closeness, ahead of National Adoption Month. Adult adoptees are showing photos of their birth kin they may know to show biological connections and to subvert what the month means to millions of adopted persons. I refuse to do that. I have several reasons I will share.

First, I refuse to be part of a spectacle for entertainment for others because of a broken and inequitable system. My severed connections are not for your pleasure. They demand collective actions by allies and political leaders to fix problems in order to support millions denied basic legal rights. More importantly, there are millions of adopted persons who may never meet their kin or ever see anyone who looks like them. This is spiritually painful to many of them, and it creates additional pain where there is a dark hole already.

Finally, this form of sharing allows us to ignore the greater and more important issues of finding solutions to overcome legal, cultural, and political barriers that prevent lasting reform. So yeah, count me out of another social media trend. I will be thinking about those adoptees who are of all ages and who are still denied knowledge of who they are and from whence they come.

For the record, when I launched my website for my memoir on the U.S. adoption system, I created an online gallery where I intentionally blacked out the identities of my biological and adoptive kin. It was my way of making clear my denied biological family connections will never be used as clickbait for media or anyone else for voyeuristic pleasure. I will not participate in this type of online bread and circus. Eventually I may share photos, but it will be purposeful so that it supports the larger goals of my efforts to restore adoptees’ legal rights. 

The hidden legacy of separating families through adoption in Detroit

The Crittenton Maternity Home (top) for single mothers, who delivered their children across the street at the former Crittenton General Hospital of Detroit, opened in the 1950s. The hospital opened in 1929. Today the former maternity home houses Cass Community Social Services. Most women who stayed here between the 1950s and the mid-1970s gave their infants up for adoption.

Since May 2018, the national dialogue has swirled around the Trump administration’s official policy of separating migrant parents and their children at the U.S. southern border as a form of immigration deterrence. As of mid-June, the number of children estimated to have been separated from their parents was nearly 2,000, for the period from April 18 to May 31, 2018.

As this played out on the national stage, scores of adoptees on the margins of power have observed the political crisis and voiced dismay that the rage leveled against the current administration has never been lifted by liberals, progressives, conservatives, politicians, religious leaders, medical groups, the media, or others to support adoptees in restoring their legal and human rights that are still denied because of the U.S. adoption system.

That system led to nearly 2.7 million adoptions, and thus nearly 2.7 million family separations, between 1945 and 1975. Today there are an estimated 5 million U.S. adoptees, most of whom do not know their kin because of the policies that encouraged adoption and the state laws that still prevent kin from knowing each other.

I sent a guest column to the editorial page of the Detroit Free Press on June 2, 2018, after first pitching the story the month before about Crittenton General Hospital of Detroit, where I and many thousands of other adoptees were born before the facility closed in 1974. The paper never followed up on my queries, as I had hoped they might because of the historic significance of the hospital to Detroit and Michigan’s social history and legacy of treating women and children.

Why the Untold Story of a Maternity Hospital Matters Right Now

Nearly three weeks later, I am publishing that column because of intense media and political coverage and, yes, open grandstanding surrounding the detention of young children and the breaking up of families as an official national policy.

I also find it more than ironic to read purported outrage and criticism by groups as diverse as the American Catholic Bishops and the even the American Academy of Pediatrics. For the record, both groups had supported adoption, which ending up separating—and in most cases forever—millions of mothers and their kin. (See the AAP’s statement promoting family separation and the role of the Catholic church in family separation during the boom adoption decades after World War II.)

These uncomfortable historic facts are not lost on adoptees, who have seen almost no meaningful support in their quest for equal rights by law from groups and leaders rushing to “help children.” 

Adoption was envisioned by these and many other groups as a way to address the societal shame and stain of illegitimacy of single-mother parenting while providing stigmatized, “out-of-wedlock” infants to couples unable to produce children. That was my family story and one repeated by the hundreds of thousands of other birth mothers, adoptive parents, and adoptees who moved from one family to another.

Those who bore the brunt of this calculus were the birth mothers, like my birth mother, and their kids, like me. 

My newly released memoir explores the system that promoted this many millions of individual decisions and the laws that still keep kin separated because of lingering bias and outdated ideas that deny most adoptees their rights to be treated equally by law. My book specifically focusses on Detroit, where I and literally uncounted thousands were born and than separated from our biological kin and mothers. 

Crittenton General Hospital in Detroit was one of the nation’s largest maternity hospitals, eventually becoming one of the most important maternal health centers devoted to promoting adoption to single mother patients from the 1940s through 1974.

Column Submitted to the Detroit Free Press: The Hidden Legacy of Separating Families through Adoption in Detroit

In April, national media first reported 1,475 migrant children who came to the United State alone could no longer be accounted for by federal officials. A top Department of Health and Human Services official told Congress it had lost track of the youth who were placed with sponsors. [See above how that estimate has risen since I first wrote this on June 2, 2018.]

Attorney General Jeff Sessions then fueled the controversy in early May announcing a new family separation policy, saying, “If you won’t want your child separated, then don’t bring them across the border illegally.” By month’s end, some press reports were linking both issues, pointing to the administration’s new “zero tolerance” policy to stem illegal immigration at the southern border.

Though these development were separate, critics protested them together and expressed outrage at the Trump administration with angry tweets and the hashtags #WhereAreTheChildren and #MissingChildren.

Meanwhile, in Detroit, 1,600 miles from where the policy is being enforced at the Mexican border, most residents remain oblivious of the city’s historic legacy of separating mothers and children through the national system of adoption. The lifelong separation of mothers and their infants took place through a national consensus of doctors, social workers, religious groups, state vital records keepers and maternity homes and hospitals.

Detroit was home to Crittenton General Hospital, one of the nation’s largest maternity hospitals for unwed young women. Though it served the health needs of likely thousands of mothers and their infants for decades, it also promoted family separation that was meant to “save” the young mothers from a life of shame and the children from the stigma of illegitimacy.

Located at Tuxedo and Woodrow Wilson, Crittenton General operated from 1929 to 1974, and was torn down in 1975. It was among the dozens of maternity homes and hospitals nationwide created by the National Florence Crittenton Mission. Founded in the 1883, the philanthropic group first sought to save prostitutes and then so-called “problem girls,” who were poor, single and pregnant.

During the 1940s, as rates of single-mother pregnancies rose dramatically, the organization’s longstanding official policy to keep mothers and children together changed. It began working with local agencies to promote adoption.

Detroit had three Crittenton homes and hospitals before 1929. Another maternity home was built next to Crittenton General and opened in 1954, keeping the women out of public view before they gave birth at the hospital. The vast majority of moms would relinquish their babies to the agencies that later placed them with other families.

Nationally, groups like the Salvation Army and the National Conference of Catholic Charities ran similar homes and facilities in the post-World War II boom years of adoption. From 1944 through 1975, an estimated 2.7 million infants were separated from their mothers and placed for adoption, according to a U.S. Children’s Bureau study from 1984. This is only an estimate, as there has never been any official system nationally that requires the tracking of all adoption placements.

Today there is still no accurate estimate of all adoptees, in Michigan or the United States, though there are official counts for intercountry adoptees since 1999. Some estimates peg the national number at 5 million. The stigma of illegitimacy and out-of-wedlock pregnancy that adoption was supposed solve also created a cloak of invisibility around the birth of adoptees and their presence in society, even as it became socially acceptable for single moms to raise kids.

On Jan. 24, 1974, the Detroit Free Press ran a story on the closing of Crittenton General just before it last months, due to financial strains, the decline in adoptions and the economic decay of Detroit. The piece referenced how it provided “maternity service” for single mothers, but not the adoptions that followed—for decades. The story fit into a long pattern of hiding adoption from the public and hiding the story of adoptees.

When I contacted Crittenton General’s successor hospital in Rochester—now called Ascension Crittenton Hospital—in 2016 while researching my book as an adoptee born at Crittenton General, its staff said they had no birth records from its Detroit predecessor.

The National Crittenton Foundation, the mission’s successor group now in Oregon, said it had no birth records to share for its former homes and hospitals. The repository of all National Florence Crittenton Mission records, at the University of Minnesota Library, said it did not have records of infants born at the Detroit facilities. The Detroit Public Library also claimed it had no birth records data for the hospital. When asked to estimate adoptee births between 1945 and 1980 statewide, a Michigan Department of Health and Human Services official spokesperson replied, “It would not be possible to determine this number.”

