Category Archives: Adoptee Search and Reunion

ROC national day

My memoir!

Beyond Two Worlds: A Taiwanese-American Adoptee’s Memoir & Search for Identity is now live! If you have not yet purchased your copy, don’t delay. I have a few books left, and signed copies can be purchased right here on my website. Just click on Shop to order. Kindle and hardcover editions are available via my author page at Amazon, and you can also find the book at Barnes & Noble, and Indiebound.org.

If you enjoyed reading the book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon, or wherever you purchased your copy. Unfortunately, I am unable to ship internationally; however, those copies can be ordered through Amazon and Barnes & Noble online. To learn more about the book and to read an excerpt, click here, and to read reviews, click here. Thank you for supporting Beyond Two Worlds.

Happy reading!

Pre-Order Your Book

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Hello out there! I’m very happy to announce that you can now pre-order your copy of my new book, Beyond Two Worlds: A Taiwanese-American Adoptee’s Memoir & Search for Identity. Please spread the word and encourage your friends and family to purchase their book on the Beyond Two Worlds website. Just click on the “Shop” tab above, which will direct you to PayPal. All books purchased through my website will be signed and autographed.

About the Book:

Born in Taipei, Taiwan, Marijane was adopted by an American military family at four months old. She grew up in a middle class neighborhood where hers was the only Asian face amongst a majority of white.

Raised to believe she was Vietnamese and Japanese, she never doubted what her adoptive parents told her, until one day, she found her lost adoption papers. This discovery unloosed secrets that had been buried for decades, causing her to question her own identity and origins. With brave determination, Marijane set out on a journey to reconstruct her past and resurrect a birth heritage that had long been forsaken. Her journey took her halfway across the world to eventually reunite with her birth family.

Beyond Two Worlds is a poignant telling of one woman’s quest for identity and belonging despite insurmountable odds, and will be of help to those seeking connection to their original families.

Coming Summer 2017!

Read an excerpt from the book here.

a Korean adoptee’s search

what every adoptee longs to know

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When I was growing up in Louisiana, one of the questions I was most often asked by others upon learning that I was adopted was, “so who are your ‘real’ parents?” It was fairly obvious that I was adopted, as I looked nothing like my white parents. I had straight black hair, almond shaped eyes, and skin the color of my dad’s morning cup of coffee. I was usually annoyed by the question each and every time it was asked. My typical response was, “well my parents are my real parents.” My adoptive parents were the only parents I knew. The only parents I would ever know. I have no doubt that other adoptees encounter the same question and perhaps feel the same sense of annoyance.

What baffles me is that I was never curious about my birthparents or place of birth until about two years ago after finding my adoption papers, 40 years after my adoption. This ambivalence was perpetuated by the secrecy surrounding adoption at the time. My adoptive parents never ever talked about my birth heritage or birth family. Hell, I had never even heard the term, “birthfamily.” When I was placed for adoption, it was the beginning of the end of any connection to my birth country, to my birthfamily, to my cultural roots. After my adoption, all cultural ties were severed. I would never know that my birthparents were from China, but forced to leave the country and build a new life in Taiwan, that I had two older biological sisters and an older biological brother. I believe that my adoptive parents did everything possible to keep my past hidden from me, and for years, it would remain so. Then one day, the truth came out, or at least part of it. And when it did, it was the beginning of a new chapter in my life.

This afternoon, I went with some friends who are visiting from California to see a movie, “Philomena,” starring Judi Dench and Steve Coogan. It was a heartbreaking movie, although there was some humor between the characters that lightened things up. It is based on the true story of Philomena Lee, an Irish woman who, as a teenager, had a romantic fling with a boy at a carnival and became pregnant. Rejected by her own family, she is sent to a convent where she gives birth to a son, Anthony, and is forced to work with other young girls in order to work off the penance of their “sins.” The girls are allowed to see their children for only one hour a day. What is even more tragic is one day, Philomena watches helplessly as her three-year-old boy is taken away by a rich American couple without as much as a goodbye. The convent was in the business of selling babies to wealthy Americans and having the young mother’s sign contracts that they could never seek the whereabouts of their children. This abominable practice is historical, unfortunately. Fifty years later, Philomena is still tormented by the loss of her son and the desire to find him. She unwittingly connects with dejected political journalist, Martin Sixsmith, portrayed by Steve Coogan, who agrees to help her find her son, primarily for the tabloid possibilities of a human interest story. What follows is a tender story of loss, reconciliation, forgiveness, and ultimately acceptance.

I know some adoptees hated this film, but it really resonated with me, despite the creative license that was taken to make it more dramatic. The story of deep loss and grief was what hit me. The depiction of such a tremendous loss experienced by a woman whose child was taken away from her was so real. I felt the loss as if it were my own. So often adoption is portrayed as a happy event, yet rarely do we see the other side of adoption from the perspective of the birth mother who is forced to relinquish her child. One of the most memorable lines comes when Philomena decides to go to America with Martin Sixsmith in hopes of finding her son. Philomena says, “I’d like to know if Anthony ever thought of me…I’ve thought of him everyday.”

Since learning about my birthparents in Taiwan, I’ve often wondered if my birth mother ever thought of me. How can it not be so? Philomena answered this question for me. The separation between a mother who is forced to give up her child and the child who is relinquished causes a wound that is easily re-opened again and again. I will never know my birth mother. She and my biological father died before I had the chance to meet them. I have often wondered about her, like what her favorite color was, what kind of music she liked, what kind of personality she had, was she happy, did we bond at all while I was still with her? I was told by my sisters in Taiwan that she was a teacher, she enjoyed learning and classical music. Unbeknownst to her, my birth father, took me to the orphanage and relinquished me without her consent. I often wonder how it all happened, if he felt anything at all when leaving me at the orphanage to languish. My sisters tell me that our mother never talked about what happened, but it deeply affected her, emotionally and psychologically. When we met for the first time in Taipei, they gave me photos of our mother and father. I felt that there was such sadness behind my birth mother’s eyes.

Philomena eventually learns that the life her son attains after his adoption is much more affluent than anything she could have ever provided for him. She recognizes this fact and is happy that he grew up having opportunities that he would not have had otherwise. This is the reason why many adoptees are placed for adoption, including me. It’s quite the phenomenon when you are given everything you could possibly need and want, yet still feel a hole somewhere deep inside you, like there is a part of you that’s missing. It’s still there to this day. I’ve learned to accept it, or perhaps even ignore it so I can deal with life.

I think that many adoptees wonder why they were given up or abandoned. Questions like, “was it because I was unwanted, was it forced, was I ever thought of afterwards?” are not uncommon. Unfortunately, many adoptees will never know the answers because of a lack of documentation, abandonment or falsification of records. Finding my birthfamily brought me one step closer to the truth and to answering some of those questions. Yet, the whole truth is still so elusive. I will always have questions about my birthparents and my birthfamily. Answers are not so easy to come by.

In the movie, Martin Sixsmith quotes T.S. Eliot toward the end of Philomena’s journey,

“The end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.”

I thought how very apt this quote was. Philemona started her journey at the convent and, in the end, returns to it. My journey began in an orphanage in Taiwan. Two years ago, I returned to the city of my birth to be reunited with my birth/first family. I arrived at the place where it all started, yet only just began to know the place for the first time. Though I will never be able to meet my birth mother, I believe that she thought about me. There is no longer any doubt in my mind.

we are family

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I’ve been in Taipei just shy of one week now. So much has happened in the past 5 days. As much as I’ve wanted to keep a daily journal, I’ve just been too tired and busy to keep up. It’s a good kind of tired and busy though. Below is a recap of my first day in Taiwan.

The journey to Taiwan begins on Saturday, January 15th. I feel amped up and nervous about leaving my family behind, but once I get to the Seattle airport, I feel a bit more calm. I Skype my husband and daughter, and they seem fine. Around 10:30 pm, I notice a woman who looks like Tien arrive at the gate and immediately go to introduce myself. She’s the miracle worker (with the most effervescent personality) who has been instrumental in helping me find my birth family in Taiwan. We arrange to have seats near each other and get acquainted while waiting to board the plane. At last, boarding begins, and we make our way up to the top deck. I’m glad that Tien is here and that we’re traveling together. It’s around 1:00 am. Once airborne, the flight attendants start a meal service, not a snack, but a full on meal. Really, at 1:30 am? I’m not really hungry, but I eat anyway. It doesn’t take long for everyone to start snoozing. I sleep for most of the flight. Although it’s a 13-hour trip, time seems to pass quickly to my amazement. Another meal is served about 2-hours before we are to land. What bizarre times to eat! The Taiwanese woman sitting next to me strikes up a conversation and from then on doesn’t stop! She is giving me all kinds of advice about Taiwan after I explain to her why I’m visiting. She is leaning in towards me as close as she possibly can without bumping my head and continues to poke my sore left arm where I recently got a tetanus shot. I try to lean away the other way. She and her husband are very nice, but I’m glad when the flight attendants announce that we’re preparing for landing, a welcome distraction. The air turbulence doesn’t even bother me as we begin our bumpy descent toward Taipei. I can’t help but grin as we get closer to our destination; the anticipation of meeting my sisters growing. I gaze out the airplane window at Taipei City below. A thousand tiny specks of light illuminate the curvy highways below.

