A two-edged sword. That is what critical thinkers everywhere have been calling Nebraska's new legalized child abandonment policy. In most states, abandonment of infants at hospitals and other designated safe zones is lawful. Nowhere can you abandon a child over the age of 1 ... almost nowhere anyway. In July, Nebraska passed a safe-haven law that has proved itself to be recklessly ambiguous. It failed to define the term "child," allowing for an interpretation so broad, its effects have been unpredictable and unprecedented. As long as they haven't been detectably abused, any baby, youth or adolescent under the age of 19 can be abandoned by a legal guardian without consequence. The obvious holes in this legislation have been recognized and, luckily, the entire idea is being reevaluated by Nebraska's legislators. But not before the system has been heavily abused in almost every way imaginable.
On Sept. 24, a single father from Omaha surrendered his children to the Creighton University Medical Center emergency room ... nine of them, ranging in age from 1 to 17. The man said that since the recent death of his wife, he has found himself incapable of dealing with the emotional and financial pressures of parenthood.
Also recently abandoned at the Creighton University Medical Center was a 14-year-old girl, left last Tuesday by her grandparents who shortly thereafter "changed their minds," according to officials, as reported by the Associated Press. The girl was returned to their custody. In this case, guardians used the law to "teach the girl a lesson," said Todd Landry, head of the Nebraska division of Children and Family Services.
Just this week, a Michigan mother drove her 13-year-old son 12 hours to abandon him at a hospital in Omaha, making him the second out-of-state child and 18th child overall to be abandoned since the law took effect. Nebraska is becoming a dumping ground for unwanted children.
My feelings on these abuses of the system are torn; in one case, I am filled with disgusted outrage, in another, stomach-wrenching pity, and sometimes, the same account conjures up both emotions within me simultaneously. I see the irresponsible father who was ill-prepared for life's twists and turns and the defeated widower in an inescapable abyss who parts with his children with shame, sorrow and sacrifice.
Perhaps, my dichotomous reactions are irrelevant. Perhaps what I should be concerned with is the plight of the abandonees, not the abandoners. Abandonment is a two-edged sword in and of itself. Being abandoned carries with it debilitating hurt and lasting, attenuating emotional scars. But so does remaining with someone who would abandon you if they had the chance.
I think about the boy in the passanger's seat on that 12-hour drive from Detroit. Did he know? What were those hours filled with for him? Bewilderment? Torture? Numbness? Was the drive to the hospital like a walk to the gallows, or had he been abandoned long before?
This issue boils down to a classic moral question, one that has been visited and revisited by legislators and social workers, concerned teachers and neighbors, and those critical thinkers I mentioned before. How do you protect the best interest of children most completely? Do you allow them to be abandoned by parents who can't or won't give them what they need? Do you let them take the bullet and heal in a system that may or may not offer them something closer to a nurturing environment? Or, do you let them wither away under guardians who would drop them off at a hospital in Nebraska, if only it were legal?
Officials have encouraged parents to use abandonment only as a last resort. Desperate parents are being told to ask for help from family, community services and religious groups first. But with 18 children abandoned already, it's clear that a different approach is needed. Yes, more specific regulations need to be made. The age definition of "child" needs to be clarified, and returning custody to guardians who have relinquished it needs to be prohibited. But what's equally important is that family, community services and religious groups seek out desperate parents, rather than waiting to be sought out by them. Parents considering abandonment are already too far gone. Recent events have made that clear.
In answering that classic moral question, we'll have to do what we always do - find a balance somewhere in between that protects children without demolishing parental responsibility. There will be casualties. In an imperfect world, there will always be casualties. But with a little more consciousness, a little more support, a little more willingness to reach out to the near-desperate, we can keep healthy kids out of Nebraska's hospitals.
Copyright Brigham Young University 15 Oct 2008
