So my life has been less than perfect recently.
But last night I got a 98% on my quiz, and I feel pretty confident about the mid-term next week - so despite everything else going on, my education hasn't been squandered. And besides, I know that through and through, I will make it to see the rainbow at the end of all this, just as I have done those dozens of times before.
Work has been alright, bearable. Just tedious, but I guess that's how work is supposed to be.
Overall, I'd say I am having an okay day today. It's Friday. Gotta go home and reclean my room - I have piles of junk everywhere and I know half of those bills are old that are in that upper drawer. Plus, I want to finish my laundry before the guys come home and put their smelly stuff in.
More later though...after work possibly. There's a dead on story I gotta share about my history teacher. :-)
Friday, March 9, 2007
Thursday, March 8, 2007
*Gasp* You're...Korean?!
Yep, it happened again, folks. Another case of mistaken ethnic identity.
Not that I have ever really cared unless someone said I was Vietnamese (since my cousins through marriage are Vietnamese and have been nothing but trouble for me) to which I would half-smile out of politeness and grit my teeth to reply "no" for them to second guess correctly: Korean.
I think that as most Korean-adoptees there is something distinctly different with how we view ourselves on the racial borderlines. I remember writing my college essay about how my racial identity was like the line that is found in the dollar bill only when you put it up to the light. You can't see it otherwise, and when you do see it, it divides the bill in a most unbalanced way. That was always me.
Perfectly unbalanced in every way. I straddled this line between American and Korean for a long time before becoming who I am now. I used to fight to use the word "Korean" whenever describing myself, as if from right off the bat when any one would ask "Where are you from?" I had to join the defensive lines and wear my Hanbok with a chopstick full of kimchi in order to be heard.
Now, I am content and without hesitation to say, "I am Korean."
And yet, somehow, this news always seems to come as some sort of shock for people. Despite my long and emotional fight with my identity internally, externally - people tended to see what they wanted to see and at first I found it kind of odd, and ironic, and sometimes funny.
But in the past few years it's become one of the most disturbing aspects of the "intro" conversation (you know, the one where you say "Hi, my name is....oh, nice to meet you! Yes, well I was raised in Towson with my parents and I have two dogs and two bunnies. I like take-out Chinese"...etc, etc.). Primarily because it has once again taken a twist on the ethnic boundaries that I had drawn for myself.
Last night, while having a conversation with (yes, none other than a Korean person) a friend, he stopped in mid-thought and paused, "Wait...are you Korean?"
Okay, forget that for the past 20 or so minutes I had fondly referred to close friends of mine as "oppa" or "unni" and forget that I had answered the phone by saying "yoboseyo" and asked "mo he?" and called him "babo" minutes before. All of that didn't seem to matter to him - my Korean linguistic skills could not match with his curiousity to see otherwise.
Me: "Uhh...yes, I'm Korean" ...What I wanted to say is "OF COURSE I AM!" but I figured that might be a bit pretentious.
Him: "Oh...really?" There is shock here, a bit of surprise which in turn, made me surprised myself that I was Korean.
Me: "You didn't think I was Korean?"
Him: "I wasn't so sure. I mean, I didn't know."
Me: "I see."
The conversation drifted onto another subject and for the next five or so minutes we were thralled in the verbal jousting on subjects such as his business, my work, how his parents were, etc. But my own curiousity to see what exactly prompted him to question so suddenly my ethnicity gave way.
Me: "Hey...um, what did you think I was all this time?"
Him: "Wha? You mean your ethnicity?"
Me: "Yeah, you know, what was your first guess?"
Him: "Like, what did I think you were when I first saw you?"
Me: "Sure."
Him: "I thought you were Chinese...but then I said 'no, she can't be Chinese.' So then I thought maybe Laotian...you look sorta Laotian."
Hmmm...Laotian. God, Mee-Bear would have loved to have snuck in on this conversation. (And then in floods memories of me standing there in front of his cousins, and uncle saying "jao mi ken koi?"....What a great first impression!)
