MISSOURI: MO Legislature takes on Voter IS & Immigration, May 15, 2008

KTVI-TV, ST. LOUIS
May 15, 2008

MO Legislature Takes On Voter ID & Immigration

Charles Jaco reports:

A lot of states are passing laws on illegal immigration. And a lot are considering voter ID laws.

But Missouri is the first state to combine the two issues.

This raises questions on everything from constitutional voting rights to political opportunism. The bill's supporters say it'll prevent vote fraud and keep illegals from voting.

Critics say there has never been a case of anyone trying to vote with a phony ID in Missouri.

Since 1875, the Missouri constitution has contained the following clause:

All elections shall be free and open. And no power, civil or military, shall at any time interfere to prevent the free exercise of the right of suffrage.

By Friday night Missouri lawmakers could draft a proposal asking voters to change that one simple sentence. It would not only require you to show a photo ID when voting. It would require you show proof of U.S. citizenship with a passport or birth certificate, before you could even register to vote:

The Missouri Secretary of State's Office guesstimates that there are 240 thousand Missourians who could lose the right to vote because of a lack of photo ID thousands more might never be able to register to vote because they don't have birth certificates or passports.

And the whole idea of proving citizenship rolls the debate over illegal immigration in Missouri into the debate over voting.

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MISSOURI: Missouri's Proposed Voting Reauirment Could Disenfranchise More Than 200,000 US Citizens, May 15, 2008

BILOXI (MS) SUN-HERALD
May 15, 2008

Adoption Related!

Missouri's Proposed Voting Requirement Could Disenfranchise More Than 200,000 U.S. Citizens


WASHINGTON, May 15 -- Missouri's legislature is considering a constitutional amendment permitting the state to require residents to provide documentary proof of their U.S. citizenship in order to vote. If implemented, it risks disenfranchising large numbers of Missouri residents who are U.S. citizens, according to a new report from the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities.

The amendment does not specify the forms of documentation the state would accept as proof of citizenship, but it appears likely that residents would have to produce a certified birth certificate or passport. Proof of citizenship is generally established in one of two ways, either through production of a birth certificate or passport or through production of certain forms of government-issued photo ID, but these IDs themselves generally cannot be obtained without a birth certificate or passport.

Results from two national surveys show that a large number of citizens lack birth certificates or passports including disproportionately large numbers of people in potentially vulnerable groups such as low-income, African American, and elderly residents. In addition, a similar requirement recently imposed in Medicaid effectively pushed tens of thousands of eligible people off the program and demonstrated that obtaining the documents can prove difficult, time-consuming, and, in some cases, essentially impossible.

Large Numbers of Missourians Lack the Required Documents

A January 2006 survey that Opinion Research Corporation conducted for the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities found that nearly 11 million native-born American adults, or 5.7 percent of the native-born adult population, lack the documents the Missouri proposal would require. A survey the same firm conducted for the Brennan Center for Justice found similar results.

Assuming that this 5.7 percent share is the same in Missouri as in the nation as a whole, we estimate that 238,000 Missourians lack these documents. Many would likely be unable to obtain them on a timely basis and thus would effectively be disenfranchised.

The survey also found that certain demographic groups are much less likely than others to have the required documents and thus would suffer disproportionate harm under the Missouri requirement. These groups include people without a high school diploma (9.2 percent of whom lack the documents), rural residents (9.1 percent of whom lack them), African Americans (8.9 percent of whom lack them), households with incomes below $25,000 (8.1 percent of whom lack them), and the elderly (7.4 percent of whom lack them).

One reason many African Americans lack the documents is that a substantial number of African Americans born in the South before World War II were born at home and thus never received birth certificates, largely because of racial discrimination or poverty that kept their mothers from delivering in hospitals. One study estimated that a fifth of African-Americans born in 1939-40 lacked a birth certificate.

Assuming that the above percentages are the same for Missouri as for the nation as a whole, the estimated 238,000 Missourians who lack these documents would include:

-- more than 90,000 rural residents;
-- 70,000 low-income residents;
-- 50,000 residents without a high school diploma;
-- 50,000 elderly residents; and
-- 40,000 African Americans.

Similar Requirement in Medicaid Has Harmed Tens of Thousands of U.S. Citizens

Obtaining a birth certificate or passport can take weeks or months and involve costs that can be difficult for some low-income families to absorb: it can cost $5 to $23 to get a birth certificate, depending on the state, while a passport costs $87 to $97 and now entails extended waits. Obtaining a birth certificate can be especially time consuming for people not living in the state of their birth. This is a significant problem for Missouri, since more than one-third (36 percent) of its adult residents were born in another state.

