Like most
of us, I have a story to tell. My private world has become public, a
somewhat disconcerting state of affairs for someone who is, at heart, a
very private person. However, my story belongs to you, the public
because
what happened to me, is happening to many hapless parents throughout
the UK. It can happen to any of us by virtue of our very existence. By
virtue of being human.
I was privileged. Very privileged. Because I knew too much. As a family law barrister for some years now, I am experienced in the inner workings of the family court. As a barrister, my first and foremost commitment has been to my profession and the inherent duty to the court. This commitment was tested to the extreme as a result of my own personal experiences. In short, for the most spurious of reasons, documented in various sources in the media (below), 'they' (the social workers) came for me.
As I tell my story, and ponder my 'role' in the greater scheme of things in the world of 'child protection' the poignant quotation by Martin Niemoller (1892-1984) is engrained in my thoughts....
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me--and there was no one left to speak for me.
Happily, my children and I survived this nightmare. We are happily settled in Israel and I have returned to my UK practice to continue representing parents who have fallen victim to the sordid world of child protection. There are bad parents out there. This is a fact. There are children who no doubt must be removed from abusive parents / carers. This is undisputed and I actively support this. However, when families become embroiled in a flawed system of 'child protection' for spurious reasons, I will shout out. Someone is left to speak out for these families.
Sunday Telegraph Article by Christopher Booker 6.4.13
Sunday Telegraph Article by Christopher Booker 8.6.13
I was privileged. Very privileged. Because I knew too much. As a family law barrister for some years now, I am experienced in the inner workings of the family court. As a barrister, my first and foremost commitment has been to my profession and the inherent duty to the court. This commitment was tested to the extreme as a result of my own personal experiences. In short, for the most spurious of reasons, documented in various sources in the media (below), 'they' (the social workers) came for me.
As I tell my story, and ponder my 'role' in the greater scheme of things in the world of 'child protection' the poignant quotation by Martin Niemoller (1892-1984) is engrained in my thoughts....
First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me--and there was no one left to speak for me.
Happily, my children and I survived this nightmare. We are happily settled in Israel and I have returned to my UK practice to continue representing parents who have fallen victim to the sordid world of child protection. There are bad parents out there. This is a fact. There are children who no doubt must be removed from abusive parents / carers. This is undisputed and I actively support this. However, when families become embroiled in a flawed system of 'child protection' for spurious reasons, I will shout out. Someone is left to speak out for these families.
Sunday Telegraph Article by Christopher Booker 6.4.13
Sunday Telegraph Article by Christopher Booker 8.6.13
I wrote the following piece whilst sitting alone in a coffee shop, scared, disorientated and still in shock.
Walking
along the street in a sunny suburb of Tel Aviv, I hold my five year old
daughter’s hand. As we approach an uncovered manhole, I tell Talya to
be careful and watch
where she is going. Talya pauses, and looks up at me with her huge eyes
and asks, “Why mummy, is that because if children fall down there they
will never see their mummy again?”. I look at this sweet wonderful
child, pause for a moment, and reply
“no my darling, I don’t want you falling in and getting hurt”. Talya
grips my hand slighter tighter, and skips by my side as we continue.
I do not go on to explain to Talya that the dark hole is not the hole in the street. The dark hole was a most terrifying journey that we were swept up into in the UK. An abysmal Kafkesque nightmare where the state has the power to inflict a sentence worse than capital punishment. The removal of a child from the parent. I do not go on to explain to Talya that we had become caught up in the oppressive and powerful world of child protection perpetuated by a system that seeks to ‘perfect’ this legislative machinery.
I do not explain to Talya that the report I made to the police about some rather concerning allegations made by her sister against her father would result in us fleeing the country. I do not explain that Barnet social services initially shared my concerns and requested that I enter into a written agreement to allow my older daughter to have supervised contact only with her father.
Following this agreement and many months later the same local authority actively supported my older daughter living with her father.
I do not tell Talya that I have spent the previous two years trying to persuade social services that my daughter was at risk in her father’s care and had become locked in a cycle of self-harm and depression. Each time I was accused of being ‘obstructive’ and undermining the work of the local authority. I was told that my ex-husband was a ‘work in progress’ and that ‘changes were being implemented’.
