Why Nativity Rocks is Not For Care-Experienced Children

This afternoon, we went along to the cinema with some friends of ours to watch what we thought would be a family-friendly film: Nativity Rocks. We’ve all seen the other films in the Nativity franchise which are funny, silly and worth a watch and just assumed this would be the same. However, I felt I had to write this post afterwards, to warn other families like ours that it might not be wise to take your children along after all.

The problems begin early on when Mr Poppy’s long-lost brother turns up trying to find him. The brother, who is a grown man, talks about not having a family and soon mentions that his mother “didn’t want him” and “put him in a children’s home”, before he ended up homeless and unloved and she died. There is so much to unpick in that sentence alone.

I sort of see where the writers were trying to go with this – I guess they were trying to acknowledge that some children who go into Care feel a sense of abandonment and as though it was their fault, somehow having driven their parents to ‘give them up.’ As we know, children are rarely ‘given up’ these days but aside from that, the narrative was such that Mr Poppy’s brother’s opinion wasn’t really corrected. Because the words about being put into Care come from a grown-up’s mouth, it makes the viewer feel as though they are true: that children really do go into Care because of something they have done. Were it a child saying it, perhaps I could forgive the film as trying to represent how looked-after children really feel, but it didn’t come across that way. For a young person viewing it, I think there would be a very real risk that they begin to question whether going into Care could have been their fault.

Not only this, but for non-care experienced children watching the film, the questions they are likely to carry away with them are, “When I meet an adopted or fostered child, I wonder what they have done wrong to have been taken away from their parents?”

Later on, the brother makes a throw-away comment about having been bullied and his Mum thinking he’d stolen something he hadn’t, leading to him, in his mind, going to the children’s home. Again this isn’t corrected and further perpetuates the myth that children go into Care through some fault of their own. The idea of being unloved and rejected continues throughout and is unfortunately portrayed as synonymous with being in Care.

As if this wasn’t bad enough, the film proceeds to present a very glib picture of how adoption works. There is a side story about a young refugee who has travelled to Britain from Syria, becoming accidentally lost from his father along the way. A social worker appears to care for him (wearing a stereotypical rainbow jumper, obviously) and takes him to what I assume is meant to be a foster placement. This isn’t so bad but Mr. Poppy’s brother announces that as neither he nor the boy have a family or home, they will need to get themselves adopted. Aside from the fact that you wouldn’t family-find for a child who is looking to be reunited with their father nor for a grown man, the film’s handling of the next steps is insensitive to say the least. According to a very facetious scene, children get to interview potential adopters and ask them ridiculous questions. As we know, potential adoptees are not offered such a say, if any, in their future parents and to suggest they are and that the process is so superficial felt distasteful at best. One question asked is: “If you adopt us, who will be your favourite?” to which the potential adopters point to their birth child as if to say “obviously her.”

I couldn’t help feeling the whole idea of adoption was laughed at and demeaned.

To compound it all, the adopters all say no to the pair and Mr Poppy’s brother announces they are homeless and will need to sleep on the streets. I know that our Care system has its flaws but suggesting to fostered children that all potential parents could reject them and leave them to live alone and outdoors is at least triggering and at most the stuff of their nightmares.

By this point we have a picture of children in Care as being unloved, rejected at every turn and destined for a life on the streets. I suppose if the film were about being in Care and raising awareness of some of the issues experienced by care leavers, this might be appropriate but it would need to be balanced by success stories, permanence and safety. I definitely don’t think that the message we have received is the one we want to give to young people in Care at Christmas, of whom there are thousands who, like other children, will want to see the film.

I can see that Nativity Rocks is trying to be inclusive and representative of all different types of families, which is laudable, but unfortunately a great deal is lost in the execution and the refugee issues are somewhat conflated with the Care issues. The Refugee is eventually happily reunited with his father but as the storylines are so confused, the film rather suggests that any child who has been separated from their birth families could be reunited with them, if they try hard enough. Again, not an appropriate message for children grieving the loss of their birth families or an appropriate message for non-care experienced children who will go away thinking adoption is a temporary solution to having accidentally misplaced a parent.

