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“Sisters… Are Doin’ it for Themselves…”

For those who have read my blog for a while, they’d know that I have one sister. She’s two and a bit years younger than me and is my parents’ biological daughter. My sister and I haven’t always gotten along. Like most siblings, we’ve definitely had our good and bad times, but I’d say we’re pretty close now and I couldn’t imagine what my life without her would have been like. Looking back on my teenage years, I feel very sorry for all the things I would have put her through, but in a way I feel like it’s made us closer now: having been through some difficult times, at least we know that as siblings, we can weather quite a lot. =P It’s also great now: my family seems very harmonious and my husband really thinks of my sister as his little sister. He’d go out of his way to protect her as his sister, which is gorgeous. <3 So although the following post may come off sounding a little cold, please be aware that I have a sister that isn’t adopted. So I’m not wholly crazy in making this post.

In reading the blogs of adoptive parents and adoptees, it’s been somewhat interesting to see the different families that have been created through adoption. Our blogs so often seem to be very focused on the parent/child relationship, but it seems not a lot of thought is really given to the sibling relationship. Which – I think – should be just as important as the parent/child relationship: siblings are just as much a part of a family, right? My parents adopted me because, like many adoptive parents, they wanted a family. For whatever reasons, they were unable – at the time – to have biological kids, so they got me. And then my sister randomly and unexpectedly came along. Like I said, I couldn’t imagine what my life without my sister would have been like. I think that having a sister has taught me a lot, and as someone that is pretty closeted, anti-social and would prefer to spend her time in her own world, having a sister has been beneficial to me as a human being.

The one thing I wonder about some adoptive families, though is: why do they adopt internationally when they already have biological children? I’ve seen it claimed many times that it was “God’s intention for them to adopt”, or they thought it was “the right thing for them”, or even the dreaded reason of they wanted to “save a child from an ‘unfortunate’ and ‘disadvantaged’ country”. I guess this question is one that I don’t understand because my parents obviously didn’t adopt for the same reasons, and I can’t help but look at some of these families and question how a child of a very different racial background would feel having four or five older siblings, all of which are Caucasian. My ultimate question for them is: how do you think your child feels? You may justify your actions by saying to yourself and others: “but we took them out of such a disadvantaged place in the world, and we have so much wealth to offer them!” etc etc, but remember: your child likely doesn’t remember a whole lot about being “disadvantaged”. Even if you’ve adopted a child that’s two or three, how are they meant to look back on those years and think: ‘yeah, they sucked’? Even though I’m sure they’re going to have many wonderful times and experiences as a member of your family, they’re also going to have to deal with being the odd one out, and that’s what they’ll remember.

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Boys, Girls, Marriage… Adoption?

Firstly: sorry I keep changing the theme of this blog. I’m incredibly fussy when it comes to the way things look. If I was able to make my own themes, I would. But I suck at coding, so I’m left to use the themes that others have made. =P

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What parent doesn’t want their child to grow up and marry a wonderful person? Can any parent honestly say that they’ve never once had that thought: that they want their child/ren to grow up and find a member of the opposite sex that is wonderful and that gets along swimmingly with everyone and is just generally a great addition to the family?

Following on from a blog post made by Soo, I’ve been thinking a little bit about this. My Mum and Dad stayed at our place last night (since we recently got a spare bed. ), while they had a good time in Sydney during yesterday and today. Now, call me crazy, but I doubt they’d really want to do as such if they didn’t like or get on with my husband. As a side note, the boyfriend I had before Robert was a complete… loser (that’s the nicest way I can put it), and it would be an understatement to say that he didn’t really get along with my family. I couldn’t imagine them coming to stay as much if I’d (God forbid) married him.

I think it’s really easy for parents (adoptive or not) to say they’d be happy with anyone their child married/loved, so long as they loved them back, treated them well etc etc. Hell, I don’t have kids and I already want that for any that we do have in the future. If I asked my parents whether they would have minded if I’d married a guy that was Korean (or any other nationality aside from Caucasian), they’d probably say that it wouldn’t have mattered, so long as I loved him, vice versa etc. But really… does racial background really not matter?

