lies our mother(s) were told

there are great fictions in adoption, particularly in transracial, intercountry adoption. Domestic adoption, as well, is full of lies: our child welfare system is corrupt and ruled by the same racism, classism, ableism, colonialism, xenophobia and misogyny of the international adoption world. but korean adoption is where I live my life, so that is where I shall begin.

lies told to birth mothers:

you have no choice

you have a choice

your child will be better off

your child will be loved

you will be better off 

adoption agencies care about your child

your family will disown you

you cannot raise this child

god wants you to abandon your baby

you will forget

you will survive

you will feel no guilt

you cannot ever tell anyone

this is your fault

lies told to adoptive families:

it's almost as good as having your own

it's better than having your own

these babies have no baggage 

these babies are cuter/smarter/more exotic

if you adopt an Asian baby then you are Asian too

attachment issues? what are you talking about?

racism? isn't that over?

god meant for you to have this child

it's cool/trendy/humanitarian

it will be easy
adoptees feel no different than biological children

your child was anonymously abandoned/some other fiction that makes the child seem more adoptable

you don't need to know anything about race to be a good parent

I feel like these barely scratch the surface.

my parents' home study called them "cold and aloof". the local agency told them not to adopt an older child because they have too many issues and it would be too hard on their family. as an infant, I was deemed to be a clean slate with no issues as long as they fed me korean food once a year and bought me a couple of books. there was a four page typed note given to them by the adoption agency. I've tried to read it but it makes no sense. it's really just lies and excuses. it is handwritten titled "The Final  Answer". as if there was anything "final" or "answer" about what it means to be adopted.

it is a heavy load. this memory i can't recall but that lives in my bones. the feeling discarded, feeling abandoned. being an orphan before i knew what that meant. the fear of being not good enough. the way that everyone I ever met wanted to know why and how I was abandoned. elementary school teachers, friends, their parents, strangers. everyone. they all said I shouldn't feel any different. so when I did, that shame was all my own.

the conflation of racist yellow peril myths about china with korean adoption. make no mistake, these systems are different. the social issues in korea that contribute to child abandonment are different than in China. and china only started adoption in the 80s, korea has been doing it since the 50s. but don't expect white people to know that. I was told that I was lucky because Korea hated girls and I was lucky I didn't get killed by my parents or sold into slavery. I was told that I was lucky a lot.

they call us "chosen children" because never say who does the choosing.

my parents still don't understand racism. my mother thinks that because she has "always been drawn to Asian things" that means she a) isn't racist and b) is qualified to parent an Asian child. neither of these things is true.

more lies.

my father is "colorblind". he is educated and worked for a long time in business. now he writes books about business, teaches classes, gives lectures. he is used to bring the authority figure inside and outside of the home. he argues with me about the validity of my experience while also insisting I am a "white girl".

lies.

as privileged white people my parents have the luxury of dismissing anything they don't agree with by looking down their nose at it. when I sent them to an exhibit of adoptee art at the Wing Luke Museum of the Asian American Experience (sidebar: my mother insisted on calling it the "Wing Luck"), they told me after that "it wasn't a very good museum". after many hours of my crying they admitted that actually the exhibit made them feel bad and they just wanted to dismiss it.

that was the last time I ever tried to talk to them about adoption.

it was only as I wrote my first letter to my birth mother that I even thought about what life must have been like for her. it was the first time I though that she must have suffered all these years, not knowing what happened to the child she never knew.

that is one of the many lies we adoptees are told. birth mothers are painted flat and simple. a place, not a person, not a relationship. 

but birth mothers are not machines, we are not blank slates, and adoptive parents are not saviors.

and every day is to reclaim a little bit of truth.