Finally, we touch ground; it’s around 6:30 am Taiwan time. I want to shout a really loud yahoo, but decide to keep it to myself. We wait impatiently for the plane to come to a complete stop at the gate. Once the signal is given, I gather my stuff and make my way into the crowded aisle. I feel like I’ve been stuffed into a can for the past 24 hours, and it’s nice to stand up. Tien tells me to go ahead of her, as she has to wait to get her carry on. We trudge off the plane and head straight to the money exchange window, fill out arrival cards and wait in the queue for the next available representative. Everything goes quickly and smoothly, and to my surprise, I don’t feel a bit tired. Next, downstairs to baggage claim and to meet my sisters! As we near the airport lobby, I immediately recognize my older sister. She and my 2nd sister are holding a white banner with big blue letters saying, “Welcome, Marijane.” I hurry over as fast as I can despite being weighed down by a set of heavy luggage and give each one a big hug. Our smiles are big enough to light up the entire city of Taipei. Tien and my sisters introduce themselves and exchange conversation, and I get caught up in the chatter of Mandarin and laughter. My older sister shows me pictures of our mother and pa-they’re mine to keep. She has also made a CD of pictures of our pa in his later years and gives this to me. I study my sisters’ faces. They both look so much alike, but do I look like either of them? My second sister tells the other something in Mandarin, and my older sister says to me, “she thinks you resemble our mother.” But after seeing both of our parents’ pictures, I think I look more like our pa in his younger days; same eyes and nose. Wow. Now I finally know what my biological parents look like. Soon, my older sister begins to take photos. I can’t seem to find my camera, but she reassures me that she’ll send me all of her pictures. I’m told that our brother is not physically well and will not join us until the dinner with the whole family on lunar Chinese New Year, January 22nd. I immediately notice the affection between my two sisters; they’re only one year apart in age. Now they have extended their affection toward me, little sister by 10 years. I’m amazed at how warm and welcoming they are, as though we’ve known each other our whole lives.

After a half hour or so of talking together, we decide it’s time to head for my hotel, about an hour’s drive away. My oldest sister first gives me a hand phone in a cute little red case and a diamond studded handle complete with charger for me to keep during my visit. She puts it inside another little case for safe keeping. They have thought everything through and are so organized! Older sister explains how to use it and makes sure that I know which number is hers and my other sister’s. She takes charge and both sisters wheel my luggage outside toward a long line of other people waiting for taxis. They banter back and forth in Mandarin. Once a taxi becomes available, we climb in and my sisters encourage me to close my eyes and rest. I’m too caught up in the moment to go to sleep though. So we talk most of the ride to the hotel. Once we arrive, my sisters help me check in, and we head upstairs to my room. They shower me with gifts, pineapple cakes packaged beautifully, a thermos, an umbrella, and a small knife for cutting up fruit. They insist on making sure I get some rest and leave shortly thereafter only to return to hand me some cash. They don’t take no for an answer either!

At 6 pm, they come by to take me to dinner, a nice Chinese restaurant not far from the hotel. They come bearing more gifts, fruit and specialty cookies famous in Taiwan, which the bell person offers to take to my room. We get into another taxi and head to the restaurant. After a quick drive through the crowded downtown streets, which continually abound with taxis, cars, and motorcycles, we arrive at the restaurant and are ushered upstairs to dine. My 2nd sister orders for us, and we talk about how my search for them first began. The food arrives quickly, one course after another, and is very delicious. Suddenly I feel like I’m 10-years old again as my sisters see to it to keep adding more food to my plate once it appears near empty. I’m stuffed by the time dinner is over. After dinner, we go back to the hotel room, and I show them the photo album that I put together of my adoptive family.They ooh and ah over my baby pictures, and my oldest sister comments on how alike both my adoptive father and our pa look. I totally agree!

It’s been an amazing day, and again I don’t feel the least bit tired. Maybe it’ll hit later on. It’s very surreal to be here in Taiwan, to have finally met the 2 sisters who looked after me at the babysitters after school. They were only 10 and 9 years old when I was born. Both tell me that they used to hold me when visiting the babysitters’. Interestingly, while we are looking at the photo album, my oldest sister recognizes a woman holding me in some of the pictures; it is the babysitter! How very amazing – another piece of the puzzle fits into place. My sisters do not overstay so that I can get some rest. Tomorrow there will be 2 interviews with 2 different newspaper reporters who are interested in our reunion story. My sisters decide not to be in the interview in order to protect their privacy. Before I even arrive, both have been contacted by the news reporters and are quite shocked. I respect their wishes. Tien will be there to translate. Oh, what a day it’s been, a joyous reunion to remember! My sister’s have made a schedule for our time together. It will be like trying to cram in a lifetime’s worth of being apart into 2 short weeks. It’s all an adventure!

happy new year

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As we close 2011, I am ecstatic that the search for my birth family has finally ended in actually finding them. It was in November 2009 that I first began the search. I had gone to see journalist, Mei-Ling Hopgood, author of “Lucky Girl” on November 1, 2009, where she was giving a book signing at the Phoenix Public Library. She was also adopted from Taiwan by a white-American couple and reunited with her birth family at the age of 23. Her book inspired me to forge ahead with my own search and gave me hope that perhaps it was possible to find my birth family. I was referred to Tien, a social worker, around that time by an adoptive mother from FCC (Families of Children from China), and from there the rest is history. I have saved nearly all of my correspondences with Tien and other people who were referred to me over the past couple of years in the hopes of one day, creating a timeline.

The best part of 2011 is now being able to correspond with my oldest sister. I received the first email from her this past Wednesday morning before work. I was overjoyed. My sister’s English is really good, much better than my Mandarin. She told me a little about my older brother and other sister and that they each have grown children. She also said that when they were little, they were good at painting and music. We all share some artistic abilities! We continued to email each other up through Friday. With each email I learned a little more about my birth parents and the circumstances that led to my adoption. My sister tells me that I resemble our mother and that our father was quite handsome. I’ve always wondered if I looked like any of my sisters or birth parents. I so look forward to meeting all of them soon.

I’m happy that this evening, we are joining some friends to celebrate New Year’s. Our friends adopted a little girl at 15 months from China nearly 3 years ago. They were at our home on Christmas Eve and were some of the first people to hear the news that Tien had made contact with my oldest sister in Taipei. All of this seems surreal, and yet I know that I’ll be in Taiwan soon. It’s been difficult to concentrate at work because I’m preoccupied with all the emotions of at long last finding my biological siblings. I’m on cloud nine.

My Mandarin tutor taught me a new word today: Wǒmen yǒuyuán (我们有缘). It means “have fate” or “we are destined.” My sisters, brother, and I are fortunate to have good fate, the kind that brings people together. I feel so lucky to celebrate New Year’s here with good friends and onward to celebrate Chinese New Year with my birthfamily in Taiwan.

christmas miracle

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It’s Christmas Eve. We have guests staying with us from out of town, and this evening we have a houseful of friends and kids over for dinner. The day has been full of catching up with old friends and running around here and there. Now, our kitchen is a buzz of conversation and laughter as everyone mingles together and loads their plates full of holiday fixings. In all honesty, I begin to feel a little overwhelmed by the houseful of people and noise and decide to steal upstairs for a few minutes of quiet. I log onto my computer to check my emails. Earlier today, I sent Tien an email to wish her a merry Christmas. Tien has been helping me with the search for my birth family. I’m happy to find an email from her in return. Her email begins, I have the greatest Christmas gift for you. As I continue reading, she tells me she has received an email from my oldest sister in Taiwan! I can hardly believe it! “You have two older sisters and one older brother,” Tien tells me. She has corresponded with my sister and has told her that we’ll be in Taipei in January. Tien includes my sister’s email response to her. She tells Tien that she just received letters from the Household Registration Office today learning of my search for her and my other siblings. She writes,

“To my greatest pleasure that my youngest sister(黃筱玲) is now very well in USA. and she will visit Taiwan early next year.

Though we family members missed for almost half century, like a broken kite line. Thank God, we finally find each other in our life time. Isn’t it a miracle?”

I’m in tears and cannot believe that we have found my sister! She mentions that she will tell my brother and other sister about me and my trip to Taiwan. From her email, it appears that she speaks and writes in English, unless Tien translated her email, but I don’t think so. I run downstairs to share the news with our friends and my own family. I’m so happy that my sister wants to meet me! They remember me! I feel the same way she does, thank God that we have finally found each other in our life time. It is truly a miracle.

Without Tien’s help, none of this would be possible. She wasn’t kidding when she said she had a great Christmas gift. Tien has been a miracle worker, and God has truly answered my prayers. I thank all of you who have also sent up prayers!

