Patricia Carey, who was born in a mother and baby home in 1971 before being adopted, never publicly discussed her personal past during her tenure as CEO of the Adoption Authority of Ireland, desiring to keep her professional role uncoloured by personal experiences. However, when she took on the position as the special advocate for institutional abuse survivors in March this year, Carey felt it pertinent to disclose her personal origins. Born in Bessborough Mother and Baby Home, Co Cork, Carey believes her personal history equips her with insightful understanding into the grim and recent realities of Ireland’s social past.
Speaking in her inaugural interview as the special advocate, Carey stated her new ministerial role––created as a response to the final report of the Mother and Baby Homes Commission of Investigation––is an independent function, which authorises her to criticise governmental actions if survivors’ views deem it necessary. Her mandate encompasses not just survivors from mother and baby homes but also of the Magdalene laundries, and industrial and reformatory schools. The total number of people housed in these institutions between 1922 and 1998 is around 230,000.
Carey’s current focus is on collecting narratives of survivors and forging a bond of trust with the community she represents. She has already communicated with about 300 survivors in the initial seven weeks, and plans to visit survivors in Cork, Tralee, Waterford, Manchester, Birmingham, London and Coventry. Carey expressed her encouragement at the number of individuals reaching out who were not part of groups and had not previously shared their stories. She states, “A lot of people wanted to wish me well.”
“She acknowledges that her appointment was met with criticism by a minuscule portion of individuals, and she respects that. Doubts have been raised regarding her authority to represent them, and others contest that her scope of responsibility is excessively wide. “I am approachable and ready to have dialogues with survivors who wish to interact with me. I am fully aware that not every survivor will want to. It is crucial that I am transparent about my capabilities. Providing personal advocacy or taking on individual cases is beyond my authority.”
She will be seeking to draw attention to the “collective concerns” of surviviors. Her duties include forming a modest advisory panel of survivors, featuring 12 representatives from different institutions, inclusive of three who reside overseas. Regarding the recruitment process, she confesses, “I am currently unsure.”
It’s vital, she emphasises, that the methodology is seen as just. “I aim to have the council established by the end of the year, having convened at least once.”
She’s been astounded by the sheer number of individuals eager to share their experiences. Some have taken the initiative on behalf of their elderly parents, seeking information. One such instance involved a woman whose father, at 94, was sent for fostering – a group currently ineligible for any redress schemes, adding to their plight.
Most were institutionalised, later placed with families. This process she describes as “the more time-honoured interpretation of fostering”, although a majority ended up being used as workforce sans remuneration.
Despite the fact that fostering might have been preferable compared to institutional living for some, numerous children experienced horrendous upbringings, involving round-the-clock work, inhabiting barns, and inadequate food supply. Upon reaching legal adulthood, they found themselves evicted without any support.
The strikingly young age of some current survivors has also caught her attention. There was a woman who recently reached out to her, having been interred at a mother and baby home less than 40 years ago as a result of incestuous rape at just 14 years of age.
Having been welcomed into a new family as an infant, Carey is personally familiar with the unique challenges and issues that can arise at different periods in an adoptee’s life. She remarked, “Though I’ve mostly experienced positive aspects of being adopted, it doesn’t negate the difficulties inherently present in this type of family formation. It’s a profound challenge as it involves separation from one’s birth family, usually prompted by circumstances that prevent them from being your caregivers.”
Her stay at Bessborough, however, was significantly shorter than the mandated six months for children to qualify for the compensation scheme. From there, she transitioned into a loving home with her new parents in Dublin. She recalls, “I believe I was officially adopted when I was around six weeks old, which was the earliest legally allowable age for adoption.” The adoption proceedings took place through Cúnamh, a Catholic adoption agency located on Dublin’s South Anne Street. “From my understanding, my biological mother and my caring adoptive parents were in adjacent rooms during the adoption proceedings.”
Both of Carey’s adoptive parents, who she identifies as her true parents, have passed away. They made sure she grew up aware of her adoption status. She noted, “That transparency was one of the greatest gifts they gave me.” While it led to some schoolyard teasing, she always had a desire to learn more about her roots, resulting in her writing a letter to the adoption society in her early teens.
Regarding the task of locating her biological family, she conveyed mixed feelings. “There are pros and cons to uncovering your heritage,” she warned. She maintained caution, advising, “Sometimes it is prudent to be mindful of what you go searching for.”
Although not one to divulge personal details easily, she confirmed that she had met her biological mother once and her birth father twice.
Her primary objective was to interact with them rather than establish familial ties. Though she understands that adoption may lead to a compulsory split in families, she didn’t feel the need or the wish to construct a duplicate family. All she desired was an opportunity to meet them, feeling it was not only her right, but something she shouldn’t have been denied. That’s what mattered most to her.
Over 1,500 adoptees won’t get their documents within the legal timeframe. Carey views the implementation of the Birth Information and Tracing Act 2022, which she dedicated nine years of her career to, as her ultimate achievement as the CEO of the adoption authority. This crucial law carved out three decades, granting adoptees the undeniable right to access any information and records from when they were born and their earliest life. She contributed a significant amount of her time, attention, and effort towards making this a reality because she was once told it would never materialise.
Carrying the same subtle yet firm resolve, Carey shifts her focus to her new objective. She’s cognisant of the plethora of issues that survivors of institutional abuse feel “disturbed by, impacted by, or profoundly upset by.” With her new position aligning with the introduction of the mother and baby institutions payment scheme, her main attention is towards this particular group. “The main problems, being brutally honest, I suppose, are the invalidation of the taoiseach’s mother and baby home apology in 2021 by excluding individuals from the payment scheme.”
