I recently came across a blog on the New York Times Web site called Relative Choices: Adoption and the American Family. The blog is maintained by over a dozen authors, all with some tie to the adoption community.
Having been adopted as an infant and having just spent 8 weeks in Korea reuniting with my birth family, reading the blog has really hit close to home for me. The entries themselves, which range from topics of dual racial identity to separation and attachment issues, all touch on topics that are very real and very true in my own life, but in addition, I was amazed by the comments and discussions posted by other readers of the blog.
When celebrities like Madonna and Angelina Jolie internationally adopted their children, transnational and interracial adoption became instant buzzwords around the world. Suddenly, the concept of the only family structure I had ever known was being dissected in gossip magazines and people made adoption out to be something of a trend or passing fad.
In reality, international adoption dates back to the Korean War, when white American families (mostly from Minnesota) began taking war orphans into their homes and raising them.
Two years ago, I enrolled in the first known college course about international adoption, called Cultures of Korean Adoption. About half the class was made up of Korean adoptees, and the class was taught by a Korean adoptee who was doing her PhD. work in the area of Korean adoption.
The class was interesting, and acted as a crash course for me in the history of a system that eventually brought me to my family. It also opened my eyes to a much larger debate about the advantages and disadvantages of international and interracial adoption.
Most of the other adoptees in my class had very different experiences growing up than I had. Certainly the writers of the memoirs we read had very different experiences, having grown up a generation or two before me and my adopted friends.
In the 1970s, Korean adoptees seemed to be few and far between. Resources like Korean culture camp, language villages and dance groups didn’t exist for adoptees and their families. Schools didn’t offer counseling groups for adopted students. Agencies didn’t encourage parents to introduce their children to their native cultures.
I grew up in Minnesota, the so-called Korean adoptee capital of the world. An estimated 10-15,000 adoptees currently live in
Our dance group, Chonsa, was mostly adoptees, including our teacher. From fifth grade all the way to college, I had adopted friends and an adopted role model. I had a support network who understood that sometimes I felt out of place in my own family, who knew that it felt weird to be the only Asian kid in a class at school.
An interesting thing happened while I’ve been at college. A group of adoptees, myself included, came together last fall and tried to form a student group for Korean adoptees. We paired with the local adult adoptee group to host an artists’ showcase, and invited adoptees from the community to come.
Many local adoptee “elders” came and all of them praised us for banding together on campus. “I wish we had something like this when I was in school,” they said.
Unfortunately, about six weeks later, our little group sort of disbanded. The semester ended and we seemed to go our own separate ways. I believe this is because so many of us grew up here, and that we really didn’t have a need for a formal reason to come together. There’s a sort of loose adoptee network in place just through summer culture camps and language villages, dance groups and Korean classes.
The adoptees who grew up in the generation before us seemed to come together as adults, finding one another for the first time. For us, we grew up with adoption as a much different part of our lives.
I still see my Korean adoptee friends, either in language class or out on the weekends. My adoption is very much a part of my life. I feel the duality of my identity every day, whether it’s a debate in our newsroom about coverage of minorities or something as simple as choosing rice or pasta for dinner.
It’s unlikely that I’ll ever be fluent in Korean, a fact that seems to drive my Korean family a little crazy. I probably will never live in Korea, because it’s a culture I feel so disconnected from. But it’s also unlikely that I’ll ever lose my connection to the adoptee culture, one which I firmly believe exists. It’s a culture of conflict, loss, identity, tragedy and confusion, but it’s mine and I’m okay with owning that.
7 comments:
A friend of mine was adopted during the Korean War. Her whole village was wiped out and was found by American soilders. Still an infant, one of the soilders adopted her and brought her home to New York.
She was raised along with her adopted families younger brother and was raised in a prodominate Hispanic/Black neigborhood.
Hearing her speak and her mannerism you would never think she is Korean until you saw her. She has no Korean family to speak of and is very grateful that she was found and raised in a very loving family that treated her as one of their own and not as an adopted child.
What an amazing story. So often cultural issues are typically centered around the disparity between African Americans and Caucasians that we seem to forget that the US is a melting pot of many cultures and races. All of whom struggle with their own unique set of issues. Continue to embrace your culture as it is a part of who you are. And ultimately, be blessed!
It sounds like you had a easy life being adopted. But what happens for those adoptees that weren't as fortunate? Like me, for example I grew up in rural area where the Korean population was almost extinct and I grew up in a mostly white community where the people were racist and still had hatred for the Korean people because of the Korean War.
Because of this I have struggled with cultural idenity and racism. Sometimes when you don't have other Asians around you you begin to go with another ethnic group such as Blacks or Hispanics to try and fit in where you think you belong.
I don't deny my Korean heritage I am very proud of it but sometimes you can't put together the pieces that are out of reach and that aren't there. For many nights when I was younger I cried for my mother.
I was 21 years old before I got a first hand look at being around other Asians. And I got that experience from working in a Japanese restraunt. And because I wasn't use to the culture, it was a culture shock.
Because of the racism I endured my adopted parents didn't understand that issue because they are white and that's one thing they don't deal with. So instead I struggled with this in silence.
For you, you had the chance to interact with other Koreans on a daily basis but the reality for me was, I had to look at Korean life from a book with pictures.
A guy that I know of that was also adopted from Korea had a hard life- from what I hear he was in and out of jail and was disowned by his adopted family. Some of the adopted Koreans that I know of - live in divorced homes.
So I think that in a way your blog is misleading because it does not represent the full picture of what it is to being adopted. Being adopted is not peaches and cream for a lot of adopted Koreans and a lot of them have a hard life.
I think there are too many complicated issues that a person being adopted must face. I never think it is a good idea for an American person to adopt from another country unless they are really able to provide the connection to that child's cultural identiy. For me I didn't have that luxary.
Today, I am in a better place in my life. I accept that maybe I cannot reconnect with my past the way I would have liked and that the only thing I can be is ME. Now I have the confidence to know that I'm going to be alright.
I am trying to provide the people reading this with another side to being adopted and it's not always a happy fairy tale- that there are many issues that are very complicated and complex.
My cousin and her husband have four adopted children from Korea (we are white). The three younger ones are a sibling group whose birth parents gave them up for adoption because they did not have the money to take care of them. The youngest was six at the time so they knew what was going on. This is, of course, absolutely heartbreaking. I sometimes wonder how "voluntary" the adoption was, as is the case sometimes in Africa when birth parents are either not notified or coerced in to giving their children up for adoption or put in orphaneges when there are other relatives would take them in. The oldest is a parental figure for the younger two which is a big burden for any child. Have you run across any other cases like this? This is a horribly sad situation for everyone involved. Thanks.
I am completely American, but have thought of adopting a Korean child. In fact, I am currently learning Korean. However, I wouldn't want to adopt if this could cause pain on the part of the child in the future. If I could get some advise on this matter, it would be appreciated.
I am completely American. I have thought of adopting a Korean child. In fact, I am currently learning Korean. However, I wouldn't want to adopt if this would cause pain on the part of the child in the future. If I could get some advise, it would be very much appreciated.
I was adopted from Korea and came to the U.S. when I was four months old. Being adopted is a blessing, but also, sometimes I wish I could have a Korean family like other Korean friends of mine...
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