From a policy and public health perspective, it is unthinkable that there is no accurate record of adoptees who were relinquished in Detroit or even Michigan.

Nationally, the U.S. Census in its last two counts failed to count for all adoptees in the way it estimated adoptee and foster children. The method in 2010 missed the generations of adult adoptees who are older and do not live with parents. Not knowing how many adoptees live in each state undermines some adoptees’ efforts to change laws sealing their birth records. Original birth records remain closed in most states, including Michigan in most cases, preventing most adoptees from knowing their family origins.

As many health and public health experts say, “If you aren’t counted, you don’t count.”

About the Author: Rudy Owens (MA, MPH), is a Detroit native, adoptee and one of many thousands of infants born to a single mother at Crittenton General Hospital. He was placed in foster care and adopted five weeks after his birth at the facility in 1965. Owens is the author of a new memoir, You Don’t Know How Lucky You Are. His book examines the American adoption experience and his years-long efforts to obtain his original birth records and family origins from the state of Michigan.

REFERENCES:

Adoption History Project (website). “Adoption Statistics.” Accessed September 5, 2016. http://pages.uoregon.edu/adoption/topics/adoptionstatistics.htm.

Harmon, Amy. New York Times. “Did the Trump Administration Separate Immigrant Children From Parents and Lose Them?” May 28, 2018. https://www.nytimes.com/2018/05/28/us/trump-immigrant-children-lost.html

Carp, E. Wayne. Family Matters: Secrecy and Disclosure in the History of Adoption. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1998.

Detroit Free Press. “Silent Halls, Empty Beds at Crittenton.” January 24, 1974: 64.

Eisner, Jennifer (Press Officer, Michigan Department of Health and Human Services). Email to author. July 27, 2016. http://www.rudyowens.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/07/MDHHS-Statements-on-Adoption-Records-and-Policy-7-27-2016.pdf.

Fessler, Ann. The Girls Who Went Away: The Hidden History of Women Who Surrendered Children for Adoption in the Decades Before Roe v. Wade. New York: Penguin Press, 2006.

Florence Crittenton Association of America. “Services to and Characteristics of Unwed Mothers, 1965.” August 1966. Box 67, folder 6. Social Welfare History Archives, University of Minnesota Libraries, Florence Crittenton.

Kreider, Rose M. and Daphne Lofquist. “Adopted Children and Stepchildren: 2010, Population Characteristics.” U.S. Census Bureau, April 2014. https://www.census.gov/prod/2014pubs/p20-572.pdf.

Kunzel, Regina. Fallen Women, Problem Girls. Unmarried Mothers and the Professionalization of Social Work, 1890–1945. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1993.

Maza, Penelope L. “Adoption Trends: 1944–1975.” Child Welfare Research Notes, no. 9, U.S. Children’s Bureau, August 1984. Child Welfare League of America Papers. Box 65, folder: “Adoption—Research—Reprints of Articles,” Social Welfare History Archives, University of Minnesota. (See: http://pages.uoregon.edu/adoption/archive/MazaAT.htm.)

National Public Radio. “Following Up On 1,500 Missing Immigrant Children In The U.S.” May 29, 2018. https://www.npr.org/2018/05/29/615079848/following-up-on-1-500-missing-immigrant-children-in-the-u-s.

Rochester Clarion. “A Salute to Crittenton Hospital (supplemental).” August 3, 1967.

University of Minnesota. National Florence Crittenton Mission Records. Accessed September 5, 2016. http://archives.lib.umn.edu/repositories/11/resources/736#.

Wang, Amy B. Washington Post. “The U.S. lost track of 1,475 immigrant children last year. Here’s why people are outraged now.” May 29, 2018. https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/post-nation/wp/2018/05/27/the-u-s-lost-track-of-1500-immigrant-children-last-year-heres-why-people-are-outraged-now/.

Wilson, Otto, Robert South Barrett, and National Florence Crittenton Mission. Fifty Years’ Work With Girls, 1883–1933: A Story of the Florence Crittenton Homes. Alexandria: The National Florence Crittenton Mission, 1933. (See: https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/000977186)