I think one really awesome thing about the Korean adoption community is that we are a global community. Though most Korean adoptees have come to the US, representation can be found in Australia, France, Norway, Japan and many more countries. Collectively we are fluent in numerous languages and cultures. To me, there is a sense of both beauty and power in that. It makes me excited for what our community is doing now and for the potential we have to do great things in the future.
Deann Borshay Liem, a filmmaker and Korean adoptee, is truly honoring our global community through her upcoming documentary, Geographies of Kinship. I am so very excited for this film as it follows the lives of five Korean adoptees around the world. Watching just the preview for it already got me misty eyed over the weekend. The film has been seeking financial support over the past month and its online fundraiser is about to end. Although the funding goal has already been met, please at least take a look at the preview and consider offering your support! I think this will be storytelling at its best and a beautiful tribute to the Korean adoption community.
Link here: Geographies of Kinship
Showing posts with label kads. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kads. Show all posts
Monday, July 30, 2012
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Article time!
No post today, just an article to share over at the Awl written by KAD journalist Sarah Idzik: Return to the Motherland. The article discusses the KAD experience upon returning to Korea from multiple adoptee perspectives (including yours truly). Check it out if you get the chance! Happy weekend!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
My biological clock is NOT ticking, but..
I’m back in the states and finally un-jet lagged enough to write! However, trying to figure out what to say in my first post-Korea entry has been surprisingly daunting. Over the past few days I have attempted to sort out the memories and emotions to no avail. So, instead of summarizing the trip, my various thoughts and experiences will probably unfold throughout numerous entries.
Today I am thinking about a baby. On my final day in Korea, I spent the morning at Eastern Social Welfare’s baby home which is where a number of babies are cared for prior to entering a foster home (and then eventually an adoptive home). I played with and soothed babies for over an hour. Many of them were preemies. They were so delicate and vulnerable. I wanted to hug all of them close, but I fell in love especially with one baby boy who looked at me with these big curious eyes. He had been crying in his cradle and became instantly contented once I picked him up. I realized possibly for the first time how intoxicating it can be to care for an infant. The way they look up at you and need you fills your heart in the most indescribable way. I probably only held him for around 20 minutes, but it was enough to reduce me to mush. To say it was hard for me to leave that room would be an understatement. Looking at the number of workers compared to babies, I don't know how much individual attention they really get.. All that baby wanted was someone to pay him attention.
Now I am miles away and wondering if that boy’s mother ever got to hold him before he was brought to Eastern. And if she did, how on earth did she manage to let him go? Is she thinking about him right now? Because I can’t stop thinking about those sweet eyes. He is not yet a Korean adoptee, but perhaps he will be soon and, in some weird sense, I feel connected to him for that. I wonder what kind of life he will have growing up and what kind of feelings he will have towards being adopted. He will grow up in a different age than I did. Maybe he will get to avoid some of the frustrations and sadness that I experienced, or maybe he will simply experience them in smaller amounts. Or, worse, bigger amounts. But I so deeply hope that wherever he ends up, he finds home and some sense of peace.
As corny as this sounds, holding him inspired me. I know I want to contribute to the adoption field in some capacity. It’s one reason why I blog at all—because adult adoptee voices are needed and should inform adoption. Telling our stories, I hope, is one way of improving quality of life for the newest generations of adoptees. I still don’t really know where my niche will be in all of this, but I somehow feel one step closer to it.
Today I am thinking about a baby. On my final day in Korea, I spent the morning at Eastern Social Welfare’s baby home which is where a number of babies are cared for prior to entering a foster home (and then eventually an adoptive home). I played with and soothed babies for over an hour. Many of them were preemies. They were so delicate and vulnerable. I wanted to hug all of them close, but I fell in love especially with one baby boy who looked at me with these big curious eyes. He had been crying in his cradle and became instantly contented once I picked him up. I realized possibly for the first time how intoxicating it can be to care for an infant. The way they look up at you and need you fills your heart in the most indescribable way. I probably only held him for around 20 minutes, but it was enough to reduce me to mush. To say it was hard for me to leave that room would be an understatement. Looking at the number of workers compared to babies, I don't know how much individual attention they really get.. All that baby wanted was someone to pay him attention.
