Appealing to a Mother's Instinct, A Citizen's Duty:
Adoption in the United States, 1890-1920
Julie Berebitsky
Temple University
Dept. of History
Philadelphia, PA 19122
email: jberebitQastro.ocis.temple.edu
To be presented at the annual convention of the Organization of American
Historians, April 1997,
San Francisco, CA
Do not cite without written permission from the author
In 1909, an adoptive mother wrote to a popular women's magazine describing
her adoption experience. Ralph, her adopted son, was "a beautiful
child, with so much temperament and character that no one else had succeeded
in handling him until I got him...He was a waif, and has it in him to make
a fine man, but could easily become a poor one under the wrong circumstances....I
never really lived until Ralph came to be my little boy" (1). This
woman's representation of adoption reflected the popular understanding
of adoption as "rescuing" a child and the culture's idealization
of a mother's love and belief that it was a mother's duty to raise productive
citizens.
In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, some reformers, journalists,
and concerned citizens urged middle class, native-born women to take the
ever-growing number of dependent children into their homes where they could
raise them into productive citizens. These appeals played to women's "maternal
instinct," but emphasized women's civic duty; if the image of an innocent
child languishing in a sterile institution failed to stir a woman's emotions,
then her fears could be aroused by the specter of a society terrorized
by the same child who, raised without maternal guidance, lacked a sense
of honor or patriotism. As mothers, women had the future of society in
their hands: they would determine whether these poor children grew up to
be worthy and useful citizens or to fill the jails and almshouses (2).
Women answered these appeals and opened their homes to children both as
adoptive and foster mothers. Their responses, however, emphasized their
desire to nurture and love a child. Ultimately, for most adoptive mothers,
a motherhood undertaken primarily as a citizen's obligation proved incompatible
with their understanding of motherhood as an heartfelt emotion. For these
women, an identity as a "real" mother ranked higher than one
as an ideal citizen.
This paper considers representations of adoption as they appeared in popular
magazines targeted at women audiences. By examining the construction of
adoption as duty and adoptive mothers' response, we can gain a glimpse
into women's private understanding of their role as a mother and their
responsibility as a citizen. We can also see how an ideology of motherhood
which equates mothering with a woman's civic duty can be turned to conservative
and exclusionary ends.
Society has always been concerned with transforming poor, dependent children
into hard-working, obedient citizens. By the late nineteenth century, many
social reformers believed that placement in family homes provided better
training for citizenship than orphanages or other institutions. Although
the affections of a family might increase a child's happiness, the main
objective was to train the child for ultimate self-sufficiency. Advocates
of placing-out (what we refer to today as foster care) argued that only
as a member of a family could children learn the skills to deal with the
problems they would face as adults, especially in regard to finances (3).
Early advocates of adoption also emphasized the civilizing aspects of home
life. In 1852, The Temporary Home for the Destitute in Boston, one of the
first institutions in the country to place children for adoption, stated
that adoption opened to children, "...Honorable pursuits, dignified
employments, respectable alliances...They become a valid and productive
element in the structure of our republican civilization (4).
By the turn-of-the-century, a number of factors combined to focus even
more attention on the care of dependent children. The rapid influx of immigrants
from southern and eastern Europe contributed to a general fear of foreigners
and a concern over maintaining the cultural dominance of Anglo-Saxons.
Meanwhile, the birth rate among middle-class, American-born women declined
dramatically over the course of the nineteenth century. Many believed that
these women actively avoided pregnancy simply because they did not want
to be inconvenienced. At the same time, immigrants were reproducing at
double the rate of their native-born counterparts. While eugenicists, sociologists
and psychologists studied and lamented, Theodore Roosevelt succinctly summed
up what many feared: America's "best stock" was committing "race
suicide." Passionately urging his listeners to procreate, Roosevelt
referred to motherhood as woman's "duty," comparable to a man's
military service. Popular magazines were filled with articles calling on
women to bear children for the national good. As the panic over race-suicide
escalated, childless married women found themselves portrayed more and
more as selfish women who had "shirked" their duty. And, in an
era in which infertility was not openly discussed, involuntarily childless
women received largely the same public censure as women who had consciously
decided to forego childbearing or to limit their families (5).
If native-born, white, middle-class women were not going to have more children,
some commentators believed they at least could help by raising the masses
of dependent, largely immigrant children into solid American citizens.