I send my sister an email back directly, as she included her email and home and hand phone numbers. I wonder how I should begin, how to introduce myself. Finally I just begin by telling her, “I’m your youngest sister” and that Tien has sent word to me that she’s contacted her. I tell her a little bit about myself and family and how happy I am that she wants to reunite. I hope that my email sounds okay and appropriate.

My sister ends her email to Tien with this,

“…And I think we all are happy for the greatest gift of God, our reunion” and sent Christmas wishes to us all. It is the greatest gift of God to have the opportunity to finally reunite with my birth family. I’m still soaking in the news, full of anticipation. I will be able to meet them soon. I’m amazed at how everything is falling into place. Our goal to contact my sister before leaving for Taiwan has happened! Though I was prepared to go to Taiwan with no news about my birthfamily, as I bought my airline ticket blindly, I’m grateful that it did not come to that. It’s nothing short of a Christmas miracle.

letter sent

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Tien and I have been exchanging several emails in preparation for our trip to Taiwan. She has been helping me with a number of different things, which I am extremely grateful for. Most recently, she penned a letter in Mandarin addressed to the Registration Office in Taipei City explaining that I’m searching for my birthfamily and asking them for their help in this search. She revised the letter a couple of times and had me send it back to her once I signed it. I have been printing, signing, and scanning the letter with each revision then sending back via email to Tien. After the third revision, she felt it was just right. In the letter, Tien provided her contact info and asked that, as my translator, they contact her with any information per my permission. Our hope is that my birth sister’s address will be released to me once they see the accompanying documents that prove that I’m related by blood. Yesterday, during my lunch break, my co-worker, Jewel, and I headed to the post office to mail the letter along with copies of my adoption contract and baby passport to prove that I’m a true member of the family Huang. As we walked up to the post office, Jewel mentioned that she hoped there wouldn’t be a long line. It turned out that there was a very long line of people waiting to mail Christmas packages and letters. I began to worry that we wouldn’t have enough time to mail the package. Jewel noticed a self service kiosk when we first walked in and stood in line for me so I could go check it out. Then, I realized that I couldn’t read the address label that Tien sent me because it was in Mandarin. How would I know what the zip code was? Thankfully once I typed in where the package was going, it automatically found the correct city and postage. A postage label was printed out with all the appropriate info in a matter of seconds. Phew! The letter is now on its way to Taiwan!

I hope that the letter arrives safely to the right destination and in good time. Most importantly I hope that a reply is sent to Tien with news of my sister’s whereabouts before we arrive in Taiwan. Once there, Tien has arranged for a guide to drive me to the Registration Office and to meet with my sister if we are able to locate her (and if she wants to meet me). I wonder how this will all turn out. I’ll be in Taiwan for the beginning of the Chinese New Year celebration. 2012 is the Year of the Dragon. Maybe it will also be the year that I find one of my birth sisters.

xie xie

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This is my favorite time of the year. The cooler weather, the Christmas carols, the food, family, friendships, holiday shopping; the holiday spirit is upon us. Getting caught up in the holiday spirit, I thought I’d change the look of my blog. It all started yesterday when we put up our Christmas tree and decorated the house. Today, I just happen to be home with a sick kiddo who is suddenly feeling well enough to bake a pumpkin pie. The house is beginning to smell like a bakery. It’s actually nice to be home, to slow down a bit and reflect. I realize that I have so many things to be grateful for.

As we move into the busy holiday season, I want to take a moment to thank all of you who have followed my blog, left comments, or just stopped by to visit this virtual space. When I started this blog nearly two years ago, I had no idea where it would all go. Likewise, when I first began the search for my birthfamily in 2009, I didn’t know what to expect. I was almost afraid to expect anything because I had so little information to go on. What I have discovered has gone beyond any of my expectations. I’ve learned more about both my adoptive parents, especially my dad and his service in the U.S. Army Air Corp. I’ve learned some about my birth parents, and unfortunately, both have passed on. I have had my adoption contract translated. Not only have I been able to write about my adoption experience, but I found a connection to all of you. I am so grateful to have found others who have themselves been adopted, or are adoptive parents. I sincerely appreciate your encouraging comments and support as I continue the search in hopes of connecting to my biological sisters. I travel to Taiwan next January. And still, we wait to hear something. Nevertheless, it always brightens my day to connect with others who also have a story to tell. It’s great to be a part of an adoption community. I anticipate one day meeting one of my biological sisters. Now that we have something to go on (an address in Taiwan), I feel that perhaps it is possible to find someone still living from my birthfamily, and I hope to share this ongoing journey with all of you.

Happy holidays to you and all of your families!

Xie xie!

a whole new world

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I have become intrigued by everything Asian, specifically things related to Chinese culture and to Taiwan. It surprises me how strongly I feel about this. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve become a little too obsessed. Am I going overboard? Is this a mid-life crisis? Have other transracially adopted adults gone through this kind of searching later in life? When I explain to friends and family that I’m taking Mandarin lessons, going to Taiwan soon, and really exploring my cultural roots, their reactions are often encouraging, but I don’t think they quite get it. Perhaps they believe that this is just a phase I’m going through similar to a kid going through adolescence. It has, after all, taken half of my lifetime to get to that point of wanting to learn more of my cultural heritage. Twenty years ago I would never have thought twice about pursuing a search for my biological sisters, planning a trip to Taiwan, or learning Mandarin. There was no hint of a desire whatsoever.

I am happy that this new chapter of my life has begun. I’m not sure where it will all lead, but it’s an adventure. Recently, I’ve been watching a Taiwanese TV drama called, “Meteor Garden.” I had a hard time getting into it at first because it’s targeted for a younger audience, but I must say I got sucked in. I’ve begun to pick up on a few Mandarin words and phrases here and there. I have a growing list of Taiwanese dramas that I want to watch! I’ve also been listening to K-Pop (Korean pop music) and Taiwanese pop music lately. I’ve been enjoying it and am getting acquainted with popular Taiwanese singers and bands, like Jay Chou and Jerry Yan. I’m sure there are a lot more great artists out there.

I still have many questions about my adoption. One thing that still mystifies me is why my adoptive parents told me that I was Japanese and Vietnamese. My birth parents were both from China and moved to Taiwan where I was born and adopted. When and why they moved from China to Taiwan, I’m not exactly sure. I would like to know what happened to the adoption agency, The Family Planning Association of China, as it no longer exists. I’d like to know if Tze-kuan Shu Kan, the director of the agency, is still living. My adoptive mom also kept a list of orphanages in the Taipei area. I wonder if she visited all those orphanages before finding me? I would like to visit one of those orphanages in Taipei while I’m there in January. Of course, to find one of my biological sisters and meet would be beyond wonderful and would most likely lead to some of the answers to my questions. Maybe going to Taiwan is just the beginning. I hope that more doors open up. I don’t think that this is just a phase. I think it’s a growing appreciation for my birth culture, an opportunity to explore it and expand my identity. So, I may come off a little obsessed, but it really is a whole new world.

learning chinese mandarin

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I walk into Starbucks on 46th and Chandler Boulevard. It’s on the other side of town, but I don’t mind. I’m ten minutes early for my second Mandarin lesson, and the place is nearly packed. I hurry over to the only table left and sit down. I lay my notebook on the table and begin studying my lesson from the previous week. Xièxie means thank you. Now how do I pronounce it correctly again? Is it a “sh” sound or “ch” sound…short i sound, or short e sound? More customers walk in and check the place out as they stand in line ready to order their lattes and frappuccinos. They seem to stare at me since I’m sitting alone at a table with two empty chairs. No way I’m giving up my table though! I continue studying. Bù kè qi means your welcome and zài jiàn means goodbye. Hello is nǐ hǎo. Of course, the spelling of these words is only a phonetic representation of how they are pronounced, as it’s Pīnyīn. We haven’t yet focused on Mandarin characters, although they are there written next to the phonetic spelling of each word in my lessons. I try to acquaint myself with the characters, but they don’t quite stick in my mind. I continue to sit and then wonder if I should get something to drink, a hot tea or coffee while I’m waiting. I decide not to. I have to save as much as possible for the trip to Taiwan.

My tutor, Shuchen, arrives shortly with a big smile and warm welcome. Shuchen is as petite as petite can be, but really big on enthusiasm. I appreciate her pep and her obvious interest in why I’m going to Taiwan and helping me learn Mandarin. We focus on learning language that will help me get by in the short amount of time we have before I go on my trip and will later focus more on filling in the gaps. I’m happy with this arrangement and try my best to get the pronunciation down and remember what the heck I’m actually saying in Mandarin. What’s familiar about Mandarin is that it’s a tonal language. I studied Vietnamese for a while, which is another tonal language. This helps, and I’m able to hear and pronounce the f different tones (really five) pretty easily. Shuchen is very encouraging and tells me that being a musician also helps in hearing the inflection of each tone. Right on!

