18!

We blinked and Mateo is 18. Happy birthday to our beautiful, smart, funny, original son. xoxo

Opinion piece by second generation Korean adoptee

A friend sent me this opinion piece from the Korea Times, “The second generation: A story of Korean adoptees’ child,” written by Bastiaan Flikweert (Shin Seo-vin). Flikweert was born in the Netherlands, the biological son of two Korean adoptees who grew up in the Netherlands, married, and later moved with Bastiaan and the rest of their family to South Korea to reconnect with their roots. In the essay, Bastiaan Flikweert discusses the ripple effect of adoption—particularly how his Korean parents’ adoption by Dutch parents affected him. He describes his Dutch childhood: “I looked different and was bullied… I had a hard time explaining to my peers on the playground that my parents were adopted and that I, therefore, was Dutch. Why did I have to explain myself in the first place? Were my parents not ordinary Dutch people? It took me a while to realize that most people did not see it that way: To them, I was a second-generation immigrant…. My parents did not choose to come here in the first place! Why are they not seen as just Dutch people? They were adopted! Well, it turned out that adoption was the problem.” Flikweert also writes: “[My] parents’ quest for ‘belonging’ was a burden that I was going to carry with me my whole life… The reason why we as a family moved to Korea in the first place was that my parents wanted to grant us, their children, a childhood in Korea ― an experience they thought they had been robbed of. For a long time, I resented my parents…. Was I Korean or not? Did Korea ever fully accept me? I wasn’t adopted, so why did I have to struggle with these questions?” Some of his observations are specific to the experience of adoption from Korea, but many are universal to adoptees everywhere. Flikweert concludes his essay by calling for a deeper examination of the multi-generational ramifications of international adoption, which he notes have been overlooked in the “increasing critical adoption scholarship”:  “As a child of two transnational adoptees, I am aware that the so-called ‘second generation’ is even more diverse than the first. While my siblings and I were lucky enough to experience life in Korea… most children do not have this opportunity. They grow up as ‘half-bloods’, unable to fully explain their heritage. This is a distinctly different experience from that of the “kyopo” (Korean diaspora) or “honhyeol” (mixed blood) because neither of the parents has a meaningful connection to Korean culture and language.” I appreciate the candor of Flikweert’s essay and always learn something when people touched by adoption in any way share their perspective. Read the essay here. Photo credit from The Korea Times: In this 2011 file photo, Bastiaan Flikweert poses with his family during the Ministry of Justice’s event celebrating reinstatement of nationality for Koreans who were adopted overseas as babies. Courtesy of Bastiaan Flikweert

Blue Bayou, film about Korean American adoptee

I’m posting here the NPR review of Blue Bayou, the story of a Korean American adoptee who faces deportation. Filmmaker Justin Chon, who is not himself adopted, has said he was inspired by the case of Adam Crapser, the Korean American adoptee who had run-ins with the law, lacked legal citizenship papers and was deported. I haven’t yet seen the film but hope to watch soon. And will we ever get back into movie theaters? Right now, I can’t imagine it. Sitting inside an enclosed space with other people, who may or may not be wearing masks. I’ll wait for Blue Bayou to arrive on cable, which we now have after decades of not having. The pandemic did that. Olivia’s at college and so far, so good. After a wonderful, eventful summer, I’m trying to get back to some kind of writing routine. Everyone is different and I’m a person who needs silence and routine, none of which I’ve had in a very long time. But Mateo is back at in-person school and I’m tackling a few home projects that have been hanging over me. I need to clear up head space for thinking. xoxo

Move in day

Yesterday we dropped off our daughter Olivia for her first day as a freshman at UC Merced. I cried when we drove up to the campus and I saw the University of California sign. Olivia is a person who has had to work very hard every single day of her academic life. And here she is at UC Merced, her top school choice. When my oldest sister Patrice left for college, my mother said it was as though 5 people had moved out: Patrice’s presence loomed that large. I feel that way today. As I sit at the dining room table writing this, the house feels empty and quiet. But I draw comfort from knowing Olivia has only entered her next phase. She’s off on a new adventure, eager and ready to create her own future. xoxo

“American Baby” book in NY Times

I’m posting a link to a recent NY Times review of a new nonfiction book about adoption: American Baby: A Mother, a Baby, and a Shadow History of Adoption by journalist Gabrielle Glaser. While American Baby focuses on harsh practices of the past–secrecy, shame, coercion–the reviewer notes that “[T]he shadows of the past cannot be easily dismissed as mistakes of an unenlightened moment. Today, the nearly half a million international adoptees in the United States do not have access to their birth records. And the tens of thousands of babies created from donor gametes are not legally entitled to identifying information.” If you’re reading this, you know that identity is a core issue–perhaps the core issue–for many of us who write, think, and talk about adoption and donor conception. The reviewer’s conclusion of American Baby seems to indicate work remains to be done. Read the review here.