Since the American Revolution, the ideology of motherhood held that women
best fulfilled their duty to the nation by training their children to be
productive and moral citizens. "Republican Motherhood," as this
construction of woman's role was called, justified women's access to education,
provided women with a political identity, and invested mothering with a
power which transcended the four walls of her home. The connection between
motherhood and women's civic duty appeared in varying emphases and in a
variety of manifestations throughout the nineteenth century. In the case
of adoption at the turn of this century, a woman's maternal influence was
extended to include motherless children or children whose mothers were
not up to the task. It also altered the nature of a mother's relationship
to the state; whereas a republican mother met her civic obligations in
private service to the men of her household, these mothers lost the intermediary
of their husbands and entered into a more public and direct service to
the country yet still remained in their homes. Articles on adoption before
1920 emphasized the redemptive aspect of adoption and encouraged women
-- especially childless women -- to see adoption as part of their civic
duty to society (6).
The most extended adoption appeal that emphasized women's civic obligation
appeared in a popular women's magazine, The Delineator, in its "Child-Rescue
Campaign" which ran from late 1907 to early 1911. The series hoped
to match up the nation's childless homes and homeless children and bring
an end to the practice of caring for dependent children in institutions
(7). In October of 1907, The Delineator published an article, "The
Child without a Home," which told of the 25,000 poor, primarily immigrant
children who lived without a mother's love in institutions throughout New
York. Although the article sympathetically portrayed the plight of these
children, it also underscored the potential threat they posed to society.
The series officially began the next month in an issue featuring "The
Home without a Child," written by Lydia Kingsmill Commander. Commander,
author of numerous articles on social problems and a book on race-suicide,
exposed the thousands of well-to-do childless homes in New York City in
which women played with teddy-bears instead of babies. She went on to urge
the nation's women, especially childless married women, to adopt homeless
children (8).
This issue also contained the first installment of the "Child-Rescue
Campaign." Each month the campaign featured the photos and life stories
of dependent children who were available to any interested reader who wanted
to take them out of an institution and into their home. Although the initial
issue stated that the children could be taken by the placing-out system,
indenture, or adoption, readers showed an overwhelming willingness to adopt
the children legally and the subsequent children profiled were offered
for adoption. The series was an immediate success. "The Child without
a Home" received more responses than any other story in that issue
and well-over three hundred readers wrote in requesting the first two children
profiled (9).
In addition to the children's profiles, each issue generally contained
a story related to the series' goals of pairing up childless homes and
homeless children and ending institutional care. Some warned of the dangers
of institutional life and the threat children raised without a mother's
love and guidance posed to society. "Where 100,000 Children Wait,"
the most famous of this type, was reprinted in pamphlet form and distributed
without cost. Published on the first anniversary of the series, the article
included a description of the effects of institutional life on a young
boy that highlighted the potential cost to society. "At first, when
nobody cares for him, he is only sad. Later, when he cares for nobody,
he is unsafe" (10).
The Delineator also emphasized the importance of children's environment
in their ultimate development which helped women overcome any lingering
fears about taking a child with a questionable background. The "Child-Rescue
Campaign" coincided with strong eugenics and temperance movements
which warned of the evils of the hereditary taint. Eugenicists were among
the most vocal in their efforts to get the country's "better stock"
to procreate, but they did not advocate adoption. One well-known eugenicist
stated publicly that any offspring of adopted children "would be degenerates"
(11). The Delineator countered by offering the opinions of both
adoptive mothers and reformers such as Jacob Riis, who maintained they
had witnessed first hand that "heredity is much, but environment is
more." The Delineator maintained that a good mother could overcome
any child's "evil heredity" and raise "manly and womanly,
honorable citizens" (12). The respected women on the advisory committee
agreed. Mrs. Harry Hastings, founder of the Society for Study of Child
Nature and a member of the New York School Board, stated that the campaign
was "really patriotic" and "of the highest value to the
social fabric." Mrs. Frederick Dent Grant believed the campaign was
"vital in that it supplies God-fearing citizens for the coming generation"
(13).
Again and again, The Delineator appealed to women's sense of their
civic duty, a duty that they could fulfill best through their role as mother.
Again and again, The Delineator painted the stark contrast between
a child raised with a mother's love and one raised without: "upright
men and women" or a "burden on the commonwealth," vagabonds,
paupers and criminals or honest, hard-working citizens, a "potential
addition to the productive capacity...of the nation" or to the "destructive
forces of the community" (14). In looking back on the first year of
the series, The Delineator's publisher summed up the progress thus:
"we found for them [the profiled children] good influences upon whom
no one can tell what other influences might have come and through them
on down the ages to the end of earthly things good shall be where evil
might have been" (15).
