förbi Maddy Ullman, born in China and raised in the USA.
I wrote this on the last day of disability pride month (July).
I started disability pride month at a conference on a panel discussing the intersectionality of disability and adoption. The audience heard me and my truths saying things like:
If someone handed me a magic cure today, that would get rid of all my disabilities, I wouldn’t take it. I don’t know who I’d be without disability and there’s beauty in that.
Disability has taught me to be adaptive and resourceful. I have more empathy. More drive.
I am so proud to call myself disabled and I have cultivated a full life with it.
That is my truth.
It is not my only truth, though. In all honesty, I am exhausted. I am angry. This world is not made for anyone with disabilities in mind. Lately, I’ve been feeling the weight of my existence. Let me tell you more. It takes so much more every day to exist and function in society with any health condition. I work hard just to exist. The people around me have to do more if the environment isn’t accessible.
Disability is the one of the few marginalised groups anyone can be a part of, at any time in their life.
For the first time, I brought my walker to a conference. It absolutely saved me. The walker is something I’ve had to struggle with my vanity to use. Even though it helps me out so much. My walker is a beautiful red colour, carries so much, and I walk better with it. Still, it’s a struggle to use what helps me so much. There is accessibility but it’s usually far and hard to find. Little things like doors make all the difference. Especially when the doors are heavy.
I love my walker. What does it say about society and accessibility when it actually takes more thought for me to use what helps me? This internal struggle is something I’m always at war with. One day, I aspire to use my walker every day with pride.
I have to remind myself every day. Yes it’s okay for me to take up space. I am worthy of that space. I have to give myself permission to be enough. I am always prepared to make that space if it doesn’t exist on its own. Spoiler alert, I often have to carve it out with my bare hands. Every time I step into a room, I have to set the standard. I have to be extraordinary.
With all that said, I am choosing to honor disability pride month by allowing myself to sit in the discomfort. I give myself permission to be enough and live well without guilt and matter what productivity the day may bring.
Friends, please remember your existence is enough and you are worthy of whatever space you may hold. ❤️
On 30 July, I ran our Reunion and Beyond webinar, part 2 of this series in searching and reunion in intercountry adoption. I couldn’t be more proud of our 8 panelists who did an incredible job of sharing some of the nuances and complexities involved! Thank you to each of them!
Ae Ra (born in Sth Korea, raised in Belgium), Alex (born in Romania, raised in Germany and New Zealand), Jonas (born in Haiti, raised in Australia), Sam (born in the Philippines, raised in the Philippines and the USA), Maria (born in Greece, raised in the USA), Ben (born in Guatemala, raised in the USA), James (born in Colombia, raised in Australia), and Raya (born in Russia, raised in Canada).
For those who are time poor, I’ve provided a time code so you can flick to the relevant parts. For those who want a summary of our key messages, they are also included as a pdf.
Time code
00:00:00 Intro – Lynelle 00:01:32 Why this webinar 00:07:16 Introduction of panelists 00:07:22 Ae Ra 00:09:17 Jonas 00:10:33 Maria 00:11:25 Raya 00:13:10 Ben 00:15:42 Alex 00:16:52 Sam 00:20:40 James 00:23:05 Questions 00:23:15 What do you recommend in preparation for reunion? 00:23:30 Maria 00:28:33 Ben 00:32:20 Raya 00:35:25 What challenges have you faced in reunion? 00:35:42 James 00:40:22 Jonas 00:43:19 Raya 00:45:48 Ae Ra 00:49:35 Tips for a media facilitated reunion 00:50:05 Alex 00:51:34 How to deal with differences in language and culture? 00:51:51 Ben 00:55:38 James 01:01:04 What role do I want for adoptive family in / after reunion? 01:01:26 Alex 01:03:10 Jonas 01:06:34 Ae Ra 01:09:47 How do I support myself in reunion? 01:09:53 Jonas 1:11:14 Maria 1:16:12 Sam 1:21:19 How do we manage the financial requests? 1:21:42 Sam 1:23:58 Alex 1:26:12 Ben 1:29:30 What’s it been like to find answers to your questions? 1:29:41 James 1:31:58 Raya 1:34:39 Sam 1:36:52 What role should government and adoption agencies have in reunion? 1:37:12 Ben 1:39:18 Maria 1:42:49 Ae Ra 1:45:56 Closing remarks and thanks
Huge thanks to the Australian Federal Government, DSS for providing Small Grants through Relationships Australia ICAFSS which allowed compensation to the panelists for their time and expertise.
förbi Ae Ra Van Geel, adopted from Sth Korea to Belgium
Thoughts after the adoption retreat July 2023
I was given a name,
from my grandma.
