Struggles of Korean Adoptees

Here's a New York Times article about a new study coming out from the Evan B. Donaldson Adoption Institute about the struggles of Korean adoptees (I'll post the link to the study when I get it). There's not actually very much about the study in the article, but it's an interesting read in its own right:

As a child, Kim Eun Mi Young hated being different.

When her father brought home toys, a record and a picture book on South Korea, the country from which she was adopted in 1961, she ignored them.

Growing up in Georgia, Kansas and Hawaii, in a military family, she would date only white teenagers, even when Asian boys were around.

“At no time did I consider myself anything other than white,” said Ms. Young, 48, who lives in San Antonio. “I had no sense of any identity as a Korean woman. Dating an Asian man would have forced me to accept who I was.”

It was not until she was in her 30s that she began to explore her Korean heritage. One night, after going out to celebrate with her husband at the time, she says she broke down and began crying uncontrollably.

“I remember sitting there thinking, where is my mother? Why did she leave me? Why couldn’t she struggle to keep me?” she said. “That was the beginning of my journey to find out who I am.”

The experiences of Ms. Young are common among adopted children from Korea, according to one of the largest studies of transracial adoptions, which is to be released on Monday. The report, which focuses on the first generation of children adopted from South Korea, found that 78 percent of those who responded had considered themselves to be white or had wanted to be white when they were children. Sixty percent indicated their racial identity had become important by the time they were in middle school, and, as adults, nearly 61 percent said they had traveled to Korea both to learn more about the culture and to find their birth parents.

What will I . . .

. . . look like when I'm all grown up?

Zoe and Maya have each gone through stages where they're fascinated with, um, uh, my chestal area. You know, breasts. How many times have you been with your kids and suddenly you look down and there are two little hands right . . . THERE?! For a while there, I didn't think Zoe would ever potty-train, because when I asked her if she wanted to wear big girl panties like Mama, she asked, "And a BRA?!" It seemed there'd be no pottying in our house unless she had a matching set of lingerie!

The girls have often asked whether they'll have "breasts like Mama's" (I admit, I'm not sure if there's a tinge of envy or horror in the question -- though I am well-endowed, gravity has not been kind!). It's not just breasts, of course. It's looking at me, and wondering what their aging bodies will do. The difficulty of answering that question for adopted children struck me twice in two days this past week.

First, thanks to Facebook friends, I was reading a great story about a local all-Chinese-adoptee Girl Scout Troop:

[The Daisies] lined up eagerly beside the stairs to hear Mei Lin Saunders, a 15-year-old Girl Scout cadet from Carrollton, who had brought her old Brownie and Girl Scout vests festooned with pins and badges to show them how they, too, can progress through the ranks.

"What do you all have in common with Mei Lin?" Daisy Troop leader and mom Kimberly Powell asked the nearly two dozen girls. . . . "We're all Girl Scouts!" chirped one little voice, with the others murmuring agreement. The parents chuckled softly.

"Yes, and you're all adopted from China," Powell continued. This time the girls murmured "Ahh" and looked up at Mei Lin, who usually goes by the name Jamie, all the more intently. . . . They stared as if they couldn't get enough of her.

Mei Lin's mother, Susan Saunders, nodded, understanding what was going through all those little heads, as she looked proudly at her daughter. "They want to see what they will look like when they are grown up," whispered Saunders, watching from the kitchen.

And then I ran across this post at The Queen of Denial, thanks to Tonggu Mama's Sunday Linkage:

No one ever really talks about how adoption screws with your future. I mostly talk about how my past was affected by being surrendered. Or if I do talk about the future, it’s to wonder about medical history and genetic stuff. But lately, as I’ve thought a lot about aging, I realized there are a lot of things I’m missing from my view of the future such as something as simple as knowing more than one generation of your DNA. And that is something I think far too many people take for granted.

You see a lot of yourself in your family. Where you came from, where you are, and where you will be. I know where I am, and a good chunk of where I came from, but there are no clues laid out for me as to where I might be headed in the future. Most people look at their parents, their grandparents, and can see patterns of aging. It’s not an exact science. It’s kind of a look into the future. It may not be exact, but it’s a glimpse, a preview.

As of today I’m twenty two years and some odd months old. I’m still young, still in my prime years. I don’t have wrinkles and my energy levels are high and my hips still slimmed by a fast metabolism. I don’t know what the future of my body, my face, my skin, bring. I watch my adoptive parents as they are getting older and wonder a lot about my natural family. I wonder if they’re young still or if they are getting closer to being senior citizens. I wonder if my mom has wrinkles or if her skin is still taut. If she is still healthy or if she has developed a disease. The kind of things I really need to know about my future, I can only get from her. She is really the missing link I need to chain my past and future to the present.

While it doesn't replace actual contact with and information about birth families, this is a place where adult role models of Asian heritage can be important. If you needed yet another reason to make sure your children know Asians of all ages, this is it. How else will my girls figure out that they're not likely -- for good or ill -- to have breasts like Mama's?!

