Adoption can look different for everyone, and this article does not represent everybody’s story. Instead, it focuses on two individual perspectives, told through the lens of Māori adoptee Dr Annabel Ahuriri-Driscoll, and daughter of a Māori adoptee, Dr Erica Newman.
The European idea of adoption has been legally practiced in New Zealand for over 67 years. But whāngai, a Māori kinship practice, has been practiced since before colonisation. Whāngai is where tamariki Māori are brought up by whānau, instead of their birth parents. Many knew who their birth parents were and kept in contact, but they grew up in a different family member’s home.
Adoption grew in Aotearoa from the 1950s, and in 1955 The Adoption Act changed the way in which children were adopted. Adoptions would be closed, a clean break – there would be no legal obligation for birth parents to stay in contact with their child. Single mothers who adopted their child out were thought, through a closed practice, to be given a second chance.
Māori, who had not been allowed to legally adopt non-Māori children since 1909, were now treated the same as Pākehā. Iwi affiliations were hardly recorded. This meant that many Māori adoptees grew up without knowledge of their whakapapa and were disconnected from tikanga Māori.
University of Canterbury senior lecturer Dr Annabel Ahuriri-Driscoll was one of many tamariki adopted this way.
“My story is that I’m a product of a Māori father and Pākehā mother who were too young to raise me. I do think that [adoption] was a good decision that was made there. I mean, I understand the reason for that decision.”
Adopted in the late 1970s, Annabel says she was adopted by a loving Pākehā family at four months of age. Her adoptive parents later adopted a girl with Tongan ancestry too, giving her a sister.
“We got used to being part of this family that looks like they don’t belong together. But [we were] very much loved.”
Growing up without knowing her whakapapa was very difficult. Often assumed to be Pākehā by her appearance, Annabel was often questioned about whether she should place importance on pursuing her whakapapa. At fifteen, she had an identity crisis, “as everyone does”. At nineteen, she eventually met her birth parents, and had many of her questions about who she was answered.
“All of a sudden, I could see, ‘wow, I look like these people’. Not only do I look like them and resemble them physically, but I am like them as a person. And I’m not this freak that doesn’t fit,” she says.
Although her birth parents had not raised her, Annabel admits there is a sense of connection and affinity. But she says you can’t make up for the time that was lost.
Dr Erica Newman, a lecturer and Indigenous Development Programme co-ordinator at University of Otago, is the daughter of a Māori adoptee. It took 74 years of her mother’s life to find the answers she was searching for.
Erica’s mother, Beverly, eventually found her birth mother – but her birth mother had passed away by the time she had found her name.
Born to a Pākehā divorcee, Beverly was her only Māori child. Her father was a ‘half caste Māori’, born in a time where the blood quantum was rife.
In 1997 and at 48, Beverly began to request access for information. She received her birth certificate and contact details for siblings. Because her father was recorded as ‘half caste’, the legal definition of Māori at the time, Beverly was recorded as Pākehā.
It wasn’t until this year that Erica found out her and her mother’s whakapapa.
She says most of the answers, and a bout of further questions, came from a DNA test. From there, Erica says her mother found out exactly who her birth parents were.
Now, the two are focusing on whakawhanaungatanga, building relationships and making connections.
Oranga Tamariki – the Ministry for Children says for tamariki Māori, you cannot consider their identity without considering whakapapa, whānau, hapū, and iwi.
“For tamariki Māori connections to cultural identity are important. Knowing where you come from, having a sense of belonging and understanding your place in te ao Māori helps to ensure mana tamaiti...tamariki Māori are seen to be the future for hapū and iwi”
Although both Annabel and Erica have been able to trace their ancestry, they both talk about the difficulty in rejoining te ao Māori.
Annabel says the act of adoption can’t be undone.
“You can reconnect to your whānau but reconnecting to te ao Māori is another thing altogether. It can be really fraught.”
Annabel’s thesis and research (including a recent article titled ‘A ‘Forgotten’ Whakapapa’) has helped answer a lot of burning questions she had around identity and adoption. She found her whakapapa through a letter from her birth father. Now, she and her sons are connected to Ngāti Porou ki Waitaha.
Annabel explains the importance of tūrangawaewae, the idea of going home.
“Wherever your ancestors come from, that’s kind of your true place of belonging…through your whakapapa, that’s the place that you have, [where] you can stand with authority, with some mana.”