Now I am miles away and wondering if that boy’s mother ever got to hold him before he was brought to Eastern. And if she did, how on earth did she manage to let him go? Is she thinking about him right now? Because I can’t stop thinking about those sweet eyes. He is not yet a Korean adoptee, but perhaps he will be soon and, in some weird sense, I feel connected to him for that. I wonder what kind of life he will have growing up and what kind of feelings he will have towards being adopted. He will grow up in a different age than I did. Maybe he will get to avoid some of the frustrations and sadness that I experienced, or maybe he will simply experience them in smaller amounts. Or, worse, bigger amounts. But I so deeply hope that wherever he ends up, he finds home and some sense of peace.
As corny as this sounds, holding him inspired me. I know I want to contribute to the adoption field in some capacity. It’s one reason why I blog at all—because adult adoptee voices are needed and should inform adoption. Telling our stories, I hope, is one way of improving quality of life for the newest generations of adoptees. I still don’t really know where my niche will be in all of this, but I somehow feel one step closer to it.
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
An American in Seoul
I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m only about two weeks away from departing for Korea! I know I haven’t really discussed this on the blog in many months. Too many things have been on my mind, but right now I am absolutely focused on my trip. After much debate, I chose to do an adult adoptee tour which will be for ten days. Coming to that decision was incredibly difficult for me and I may have to dedicate a different post to this later. I felt very conflicted for a while which is another reason why I failed to blog anything about it. At this moment, however, I am mostly excited to be going and busying myself trying to prepare.
I’m preparing in some pretty standard ways, like finding travel-sized containers for toiletries and getting a converter plug, but the biggest thing for me has been preparing to adapt to Korea. There is so much I don’t know. I am a foreigner to my birth culture. However, I won’t look like a foreigner in Korea at all. My mentee even told me that I am the average height of a Korean woman. People will expect me to be like them when I’m just not in so many ways. It’s already happened to me multiple times in the US, so in Korea I can only imagine it will happen tenfold. And Korea really does have such a homogenous population. How can I blame them for assuming? To come across an ibyang (Korean word for adoptee) is probably not a typical experience.
So, really, preparation for me has been about learning to be ‘more Korean’. I’m not going to lie: a big part of me wants to fit in. Maybe that is a juvenile thing to say, but it’s honestly how I feel. I do not want to be stumbling through every day in Korea as this glaringly American foreigner having no idea about language or cultural norms, especially when I am Korean myself! I’ve been cramming Korean language lessons into my head, learning about manners and even put my ears on a strict diet of Korean music only. If this sounds a little ridiculous, it probably is. I kind of feel like this is middle school all over again when I had to have gel pens, wear flared jeans and watch South Park just so I could discuss it with other kids at school.
The thing is, TV shows and fashion are just trends that fade away, but Korea will always be a part of me. Maybe all this determination to learn about the culture is a phase. Or maybe it’s something more than that. Maybe it’s a path leading to a better sense of who I am. Some KADs seem so confident and grounded in their sense of self while others seem to be in a perpetual identity crisis. I’m….somewhere in that fray. Learning Korean is getting a little frustrating, but I have always loved learning languages. And k-pop over the past year has slowly made its way into my regular music rotation. There is definitely a pleasure that comes from having these pieces of Korea in my life. I don’t pursue these things solely out of obligation, but because they bring an extra level of joy to my life. They might not necessarily make me ‘more Korean’, though, whatever that even means. And, at the end of the day, what’s wrong with me being American? I am American and that’s not something I can simply erase when I arrive in Seoul. Like Korea, America will always be a part of me, too. It’s always been my dominant culture and, while it’s certainly not perfect, there are things about being American that I love.
I am a Korean American adoptee. It’s only taken me up to this point to really stand back, look at each word and think ‘what the heck does that mean, anyway?’. I have a feeling it’s a question I will spend my whole life answering.
I’m preparing in some pretty standard ways, like finding travel-sized containers for toiletries and getting a converter plug, but the biggest thing for me has been preparing to adapt to Korea. There is so much I don’t know. I am a foreigner to my birth culture. However, I won’t look like a foreigner in Korea at all. My mentee even told me that I am the average height of a Korean woman. People will expect me to be like them when I’m just not in so many ways. It’s already happened to me multiple times in the US, so in Korea I can only imagine it will happen tenfold. And Korea really does have such a homogenous population. How can I blame them for assuming? To come across an ibyang (Korean word for adoptee) is probably not a typical experience.
So, really, preparation for me has been about learning to be ‘more Korean’. I’m not going to lie: a big part of me wants to fit in. Maybe that is a juvenile thing to say, but it’s honestly how I feel. I do not want to be stumbling through every day in Korea as this glaringly American foreigner having no idea about language or cultural norms, especially when I am Korean myself! I’ve been cramming Korean language lessons into my head, learning about manners and even put my ears on a strict diet of Korean music only. If this sounds a little ridiculous, it probably is. I kind of feel like this is middle school all over again when I had to have gel pens, wear flared jeans and watch South Park just so I could discuss it with other kids at school.