Evidence that the difficulty of obtaining these documents can cause otherwise-eligible people to lose valuable benefits comes from Medicaid, which in 2006 began requiring most U.S. citizen applicants and recipients to document their citizenship by providing an original birth certificate, passport, or similar document. This is what has happened:

-- Tens of thousands of eligible citizen children have been denied
coverage. In numerous states, thousands have been removed from, or
denied entry into, Medicaid; many apparently became (or remained)
uninsured.

-- Virtually no cases of fraud have been found. The six states that have
examined this issue in greatest detail found that the new requirement,
which had delayed or denied Medicaid coverage for tens of thousands of
people and had cost states $17 million to administer as of July 2007,
had identified a total of eight undocumented individuals seeking to
obtain Medicaid illegally. It is worth noting that some or all of these
eight people might have been caught under the previous procedures.) In
addition, in Oklahoma -- which has yet to identify a single undocumented
immigrant on its Medicaid caseload -- 13 percent of the 20,000 people
who had been dropped from Medicaid as of January 2008 under the new rule
are Native Americans (and thus are clearly not immigrants).

-- Whites and African Americans have been hit the hardest. The Medicaid
requirement was ostensibly aimed at undocumented immigrants, most of
whom are Hispanic. Yet the children who have lost coverage due to the
requirement are disproportionately non-Hispanic, according to the three
states that have reported these data. This fact demonstrates that the
requirement's main impact has been on U.S. citizens. (Hispanic
citizens might be less affected than white or African American citizens
because they are often concerned that their citizenship status may be
questioned and thus are likely to make sure that they have readily
available vital documents to prove it.)

-- Medicaid enrollment has dropped, while administrative costs have risen.
Thirty-seven states say the new requirement has caused eligible citizen
children to lose Medicaid coverage, while 45 states say it has increased
administrative costs, according to the Kaiser Commission on Medicaid and
the Uninsured.

The fact that tens of thousands of American families were unable to meet this documentation requirement, even on such a high-stakes matter as obtaining health coverage for their children, speaks volumes about the likely impact on Missouri if it were to adopt a similar rule for prospective voters. Missouri's proposed voting requirement would undermine the legitimacy of elections in the state by making it difficult or impossible for many of the state's citizen residents to exercise their right to vote.

This analysis can be found at: http://www.cbpp.org/5-15-08citdoc.htm.

The Center on Budget and Policy Priorities is a nonprofit, nonpartisan research organization and policy institute that conducts research and analysis on a range of government policies and programs.

SOURCE Center on Budget and Policy Priorities
Shannon Spillane of Center on Budget and Policy Priorities, +1-202-408-1080, spillane@cbpp.org

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MISSOURI: Fighting an Uphill Battle for Adoptee Rights

BLUE SPRINGS EXAMINER,
January 5, 2008

Fighting an Uphill Battle for Adoptee Rights

By Hugh S. Welsh | Hugh.welsh@examiner.net

If you're an adoptee living in Missouri, four words teeter on the tip of your tongue:

"House Bill No. 509," said Jeff Quibell, a Blue Springs City Councilman and adoptee.

Five years ago, Quibell was reunited with his birth parents.

Fortunately, he was able to locate them quickly through the use of a searcher provided by the court.

The searcher met with each of his birth parents, both of whom agreed to release all identifying information (name, date of birth, place of birth and last known address).

Before Quibell knew it, his arms were curled around his birth mother, and his hand was enclasped within the hand of his birth father.

His journey was unusually easy in a state where original birth certificates and adoption records are off-limits for adoptees.

Most aren't so lucky.

According to Quibell, mutual consent between adoptee and birth parent is a sensible request, but what about adoptees born before birth parents had an opportunity to say "yes" or "no" to future contact in the form of an affidavit at the time of the adoption?

According to the Missouri statute under Adoption and Foster Care, Section 453.121, in order for identifying information to be released to an adoptee either born or adopted in Missouri, the biological parent must submit an affidavit.

If an affidavit is not on file, one is delivered to the parent via a court-driven agency that charges the adoptee a fee (usually $250) for the service.

The statute was revised on Aug. 13, 1986.

Today, birth parents who offer their child up for adoption are asked whether they would like to allow their adopted child access to their identifying information upon reaching 18 years of age.