Such inaccuracies are irresponsible, especially in a high budget production that will be seen by thousands.

At another point, Mr. Poppy’s brother and the young refugee go home with a little boy who has a very affluent background. They stay there without the boy’s parents knowing but once they’re discovered, the Social Worker asks if they can stay because, you know, who gives two hoots about paperwork or approval or checking adults are safe.

The problems come thick and fast. Not only do we have all the above to contend with but the Social Worker is portrayed as hapless. Her father refers to her having “lost one before” as though mislaying a child in her Care would be amusing. She goes on to ‘lose’ the young refugee (oh how we raise our eyebrows and titter) and then a dog, which is apparently similar to losing a child.

I know that as a viewer of any film I should expect artistic licence and the impossible to become possible. If you can imagine it, anything can become real in a film. I’m all for that and some factual incongruities or inaccuracies wouldn’t be enough to bother me. What concerns me is when something is so inaccurate or portrayed in such a skewed fashion as to become harmful. I fear that’s what happened in this film. I feel the potential for re-traumatisation or the risk of worry or upset is far higher than necessary, especially in a film which sets out to entertain and spread Christmas cheer. For those it won’t upset, it will do nothing to improve their knowledge and understanding of the Care process.

Aside from the clumsy content, there are themes of loss and separation running throughout the film which could alone be enough to upset our children.

For me, the handling of adoption and fostering themes was catastrophically bad. Grizzly is usually fairly immune to the odd inappropriate comment but he was pretty outraged too. We were genuinely bemused as to how the film got approved. I’ve no idea who researched it but I don’t think they tried very hard – I certainly don’t think they spoke to anybody even remotely involved with the Care System. In my opinion, this is not one for fostered or adopted children or children who are separated from their families for any other reason. It’s a shame because the film is quite funny in places and Big Bear in particular was pleased about the rock music aspects. Little Bear liked parts of it but there were several bits that made Grizzly and I feel very uncomfortable to be watching it with him. He didn’t say anything but he did ask to play with one of our phones half way through and we let him because of the content. Sometimes with him it percolates and the questions might come later or the worries might come out through his behaviour.

Overall, an insensitive, badly-handled and ill-informed film that perpetuates harmful myths about children in Care. Nativity Rocks unfortunately doesn’t rock and I’m left wondering what on earth they were thinking.

 

Fear of Loss

Little Bear has had an emotional few weeks. It began with the unfortunate death of his pet hen. It was unfortunate because he hadn’t had her that long and she was originally called Curious George (before he re-named her Izzy, that is) and curiosity really did kill the hen. She was a serial escaper, the true Houdini of hens, scaling the 6 foot fence on innumerable occasions and outwitting all our attempts to contain her. Alas one night she must have taken one chance too many and been met by an errant fox.

When Grizzly, Big Bear and I discovered the loss, we could already foresee the problem: this would hit Little Bear hard. We did the usual thing; Grizzly and Big Bear went to the farm to get another hen that we planned to pop into the hen run without Little Bear being any the wiser. However, Izzy was a beautiful black hen, with shiny iridescent feathers and when the boys arrived at the farm, there were no black hens left. Eek. We were left with no choice but to tell him the truth and replace Izzy with a different coloured hen.

Little Bear initially took the news quite well. The distraction of a new hen waiting outside for him in a box was helpful, especially when she turned out to be the friendliest hen we’ve ever had and allowed Little Bear to pick her up and cuddle her straight away. She was immediately christened Ronaldo and apart from the poor thing’s gender confusion, all was well with the world.

However, as the day wore on, there were several occasions when Little Bear’s eyes filled with tears and he said how sad he was about Izzy. This alone was probably quite triggering but to add insult to injury, Grizzly had to go away that evening to Germany. Grizzly travels a fair bit with work, he is generally away overnight most weeks but it is usually in the UK and evidently the idea of him going away for 3 sleeps and in a plane felt quite different to Little Bear. We could tell something was bothering him from his behaviour. Over the morning, Little Bear found it harder and harder to listen, becoming rude and a little verbally aggressive. Much of this was targeted at Grizzly.

