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| Just seeing that photo of babies in cots lined up waiting to be “chosen” fills me with sadness. Is one of them me? How can I know? There are no photos of me when I was born, no record of my first nine weeks, no time of birth or weight. For the first 30 years of my life I had no knowledge of my roots and kin, or even that it was normal to want to know. The commodification of children (us) and putting the rights of parents over the rights of the child was inhumane back then and still is today |
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