The thing is, TV shows and fashion are just trends that fade away, but Korea will always be a part of me. Maybe all this determination to learn about the culture is a phase. Or maybe it’s something more than that. Maybe it’s a path leading to a better sense of who I am. Some KADs seem so confident and grounded in their sense of self while others seem to be in a perpetual identity crisis. I’m….somewhere in that fray. Learning Korean is getting a little frustrating, but I have always loved learning languages. And k-pop over the past year has slowly made its way into my regular music rotation. There is definitely a pleasure that comes from having these pieces of Korea in my life. I don’t pursue these things solely out of obligation, but because they bring an extra level of joy to my life. They might not necessarily make me ‘more Korean’, though, whatever that even means. And, at the end of the day, what’s wrong with me being American? I am American and that’s not something I can simply erase when I arrive in Seoul. Like Korea, America will always be a part of me, too. It’s always been my dominant culture and, while it’s certainly not perfect, there are things about being American that I love.
I am a Korean American adoptee. It’s only taken me up to this point to really stand back, look at each word and think ‘what the heck does that mean, anyway?’. I have a feeling it’s a question I will spend my whole life answering.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Small town girl blues
Well, it’s time for those famous two words that every college student craves to hear: spring break. One of my professors optimistically wished us a week of ‘sunning and funning’. She has a sense of humor. I say that since most of us will be spending said week in cold, rainy New York. I’m heading back to the hometown for some quality time with family, high school friends and my favorite local Greek restaurant. And I will get to snuggle my sheltie and celebrate her second birthday with her. All of these things are good things. Great things, even.
But. (And you knew a ‘but’ was coming.) In my heart of hearts I am not excited about it. In fact, I seem to be heading towards something closer to depression than elation. This sinking feeling has slowly, quietly crept its way in and I can’t deny it any longer. This is only a taste of things to come..of a future that I’ve realized I really, really don’t want.
After I graduate this May, I will be moving back home. Temporarily, at least. I made this decision a long time ago and, for a while, actually looked forward to that decision. I did not warm up to the city I currently reside in for school right away. I missed home, missed my mom who was ill at the time and missed the kisses from my dog. I chose to move back home post-graduation because, frankly, my mom is aging. She’s 68 and lives alone. Without getting into too many details, her physical and mental health have not been well over the past number of years. I first stepped into caregiver shoes at 19 and it really does come down to me. I am her proxy, her advocate, the one responsible over all others for her. I can’t stray too far. And, for a while, I was okay with that.
But it’s been almost two years since I moved out here for graduate school and suddenly two years doesn’t seem long enough. I’m not ready to leave. This is the first place I’ve lived in my young adult life that I’ve felt so free and able to be me. I have had many fulfilling experiences since being here that have contributed beautifully to my growing sense of identity. I started mentoring a few international students from Korea which has been incredible. They are such sweet people and we have learned so much from each other. I also started meeting up with other Korean adoptees around my age in the area. To find company where you can candidly talk about homeland tours, birth family searches and awkward racial experiences is a gift. A complete gift. Here, there are Korean restaurants, markets, churches..even a noraebang house (which I have not yet embarrassed myself at, but maybe soon). Here is a place I’ve found myself belonging and content in. It’s so much more than I ever had before.
In comparison, my hometown is much smaller and much less diverse. There is no opportunity for me to embrace my KAD identity there. There is nothing Korean there! And maybe I didn’t notice so much as a child, but today I resent it a little. It makes me feel hurt and sad that my heritage does not exist there, that I had to grow up in a neighborhood which I singlehandedly diversified. My mom doesn’t even know any Asians other than me and a handful of KADs from our adoption group. I need to live someplace where I can actually feel culturally relevant and validated. I love my mom more than I’ve ever loved any other human being on this earth. It's been just the two of us against the world for as long as I can remember. Why isn’t that love enough to make me want to stay? I talk of moving back as if I have no other choice which is not entirely true. We always have choices. It's just that being in the throes of a 'life sucks' moment makes them a little hard to see. Sometimes being a transracial adoptee feels like trying to walk in two different directons at once.