The whole mistaking me for something else is acceptable. I have never been seen as Korean for as long as I can remember. I have always been seen as Vietnamese, Chinese, Filipino or Polynesian or Japanese. I guess what's really irking me is what came next in the conversation...and what has ultimately come up in every "intro" conversation I have had lately when talking to another Korean, Korean-American, Asian-American, or anyone for that matter.
Him: "I don't know. You think maybe you're mixed? You never know...what with being adopted and all."
Alright, yep, right there. Stop right there. Did you just say you think maybe I am mixed? Wait, no you didn't even say you thought I was mixed, you said maybe I think I am mixed. And then you try to sway and justify your conclusion on my racial ethnicity by stating that it's (oh my God, gonna use it...it's that word - that...word.... a...a.... a...) ADOPTION that probably left me mixed.
And what's worse is this epidemic has not just been within my recently found acquaintances but into my close friends as well.
"Well, Em, geesh, you do have a darker complexion than us."
"Remember when you were younger you had wavy hair? You still have a little wave naturally. That could be the answer."
I'll admit. When I was younger, and even in the more recent past I have been known to tease MYSELF about possibly being mixed, because in pictures I looked darker than my friends, and in summer while my Korean friends would turn a darker yellow, but still remain sort of light, I'd stand out with my Honduras friend like a sore thumb. But it was all in good fun, and I never blamed my adoption for it (save a few times, but even that was all just in good natured goofiness) but these people are serious!!
Don't get me wrong - there is NOTHING wrong with being hapa. Jeeesus, if anything hapas are the hottest creatures in the world. They are gorgeous babies (I know a few hapas that I could name right now that are, by far, the cutest damn babies I have ever seen) and they make even gorgeous people. But to say that my "unknown" hapa-ness is from my adoption, and to have everyone in my life trying to ethnically draw lines around me is sort of frustrating.
Sure, I don't know where I come from and my skin's a little darker, and my hair is a bit more wavier than the rest, but that doesn't make me 'hapa'. I might never know whether I am or not - but I just wish people would stop trying to answer the question for me - as if my entire happiness depends on it.
Because I was happy irregardless of who people thought I was, or wanted to think of me as - because through and through I knew I was that little yellow girl from Towson who grew to love that little line that unbalanced her perfectly between Korean and American.
Not that I have ever really cared unless someone said I was Vietnamese (since my cousins through marriage are Vietnamese and have been nothing but trouble for me) to which I would half-smile out of politeness and grit my teeth to reply "no" for them to second guess correctly: Korean.
I think that as most Korean-adoptees there is something distinctly different with how we view ourselves on the racial borderlines. I remember writing my college essay about how my racial identity was like the line that is found in the dollar bill only when you put it up to the light. You can't see it otherwise, and when you do see it, it divides the bill in a most unbalanced way. That was always me.
Perfectly unbalanced in every way. I straddled this line between American and Korean for a long time before becoming who I am now. I used to fight to use the word "Korean" whenever describing myself, as if from right off the bat when any one would ask "Where are you from?" I had to join the defensive lines and wear my Hanbok with a chopstick full of kimchi in order to be heard.
Now, I am content and without hesitation to say, "I am Korean."
And yet, somehow, this news always seems to come as some sort of shock for people. Despite my long and emotional fight with my identity internally, externally - people tended to see what they wanted to see and at first I found it kind of odd, and ironic, and sometimes funny.
But in the past few years it's become one of the most disturbing aspects of the "intro" conversation (you know, the one where you say "Hi, my name is....oh, nice to meet you! Yes, well I was raised in Towson with my parents and I have two dogs and two bunnies. I like take-out Chinese"...etc, etc.). Primarily because it has once again taken a twist on the ethnic boundaries that I had drawn for myself.
Last night, while having a conversation with (yes, none other than a Korean person) a friend, he stopped in mid-thought and paused, "Wait...are you Korean?"
Okay, forget that for the past 20 or so minutes I had fondly referred to close friends of mine as "oppa" or "unni" and forget that I had answered the phone by saying "yoboseyo" and asked "mo he?" and called him "babo" minutes before. All of that didn't seem to matter to him - my Korean linguistic skills could not match with his curiousity to see otherwise.