She called me ae ra
Last weekend for the 7th time, the annual summer retreat for adopted people took place in Zeist, Netherlands. 41 adoptees from different countries of origin (Mexico, Nepal, Bangladesh, Colombia, China, Sri Lanka, Indonesia, Thailand, Netherlands, India and South Korea) got to share, experience, grieve, laugh, dance, sing and heal a little bit through systemic trauma work led by Hilbrand Westra.
When I introduced myself at the beginning of the weekend, I said that I was born as Song, Ae Ra but by adoption I grew up as Renate Van Geel, that Ae Ra grew bigger, that I am and always was her, even though I was never called that.
I didn’t suspect then that 3 days later when driving home I would dare to follow the desire to be called Ae Ra, also in the ‘outside world’.
It means more Korea, more me but inevitably also less Belgium and less the other. My neighbourhood is losing another piece of who they always knew. I’m also paying a price again, this time to be able to become more myself. I give up, I lose. Renate is getting smaller.
In addition to that, there will also be peace, it doesn’t all have to be immediately.
I’ll just start at the beginning: my name is Ae Ra. After almost 39 years, call me by my own name.
Thanks to my colleagues from @adoptieoplingen, an honor and also a pleasure to form with you this weekend.
Finally, a deep bow to everyone who was there, thank you for your presence, inspiration and strength.
On 26 June, a panel of 6 transracial and intercountry adoptees adoptees from the ICAV network presented to the New Zealand Oranga Tamariki Ministry for Children teams who work in adoption on a variety of questions.
Click below to watch our webinar: (If you are using Google Chrome, click on “Learn More” to view the video)
Time Code
For those who are time poor, I have provided a time code so you can skip to the parts you want to hear:
00:18 Peter McGurk intro 00:41 in English 03:47 Lynelle welcome and introductions of panelists 05:22 Alex K 06:09 Alex G 7:25 Bev 08:58 Gabby 10:58 Mike 11:38 Importance of consulting with a wide range of generations impacted by adoption – Lynelle 13:00 What is ICAV 15:46 ICAVs Vision 16:32 ICAVs main achievements 18:49 ICAVs key achievements Australia 22:20 ICAVs current priorities 24:28 What are some of the distinct stages adoptees go through in our lifetime 33:52 The need for post adoption support services 34:11 Alex 37:46 Mike 40:22 Bev 42:07 Understanding racism 42:19 Mike 46:15 Gabby 51:51 Search and reunion 52:14 Alex 1:02:35 Key messages for workers in adoption 1:03:01 Alex 1:05:56 Gabby 1:09:28 Bev 1:13:32 Main issues for Central Authorities to think about – Lynelle 1:22:34 Peter and close
Key Messages
For those who would like a Summary of Key Messages, click här for our pdf.
We thank Peter McGurck and the New Zealand Oranga Tamariki Ministry for Children for asking us to present to their adoption teams!
förbi Damian S Rocco, adopted from Vietnam to Australia.
I share with you the next chapter of my journey!
Left to Right: Damian & Luom
This photo is from the 1970s. When I was getting picked up from a Saigon orphanage to be sent to an Australian couple in the 70s, the orphanage said to couple, “There is another half black /Asian child and these two seem to be playing together a lot. Can you take two?”
The couple said, “We only asked for one!” But they took Luom as well.
Although we are not biological siblings, our journeys are the same and brotherhood is not always defined as having to be biologically related.
Soon after we arrived in Australia to be with this couple, they decided after some time, not to keep Luom. He was given up to the State and then went on to vibrate on his unknown journey.
We reconnected some 25 years later in the 90s, then through some life challenges, I withdrew from our journey together. Fast forward to 2023 and we have reconnected.
Luom, like myself, has also found his African American family in the USA. This brought absolute joy and happiness to me.
Luom had his Antwone Fisher moment. For those who have seen the movie, you will know what I mean – the last scene in the movie!
Luom was met by his African American family with placards and all.
I apologise to Luom that his unconditional brotherly love for me was not enough back in early life to get me out of some dark places. Thank you for always not giving up on me.
