Tag Archives: Public Health

Adoptee rights is also a moral issue to ensure equal rights to good health, yet public health and health professionals ignore this intentionally

Rudy Owens, the author, is shown in a shot from September 2023 during a run in Finland’s Koli National Park. Despite a life of pursuing healthy activities like running, genetic health risk factors also play a key role in my health and life expectancy.

Just before the new year started, a biological relative on the maternal side of my family died. It was both sudden but maybe not a surprise.

My relative’s passing felt painfully tragic for those closest to my biological family member, despite my relative’s age.

The cause of death was cardiovascular disease. The disease is pervasive among my Finnish-American relatives and among my Finnish relatives I recently found in Finland. Ethnically, I am a quarter Finnish, and also Welsh, English and some other ethnicities I cannot fully confirm simply because I was born as an unwanted child whose father until his death refused to accept his paternity or provable genetic relationship to me.

Unlike many adult adoptees in the United States, who number in the millions, I at least have a very solid understanding of half of my heritage, on my birth mother’s side, including now my family health and family medical history.

My four biological grandparents all play a role in my health, passing down genetic traits and also risk factors that could impact my lifelong health.

According to the almost uniform consensus of the public health and medical fields, knowledge of family health history is one of the most important ways all persons can pursue and achieve good health.

The U.S. national public health service, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), tells Americans they need to be proactive in finding their family health history to achieve better health.

“Most people have a family health history of at least one chronic disease, such as cancer, heart disease, and diabetes,” the CDC says in its public guidance on genomics and precision health. “If you have a close family member with a chronic disease, you may be more likely to develop that disease yourself, especially if more than one close relative has (or had) the disease or a family member got the disease at a younger age than usual.”

Such advice, from the public health and medical experts, is science based, and is meant to help save lives.

Yet no medical health group or public health groups, including the CDC or professional groups like the American Heart Association or the American Diabetes Association—each focused on illnesses with well-documented genetic risk factors—has ever taken any action to promote the ending of legal discrimination in state adoption laws that deny family medical history to literally millions of U.S.-born adoptees.

I talked about the glaring hypocrisy of such health guidance in my memoir and public health examination of the U.S. adoption system. In my book, I address past and continuing failures of the medical and public health fields. Silence from these professions translates to harm for millions of adoptees, only because they are denied basic human and legal rights granted to others, and by consequence their family medical history by the force of law.

I published this in my book in 2018, and since that time, there is still no national campaign or policy initiative by medical and public health professionals and groups to support adoptees seeking, by law, legal access to their vital records.

These groups and experts have never cared, based on facts showing no documented efforts to support adoptees, even in public relations messaging. There is no public evidence visible anywhere they will reverse course and advocate to change laws helping adoptees. Their failure is palpable.

Collectively, this represents a complete moral and collective professional failure of these systems to improve the health of individuals and population health. Because those harmed are adoptees, this failure remains an acceptable form of collateral damage to ensure the U.S. adoption system remains a broadly accepted and beloved institution, that continues to be supported by the medical and public health professionals at all levels.

My risks as a someone one-quarter Finnish

When I learned about the death of my biological family member just before the start of 2024, it also did not surprise me.

I had found my biological kin in 1989. Since that time and as I got older, I was able to figure out some genetic health risks that were hidden from me as an adoptee by Michigan state law that remains on the books to this day. As someone trained in public health (I have an MPH from the University of Washington School of Public Health), I was more proactive in this self-research than most adoptees I have met.

Researchers have identified 39 genetic disease within the Finnish population, many fatal. Knowing one’s family medical history, such as these risk factors, is a right for everyone, including all adoptees.

As a group, many adoptees are tragically uninformed and unaware of the risks they face. Groups who advocate for adoptee rights by and large are silent on family medical health history considerations in their advocacy for reasons that baffle me to this day.

Finnish medical researchers have long identified genetic health risks for the Finnish population from inheritable conditions, including heart disease.

In the case of the Finnish people, centuries of isolation created genetic and health characteristics that today’s genetic health researchers are able to identify. Researchers have identified 39 such genetic diseases. Many are fatal. One genetics researcher, Dr. Leena Peltonen, notes: “Genetic diseases transform the family. You know the children won’t get better.”