Recently, I got hooked on a Korean drama, “Boys Over Flowers” and watched the episodes online through Hulu. I looked up Taiwanese dramas thinking that it would be helpful in getting Mandarin “in my ear.” There is a Taiwanese version of “Boys Over Flowers” called “Meteor Garden.” It came out in 2001 and appears to have been very popular. Apparently, it stars some of Taiwan’s most popular young actors and actresses. The online streaming was really awful though, so I didn’t watch more than a few minutes of the first episode. Instead, I began watching another Taiwanese drama on Hulu called, “Single Princesses and Blind Dates.” It’s not nearly as good as “Boys Over Flowers” and I can’t say that I’m hooked, but it’s definitely good for listening and trying to learn Mandarin! I wish there was an easier way to learn another language and quickly. As it is, I’ll continue meeting with Shuchen. I’m glad that I found the right tutor and am really enjoying learning Mandarin, despite the difficulty.

let the adventure begin

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Well, I booked a flight to Taiwan! That’s right, I’m going to Taipei, Taiwan, in January. I’m beside myself! My adoption search contact here in the states, Tien, invited me awhile back to go with her when she travels to Taiwan. She’s going back to visit family for Chinese New Year, as well as take care of some business. Although there’s not much time to prepare, I couldn’t pass up this opportunity to go with someone familiar with adoptions from Taiwan as well as the country itself. Luckily, I was able to book the same flight overseas, so Tien and I will be flying and meeting together for the first time since we first began corresponding, nearly two years ago! I’m very much looking forward to finally meeting face to face.

Today, I got my passport paperwork taken care of. I tried not to be too disappointed at how bad the photos came out! I’m also trying to decide on the best hotel to stay at and how to hire a travel guide who I can take with me everywhere I go. Within a week or two, I’ll begin taking Mandarin lessons. I’m just waiting on my new tutor to contact me. I won’t know enough to speak the language fluently before I go, but maybe I’ll be able to learn a few phrases.

This trip will be a milestone in my journey towards finding any living members of my birth family. And just as important, it’s an opportunity for me to connect with my birth culture, really for the first time. I know that it will be a memorable and life changing experience. Perhaps the first of more trips in the future back to the country where I was born, at least I hope so. I’m thrilled. I’ve never done anything quite like this, travel to another country without anyone else. In college, I was in a show choir, and we traveled internationally every other year. One year, we went to Tokyo, Bangkok, Hong Kong, Guangzhou, New Delhi, Agra, and London. It was quite the experience and one that I enjoyed very much. I grew to love traveling abroad. I would love to travel to Hong Kong again and also to Seoul, Korea one day. For now, I’m Taiwan bound. I can’t think of a better way to celebrate Chinese New Year!

Embracing my cultural roots

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Wow, it’s been nearly a month since my last post. I feel as though I live in slow motion as I continue to wait on news of the search for my biological sister in Taiwan. At the end of September, I received an email from Beatrice at The Child and Juvenile Information Center in Taipei City, the agency that’s leading the search for my sister. Beatrice is always very encouraging and sent word that the household system in Taipei has record of my sister’s address, my second sister to be exact. Wow, second sister! I’m assuming second born daughter to my birth parents; I was the fourth and the only one given up for adoption that I know of. Just knowing that small fact makes this all seem a little bit more real. She’s alive, she’s living somewhere out there. Will we find her? Beatrice expresses that finding this information is a big step, and they will try to contact her as soon as possible. More importantly, she also informs me that everyone needs to register in the household system, so everyone will have an address in the system; however, that does not guarantee that the individual registered will live at the address listed. I understand the message: we can’t be certain that my sister still currently lives at this address. My heart sinks a little. I want to be hopeful, but the possibility of finding my sister seems nearly impossible, far away, intangible, like looking for a needle in a haystack. I wish for things to be more certain, that perhaps after all this time, destiny will be on my side.

At the beginning of the month, I email Beatrice asking how the search is going. She expresses that although they sent letters to the address, there has been no reply from anyone. She suggests that it’s possible my sister no longer lives at that address, or that she has rented the house out. I become curious about the address, whether it is listed in Taiwan or in China. The reason behind this is my adoption contract lists my birth family’s address in the province of Guangxi, China. This is confusing to me and makes me wonder if I’m Chinese or Taiwanese? Furthermore, what led my birth family to move from China to Taiwan? Beatrice explains that the address on my adoption contract traces back to my ancestral descent, to my birth father’s family and that my sister’s address is in Taiwan. She assures me that I’m Taiwanese since my family lived in Taiwan.

Beatrice emails soon after noticing that it bothers me somewhat not knowing if I am Chinese or Taiwanese. I explain that my adoptive mom had always told me I was part Japanese and part Vietnamese – my mother, Vietnamese, and father, Japanese. I have no idea how she got this information, and I certainly never questioned it growing up. When I found my adoption contract in 2010 (after my adoptive mother’s death), I discovered that my birth parents were both Chinese, at least their names were Chinese, not Vietnamese or Japanese. This was shocking to say the least. My whole life, I believed myself to be Vietnamese and Japanese. Finding my adoption contract opened up an unsettling mystery about my birth heritage. Both of my adoptive parents have passed on, and recently I learned that both of my birth parents have also passed on. I’m left to investigate my past on my own. I can only say that now, I’m more curious than ever to discover something of my cultural roots.

Last week, we spent the weekend with some good friends of ours in California. My friend is Korean and her husband, from Czechoslovakia. While there, she introduced me to a popular Korean TV series, “Boys Over Flowers“. I can’t say that I was very interested in watching it, but to my surprise I got totally hooked, and when we returned home, continued to watch the entire 25 episodes! Watching this series was not only great entertainment, but on a much deeper level, it helped me to appreciate my Asian roots in a way I’ve never experienced before. I feel proud to be Asian. I’m sad to say that for the greater part of my life, I downplayed any reference to my Asian heritage, never fully embracing my cultural roots. I tried for many years to look “western,” American, white. When I look in the mirror now, I’m beginning to appreciate what I see, the shape of my eyes and nose, the color of my hair and skin. I have a burning desire, whether my sister is found or not, to go to Taiwan and immerse myself in the culture, to even learn Mandarin. I want to explore that part of my identity that I rejected for so long and feel compelled to do so. It’s been difficult to wrap my head around all of the emotions that have crept in over the last several weeks.

I know that Beatrice and the agency in Taiwan are doing everything they can to find my sister. It will take time. Whether or not I receive good or bad news, the good news to me is that I’m slowly learning about my cultural roots. I hope that in so doing, I will appreciate who I am and who I’m becoming in a greater way. I realize that my self-identity is still so full of complexities. But things are coming full circle, and in the end, I know that I won’t regret this journey.

Waiting patiently…

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From the Child and Juvenile Adoption Information Center, New Taipei City, Taiwan, September 5th, 2011:

“…We received some information from the household system; it’s about your birth parents. As your blog mentioned, your birth parents passed away, your birth father was died in 2008, and your birth mother was died in 1998, we are deeply sorry about this information. About the member in your birth family, we now have some information but still need time to check if we do find the right person, please be patient for our following contact…”

I received the email very early in the morning Arizona time. Anxious to get to my email to see if anything had come back from the agency in Taiwan, I turned on my computer and waited for the screen to upload. The agency had requested that I provide some information on my current life, why I wanted to find my birth family, what I would do in the event that my birth family could not be found, or refused contact with me, etc. I was happy to oblige and sent them as much information as I could without being too long-winded. I also sent them a link to my blog, which I didn’t really anticipate them reading.

At last the computer uploaded, and there waiting in my inbox was an email from Taiwan. I skimmed through it happy to hear from them. I fixated on the last paragraph, the one that spoke of my birth parents having passed away. My reaction took me completely by surprise. I felt hollow, and the hollow sank deep into my chest. Although I knew that my birth parents were no longer living through a correspondence sent to me by, Tien, the caseworker who has been helping me search for my birth family for over a year now, the news just hit me right between the ribs. Intuitively, I had always believed that they were no longer living. I never knew my birth parents; how could I feel such a deep sense of loss? I was in shock. All I could do was sit for awhile. I went upstairs to get ready for work. I let the tears come. I think that knowing the dates that my birth parents passed away somehow brought a kind of finality, a realization that I would never ever know them, meet them, talk to them. Questions popped into my mind. Did they ever think of me? I thought mostly of my birth mother. Did she grieve over the loss of relinquishing me? Until recently, I had never wondered. Do I look anything like her? How did my birth parents die? I hoped that it was peacefully. I also thought about my adoptive parents and felt an even greater loss in that they, too, are gone, my adoptive mom in 2008, and adoptive dad in 1993.

I spent the greater part of the morning at work thinking about my birth parents, wanting to take the time to sort through my feelings. I thought about calling in sick so that I could spend some time processing all that I had learned, but decided not to. I know that this is not the end. There was some indication of hope in the agency’s correspondence; they mentioned the possibility of having information on a certain member of my birth family, but needed more time to verify it. I don’t know how long this process will take, but I await to hear back from them whether it be sooner or later.

I haven’t thought about my birth parents lately, except for in writing this post. Life is always so busy. Work, family, school all keep me occupied. One day I’ll return to the news I received about them and let myself imagine what their lives may have been like. I hope that in the future I’ll have some of the answers to my questions about their lives. It seems only natural now to wonder and to want to know.

The agency sent back an email shortly after receiving my background information. They have read my blog, this very one and expressed that they understand why I want to reunite with my birth family. It’s now only a matter of time before learning something more. Until then, I wait patiently…

missing link

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The day of my mother’s funeral just over three years ago was a day that changed my life. It was a day of saying good-bye, but ironically it was the beginning of a new chapter in my life. On that day, I recovered an important link to my past. For 41 years of my life, I had no idea that my original adoption contract lay buried in a box in my parent’s attic. After our mother’s funeral, I opened the box, as my sister had cleaned out the attic and brought down a bunch of boxes. I don’t know why she never gave me such an important link to my history. My guess is she feared I’d try to find my birthfamily or be curious about them. And I did just that. After finding my adoption contract, I set out on a journey to find any living members of my birthfamily in Taiwan.

My mom hid these documents carefully from the time she and my dad brought me home from an orphanage in Taiwan. It moved with us each time we moved due to my dad’s military career in the Air Force, unbeknownst to me. Sometimes I wonder if she ever wanted to give me my adoption contract and all the other things she saved. She never spoke of them. Around 1999, mom started to develop symptoms of Alzheimer’s disease, a terrible, terrible disease. I’m sure that she didn’t even remember that the adoption papers existed upstairs in that dank, dusty old attic. I find it surreptitious that while she was living, she didn’t tell me about those papers. However, the day of her funeral when we went back to the house and I opened up that box, it was as though she were saying, “Here, I want you to have these things now. They belong to you. I want you to know about your past, about your birth family.” Really, I imagined her saying those very things to me and believe she willed me to find that box from somewhere beyond.

When I thought that I’d lost my adoption contract last week, I was heartbroken. We moved at the beginning of the year, and in all the frenzy, I guess I lost track of that box. I had no idea it was missing. After waiting 41 years to find something so important, was I to lose it now? I looked through the boxes in our garage to no avail. I looked through the boxes in my husband’s closet, but didn’t find anything. Luckily, my husband went through the boxes in his office one more time, and sure enough, the box was there! I couldn’t believe that I’d overlooked it, but was ecstatic.

You see, two weeks ago, I received an email from an old contact, Tien, who has been helping me search for my birthfamily in Taiwan for almost a year now. Her message came out of the blue, as I’ve tried contacting her for several months with no response. I had almost given up on ever hearing from her again. I was surprised, yet so happy to hear from her. She told me that she hadn’t forgotten about me and that she’d found one of my biological sisters in Taiwan through the Registration Office in Taipei while on visit there. She also informed me that my birth parents had passed away long ago. The officials would not give Tien the name or address of the woman who could be my sister because Tien was not related. Tien therefore sent me a link to an agency in Taipei, Child and Juvenile Adoption Information Center, that provides reunion services for Taiwanese adoptees and their birthfamilies. I completed the reunion service request form and sent them a copy of my adoption contract, but apparently there was a page missing, the most important one. It became necessary for me to find the original contract because the missing document, the “household document” was most needed to begin the search. Thankfully, having found the original papers, I was able to scan and email what I believed to be the correct page. I’ve never been so grateful for advanced technology!

So now, it’s time once again to wait. Wait and see if the person Tien discovered is really one of my biological sisters. I wish that I could fly to Taiwan and do all of this in person. It would just be so much easier. If it is my biological sister, I hope she’ll want to meet me, too. In that case, I’ll be on a flight to Taiwan somehow, someway. I know that if it’s meant to be, it’ll happen. I just have to wait, the hardest part of all.

searching for my birthfamily

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Tien made a new suggestion to try and find my birthfamily in Taiwan. She suggests that I place an article in a local newspaper stating that I’m in search of my birthfamily. The best solution by far would be to travel to Taiwan in person and search for records. Tien has even invited me to accompany her on her next expedition there in the near future. I would be very interested in doing so, although it seems like pursuing this is such a distant dream. Now that I’ve started a new full-time job, it would be difficult to get the time off from work. Honestly, I’ve been so wrapped up in my new job, I’ve given my adoption search less thought. But tonight, I wonder a little if this search will ever lead me to someone from my birthfamily. Will placing such an article in a newspaper draw any attention? It’s worth a chance.

I’m hoping to hear back from Tien soon to find out what information is needed to write such an article. What will I say? Woman in search of birthfamily who was adopted by Americans over 40 years ago? Who knows if anyone from my birthfamily is still living. I was the youngest, and I’m 44 years old. My birth parents may not be living, in fact, most likely are not. I know of other adoptees who have found their birth parents, or siblings, not all Asian American adoptees, but some white, who were adopted domestically. It seems that because my adoption took place so long ago, and both of my adoptive parents are no longer living, the little information that I’ve discovered is not enough to find out anything significant. It seems impossible. The obsession to find someone from my birthfamily has drifted a little. Perhaps I’m losing hope. Perhaps the hill is too steep to climb. I think it has some to do with working and having other distractions. In any case, I’ll have to continue to wait and see what unfolds. Who knows, maybe a trip to Taiwan will come to fruition in the not too distant future. I can hope.

Monica Yant Kinney: A matter of life and love: Adoptee finally finds roots (philly.com)

road block

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Just before noon, my inbox alerted me to a new email. It was from Tien at Journeys of the Heart adoption services in Hillsboro, Oregon. She’s a caseworker at the agency who has volunteered to help me in the search for my birthfamily back in China. Tien is from Taiwan and therefore speaks the language. After three months, she finally returned my email in response to moving forward with the search. My neighbor, a month ago, offered to do what he could to help search for any information while he was visiting China. He returned last Thursday, but hasn’t contacted me at all. My husband suggested that perhaps this wasn’t of high priority to our neighbor and not to bug him. I’m at a loss and feel that finding my birthfamily is not going to be easy. I’m doubting that after such a long time there could be any possibility of finding them. Strangely, I’m not surprised that our neighbor did not come back with any news. Still, I feel disappointed.

It turns out that Tien’s email was timely. We’ll pick up where we left off. I She wasn’t surprised either that my neighbor came back with no information because my adoption took place such a long time ago. She mentioned something about the civil war that occurred in Mainland China making it even more difficult to gain information. I will now give my consent for power of attorney to give her contact person in Taiwan authority to dig for more information for me there, i.e., search records, ask for information, etc. I have to send this form to the Taiwan Economic and Cultural Office (TECO) for legalization.

We may not be able to get any further than this. Tien seems to think that my birthfamily moved from China to Taiwan where I was placed for adoption at the Family Planning Association of China. Unfortunately, that orphanage no longer exists. I will continue to hope for the best and try to figure out other ways to find information about my birthfamily.

a mystery letter

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Bits of styrofoam clung to my hands and arms as I dug down to the bottom of the box. What did my sister send? I lifted out a manilla folder which had settled among dozens of scattered pictures and styrofoam peanuts. In the folder lay a letter yellowed from age. I recognized the embellished handwriting immediately as that of my mom’s. Curiosity set in as I wondered who Dr. Woo was, the obvious recipient.

The letter was left undated and appeared to be a draft from all of the crossed out words. Apparently, Mom had written the letter as a followup to a conversation she’d previously had with Dr. Woo. After reading through the first paragraph, I soon realized that this letter described my parents’ initial visit to the Family Planning Association of China, the orphanage where I was adopted. I could not read the rest of the letter fast enough. This is what it said:

Dr. Woo –

Following our conversation adopted Chinese daughter’s visa physical, and our conversation as to what was where we obtained her, and the cash price we paid, I will attempt to explain the procedure and all the obstacles that confront an American who adopts a child from the Family Planning Association of China.

We arrived in Taipei at 10 AM – went directly to Family Planning. We were allowed to go immediately to the 4th floor to a huge room with open windows and no heat where we walked from crate to crate and from basket to basket looking at tiny babies. I chose two from the 26 that were adoptable that day.

At 4 o’ clock that evening we were ushered into a large office and were introduced to Mrs. Tze-Kuan Shee Kan. She stated she had just returned from a fundraising drive in the United States, and had acquired $30,000 to start building a new orphanage for her children. She stated that $250 was the minimum fee, which was $150 for prior care of the child (medical, food and lodging) and $100 was for the cost of all the paper work required to bring the po baby to Okinawa. This was to be pd. in American cash.

By 6 o’ clock – the necessary papers were signed and she asked if I had picked out a baby. I told her about the 2 I had chosen and which one they brought down was all right with us. In a few moments they brought our baby to us, a beautiful three month old, 7 lbs., 7 oz., and very listless baby girl. I could not stand to think she would stay another moment under their roof. I asked permission…

I couldn’t believe there wasn’t more to the letter! I went back to the box and rummaged around trying to find a second page but found nothing. Where was the rest of the letter? I was so intrigued and disappointed that there wasn’t more. I telephoned my sister back in Louisiana to ask if she knew about the letter and had any idea where the missing part might be. She knew nothing. I had to just accept the fact that the other half was gone.