But. (And you knew a ‘but’ was coming.) In my heart of hearts I am not excited about it. In fact, I seem to be heading towards something closer to depression than elation. This sinking feeling has slowly, quietly crept its way in and I can’t deny it any longer. This is only a taste of things to come..of a future that I’ve realized I really, really don’t want.
After I graduate this May, I will be moving back home. Temporarily, at least. I made this decision a long time ago and, for a while, actually looked forward to that decision. I did not warm up to the city I currently reside in for school right away. I missed home, missed my mom who was ill at the time and missed the kisses from my dog. I chose to move back home post-graduation because, frankly, my mom is aging. She’s 68 and lives alone. Without getting into too many details, her physical and mental health have not been well over the past number of years. I first stepped into caregiver shoes at 19 and it really does come down to me. I am her proxy, her advocate, the one responsible over all others for her. I can’t stray too far. And, for a while, I was okay with that.
But it’s been almost two years since I moved out here for graduate school and suddenly two years doesn’t seem long enough. I’m not ready to leave. This is the first place I’ve lived in my young adult life that I’ve felt so free and able to be me. I have had many fulfilling experiences since being here that have contributed beautifully to my growing sense of identity. I started mentoring a few international students from Korea which has been incredible. They are such sweet people and we have learned so much from each other. I also started meeting up with other Korean adoptees around my age in the area. To find company where you can candidly talk about homeland tours, birth family searches and awkward racial experiences is a gift. A complete gift. Here, there are Korean restaurants, markets, churches..even a noraebang house (which I have not yet embarrassed myself at, but maybe soon). Here is a place I’ve found myself belonging and content in. It’s so much more than I ever had before.
In comparison, my hometown is much smaller and much less diverse. There is no opportunity for me to embrace my KAD identity there. There is nothing Korean there! And maybe I didn’t notice so much as a child, but today I resent it a little. It makes me feel hurt and sad that my heritage does not exist there, that I had to grow up in a neighborhood which I singlehandedly diversified. My mom doesn’t even know any Asians other than me and a handful of KADs from our adoption group. I need to live someplace where I can actually feel culturally relevant and validated. I love my mom more than I’ve ever loved any other human being on this earth. It's been just the two of us against the world for as long as I can remember. Why isn’t that love enough to make me want to stay? I talk of moving back as if I have no other choice which is not entirely true. We always have choices. It's just that being in the throes of a 'life sucks' moment makes them a little hard to see. Sometimes being a transracial adoptee feels like trying to walk in two different directons at once.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
A meaningful experience
Do you think a transnational adoptee needs to acknowledge their birth culture?
Maybe this sounds like a ‘duh’ question, but I like thinking about these types of questions because they can be so easily taken for granted. I pose this question because, through the blogosphere and various media, I have noticed many APs or future APs eager to integrate their child’s birth culture into the child’s life as much as possible. I’m neither agreeing nor disagreeing. I’m simply curious. What informs us that this is the ‘right’ thing to do? What is a parent’s best hope for their child in making that decision?
My mom started integrating Korea into my life seemingly from the start. We were attending a local adoption group before I was out of diapers. The group was open to any family with adopted children, but ended up largely composed of KADs. We had parties at holidays, celebrated the Lunar New Year and many of us went to culture camp together during the summers. For us kids, it was really just time to have fun with friends. Or, if I’m being very honest, it was time for us to all feel awkward together trying say words in Korean and do a fan dance. By the time I was in middle school, most of my ‘generation’ had dropped out of the group and I didn’t want to go anymore, but my mom kept dragging me until I was about 15. I think she had a harder time letting go of it than me. I really didn’t care anymore. A parent might see this adoption group as a positive thing, but from the adolescent’s perspective, I didn’t see the point (and I really didn’t enjoy how wearing hanboks further flattened my nonexistent chest). If my mom had shoved Korean culture down my throat every day, I think I would have become highly resentful.
Today I am very interested in my heritage, but when I look back, I have to wonder if my mom’s choices to keep me involved in the adoption community affected where I stand now. I’m not really sure that it does. I don’t think that integrating a child’s birth culture into their life is necessarily a predictor for how they will feel about that culture as an adult. And for those who don’t recognize their heritage, are they any worse off than someone like me? Does it matter? I know one other KAD who stayed in the adoption group as long as me and today she’s rather indifferent. She’s married with a family, teaching and comfortably settled in suburbia. She has a good life. Never been to Korea, no plans to go or search for birth family. Does she need some more Korea in her life? I know other KADs just doing their thing and I don’t see anything wrong with it. Maybe one day they will feel differently. Maybe they won’t. I think we have just as much a right to pursue our birth culture as we have a right not to.