After lunch we decided to go to the park for a few hours to have some quality family time before Grizzly went. When Little Bear and I were in the downstairs loo, him stood on the loo seat looking into the mirror while I applied his sun cream, he took me by surprise with a throwaway comment. “I don’t remember being in that girl’s tummy,” he said out of nowhere. “Your birth mum?” I asked and said her name. “Yeah,” “Well, most people don’t remember being inside someone’s tummy either,” I reassured. “Ok,” he replied, hopped down and wandered off.

Sometimes these life story chats are so random and out of the blue that you are left wondering if they really happened. I made a mental note to fill Grizzly in when we got to the park, as evidently Little Bear had a busy mind that day.

In the car, the situation between Little Bear and Grizzly was deteriorating further. I don’t think Little Bear had followed some instruction or other and appeared to be being purposefully combative. Grizzly was rapidly running out of patience. Things were heading towards explosion territory. Without wanting to replay the conversation we’d had in the toilet in front of Little Bear, I suggested to Grizzly that Little Bear might have a lot on his mind and that might be why he was behaving as he was. Grizzly managed to wind himself back, which is so hard when you are already at the getting mad stage and wondered aloud to Little Bear whether he might be getting annoyed with him because he was really sad about him going to Germany. It’s so obvious now when we’ve got the wondering right because Little Bear crumbles in front of your eyes and can turn in a split second from furious rage to heartbreak. Sure enough, he just dissolved. Yes, he didn’t want Grizzly to go and he was sad his hen had died. We did the usual reassurances but on this occasion Little Bear was so upset that we only got a few metres down the road before we had to pull the car over. He climbed into the front, into Grizzly’s knee and wept.

It was such a shame. Its times like this when being adopted is different. For children who have not lost an entire previous life, losing a pet does not spiral into wondering whether daddy really will come back. It doesn’t trigger all those feelings of having lost precious people before. It doesn’t make them think about the mysterious woman who gave birth to them or the family they never see. It doesn’t make them fearful of losing everything all over again.

Little Bear’s hen loss was a real loss. His dad going to Germany for three days and coming back again was not. However, having the background that Little Bear has causes him to perceive a small or temporary separation as a potential loss. The threat of real loss is never too far away when you’re adopted. He has been with us more than 2 and a half years now. That time has been really stable. Nobody has left him. However, the significant losses of his birth family and then his foster carers in his formative years have left an indelible stain on his memory. I wonder whether that will fade over time or whether the threat of loss will always haunt him like this.

I spoke with school on the Monday morning, to make them aware of Little Bear’s fragile emotional state. It was a good job because that day, for the first time ever, he talked to Mrs C, his TA, about some of his life story. I have spoken to her since and she said that Grizzly being away really impacted on Little Bear. He had struggled more in school; regressed in his attitude to learning and even sabotaged his work, something he had completely stopped doing.

Unfortunately, shortly after Grizzly got back, it became obvious he had caught some lurgy from the plane and was unwell. He wasn’t at death’s door ill, just man flu ill, but Little Bear was worried in a death’s door kind of way, I suppose because his threat of loss censors where still on high alert. It’s so hard for him, having to carry around the weight of worry that something bad might happen to someone he loves all the time.

Thankfully, Mrs C seemed to get it and made the link with Little Bear’s earlier life without me needing to point it out. I really feel as though she has been listening to us rabbiting on all year and she is pretty tuned into the little dude now, thank goodness. Having an understanding approach at school and some extra cuddles will no doubt have helped Little Bear to get back on track a little quicker.

 

*In looking for a medical term for ‘fear of loss’, I stumbled upon this list of fears: 

Phobias list

Check it out, it’s pretty entertaining. Obviously I don’t find people having fears funny but I’m hard pushed to believe some of them are real… Fear of sitting down, Tuberculosis or being infested by worms anyone?