I had so many questions. Did I go home with my parents that afternoon? What did Mom ask permission for? What were some of the “obstacles” mom mentioned in adopting from the Family Planning Association? Was Mom petitioning for Dr. Woo’s assistance and did he help in any way? From the description Mom gave in the letter, I envisioned the orphanage to be in poor condition with barely enough for all of the babies and children there due to little funding. That I was only 7 lbs and 7 oz. at the age of 3 months was proof enough. I went back to read one of mom’s diaries dated the same year I was born. There was nothing said about Dr. Woo, only how they brought me home to Okinawa.

I went back to the folder and found another clue about my adoption: a medical examination form signed by Dr. Woo. I pieced together that my parents needed to get a visa for me, and he must have given the exam required. The form is dated January, 31, 1968 and was officially stamped in San Francisco on June 28, 1968, six months later. I found some other information showing that one year previous, my parents had filed for a petition for visa in Okinawa, which was officially approved on July 7, 1967. The entire process to get an actual visa took over a year from start to finish. Eventually we moved to the states around 1968 or 1969. I’m pretty sure that my parents were in a hurry to get out of Okinawa in case my birthfamily changed their mind about the adoption. My dad was transferred from Kadena Air Force Base in Okinawa to Westover Air Force Base in Massachusetts.

The letter will probably always be a mystery, but it did give me some insight into the orphanage where I was adopted. Just yesterday, as I was out sweeping the driveway, our neighbor and his son, Alex, came outside. Alex and his sister-in-law had come over to help interpret my adoption contract just a week ago. We exchanged hellos and Alex’s father proceeded to ask me if I was Chinese. Three months ago, my response would have been no, but then I’ve learned so much since then. I launched into a brief explanation of my adoption and my current attempt to find my birthfamily in China. He told me that he’d be traveling to China soon and that his brother currently works for the government there. He offered to help do whatever he could in China to find out about my birthfamily with the help of his brother. Alex suggested that I give his father the address of my birthparents listed on the adoption contract. His father will be staying in Ghuangzhou which is very close to the province where my birthparents lived at the time of my adoption. I was touched that he wanted to help.

I’ll continue to try to piece together the mystery of my adoption from what I now have in my possession. I hope that my neighbor can bring back some kind of information about my birthfamily from China, but I’m not holding my breath. Only time will tell.

learning about my adoption

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I peeked out of our office window to see who was at the door. UPS. My eyes settled in on a large brown box sitting next to the delivery man’s feet. Then I remembered. My sister had shipped a package from Louisiana with more stuff from home, including my mom’s diaries. Looking at the box, I noticed that the tape had come unglued around the edges leaving wide gaping holes. The UPS guy was concerned about possible damage to the contents and asked that I take a look inside. I hurried back into the house, and after grabbing a pair of scissors, knelt beside the box and began cutting away at the tape. Styrofoam peanuts began flying out as I reached inside. I lifted up one particularly large article bound tightly with bubble wrap and tape and heard the sound of clinking glass. After suggesting that I call UPS for an inspection of the damaged goods, the UPS guy zipped off. I dragged the heavy box inside and began tearing it open. By the looks of all the stuff inside, I wondered where I’d have room to put it all. There were large picture frames containing more of my dad’s military awards and a shoebox full of pictures, mom’s diaries, yearbooks, diplomas. One of the greatest finds was a small scrapbook evidently made by my dad’s mom, whom I don’t remember meeting. She had saved several newspaper clippings of stories about my dad from their hometown, as well as his early flight training graduation program and invitation to a grand graduation ball. I could tell that dad’s mom was very proud of him. I took out the broken item and, through the bubble wrap, saw that it was a certificate given to my dad in honor of his military retirement. The signatures of several officers were visible at the bottom in various shades of blue and black ink. Dad had served honorably as Director of the Personnel Actions Division for many years after an aneurysm in 1963 had physically disqualified him from ever flying again.

I dug in the box to find my mom’s diaries and was anxious to start reading. My sister found three, although I knew that there were more. They were all in pretty good shape and readable. The first one I perused through was dated 1943 – 1946, the years during World War II. Her entries were very brief, mostly just a few sentences, but there were a few longer ones. I discovered that my mom married her first husband, Jim Bell, on July 23, 1943 at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Everett Brines, Jim’s aunt and uncle. She was only eighteen years old. It appeared that she and Jim quarreled a lot, and one entry described a near split after Jim read a letter she received from another gentlemen. It was hard for me to imagine my mom at such a young age. My brother, Larry, recently told me that Jim, his dad, had an awful temper, and it made me wonder as I read mom’s diary what this man, my mom’s first husband, was like. Mom wrote about Jim flying often and being gone from home; obviously he was in the Army Air Corp. They listened to the radio and went to see shows together frequently. On May 8, 1944, she had her first son, my half-brother Larry. I skimmed through the rest of the diary anxious to see if one of the others covered the 60’s, the year my parents adopted me. I found one dated January 1, 1962 – December 31, 1966. Mom skipped around from year to year, which made it difficult to follow sometimes. I went right to 1966 looking for clues about my adoption. The first hint of my parents wanting to adopt occurred on January 21, 1966:

“Janie and I went to Machoriato to the Souls Episcopalian Church and Father Stough to talk about the baby. Not too much help but certainly believe he’ll help…”

I’m not sure where Machoriato is, but I did a Google search on the church mom referred to and found an All Souls Anglican Church and Mission on the Internet. From what I could tell, it fit the description of the church mom talked about in her diary. I sent an email hoping to find out and no more than half an hour later, received an email from Fr. Larry Kirchner stating that indeed it was the same church, and there was a Fr. Stough during that time period.

The next entry referring to “the baby” is dated February 1, 1966:

“Janie came up very early – Father Stough called that he had a little 3 yr. old boy, then it turned out to be a girl for me to see. Janie almost hit a kid on Kadena AFB.”

So glad they didn’t actually hit the kid. Janie is my godmother. I remember vividly one of her visits to us in Louisiana. She painted my fingernails and sewed a new dress for me, and I fell in love with her. I cried the day she had to leave. She and her husband, Nelson, once visited me when I lived in Orlando, Florida in the early 1990’s. I lost touch with Janie after that and am not sure if she’s still living. Janie was my mom’s confidante at Kadena and a dearly loved friend.

On February 3, 1966, Father Stough called mom about the baby, and they set a date the following Monday to meet with a little girl. Here’s the entry from Monday, February 7, 1966:

“We go to see the little girl. Went to Naha to see her – she was beautiful – absolutely as pretty a child as I ever saw in my life. We were so disappointed that the Grandma didn’t want to give her up. Janie and Nelson brought me home.”

I can only imagine the disappointment mom felt after that. I’m now starting to wonder where my dad was as Mom and Janie were off visiting orphanages. Probably at work. The next entry to mention any news of adoption doesn’t occur until 2 months later on April 28th. Mom heard about an Okinawan girl expecting a baby. Then on May 21st she makes the first mention of adopting from Taiwan:

“Rains so heavy. Heard about getting a baby in Taiwan…”

A month later, she wrote a letter about “getting a baby from Taiwan” followed soon after by another letter to Taiwan with power of attorney, so she and Dad could become legal guardians of a minor. I found the receipt for payment dated December 20, 1966 from the Dept. of State – United States of America. For the next month, they didn’t hear anything back from Taiwan. Finally on August 8th, word came back:

“…Got letter from Mr. Forbes in Taipei, Taiwan…”

For the next three months, my parents waited. Mom wrote on November 25th, 1966:

“…Maybe we’ll go to Taiwan soon…”

Around December 5th, things started to roll. I’ve tried piecing together the information I found, but it’s a bit confusing. It appears that they didn’t wait for or receive a referral for a child like adoptive parents do today, but could travel to Taiwan anytime they wanted to. How did they know which orphanage to go to, or did they visit several? I found 2 long lists of the names of orphanages mostly in the Taipei area with all of my adoption stuff and wonder if my mom visited all of those orphanages?

“Decided to go to Taiwan next week if possible…”

On Monday, December 12th, mom found out that they’d leave on the following Thursday for Taiwan, and the next day received some information on adoption in Taiwan. The big day arrived and Mom’s entry on December 15, 1966 said:

“Left Kadena AFB for Taipei, Taiwan. Went to Family Planning. Saw Chaling. Had interview with Mrs. Kan. Chaling was brought to us. Such a beautiful baby. Faulkenburgs with us. Went out to see and meet Miss Radley and Susie.”

On my adoption contract, “Chaling” is actually spelled out Hsiao-ling. I imagine that someone probably wrote out how to pronounce the name phonetically for my parents to remember and the translation stuck, which is how I ended up with Chaling as my middle name. On Friday, December 16th, my parents started the paperwork:

“Started the paperwork for Marijane Chaling Buck – raining. Finished at the Court House by 5 pm. Then we all went out to eat. Took the baby to 7th D. Adventist Hosp. She checked out OK.”