I do not tell Talya that when her sister could no longer tolerate the position at her father’s house (despite social services insisting that she remain there), she returned to my care.
I did not explain that on 3rd December 2012 I was called to a meeting with Shankha Iqbal, the social worker and her manager. I was told during that meeting that there ‘are serious concerns about my parenting’. I pressed for an explanation as to what these concerns were. I was told that despite being aware of the risks posed by my ex-husband , I allowed my older daughter to remain in his care.
One day I will tell Talya that things often do not make sense. I will one day explain to her that ‘The Trial’ in Alice in Wonderland was not purely a work of fiction.
I do not tell Talya that the trip to Israel was in fact not a ‘surprise holiday’ but an escape from a court process whereby she and her sister could have been permanently removed from my care. I do not explain that the game we played on our journey from Luton to Budapest to Warsaw to Israel was not really a game but that we were ‘hiding’ from port officials as the ports may have been alerted.
I will tell Talya one day that Sophocles was correct; the law of the state can be morally incorrect. There is an Antigone in each of us.
I will tell Talya that the laws, or arguably the interpretation of the laws, can be fundamentally flawed leading to tragic moral repercussions. She will understand that as a mother and as a family law barrister, I have an interest in each hemisphere and was torn between morality and the legal system. One day my daughters will understand that I will continuously support reform in this inept area of law so that parents in the future will not be faced with a similarly excruciating situation ever again.
Talya continues to skip along by my side and we buy ice-cream.
I do not go on to explain to Talya that the dark hole is not the hole in the street. The dark hole was a most terrifying journey that we were swept up into in the UK. An abysmal Kafkesque nightmare where the state has the power to inflict a sentence worse than capital punishment. The removal of a child from the parent. I do not go on to explain to Talya that we had become caught up in the oppressive and powerful world of child protection perpetuated by a system that seeks to ‘perfect’ this legislative machinery.
I do not explain to Talya that the report I made to the police about some rather concerning allegations made by her sister against her father would result in us fleeing the country. I do not explain that Barnet social services initially shared my concerns and requested that I enter into a written agreement to allow my older daughter to have supervised contact only with her father.
Following this agreement and many months later the same local authority actively supported my older daughter living with her father.
I do not tell Talya that I have spent the previous two years trying to persuade social services that my daughter was at risk in her father’s care and had become locked in a cycle of self-harm and depression. Each time I was accused of being ‘obstructive’ and undermining the work of the local authority. I was told that my ex-husband was a ‘work in progress’ and that ‘changes were being implemented’.
I do not tell Talya that when her sister could no longer tolerate the position at her father’s house (despite social services insisting that she remain there), she returned to my care.
I did not explain that on 3rd December 2012 I was called to a meeting with Shankha Iqbal, the social worker and her manager. I was told during that meeting that there ‘are serious concerns about my parenting’. I pressed for an explanation as to what these concerns were. I was told that despite being aware of the risks posed by my ex-husband , I allowed my older daughter to remain in his care.
One day I will tell Talya that things often do not make sense. I will one day explain to her that ‘The Trial’ in Alice in Wonderland was not purely a work of fiction.
I do not tell Talya that the trip to Israel was in fact not a ‘surprise holiday’ but an escape from a court process whereby she and her sister could have been permanently removed from my care. I do not explain that the game we played on our journey from Luton to Budapest to Warsaw to Israel was not really a game but that we were ‘hiding’ from port officials as the ports may have been alerted.
I will tell Talya one day that Sophocles was correct; the law of the state can be morally incorrect. There is an Antigone in each of us.
I will tell Talya that the laws, or arguably the interpretation of the laws, can be fundamentally flawed leading to tragic moral repercussions. She will understand that as a mother and as a family law barrister, I have an interest in each hemisphere and was torn between morality and the legal system. One day my daughters will understand that I will continuously support reform in this inept area of law so that parents in the future will not be faced with a similarly excruciating situation ever again.
Talya continues to skip along by my side and we buy ice-cream.
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