Prior to that, parents did not have such an opportunity at the time of the adoption.

Of course, parents who have children they've given to adoption can submit an affidavit releasing such information at anytime.

But how many are familiar with this option?

How many really want to remember?

Quibell said for many birth parents - particularly those who had pre-marital children prior to 1973, the year of the landmark Supreme Court abortion case Roe v. Wade - their adopted children are a taboo subject, rarely mentioned but always pondered.

Take Quibell's birth mother, Louise Ann Padmos, for example. In the back of her mind she wondered for years about whatever came of her baby boy. Although Padmos' lips were sealed tighter than a vice, she remembered her adopted son with a new ornament she affixed to the family Christmas tree every year. To her family, it was merely a hobby. To her, it was everything. Now reunited with her adopted son, Padmos gives Quibell a new ornament every year to hang on his own family Christmas tree.

"She never forgot me," Quibell said.

When Padmos was contacted by a searcher wanting to know whether she would fill out the affidavit releasing identifying information to her adopted son, she answered yes to everything that very evening.

Quibell's birth father took the entire summer to make up his mind, then he, too, submitted the affidavit.

But what if the searcher is unable to locate the birth parents? What if the birth parents are deceased and, therefore, unable to submit an affidavit?

"As the statute is written and interpreted right now, there must be an affidavit on file for the identifying information to be released," said state Rep. Connie LaJoyce Johnson, D-St. Louis. "If there isn't one or if it was misplaced for whatever reason, the court will deny the release of the information to the adoptee."

For adoptees in such a situation, the only other possibility of unlocking adoption records and original birth certificates is medical need.

"Supposedly, medical need has to be acknowledged by the court system as a reason to release records to adoptees," Johnson said. "This simply is not true."

The case that drew Johnson into the debate involved an adoptee who was in need of a bone marrow transplant and seeking a possible match within her biological family tree.

A searcher with the court located a few members of the adoptees' birth family and found unfavorable results.

No match.

"The adoptee was simply told 'no match' and denied any identifying information," Johnson said. "I thought that was cold."

Johnson sponsored House Bill No. 509, which, at the moment, sits dormant. The bill would modify sections 193.125 and 193.255 of Missouri's adoption record policy, affording adoptees 18-and-older the right to obtain a certified copy of their original birth certificate, which, of course, would contain some identifying information of the birth parents including their names and birthplaces.

What stands in Johnson's way?

"Catholic charities and evangelists are a well-oiled machine that pulverized this bill the last time it was brought up," Johnson said.

Johnson said Catholic charities and evangelists argue that an open records policy in Missouri would encourage more abortions.

The results of a recent report by the Evan B. Donaldson Institute show a different picture: One of such states as Kansas, which has an open-record policy for adoptees, having lower abortion rates than states with closed records.

But Johnson doesn't care about the findings. She needs testimony. Human voices that can convince the House that the policy isn't constitutional.

"As someone who grew up Catholic, I know where these lobbyists are coming from, and I don't necessarily disagree with them," Johnson said. "Mutual consent and the respect of the birth parents' privacy are dear to my heart, but those adoptees whose birth parents do not have an affidavit on file and are deceased or cannot be located are being unfairly treated; the situation must be rectified, and in order for that to happen we must make this a legal matter, not an emotional one."

One of the voices to give testimony will be Padmos, who plans to visit Jefferson City in the near future.

She will be only one of many birth mothers and adoptees to make the trip as part of an army organized by Blue Springs resident Ina Lewis, an adoptee who has devoted every waking moment to this cause.

Johnson will need them. All of them.

"I won't go before the General Assembly again unless I have guns with real ammunition, ones with stuff that can hit them right upside the head," Johnson said.

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KANSAS/MISSOURI: A Heartfelt Reunion: Open Records Help Woman Find Biological Mother, January 3, 2008

BLUE SPRINGS EXAMINER.
January 3, 2008

A Heartfelt Reunion: Open Records Help Woman Find Biological Mother

By Hugh S. Welsh | Hugh.welsh@examiner.net

The year was 1969, but Sharon Cummins' family didn't embrace the flower child mentality blossoming across the country.

"My family was pretty conservative," said Cummins, a middle child in a family of 11 living in Kansas City.

Not long before, she had discovered what the change was that had overcome her.

The morning sickness, the cravings and the general need to use the bathroom more often now made perfect sense.

"I was pregnant," Cummins said. "No doubt about it."

She had broken the news to the father; it was the last time she would see him.

