Adapted

I sit down and talk again to Peter Møller, one of the co-founders of Danish Korean Rights Group, which has succeeded in convincing a truth commission in Korea to open an investigation into Korean adoption. The group has submitted more than 300 cases representing adopted Koreans in a number of countries, alleging false paperwork and switched identities among other human rights violations. 

Zhen E Rammelsberg, 50, was adopted from Korea by a white couple in Iowa in the US. She grew up without mirrors or anyone that looked like her.  It would be more than four decades later that she would finally return to her native country. But instead of being able to neatly complete her puzzle she realized  the missing piece - herself - no longer fit. 

Allen Majors, 63, is a Korean-American adoptee who has decided to retire in Korea -- more than 60 years after being sent away for adoption to the US.  One could think of it as a kind of reclamation of identity but Majors chooses to not place too much emphasis and burdens on the past. Instead, he looks for 'spontaneous delightful moments' in the everday as he looks forward to embarking on the second half of his life where it all started. 

Christy Zaragoza, 30, regularly spreads joy in the adoptee community as a board member of the Association of Korean Adoptees in San Francisco. She reveals that the reason she is so interested in making others happy around her comes from a dark place. This is the first time Christy has shared her story publicly like this. 

Danish attorney and Korean adoptee Peter Møller is the next guest in the podcast. He and his group, Danish Korean Rights Group, are submitting cases to Korea's Truth and Reconciliation Commission. The aim is to encourage the body to investigate Korean intercountry adoption practices during the authoritarian regime fo illegality and criminality on the part of adoption agencies and government agents, as well as for violations of international human rights. We spoke to him on Oct 15, 2022 during his month-long work in Korea, ahead of an important appearance before the National Assembly on Friday, Oct. 21 (KST). 

At last month's AKASF's Bay to LA annual event in Koreatown, there was a booth dedicated to letting adoptees share part of their story on their own. We didn't know what to expect or whether anyone would share. This next episode is a compilation of all the submissions. It's a different way of documenting these histories -- almost like an audio diary. Thanks to all the adoptees who participated. 

Season Six kicks off with a live audience interview with Nick Greene of Association of Korean Adoptees – San Francisco. The Bay-area Korean adoptee group held its annual “Bay To LA” event September 16-17, 2022. More than 70 adoptees from CA, OR, TX, AZ, MN, IL, WA and MI attended. Greene, 40, is relative new to adoptee community spaces and he talks about his role as a leader for one group and what motivates him to get involved.

American writer, poet and educator Sun Yung Shin, 48, of Minneapolis, MN closes out Season 5 by talking about her latest imprint, "The Wet Hex," and its themes of abandonment, survival, evolution and ecosystems. 

Jenny Town, 46, is a Korean adoptee who was one of the first waves to go back to Korea after their adoptions. Now, a foreign policy expert specializing in North Korea, Town recalls her time in Korea as an university student, dating, and what she learned about herself while she was there. 

Korean adoptees Kim Stoker and kim thompson left Korea about five years ago. This time it was their decision. Stoker spent most of her adult life there, and thompson, nearly a decade. They talk with podcast host Kaomi Lee, who also moved back to the States from Korea five years ago, about the tradeoffs, adjusting back to US life, and the belief that in the case of Korea, you can always go home. 

Korean adoptee Corissa Saint Laurent, 48, struggled with alcohol addiction as a young person after she felt abandoned by her adoptive mother. Just before she became a mother herself, she found her Korean mother, miraculously living not far from where she had been adopted to in New England. Reuniting with her eomma has closed a circle of pain for her. 

Bjarte Aarland, 45, says he's always had pride in being Korean. Even if standing out for being different in western Norway wasn't valued in wider society. Aarland talks about the complexity for many Korean adoptees in Norway, a country descendant from Vikings. And of being asked the ultimate question by his biological family: Was his adoption worth it?

What if you only discovered you were adopted in your 30s? Kristen Choi, 33, or 최우경, learned the truth about being adopted from Korea only a year ago, and is still unpacking what this new information means. Choi has learned she once had a different name, Choi Bo-mi, and is figuring out how to embrace a new identity as an adopted person, as well as exploring the adoptee community for the first time. 

Jakob Sandersen, 54, is at a crossroads. A Danish pharmacist with a family living outside Copenhagen, he might otherwise be content. But the pull of Korea, his native country, has long been present. With his education and knowledge, he has opportunities to relocate and work in Korea. But something holds him back. 

Kimberley Lee, 38, says she's always felt very Aussie growing up in suburban Sydney, Australia. Her Korean roots seemed as faraway as the country itself. But in recent years, she's realized the importance of connecting that past to her present. 

For so many Korean adoptees, little if any information is ever known about one's biological family, either because of empty case files or redaction of information because of Korean privacy laws that protect the relinquishing family. But what if one had a quasi-open adoption, where your adoptive father had met your biological mother and together they had arranged the adoption? That is the life story of Han Yong Wunrow, 27, who shares more about the unusual adoption story, and even more unusual that his white adoptive parents made Korean culture and interest in the Korean diaspora so central to their own lives. 

Ray Trom, 46, survived trauma that no child should have to experience, first after his parents died leaving him with abusive relatives, to being relinquished to an orphanage with a brother he barely knew, learning to fend for himself from hunger and abuse from other children. At age 12, he was adopted to MInnesota and thrown into an American school knowing little English. Through it all, Trom found his path in life and has felt gratitude and loss, and credits both for who he is today. 

Mixed-race Korean adoptee JoYi Rhyss, 51, shares her story of grief and forgiveness. Her pain starts in Korea, where she lived with her Korean other until age nine, but always aware she might be sent away because her dark skin meant she didn't belong. Her journey took her to one of the whitest areas of the U.S., in a rural Minnesota town with Norwegian heritage where she grew up feeling othered and also not belonging. Rhyss's journey of self-hatred and not belonging took her down a path of discovering how to embrace her Blackness and learning how to accept herself.               

Justin Snyder, 35, is a dreamer and a seeker.  He was adopted from Korea by parents in West Virginia and grew up in a small town only to now have traveled the world in search of meaning, spirituality and innovative thinking. Snyder embarked on his own adoptee journey in 2016 when he traveled back to Korea to attend The Gathering and learn more about his origins. 

Tara Tenhoff, 47, is a Korean adoptee living in Minneapolis, Minn. She came to the US by way of a private adoption and had always been told a story that didn't seem quite real until she went back to Korea a few years ago and met her birth family. Tara describes her feelings finding them initially and walks us through all the emotions of reunion and after.