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“Multiculturalism” or “Koreanism”? Or… Both?

In my last post here, Mica gave me a bit of advice that she was given. She said:

“Make sure you remember, though, that YOU ARE YOU. Not anybody you could have or should have been. You are here and now, blending all those identities, and that’s great. Embrace that and you’ll go far.”

I read that and sort of thought ‘yeah… easier said than done. What do you think I’ve been trying to do for… 26 years?!’. But I’ve been thinking about it, and maybe she’s right… I feel like for most of my life I’ve been trying to be either Australian or Korean. I’ve always just wanted to be one or the other, because I’ve always felt that it would be simpler, easier and that if I was one or the other I’d have something to identify with and to build my identity upon. I think that, when it comes down to it, this conflict that I’ve always felt is one of the things I hate about being adopted. Perhaps other adoptees are OK with being a mixture of both, but I’ve always struggled with it and I’ve always tried to fight it. But perhaps it’s time I… embraced it?

In thinking about this, I’ve been wondering: what is the “best” way to raise transracial adoptees? I’m obviously not going to be able to change the fact that I’m a mix of Korean and Australian, so what is best for raising young adoptees? Is it best for them to spend a lot of time with people of their racial heritage, or is it “simply” best for them to be amongst… people of all sorts of backgrounds?

One of the things I love about the people I work with and the office culture I work in is the mixture of people. We have a relatively small office. Including myself, there are… only nine of us. Out of those nine, only one is “purely” Australian. My boss is Canadian (and his wife is Greek), our marketing manager is Spanish, I’m well… me, my immediate colleague is Dutch (and his wife is Korean!), our events manager is Italian (and her boyfriend is Irish), two of the sales team are Indian, another sales member is a mixture of New Zealand and… a few other things, and the other sales person is purely Aussie. On Friday, my colleague brought in a whole batch of bulgogi that his wife and mother-in-law made. He cooked the whole thing in the office and even served it with rice and provided lettuce leaves to wrap it all in. It was a great afternoon. During lunch, we all spoke about having an International Food Day on Melbourne Cup day (they did it last year, too), where everyone brings in a dish from their own native background. I thought it was a great idea, especially since we’d all have something unique to add to the day.

What I loved about this was simply that we could all relate: despite the fact that we all come from various racial backgrounds, each one of us can relate to the fact that we’re all Australian, but we’re all also… something else. It was just a really good team bonding experience, and despite the fact that this was/is my work environment, I felt much more comfortable in it than I sometimes have within my own (extended) family and in-laws. Really, it came down to having an unspoken, yet very present understanding of one another, brought about by our differences but similarities. What’s more, is that it felt much more comfortable than whenever I’m around purely Korean people and society. It’s a no-brainer to say that although I feel naturally assimilated amongst people of Korean background, as soon as I open my mouth it becomes very obvious that I don’t fit in, and that’s something – I think – I will always struggle with when I’m around Koreans.

What’s more is the idea of just… being the odd one out. With my colleagues, things were good, because although we all originate from very different backgrounds, we all came together because we were all different. However, in most situations, based on my racial background, I’m often the inherent different one. Nothing ever needs to be said about it, but everyone knows it’s the truth. As usual, the perfect example is my husband’s family, all of which are “just” white Australian, making me stick out in the way we adoptees have always hated. It’s nice for once, to just… not be the odd one out: to be amongst people that are just as much a mixture of culture and identity as I am, adopted or not. And, for me, I found it really interesting to realise that these are the “types” of people I’m the most comfortable being around: people who are also a mixture of racial backgrounds and experiences. I’m not expected to understand every nitty gritty thing about Korean culture, nor am I expected to be “true blue Aussie”. I can just be… me: Korean, Australian, nerdy and… everything in between. Being around others who are just as mixed as I am is more comfortable than being around pure Koreans or pure Australians. Maybe it all just comes down to not being the odd one out for a change.

OK, excuse me. I have to go and do some shopping. We have no food in our house, and Robert and I are intending on making my Mum’s Indian curry recipe tomorrow.

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Protected: Reflecting on my Teenage Years

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Protected: The Danger of Assumption

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