Care Leavers' Association

For anyone who has grown up in care, the information contained in their social services file is almost bound to be interesting and important. Once you have left care, it is much more important to you than it ever will be to anyone else.

Previously, if its contents were prior to the changes introduced by the 1987 Access to Records Act, it was often difficult to get access to it. However, this should be changing now under the Data Protection Act 1998 so check the rest of this website for more information on your legal position. Obviously, there can be legal reasons why social services might need to hang on to the information in the file and there are frequently identities to be protected, but photocopiers and tippex should solve most of those problems. In what follows, I am going to use my own experience to illustrate some of the difficulties involved and also some of the rewards. However, my own story is not necessarily typical. There appear to be great inconsistencies between authorities. Several friends who have been in care have also tried to get hold of their files. Their success has varied. I will come back to this subject at the end.

Stage One

The process happened like this. I was in the care of Wirral Social Services, in various children's homes (including a couple of years in Liverpool) for fourteen years (1966-1980). When I left care, I had no life story book and very few photographs (I got quite a collection of photographs, many years later, through visiting the woman who ran the homes I was in for most of that time). I didn't think I could get access to my file when I left. I had certainly never seen it, as far as I can recall, and it never occurred to me to ask. After university (1981-84), I joined NAYPIC and became more interested in finding out about my past through hearing about others from the care system who had tried to get hold of their files.

By this time, I was living in Norwich. Fortunately, I was going home to visit my father on a regular basis. On one of these trips, in early 1988, I went into the local social services office and inquired about seeing my file. I knew something about the Access to Records Act and mistakenly thought it granted me full access rights. It turned out to be more complicated than that. I was referred to another office, since I hadn't actually been in care in Rockferry. That office couldn't give me access immediately. I needed to fill in a form and give them notice. I went back to Norwich and awaited the form. I received a letter telling me to write, instead, direct to the Area Officer. I wrote to him in June 1988 and received a quick reply requesting an application form be completed. I duly did this, requesting at the same time that I be able to photocopy the file or have it at home for a few days to make notes and study it properly.

My request to photocopy or borrow the file was turned down (I haven't got a record of the reasons). Anway, I got to see my file, in the company of the Area Officer and after proving my identity, for about an hour and half. He had already, helpfully, taken some notes of his own from the file to give to me. These gave some of the bare facts of my entry in care and some significant events. I was then allowed to look at various extracted bits and make me own notes. By then, I was a post-graduate student and used to taking notes quickly. I managed six and a half sides of A4, doubled-spaced. I left with an appreciation of the time he'd given to this and his general helpfulness, but also feeling dissatisfied that I'd only been allowed a couple of hours access to the story of 14 years of my life.

Stage Two

In 1990, after hearing a story of a young person who had been given their file on ‘permanent loan' and also hearing, worryingly, of a policy (thankfully dropped) that old files were soon to be pulped by Wirral Social Services, I wrote again requesting that I have the file. The same Area Officer wrote back, confirming that there had been a file destruction policy but that it had been deferred. He also said he couldn't let me have the file, but didn't give a reason. He said I should let him know if I wanted to look at my file again and he would facilitate it. I didn't think it would be worth it for another six pages of notes (with hindsight, it would have been) and left it there.

Stage Three

The next phase was more complex and bureaucratic, but ultimately more satisfying:

• August 1996: I wrote to the Director of Social Services requesting the file on permanent loan and enclosing an article from ‘Who Cares?' magazine, demonstrating that there was a precedent for this.
• February 1997: I chase response, but having moved house it had gone astray. The Director of Social Services encloses her response from November, apologising for the delay due to locating the file and consulting the Borough solicitor. The latter's advice was that I needed permission from other family members featured in the file. After that, I would not be able to have the file but could take photocopies.
• April 1997: I get relevant signed letters from my brother and father, giving their permission (my mother was long dead by this time) and send on to Social Services.
• May 1997: I receive a reply from the Director, confirming receipt and asking me to ring her secretary to make an appointment for a meeting in July.
• July 1997: I am not able to meet with the Director, but meet with the Principal Officer, Children's Division instead. He shows me the file, allows me to indicate which bits I would like photocopying (about 60% of it) and promises to do so and post them to me. I notice that references to those other than my brother and father have been tippexed out.
• I get the photocopied pages (about 60 of them; reviews; progress sheets, important letters).

Reading the file, I learn a lot more about my mother (I knew very little and was always rather wary of asking my father; it felt very much like a taboo subject between us). She had been in a mental hospital since I was three and I'd seen her only intermittently after that, prior to her death when I was seventeen. I also learn some more about my father and other background issues and am reminded of things I'd forgotten.

In my case, I was eventually satisfied, but I needed to be persistent and I can understand why some people give up. My brother has struggled to get access to his file, though for reasons I can't recall. One of the best examples of practice on this came from when I was helping to run an in-care group in Norfolk in the early 1990s. One young man in his early 20s wanted to follow my earlier example. He had spent almost his whole childhood in care. It took a few phone calls and letters, which I helped him with. Eventually, he got a series of appointments with a social worker to go through his file in stages and be counselled through various issues in it. This was ended by him being given a full or almost full copy of the file. I know he appreciated that experience and found it rewarding.

There is clearly a need for some bureaucracy in all this, but it is off-putting. One of the biggest things young people need in such circumstances is countervailing support and encouragement to help them through to a successful conclusion. The rewards in my case were priceless, but it would be easy for many young people to get disheartened by the process. This is particularly so because many of them are doing it on their own, without anyone around them who fully understands why it matters so much. Even many social workers would struggle to understand why, if my house burnt down tomorrow, the three things I'd grab on the way out would be my photograph collection, my letters and my social services file - and, no, it isn't because I'm a sad git who can't move on. So much of my life is bound up in those photocopied papers. I first realised just how much when I visited a girlfriend's parents when aged 21. There were constant stories about the past and her childhood, shared knowledge that she could access at any time. It was a living, oral family history. I realised that I had next to no one who knew my story. Even my brother, who knew more than anyone else, was as ignorant as me on many subjects. That file, even though it leaves many things unsaid, fills a massive gap that nothing else can.

NB: any correspondence on this subject can be addressed to me via This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .