Korean adoptees Kim Stoker and kim thompson left Korea five years ago after many, many years living there as artists, activists, writers and educators. But when it was time to leave, it was time. They sit down with podcast host, Kaomi Lee, who also moved back to the States from Korea during that same time frame. They talk about life back in the US, the adjustments and tradeoffs, how to not confuse memories with romanticism, and why the door back to Korea is never closed. This episode excerpts from a podcast, “We Have White Names.”

The topic of mothers has been a sensitive one for Korean adoptee Corissa Saint Laurent, 48. She lost her natural mother at the age of three, and her adoptive mother years later, after her parents divorced. She sought solace in alcohol as a way to numb the pain and fight feelings of abandonment. It wasn’t until she faced becoming a mother herself that she decided she had to change her life. It was also the time that she set out to find out the truth about her origins, and embarks on an unbelievable search for her eomma.

Bjarte Aarland, 45, says he’s always had pride in being Korean. Even if standing out for being different wasn’t valued in wider Norwegian society. Aarland talks about the complexity for many Korean adoptees in Norway, a country descendant from Vikings. And of being asked the ultimate question by his biological family: Was his adoption worth it?

Audio available May 3, 2022 at 7 am ET (US).

What if you only discovered you were adopted in your 30s? Kristen Choi, 33, or 최우경, learned the truth about being adopted from Korea only a year ago, and is still unpacking what this new information means. Choi is figuring out how to embrace a new identity as an adopted person, as well as exploring the adoptee community for the first time. 

Jakob Sandersen, 54, is at a crossroads. A Danish pharmacist with a family living outside Copenhagen, he might otherwise be content. But the pull of Korea, his native country, has long been present. With his education and knowledge, he has opportunities to relocate and work in Korea. But something holds him back. 

Kimberley Lee, 38, says she’s always felt very Aussie growing up in suburban Sydney, Australia. Her Korean roots seemed as faraway as the country itself. But in recent years, she’s realized the importance of connecting that past to her present. 

For so many Korean adoptees, little if any information is ever known about one’s biological family, either because of empty case files, redaction of information because of Korean privacy laws that protect the relinquishing family or even less-than-helpful Korean adoption agencies that might not notify an adoptee that their family was looking for them. But what if one had a quasi-open adoption, where your adoptive father had met your biological mother and she was always known to you? That is the life story of Han Yong Wunrow, 27, who shares more about the unusual adoption story, and even more unusual that his white adoptive parents made Korean culture and interest in the Korean diaspora so central to their own lives. 

Korean Quarterly is mentioned in this episode.

Ray Trom, 46, survived trauma that no child should have to experience, first after his parents died leaving him with abusive relatives, to being relinquished to an orphanage with a brother he barely knew, learning to fend for himself from abuse from other children. At age 12, he was adopted to Minnesota and thrown into an American school knowing little English. Through it all, Trom found his path in life and has felt both gratitude and loss, helping him to become the person he is today.

Mixed-race Korean adoptee JoYi Rhyss, 51, shares her story of grief and forgiveness. Her pain starts in Korea, where she lived with her Korean mother until age nine, but always aware she might be sent away because her dark skin meant she didn’t belong. Her journey took her to one of the whitest areas of the U.S. — in a rural Minnesota town with Norwegian heritage where she felt othered and desperately wanted to fit in. Rhyss’s journey of self-hatred and survival took her down a sometimes destructive path but she ultimately found how to embrace her Blackness and to accept herself. 

Justin Snyder, 35, is a dreamer and a seeker.  He was adopted from Korea as an infant by parents in West Virginia and grew up in a small town only to now have traveled the world in search of meaning, spirituality and innovative thinking. Snyder embarked on his own adoptee journey in 2016 when he traveled back to Korea to attend The Gathering and learn more about his origins.