It’s estimated that the eligibility criteria cover around 34,000 people. However, it neglects approximately another 24,000. This scheme only caters to children who resided in a recognised institution for over six months, and for mothers, a minimum of one night.
As of May 12th, a little more than 2,900 applications have been submitted, as stated by a representative from the Department of Children, Disability, Equality, Integration and Youth. The payments for the approved applications are anticipated to commence shortly, and the scheme will remain in place for another five years.
Carey highlights the distress many are experiencing as only two mother and baby homes are acknowledged as sites where work was conducted. Recalling a recent conversation with a resident of an unrecognised home, Carey notes their recount of the various chores carried out within the establishment, including washing nappies and maintaining cleanliness. It seems perplexing to her that only two such homes qualify for work-related payments for survivors, the rest being county homes. She predicts this classification will likely be subject to a judicial review.
Over 1,200 requests for birth data were received during the initial week of the new service being offered. Evidence presented to the Mother and Baby Homes Commission of Investigation led to only the Tuam Children’s Home in County Galway, and Sean Ross Abbey in County Tipperary, being included in the final 2021 report. The commission’s investigation has faced challenges admits Carey as she remains cynical of its findings.
Survivors have communicated their disappointment to Carey, stating that the apology that came after the commission’s report feels invalidated due to government’s exclusion of many of them. The fear of returning to residential care seems dominant in those who’ve previously spent significant time in an institution.
A further grievance arises when an individual is deemed ineligible upon application, for example, if their home isn’t listed, there is no opportunity for appeal. Instances have been reported where individuals lived in facilities that operated as mother and baby homes, but are now absent from the 44 listed in the payment scheme. A significant number of private nursing homes, Carey says, functioned as makeshift mother and baby institutions, resulting in many children being cynically sent to the USA.
Certain US individuals who were adopted illegally have reached out to her, recounting unsettling pasts; this was due to the fact that many of their adoptive parents in America were unable to secure adoption papers domestically. Thus, the condition of their early lives is a testament to this injustice. Carey has also heard complaints from those feeling discontented with the limited coverage of the improved medical card provided for qualified survivors. As they age, their worry grows regarding their ability to sustain independent living in their private homes, apprehensive of being confined to institutional care; a thought particularly distressing for those who might have spent their youth in similar establishments.
Issues surrounding the compensation scheme for survivors of reformatory and labour institutions is another substantial challenge, Carey discloses. The legislation is presently being considered by the Oireachtas, aiming to provide support for residential abuse survivors, after the allocation of the €110 million fund set by Caranua for residential institutions, distributed among over 55,000 individuals. This dissatisfaction returns as once again, substantial health support and monetary compensation for work – potentially ensuing into future pension payments for jobs performed while they were in these reformatory or labour institutions – were requested.
The general populace in Ireland has seemingly become desensitised to these historic atrocities, coming to view them as mere unfortunate incidents that took place in the past. Nevertheless, the repercussions continue to ripple through the generations of nearly a quarter of a million persons who were denied essential education, nourishment and healthcare whilst institutionalised. Alongside this long list of historical injustices, Carey argues there needs to be a collection of solutions spanning across generations. The intention is to compile and house the records of every institution, an endeavour she believes to be a substantial undertaking for the State due to their widespread dispersion.
Carey has been engaged with concerns raised by individuals who suspect they might have been participants in vaccine experiments. The official inquiry has spotted 13 trials that transpired over the period of 1922 to 1998. It’s a matter that, in her view, has yet to be comprehensively addressed and one she might bring to the attention of Minister Roderic O’Gorman.
She is also preparing to take on a significant role in the development of the forthcoming National Centre for Research and Remembrance, to be established at the location of the old Magdalene Laundry on Sean McDermott Street in Dublin 1. She’ll participate as part of the steering group, managed by former secretary general of the government and present Irish Ambassador to the UK, Martin Fraser. Fraser has requested her to incorporate the survivors’ perspectives into their discussions.
In Carey’s words, survivors aren’t a uniform entity and their viewpoints differ considerably. The national center has been met with differing opinions. There are those who believe funding ought to be directed towards an expensive memorial only after survivors’ rightful compensation and benefits are adequately financed. Some survivors still find the events exceedingly raw, questioning the need for their lives to be displayed in a museum.
However, Carey wants to dispel the prevailing misconceptions. She says, “We aspire to compile all records from all institutions, which would be quite a milestone for the State given their dispersion.” Yet, only individuals can access their personal records, whilst institutional ones will be available to researchers. In addition, the center intends to preserve and amass personal narratives from willing participants. Concerning the timeline for its inauguration, she hopes to see it open in about three years.
In the past, Carey occupied a role as services director at St Vincent de Paul, a mere few doors down from the planned center. Prior to that, she spent three years as a high school teacher. After feeling disillusioned with teaching, she decided to transition to jobs focussed on assisting people, beginning with working for the Traveller community. Today, she is head of the management board of her alma mater, Loreto College in Crumlin, and also chairs the national LGBTQ+ youth organization Belong To.
She remains committed to sharing details about her professional role with those who have suffered institutional mistreatment, both residing locally and internationally. Her purpose is to offer her ears. “Listening to others’ experiences and perspectives. Some might indeed be distressing and hard to swallow, given the traumatic experiences they’ve been through.”
Being a Bessborough child herself, the narratives she hears most surely underscore the lucky turn her life has taken in comparison.