It is eleven years, one month and a few days since I discovered we had a British Home Child in the family.
And like most descendants of a BHC I have been through the full set of emotions, from anger and despair that he was migrated, to total surprise that we knew nothing about him, and bewilderment that there are so few official papers recording his life.
Along the way I set myself the task of researching the story behind the migration of so many young people, a task made more difficult a decade ago, partly because there were few books about the subject and little public knowledge.
And where there is knowledge, it has tended to be about Australia after the pioneering work of Margaret Humphries.
Nor as you delve in to the policy do you come out with a clear “line” which allows you to demonize those who organized it while feeling nothing but pity for those transported across the Atlantic.
The motivations of those engaged in the “business” were mixed, there was no acceptance on the part of the Government or the Establishment to step in and care for the unfortunate young people and what protective legislation there was, came piecemeal.
Nor were all those who went as BHC, always blameless victims. In the case of our great uncle, the damage was already done long before he opted voluntarily to take the sea crossing.
And when he arrived in Canada having already been a troubled and difficult child, he proved wayward and unruly on the three farms he was placed, finally running away and joining the Canadian Expeditionary Force in 1915, and in the process lied about his age, his relatives and changed his name.
In his case the “damage” had been done a long time earlier. I could lay the blame at his mother.
She was wayward at best, but she was a single parent whose last child was born in the workhouse,at a time when there was little help.
She saw all of her four surviving children placed in a succession of institutions.
But she did make efforts to get them all back together, but failed and spent at least three decades in the local asylum.
And I could go on, citing great grandfather, the lack of a Welfare State, or Great Uncle Roger himself.
All had a part to play, but a full century and a bit after he was sent, getting angry is a waste of emotion.
Instead it is the duty of all of us to continue to raise awareness of what happened, dig deeper into the story and refuse to accept superficial interpretations.
The response to the British Government’s decision to offer limited compensation to some BHC has elicited a mix of reactions, not all of which have been welcoming.
But it seems to me that here, at least is a step forward, which has galvanized people to think about renewed activity to raise awareness, from pushing for more coverage in schools, colleges and universities on both sides of the Atlantic, to funding for bursaries to study BHC and for local events.
Here in Britain we are making members of our Facebook site to download a poster, or the power point and use it.
Getting even by making the story more known is always better than getting angry.
Pictures; siblings of our BHC, from the collection of Andrew Simpson
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| Great uncle Jack |
Along the way I set myself the task of researching the story behind the migration of so many young people, a task made more difficult a decade ago, partly because there were few books about the subject and little public knowledge.
And where there is knowledge, it has tended to be about Australia after the pioneering work of Margaret Humphries.
Nor as you delve in to the policy do you come out with a clear “line” which allows you to demonize those who organized it while feeling nothing but pity for those transported across the Atlantic.
The motivations of those engaged in the “business” were mixed, there was no acceptance on the part of the Government or the Establishment to step in and care for the unfortunate young people and what protective legislation there was, came piecemeal.
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| Granddad |
And when he arrived in Canada having already been a troubled and difficult child, he proved wayward and unruly on the three farms he was placed, finally running away and joining the Canadian Expeditionary Force in 1915, and in the process lied about his age, his relatives and changed his name.
In his case the “damage” had been done a long time earlier. I could lay the blame at his mother.
She was wayward at best, but she was a single parent whose last child was born in the workhouse,at a time when there was little help.
She saw all of her four surviving children placed in a succession of institutions.
But she did make efforts to get them all back together, but failed and spent at least three decades in the local asylum.
And I could go on, citing great grandfather, the lack of a Welfare State, or Great Uncle Roger himself.
 |
| Geat aunt Dolly |
Instead it is the duty of all of us to continue to raise awareness of what happened, dig deeper into the story and refuse to accept superficial interpretations.
The response to the British Government’s decision to offer limited compensation to some BHC has elicited a mix of reactions, not all of which have been welcoming.
But it seems to me that here, at least is a step forward, which has galvanized people to think about renewed activity to raise awareness, from pushing for more coverage in schools, colleges and universities on both sides of the Atlantic, to funding for bursaries to study BHC and for local events.
Here in Britain we are making members of our Facebook site to download a poster, or the power point and use it.
Getting even by making the story more known is always better than getting angry.
Pictures; siblings of our BHC, from the collection of Andrew Simpson
Thank you Andrew, a great perspective.
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