Coming Next: You can RSVP for ICAVs second part webinar on Reunion and Beyond
This is the last in our blog series dedicated to Söker i Intercountry Adoption. These individual stories are being shared from our Perspektivpapper som också delades med våra Webbseminarium, Searching in Intercountry Adoption by Adoptee Experts
förbi Raya Snow born in Russia, raised in Canada
I was born in the city of Ivanovo Oblast, Russia 1989. It is located North East of Moscow with a population of 361,641. After I was born, my mother and father moved to the Caucasus of Russia, Derbent. After I turned 3, my parents got divorced and my mother and I moved to Stavropol, North of the Caucuses.
Eventually, my mother met another man and we started living together in a two bedroom apartment. He was a very abusive and narcissistic man who would abuse both my mother and myself. I believe my mother one day left him, leaving me in his care. Not being his blood relative, he shortly dropped me off to my mother’s great-aunt’s place. This is where my journey really unfolded.
My great-great aunt ( Elvira), was a religious older woman whose life revolved around the church and God. We lived somewhat happily together, but I would always wonder about my mother and her whereabouts. Sometimes my mother would come to the house to see me, but those were always incredibly short visits. Due to her never being around, the neighbours started to question my health and education. Elvira then thought to start looking for a forever home for myself.
I remember, she would advise me to be on my best behaviour, to listen well, in order for a family to take me or to buy me off of her. Being only about 5 years of age, I was very excited to be able to visit other families with children, play with them, and get to know them. Deep down in my heart, I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stay with them because some were far worse off than I was, living with my aunt.
One day, there was a lady that came to the door, asking to speak to Elvira about a family from Canada wanting to adopt a little Russian girl. Elvira was so pleased about this news that she allowed the woman to take pictures of herself which she would then send to the family in Canada. The woman let us know there would be a man who would come in the following weeks to advise if the Canadian family was interested in the child, me. In the meantime, I was still going from home to home, to see if anyone showed any interest in purchasing me.
A month or two later, there was another knock on our gate and as the lady mentioned, there was a man (George) who came to see Elvira and I. George brought us fruits and sweets which I would eat while the two were speaking intently. He let Elvira know that the Canadian family took an interest in me and was willing to pay a big sum in order to adopt me. She let him know the process would not be an easy one as all my documentation was lost in a car accident where both of my parents died tragically.
According to her statement, I survived miraculously by the will of God. She then showed George the death certificate of my parents, leaving me, a little orphan in her will. George suggested we start the process by recreating new documents, stating my mother’s name and him as the biological father in my new birth certificate.
Me, being this little girl, understanding that my mother will never return back to me, as she had left and I hadn’t seen her maybe for months, I felt a new adventure was about to unfold. George started coming by the house more often, gaining my trust and I his. We became great friends and I enjoyed having a “father figure” in my life. On the weekends, I would go over to his house and meet his wife and children, who took me in with open arms.
A turning point was about to happen when Elvira spoke to our neighbours and let them know she was going to take the money and myself up West, to the Ural Mountains where the rest of our family resided. The neighbours were saddened by this news as I was a very malnourished little girl who needed attentive medical care, so they called George straight away and let him know the alarming news. George of course, called the potential family in Canada and let them know that they needed to save me and hide me while the rest of the documentation was being prepared. The Canadian family agreed and I was brought to a small city near Moscow, where the biological relatives of their family lived. There, I met my wonderful adoptive mom, with whom I gained an instantaneous attachment because of desperately wanting to feel loved and cared for.
I believe I lived with the family in Moscow for about 6 months. While my documents were getting done, I started attending pre-school, spent time with relatives on the weekends, went to church on Sundays and welcomed a new package from my Canadian family every few weeks or so.
It was sometime in June when George came back into my life again. This time, we were going to begin our travels to Canada. The process was a very tricky one, I had to learn to call him “dad” and he would call me “daughter”. George let me know that we had to fake a bond, where authorities would not be able to question our relationship to one another. Our lives were at stake if any one of us did something questionable, I could be sent to an orphanage and he to prison.
We first began our trip to Moscow, where we stayed at George’s blind father’s place for a few days before heading out on a Cargo ship to Turkey. I remember the ship well and I grew fond of the people in it. Once we reached Turkey, we took a flight to France which I don’t have any memories of, and from there we flew to Canada.
Once we got off the flight, I could see in the hallway above me, there were many people waiting to greet their loved ones. My adoptive parents were one of those people, who were waiting with balloons and a cam-recorder for that very first hug. George and my adoptive mom ended up getting married and this “happy” ending lasted for a couple more years until George and my adoptive mom separated (finalised the divorce) and then she claimed full custody of me.