Me: "Uhh...yes, I'm Korean" ...What I wanted to say is "OF COURSE I AM!" but I figured that might be a bit pretentious.
Him: "Oh...really?" There is shock here, a bit of surprise which in turn, made me surprised myself that I was Korean.
Me: "You didn't think I was Korean?"
Him: "I wasn't so sure. I mean, I didn't know."
Me: "I see."
The conversation drifted onto another subject and for the next five or so minutes we were thralled in the verbal jousting on subjects such as his business, my work, how his parents were, etc. But my own curiousity to see what exactly prompted him to question so suddenly my ethnicity gave way.
Me: "Hey...um, what did you think I was all this time?"
Him: "Wha? You mean your ethnicity?"
Me: "Yeah, you know, what was your first guess?"
Him: "Like, what did I think you were when I first saw you?"
Me: "Sure."
Him: "I thought you were Chinese...but then I said 'no, she can't be Chinese.' So then I thought maybe Laotian...you look sorta Laotian."
Hmmm...Laotian. God, Mee-Bear would have loved to have snuck in on this conversation. (And then in floods memories of me standing there in front of his cousins, and uncle saying "jao mi ken koi?"....What a great first impression!)
The whole mistaking me for something else is acceptable. I have never been seen as Korean for as long as I can remember. I have always been seen as Vietnamese, Chinese, Filipino or Polynesian or Japanese. I guess what's really irking me is what came next in the conversation...and what has ultimately come up in every "intro" conversation I have had lately when talking to another Korean, Korean-American, Asian-American, or anyone for that matter.
Him: "I don't know. You think maybe you're mixed? You never know...what with being adopted and all."
Alright, yep, right there. Stop right there. Did you just say you think maybe I am mixed? Wait, no you didn't even say you thought I was mixed, you said maybe I think I am mixed. And then you try to sway and justify your conclusion on my racial ethnicity by stating that it's (oh my God, gonna use it...it's that word - that...word.... a...a.... a...) ADOPTION that probably left me mixed.
And what's worse is this epidemic has not just been within my recently found acquaintances but into my close friends as well.
"Well, Em, geesh, you do have a darker complexion than us."
"Remember when you were younger you had wavy hair? You still have a little wave naturally. That could be the answer."
I'll admit. When I was younger, and even in the more recent past I have been known to tease MYSELF about possibly being mixed, because in pictures I looked darker than my friends, and in summer while my Korean friends would turn a darker yellow, but still remain sort of light, I'd stand out with my Honduras friend like a sore thumb. But it was all in good fun, and I never blamed my adoption for it (save a few times, but even that was all just in good natured goofiness) but these people are serious!!
Don't get me wrong - there is NOTHING wrong with being hapa. Jeeesus, if anything hapas are the hottest creatures in the world. They are gorgeous babies (I know a few hapas that I could name right now that are, by far, the cutest damn babies I have ever seen) and they make even gorgeous people. But to say that my "unknown" hapa-ness is from my adoption, and to have everyone in my life trying to ethnically draw lines around me is sort of frustrating.
Sure, I don't know where I come from and my skin's a little darker, and my hair is a bit more wavier than the rest, but that doesn't make me 'hapa'. I might never know whether I am or not - but I just wish people would stop trying to answer the question for me - as if my entire happiness depends on it.
Because I was happy irregardless of who people thought I was, or wanted to think of me as - because through and through I knew I was that little yellow girl from Towson who grew to love that little line that unbalanced her perfectly between Korean and American.
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Hump Day
Happy Hump Day, folks!
Surprisingly, I am actually attempting to get some work done today but I am failing miserably...tonight I have work on studying for midterms and I have had a lot of extra personal issues on my mind that are just bugging the crap out of me. I think it's just not having the answers to half of my questions that is making life completely unbearable.
Despite the crappy/slightly optimistic outlook (yes I know that was very ironic of me) that I have right now, the snow is definitely not helping. What happened to early spring? What happened to that, eh, you dumb groundhog?!