As the baby girl grew inside her, Cummins had a decision to make.

Was she prepared to scratch everything for motherhood at 21?

Did she meet the qualifications of motherhood?

Finally, Cummins made a decision. She opted to hand her child over to adoption.

"I thought it would be selfish of me to keep and care for the baby myself," Cummins said. "I wanted it to have a better life."

- - -

The birth was anything but routine.

When Cummins went into labor, complications arose and a Caesarian section was necessary.

She spent six days in the hospital recovering.

In those days, mothers giving up their children to adoption were prohibited from so much as cradling them.

Nine months of sacrifice, and she couldn't even kiss her baby's forehead.

"It was heartbreaking," Cummins said. "Absolutely heartbreaking."

But Cummins had unknowingly laid the path her daughter would follow to find her 25 years later.

She gave birth to her daughter in a Kansas City hospital on the Kansas side of the state line, where original birth certificates and adoption records are readily available to adoptees.

- - -

Blue Springs resident Lori Smith doesn't recall the name of the movie or what channel it was on.

"I think it was a 'Hallmark Hall of Fame' presentation, but I can't quite remember," Smith said.

Smith was home briefly, visiting her mother in Raytown, when the movie aired.

It dealt with the reunification of a birth mother and her adopted child.

Smith had always known she was adopted.

When the movie was over, after swiping tears from her eyes, Smith asked her mother a question:

"Is there anything you haven't shared with me about my birth parents?" Smith asked.

The answer: a resounding yes.

She pulled from the closet a shoebox containing some very basic information. Her biological parents' names, occupations, physical features, education, etc.

It did not, however, tell her their whereabouts.

Smith looked the information over and silently returned it to its proper place.

She wasn't ready. Not yet.

- - -

A couple months would pass before Smith requested her adoption record.

Once she obtained it, she tried to ignore it. But it lingered. Finally, she did something about it.

The document said her birth mother lived in Springfield, Mo.

It so happened she had a friend living there.

So Smith picked up the phone, made a call and had her friend peruse the white pages.

The name was there: Sharon Fieker (Cummins' maiden name).

Weeks later, Smith visited her friend in Springfield. While there, she drove by her birth mother's home and parked the car. It was a friendly little home with a friendly walkway leading to the front door.

Smith didn't get out, though.

"I wanted to respect her privacy," Smith said. "I thought it would be selfish of me to invade her home."

Smith drove on, but she never forgot.

- - -

Months later, Smith accepted a position at the Kansas State School for the Blind.

At one of her first days on the job, her secret slipped in front of her supervisor.

Her supervisor asked her about it, encouraging her to attempt contact by way of telephone.

Smith consented.

Only she would not do it herself.

"I asked if she would call her on my behalf," Smith said. "I thought that would be for the best."

The supervisor placed the call and was laughing then crying then laughing.

"It was a see-saw of laughter and tears," Smith said.

Then the phone call was over.

"She told me Sharon would love to talk to me," Smith said.

Later that evening, Smith dialed her birth mother's phone number.

It rang. And rang. And rang.

Then a click and a voice.

"Hello?" the voice said as sweetly as a rose in bloom.

- - -

That night, Cummins provided Smith will all of her medical background and answered all the questions that had been fermenting in the back of Smith's mind since she could remember.

The call endured well into the night. When they said their farewells, Cummins figured it would be the last.

"I thought it would be our only communication," Cummins said.

Several days later, Cummins received another call from Smith, this time to arrange a get-together.

She obliged.

Two weeks later, they were officially reunited.

That was 15 years ago.

Today, Cummins and Smith share a unique friendship, one that has been chronicled in a book titled "I Choose This Day - Mournings and Miracles of Adoption.

Every six to eight weeks, Cummins and her husband visit Smith at her home in Blue Springs.

When they're together, Cummins is not introduced to Smith's peers as "mom" but "birth mom."

To her children, Smith's adoptive mother is "Grandma," Cummins is "Grandma Sharon" and her mother-in-law is "Me-ma."

"I've never had any intention of replacing Lori's adoptive mom," Cummins said. "She is her mom and a really wonderful mom at that."

---

| VIEWPOINT |

Smith and Cummins share their feelings on an open-records policy for adoptees in Missouri

Smith:

It was an open-records policy that allowed Smith to locate her birth mother swiftly and assuredly.

Yet Smith is not sure whether such a policy ought to be implemented in Missouri.

