Upon arriving to a doctor’s office, as a new patient, I am typically asked to fill out a thick stack of papers held together by a sterile clipboard. The papers ask for my basic information, such as my name, address, age, etc. But almost immediately, I begin to hesitate as I fill out the forms. The paper asks me, “With which race do you identify?” and “What ethnicity do you consider yourself?” I do not know how to answer these questions honestly. Part of it may be because I am a twenty-year-old in a society that forces me to question who I am everyday, but a larger part of it is because I am adopted. I was adopted from South Korea as an infant and came to my family in America at the age of five months.
I cannot remember a time when I didn’t know that I was adopted. Ever since I can remember, it has just been a fact of our family and nothing more than that. I distinctly remember my mother telling me for the first time when I was a child in a Montessori School in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. My parents told me that my birth mother put me up for adoption because she wanted me to have the best opportunities in life and that she felt that she was too young to provide them for me. She gave me up out of love, and I was fortunate to be placed in my wonderful home and to have the family that I currently do. I do not feel adopted. I’ve never noticed that their skin is a different color than mine. I feel loved and safe and fully integrated into American society.
Within the past 20 years, international adoptions have gained more momentum in the press. Both domestic and international adoptions were options for women unable to conceive or for those looking to help foster children find a home. South Korea is a very popular choice for the adoption of children, specifically babies. Recently, an article in The New York Times highlighted the reality behind adoptions from South Korea through the lens of young adults criticizing international adoption. These individuals represent a group of adoptees who wish to abolish international adoption, specifically out of South Korea. Their main claim is that it is not natural to remove babies from their society.
I disagree with their declaration that it is “unnatural.” While I understand their criticism of society, I think that their stance is selfish and perverse. They claim that society is to blame and that external pressures make it nearly impossible for single mothers in South Korea to raise their children, both socially and financially. Not only would the single parents be ostracized from their family and friends, but they would not be able to financially support themselves and their child, as no job would be given to a woman of such “disgrace.” This speaks for greater feminist issues of inequality for single mothers that exist in many cultures, including the United States. The lack of support for single mothers in South Korea allegedly forces the new mothers to put their children up for adoption. There are different cases for every individual, and no one claim can justify or generalize the intimate decision to place a child up for adoption.
However, the article from The New York Times fails to acknowledge the strength it takes for a woman to give up her child out of love. The article focuses on the culture that the South Korean adoptees missed out on as a result of their adoption. It mentions the racial differences between a white family and their Asian child. It highlights the isolation felt by the adopted children and the lack of belonging they underwent during adolescence. It makes the reader feel sorry for those who were “taken” from their native land. That frustrates me because this article fails to communicate why adoption is such a great opportunity for most. In the day and age of artificial insemination and surrogate births, adoption is not always the only way to a family for those unable to give birth to a child of their own.
I do not care why my birth mother gave me up. Maybe she did not want me because I was a burden and she wanted the approval of society, but no matter what, she gave me up to give me a chance at a better life, no matter how selfish her decision may have been at the time — and I am thankful everyday that she did. I was given so many great opportunities from my family. They have given me the love and support that I needed to grow into a mature young woman. Adoption is a great option. Everyone has a hard time figuring out who they are as an individual, regardless of the color of their skin or that of their family. Life is hard that way. Being adopted does not change who I am. I do not inherently have a connection to a culture that I was never exposed to simply because my hair is darker than that of my brother’s, and I do not have a natural inclination to Korean life simply because my eyes are different to those of my parents. My physical features do not change who I have grown to be.
In defense of adoption, both international and domestic, I want to express how thankful I am that my birth mother chose to give me up. I do not care about the reasoning behind her decision, but rather I am grateful for finding a home, even if it took me a couple of thousand of miles to find it. My home is where my family is, and my family are those people who help me to grow and to learn. My people are not those who share the same physical features as me, but they are the individuals who choose to support me and to guide me, to love me regardless of what I may look like on the outside and to see me for the person I am on the inside.