Eyes Wide Open: Reactions

Wow, the interest in the article about the white father who required his adopted Asian daughter to undergo medically unnecessary surgery to "Westernize" her eyes has brought lots of reactions -- universally horrified reactions, I'm pleased to say.

On Twitter, for example, lots of re-tweets to get the word out, prefaced by lots of "WTF?" and "OMG" comments:

WTF...?? RT @ulb: OMG @adoptiontalk Surgery to Westernize the eyes of an adoptedAsian child: http://twurl.nl/moynka #adoption #race #racism

On Facebook, someone (I have no idea who, but I do know that Wendy also posted it, and I am appreciative!) posted it last night and brought in over 100 hits in one hour.

And these two bloggers have posted their reactions (and be sure to read the interesting comments at their blogs):

At American Family, an important point -- that we make choices for our children every day that can cut them off from their identity as effectively as a scalpel can:

We all know those parents who say “I am not going to make my child learn Chinese now, when they are old enough they can make that decision on their own;” or “She can move to a city/neighborhood with more Asians when she grows up if that is important to her;” or any of the 10,o00 variations on that theme, how is that really so very different?

Let’s not kid ourselves here, choosing to learn Chinese/travel to China/participate in Asian American activities/be a member of the Asian American community when your parents have never prioritized your Chineseness might feel like you are making an obvious choice to reject your parents’ culture/parenting/community etc. It might be too hard or too late or too awkward to comfortably make that decision by the time you are an adult.

As a matter of fact, who can say how late is too late? My kids arealready thinking about this stuff now at ages 3 and 6.

It isn’t just a scalpel that can do that kind of damage to our children’s identity. The choices we make as parents — as WHITE parents who adopted Children of Color — that are impacting our child’s ability to make their own choices about his or her identity. Every minute of every day.

And from an adult adoptee at Pound Puppy Legacy, after noting a feeling of hope that even adoptive parents are talking about this case with horror, an understandibly angry reaction in An Eye-Opening Look at the Power of an AP:

When I was a sophomore in high school, my Amother told me my birthday gift was going to take care of a problem. In my case, my "problem" was my nose. According to my Amother, it was too big... too ethnic. It had to be fixed. I had to be fixed. If I got fixed, more people would like me. If I got my face fixed, everything would be perfect.

As my stupid luck would have it, the plastic surgeon she chose for me was old (close to death/retirement) and not that great. As a result of that surgery, I have these annoying nodules I'd like to have removed, but won't because it's not anything I can afford to do... and quite honestly, I wouldn't want a plastic surgeons nose, anyway. My annoying nodules give me "character"... a quality many seem to like, once they get to know me. [Anyone see the irony in that statement?]

I shared the link to my blog post with the colleague (who, btw, is not a member of the adoption triad) who first told me about the article, and this is what she had to say:

I read the comments and appreciate the concerns raised by the adoptive parents. This article was one of several originally published in the Hastings Center Report about parents consenting to medically unnecessary cosmetic procedures for their children. Some countries are considering banning such surgeries in persons under 18. While I think the westernizing of children’s eyes is particularly repugnant, the whole idea of parents seeking out cosmetic surgery to make their children “better” than “normal” bothers me greatly.

I'm pleased that there are others who want to keep the conversation going. This issue is, of course, larger than this child and larger than unnecessary surgery, as appalling as that is. It's about the importance of identity, and what adoptive parents can and should do -- and should not do -- to foster positive racial identity in their children. And it's about adoption generally, and the absolute NEED for adoptive parents to unconditionally love and accept their children EXACTLY AS THEY ARE.

A Cautionary Tale for Adoptive Parents

The story of a search for identity, about Nisha, adopted as an infant from India, now 26 years old and going back to India to search for her birth mother -- a must-read for adoptive parents and prospective adoptive parents who think the "same-as" narrative works, that all one need do is raise an adoptive child the same as a child born to you.

For adoptive parents who think “culture-keeping/heritage-teaching” isn’t worth the trouble:

“It used to be, regardless of their original culture or their skin colour, this child is truly yours,” says Kate Emery, the senior India programme coordinator for adoption agency MAPS Worldwide. But now, Nisha’s generation, adopted in the 1980s and 1990s, feels this was a mistake. “They need to know their culture,” says Emery.

It’s a thought that never occurred to Nisha’s parents. “I didn’t know any Indian people,” her father says. “And I guess I probably wouldn’t have known how to approach them even if I did. Would I say, ‘You know, my daughter’s Indian. Would you mind if she hangs out with you?’”

Though she didn’t realize it as a child, it bothered Nisha when she grew up and realized she had never been exposed to her own culture. She resented her parents for never trying to teach her about where she came from. The resentment bore down on her and when it was time to pick a college four years ago, she moved miles away from her family in Sacramento to San Diego. When she finally told her parents how she felt two years ago, they were shocked, unaware of how much pain the adoption had caused her.

