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    A powerful film examines the scandal of abandoned British children

    An abusive British imperial trade, exporting unwanted children to Australia and Canada, is movingly revealed in "Oranges and Sunshine." The author had a first-hand encounter with the issue.

    Emily Watson stars as Margaret Humphries.

    Emily Watson stars as Margaret Humphries.

    It is well known that in its imperial days Britain had a system of “imperial preference” for tariff-free trade with its colonies and dominions giving its exports in those areas an edge over other countries’. Much less well known is the sorry fact that its exports included children. I do not mean children emigrating legitimately with their families. But children from orphanages and other juvenile institutions who, sometimes unknown to their families and without valid consent on their own part, were shipped off in large batches to Canada and Australia, New Zealand, and central Africa.

    The Australian dimension of this sorry business is the focus of “Oranges and Sunshine,” an Anglo-Australian film directed by Jim Loach and now playing at Seattle Metro (closing tonight, Nov 10). It is a powerful piece of work, the more moving and effective for its avoidance of rhetoric, grandstanding, and exaggeration; and for its sensitive, respectful, treatment of the child victims in their adulthood and of other participants.

    The lead role, taken with wonderful skill and insight by Emily Watson, is Margaret Humphreys, a British social worker who by accident stumbles on the child export history and then devotes the rest of her career to helping its Australian victims find their British roots and bringing the institutions responsible for their mistreatment to account. She becomes a sort of Erin Brockovich for the emigrated children. Margaret Humphreys may be the first member of the much-maligned social work profession to feature as the heroine of a major international film.

    The institutions she takes on are the British and Australian governments and the organizations, mainly religious charities, which actually exported the children. In the late 1990s, mainly at Humphreys’ instigation, the British Parliament undertook a major public examination of the child emigration scheme. I was then a senior official of the Department of Health in London and found myself the British Government’s main witness to the inquiry. I had no personal involvement in the emigration scheme, which had come to an end in the late 1960s, but spent a long time researching its history and then several uncomfortable hours trying to explain to legislators how such things could have happened and been allowed to happen.

    The emigration schemes started in the 19th century from a mixture of philanthropic, economic, colonial, and racial motives. They set out to offer children abandoned in institutions better chances than the dismal lives and opportunities that Britain in those days offered its many poor and abandoned children — witness Charles Dickens. The children were, especially in Canada, treated as cheap child labor, the boys on farms and the girls in domestic service. They provided the settler populations with a further infusion of white breeding stock. The religious charities provided enforced recruits to their faiths in the receiving countries and gained some income because the schemes had public subsidy.

    “Oranges and Sunshine” was the phrase used to cajole children into leaving their dark, cold, and undernourished lives in post-war Britain for a supposedly brighter sweeter future in Australia. The film shows that in many cases their fate on arrival was a poor one. Deprived of their birth identities, family links, and original nationality, most children were placed in institutions where many experienced harsh and abusive treatment and some were victims of sexual abuse.

    The worst experience seems to have been at a large institution in Bindoon, remotely situated in Western Australia and run by the Catholic Christian Brothers order. One of the most dramatic scenes in the film shows a visit by Margaret Humphreys to this institution. It is characteristic of the director’s subtlety and balance that one sees the people there not just as perpetrators of an abusive regime but themselves as isolated, emotionally stunted misfits, permanently trapped in the cold institutional formality from which their child victims can at least eventually escape into real lives. One feels for them both hostility and a kind of pity.

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    Posted Thu, Nov 10, 10:49 a.m. Inappropriate

    Tom's excellent review is in error about it ending tonight. It continues at the Metro Cinemas at least through November 17. Support thoughtful film making.


    Posted Fri, Nov 11, 9:50 a.m. Inappropriate

    Just reading this piece made me tear up. I saw this film last spring in London. Such a sad story. It is a reminder that government and self-righteous people can cause such damage to so many lives. It was a 'got a problem, got a solution' policy with no follow-up on the welfare of these children. Perhaps it's a spoiler to say that not all children were orphans, and that illegitimacy was also a reason to send children away.

    I'm glad to see from NickBob that the film is still in town. I urge everyone to go see it. Its message for me is 'respect others rights and values.'


    Posted Fri, Nov 11, 10:32 a.m. Inappropriate

    The Australian Maritim Museum in Sydney mounted a poignant exhibit focused on this historic migration in January 2011. I had the great good fortune to see it. Thees immigrant children's stories were presented via photographs and text. Most moving were the recordings of interviews with them made in preparation for the exhibit. It was fascinating to hear their assessment of their fate after the passage of decades. Some few fell into warm, loving families. But most of the reflections were heart-breaking: tales of soul-crushing loneliness, physical and mental abuse, and exploitation of their young bodies for labor. Still, their voices today seemed strong to my ear, resilient, largely forgiving. They reported many wonderful successes--starting loving families of their own, becoming solid members of their adopted communities, full of hope for their own children.
    It brought to mind Shakespeare's words from "All's Well that Ends Well": “The web of our life is of mingled yarn, good and ill together.”
    I'm so happy to see that the film remains in Seattle until Nov. 17. I look forward to seeing it.


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