NOMS: 고구마만 Sweet Potato Rice

my stomach has been off lately - I had a bout of food poisoning, and now I'm hormonal and craving all sorts of indigestion-inducing foods. the boo and I also have very busy work schedules these days, and haven't had a ton of time for cooking. but cooking and eating korean food is crucial to my wellbeing! so this week we decided to try out a few new recipes. one of them was 고구마밥. it's super easy and very delicious, also mild enough for a sensitive belly. it is versatile - we have eaten it for breakfast, lunch and dinner mixed with 두부 (tofu) or 계란말이 (rolled egg omelette). perhaps best of all, you can make it in a rice cooker!!!

now for my first round of thank yous to folks who have pledged to my GoFundMe campaign! thank you to: Simon, Kyle, Sandra, Kyla, Sydney, Elaine, Sage and Rachel! also thank you to everyone who has pledged anonymously, and those of you have liked, shared and signal boosted. THANK YOU! your support means so much!

also thank you to the three folks running the campaign for me: Stacey 동생, my bestie Ky and my partner Sky - you are my heart and I love you all so much <3

on to the recipe!

고구마밥 (sweet potato rice)

2 C white rice, rinsed 5 times

6 medium sweet potatoes, peeled and chopped into 1/2" cubes

2 C water

sauce - I'm pretty imprecise with these, so adjust to your taste!

1/2 C soy sauce (can be gluten free by subbing in gluten free tamari or shoyu)

3 T vinegar (I used korean plum vinegar)

3 T toasted sesame oil

2 T maesil cheong (Korean plum extract/syrup), or sweetener of choice

1 T gochugaru

2 T toasted sesame seeds

4-5 cloves garlic, sliced or minced

1 C green onion or garlic chives, finely chopped

1. put rinsed and drained rice into the bowl of your rice cooker. add 2C water and let soak 30min.

2. after 30min, add chopped sweet potatoes on top and set cooker to the stew/porridge setting).

3. after 20 min, stir rice and sweet potato together, making sure to thoroughly mix rice from the bottom of the cooker into the sweet potatoes. put lid back on and continue to cook.

4. after 30 min, stir rice and sweet potatoes again. test for tenderness and continue to cook if needed.

5. put all sauce ingredients into a small glass jar. shake vigorously and test for flavor. adjust as needed.

6. serve 고구마밥 warm or cold with seasoning sauce on top.

* this recipe can also be done on the stove top, too. I just love my rice cooker.

Flowerboy Fatshion: OOTD 1/26/14

being a fat, nonbinary 꽃미남 on a budget can be hard work in the fashion department. I usually shop a mix of plus size, juniors, men's and thrift to create my looks. and since my day job is as a nanny, I don't often get to wear anything besides t-shirts and sweatpants. so a trip to the farmers market with my boo is a rare chance to get a little fancy.

Korean fashion is pretty serious bizness. it's very on trend, combining a bold statement piece and accessories with comfy classics. my goal for this year is to really step up my fatshion game and spend more wisely. i often get caught up in buying a bunch of not-quite-right pieces super cheap at thrift stores and then never wear them - i'm realizing i need to be more intentional and careful about the clothes i buy. and putting my costuming skills to work to embellish simple garments! 

the black cardi with faux leather panels is from I.N.C. (plus size). I was drawn to the drapey witchy-ness of it, and of course the mixed material look. I'm a sucker for anything pleather, mesh, lace or fishnet, and I'm also just a fiend for cardigans. I might add some extra shoulder details though, since it still feels kind of plain.

the tank is just a plain black cotton racerback that is super stretchy and soft. since it was cold out i put on my gray and black scarf from H&M. I love the idea of lightweight scarves for styling and I'm still figuring out how best to wear them. but they def make me feel cute and are a great detail. as much as I would like to own more, they aren't something I feel like I can spend on, so I just have the one, but I love it. it's also big enough to double as a fort and can be swung around like a feather boa, so it helps with the nannying too. 