Surprisingly, I am actually attempting to get some work done today but I am failing miserably...tonight I have work on studying for midterms and I have had a lot of extra personal issues on my mind that are just bugging the crap out of me. I think it's just not having the answers to half of my questions that is making life completely unbearable.
Despite the crappy/slightly optimistic outlook (yes I know that was very ironic of me) that I have right now, the snow is definitely not helping. What happened to early spring? What happened to that, eh, you dumb groundhog?!
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
It's Hard Losing A Friend...
Haha, man, this totally made my day today. :-)
Tomorrow is Bump-Hump Day~! :-)
"It's A Beautiful Thing"
"Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care?
Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?
Will I lose my dignity? Will someone care?
Will I wake tomorrow from this nightmare?" - Rent
Everytime I feel terrible, I just put on one of the tracks from "Rent" and feel ten times better. One, music is my life, and one of the very few things that come what may, truly helps me get through all the bad times and the good times. Two, because any musical infested with the soulful songs preaching about "La Vie Boheme" is worth being addicted to. Three, like I was talking with MB right before she left FMB, sometimes if you listen very carefully to all the tracks - you can hear Julia projecting at the top of her lungs, or reciting every single word at perfect pitch and timing to Maureen's classic theatrical performance of "Over The Moon".
Regardless, this is the track that popped on Shuffle on my iPod first thing this morning, thus this is how I will start my day - the happiness that things could be so much worse than they are right now and that I have amazing people in my life that if I look close enough or just open my eyes, were there all along and are helping me through the bumps - just by being my friends. So thanks to all of you! :-)
Monday, March 5, 2007
Mondays & Other Idle Ramblings
What is it with Mondays? Seriously. I don't think that it would make such a difference if the weather patterns didn't correlate with how I feel so damn much.
For instance, this past weekend = GORGEOUS! The sun was shining, we had clear skies, birds were singing - yada, yada, yada (Perfect weather for a beautiful baptism, by the way.) But now...it's Monday again and what?! It's freakin' cold as ever outside. Freakin' wind chills, freakin' slight overcast. What's up with that? My only consolation this morning was a slight hint of sunshine piercing through the clouds and reflecting off the building. But did I feel that sunshine's warmth? NO! Of course not.
So what lesson have we learned from the weatherman? Well, nothing extraordinary or anything like that. Mostly what we already knew which is that: weekends = awesome weather for an awesome, relaxing period of two days and weekdays = nasty, cold, dismal days in which we head back to the grind to sit on our asses and ...well, write blogs all day. (:-))
Besides that I have to write this paper on the establishment of the Maryland colony and its downfalls and all that bologna. Is this kind of knowledge really going to help me when I become a P.A.? Unless I am consulting my patient who just happens to be a descendant of the Calvert family, probably not. It's truly ridiculous and if the teacher wasn't so damn cool then I'd truly procrastinate until the night before and just write crap on a page. But I feel like, hey, the dude is 85 years old (yes, that's right I have an 85-year old teacher), I should at least give him the decency of a well-written paper.
Although, his cool factor totally went down a notch when he was handing out topics for our term paper and he gave me "The Life and Times of Dolly Madison" (Okay, insert a WTF?! right here) Dolly Madison? What did she ever do for this country besides be James Madison's wife? (Okay, wait, I am sure she did some terrific accomplishments in her time but it's not like she's Adams' wife who started those - Jeeesus, what were they called? Some kind of house where the lower class could stay...wasn't that it? Haha, can you tell I am quite the history buff?) So I asked him to give me another topic, for his sake and mine.
He said alright, what about "The Glorious Revolution in England and its effects on Maryland"?
...Okay, I'll take that one. Begrudgingly, but I'll take it.
Thus, back to the monotonous grind that is ...the work week. Behold! All you memos, money transfers, advances and office supplies! 'Tis another five days of your hell being bestowed upon me so that I may pay my bills.
For instance, this past weekend = GORGEOUS! The sun was shining, we had clear skies, birds were singing - yada, yada, yada (Perfect weather for a beautiful baptism, by the way.) But now...it's Monday again and what?! It's freakin' cold as ever outside. Freakin' wind chills, freakin' slight overcast. What's up with that? My only consolation this morning was a slight hint of sunshine piercing through the clouds and reflecting off the building. But did I feel that sunshine's warmth? NO! Of course not.