"For me, mutual consent is key," Smith said. "If Sharon didn't want to talk or meet with me, I believe that's her choice.

Smith's birth father has declined contact, which she acknowledges.

She said the policy currently established in Missouri should, if nothing else, provide adoptees access to their birth parents medical history.

"In today's world, medical science allows for many preventive measures against predisposed conditions," Smith said. "If the birth parents wish for identifying information (name, date of birth, place of birth and last known address) to be removed, I believe that's their choice, but they shouldn't be able to deny their adopted children their medical background."

Cummins:

For Cummins, one of the greatest moments in her life was when she accepted a call from a 913 area code.

"I never got calls from Kansas," Cummins said. "I figured it was either a telemarketer or someone special who I hadn't spoken with in a long time."

The person was calling for Cummins' adopted daughter.

"I am in favor of open records for adoptees in Missouri and every state," Cummins said. "The most wonderful chapter in my life would not have been possible without it."

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MISSOURI: Foster Mom Creates a Permanent Home for Siblings, January 2, 2008

CORRECTED VERSION (see comments)

HAYES DAILY EXAMINER/
AP MISSOURI PANORAMA
January 2, 2008

Foster mom creates a permanent home for siblings

By HUGH S. WELSH

INDEPENDENCE, Mo. (AP) -- For resident Helen Martin, the last six years have been enlightening, emboldening, disheartening and, finally, celebratory.

She has seen her kids flung from squalor to luxury and back to squalor again.

And then she saw her kids find permanent luxury -- a luxury that includes their own beds, rooms, PlayStations and, most importantly, their own identity.

"I love my babies," Martin said. "They're my family, and we're good."

Several months ago, Martin was granted a verdict that terminated the parental rights of the birth mother of her three foster children, granting Martin permission to formally adopt them.

In late September, Martin held a party to commemorate the occasion. In attendance were 75 people, including family members, teachers and the attorneys and judge who followed their case from Day One.

"It was the most wonderful party I've ever been a part of," Martin said.

The children she once fostered now carry her last name and all have new Social Security numbers.

"I'd like to think they've been reborn," Martin said.

Psychologically, Martin is battered and bruised -- but upright.

And the same could be said for her newfound kids who have, since birth, suffered an untold number of hardships both physical and psychological.

Two of her children may always have learning disabilities.

But at least they're clean, attending school and making friends.

The story of the making of a family began with the arrival of a caseworker's car holding three children of different ages.

"I'd always wanted to be a foster mom," Martin said. "Now, here was my chance."

In the back seat of the car was Ann, a 2-year-old girl in a diaper and incapable of speaking.

Next to her was Michael, a 7-year-old boy with a junkyard dog temperament and four-letter vocabulary.

And in the front seat was Sara, an 11-year-old girl with hardly a kindergarten education.

All wearing clothing dirtied and ragged. All victims of abuse, molestation and neglect.

For two years, Martin gave them a home -- a home they could call their own.

That is until the death of their father, who was the parent found to be at fault for their despair by the courts.

With his passing, the birth mother's custody was restored and the kids were returned to their origins.

It would not last.

She loves running her fingers through Sara's flowing brunette hair.

"I remember how heartbreaking it was to see it chopped off," Martin said.

Four months passed before Martin saw the children after returning them to the birth mother.

Again, they arrived in tatters in a caseworker's automobile.

This time, however, two of their heads were bare, shaven to combat a bout with head lice.

Sara's face was pockmarked with acne.

The court had spoken -- and so had Martin.

"These children needed a proper home; they deserved it," Martin said. "I vowed then and there to become their adoptive mother."

The normal process to terminate parental rights takes two years.

This was not true in the instance of Martin and her foster children.

Martin's quest would force her to slog through a four-year quagmire of court dates, counseling sessions and a court requirement that her foster children see their biological mother every week; the visits would typically be canceled by the birth mother at the last minute.

"It was like the mother saw her own kids as a court-borne burden or something," Martin said.

While the process dragged, Sara began to fear about her adoption eligibility.

"She was 16 and scared she might be reaching the end of the rope," Martin said. "She was scared she might have to make it on her own."

Contrary to popular belief, there is no age limitation on adoption eligibility, according to the North American Council on Adoptable Children.

Not that it mattered.

"If she was handed back over to her mother, she told me she would rather live on her own," Martin said.

Four months ago, the decision was made.

And it was a favorable one for Martin and family.

Martin was made the legal adoptive mother of her three foster children.

Now -- and forever more -- they're well-fed, well-treated and well-educated.