I found the original receipts from the Taiwan Sanitarium and Hospital mixed in with all the paperwork for my adoption. I wondered if the 7th Day Adventist Hospital and Taiwan Sanitarium were somehow connected? Sure enough, after another Google search, I found a web page for the Taiwan Adventist Hospital. It’s one of over 600 healthcare institutions operated by the Seventh-day Adventist Church in a worldwide mission system. The Hospital was relocated from Shanghai to Taipei in 1949. It was later re-established as the Taiwan Sanitorium Hospital by the founder. Afterwards, due to the hospital’s growth, it was renamed the Taiwan Sanitarium and Hospital. In 1971, it was again renamed the Taiwan Adventist Hospital after more community services were added. My visit there cost my parents $559.00 for vaccinations, meds, consultation, and the doctor’s visit.

Saturday, December 17th and Sunday were filled with getting all the necessary paperwork together and a little shopping. Mom wrote,

“Run – run – trying to get things done. Everything closes at noon in Taiwan. Took train to Yan Shui to St. Benedicts’. Beautiful. Enjoyed meeting the sisters.”

“Spent a little time shopping. Then stayed out at the Hosp. Visited with Susie. She’s a darling.”

Who were the sisters at St. Benedict’s? Was St. Benedict’s another orphanage, and who was Susie? I wonder if St. Benedict’s still exists? Hmmm….In the next entry dated Monday, December 19th, it looked like all the paperwork had finally been completed. Mom wrote:

“Wendy and Alice Lee run all day – got our papers finished. Baby vaccinated. Spent all day running with Esther and Susie to find baby clothes. Not too much luck. The Faulkenburgs left.”

“Shopped a bit. Met Col. Richmond – helped us get on S/A plane. Arrived at Kadena at 2 AM. Baby very good. Mickey and Barney here – Lee and Dan got up to see baby. Girls very pleased.”

Who are all the people my mom mentioned? I have no idea who Alice Lee was, or Col. Richmond, Mickey, Barney, Lee or Dan. So many unanswered questions! The girls were my two half sisters, Lynn and Linda, one from my mom’s previous marriage and one from my dad’s previous marriage. They were both teenagers in high school when my parents adopted me. I guess I’ll probably never know who the others were.

After getting the “new baby settled in,” the 4252nd wing gave mom a baby shower. She wrote, “I got everything for Marijane. It was so nice.” Mom saved all of the baby shower cards from that day. They were all carefully placed with my adoption papers, and I was amazed that she had kept them buried all this time. One of mom’s last entries for that year was:

“Our baby girl is with us. So precious. Went to the “Little Club” for Xmas Dinner. Marijane very good. Girls had a good Xmas. A very happy day for all.”

I wonder how I adjusted to my new family? I’m sure that English was foreign to my ears at the time of my adoption. Did I attach quickly to my adoptive parents? I’m not sure that I’ll ever find out.

the translation

7 Replies

Last Thursday morning I found the nerve to knock on our neighbor’s door. I knew the family was from China and wanted to ask if someone could help me with the translation of my adoption contract, which had been buried in my parents’ attic for years, hidden in an opened box. I wondered why I’d waited so long to have someone take a look at it. As I stood there waiting for someone to answer the door, I studied a small red vase with intricately etched dragons and yellow flowers hanging next to the door, undoubtedly for Chinese New Year . I wondered what the characters on the vase said. After several minutes, my neighbor answered the door. He owns a Chinese food restaurant right down the street. I stumbled over my words as I tried to explain why I had stopped by. He told me in broken English to come back in half an hour when his daughter-in-law would be there. I busied myself around the house and lost track of time until the doorbell rang an hour or so later. Our neighbor’s youngest son, Alex, appeared in the doorway with his sister-in-law, Kelly. He introduced her to me and explained that she did not speak English but would be happy to interpret my papers. I gave him a copy of the adoption contract, regretful that he had to hurry off to class. That meant I’d have to wait for the interpretation. I tried not to think about it too much throughout the day as I anticipated meeting them later.

The following night, our doorbell rang once again. It was Alex and Kelly. After showing them in, we gathered around the dinner table with the adoption contract, and the translation began. I sat on the edge of my chair wishing I could understand what Kelly was saying. I tried to determine the language she spoke. Was it Mandarin or Cantonese? Every so often Alex would interject to ask a question. Finally, Alex turned to me. The first thing he told me was that one particular page of the contract was a history of why my birth parents placed me for adoption. According to this paper, my birth parents were very poor and “there was no money in the household.” I was the 4th daughter from a large family. It didn’t state how many other siblings there were, but Alex and Kelly seemed to believe that the family was very large. They had to give one girl up for adoption and it happened to be me, the youngest. I immediately wondered had I been born a boy, would they have kept me? I wondered if they had been disappointed that another girl had been born into the family? Did they waiver over the decision to relinquish me? Was I placed in the orphanage right after my birth, or did I stay with my birth parents for a little while? In my mind, I was also trying to reconcile the huge differences in stories between my mom’s account and what was actually written on the contract. Mom had always told me that my birth parents had placed all the girls for adoption, and that they had tried to find one of my sisters to adopt her too. So many missing pieces.

Alex then brought my attention to a specific area of the contract. It was the handwritten signatures of my birth mother and birth father on the contract. I was amazed that their signatures were actually right there on the paper, and I’d never noticed it before. Had both of them signed, or just one? Alex circled their names, the Mandarin characters written one on top of the other, perfectly vertical. In fact, the entire contract was written in traditional Chinese forming vertical columns from top to bottom. I examined the faded handwriting of my birth parents more closely. Alex moved on and explained that my birth parents were from a province in China, not Taiwan, called Guangxi. Another surprise. “It’s in south China,” he explained, “like Hong Kong.” He wrote out the name phonetically, Gong-sai, so that I’d remember how to pronounce it. Cantonese is the prominent language in Guangxi and all of southern China. Later, I did some research on Guangxi learning that it has a population of 45 million people made up of several ethnic groups and borders the country of Vietnam. Hmm… So maybe that had something to do with my adoptive parents telling me that I was part Vietnamese. So, how did I end up in Taiwan? Did my birth parents travel, or actually move there? Alex suggested that perhaps the orphanages were better in Taiwan and my birth parents placed me there to increase any chances of being adopted.

As the evening came to a close, Alex and Kelly assured me that my adoption was legally agreed upon by both my adoptive and birth parents. Alex told me that traditional Chinese families typically remain living in one house their whole lives, so chances are that the family still currently lives in Guangxi at the same address. He also told me that their address would be fairly easy to locate if we should travel to China one day. I thanked them both for taking the time to help me, and they wished me good luck in my search happy to have been of help.

After they left, I went over everything Alex and Kelly told me. It’s frustrating not having all of the pieces, and I’m more intrigued than ever. I’ve enlisted the help of a social worker at an adoption agency specializing in adoptions from Taiwan. I hope that she can help me find my birthfamily, or at least connect me to the right people. It seems like a longshot, but I can always hope.

false identity

12 Replies

I don’t recall the exact moment I knew I was adopted. My parents must have told me at a very young age because I just always knew. They often told me that I was “chosen,” and mom occasionally retold the story of how they found me. Consequently, I came to feel “special,” but later special didn’t feel so special. Usually my mom ended up in tears, and I would try my best not to cry in front of her. Like anyone else’s parents, my mom and dad were my mom and dad. We had the same kind of relationship that other kids had with their parents. It didn’t matter that I looked different from them. As I grew up, however, my adoptive parents were completely unaware of the racial teasing that I experienced, the fear, the sense of inferiority that developed. I kept it to myself, and they never asked.

According to my mom’s story, I was the eleventh, give or take a few, child born to my birthparents; they gave all the girls up for adoption. How accurate this is, I’m not sure. My birthfather was supposedly Japanese and mother, Vietnamese. My parents attempted to find one of my biological sisters to adopt as well, but were unsuccessful in finding her. After my mom’s death in 2008, I found the original contract of my adoption, as well as many other documents, notes, receipts, etc. Everything had been carefully preserved and hidden away in a storage box up in my parent’s attic. I found one note of a list of orphanages scribbled on pieces of tablet paper; the writing appeared to be in Mandarin, but had English translations. Were these the orphanages my parents visited to look for my sister, or maybe even for me? I’ve often wondered how they found the Family Planning Association of China, the orphanage where they found me. The orphanage no longer exists today.

We traveled back to Kadena Air Force Base in Okinawa where my dad was stationed after my adoption. It would take another seven months for the petition for my visa to be approved (through the Tokyo, Japan Immigration and Naturalization Service). When my parents attended their appointment at the American Embassy to file for the petition, they were disappointed to learn that additional documentation was required attesting to “the abandoned status of their adopted daughter,” meaning a letter from the adoption agency was needed. My parents contacted the Secretary General of the Family Planning Association, Mrs. Tze-kuan Shu Kan, to write the letter. In addition to this information, I found some interesting letters to my parents from a caseworker, Rose-Marie, reassuring them that the necessary paperwork was being properly notarized and that there would be “no further trouble.” I also found the letter that Mrs. Kan eventually wrote to confirm the status of my abandonment; however, only half of it is legible. Part of the document is damaged, to my great disappointment. This was frustrating, as I was hoping to learn more about my adoption and birthfamily. What I did make out basically stated that I was abandoned at the age of 1 month, 9 days and placed in their orphanage. I’m almost positive that there was more explaining why my birthparents gave me up for adoption though. On July 7, 1967, my parents finally received approval on their petition for the visa. This enabled them to file a formal visa application, which required even more paperwork. A small note with scribbled handwriting listed all the items mom needed for the visa application: 6 photographs, 4 copies of adoption paper, 6 copies of household registration of the child, passport, medical exam and vaccinations, etc.