So what lesson have we learned from the weatherman? Well, nothing extraordinary or anything like that. Mostly what we already knew which is that: weekends = awesome weather for an awesome, relaxing period of two days and weekdays = nasty, cold, dismal days in which we head back to the grind to sit on our asses and ...well, write blogs all day. (:-))
Besides that I have to write this paper on the establishment of the Maryland colony and its downfalls and all that bologna. Is this kind of knowledge really going to help me when I become a P.A.? Unless I am consulting my patient who just happens to be a descendant of the Calvert family, probably not. It's truly ridiculous and if the teacher wasn't so damn cool then I'd truly procrastinate until the night before and just write crap on a page. But I feel like, hey, the dude is 85 years old (yes, that's right I have an 85-year old teacher), I should at least give him the decency of a well-written paper.
Although, his cool factor totally went down a notch when he was handing out topics for our term paper and he gave me "The Life and Times of Dolly Madison" (Okay, insert a WTF?! right here) Dolly Madison? What did she ever do for this country besides be James Madison's wife? (Okay, wait, I am sure she did some terrific accomplishments in her time but it's not like she's Adams' wife who started those - Jeeesus, what were they called? Some kind of house where the lower class could stay...wasn't that it? Haha, can you tell I am quite the history buff?) So I asked him to give me another topic, for his sake and mine.
He said alright, what about "The Glorious Revolution in England and its effects on Maryland"?
...Okay, I'll take that one. Begrudgingly, but I'll take it.
Thus, back to the monotonous grind that is ...the work week. Behold! All you memos, money transfers, advances and office supplies! 'Tis another five days of your hell being bestowed upon me so that I may pay my bills.
Friday, March 2, 2007
Congratulations, Toby Dawson!
2007-03-01
Breaking News: Toby Dawson Finds his Father
Seoul, South Korea (Ski Press)-In the coolest story of the day department, the Associated Press reports that former US freestyle skier and 2006 Olympic bronze medalist Toby Dawson has found his father.Dawson, who retired from professional skiing last spring, was famously asked more questions about his adoption than about his medal after winning Olympic bronze. That news played heavily in South Korea, where Dawson was lost in a South Korean market more than 20 years ago. Later adopted in the US, Dawson has sorted through dozens of false claims of parenthood. It is only now, according to the AP, that through genetic testing and background research into the claims, that Dawson was able to finally meet his family.According to the AP, Dawson and his father, Kim Jae Su, embraced, "and Dawson said a Korean phrase he had learned for the meeting - "I've been waiting a long time, father.""
For more: http://www.sptimes.com/2007/03/01/Worldandnation/Olympic_success_helps.shtml
St. Petersburg Times Article:
Olympic success helps skier find dad
By ASSOCIATED PRESSPublished March 1, 2007
SEOUL, South Korea - Far from the mountain where he skied to Olympic fame, Toby Dawson found his family.
More than two decades after he was lost in a South Korean market and eventually adopted in the United States, Dawson was reunited with his father Wednesday.
They embraced, and Dawson said a Korean phrase he had learned for the meeting - "I've been waiting a long time, father."
Hugging his son at a hotel, Kim Jae Su teared up.
"I am glad to meet my son and see that he has grown up so wonderfully," Kim said. "I am thankful that he has come to look for me even after such a long time."
The reunion, which included a brother, was made possible by the bronze freestyle skiing medal Dawson won at the Turin Olympics last year. The victory earned him wide attention in the country of his birth.
After the Olympics, dozens of would-be parents came forward to claim Dawson was their child, including Kim. But after years of dashed hopes, the 28-year-old Dawson put off an earlier planned trip to Korea and waited for confirmation from genetic tests before traveling here this week.
Dawson was 3 when he was lost in a market by his mother in the southern port city of Busan, Kim said. A truck driver at the time, Kim said it was too late when he got home to start searching for his missing child, whose original Korean name was Bong-seok. Over the next few days, he said he scoured local orphanages but was unable to find his son.