Twenty-five years went by, I started on my search for my biological parents which I have found with great success. I had help through a friend of my adoptive mom who was able to help me find my biological mother on a Russian app. I have found my biological mother, who is still well and alive with a beautiful, big family who has been supporting her throughout the loss of her child, me. I have also reconnected with my biological father, whom I found through a Russian tv show and he had been at war in 1994 – 1996 between the Chechens and the Russians. After the war ended, he began his search for me, with no leading answers on my whereabouts or my biological mother from Elvira.
This is a true story. It is a story of grief, loss, abandonment and also happiness. I would like to bring awareness that abduction happens, that childhood trafficking exists and it needs to be spoken about. Adoptees are lacking support in those areas as we are terrified to speak about our truths and what the truth might do to those surrounding us.
This is a new era, a space to bring light to our journeys, to the eyes of our governments, our adopters, adoption organisations and our peers. Let’s start creating legal changes through advocacy and the support of our fellow adoptees! Together, let’s share our truths!
Följande bloggserie kommer att tillägnas vår Söker i Intercountry Adoption serier. Dessa individuella berättelser delas från vår Perspektivpapper som också delades med våra Webbseminarium, Searching in Intercountry Adoption by Adoptee Experts..
förbi Desiree Maru, born in the Philippines, raised in the USA
I was born in destitute poverty in the Philippines in 1985 and hence relinquished to an adoption agency on the day that I was born. I was taken care of at Asilo de la Milagrosa, in the care of Catholic nuns who were social workers at the time, and adopted via Holt International to the USA when I was about two years old. I did not know my adoptive parents, nor did they come out to the Philippines to get to know me. My name legally changed, and I was flown from an airplane and delivered to Caucasian strangers that were my legally binding family.
I grew up in Wisconsin, in the Midwest, and had an adopted brother, who was two years older than me, who was also adopted from the Philippines, from a different orphanage. We grew up not being taught about the Philippines. We grew up with a lack of pride or understanding of our home culture, heritage, customs and language. Instead we were heavily assimilated into the Western culture; we were asked a few times about our culture from our adoptive parents but it wasn’t enough support to keep us connected to our home traditions.
Barriers included a lack of being informed from our adoptive parents about our homeland, ancestry and we also lacked emotional-psychological support for intercountry adoptees in the Midwest at the time. I vaguely remember a time when my adoptive mother sat me down in the living room, back in Wisconsin, she told me I was adopted, and I said, “I know,” and walked out of the living room. I went back to my bedroom to be by myself. That’s the tone of my childhood, where I was showing like I didn’t care when in fact, the whole experience was difficult for me. But I didn’t know how to reach out or talk about it to anybody.
My brother had a lot of issues and we moved to Arizona in high school to try to start over as a family. This is a time when my adoptive mother came into my bedroom and showed me my biological papers. She said she had to wait until I was 18 to give these to me, but I was close enough to the age, or something along those lines. She left, and I looked at them and I cried. I saw the name of my birth mother, and I longed to know more about her.
I imagined my birth mother a lot in those days. I wrote poetry, and it was never enough to fill the gap and missing pieces of my heart.
Obstacles in searching at the time was that my biological papers, which had been established by social workers in the Philippines, didn’t preserve much of any functional information for independently searching for family members or family history. These biological papers lacked any kind of suitable, identifiable information that preserved in any way my heritage and family tree information, which would be necessary to piece together my past without needing the very individuals to re-establish the knowledge of my heritage.
My biological papers revealed next to nothing about my father, which later on, I would find that the information that was volunteered by my birth mother was also false. But as a teenager, when all I have are these old, governmentally-certified papers from my home country, that’s all that I had. So these old-fashioned, brittle documents were my only hope, which were papers that scarcely were able to certify my birth on thin, fragile paper. I had a feeding schedule from my orphanage and a mighty, descriptive report of what I looked like and acted like as a vulnerable baby in the orphanage. And that was all I had of my entire past. These artefacts showed I was just a product of the adoption process.
I finally decided to pursue a reunion when I was in my mid-twenties. I discovered that Holt International actually had a search and reunion department, so I emailed them, and started the process. They reached out to my old orphanage, Asilo de la Milagrosa, and the kind social workers there had found my files. They also went themselves to the address of my birth mother, and thankfully, she still lived there. From that point, they coordinated with her.