The Delineator's editors emphatically and unquestionably trusted
that placing these children with Christian, American-born, middle-class
mothers was the way to save society and improve the citizenry. This belief
mirrored the ideology behind the larger movement to "Americanize"
new immigrants and suggested a fear of ethnic difference (16). In 1918,
James West, who had been one of the leading forces behind the Child-Rescue
Campaign and was now Chief Executive of the Boy Scouts of America, wrote
Theodore Dreiser, The Delineator's editor at the time of the Campaign,
regarding one of the young boys profiled in the series. The boy, John,
was now 14. His adoptive mother had written West because her son had accidentally
lost his Scout Medal and she hoped he could replace it. The mother, whose
ancestors arrived on the Mayflower, knew of West's role in the series and
took two pages to update him on the boy's progress in school and in the
Scouts. She assured West that "no own son was ever more lovable, more
trustworthy, more obedient...." She also mentioned the child's German
ancestry. West was so pleased with this "definite evidence" of
the success of the Campaign that he sent a copy of the mother's letter
to Dreiser.
In his cover letter, West mentions the child's success and the joy he brings
to his adoptive mother, but he especially focuses on the redemptive quality
of adoption. As he tells Dreiser, in addition to the boy's progress in
school, "there is the dramatic feature that the boy is of German parentage
but in spite of this fact, is developing into a fine patriotic loyal American
citizen." West's focus on the child's ethnicity could be understand
within the context of the anti-German hysteria which had swept the nation
at the outbreak of World War I. It also reflects his (and The Delineator's)
understanding of adoption as social conservation and a means to protect
and save society (17).
Others also saw adoption as a way to enhance the nation's citizenry. Mrs.
Charles Judson, a physician's wife who privately placed children for adoption
out of her home in Philadelphia, stressed that adoption was a means to
provide the country with better citizens. Judson believed adoption gave
"to our country more of the best class of American citizens. Our forebears,
through toil and struggle, often gained ideals, culture, refinement, and
beliefs which have built up this nation. So many families where such inheritance
obtains are childless. If a child is adopted and these ideals and beliefs
passed down to it, we create another American citizen, guided by the same
uplifting faiths as held and helped our forefathers (18).
Women were urged to adopt as part of their civic duty, but, the question
remains, did women actually adopt because they thought it was their duty?
Did adoptive mothers really believe they were "rescuing" children
and thereby saving society? Or, were they motivated by a personal desire
to mother a child? It is difficult to untangle the web of motivations especially
since rescuing a child and sincerely loving a child are not mutually exclusive
(19). I am arguing that the primary motivation for the majority of women
who adopted was the desire to mother, to give care and love to a child
-- an understandable desire given the culture's glorification of mothers
and valuation of women primarily as mothers -- especially for involuntarily
childless married women in the middle of a race-suicide panic (20). At
the same time, however, their experience of adoption was shaped by the
portrayal of adoption as rescue, as women's duty. To understand adoption
at this point in history, it is crucial to examine women's individual experiences
within the context of the prevailing narratives about adoption at that
time.
Stories about adoption which emphasized adopting dependent children as
a woman's duty occurred in a time when adoption was not yet completely
accepted. The complete social acceptance of "sentimental adoptions,"
that is, taking a child solely to create a family, had not yet occurred.
These articles, and especially the on-going campaign in The Delineator,
represent the first time adoption was publicly discussed in a sustained
way. The construction of adoption as rescue might have helped women who
wanted to adopt but previously had not because they feared the sting of
disapproving words. These articles gave women a context within which to
understand their experience and explain it to others. Hence, a desire to
mother was not incompatible with a duty to rescue (21).
On the few occasions when adoptive mothers had the opportunity to describe
their experience, they sometimes did so in ways that reflected both the
values of civic duty and their intensely personal feelings. As one adoptive
mother described her experience, "At first we thought we would do
it as a duty, now duty is no longer the thought, it is the pleasure love
brings." Still another explained that "We are not offering to
take a child solely because we want a child in our childless home, but
we feel deeply that it is God's will that we should take one in the discharge
of our duty in the rescuing of helpless orphans from miserable lives and
disgrace (22). These narratives allowed adoptive mothers to present their
experience in such a way that their decision to adopt could not be challenged
-- they were fulfilling their civic duty -- and their sincere desire for
a child and genuine mother's love could be expressed.