When I first found my adoption contract, I thought I’d made the discovery of a lifetime. What has intrigued me since examining the contract is that some of my mom’s story is contrary to the content of the contract. Mom never alluded to this document, and once when I asked to see my adoption papers, she freaked out and became suspicious. I have no idea why, except that perhaps she was afraid I’d want to find my birthfamily, which I never had any desire to do. It was all very weird. The adoption contract revealed the names of my birthparents. My birthmother’s name was Shiow-Jean Lu and birthfather’s, Chan-Huai Huang. My birth name was Hsiao-ling Huang (pronounced Shou-ling, like cow). My parents kept my birth name as my middle name but changed the spelling to Chaling. I’m speculating that during the translation of the contract, someone wrote out phonetically how to pronounce my birth name, or maybe my parents did it, and that’s how “Chaling” came to be. Or perhaps they simply ‘Americanized’ my given birth name. What really puzzles me is the fact that my birthparents names’ are not Japanese or Vietnamese, but Chinese. Could I be Chinese, or Taiwanese (I was born in Taiwan)? It’s such a mystery…

As my mom’s story goes, they knew that I was “the one” they wanted when I looked up at my mom and smiled at her. Apparently, my parents did not get to choose the baby they wanted, they were just given a baby. The process of cross-cultural adoptions in the U.S. is nothing like what my parents experienced. Adoptive parents go through a very lengthy process of completing a complicated mass of paperwork, the dossier, which can take months. Each country’s government has its own set of eligibility criteria, requirements, fees, etc. and there are also U.S. state and federal adoption laws. Then there’s interviews with adoptive parents, background checks, home visits… After all of that, adoptive parents begin to receive referrals based on their preferences. The whole process can take up to 2 or 3 years depending on which country the adoptive parents are seeking the adoption. My parents adopted me in a matter of days. Of course, they were actually there in Taiwan and able to go to the orphanage and see the children available for adoption. On December 16, 1966, I became Marijane Chaling Buck, the daughter of Lt. Col. Wendell and Gloria Buck.

After finally receiving the visa in 1968, my dad received a transfer to the States. We moved to Westover Air Force Base in Massachusetts for a couple of years, then were transferred again to Barksdale AFB in Bossier City, Louisiana. It was in Shreveport on March 4, 1971, at the age of 4 years that I became a naturalized American citizen, along with 37 other people. I remember vaguely the naturalization ceremony, mostly feeling scared. The court room was filled with so many people, and when the judge picked me up to hold me for the news reporters, I started to cry.

We remained in Bossier City, Louisiana, throughout the rest of my childhood, and my parents continued to live there for the rest of their lives. They lived in the same house for 37 years. Obviously, finding my adoption contract has left me with a lot of questions. My parents are deceased, so it will be difficult to find the answers. After all of these years, I never thought that I’d be this curious about my past, but because my adoptive parents provided mistruths, perhaps lies, I’m perplexed and would really like to find some answers. I’m not sure if they’re out there or how to go about finding them, but I’m going to try.

my mysterious adoption

14 Replies

Imagine your whole life believing that you are one thing and then learning in mid-life that you are not what you have always believed you were. Let me explain. When I was four months old, I was adopted by a white American family from an orphanage in Taipei, Taiwan. My dad was a lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Air Force, and he and my mom were stationed in Okinawa at the time I was adopted. My parents provided very little information about my adoption, and I knew nothing about my birth family or birth culture. I always believed that I was Vietnamese and Japanese. That is what they told me, that is what I believed. I had no reason to question what I’d been told. After my mom passed away in 2008, however, I made a discovery about my adoption that in one instant changed everything I ever knew.

My mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease, which slowly progressed across several years. Before her death, my half-sister began rummaging through our parents’ attic in an attempt to get rid of junk. There were tons of boxes stored, and none of us had a single clue what was inside them. As it turned out, one box in particular contained some very surprising things. After mom’s funeral, sorted through the boxes. There we were, in the tiny dining room where I’d sat a million times with my family for breakfast and dinner, removing yellowed tape from boxes, rummaging through what was inside. Some contained interesting artifacts from my dad’s service in the military. He was in the United States Army Air Force, a co-pilot of a B-24 in World War II. These little treasures are very meaningful to me now, old photos from my dad‘s youth, flight records, clues to his military past, which I knew so little about.

We rummaged and rummaged. Then, I stumbled upon a box where I found the original contract of my adoption plus other items related to my adoption that my mom stowed away and never told me about. I knew something of my past had to exist somewhere, but never had any motivation or reason to search up in the attic, of all places. I used to think that monsters and scary things lived in the attic. The most curious thing of all was a picture of my mom holding me in her lap in what appeared to be the orphanage where I was placed for adoption, though I can’t be certain. She is no longer here to answer the many questions about my adoption that are exponentially growing in number as I write this. A small baby bed, its railings rusted with peeling paint, is situated just behind us. I found safety pins that probably held together my cloth diapers and baby shower cards, congratulating my mom on her “new addition to the family.” I was stunned, excited about these curious new finds and that I’d finally found some tangible link to my mysterious adoption. At the same time I felt sad that my parents never shared these things with me. Why not? Why hide my early beginnings? Secrets tend to surface at some point.

At the beginning of this year I went back to Bossier City, Louisiana, to salvage what I could from my parents’ home. It all seemed so surreal knowing that this would be my last visit to the house I grew up in before it is put on the market. I shipped back home tons of old pictures, an antique grandfather clock that has been in Mom’s family forever, LP’s of Glen Miller music, and several of Dad’s military awards, plaques, and old service records. So many memories came flooding back as I unpacked all the boxes and unwrapped each little item, childhood memories, days gone by. It saddens me that neither of my adoptive parents are here anymore. We’ll never get the chance to clear things up about my adoption. It’s up to me now to figure it out. But really, that has been the theme of my life – left to figure things out on my own, alone.

Since coming back home to Arizona, I’ve thought more and more about my adoption and decided to begin a search for my birth family. I sent my adoption contract to an adoption agency specializing in adoptions from Taiwan to American families. Surprisingly, I learned from one of the caseworkers that my birth parents were not Vietnamese and Japanese, but very possibly Taiwanese. Could I be Taiwanese? It would make sense, after all, because I was adopted from Taipei. For years I have explained to people that I was born in Taiwan, but am really Japanese and Vietnamese, adopted by white parents. I had to further explain why I had a southern accent. The script…the script became second nature, yet incredibly annoying at the same time. The fact that I didn’t exactly look like either of my parents raised question upon question and elicited unwelcome stares, especially having lived in a predominantly white area. It will be so much easier now to just tell people that I’m Taiwanese and not feel obligated to share more, not that I am really obligated in the first place. It’s just when you grow up in an area where you don’t look like your parents or anybody else, people ask questions. And not just one question…

I’m not sure how the search for my birth family will go. Chances are that neither of my birth parents are still living. My birth mother was 39 and birth father, 55 when I was born. Still puzzling to me is why my mom told me that I was Japanese and Vietnamese. Did the translation get mixed up, or was it all fabricated? It’s hard for me to believe that my parents would purposely lie to me. But, there is that…Perhaps it will always remain a mystery.

Discovering things I never knew about my adoption, digging into my past has led to a burning curiosity to know and understand my cultural heritage, which I so strongly rejected growing up. Why would I want to look Asian in a world filled with white people? I am now more curious than ever about my birth family. Do I look like any of them, does anyone else in my birth family have an affinity for music? Are there any health issues to be concerned about, was it difficult for my birth parents to relinquish me, did they ever want to see me? Hell, I’d never even heard of the term, “birth family,” until recently. Although I may never find out anything other than what’s preserved on my adoption contract, I hope that won’t be the case.

Another blogger’s thoughts on international adoption and reunion (pushingonarope.com)
Opening Up Adoptions (lawprofessors.typepad.com)
The Post All Adoptive Parents Need to Read (blogher.com)

Musings of a Taiwanese American Adoptee

tales of intercountry adoption & beyond

Category Archives: Adoptee Search and Reunion

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what every adoptee longs to know

we are family

happy new year

christmas miracle

letter sent

xie xie

a whole new world

learning chinese mandarin

let the adventure begin

Embracing my cultural roots

Waiting patiently…

missing link

searching for my birthfamily

road block

a mystery letter

learning about my adoption

the translation

false identity

my mysterious adoption

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