I planned a trip to the Philippines with barely enough funds to cover this at the time. It was difficult because my adoptive mother wasn’t supportive at all, and nobody from my adoptive family supported me either. But in a few months, I was able to create an itinerary. I was to leave Seattle, to the Philippines, and I was given a place to stay with the Intercountry Adoption Board of the Philippines, and later, Asilo de la Milegrosa had guest quarters too.
The cost of a reunion is plenty. The cost of travel is hefty. But the main cost to consider is the toll of what you’re undergoing psychologically and emotionally. You’ve spent all your life fabricating an identity away from this place, and now you’re returning, and you’re having to break out of that safety net to acknowledge and face parts of your past that had been concealed all this time. So it is disruptive to the security in our lives. It is a risk one takes as well, because you don’t know the results, and how you’ll process the experience post-reunion either.
The outcome of this search was that I was unknowingly able to have a reunion granted for me, with my birth mother and half-birth brother, due to all of these circumstances leading up to this being uniquely favourable and available to me at the time.
My reunion was in 2012, and it is now 2023 and I’m living on my own in Indiana. My adopted brother recently passed away last year, homeless on the streets of the Philippines, in 2022. He lacked much needed support throughout his whole life, which will always weigh on me, and I miss him everyday. I don’t talk with my adoptive family anymore, although I had kept in touch with my adoptive parents and grandparents mainly. I just have one surviving adoptive grandfather now as well, so life has changed even in their circumstances.
After experiencing the whole search and reunion process, I do have my own perspectives to share. I think what is needed is that every adoption company and governmental organisation should have a search and reunion department for all adoptees to utilise.
Every adoption agency and birth country of an orphaned or vulnerable child should be collecting all of their biographical informationincluding family trees and family members, so that they can have the knowledge of their past to utilise for their own personal purposes. Adoptees should have a right to have their family history preserved and safeguarded, administratively. Their biographical information, including birth information and birth records, needs to be preserved as best as possible, and social workers should make sure that all information is accurate and not in fact made up.
This biographical information is what holds the last of an adoptee’s own cultural identity and historical background, and even medically, this is paramount. This information could give a sense of security and psychological support if anything, which could save society a lot of issues in the long run. It would hold well in the search and reunion process because the more information adoptees are given, the more options adoptees have for meeting or getting to know their home countries in ways that are comfortable for them.
Supportive resources include the adoption agencies free search and reunion administrative support, biological paper filing and holding for the adoptee; it is giving an adoptee full access to their records at any time as well. Intercountry adoption boards or agencies of the home country, and the orphanage that the adoptee was cared for at, all need to be officially accountable. They all need to have proper records of the vulnerable child, and proper process and procedures for the search and reunion. Support should be accessible on a regular basis.
There should be rapid communication readily available for adoptees today such as having proper email addresses, current phone numbers and customer service at hand. Support should be granted such as places to stay when the adoptee visits the home country and on a reunion; they should be informed of the reunion process, given counselling support, translator support, and if someone can document the reunion for the adoptee, that could help too.
Now in 2023, after all these years of living life, pursuing therapies, working and becoming the owner of my own life, I’ve decided to start a new chapter of my search and reunion by requesting a MyHeritage DNA Kit for starting an initial search for biological relatives, and to also learn about my DNA heritage, and where I come from. This DNA kit was free due to the program in place recently, which was why I’d participated in requesting this kit.
The difference in this is that before, I would say, I experienced more of a direct line to my poverty-stricken past at Asilo de la Milagrosa, where in my mid-twenties, I met my birth mother and half birth-brother in 2012. Now, it is simply nice to search in a more discovery-toned, self-paced way, versus having to respond to a critical need to grasp the truth of what happened to me as a vulnerable baby and understand why my mother gave me up when I was born.
In this DNA search, I don’t have to ask too many hard questions, although even to this day, some questions can still linger in my mind from time to time: Why didn’t my biological family contact me all this time? Why wasn’t I able to mend the fabric of my biological family history at a certain point in my life? And, why did my past have to be such a void?
Följande bloggserie kommer att tillägnas vår Söker i Intercountry Adoption serier. Dessa individuella berättelser delas från vår Perspektivpapper som också delades med våra Webbseminarium, Searching in Intercountry Adoption by Adoptee Experts.
förbi Sonia Marinescu, born in Romania, raised in Germany and the USA
It was 1991 in Timisoara, Romania when I was born. I was adopted from a Romanian orphanage two years later first to Germany then to America. Most would say I was fortunate. In some ways yes but my story is marred, and my adoption was not a rosy one. I eventually took my name I was born under and what identity I could but that is neither here nor there. What I am sharing in this paper is my search for my family.