Some of the health risks for Finns include congenital nephrosis and heart disease. In fact, Finland has highest rate of mortality from heart attacks in the Western world.

And with the passing of my relative and newly found knowledge of heart issues with my Finnish relatives that I only meet last September, I am now more mindful of what could strike me in the future too.

Luckily, I have been mostly vegetarian since I was 18 and have made a lifelong commitment to exercise, healthy dietary habits, and self-care. What I can’t do is change my genetics. In my case, I still only know half my family health history, on my maternal side, from my biological mother’s family.

I still know little about my paternal father’s families, either his mother or father. That story is explained in my book on why I have been denied this information as a matter of Michigan state law. As someone born as a bastard and as a product of the U.S. adoption system that denied me my birth identify, birth records, and family ancestry, I have no choice but to accept this reality. I accept it by advocating to change this upstream, working to change laws that deny family medical history to people only because of their birth status as adoptees.

After the death of my family member, I spoke to a bio-relative, who told me he will now speak about risks they face from heart disease. I also spoke a friend who is a doctor. He knows my status as an adoptee who found his family and is familiar as a doctor in Denmark with genetic risk factors. I appreciated his cheerful message to me, “I wouldn’t worry too much about heart disease, if I were you. We all have that coming if we live long enough. You live a healthy life. And more importantly you know how to make the most of it.”

Family medical history and current legislative discussions to restore adoptees’ rights

As I look ahead, I feel mostly good about my health. I treasure it.

However, I feel very little confidence that there will be any sea change among medical or public health groups and professionals to suddenly emerge as allies in legislative efforts to restore legal rights to adoptees to access their original birth certificates and vital records that may be accessible, as a matter of law. There seems to be willing professional indifference in the United States to a core idea articulated by the World Health Organization that the right to health is a basic human right, requiring legal measures to ensure that right.

Not one medical or public health group provided supportive statements during legislative discussions in the Michigan House of Representatives in November 2023 where two bills were adopted to restore such rights to Michigan-born adoptees, like me and tens of thousands of others. That is no different than other legislative debates that past five years where bills have been debated and reforms have been passed.

It is beyond my power to get this group of professionals to have a change of thinking, and right now, I have mostly stopped working towards this as an advocacy goal.

What I will still continue to do is remind my fellow adoptees about some proven wisdom: remember who your friends are and who they aren’t.

Never forget this.

As for those who professionally are obligated to promote health for everyone, your silence equates to indifference. You will own this so long as you stay silent.

Counting adoptions and not counting adoptions: a tale of two countries

Adoptions in Finland since 1987; source: Statistics Finland

Finland’s national agency tracking the country’s health and other data, called Statistics Finland, provides complete, accurate data on all adoptions in Finland. The Nordic country had less than 300 in 2020.

So here we have, again, another country that has mandated the counting of all adoptions–the way public health systems should work in modern countries, when those countries have functional national health systems.

The United States, by comparison, does not have such a system. In fact, it has a fractured national and state and local health public health systems in terms of coordination and funding and in addressing population health issues.

In addition, adoptions outside of intercountry adoption are not tracked in the United States as an explicitly desired outcome by the U.S. adoption system to hide its massive impact on our country, our residents, and even our collective population health.

We are lousy, and the way to fail at every step to be a functional nation is glaringly obvious again through adoption data and a simple country-to-country comparison.

Oh, by the way, Finland barely has any adoptions, and the numbers are actually dropping in recent years. Kudos, Finland, for a job well done!

Finland also has a robust national health system, and they are healthier and live longer than we do in the USA. I could go on, but I’ll stop there. I’m exhausted already.

‘Talking Story’ with Bryan Elliott on his podcast Living in Adoptionland

Bryan Elliott, host of Living in Adoptionland, and Rudy Owens, author of You Don’t Know How Lucky You Are

Earlier this month, I sat down with fellow adoptee and now podcaster Bryan Elliott to discuss the U.S. adoption system and why I wrote my book examining that institution and my journey through it. I had no idea where our conversation would land. However, I trusted Bryan’s professionalism as a writer, director, and multimedia producer to allow our conversation to wander where it naturally wanted to go.

Bryan posted our conversation this week on his podcast channel, Living in Adoptionland. I could not be happier with the interview and the high quality of the production.