. . . for adoptive parents who think color-blind works, that race doesn’t matter to their child, that knowing other "brown girls" isn't important:

Nisha, now a petite 26-year-old with a quick smile, was adopted from Goa by an all-white family at the age of six months and raised in “the white part of America”, as her father Randy puts it. The couple never taught Nisha anything about her birth country or culture, though they did retain her name and abided by one request the birth mother had made: never to cut Nisha’s hair. She didn’t cut it until she went to college. Stephanie says she figured “everyone would love each other” and that would be enough for Nisha to adjust to her adopted life in the US.

It wasn’t, though. . . . When she started searching for her own identity, as all young adults do, she struggled more than most. In her adoptive family she saw no answers, no history, not even a common physical appearance. Was she Indian or American? What tied her family together? What did it mean that she looked so different from her mother and sister and father? The questions left Nisha full of doubts about who she is and where she fits into the world around her. And, in her search to find herself, she pushed away the family that has so much to do with who she is.

* * *

When Nisha was 11, her family moved to a new neighbourhood in Sacramento. On her first day at gym, another student, Reena Ray, spotted her from across the room. “I remember seeing this girl,” Ray says, “and she was the darkest, littlest thing in the room, but she was wearing this T-shirt with strawberries on it and matching socks. And then out of her mouth comes the biggest valley girl voice ever.”

Nisha, who still has that distinct Californian accent, says she was instantly attracted to Ray—another small, dark-skinned girl. . . . Ray’s elder sister, Sharmila, became close to Nisha as well. The girls formed a multicultural group of friends. And suddenly, Nisha’s family — her mother, father and sister — felt left out and different. Randa [Nisha’s sister, biological child of her adoptive parents] says Nisha created her own family. She kept waiting for Nisha to come back to their family, but Nisha never did.

. . . for adoptive parents who don’t want to talk about birth family, who believe their children don’t think about birth family:

But Nisha still feels alone; missing a mother she could only imagine all her life, from bits she picked up from her parents’ stories. One particular thing Nisha clings to, a reason she thinks her birth mother would want to be found, is a letter that arrived at the Grayson home on Nisha’s first birthday. “My darling Nisha baby, I will always love you,” it began.

“From time to time over the years, I would find the card around the house, and I would know Nisha had been looking at it,” says Stephanie, who speaks with the wrenching love of a mother who can no longer protect her child from pain. She also speaks with the pain of knowing that no matter how good the intention, she caused some of that hurt. She tells me that Nisha’s birth mother lived at the orphanage before the birth and stayed with Nisha for some time after she was born.

When I ask Nisha about this story over coffee a few days later, she starts crying. “I never knew that!” she says. “Just the thought that she stayed, that she did really care for me, that it was hard for her, means a lot. I know she wouldn’t have done it if she didn’t have to, which is why I don’t hate her for it. But to think that she stayed. . . .”

* * *

She has got her mother’s name tattooed across her hip. “I want it to be a homage,” she says. And, perhaps, in a way, it’s a recognition that even if she never does find her birth mother, she can still answer the question of who she is herself.

Click here to read the whole thing.

This is in no way an indictment of Nisha's parents, who didn't have the advantage we do now of having heard from adult international/transracial adoptees about how these missing things affected them. We have no excuses.

Nor am I suggesting that if we only "do the right things" our children won't feel loss, grief, pain, that our children won't distance themselves from us in their search for identity, that we have somehow "failed" if our children search for birth family. I'm only suggesting that as adoptive parents we can help or we can hinder when our children search for identity, deal with adoption loss, grief, and pain, look for connections to birth family and birth culture/heritage. It is their search, their journey. But we shouldn't be the road blocks.

"China Doll"

I suspect we've all heard it -- someone "complimenting" our child by saying she looks just like a "China doll." We've all certainly read the China-adoptive parent discussion lists where APs describe their own children as China dolls. I've always hated the expression -- it's objectifying, stereotyping, and for adult women, infantalizing. Jha'Meia at Rebellious Jezebel Blogging, reacts to the phrase as applied to photos of her:

The term “China doll” unsettles me. It unsettles me because I’ve met people who coo and squee over Asian girls because “they are so cute”. I have trouble with the term because it ties into the whole “submissive Asian” trope. It bothers me because I am Chinese, and the term “China doll”, which could characterize all Chinese women who fit a certain physical look, effectively strips us of our agency in the eyes of others, rendering us, well, dolls.

I took a hard look at that set of pictures. I also thought back to other times I wore similar makeup. I generally avoid heavy makeup for this reason: looking like a China
doll. But even as I was avoiding the “China Doll” look, I neglected to ask what the hell, exactly, a “China doll” looks like.

Then I realized, no matter what makeup I wear, I will always look like a “China doll” to someone. I can’t help that – I’m Chinese! I can’t dictate that everyone think of me as a normal human being – there’s no way I can police that. I can’t help it that some people don’t think women should be wearing such striking makeup to begin with. I can’t help it that people stereotype Asians.