"I went to many orphanage houses only to hear that they didn't have anyone like him. They wouldn't let me come inside and look for him," the 53-year-old Kim said, adding he searched orphanages whenever he had time but eventually gave up.
"I'm not here to beat him up for what happened," Dawson said, adding that he had a fortunate life growing up with his adoptive parents, who were ski instructors in Vail, Colo.
Dawson said he plans to use a new foundation he is starting to help avoid cases like his in the future.
"Being caught in limbo between two different countries and not looking like your family is going to be tough," he said. "We need to try to keep our children and work a little bit harder to keep these circumstances from happening."
Dawson noted how he shared his healthy sideburns with his father, who during the news conference reached over several times to touch Dawson's face while they also held hands.
Kim declined to talk publicly about Dawson's biological mother.
[Last modified March 1, 2007, 01:11:48]
There were so many articles written about Toby Dawson reuniting with his biological father this week. And I pretty much have read every single one of them.
There was this huge emotional mix-up while reading all the articles, and hearing what each news article had to say.
One: I was happy for Toby. It's this closure to the biggest chapter in an adoptee's life and he had found the ending of that chapter, and the beginning to a whole new one.
Two: I was sympathetic immediately, and was overjoyed when Toby was quoted as saying that growing up he found it very difficult, like "living in two very different worlds". So many adoption agencies and adoptive parent groups keep saying that the child will get over it, the child will adapt and assimilate. But it's not that easy. It's never going to be. To have someone in the media spotlight state that outright is amazing to me, especially with all this Angelina-Brad Pitt-Madonna crap going on.
Three (and this is the one that is the hardest for me to admit): Jealousy. Just sitting here reading the story, and how Toby hugged his father and spoke to him in Korean - wow, well I don't know what else to say besides the fact that I wish it was me. It's hard for anyone who isn't an adoptee to fully understand - especially my parents - but I just felt this tinge of pain in my heart because there is this huge loss there that I will never be able to fill. I won't even say "until I meet my birthparents" because who knows? What if it isn't as successful as Toby's journey? Not everyone's is. But just the thought that at least he knows something is enough for me to feel jealous - that I don't have anything. As far as I know, my whole life history could be fictitious.
I feel bad that I felt jealous and still do a little. I am not sure how to explain how my feelings about my birth search has changed over the years from when I was a little girl, staring into the mirror and touching the features of my face: my eyes, my mouth, the shape of my jawline and wondering which one was my mother's and was that my father's nose? to being an adult, and not worrying so much about it anymore - and yet being completely and utterly aware of the void that comes with not knowing.
I am still scared of the search process. Not that it is difficult or tedious or anything like that. Moreso for my personal reasons, the emotional journey that it would entail from me. I realize that the journey would strip me completely if I let it, and I am not certain that I am emotionally strong enough for that yet. I do know that it is something I want to pursue, and when the time comes, it'll happen. But for now, I can be happy that a fellow KAD found his truths to end one chapter and begin another.
Breaking News: Toby Dawson Finds his Father
Seoul, South Korea (Ski Press)-In the coolest story of the day department, the Associated Press reports that former US freestyle skier and 2006 Olympic bronze medalist Toby Dawson has found his father.Dawson, who retired from professional skiing last spring, was famously asked more questions about his adoption than about his medal after winning Olympic bronze. That news played heavily in South Korea, where Dawson was lost in a South Korean market more than 20 years ago. Later adopted in the US, Dawson has sorted through dozens of false claims of parenthood. It is only now, according to the AP, that through genetic testing and background research into the claims, that Dawson was able to finally meet his family.According to the AP, Dawson and his father, Kim Jae Su, embraced, "and Dawson said a Korean phrase he had learned for the meeting - "I've been waiting a long time, father.""
For more: http://www.sptimes.com/2007/03/01/Worldandnation/Olympic_success_helps.shtml
St. Petersburg Times Article:
Olympic success helps skier find dad
By ASSOCIATED PRESSPublished March 1, 2007
SEOUL, South Korea - Far from the mountain where he skied to Olympic fame, Toby Dawson found his family.