At the end of the day, I think we’re all just trying to find some measure of acceptance. Of belonging. The activities I did in adoption group didn’t mean nearly as much as simply being with other Asian kids with white parents. As for playing yut, making mandu, knowing how to write my name in hangul.. Some KADs just don’t give a damn about those things and I say it’s okay! Exploring my Korean heritage is turning out to be meaningful for me, but I’m only speaking for me. Adoptees, like anyone else, all find their own paths to fulfillment.
Maybe this sounds like a ‘duh’ question, but I like thinking about these types of questions because they can be so easily taken for granted. I pose this question because, through the blogosphere and various media, I have noticed many APs or future APs eager to integrate their child’s birth culture into the child’s life as much as possible. I’m neither agreeing nor disagreeing. I’m simply curious. What informs us that this is the ‘right’ thing to do? What is a parent’s best hope for their child in making that decision?
My mom started integrating Korea into my life seemingly from the start. We were attending a local adoption group before I was out of diapers. The group was open to any family with adopted children, but ended up largely composed of KADs. We had parties at holidays, celebrated the Lunar New Year and many of us went to culture camp together during the summers. For us kids, it was really just time to have fun with friends. Or, if I’m being very honest, it was time for us to all feel awkward together trying say words in Korean and do a fan dance. By the time I was in middle school, most of my ‘generation’ had dropped out of the group and I didn’t want to go anymore, but my mom kept dragging me until I was about 15. I think she had a harder time letting go of it than me. I really didn’t care anymore. A parent might see this adoption group as a positive thing, but from the adolescent’s perspective, I didn’t see the point (and I really didn’t enjoy how wearing hanboks further flattened my nonexistent chest). If my mom had shoved Korean culture down my throat every day, I think I would have become highly resentful.
Today I am very interested in my heritage, but when I look back, I have to wonder if my mom’s choices to keep me involved in the adoption community affected where I stand now. I’m not really sure that it does. I don’t think that integrating a child’s birth culture into their life is necessarily a predictor for how they will feel about that culture as an adult. And for those who don’t recognize their heritage, are they any worse off than someone like me? Does it matter? I know one other KAD who stayed in the adoption group as long as me and today she’s rather indifferent. She’s married with a family, teaching and comfortably settled in suburbia. She has a good life. Never been to Korea, no plans to go or search for birth family. Does she need some more Korea in her life? I know other KADs just doing their thing and I don’t see anything wrong with it. Maybe one day they will feel differently. Maybe they won’t. I think we have just as much a right to pursue our birth culture as we have a right not to.
At the end of the day, I think we’re all just trying to find some measure of acceptance. Of belonging. The activities I did in adoption group didn’t mean nearly as much as simply being with other Asian kids with white parents. As for playing yut, making mandu, knowing how to write my name in hangul.. Some KADs just don’t give a damn about those things and I say it’s okay! Exploring my Korean heritage is turning out to be meaningful for me, but I’m only speaking for me. Adoptees, like anyone else, all find their own paths to fulfillment.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Quick update!
Yeah, I don't have a substantial post tonight, but I wanted to give a few shoutouts to some KADs because they've got some neat stuff to say! First, there's Megan's blog Korean Wannabe which you can also find under my blog list. She's going to Korea soon! I am trying not to be jealous, but might or might not live vicariously through her experience. Yup. And then there are three wonderful articles on the Awl by Sarah Idzik. There are so many interesting individuals out there giving voice to our shared experience. Please check out these links if you get the chance!
Also, I just realized that there's a girl on Glee who is a KAD! Grad school has sadly left me a little out of the pop culture loop, but even I know that Glee is the hottest thing since sliced bread. (For those of you who are unfamiliar, Glee is undoubtedly one of the most popular television shows in the US following the lives of teenagers in their high school's show choir.) The actress I'm speaking of is Jenna Ushkowitz. If you watch a Youtube video of her, you'll inevitably see comments from viewers along the lines of "She has a weird last name for an Asian". Gotta love it. At any rate, I think she's quite talented and I'm excited to see her having such success. I always perk up when I see KADs/TRAs making it as public figures in some capacity. If only to remind people that we exist. In the societies we live in, we will never be considered the dominant or majority group. By our mere existence, we create confusion in some people and challenge them to re-think what it is to be of a certain background. We challenge expectations and stereotypes. When thought of in those words, who we are is pretty amazing.