Like many other things, the term “China doll” refers to a construct, an idea of what something should be like. A China doll will look like what the viewer wants her to look like. She can range from simply being an Asian woman, to being a fetishly hyper-sexualized submissive. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that this is a stereotype, and one damaging to Asian women.

So how do you respond when someone tells you your child is a China doll? Have you explained the phrase to your child? How does your child feel about it? Any suggested responses for parents to make to people who are probably just being kind, but may need a little education? Any suggested responses for children to make when told they're a little China doll?

Radio Links

From NPR's Tell Me More, 'Oriental': Rugs, Not People:

It's an adjective that used to describe rugs, not people. That's the message New York Gov. David Paterson turned into law this week when he signed a bill that bans state documents from using the term "oriental" when referring to people of Asian or Pacific heritage. Jeff Yang, an Asian Pop columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle, discusses the history of the loaded term and why so many Asian-Americans find it offensive.

Also from Tell Me More, Daniel Liu Redefines The Male Supermodel:

Daniel Liu comes across as the typical guy next door — unless you happen to live next door to a supermodel who walks the fashion runways of New York. At age 26, Liu is already a rising star among models, and one of the few Asian-American males making headlines in the industry. Liu talks about his budding career. [That's his picture up there, of course!]

From NPR's The Takeaway, Dissolving an Adoption:

It’s Monday, when we talk about family issues on The Takeaway. Takeaway contributor Lisa Belkin, who writes the parenting blog Motherlode for The New York Times, is here to talk with us about what happens when parents make the decision to dissolve an adoption.

We also talk wtih Anita Tedaldi about this painful process. Tedaldi wrote an essay for Motherlode about her very personal experience of terminating an adoption. She had adopted a baby from an undisclosed country and after months of raising the baby, decided that she and her husband were not equipped to take care of him.

"A little Beyonce"

I got my hair cut the other day, and a little girl was also having her hair done. She was African-American, a real cutie, around 4 years old. We were on opposite sides of the salon and were flirting with each other in the mirrors. She was there with her white mother, and it turns out she was adopted.

A couple of things struck me. First, the little girl was having her hair ironed straight, and her mom kept saying to her, "Don't you just love it when your hair is straight?" Hmmmm.

Second thing, the (white) stylist working on her hair kept telling her she looked "just like a little Beyonce!" Then came the stereotypical comments, "I bet you're a great dancer, just like Beyonce, right?" And when the little girl finally climbed out of the chair, "Show me a little dance!" No comment from mom.

Nothing to complain about here, right? Who could complain when her child is compared to Beyonce -- after all, Beyonce is gorgeous!

But that little scenario illustrated for me how stereotypes are reinforced, how limitations on what and who you should be are determined and conveyed based on your race. How insidious these reinforcements are. How pervasive these racial microaggressions are. When it starts when you're 4 years old -- before you're 4 years old -- how do you resist? And when it comes from your own family, how do you survive with a positive racial identity intact?

Maya, Kindergartner

My baby is BIG! We went to Kinder orientation this afternoon (she had to show up in uniform, which she LOVED!), and she officially starts school tomorrow. We went to 12:30 Mass before the orientation, Maya in uniform, and she walked so tall, and was on her best Kindergartner behavior -- no wiggling, no talking, no sitting on Mama's lap (apparently Kindergartners don't DO that!).

We're thrilled with the teacher she has (not the same one Zoe had, who asked at each parent-teacher conference if I worried about fetal alcohol syndrome (WTF?!), and opined that her single daughter's eggs were going to get too old before she had babies, and she'd just "have to" adopt). Ms. C. has a reputation as a great teacher, and she's African-American to boot. I think that's especially good for Maya, who doesn't like to be Chinese because it's "different." Ms. C. is the only African-American teacher in the building -- she can show Maya a thing or two about being "different!"

Speaking of White Privilege. . .

In Peggy McIntosh's groundbreaking article, she lists 46 things as the daily effect of white privilege in her life. It would be too long to list all 45, but here are some, pretty much chosen at random, for a taste:

1. I can, if I wish, arrange to be in the company of people of my race most of the time.

3. If I should need to move, I can be pretty sure of renting or purchasing housing in an area which I can afford and in which I would want to live.

5. I can go shopping alone most of the time, fairly well assured that I will not be followed or harassed by store detectives.

6. I can turn on the television or open to the front page of the paper and see people of my race widely and positively represented.

7. When I am told about our national heritage or about “civilization,” I am shown that people of my color made it what it is.

12. 1 can go into a book shop and count on finding the writing of my race represented, into a supermarket and find the staple foods that fit with my cultural traditions, into a hairdresser’s shop and find someone who can deal with my hair.

13. Whether I use checks, credit cards, or cash, I can count on my skin color not to work against the appearance that I am financially reliable.