Pictures abound on the walls of Martin's home, including a recent family portrait that discernibly showcases a now 13-year-old boy who is soft-spoken and mindful to use "ma'am" and "sir" when spoken to.

"At this point, I might as well have given birth to them," Martin said. "I love them so much."

Although Helen Martin feels her children have every right to seek out their biological family when they turn 18 years of age, she is opposed to an open records policy for adoptees in Missouri.

"I just don't feel it's necessary," Martin said.

Her opinion is not as mindful of the privacy of the birth mother as it is the identity of the child.

According to Martin, bestowing upon the adoptee the original birth certificate and adoption record poses a crisis of identity.

"When a child is adopted they become a part of the adoptive family," Martin said. "In other words, that's who they are."

Martin said her eldest adopted daughter resembles her birth mother in every sense, yet, to her daughter, she is not her mom.

"She's just the person who brought her into this world, not the one who intends to love and care for her for the rest of her life," Martin said.

It's the adoptive parent who can take that credit.

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MISSOURI--Missouri Adoptees Hope for Better Records Law; families hope to gain more rights, December 13, 2007

BLUE SPRINGS EXAMINER,
December 13, 2007
Missouri adoptees hope for better records laws: families hope to gain more rights
By Hugh S. Welsh/hugh.welsh@examiner.net


For adoptees born in Missouri, getting a passport can be stroke-inducing - literally.

"I've heard horror stories about people dropping dead after getting turned down for passports, because their amended birth certificate says their adoptive father gave birth to them," said Marilyn Waugh, who works in Kansas' adoption records department and is the director of the Adoption Concerns Triangle in Kansas, "or, if the adoptees' adoptive mother is significantly younger than the adoptive father, then the adoptee's mother could appear to be 8, 10 or 12 years old when she gave birth; this reads like a false form of identification."

In Missouri, adoptees cannot obtain a copy of their original birth certificate or adoption record.

For some people, this represents an infringement of constitutional rights. For others, the inability to identify birth parents is a detriment to their health.

Such was the concern of Waugh's birth daughter, whom Waugh gave up to adoption in Kansas when she was young.

As it turned out, a genetic disease existed in Waugh's family tree, Ehlers-Danlos Type 4.

Waugh's niece had been diagnosed with the disease, which is caused by a defect in collagen synthesis and is treatable. In the case of Waugh's niece, the severity of the disease ultimately claimed her life.

Waugh had already been sought out by her birth daughter and the two had been in regular contact. So, when Waugh learned the news, all she had to do was pick up the phone.

"I can only imagine what it would be like for birth mothers who cannot get a hold of their adopted child when it really matters," Waugh said.

After undergoing extensive testing at the KU Medical Center, Waugh and her birth daughter came back negative for the disease.

Waugh has been working diligently over the past decade to see that Missouri implement an open-record policy for adoptees as Kansas did in the 1950s.

Kansas allows adoptees to obtain adoption records and original birth certificates when they reach the age of 18. Kansas is one of just eight states with such a policy.

Missouri is among a handful of states - including Minnesota, Oklahoma and Colorado - considering similar legislation. Beginning in 2009, Maine will become the ninth state to have open records for adoptees.

In Kansas, all an adoptee has to do to obtain a certified copy of their original birth certificate is write his or her name at birth and check yes on two boxes: one asking if he or she has been adopted, the other asking if he or she is requesting the birth record before adoption.

The request for an adoption record is every bit as easy, requiring completion of a one-sided sheet of paper asking for basic personal information and a dated signature.

According to Waugh, the state gets more than 500 requests for adoption records every year.

She said Kansas does not allow birth parents to decline contact with their adopted children, which is one of the most pressing issues facing open records for adoptees.

At present, Oregon is the only state where a birth parent can opt to check a box refusing future contact with his or her child.

Opponents to open records argue that abortions would skyrocket if such a policy was established in Missouri.

Thomas Atwood, president of the National Council for Adoption, recently said the following on National Public Radio's "Talk of the Nation":

"What I would say, for some women, is that they won't choose adoption unless they can choose it confidentially. What is that number? I don't know. But it clearly has a micro or personal effect."

Waugh, a reunited birth mother herself, has a different opinion.

"I believe every state would benefit from an open-record policy toward adoptees," Waugh said. "There's nothing shameful about giving your child to someone better equipped to love and care for that child; virtually all adoptees I've ever met are thankful for the decision made by their birth parents."


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