Some Cultural Insight

This morning, I took part in a company held diversity training workshop as part of my on-the-job training. It was meant to be a few exercises in tolerance, diversity, and understanding one another better, but I came away from it with a couple of new thoughts about my cultural identity that I felt I should share here.

The first exercise of the morning was designed to break the ice and get us thinking. The instructor laid a piece of tape along the floor, dividing the room in half. We were supposed to stand on one side of the line if we agreed with a statement he read, and supposed to stand on another side if we disagreed. The statements were vague items written to be open for interpretation. Culturally speaking, the other participants were very diverse and their input was enlightening. I see myself as having a unique view about culture (well maybe more confused than unique) due to the fact that I was adopted and have missed out on my culture for most of my life.  

The question that triggered my thought process didn’t actually have a lot to do with culture. The trainer asked “Does the way you were raised affect how you deal with things in the work place?”

My answer was undeniably a huge yes.

My life has been shaped by my losses and my triumphs. For a large part of my life, I was a sad, confused, lonely girl. I have used my experiences to learn and grow into a young woman who is finally starting to figure things out on her own. I believe the trials I have weathered have led me to be a strong individual. I also know the lack of Korean culture and the loss of my natural family has forever marked me in an irreversible way just as my adoptive family have forever changed me.

Recently I’ve struggled a lot with my racial identity. Who am I? How do I be Korean when I don’t even remember Korea? How do I balance and shift between White Katie and Korean Katie? Is it possible to navigate between two cultures that are not really mine?

I can’t be Korean Katie as she would have been had I not been adopted. I can’t be White because that is not my race. It does not belong to me, it’s borrowed from someone else. So who am I supposed to be? A combination of the two things I can never be, no matter how hard I try?

No. It really shouldn’t be that hard. I should not be damned to a life of confusion.

In my mind I have reconciled my Korean heritage by the belief that I am my mother’s daughter. Come what may, I am always hers. As long as her blood runs through my veins, I am her daughter. I am Korean. That is something that cannot be taken away. My mom, my family, my birthdate, and my culture were taken, but my Korean-ness cannot be taken. Even though it is not something conscious, it is always there, waiting for me

I also am undeniably American. I love America. I really do. The core values of hard work, determination, freedom of speech, and perserverance are all things I strongly believe in. I have cried on the fourth of July, moved, as the flag was raised and fireworks celebrated the tenacity of the people who fought so that I, among millions of others could be free. I love the mish mash of cultures and ideals and the beauty of such a great country where anything is possible. America is something I may not have experienced had I not been adopted and it is a silver lining in a sad situation.

The only way for me to be true to myself, is to be mindful of both who I was when I was born, who my ancestors are, and where I began, and also of the good and bad experiences I have come through as a pretend white girl. Both of those things are pieces of me. They are beautiful shards of broken glass that put together a reflection of who I am.

The answer is not as simple as I would have liked, not at all cut and dry. I still have a long way to go with realizing fully who I am and where I belong. But I am one step further, one little bit more at peace with myself.

In the Matter of Race…

I answer a lot of Q and A on Yahoo! Answers as “Kateiskate” in the adoption section. I usually check and see what new questions have popped up overnight when I have some free time at work.

This morning I opened up the adoption section of Y!A and clicked on a question titled “Does the Phrase ‘Open To’ make you want to hurl?”. I read the answers and most of them said pretty much everything I would have answered. I almost didn’t answer the question at all until I saw this answer:

“No, it doesn’t make me want to ‘hurl’ as you so eloquently put it. I am an adoptee, and I was adopted into a very loving and caring family at the age of 9 months, and the fact that I was adopted into an ‘interracial’ family makes me feel all the more special! My mother adopted four of us from all walks of life, including another child (who was 8) from Vietnam (like myself). The fact that she had enough love in her heart for ALL of us makes us feel very grateful for the opportunities that we were provided with. It seems that the people with ‘issues’ regarding race, age or disabilities are the ones who ‘see’ and are perhaps prejudice themselves about ‘these’ people. I myself, see myself as Australian, no more and no less. The fact that I ‘appear’ as an ‘Asian’ doesn’t make any difference to my friends and family, my culture is English/Australian and I fit in EXTREMELY well in society. I don’t feel that I’m any ‘less’ a person for not knowing (or wanting to know) about my ‘heritage’, my mother always encouraged all of us to seek this, if we felt that we needed this to ‘fulfill’ ourselves. My ‘heritage’, as far as I’m concerned, is English/Australian. And yes, I AM grateful that I was adopted, because that makes me AND my family special! We were very much wanted!!!”

Wow. Seriously? PUKE PUKE PUKE. Talk about wanting to hurl! That answer was full of all of the stupidest stereotypes of things “grateful” adoptees are supposed to feel. This kind of thinking is what holds us back from getting in touch with who we really are and smacks of industry brainwashing. You know, the whole “Love conquers all, race doesn’t matter, love your child enough and they won’t care to search” bullshit they teach people because it sounds good.

 I also just feel downright SAD for this girl. I was there myself not too long ago. I was the QUEEN of denial! I too thought that my family’s Italian heritage was my own and pretended as though the Asian part of me did not exist. There has never been a more confused Asian chick than me. Looking in the mirror was a shocking experience for me, as was experiencing racism. I was so put off by these things because it’s easy to start to believe you are white, that you are the same as your family.

Okay so, tell me this: if IA parents are so awesome and have so much loooove for kids of other races, why are a lot of them (especially the old school ones) always forcing their culture on their kids when their kids already HAVE a culture? Doesn’t it seem as though if you were really REALLY tolerant, you’d be proud of your kid’s heritage and teach them to be proud of it also? There’s nothing wrong with being different. In fact, in today’s society, diversity is a good thing! Something to be proud of!

Yes, you may think you are English/Australian but because you “appear” to be “Asian” you will be treated as such and are forced to identify as that in society. . The thing about believing you are “English/Austrailian” even though you “appear to be Asian” is that you are the only one who thinks you are English/Australian. Every one else sees you as Asian because that is what you are. Believe me, I know how difficult of a thing that is. It’s one of the sucky parts of being adopted. Looking in the mirror and seeing some Asian chick instead of the white girl you know yourself to be is confusing.

When people look at me, some of them see a stereotype, some of them see a girl who comes from an ancient and beautiful culture. You can’t see how terribly out of touch with my own culture that I am right off the break. Those things are deeper and not easily visible from the surface. My race doesn’t fit neatly into a little box I can check when I fill out a survey because my race is a little bit beyond me. Yes, I am Asian, but it feels like only the outside is. The outside is the only part the world cares about. I have no culture because I will not claim a culture that is not my own, and I will not pretend that I am fully Asian because I am not.

Race is a difficult thing when you are a transracial adoptee. There’s a fine line you walk between being alienated from your family and being alienated from your culture. You can’t go too far in either direction. It’s easy to see that you don’t belong with your family. The fact that your mother abandoned you is part of every family picture and every family outing. My biggest source of pain is on parade for the entire world to view. “Oh she must be adopted” people will say. “I wonder why her mother gave her away.”

Yes I’m adopted. And I guess that makes me special. Big whoop.

My adoptive parents wanted a child. There’s no denying that. But as much as they wanted me (or any baby) it can’t ease any of the pain of not being wanted by the one person who should love me best.

For one day I would like to know what it’s like to be a non adopted person with regular issues.