15. I did not have to educate our children to be aware of systemic racism for their own daily physical protection.

16. I can be pretty sure that my children’s teachers and employers will tolerate them if they fit school and workplace norms; my chief worries about them do not concern others’ attitudes toward their race.

17. I can talk with my mouth full and not have people put this down to my color.

19. I can speak in public to a powerful male group without putting my race on trial.

20. I can do well in a challenging situation without being called a credit to my race.

21. I am never asked to speak for all the people of my racial group.

24. I can be reasonably sure that if I ask to talk to “the person in charge,” I will be facing a person of my race.

25. If a traffic cop pulls me over or if the IRS audits my tax return, I can be sure I haven’t been singled out because of my race.

26. I can easily buy posters, postcards, picture books, greeting cards, dolls, toys, and children’s magazines featuring people of my race.

27. I can go home from most meetings of organizations I belong to feeling somewhat tied in, rather than isolated, out of place, outnumbered, unheard, held at a distance, or feared.

33. I am not made acutely aware that my shape, bearing, or body odor will be taken as a reflection on my race.

34. I can worry about racism without being seen as self-interested or self-seeking.

39. I can be late to a meeting without having the lateness reflect on my race.

40. I can choose public accommodation without fearing that people of my race cannot get in or will be mistreated in the places I have chosen.

41. I can be sure that if I need legal or medical help, my race will not work against me.

43. If I have low credibility as a leader, I can be sure that my race is not the problem.

46. I can choose blemish cover or bandages in “flesh” color and have them more or less match my skin.

Do you see white privilege at work in your life? Do you see how that might be different for your children? It starts with that first one -- arranging to be in the company of people of their own race most of the time. For most of them, most of the time, that isn't possible, is it? And some of that rubs off on us, as parents. #15, not having to teach our children about systemic racism, doesn't apply to us. Does that feel like the loss of a privilege we're entitled to?

Discuss, please!

Too much culture?

OK, this video is funny! Do you think it's deliberate that the white family doing Korean is mixing it up with Japanese and Chinese and who knows what-all fungible-Asian stereotypes? Or do you think the writers don't have a clue either?!

And it's also a good pair with this article, What's My Heritage? International Adoptions and the Culture Debate, from Brain,Child:

For an English speaker, “win” approximates Nguyen, one of the most common yet
elusive of Vietnamese names. Maybe Nick thinks we’ve cracked a secret code. He
told me recently that Nguyen Thanh Hiep is his true name.

At these moments, I’m sure my husband Rob and I are doing something right. Like many international-adoptive parents, we work hard to incorporate our son’s birth culture into our lives. For years, we’ve followed the formula for what’s sometimes called “culture keeping”: celebrating the main holidays from Nick’s birth culture; buying ethnic artwork, clothing, or food; spending time with other international adoptive families, perhaps going to a “culture camp” for a few days each summer.

Some would say I take it to extremes. I enrolled in a Vietnamese language class the year before Nick’s adoption in 2002. Last fall, I signed up for another course that meets five days a week. At the same time, I found a Vietnamese tutor for Nick.

In December, Rob and I took Nick on a trip to Vietnam, his first visit back to his birth country. But just weeks before we left, we found ourselves with a child melting down, who was terrified we’d leave him there, afraid we’d be disappointed if he didn’t like it. “I don’t want to go to Vietnam!” he howled. “I don’t want to go to Vietnam! I…don’t…want…to…go…to Vi-et-nam!”

It was then that I thought maybe I’d gone too far. Was I doing this more for myself than for Nick?

I know the caveats. He was too young; it’s normal for a first grader to be contrary. All true, and he often infuriated me in Vietnam. I was proud when he told people his name in Vietnamese, but I never felt at ease. We were on public display more than in any American hospital hallway. I worried for my boy when saleswomen fussed over the long rattail in his hair, fingering it, saying he was “lucky.” I kept wanting to hug his tense little face against my chest.

Since our trip, I’ve talked to people inside the adoption community and out: other parents, adoptees, social scientists, Vietnamese Americans. Going overboard can be worse than doing nothing at all, so I wonder and fret: How much should I push cultural activities onto my son? How much of his birth culture is it healthy for him to keep as he grows—and how much is confusing or harmful, a kitschy pastiche that will leave him permanently unmoored?

Can you say "balance," anyone?!

"All the Brown Girls"

The image of that girl, in awe at seeing "all the brown girls" just like her at camp, sticks in my head. As Sue wisely put it in the comments:

I really think that camp is mostly about hanging out with a LOT of kids who are there due to similar circumstances and heritage. My girls didn't learn a whole lot new about Chinese culture, because they attend Chinese school and learned similar things there. Some of the new things they can't remember (like new songs, words, etc.) But what they don't articulate, but I really think they feel at some level, is that this is the one place where they are among a LOT of kids who are like them... born in one culture and raised in another. Which, in a way is a culture in an of itself.

