Denied roots, one law too many

by Carmen Vogani

«Where do I come from?» it’s the question that dwells in every human life. For thousands of people born to anonymous mothers, adopted or placed in foster care, it is much more than an inner reflection. It’s a physiological need, and a quest that is hampered by legislative vacuums and institutional indolence.

Melania Petriello gives voice to these lives suspended between denied identity and the longing for truth in La strada di casa [The Road Home], Round Robin, a book written with civic rigor and deep empathy. Petriello turns on her recorder and, without pity or sentimentality, sits face-to-face with Anna, entrusted to the Naples orphanage by a “woman who does not allow her name to be mentioned”. Anna is searching for her origins, a search made urgent by illness and the need for a transplant from blood relatives. She sifts through old files and yellowed documents as if solving a mystery. The answer awaits her on a gravestone, in Canada. “Have you forgiven her?” Petriello gently asks. “I wish I could have told her: I understand you”, Anna replies.

This is the thread running through the book, where daughters hold no resentment. Here unfolds the meeting between the pain of being abandoned and the understanding of those who chose, or were forced, to abandon them. For example, Rossella, who was a victim of violence, and gave birth anonymously as a minor, and then followed the advice of a “family friend.” When she realizes the betrayal, it’s already too late. Rossella will never know what became of her son, unless the law changes. This book is both a testimony and a political denunciation. Petriello reconstructs the legal landscape and lays bare its contradictions.

Chief among these contradictions is how can two diverging rights coexist? On one side, the right to anonymous birth, which has been hard-won through valuable feminist battles, and on the other, the right to know one’s roots. Petriello, as a journalist, claims she prefers the precision of questions over the balm of ready-made answers.

And yet, one answer rises to the surface: if years later, a daughter and a mother choose to go back on their decision, why should a law stand in their way? Speaking of roads, perhaps a third path exists, which is consent. No choice should ever be irreversible.