Why Children Should Not Be Taken Away from their Parents

Stop Separating Immigrant Families Press Conference and Rally Chicago Illinois on June 5, 2018. This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic license. Author: Charles Edward Miller.

Note  from Kathie MM: As too often happens, a major human rights issue has become a political football, human beings are suffering, and important evidence about the outcomes of yet another instance of some people’s inhumanity to others is being ignored.  But Dr. Alice LoCicero has some insights to share.

by Alice LoCicero

It is hard for me to believe that while the vast majority of Americans are disturbed by the sight of immigrant parents and children being summarily separated, and babies being remanded to group care, some Americans are not. Yesterday, results of a Quinnipiac poll showed although 66% of Americans reject the policy, 27 % favor it.

The policy has been called child abuse, torture, inhumane. Many have warned that it will do irreparable harm to the families. Others have glibly suggested that the children’s centers are like summer camps and some have even cast doubt on the idea that these separations are causing distress, maintaining that the wailing babies and children are child actors.

For people who are interested in what science has t0 say on the subject, great deal of evidence has accrued,  inspired by the many unanticipated and unwanted separations of children from parents during World War II. We know from studies inspired by observations of children and babies separated from parents that babies who receive adequate hygienic care and food but no affection become more vulnerable to illness, and some die.  Lack of affection can also cause developmental neurological problems: See https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-athletes-way/201310/parental…

The high numbers of children separated from their parents during the war inspired a great deal of research on attachment, separation, and loss, by John Bowlby and by James and Joyce Robertson, who during World War II, worked with Anna Freud in the wartime nurseries of Hampstead.

The Robertsons developed a knowledge base of what happens to children separated from parents in times of trouble and crisis. They not only observed children directly, but also made several compelling—and heartbreaking—films. One dramatic film documenting the aftermath of separation of young children from parents and placement in group care  is called “John, aged 17 months for nine days in a residential nursery,” about a child whose parents believed he would get good care in a nursery setting while his mother was in a hospital giving birth to a sibling.

The nursery where John was placed had good food, a clean environment, many toys, trained caregivers, and other children about his age. The ratio of children to caregivers was not unreasonable for a group care setting. But over nine days, John went from being an obviously happy, well-developed child who could be helped, fed, and comforted by the staff  to a child who refused food, seldom played, and simply looked depressed.  After nine days, he looked like a person in despair.

This is the kind of decline we can expect for many of the young children summarily separated from their parents and placed with strangers—even if they are provided the best available physical care, food, and a hygienic environment. John was fortunate to be reunited with his parents after nine days. But where is the plan to reunite the parents and children who have been separated at the border?

The Robertsons’ films  showed children separated from parents  protesting at first , then despairing, and finally detaching from others. The films led to revolutionary changes in pediatric inpatient care–from parents being  allowed only occasionally to visit their children to parents being welcomed as part of the caretaking team.

Perhaps it is time to show these films to the 27% of Americans who think separating children from their parents at the border is a good idea.  Perhaps it will take 100% of us to stop this madness and reunite the families that have been ripped apart for political purposes.

Alice LoCicero Ph.D., ABPP, is President, Society for the Study of Peace and Conflict (Peace Psychology)

This post is a lightly edited version of a post published June 20, 2018 on the Psychology Today website: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/paradigm-shift

Peace, too, takes courage. 

 

These are our children, Part 3

Photo by Deryal Yulsel, 2017

By Deryal Yuksel

Note from Kathie MM: This is the final installment of Deryal’s photo essay, which introduced us to Hasan, Hatun, Hanna, and  Ali, Syrian refugees who currently live in Istanbul, Turkey. Please look at their faces, hear their words. feel their goodness, and think of their rights as children to a safe and decent life.

“I can write in Arabic.”

 

“We all live in the same house.”
Hasan, Hatun, Hanna, and Ali, with photo essayist Deryal

Note from Kathie MM:  It is true.  We all live in the same house: Mother Earth. If Earth is to survive, we must do all we can to protect it and all the living thing who inhabit it.

These are our children, Part 2

“And then we ran away. Then we went in our home with our mothers. Everyone got in (the car). We carried some of our clothes. Then we came here (Istanbul).”

By Deryal Yuksel

In last Wednesday’s post , we introduced you to Hasan, Hatun, Hanna, and Ali, child refugees from Aleppo, Syria, who currently live in Istanbul, Turkey. Their story continues in this photo essay.

Unfortunately, most refugees experience indifference and neglect. We must recognize that change is never easy, especially if you are missing your homeland that no longer exists. It will make a big difference if we sharpen our senses and expand our outlook on humanity.  Take a moment to hear the stories of these four children.

*The quotes in the photo captions  come directly from the children and are translated into English.

“Then we carried our grandfather to the room. Then he died too.”

 

*Hasan taught me to sing one of his favorite songs in Arabic, Safer Ya Habibi. The translation of the song is “Travel my beloved, and return.”
“I am this many years old.”

 

“People take our photographs on the streets and then offer us money.”
“We moved to Istanbul four years ago.”
“We are bringing some clothes home.”
“The people here do not let us pose for their photographs the way that we would like to. They tell us to lift our arm, and do what they tell us to do and this bothers us a lot. They do not treat us right.”
“My father’s brother died. A bomb hit him and killed him.”
“My sister was born in our house in Turkey.”
“We are going to hang the photographs in our home.”
*On the streets, the children were offering small antique keys to promote peace.

Note from Kathie MM: I hope we will all do what these Syrian refugee children are requesting: Promote peace for all.  If we do not promote peace for everyone, there will be peace for no one.

These are our children, Part 1

“We came from Syria! We came from Aleppo!”

By Deryal Yuksel

Meet Hasan, Hatun, Hanna and Ali. They are refugees from Aleppo, Syria. They are lost between two lands, feeling accepted by none. Istanbul’s historic Balat district, is their new playground.

Sometimes words in newspaper articles are just not enough for us to understand the Syrian refugee crisis.  This series of shots depicts an individual perspective on the Syrian refugee crisis in Istanbul, Turkey.

I am so lucky that I can call these children my friends. We began taking photographs of each other on the street. All the photographs were taken for fun, and that is what makes them very real. I taught them how to use my camera. They taught me games and songs, but most importantly, they taught me to understand their hardships.

Unfortunately, most of the refugees experience indifference and neglect in societies. We all must recognize that change is never easy, especially if you are missing your homeland that no longer exists. It will make a big difference if we sharpen our senses and expand our horizons on humanity. So, please take a moment to learn about the stories of these four children.

*The quotes in the photographs (below) directly come from the children and are translated into English.

“My name is Hasan. I am seven years old.”
“My name is Hatun. I am nine years old.”

 

“My name is Ali. I am five years old.”
My name is Hanna. I am ten years old.”
“People always call us beggars. They say, look, look at the beggars begging on the street.”
“Our grandfather died while traveling to Turkey with us. We are very upset. God rest his soul.”

Deryal Yuksel graduated as a Psychology major from Boston University.  She is interested in street photography and the lives of the people she shoots, particularly Syrian refugees. There is a stigma in the country that needs to be broken, and she hopes to raise awareness with photography.