Maya clearly feels that sense of belonging, of sameness. I posted the first part of this video already, and noted how surprised I was that at age 5 Maya could already realize that being Chinese in an Anglo world felt "different." In the second half, she tries to articulate the feeling of being in a place where she is one of 238Chinese girls under one roof.



And again, let me say, I LOVE my Flip! Maya usually won't talk to me about hard issues (not like Zoe will!), but she'll talk to the camera about them. . . .

Adult Adoptee Panel

Looking around the room at the adult adoptee panel discussion, I'd say it was easily the best-attended of the adult sessions. It was good to see so many adoptive parents wanting to learn.

As I mentioned before the panel consisted of 3 sisters from the same family, and they also had 3 brothers. There were two sets of sibling groups of two among the six. Five of the six were adopted from Korea, and the sixth was half Asian, half Hispanic, and a domestic adoptee. They all grew up in Tulsa, OK.

All three who spoke to us were in their 30s, beautiful, well-spoken, and seemed very happy and successful.

The domestic adoptee said she had had non-identifying information about her birth family for as long as she could remember, and she wasn't at all interested in finding out who her birth parents were. Some of that reluctance came from the circumstances -- her birth father was 55 and her birth mother 16, and worked for him. The one who was adopted from Korea at age 5 also had a brother adopted with her at 9 months of age. She said she had always wanted to find her birth parents, and was successful in doing so. She said she felt like there was an empty space inside her until she returned to Korea and met her birth family.

The third, adopted from Korea at 18 months old, said she had no information since she was found abandoned at a police station with no identifying information. She said she had no interest at all in finding her birth family, but said maybe that was because she knew it would be impossible to do so. [Afterwards, I mentioned to her that many Korean adoptees were given that same story of abandonment but then found that the adoption agency had made it up "to protect the unwed mother." I suggested that if she was interested she might contact the adoption agency. . . .] Though she said she wasn't really interested in her birth parents, because her adoptive mom and dad were her "mom and dad," she said it was really meaningful for her to have children who were biologically related to her -- it was the first time she saw someone who looked like her.

Two of the three said that they had experienced racial teasing as children -- the eye-pulling gesture and ching-chong speech. They didn't tell their parents about it. One said that such teasing made them stronger. Of the six siblings who are married, they are all married to Caucasian spouses. The sister who had actually traveled to Korea talked about feeling more comfortable with Caucasians, and feeling out of place in groups of Koreans. Another sister said she considered herself an Okie (not a derogatory term when used by an Oklahoman, I understand!) and a proud American.

One adoptive parent asked what their favorite foods were (?), and all answered with American favorites like Mom's Spaghetti and PB & banana sandwiches. The sister who had traveled to Korea said Korean foods were her favorite

They all said that their parents had offered cultural opportunities, and that their parents had always been supportive of any interest they had in searching for birth parents. Their parents had shared with them the information they had about their life before adoption. All praised their parents for what a good job they had done raising them. And all said they felt blessed to have been adopted.

I think that adoptive parents who were looking to ignore anything negative they had heard from adopted adults were pretty satisfied by the presentation. There were, however, some troubling things: the fact that they didn't tell their parents about racial teasing and their discomfort in being among Koreans, for example. This is pretty typical for Korean adoptees of that era, I think. Adoptive parents were told to raise them as [white] Americans, so many have not formed any racial identity that matches their ethnicity. I hope that my kids can feel comfortable in both cultures, though that is going to be a tall order, and probably not completely doable, Still, we'll try!

I also thought it was telling that the sister who expressed no interest in meeting biological relatives nonetheless expressed wonder at seeing her children for the first time. Perhaps she is more interested than she thinks!

The women were so gracious to come talk to us, and I learned a lot hearing about their experiences and attitudes. We always say that adoptees have a variety of attitudes toward adoption, that no one can claim to speak for all adoptees, and we had the perfect illustration of that fact in these three sisters.

Adoption Voices: Adoptive Parents for Open Records

Have you heard of Adoption Voices, the social network for adoption? It's kind of like Facebook, but all adoption, all the time. There are groups and blogs and forums and who knows what all -- I just found out about it, so haven't really explored.

Margie of Third Mom and Komapseumnida (I told Margie that every time I see the name of her new blog I think of Mae West ("Come up and see me sometime!"), though I have no idea how it's actually pronounced in Korean!) has started a group at Adoption Voices: Adoptive Parents for Open Records. If you believe as I do, and as Margie does, that "an adopted person's right to their original birth certificate. . . . is a human and civil right," then please join the group.

Adult Asian Adoptee Researches Identity Issues

In this article about a Korean adoptee's research, it quotes her as saying that adoptees identify as adoptees before they identify as belonging to any racial or ethnic group. Interesting.

It took an identity crisis for Joy Hoffman to fully realize she’s Korean.

Hoffman, a graduate student at California Lutheran University in Thousand Oaks, was adopted by white, conservative, Lutheran parents as a baby and grew up in Orange County, immersed in white culture. It wasn’t until she was in her 30s that she came to terms with her Korean identity.

