Sunday June 22nd
This was our last morning in Seoul before heading out on our rural tour (to see the countryside of Korea).
We went to church because the tour I went with was sponsored by a company that has Christian values. The trip is not focused on Christianity. It is a small part of the tour. We did pray before many meals but the company was respectful of the fact that most people on the trip were not of Christian faith. Likewise, I was happy that, while most of the group was not Christian, we were all really respectful of the company's emphasis on their faith. The service was in English and everyone at the church welcomed us. I had one of the most touching moments of my trip during the service.
I was brought up in the Methodist Church. I went to Sunday school every Sunday with my mom. I went to Bible Camp and later volunteered there. I sang in the choir. I was a member of the youth group. I did morning bible study in high school. Up until I was 16, I was a very active member of the church. It was a place to see my friends. A ritual. A special time for me and my mom every morning. When I was little I would sit on her lap on stage while she sang in the choir. When she sat in the pew, she and I would write notes back and forth about how we would spend the rest of our Sunday. I had an older woman in church I would see every Sunday that shared my birthday. We had spaghetti dinners, bake sales, and special events. My friends and I played MASH when the sermon was boring. When I was older, I realized Christianity isn't for me but I respect the faith and I miss the community around my church.
The service we attended in Korea was a direct mirror to the service back home. Sing along songs, greeting your neighbor, prayers said aloud, and a choir in robes. They even had a string orchestra that was really great!
I was having a really hard time before I left for Korea. I had a lot of fear about what I might find there or what I might discover about myself- whether it be in the form of facts or emotions.
My therapist told me to think about the infinity symbol.
One side of it is the beautiful life I have had in America. My family, my friends, my accomplishments, my home, my identity as an American, my strong will.
The other side of it is the tiny baby in Korea. A mother who gave up her child. A baby in an orphanage mourning the loss of its mother and struggling to survive. An identity as a Korean woman that to me was just a grey silhouette that had no details. The accumulation of small remarks about being different, being foreign, being unwanted.
She reminded me that we can't stay on either side of those loops too long or we are denying ourselves the entire truth. If we pretend that we're happy all the time, we are denying the hurt we feel and have felt. If we stay lingering on the past, we'll fall into a darkness that denies the happiness we've experienced.
We have to move between both sides- hold both the happiness and the sadness. Honor both because they make you who you are.
This stuck with me my entire trip.
Being at that church, in my home country, seeing a choir full of Korean people in robes just like my mom in New York wore, singing the same songs I shared with her during my very happy childhood in the US tied those two worlds together for me and I cried with happiness.
It is easy to fall down the rabbit hole of 'what ifs' as an adoptee- especially while in Korea.
It is easy to forget your identity outside of being an adoptee.
You scan faces in a crowd- and you don't mean to but you think- Are they out there? Could the be on this street? Would I know if they were?
You see the babies in the orphanages and you see yourself.
You see mothers and fathers playing with their children in the park and think, is that what it would have been like?
You see people your age on the subway and think- do I blend in? Is that what I look like?
How would I have been different?
What if I stayed?
Would it have been as bad as they say it would have been for a child out of wedlock?
Is my mother thinking of me right now?
I'll never be completely Korean. I'll never be completely American.
Now that I have learned a little bit about Korea- about a culture that thought adoption was the answer, about the history of a country that has been through so much, after meeting so many kind, generous Korean people who wish for me to feel pride in who I am- it is easier for me to move between the two sides.
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