An article entitled "A Plea for Adoption" which appeared in 1911
in Good Housekeeping Magazine sheds light on the way adoptive mothers,
as opposed to social commentators, understood adoption. The article was
actually a lengthy letter to the editor written by an adoptive mother from
Kentucky that described her motivation to adopt as grounded in a desire
to mother, not a duty to save. This woman's only biological child had died
and she was unable to have any others. When she could not suffer her "loneliness"
and "sorrow" anymore, she adopted a child to whom she could give
her mother's love. It was only towards the end of the letter, as the woman
attempted to convince readers who might be hesitant to adopt that the social
aspect of adoption was mentioned. As the author states, "...the chance
that one may make a splendid man of a boy who otherwise would remain a
charge upon charity is surely sufficient incentive to induce one to brave
the responsibility." Good Housekeeping, however, choose to emphasize
this aspect by head-lining the letter, "The Large Opportunity, Not
to Say Duty, Which Confronts Childless Couples (23).
Many women completely avoided the issue of duty in their descriptions of
adoptive motherhood -- their purpose was to lay claim to an identity as
a "real" mother. As one adoptive mother stated, "They say
that I can never know the feeling of a real mother, of the woman whose
mortal frame has endured the martyrdom of a physical maternity, but nevertheless
he is my son, the son of my spiritual self, of all that is best in me."
Another adoptive mother asserted that "the shrill piping cry"
of her adopted daughter filled her "with a wonder that could not have
been greater had [she] brought forth the little one with anguish (24).
For adoptive mothers who wanted an identity as real mothers, the construction
of adoption as rescue created a huge distinction between their experience
and that of a biological mother. The popular understanding of a mother's-love
encompassed feelings far stronger, far more ethereal than fulfilling your
civic obligations. The culture's belief that women had a duty to civilize
society propelled women into careers as reformers, educators, and health
professionals -- if the society believed adoption was a woman's duty, then
adoptive mothers merely occupied a place on the continuum of ways non-mothers
expressed their maternal feelings (25).
The experience of adoptive mothers suggests that for many women an identity
as a mother was more important than an identity as a citizen. Adoptive
mothers who had biological children might have viewed their adoptions as
a sign of their commitment to the state, but for childless women living
in a society which stigmatized and condemned them, adoption was a way to
join the community of mothers. These women wanted acceptance as real mothers,
not praise for raising derelict children. They understood their primary
duty as loving a child, not raising a citizen.
Their story also highlights how the ideology of republican motherhood could
be turned to conservative ends. some of the appeals to women to adopt or
foster children can be seen as sincere attempts to act in the best interests
of the child. Others, however, clearly reflect efforts to maintain the
moral and cultural hegemony of the "best stock." Appeals to women
to adopt as an expression of their civic obligation assumed a specific
type of mother and mothering. The motivations of many women who did adopt,
however, were not so clear-cut and reflected the larger cultural pressure
on all women to be mothers as well as the immediate pressures of this moment
in history.
ENDNOTES
1. The Delineator 74 (August, 1909), 134.
2. Most reformers were for placing children in foster homes instead of
in institutions if their parent(s) could not keep them, but they did not
advocate adoption unless there was no chance the child ever could be returned
to her/his parent(s). Many reformers, in fact, worked for things like mother's
pensions which would help keep biological families together. However, discussions
about adoption occurred most often in the context of placing-out (foster
care); that is, adoption was not yet seen as completely distinct from temporary
foster care, but was understood as just a permanent version of placing
out. Consequently, the rhetoric surrounding foster care which often focused
on the need to raise dependent children (i.e. poor, often immigrant children)
into good citizens reflected on adoption.
Other commentators, however, such as The Delineator series discussed
in this paper, took a less sympathetic view about keeping poor families
together and seemed to believe children, not to mention society, would
be much better off if dependent children were adopted into middle-class
homes.
3. For a through discussion of the history of the placing-out movement,
see Susan Tiffen, In Whose Best Interest? (Westport, CT: Greenwood
Press, 1982), Chapter 4.
4. Annual Report, 1852, Temporary Home for the Destitute, Boston,
MA, p. 5, as quoted in Jamil Zainaldin, "The Origins of Modern Legal
Adoption: Child Exchange in Boston, 1851-93," Ph.D. dies., The University
of Chicago, 1976.
5. Two recent works have done an excellent job of describing what it would
have been like to have been childless in such a pronatalist society. See
Margaret Marsh and Wanda Ronner, The Empty Cradle, (Baltimore: The
Johns Hopkins University Press, 1996) and Elaine Tyler May, Barren in
the Promised Land (New York: Basic Books, 1995), especially Chapter
Two.
