Why are the experiences of people born, like me, in Temple Hill forgotten?

Residents of the old St Patrick’s Infant and Dietetic Hospital are excluded from redress schemes despite its role in adoptions

Neptune House, the home of St Patrick’s Infant and Dietetic Hospital and known as Temple Hill, prior to its redevelopment as private housing. Photograph: Cyril Byrne
Neptune House, the home of St Patrick’s Infant and Dietetic Hospital and known as Temple Hill, prior to its redevelopment as private housing. Photograph: Cyril Byrne

I spent the first three months of my life in a contested space: Temple Hill in Blackrock, Dublin, commonly known as St Patrick’s Infant and Dietetic Hospital.

It is contested because there is a fundamental disagreement as to its historical purpose: there are two different retrospective interpretations of its function. To this day the Government insists that it was a hospital; but in reality, it was an adoption home for infants and babies.

It was stated in a parliamentary question in the Dáil by Sinn Féin TD Claire Kerrane last year that: “Temple Hill does not qualify for supports, redress or recognition because it was a hospital, yet babies were adopted and paid for on foot of newspaper advertisements. Many children went to America. I have never heard of a hospital that does that.”

Despite the indisputable fact that many children were adopted from Temple Hill through the former adoption society St Patrick’s Guild, and some were resident for lengthy periods of time, it is one of at least four institutions excluded from the Mother and Baby Institutions payment scheme as it was not on the initial list of homes investigated by the Commission of Investigation into Mother and Baby Homes. The fact that it was not an institution within the meaning of the terms of the commission and no mothers resided there with their babies (apparently they were taken from them at the door) kept it out of its terms of reference.

I am not seeking a payment under the scheme or looking for redress personally, because I left Temple Hill with my adoptive parents at the age of three months. I was fortunate to grow up with six siblings – five adopted, also from the same location – in a stimulating and supportive environment, but I am advocating for people who have been left out.

The Irish Human Rights and Equality Commission has stated that the official commission report was flawed because many institutions were excluded. Its remit was too narrow.

In an “alternative report”, a team including survivors, activists and eminent academics wrote that its “text excluded significant cohorts of affected people” and that “it is regrettable that the Commission did not request to modify its terms of reference to permit deep engagement with a wider range of organisations”.

Minister for Children, Disability and Equality Norma Foley will have a chance to review the operation of the scheme within six months of its second anniversary, by September 2026.

Many of the now-ageing adults who were resident and abused in institutions and identify themselves as “survivors” in need of the supports offered by the scheme are currently left in limbo.

I had the pleasure of meeting the Irish artist Bernard Canavan, a recipient of the prestigious Presidential Award for his contribution to Irish culture in the UK at the Irish Cultural Centre in Hammersmith, London.

He recently held an exhibition at The United Arts Club in Dublin entitled Theocracy. His paintings represent the trauma that he and others endured in institutions. He was a long-term resident of the same Temple Hill in Blackrock, more than 25 years before me.

Despite evidence of his abuse, neglect, lengthy period of residency at Temple Hill, and his advanced age, he is excluded from the payment scheme because of “contested” definitions.

The National Council for Curriculum and Assessment (NCCA) has set up a comprehensive curriculum resource on “mother and baby homes” for the Junior Cycle. It developed it in collaboration with groups involved in advocating for survivors of “historic” institutions. This is an important and worthwhile initiative.

The list of related literature for the English curriculum is comprehensive and impressive, including the novel Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan and the play An Trial by Máiréad Ní Ghráda. The curriculum has input from many survivors and is all the better for it. However, the framing of the curriculum comes directly from the NCCA, a statutory body of the Department of Education.

At the launch, Minister for Education Helen McEntee said: “It is vital that our young people learn about the history of this State in every aspect, and in order to provide this teaching and learning, teachers must be supported with resources such as this one.”

One of the resources for Junior Cycle teachers - a series of slides, maps, a list of the homes included in the Commission’s report - omits the contested homes.

Much of the lengthy reading list that goes with the teacher supports comprises “official” reports. Searching through the voluminous reading list, I eventually found an alternative “List of Institutions, Agencies and Personnel Involved in Separating Unmarried Mothers from their Children.” It is collated by Claire McGettrick and the Justice for Magdalenes Research and Adoption Rights Alliance. The database includes St Patrick’s Infant Dietetic Hospital (aka Temple Hill).

It is vital that students understand how our Government and legal system operates to include and exclude people from access to justice. These nuances matter. If school children are taught to think critically they might be driven to question as to whether their history curriculum is in fact “history” or “current affairs”?

In Fintan O’Toole’s excellent recent article on the excavation of the Tuam site, he writes that: “This is making history in a double sense – doing something that has never been done before while simultaneously reshaping a country’s understanding of its own recent past. And, hopefully, of its present.”

 It seems ironic that the novel Nineteen Eighty-Four has been removed from the Senior Cycle curriculum for 2026 by the Department of Education, while Greta Gerwig’s film Barbie has been deemed worthy of inclusion.

Leaving Certificate students won’t have to read George Orwell’s text or consider one of its most memorable lines: “Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.” But they will have a chance to consider this dialogue by Weird Barbie: “That Ken of yours, he is one nice looking little protein pot … I’d like to see what kind of nude blob he’s packing under those jeans.”

Rachel Fehily is a barrister, lecturer in literature and justice at UCD and is engaged in interdisciplinary creative-based doctoral studies supported by Research Ireland