Also, I just realized that there's a girl on Glee who is a KAD! Grad school has sadly left me a little out of the pop culture loop, but even I know that Glee is the hottest thing since sliced bread. (For those of you who are unfamiliar, Glee is undoubtedly one of the most popular television shows in the US following the lives of teenagers in their high school's show choir.) The actress I'm speaking of is Jenna Ushkowitz. If you watch a Youtube video of her, you'll inevitably see comments from viewers along the lines of "She has a weird last name for an Asian". Gotta love it. At any rate, I think she's quite talented and I'm excited to see her having such success. I always perk up when I see KADs/TRAs making it as public figures in some capacity. If only to remind people that we exist. In the societies we live in, we will never be considered the dominant or majority group. By our mere existence, we create confusion in some people and challenge them to re-think what it is to be of a certain background. We challenge expectations and stereotypes. When thought of in those words, who we are is pretty amazing.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Are you...?
As fate would have it, today presented me with the perfect introduction for this post. I’m currently back in the hometown for a 5-second Thanksgiving break. Because I have not eaten excessively enough this week (read: I have and I’m now wearing sweatpants, thank you very much), my mom and I decided that consuming a large quantity of spaghetti for lunch would be a good idea. We went to a local Italian place where we were immediately waited on by a girl of Asian descent. The moment she said her name, I couldn’t help but wonder if she was a KAD. It wasn’t just the name, but the context and local demographic factors that got me wondering. The only Asian American youth I knew growing up were other KADs. Well, lo and behold, after she took our drink orders she said, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but were you in an adoption group? I think I remember you two. My parents are [insert names here].” Really! I don’t honestly remember her or her family, but my mom did and it was just pleasantly surprising to run into a fellow KAD. I can’t plan these things, people! Come to think of it, this might be the first time something like this ever happened to me.
In my experience finding other KADs, aside from the ones I grew up with, is hard. It’s not like we go around wearing a sign identifying ourselves as such. There don’t seem to be any surefire signs that would lead you to make those assumptions. With the girl today, I wondered, but I don’t have some TRA sixth sense! My guess is as good as anyone else’s. I’m regularly on a campus with an enormous population of Asian students. There’s no way to quickly distinguish who’s an adoptee, who’s not, who’s an international student, who’s not. There could be a ton of KADs/TRAs at my school for all I know. In fact, I think it’s safe to say there have to be some floating around because my university is just that huge and the surrounding area diverse enough. If there are a handful of us kicking around the less diverse suburban community I grew up in, there surely have to be more in this bigger college city. Which is awesome..if I ever meet any of them!
Because that’s the challenge: connecting with others, at least in-person, and especially as an adult living in an area that does not have a known adoptee group. Of the few KADs that I do know personally, we don’t see each other often and none of them appear to have much of an interest in this aspect of their identity. There is absolutely no right or wrong way for an adoptee to feel. And I’m so thankful for the presence of these KAD friends in my life since childhood, even if we don’t talk adoptee stuff. The fact that I know them and that others are out there normalizes the experience so much. I feel as though being a KAD automatically makes me part of a large, if somewhat unspoken, community. I’m learning that I’m an adoptee who not only wants to, but needs to feel connected to that community.
In my experience finding other KADs, aside from the ones I grew up with, is hard. It’s not like we go around wearing a sign identifying ourselves as such. There don’t seem to be any surefire signs that would lead you to make those assumptions. With the girl today, I wondered, but I don’t have some TRA sixth sense! My guess is as good as anyone else’s. I’m regularly on a campus with an enormous population of Asian students. There’s no way to quickly distinguish who’s an adoptee, who’s not, who’s an international student, who’s not. There could be a ton of KADs/TRAs at my school for all I know. In fact, I think it’s safe to say there have to be some floating around because my university is just that huge and the surrounding area diverse enough. If there are a handful of us kicking around the less diverse suburban community I grew up in, there surely have to be more in this bigger college city. Which is awesome..if I ever meet any of them!
Because that’s the challenge: connecting with others, at least in-person, and especially as an adult living in an area that does not have a known adoptee group. Of the few KADs that I do know personally, we don’t see each other often and none of them appear to have much of an interest in this aspect of their identity. There is absolutely no right or wrong way for an adoptee to feel. And I’m so thankful for the presence of these KAD friends in my life since childhood, even if we don’t talk adoptee stuff. The fact that I know them and that others are out there normalizes the experience so much. I feel as though being a KAD automatically makes me part of a large, if somewhat unspoken, community. I’m learning that I’m an adoptee who not only wants to, but needs to feel connected to that community.
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