Now Hoffman has taken that identity crisis and turned it into research studying how Asians like her, adopted by white parents, form their ethnic identity.

“I can be open about my adoptee identity, but not always about my Asian, even within my own family,” said Hoffman, 41, who also works as director of the Cultural Center at Whittier College. “It’s been kind of fun to do the research but also hard.”

* * *

Based on those interviews [with 3 Asian adoptees (is that possibly a typo? she only interviewed 3?)], she found that adopted Asians fare better if their white parents encourage them to explore their ethnicity, rather than ignore it in an effort to be colorblind. She also found that adopted children identify themselves as adoptees before any ethnic identity.

“There’s this sense of loss. You have to understand someone gave you up,” she said. “I was left in a police station. I probably will never find my birth parents. My daughter and my son are my first biological connection.”

Because so many people figure out who they are in college, Hoffman’s research also offers recommendations on how colleges can help Asian students adopted by white parents.

Her recommendations include encouraging adoptees to join Asian student organizations and study abroad in Asia. She also suggests counselors be trained to understand the unique circumstances of Asian adoptees. In addition, schools should connect students with Asian faculty and staff members who can serve as mentors, she said.

Shane Carlin, a Korean-American who was adopted by white parents and raised in Kentucky, agrees those measures could help students. But he also warns that Asian-American organizations need to be sensitive to newcomers, embracing them and not being judgmental. If they suggest that people are truly Korean only if they speak the language or know the culture, they can unwittingly alienate adoptees who grew up in white households, he said. That’s because Asian adoptees live in two worlds, he said.

Read the whole thing -- Hoffman discusses her personal struggle in forming a racial identity.

On Being Different

I threw this question, "How does it feel to be Chinese," at Maya after she sang me some Chinese songs. I was sort of expecting a noncommital "OK," instead of "Different."

Maya's preschool class was pretty diverse -- 13 kids in the class, with one African-American, one Hispanic, one Lebanese, one Chinese. And Maya realized she was the only Chinese. And that made her different.

Dark Knees

Zoe has refused to wear short shorts all summer, and idiot that I am, I couldn't figure out why. I thought it was a modesty thing, maybe a product of Catholic school, since I connected it to her perpetual concern during the school year that her uniform jumpers were too short. I've asked her why, but she wouldn't give me an answer -- my fault, since I probably asked quite impatiently as she asked for a different jumper in the morning just as we needed to leave for school.

Yesterday she put on a summer dress that is designed to be longer in the back and shorter in the front. I kept seeing her tugging on it, to get it to cover her knees in front, and a little bell rang in my head. "Zoe," I asked, "are you worried about showing your knees for some reason?" Yep, nailed it. She said she doesn't want to show her knees because they are darker than the rest of her skin, so "they look dirty and ugly."

Whew. That one has been stewing for months, and I didn't see it. I admit, I'm always telling her to scrub her knees in the bathtub, but I've been thinking exfoliation, and she's been thinking "dirty." We've talked about moisturizers before, especially in the winter, and have moisturized her knees, though not with any consistency.

I explained to her that people's skin is thicker at the knees (and elbows), so there is more skin pigment there, but knowing WHY her knees are darker doesn't help much, especially since neither Maya nor I have knees that are appreciably darker than the rest of our skin. But we pulled out a bottle of good moisturizer for her to keep by her bed -- she wants to use it morning and night. She was happy when she rubbed it on, because her knees looked smoother if not lighter.

After the kids were in bed, I typed into Google, "asian skin dark knees," seeing if there were some other suggestions. I kept running across questions in online forums like this one: "I am an Asian with pale yellow skin color. But the nape, elbows and my knees are dark so it's difficult for me to wear short dresses and shorts in summer. . . . It's very embarrassing. Can anyone suggest me anything?" An online dermatologist answers a similar question with a suggestion about a skin-lightening lotion. And then I found THIS forum, where people are suggesting the use of household bleach and Brillo pads. And others are saying, "I'm going to try it!" How disturbing is that?

Any talk about skin bleaching or skin whitening makes my skin crawl. I think about Michael Jackson, for one thing! And it throws me back to Zoe's little 3-year-old voice saying, as we stood in line at the grocery store, "I wish my skin was light." Wow, that was much younger than I expected a racial identity crisis!

I struggled with an answer then, not wanting to minimize her concern with tempting responses like, "Skin color doesn't matter," since it so obviously mattered to her. Or by suggesting that she was far lighter than other people, because that seemed to reinforce the idea that light skin was, indeed, better. I settled then on asking her why (so she'd look like her friend, Charlie), and telling her I loved her skin. And then signing her up for Chinese School and applying to teach in China, where she could see lots and lots of people with her same beautiful skin tone (0ver-react much?!).

