I am not a traitor

Why should I feel like a traitor for having the hope that both of my families could one day come together? Why should I feel like a fool for desiring that both sets of parents would have mutual respect and consideration for one another? Why should I feel like I am asking for too much to wish that both sets of parents could acknowledge the crucial role of each part in my existence?

Why should I feel like a terrible person for experiencing hurt and pain that none of the above is happening?

It’s as though my expressions of longing for a day when my American family and my Korean family could sit in a room together are treated as ludicrous, naïve, insensitive, and selfish. This harsh treatment of what seems to me a very natural desire pierces me in the deepest places of who I am.

It’s not as though I am not already aware of the obstacles that such a hope will face. It is not as though I am not already drowning daily in the dissenting arguments and disagreements that people so readily pour out.

“Well, your parents come from a generation when people who adopted never expected to have to deal with the biological parents. You need to understand this.” Yes, thank you, I am fully aware of this fact. Remember, I’m the adoptee who has had to live with this truth on a daily basis. Remember, I’m the adoptee who continues to have to manage the consequences of decisions that were made for me, over which I had no control. Oh, don’t worry, I understand this more than you will ever know.

“You can’t expect people to change so readily, especially at such mature ages.” Really? Okay, then, I suppose with that kind of thinking, we should just let racism and bigotry run rampant, and lower our expectations that people need to change even if they don’t want to change.

I know I am ranting a bit here, which is a divergence from my usual tone. But I’m really struggling right now. Quite honestly, I’m tired of people telling me how I should deal with my adoption. I’m so tired of people telling me what I need to understand about adoption. I’m tired of adoptive parents always being the ones who are defended, lauded and justified, while I get pushed around, smothered, and consistently misunderstood.

Listen, it’s not that I don’t absolutely love my parents. I also happen to admire and respect them. I'm not saying that they are not wonderful parents. By ranting here, I'm not discounting all that they have done for me over the years. As far as I am concerned, I adore them and always will.

But why do I feel as though I always have to add a disclaimer to almost everything I say? Why is it that if I have any type of criticism regarding how adoption is viewed and treated, it automatically negates the very clear truth that I have expressed repeatedly—that I love my American family and would never want to be without them. But just because I love them doesn't mean that I am not hurt by the great chasm between my American and Korean parents--all the more so because I love them. Just because they love me does not mean that I am not pained by their passive and silent resistance toward my Korean family--all the more so, because they love me, and my Korean origins are a part of me.

[I do feel compelled to clarify, however, that my American parents are incredibly loving and have been supportive in their own way of my "reunion" with my Korean parents. They even contributed a considerable amount of money toward the cost of the first trip to Korea, and even took me back to visit Korea when I was 10 years old. Their resistance toward my Korean family I believe truly is because they love me and feel so protective of me and of our relationship. I almost feel guilty for posting this entry...and I hope that if any of my family should happen to stumble upon this that it will not be misinterpreted as an attack on their very real love for me. These are simply the realities of post-reunion, but they should not be misconstrued as a reflection of an absence of love...]

Are we as human beings perfect? Do we not make mistakes that result in pain and suffering? Am I permitted to share what I feel only as long as I attach to it warm, fuzzy feelings?

I. Am. So. Tired. So tired of always feeling like I’m the bad guy in all of this. So tired of feeling like I’m the one who did something wrong by wanting to know my origins. I’m tired of feeling like the one who has to defend myself. I’m so tired of feeling like I’ve committed a crime against my American family for wanting them to know my Korean family.

How many times do I have to explain that I did not search for my origins to find a new family? How many times do I have to justify that what I am doing is normal, natural, and NOT wrong. Why is it so unacceptable to want my American parents to meet my Korean parents and vice versa?

Those of us who are married have all kinds of in-laws. Are these in-laws a threat? (Generally-speaking, no.) It’s generally accepted that once we marry, our family expands to include our spouses’ parents, siblings, uncles, aunts, cousins, nieces, nephews, etc. Can we not have a similar view of adoptive and biological families?

Just as can be the case with in-law relations, I am not suggesting that such a transition will always be easy or simple or without complication. I’m not suggesting that it is not potentially emotionally challenging for all parties involved. But I am suggesting that it should be not only acceptable, but also viewed as normal, healthy, and natural.

Why am I treated like a crazy person for hoping that my family could also include, what? Some alien life form or the practice of polygamy? Nope. Just my actual biological parents.

Now, again, I realize that to do so is more complicated than to say so. But the fact that something is complicated does not therefore mean we should not attempt to do it.

So, please, don’t tell me what I need to understand about the complexities of adoptive families in post-reunion. Don't tell me what I should and should not expect. Don’t tell me that I need to be “okay” with the ongoing distance between my two families.

Don’t tell me that I just need to understand it.

I do understand it.

I have to live it.

But that doesn’t mean that I, therefore, am supposed to simply sit down and stick with the status quo. Understanding something doesn’t always mean leaving it be. Understanding often serves to compel us to action, to change, to doing something to improve the situation.

If you want to help, the most and the best you can do is simply to listen, and not try to "fix it" with remarks and statements that serve to do nothing but justify the brokenness of the status quo while diminishing from the very real pain and confusion that I experience.

I do realize, ever so clearly, the realities of my situation. I realize that it is very possible that things with my family may never change. But it won’t be because I didn’t try. It won’t be because I just shrugged my shoulders in resignation to be “okay” with it.

I know that ultimately I can’t force other people to change their minds, and I can’t make their decisions for them, nor do I want to do so. But I can change, even amidst obstinacy. And I can hope, even against all odds. So, don’t tell me what I can and cannot hope for, and what I can and cannot change by changing myself and working for change otherwise.

Cynicism and fear of disappointment won’t help or change a thing.

And I happen to be someone one who still believes in help and in change.

If that makes me crazy and a fool, then so be it.

[click here to read a related poem, Dissident]