At first, it was great. I found my birth mom. Vali Nas found her. It was costly. $700 American is expensive in Romania. It took a while and she did refuse a DNA test. My brother would write. A half-brother was found through a former adoptee. My birth father was the best man I ever had the fortune to speak with in poetry and words. I was soon supposed to meet him, but he passed. This resulted in my birth mom choosing to break contact. Especially after I mistakenly married a female. I have spent countless hours since trying to find my mom and I am hoping one day she will come back.
Finding family is not easy. There are language barriers. Romanian is not a language I speak. I needed a translator just to talk to my mom. The emotions were the hardest. While she cried, I was confused. I did not know what to feel or how to react. I still do not. Now, I am using The Never Forgotten Children of Romania Facebook group. I am hoping someone I have not met will come around.
Family is important to me and the hole where it sits is missing. All I can do is hope. But for what I found; it was certainly a whirlwind with limited support on how to even process the timeline. It was something I had to do on my own but luckily, I am used to this. My advice to adoptees wanting to find family is make sure you have a good one in place before you do. If it is chosen, that is still family. It is better to feel less alone while you search especially if it ends in rejection.
Följande bloggserie kommer att tillägnas vår Söker i Intercountry Adoption serier. Dessa individuella berättelser delas från vår Perspektivpapper som också delades med våra Webbseminarium, Searching in Intercountry Adoption by Adoptee Experts.
förbi Huyen Friedlander, född i Vietnam, uppvuxen i USA
I söndags fick jag veta att min födelsefar hade dött. Jag sållar fortfarande igenom hur det känns, en unik typ av förlust av en förälder. Även om vi återförenades för över 20 år sedan fanns det fortfarande mycket outtalat, och kanske mycket som vi inte visste eller förstod om varandra. Vi träffades personligen två gånger. Första gången var strax efter 9/11. Jag hade hans kontaktinformation i nästan ett år, men jag var inte redo att nå ut. När jag visste att han bodde i New Jersey, så nära NYC där tornen föll, kände jag en känsla av brådska att jag inte skulle slösa mer tid. Jag ringde en fredagskväll. Jag lämnade ett röstmeddelande om att jag hette Huyen och att jag trodde att han hade varit en vän till min familj i Vietnam. Nästa morgon ringde han tillbaka till mig.
Under de första sekunderna av vårt samtal sa jag mitt namn igen, sa vem min födelsemor var och sa: "Jag tror att du kan vara min födelsefar." Omedelbart, utan att tveka, sa han: "Det tror jag att jag också är." Det var en enorm gåva till mig. Inget förnekande. Ingen defensivitet. "Jag trodde att du och din mamma hade dött."
Han hade fått veta av en arméförbindelse att min mamma hade dött när hon försökte ta sig till Thailand och att jag hade dött i Babylift-kraschen. Han sa att han hade velat gifta sig med min födelsemor, men han fick inte det eftersom hennes familj ursprungligen var från norr.
Det kändes så overkligt att äntligen få den här informationen, ett litet fönster in i vad som hade hänt. Inom några veckor var jag på väg till östkusten med min adoptivfar, min man och min 17 månader gamla son i släptåg. Jag var ungefär två månader gravid med min dotter då. Min födelsefar och hans fru hälsade oss välkomna på en restaurang, med en kram och blommor i handen. Efter middagen var de nådiga och bjöd hem oss på cannoli och en chans att besöka mer.
Hemma hos mig var jag glad över att träffa min halvsyster, som också var mamma till en ung son. Min födelsefar tog fram ett fotografi av mig, förmodligen vid ungefär 2 års ålder, en ren kopia av ett trasigt foto som min födelsemors syster hade hållit fast vid i 20 år i Vietnam. Vi gjorde aldrig DNA-testning; den här bilden som de båda hade sparat var bevis nog. Min födelsefar gav mig också ett guldkors som min födelsemor hade gett honom innan han lämnade Vietnam, för att skydda honom på vägen hem. På samma sätt, när min födelsemor tog mig till Friends of the Children of Viet Nam i Saigon för att överge mig, hade hon satt en St. Christophers medaljong på ett snöre och knutit den hårt runt min hals, för att skydda mig i mitt nya liv. Att ge mig fotografiet och korset kändes generöst och omtänksamt.