the jeans are Mossimo brand from Target. I love the detailing and the super snug fit without constricting my calves. i don't love the wash though. i have a slightly vintage green version of these with studs on the hip but the material is thinner and less fitted. tight pants are definitely a 꽃미남 staple and I struggle to find ones that work for my body. these also have a 29" inseam...great for my short legs! I want to try wearing them cuffed/cropped above the ankle, too. 

makeup is my usual 꽃미남 face: 

Make Up Forever Aqua Cream in Black

MAC eyeshadow in Concrete

Etude House Crystal Tear Powder in Gold

MAC Mineralize Skinfinish in Soft and Gentle

TooFaced Lip Injection Color Bomb in Candy Burst

Etude House Woo Baby Lip Plumper

support my journey to Korea this fall!

Support Teukie’s Journey to Korea

Hi folks!

I’m a fat, queer, nonbinary, chronically ill Korean adoptee artist, writer and burlesque/queerlesque performer. I am planning a trip back to my homeland this fall to do language study at university. I am currently studying Hangul my own in order to get the most out of my studies over there.

Although language will take up most of my time, I’m also planning to engage in the transformative work being done in Korea around adoption reform, unwed mother support and also LGBTQ issues. There may even be the potential for me to perform at a queer social even in Seoul! 

In early December, I got word that my birth mother had been located, after several years of really frustrating, heartbreaking searching. I have sent her a letter and am waiting to hear back. At this point, I have no idea if it will be possible for us to meet (or for me to meet my two half siblings) because of the circumstances surrounding my birth. However, even going to Korea knowing that I have family out there, this trip takes on extra significance.

I want to experience Korea intentionally, navigating my multiple layers of identity: adoptee, queer, orphan, fat, nonbinary, foreign and American. I will be recording, photographing and art-making my experiences and feelings to share through this blog and beyond.

The financial cost of this journey is over $10,000. I’ve been working really hard to earn and save for this trip, but in the end I’m going to need help to make it a reality. These costs include airfare, lodging, food, transportation, medical, school tuition (I am applying for partial scholarships), visa fees, insurance fees and more. If we meet our fundraising goal, I can afford to stay for 7 months and complete two semesters of language study.

Please check out the GoFundMe page here: http://www.gofundme.com/6cej1s

And signal boost to make this orphan’s dream come true!

Thank you!

head/heart/hurt: thoughts on the babybox

a friend recently scoffed at my suggestion that Korean adoptees had higher than average divorce rates. i don't have a shiny study to back up this claim - just my own experiences, the experiences of adoptee friends and personal observation. i know of at least two Swedish studies that show Korean adoptees have startlingly high rates of suicide and suicide attempts. i too, have personal experience with this.

the truth is, the struggles of the adoptee are complex and complicated. they may look different from person to person, but that doesn't mean they aren't real. and if you haven't been there, you just. don't. know.

i searched for three years before i found my birth mother. and that process and time broke my heart in ways i can't describe. ways i would have never predicted when i sent out my first email to my adoption agency. or the third.

but despite my struggles, i am one of the lucky few, one of a very tiny percentage that found something. found someone. i have a chance to look at a photo and see myself. and maybe, i will meet my birth mother face-to-face, or my half-siblings. no matter the outcome of our reunion (and believe me, they run the gamut) i am one of the lucky ones because i am now connected to someone. some thing.

i know so many adoptees who have been searching for much longer than me. and many of them will never find anything. or anyone. they may have had several false positives along the way, consecutive heartbreaks that i can't comprehend. they may have searched only to find what they were looking for was gone, left only with whispers from distant relatives.

but this is not a pointless ramble.

it's this babybox, you see, that has me all twisted up in knots. because it only encourages anonymous abandonment, something which is currently legally possible in Korea, but the babybox makes it final. there is no possibility for that child to ever find their family, there is no way for that mother to find out what happened to her child (because yes, birth mothers are human beings with emotions, not just uteruses that turn out cute, trendy, brown accessories for the discriminating shopper).

