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Margaret Reynolds

Adoptive parent Margaret Reynolds wrote a book, The Wild Track, in which she explores her experiences of adopting a child. The writing process caused her to think about the language used in the care system, and about the children within it.

On Word of Mouth, she joins Michael Rosen to talk about that language, from the unthinking people asking about “real parents” to the clinical words used to describe children's lives.

What language should we use and why does it matter?

There is a lot of debate around what is best, from “in care” to “looked after”. In Australia, when children have the local authority as their corporate parent it is referred to as “out of home care,” which she thinks is “pretty terrible”.

It’s a problematic decision and, for Margaret, there is no clear winner. “I don’t know what I would go for as an ideal term. ‘Care experienced’ I think is the one that most people use these days and prefer, because that covers people who are still in the care of the local authority, that covers people who are adopted, it covers people who were in it and then out of it again.”

When it comes to talking about care experienced children and their families, there are a lot of common faux pas.

“I have literally had a headteacher say to me, ‘and what about her real parents?’” Margaret recounts. She was left thinking, “What am I then? A fake parent?” The phrase “natural parents” is just as bad, she says, and needs to be ditched.

“Birth family”, “birth mother” and “birth father” are much better alternatives, she suggests. Or “tummy mummy” if you’re talking about a very small child. And actually, using people’s names is better than continuing to describe them by their role or relationship.

Really, this shouldn’t be an issue, she says. “Many people live in blended families. Lots of children have step parents and birth parents and two sets of parents as a result, so there are all different kinds of parents.”

Another issue is the implication that something is or has gone “wrong”. In the playground, Margaret’s daughter Lucy was told things like “there must have been something wrong with you”, “your parents didn’t love you” or “you don’t look adopted.”

Calling out this type of language is important, says Margaret. “The headteacher I spoke about, I did take her to task,” she says. “She apologised, and I don’t think she would do it again.”

Social workers are under immense pressure, and any she has had dealings with have been “truly fantastic”, says Margaret, but there are elements of the language they use that need to change.

At the top of her list would be “a troubled child”. When The Wild Track came out a couple of reviewers referred to Lucy in this way. “She took exception to this, and quite rightly, because actually, she was rather calm and resilient and brave as a six-year-old who’d had a lot of life’s unfairnesses unfairly thrust upon her,” says Margaret. “The child may be troubled but they’re troubled because somebody has done something to trouble them.”

“The child presents with challenging behaviour” is another suboptimal phrase, says the author. Behaviour is a child’s first language so when they are acting up, and doing certain things that challenge the grown-up, what they are trying to say is “help me, I’m miserable, or angry, or hurt,” says Margaret.

She has seen reports where children have been described as “resentful”, “sullen”, “unresponsive” and “mute”. “We’re talking about children who may be severely traumatised so of course they’re not going to pour their heart out or confide in you,” says the writer. “This lack of recognition of the effects of what they have gone through I think is very problematic.”

Language matters when it is used in front of the child

Certain language can be particularly problematic when it is used around the child in question. If a child hears certain words, over and over again, it can inform their sense of self.

“Looked after children” becomes an acronym: LAC. “Not a great word really,” stresses Margaret. There’s anecdotal evidence of kids, who don’t understand, hearing their “LAC review” being discussed. “Some of these children say, what is it than I’m lacking? Or, what do I lack?”

Of course, this official terminology is for safeguarding purposes and there is a place for it. “It has to be there because all of these children need to be dealt with very professionally; there need to be clear records of the decisions that are made on their behalf,” says Margaret. “But the problem arises when you use it in front of the child, about the child, when they perhaps don’t really grasp what it is that’s going on.”

We have to remember that every single one of these children has suffered loss, grief, trauma, pain, misery, distress, she explains. “So, every moment of dealing with that child needs to remember that that is what is going on inside their brain.”

The Adolescent and Children’s Trust, TACT, recently published a document about the language of care, having asked children from many different local authorities what language they think we should use.

One finding was that “brothers” and “sisters” was infinitely better than “siblings”. “Most children hate that,” says Margaret. “When do you ever call your brothers and sisters your siblings?”

Another word they flagged was “peers”, which again isn’t a word in everyday parlance. “They just want ‘friends’,” says the author.

“It’s very much about moving them to simpler words where they are actually impacting the child.”

In this country, there are nearly 90,000 children who are looked after by the corporate parent – the local authority – and that’s not including those who have been adopted or were in the care system and have left it again.

“That’s a lot of children and these are our children,” says Margaret. “These are the children that belong to society. And we are all responsible for this. So, I think choosing your words carefully, thinking about the situation from their point of view, trying to be kind, is what this naming, this language, is about. And that’s what we should be aiming for.”