Now at 8, Zoe's talking about only one part of her skin she wishes was lighter -- is this different? An improvement? Maybe so, since she's saying she wants her knees to be the same honey-gold color as the rest of her skin. After all, light-skinned people have that same desire -- I'm always looking for products to make the red blotches on my face fade away, become undetectable against my fair skin.

But with an Asian child, a minority in this country, the meaning of skin color is different, racially charged, part of racial identity formation. We fight daily against all the explicit and implicit messages that lighter is better (Remember the Barbie-like Mulan doll? Zoe was excited when she got one: "Look! Her hair is black like mine. But her skin is light.")

I preached exfoliation and moisturizing. I think I'm preaching about skin being better, not lighter, in the same way I'd have no qualms offering my teens acne remedies if needed. But it's a fine line, isn't it? I think my former attempts have sent her a different message, that her knees are "dirty." That dark is "ugly."

Today we had more of a discussion than we could when she was 3 (it's not like we haven't talked skin color since then, but this is the first time since where I remember her despairing about her skin color). I said I didn't know if the moisturizer would make her knees lighter, but I thought they'd look better. And just like when she was 3, I said, "I love your skin." I said, "I love your knees!" And Zoe giggled as I kissed them.

I want my kids to be comfortable in the skin they're in, as the commercial goes. But it's a continual struggle to help them get there.

Russell is Korean!

Harlow's Monkey reports that Russell in the movie Up (whom I blogged about here) is not just "Asian" anymore! He was modeled after an ethnically Korean Pixar employee.

Interesting recent news links

Internationally adopted children at risk for premature puberty

In recent years, studies have shown that internationally adopted children may be at risk for developing premature or precocious puberty. In fact, some experts speculate that they are almost 20 times more likely to do so than children born in the United States.

N. Korean women 'sold like livestock' in China

For North Korean women who run off to China, rules are rigged on both sides of the border. North Korea regards them as criminals for leaving. China refuses to recognize them as refugees, sending many back to face interrogation, hard labor and sometimes torture. Others stay on in stateless limbo, sold by brokers to Chinese men in need of fertile women and live-in labor.

What does it mean to be Asian American?

It's easy to forget that the term "Asian American" is a young one -- just a hair over 40 years old, with its first recorded public usage occurring, not coincidentally, at UC Berkeley, the gravitational center of Sixties student activism. . . . Four decades later, however, it's worth considering how far the idea of Asian America has come, and how far it can go. Does Asian American identity still have meaning?

These boys deserve so much more than I can give them

Six years after adopting two boys, Michelle Brau was still unable to form a bond with them. Now they're in a new home. She may have suffered a condition many still don't understand: post-adoption depression.

Gratuitous Diversity

Gratuitous nudity and violence in movies is a bad thing -- it doesn't advance the plot, it isn't integral to the story, it is nudity and violence for its own sake.

But gratuitous diversity? I LOOOOVE it! We just saw the movie Up, and there are two main characters -- a crotchety old man and Russell, an Asian boy. AND ABSOLUTELY NO MENTION is made of the fact that he is Asian. He could be any race and the movie would not change one iota. He isn't in the movie to be the Asian representative in a group of kids a la United Colors of Benetton. He is not stereotypically Asian -- NO GLASSES! NO BUCK TEETH! He's a Boy Scout, not a computer geek. He's chubby, not a stringbean with high-water pants! (OK, I'm going to wear out my exclamation point key here!!!!!). He's voiced by an Asian American kid, Jordan Nagai, but he doesn't "sound" Asian! No pidgen English, no Charlie-Chan accent. He just happens to be a kid. Who happens to be Asian. In a Disney movie.

Wow. This is main-streaming at it's best.

Culture, Heritage, and Stereotyping

From Adoptive Families Magazine, a simple explanation of the difference between culture and heritage, and how they are linked to stereotyping:

Culture is what tells you how to live your life. Culture defines what you expect to eat for breakfast, how you address your boss or your teacher, how close to stand to your friends, how to sit in a chair. Culture involves values. Culture tells you whether your family or your job is more important, who would be a good choice for a marriage partner, and how much skin you can decently expose at the swimming pool.

You learn culture by living it.

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Heritage is what belongs to you by virtue of your birth. Heritage includes your genetic background, physical features, and ethnic origin; it includes the history of the people who share those features with you. Heritage consists only of facts, but one's culture may place more or less value on those facts. Whether or not you know or care anything about your heritage, it belongs to you.

Classifying a person solely by heritage is what we call stereotyping. For example, when meeting a Japanese person, there is an almost irresistible urge to assign to that person the characteristics we perceive as "Japanese," such as obedience, industry, interest in computers, and lack of humor. However, if that Japanese person was born and raised in Iowa, he or she might be a lot more interested in corn farming and Saturday Night Live than in electronics or raw fish. Stereotyping unfairly assigns a person a culture based on his or her heritage alone.

The article also discusses why it is important for adoptive parents to teach their children about their heritage -- if we don't someone else will, and it's likely to be based in stereotyping rather than truth.