6. Linda Kerber, Women of the Republic (New York: W.W. Norton &
Co., 1980) and "The Obligations of Citizenship," in Linda Kerber,
Alice Kessler-Harris and Kathryn Kish Sklar, eds., U.S. History as Women's
Historv (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1995).
Catharine Beecher in the mid-nineteenth century was one of the first women
to argue that motherhood was a social, not biological role and that women
who did not have children of their own should find other ways, such as
teaching, to help society in a maternal way. See Kathryn Kish Sklar, Catharine
Beecher: A Study in American Domesticity (New York: W.W. Norton, 1973).
7. By 1912, The Delineator had a mail circulation of almost one
million. Frank Luther Mott, A History of American Magazines, 1865-1885
Vol. 3 (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1938), 481-90.
The "Child-Rescue Campaign" generated a tremendous amount of
reader response, fully 20% of all the correspondence the Editorial Department
received. The Papers of Theodore Dreiser, Special Collections, Van Pelt-Dietrich
Library, University of Pennsylvania, Folder 1465, The Delineator Correspondence,
December 24, 1910.
8. Mabel Potter Daggett, "The Child Without a Home," The Delineator
70 (October 1907), 505-510; Lydia Kingsmill Commander, "The Home Without
a Child," The Delineator 70 (November, 1907), 720-723, 830.
Childless, married couples were not the only people to adopt. At this point
in history, married couples with children, especially those whose children
were grown or dead or who only had one child, often adopted. Single women
of means also adopted.
9. The Delineator 71 (March, 1908), 337, 425.
10. Mabel Potter Daggett, "Where 100,000 Children Wait," The
Delineator 75 (November, 1908), 860; 75 (January, 1910), 54, 68.
11. Mark Haller, Eugenics (New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers University
Press, 1963), 170-171; Henry Goddard, "Wanted: A Child to Adopt,"
Survey 27 (October 14, 1911): 1004.
12. The Delineator 74 (August, 1909), 134; The Delineator
70 (November, 1907), 719; The Delineator 72 (July, 1908), 113; Jacob
Riis, "God's Children, Give Them a Chance: A Comparison of the Influence
of Heredity and Environment," The Delineator 71 (May, 1908),
809; Lucy Huffaker, "Waifs Who Have Become Famous," The Delineator
71 (June, 1908), 1005.
13. The Delineator 70 (November, 1907), 719; Jambor, 35, footnote
14. The Delineator 72 (October, 1908), 576, 578;73 (May, 1909),
696.
15. Dreiser papers, Folder 882, George Wilder to Dreiser, cat October,
1908.
16. For fears of ethnic difference see, for example, The Delineator
(April, 1908), 611. For the movement to "Americanize" immigrants
during the Progressive Era, see John Higham, Strangers in the Land:
Patterns of American Nativism. 1860-1925 (New Brunswick, N.J. 1955).
17. Dreiser papers, Folder 6585, James West correspondence, April 27, 1918.
John had been abandoned by his birth parents at the age of 11 months. He
was 4 years old when The Delineator profiled him in the January,
1908 issue. He was adopted by a couple whose only son had died.
18. "Training Babies for the 'Golden Spoon,"' Literary Digest
52 (April 8, 1916), 1020.
19. Judith Modell, Kinship with Strangers (Berkeley: University of California
Press), 21, 45.
20. As a feminist historian, one of my aims is to explore how at various
times the culture enforced/encouraged motherhood or, in other words, how
maternal desire can be culturally constructed. However, I also want to
accept and respect as truthful, any woman's expressed desire to mother
-- regardless of the social mandate to mother.
21. For a discussion of the move towards "sentimental adoptions"
see Viviana Zelizer, Pricing the Priceless Child (New York: Basic
Books, 1985), 169-207; Marsh and Ronner, The Empty Cradle, 106110,
126-128.
22. The Delineator 76 (December, 1910), 515.The Delineator
71 (May, 1908), 808.
23. Anonymous, "A Plea for Adoption," Good Housekeeping Magazine
53 (July 1911), 132.
24.The Delineator 72 (August 1908), 263; The Delineator 74 (August
1909), 134.
25. For Progressive Era reformers see, Robyn Muncy, Creating a Female
Dominion in American Reform, 1890-1935 (New York: Oxford University
Press, 1991).