Under det kommande decenniet checkade vi in med jämna mellanrum via brev eller telefon. När vi skulle träffas personligen igen var jag änka, en ensamstående mamma till två unga tonårsbarn. Efter att ha förlorat min man kände jag igen en viss brådska att se till att mina barn skulle träffa sin biologiska farfar. Och återigen, min födelsefar var nådig när han sa ja till min begäran. Vårt besök var sött och barnen tyckte att han och hans fru var roliga och snälla. Innan vi åkte gav min födelsefar oss ett utsmyckat serveringsset som han hade tagit med sig från Vietnam.
Efter det besöket skedde mycket av vår kommunikation via Facebook, med enstaka kommentarer på varandras inlägg. Facebook gjorde att vi kunde se aspekter av varandras liv på ett väldigt naturligt sätt. Jag fick en liten uppfattning om hans humor, hans kärlek till fiske och modelltåg. Facebook råkar också vara det primära sättet att hålla kontakten med min födelsemor; vi FaceTime och hon ser mina inlägg och fotografier.
Jag ville inte skriva något om min födelsefars död på Facebook förrän jag hade möjlighet att FaceTime min födelsemor i Vietnam för att meddela henne. Under det första besöket med min födelsefar 2001 berättade han för min pappa att min födelsemor hade varit hans första kärlek. Det här var en gåva att höra, även att känna till det sorgliga resultatet för dem, eftersom det på något sätt bekräftade min födelsemors tro att han skulle komma tillbaka för oss. Hon väntade i åtta år.
I min återföreningsvideo med min födelsemor (fem år innan jag hittade min födelsefar) sitter vi vid mina morföräldrars matbord. Hon strålar mot mig, med en arm runt mig, och skrattar säger hon, "Beaucoup kärlek skapade dig! Ja, beaucoup kärlek skapade dig." När hon tittade på mig såg hon honom. Hon pekade på mina ansiktsdrag och sa: ”Samma! Samma!" Det verkade ge henne glädje, att se honom i mitt ansikte.
Jag var nervös för att ringa henne ikväll för att berätta nyheterna för henne. Jag bad min kära vän Suzie att gå med i samtalet för att hjälpa till att översätta. Jag talade på engelska, "Min födelsefar har dött. X dog. Jag är så ledsen." Och genast lät hon ut ett sorgset rop. Även om min födelsemor så småningom gifte sig och fick fem barn till – grunden och glädjen i hennes liv – hade min födelsefar en speciell plats i hennes hjärta som hennes första kärlek. Under ett år i sina unga liv hade de älskat varandra mycket.
Suzie hjälpte till att översätta detaljerna som jag har hört tidigare. Det var krigstid. Det fanns inget de kunde göra för att vara tillsammans. 50 år senare är min födelsefars bortgång en förlust för min födelsemor. Som troende katolik ber hon för honom nu. Det var mycket jag inte visste om min födelsefar, och jag skulle fortfarande vilja veta mer, men jag kan också vara ifred med det jag vet.
För tillfället förblir jag grundad i den tacksamhet som jag känner för att ha hittat honom, tacksamhet för att han kände igen mig och tacksamhet för de möjligheter jag hade att få kontakt med honom och hans familj. Jag ber en bön för hans fru och familj när de navigerar i denna förlust.
Följande bloggserie kommer att tillägnas vår Söker i Intercountry Adoption serier. Dessa individuella berättelser delas från vår Perspektivpapper som också delades med våra Webbseminarium, Searching in Intercountry Adoption by Adoptee Experts.
I was adopted from Zhejiang, China to Ontario, Canada in 1996 when I was 8 months old. In one of my adoption documents, it says, “Our institution has looked for her parents and relatives by all means, but no trace can be found.” To this day, I still know nothing about my biological family.
About 5 years ago I decided to act on my growing curiosity about my birth family. While I know the odds of finding them are very slim, especially because I don’t have any information to go on, I couldn’t help but at least try. The first step was a 23andMe DNA ancestry kit, gifted to me by my mom as a Christmas present. I carefully read the instructions in the box to make sure I did everything correctly, then sent off my saliva sample. My sister, who is also an adoptee from China, did one too. And then we waited.
I remember being eager to get the results back because of the hope of having a DNA match with someone else in their database. At the time, the waiting period was about 6-8 weeks. Though after 2 months, instead of my results, I got an email with the subject line, “Your 23andMe Analysis was unsuccessful.” I was told that “the concentration of DNA was insufficient to produce genotyping results.” Luckily, I was sent a replacement kit and got a second chance to submit another saliva sample. Having followed the instructions correctly the first time, and without any further guidance on how to do things differently, I repeated the same steps and sent my sample once again.