More than two decades after he was lost in a South Korean market and eventually adopted in the United States, Dawson was reunited with his father Wednesday.
They embraced, and Dawson said a Korean phrase he had learned for the meeting - "I've been waiting a long time, father."
Hugging his son at a hotel, Kim Jae Su teared up.
"I am glad to meet my son and see that he has grown up so wonderfully," Kim said. "I am thankful that he has come to look for me even after such a long time."
The reunion, which included a brother, was made possible by the bronze freestyle skiing medal Dawson won at the Turin Olympics last year. The victory earned him wide attention in the country of his birth.
After the Olympics, dozens of would-be parents came forward to claim Dawson was their child, including Kim. But after years of dashed hopes, the 28-year-old Dawson put off an earlier planned trip to Korea and waited for confirmation from genetic tests before traveling here this week.
Dawson was 3 when he was lost in a market by his mother in the southern port city of Busan, Kim said. A truck driver at the time, Kim said it was too late when he got home to start searching for his missing child, whose original Korean name was Bong-seok. Over the next few days, he said he scoured local orphanages but was unable to find his son.
"I went to many orphanage houses only to hear that they didn't have anyone like him. They wouldn't let me come inside and look for him," the 53-year-old Kim said, adding he searched orphanages whenever he had time but eventually gave up.
"I'm not here to beat him up for what happened," Dawson said, adding that he had a fortunate life growing up with his adoptive parents, who were ski instructors in Vail, Colo.
Dawson said he plans to use a new foundation he is starting to help avoid cases like his in the future.
"Being caught in limbo between two different countries and not looking like your family is going to be tough," he said. "We need to try to keep our children and work a little bit harder to keep these circumstances from happening."
Dawson noted how he shared his healthy sideburns with his father, who during the news conference reached over several times to touch Dawson's face while they also held hands.
Kim declined to talk publicly about Dawson's biological mother.
[Last modified March 1, 2007, 01:11:48]
There were so many articles written about Toby Dawson reuniting with his biological father this week. And I pretty much have read every single one of them.
There was this huge emotional mix-up while reading all the articles, and hearing what each news article had to say.
One: I was happy for Toby. It's this closure to the biggest chapter in an adoptee's life and he had found the ending of that chapter, and the beginning to a whole new one.
Two: I was sympathetic immediately, and was overjoyed when Toby was quoted as saying that growing up he found it very difficult, like "living in two very different worlds". So many adoption agencies and adoptive parent groups keep saying that the child will get over it, the child will adapt and assimilate. But it's not that easy. It's never going to be. To have someone in the media spotlight state that outright is amazing to me, especially with all this Angelina-Brad Pitt-Madonna crap going on.
Three (and this is the one that is the hardest for me to admit): Jealousy. Just sitting here reading the story, and how Toby hugged his father and spoke to him in Korean - wow, well I don't know what else to say besides the fact that I wish it was me. It's hard for anyone who isn't an adoptee to fully understand - especially my parents - but I just felt this tinge of pain in my heart because there is this huge loss there that I will never be able to fill. I won't even say "until I meet my birthparents" because who knows? What if it isn't as successful as Toby's journey? Not everyone's is. But just the thought that at least he knows something is enough for me to feel jealous - that I don't have anything. As far as I know, my whole life history could be fictitious.
I feel bad that I felt jealous and still do a little. I am not sure how to explain how my feelings about my birth search has changed over the years from when I was a little girl, staring into the mirror and touching the features of my face: my eyes, my mouth, the shape of my jawline and wondering which one was my mother's and was that my father's nose? to being an adult, and not worrying so much about it anymore - and yet being completely and utterly aware of the void that comes with not knowing.
I am still scared of the search process. Not that it is difficult or tedious or anything like that. Moreso for my personal reasons, the emotional journey that it would entail from me. I realize that the journey would strip me completely if I let it, and I am not certain that I am emotionally strong enough for that yet. I do know that it is something I want to pursue, and when the time comes, it'll happen. But for now, I can be happy that a fellow KAD found his truths to end one chapter and begin another.
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