My Journey of Self Discovery By Guest Author Elizabeth Mija Stanley

About the author: Elizabeth, aka Mija, traveled with The Ties Program when she was 15 years old. She wrote this essay for her college entrance exams, and recently

Elizabeth Mija Stanley

updated it for a college English paper. She is currently 28 years old, attesting to the fact that the trip is a “beginning” or a day of birth as Mija states in her opening, and that adoptees continue processing it’s effect for a lifetime.

My Journey of Self Discovery

I remember the day I was born. Opening my eyes, for what seemed like the first time, I was a naïve fifteen years of age and three thousand miles from home. As I stepped off the airplane and placed my foot on unfamiliar ground, I sensed, almost instantly, I was about to embark on a journey of a lifetime.

As far back as I can remember, all I ever wanted was to be white. As hard as I tried, I could never accept the fact that I was Asian. Being adopted at four months old into a primarily white society only reminded me every day of how different I was from everyone else. Lacking a connection with not only other Asians, but also my peers, I felt like an outsider. I can recall how uncomfortable and awkward I would be in a room with other Asians, feeling almost forced to act a certain way, and be proud of who I am. Unfortunately, that was not the case, and in my mind, I stuck out like a sore thumb.

I held this title of being an Asian-American-Adoptee, but I wasn’t quite sure I wanted to be one. As the years went by, I continued to feel like I didn’t belong because I looked so different from my friends and family. My adoptive mother would always entertain the thought of traveling to Korea together to “discover my roots.” A freshman in high school with a love for traveling and an open mind, I decided to give Korea a chance.

I really do think my heart skipped a beat when we landed at Kimpo Airport in Seoul, South Korea. My eyes bounced around the ice-capped mountains as they appeared to hug the cityscape. It was just surreal and beautifully breathtaking. My mother and I traveled with a group of adoptees and their parents, and each day, as we traveled around the country, we were educated on my motherland, its people, culture and beauty. We spent a very tightly scheduled two weeks exploring the mountains, the beaches, the great city of Seoul, capital of South Korea, and finally, my birthplace and orphanage in the city of Inchon.

After a whirlwind of surprisingly emotional and humbling experiences, I realized the anxiety of not belonging that I feared for so long, was no longer present.

As I embraced Korea as my second home, I began to see its people – that I had known so little of – were actually kind and compassionate souls. After not considering myself a part of anything, I now felt a part of both worlds. Soon after arriving home in the United States, I acquired extreme pride for being Korean, holding my head high, which was the complete opposite from the old me.

I secretly promised myself I would become more involved in all that was Korean, developing a passion for Korean music, food and entertainment, among other things. I had become fascinated in learning the language, and enrolled in a small school that taught me the basics, and eventually, I went on to teach myself a little further with the Rosetta Stone language program. I began my obsessions with Korean pop music, as well as Korea’s drama genre by watching many films with English subtitles. Over the years, I have had the pleasure of working and meeting many Korean people who have, without asking, educated me countless times on their culture (language, music, fashion, etc.). More recently, I have gone on a culinary path, and taught myself how to cook a variety of traditional Korean dishes.

Overall, I believe I have become a better, more content Asian-American-Adoptee, someone who I would’ve idolized and been able to go to when I was looking for guidance all those years ago. Every day, as I learn more about myself and where I come from, I become more proud of who I am and who I am about to become.

My life has changed dramatically since my journey of self-discovery.

Citizenship is Sticky

Recently I was working on passport and visa information for one of our new programs.  My assignment was to draft a letter to explain the visa application process to parents.  We consulted Embassy websites. We connected with people and sent emails for clarification.  Laws and standard operating procedures appeared incongruent and frustrating, to say the least.

At the heart of the matter is citizenship.

For this particular country, in order for adoptees to return for a visit in their birth country, they must first “officially” renounce the citizenship of their birth country.  Sometimes, when  adoptive citizenship is obtained, the adoptee automatically loses this birth country’s citizenship.  The matter is settled at that point. But in some countries, before an adoptee can visit this birth country for an adoption heritage journey, they must first put in writing that they renounce their birth country’s citizenship. A slap in the face if I ever saw one!  As an adult adoptee, I found myself having great trouble drafting the letter to explain this to families.

I resisted having to say to another adoptee that citizenship renouncement is necessary for them to continue their adoption journey.

I started wondering about my own citizenship from my birth country–Colombia.  Lately on Facebook group message boards, much has been posted about my own birth country starting to enforce a law that was passed years ago.  Or has it?  Anecdotes posted about adult adoptees having to get a new passport before they can return to the United States have not been validated by official country press releases.  I would love to return to my country again soon but if these anecdotes are true and common, what a messy proposition to go through!  Perhaps these people unfortunately happened upon a grumpy official that day.  Whatever the case, citizenship issues are sticky because, in my opinion, they force you to choose between one identity and the other, when I suspect, many adoptees feel they belong somewhere in the middle.

During my homeland journey in 2006 I experienced very mixed feelings.  I had hoped that when I landed on the soil of my birth country I would feel at home.  I would feel that I finally belonged somewhere.  I had not anticipated that I would realize how American I truly am!  I was disappointed that my feelings were so confused.  Although I had fantastic emotional experiences with my family during our trip, I came home with many more questions.  It took at least three years to come up with the words to explain how I feel.  My conclusion: I feel adopted.  For me, saying that I am adopted explains the middle ground or even gulf between two citizenships, the liminal space, as sociologists would call it.  Adopted, for me, means not quite feeling like every other American and not quite feeling like I belong in my birth country.  I have become more comfortable in my own skin, realizing what words to use, but it took a long time and much reflection.  This is why I experienced such discomfort asking other adoptees to choose their citizenship before they may be ready.

Passport and visa preparation for the homeland journey is just one  phase of the adoption story.  I hope parents and children can have honest and sensitive dialogue about the citizenship issue.

I would like to hear your thoughts about citizenship.  Remember that no one will be judged here so let’s have a conversation.

Homeland Travel Reactions of the Kids, Nico’s Story

By Guest Author Molly Kaye, aka Mom

Vietnam Ties

I love the look of adoration in our guide's face--it's like he's infusing Nico with pride

Nico and I returned from his birth country in January, and Nico headed back to school. Since our return, his teacher has commented how different he seems. She says he is participating more eagerly in class and is more open and engaging. He was always a popular and charismatic kid, but now he seems more confident and self-assured.

He presented the videos we made to his class, and did very well. His teacher asked him if he would be willing to present his adoption video, the compilation I made from ten years ago when we took the adoption trip, and he eagerly nodded and said, “YES!” It is amazing to me that he is now so willing to put his adoption story front and center in his classroom! That is definitely a change. Not that he was secretive about it before, but sharing that aspect of his life wasn’t something he sought out opportunities to do.

He’s now very proud to be Vietnamese, wears his Ho Chi Minh shirt everywhere, and has a big Vietnamese flag on his bedroom wall.

I think Vietnam was mostly an abstraction before the trip. He now sees his genetic and cultural heritage in context, and though he doesn’t want to live in Vietnam, he wants to go back and find the woman who cared for him in the orphanage, to know her, to express his gratitude to her, since, in his words to me, “She is the closest thing I had to a mother, besides you.” Indeed she is.

Nico Ingebrand, age 10, and his mom Molly Kaye traveled with Vietnam Ties.