After another long 2-month wait, my heart sank as I read the same email subject line as the last one. Except for this time, they would not be sending me another replacement kit. The email explained that because of “the second low DNA failure” and there being “no additional steps that would increase the chance of success,” a full refund would be available to me. I was shocked and saddened by the news and confused too. I had done the exact same thing as my sister, yet she received her results back after the first attempt.
When I told a friend about the situation, she suggested I lightly chew my inner cheeks before spitting into the tube because buccal cells have a higher concentration of DNA. Determined to give it one last shot, I purchased another 23andMe ancestry kit with the refund they gave me and followed my friend’s advice. The saying, “third time’s a charm” held true in these circumstances because, after another 2 months, my third sample was a success!
All this waiting only heightened my anticipation, which probably contributed to my slight disappointment when I saw that I had no close relative DNA matches. It’s been 5 years now, and while I have over 900 distant relatives, all with less than 1% DNA shared, the number of close relatives is still zero. I have also since uploaded my raw data to GEDmatch and still no luck.
Another search method I’ve tried is adding my information to a birth family search poster specific to the province I was adopted from. I did this 3 years ago through International Child Search Alliance (ICSA), a volunteer group of adoptees and adoptive parents. Their province search posters are shared widely on Chinese social media and in the past, they partnered with Zhejiang Family Seeking Conference and ZuyuanDNA for an in-person event.
Getting my information added to the poster took about 3 months, partly because of the time it took me to make a WeChat account, gather the necessary information, and translate some of my adoption paperwork. The other reason for the timing was that ICSA’s update schedule for province search posters is three times a year.
Through the WeChat group for my province, I was able to connect with a woman from Zhejiang who wanted to help overseas adoptees. With great thanks to her, I was able to get my information on Baobei Huijia (Baby Come Home), a Chinese site run by volunteers to help find missing children.
I learned of GEDmatch, ICSA and Baobei Huijia through the online adoptee/adoption community, which I discovered across various Facebook groups in 2018. Connecting with other adoptees and adoptive parents who are further along and more experienced in the birth family search journey has been extremely helpful.
My mom has also been a huge help in her own efforts of searching for resources and information about birth family searching. Though most of all, her complete support for me throughout this process is what matters most. She hopes that I can find my biological family and relatives because she knows how important it is to me.
We have discussed taking the next step of hiring a root finder or searcher. Though once I began to seriously consider this method, it didn’t seem like the right time. One searcher that my mom had reached out to in 2020 said that because of the COVID-19 pandemic, foot traffic was not as high as it used to be, and therefore paying for physical posters to be distributed in my city or province in China may have even lower chances of bringing about any success.
Also, the process of hiring a searcher or organisation seemed quite daunting to me because it is hard to know whom to go with and which services to pay for. Packages greatly differ in terms of how in-depth the search process is and prices can easily be hundreds of dollars. And at the end of the day, the odds of finding my birth family, even with professional help, are very low.
I do plan to go back to China one day for a heritage trip and would incorporate searching for birth family into that. While my active search efforts are paused for now, this is a lifelong journey, so I can pick back up whenever I want to. It’s nice to know that through my other initial search methods, the opportunity for a match is always possible, even without me doing anything.
However, I do worry that by waiting to pursue additional active search methods, I might be making the process more difficult the longer time goes on. I don’t know if my orphanage has any adoption paperwork other than what I currently have and would hate for those documents to be destroyed. I also fear the possibility of birth family members dying, especially biological parents and grandparents. This thought crossed my mind when COVID-19 cases and deaths were high in China.
On the other hand, I don’t know if I’m emotionally prepared for the can of worms that can come with more intensive searching and then a possible reunion. I know of adoptees who contacted their birth families, only to be rejected. Then there are others who have very complicated reunions and relationships. Though even considering the endless possibilities and the fact that I might never fully be ready, I still think searching and finding something unexpected is better than knowing nothing at all.
My advice to other adoptees who are considering searching for their birth family is to make sure you have a solid support system to lean on during this process. I also recommend personally reflecting on your motivations for searching and what you want to get out of it. Lastly, do your research on search options and leverage the existing resources and lived experiences of others who are already familiar with this. I recommend joining the CCI Birth Parent Searching and Reunion Group on Facebook for any Chinese adoptees looking to start this journey.
Thanks for reading and best of luck to my fellow searching adoptees!