Bryan had contacted me in late spring and invited me to his new show, which he launched in late May. And he’s been busy, having already published nearly a dozen shows, with conversations with some fellow adoptees I know from their advocacy on Twitter and other spaces where adoptees advocate for reform to a system that has impacted millions of people.

Bryan shares this summary why he’s producing his show now. He describes it as “the podcast I wish I had before I started on my journey more than 25 years ago. It’s a mosaic of real stories from the adoption community which includes parents who gave up their children, families struggling with infertility and natural conception, and the often silent adult adoptees.”

Before we taped the podcast, with Bryan in southern California and me in Portland, we agreed to a couple of ground rules. One was that I did not want to be involved in efforts that were contrary to my larger goal in writing my book of restoring rights to adoptees, and he respected that. Another point we both agreed to was to not center ourselves in the much larger national crisis surrounding the Supreme Court’s ending of legal abortion in the United States in June with its disastrous decision to overturn Roe v. Wade. That recent, historic decision by the right-leaning court ended nearly 50 years of bedrock reproductive and legal rights secured for women.

Both of us, in our conversations before the taping, recognized this decision had tremendous impacts on women. As adult adoptees, we also both knew too well what this likely meant for the promotion of adoption by those who overturned this half-century-old legal precedent. Speaking for myself, I believe Bryan shared my own view that having two white guys talking about an issue that impacts so many women, including many brown and black women, would not be appropriate, even though as adoptees we probably would have critical perspectives to share on the national policy debate that is falsely promoting adoption as the policy alternative to abortion healthcare. In the end, we did mention this topic because one cannot talk about adoption in 2022 without talking about abortion and how that intersects with adoptees as a huge group of Americans.

With the big issues agreed upon, we could then turn to other topics he wanted to ask about and I was able to share about my now four-year-old memoir and public health analysis of this massive and still discriminatory system. Some of the themes I touched on were:

  • Understanding how adoption must be seen sociologically because of its history tied to the larger historic problem of illegitimacy;
  • How doctors played a bedrock role in the massive expansion of adoption in the United States after the 1940s and how that role ensures it remains a legitimate and acceptable “practice,” even when it separates mothers and their children;
  • How my life as an adoptee has evolved over time, providing me insights shared by writers and thinkers I admire, including Viktor Frankl;
  • Explaining to others how being adopted and being denied rights means confronting lies, discrimination, and harm that is institutionalized and continues to harm countless persons.

I would encourage those who are interested in learning more about adoption to listen to his previous interviews and to bookmark his podcast platform. And as an adoptee, I want to say how refreshing it is to talk about adoption and not have my basic human rights challenged because the interviewer did not do their homework in understanding how adoption impacts millions of persons denied their legal rights and basic human rights to know who they are.

Thanks again, Bryan. Keep up the great work. I will be tuning in again to more conversations on Living in Adoptionland.

To learn more about Bryan, visit his website here. You can reach out to Bryan here.

You can continue to reach me on my website. My hope is this conversation inspired some listeners to want to learn more and buy my book. 

If you aren’t counted, you don’t count

The upcoming 2020 Census will ask a question about some adoptees, who are younger and in a household with parents/guardians, and not count those who are older and are heads of households.

My guest column on the upcoming 2020 Census and how it will, again, fail to count all U.S. adoptees was published today (Aug. 17, 2019) in the Eugene Register-Guard newspaper. In my column I highlight how the last two national headcounts of all Americans failed to accurately count all U.S. adoptees. (You can also see a slightly different version of my column, with footnotes and references, on this page.)

I show how this failure to account for all adoptees represents part of a decades-long problem in how adoption and adoptees have been left out of official systems that should be counting them.

My book on the U.S. adoption system, You Don’t Know How Luck You Are, documents in greater detail how these glaring failures in our vital records and public-health systems are not accidental and should be seen as policy failures that should have long-provoked calls for reform, especially from the public-health community.

My piece makes one of the most basic points about politics and policy-making: If you aren’t counted, you don’t count. Unfortunately, the 2020 Census will again fail to acknowledge the presence of millions of adoptees, who still do not count by being denied equal treatment by law and by being denied unfettered access to their original vital records.