since the babybox's installation, the only statistic to change has been an increase in anonymous abandonment. it does not prevent infanticide. it does not save lives. it ruins lives.

i imagine, and i can't breathe. the sheer force of the suffering this babybox will cause to the generations of orphans it manufactures is unbearable. the pain i felt for three years would become a lifetime. it would become final. just imagine. but you can't. you. just. can't. unless you've been there.

we have had so much done to us. adoptees. so much taken from us. by social stigma, by neglect, by greed, by colonialism, by imperialism, by war, by sexism, by racism, by history.

many of us have been told the "anonymous abandonment" story to make us more palatable to overseas buyers. blank slates. it also discourages searching and upsetting the status quo and keeps the shady underbelly of overseas adoption hidden.

it's no coincidence that all of this press around the babybox comes hand-in-hand with efforts from the agencies to undo changes made by the Special Adoption Law. changes that, while huge, are also just baby steps towards bringing Korea's adoption industry into ethical compliance. the agencies don't want to see their gravy train of fresh, baggage-free orphans for export dry up. plain and simple. so all of this babybox media attention, the movie with it's lies and misdirection, the facebook virality, it all serves to make agencies rich on the blood and tears of unwed mothers and their babies.

(many folks, much more knowledgable and articulate than i, have written criticisms of the babybox. such as this one, by adoptee Shannon Heit. tonight, heart/hurt bursting, i just had to sit and write out some thoughts. this is by no means comprehensive or well cited.)

every child deserves to know where they came from.

MAKING HOME: a trip to the H-Mart

car selca

a few of my favorite things :)

displacement

two weeks ago, i flew home for christmas with my partner and my entire family. one week ago, i arrived back in Seattle. today, i'm starting to write about it.

this trip, much like everything else in the past six months, was full of realizations.

one of those realizations is that a big part of why my sister and i don't get along is birth order. she was the youngest, the baby, until she was 7 and i was adopted. at first, i was a prop, a way for her to get praise. she actually brought me into school for show & tell once. but once i started showing her up, i became the competition. she's been in competition with me ever since. now in her 30s, a successful lawyer, married with two kids, a homeowner - she still feels the need to compete with me. she will still complain about how i scored higher than her on the SATs or point out to my family that she's still Catholic and i left the church when i was 13.

she picks fights with everyone in my family, but particularly likes to bully me in and then point out my instability if i lash out.

i am the first born, the oldest. i just found out, i have to younger half-siblings: a sister (20) and a brother (15). i think i've always felt and acted like the oldest sibling, i just never had the context before. my bestie and my partner are both eldest siblings - i am a nurturer, a caretaker and a fierce protector. 

this trip i refused to engage my sister when she baited me. it was draining, frustrating, painful. having my partner there helped me to decompress after a days interactions. my sister is a hateful person. she is racist, fatphobic, ableist, queerphobic, transphobic, classist. she is selfish, self-centered and cruel. she never takes responsibility for her actions. she throws tantrums that are worse than her 3-year old.

she has shamed me my entire life. i see why now. she feels - she needs to feel - that am inferior to her. that i was a waste of money and effort. that i should have never been adopted. that she should have never been displaced from her position as the baby, the princess, the center of attention.

i see that now.

it's a strange place that i am in. for the first time, seeing clearly that her vitriol stems from her own issues, not mine. for once, i was the calm, mature older sibling that i was meant to be. i stood my ground. i loved and cared for her children, who she regards as nothing more than props, dolls to dress up and then casually dump on family members to care for when she doesn't feel like it. i gave her more of myself than she deserved.

and it felt good to not end up fighting for my right to exist with her. but it took so much out of me. i'm still recovering, and i don't really know where to begin. but this feels like a start.

there's a calm that comes from knowing i am in fact, the oldest, and that i have the chance to be a better big sibling to my dongsaengs than either of my adoptive siblings ever were to me. there is strength to that thought.