
Lately, it seems every few days or weeks there is a new story that reaches my awareness related to Korean adoptees. Today, I have 2 to share in this blog. The Korean War was fought between North Korea and South Korea from 1950 to 1953. A lot of Korean born children came to the US after the war and in the decades since.
I discovered Kristen Kish in the current issue of Time magazine’s feature – 100 Next – The World’s Rising Stars and then found an interview in Bon Appetit – LINK>How Being an Adopted Korean Influences the Way Kristen Kish Cooks by Alyse Whitney, who notes – I was also adopted from Seoul (by a white family in upstate New York). She talked to Kish about feeling disconnected from Korean culture—especially the food.
Even before this, my husband pointed out a story in The Huffington Post – I Was Told My Parents Were Dead. 38 Years Later, I Got An Email That Changed Everything by Cat Powell-Hoffmann. As a Gemini, stories about twins fascinate me. She observes – “Was this why I could never shake that lonely gnawing in my belly when I was growing up? Was she the reason?”
Something that seems clear to me in reading both stories is how this cultural “exchange” failed to truly provide these adoptees with any cultural foundations. Kish was born in Seoul, South Korea as Kwon Yung Ran. After living in a few orphanages as an infant, she was adopted when she was four months old. Cat’s adoption records noted that she had been “abandoned at birth with no living relatives.” Contacted by a woman who worked at the adoption agency 38 years later, she is told – “you have family in South Korea. Your mother is alive and well.” And “You have a twin sister.”
The woman from the adoption agency forwarded two letters to Cat. The one from her birth mother addressed her by her orphan name, Yi Soon. Her words were tender and fragile. Her twin’s letter felt like living distant but parallel lives. Her reunion occurred in Tulsa Oklahoma, at the adoption agency’s corporate headquarters. She notes the “two women raced toward me with their arms outstretched and tears in their eyes.” She said meeting her twin was “like looking at a stranger wearing my face and using my voice — but one of us spoke Korean and the other did not. It was disorienting and bizarre to think I’d shared a womb with another human being and now I was meeting her again 38 years later.” Then she says, “The very first words my birth mother said to me were ‘Mianhae,’ which means ‘I’m sorry’ in Korean. Then she said ‘Saranghae,’ which means ‘I love you’.” Turns out that when she was born in 1973, twins were considered bad luck in Korea. Her mother had to choose and chose the first born twin. The cultural differences meant they didn’t understand each other, and they were accustomed to living very different lives. She says, “because of our language barrier, we were mostly forced to play charades to communicate, and I could barely get across the most basic sentiments, much less hold the heart-to-heart conversation I so desperately wanted to have with them.”
Back to Kristen Kish’s story – she writes, “As I grew up, I realized just how incredible it was to go from unwanted and abandoned by my birth mother to being part of a new, welcoming family, who felt only joy at my arrival.” Kish writes that adopted children are like “real-life Cabbage Patch Dolls” because they have their own special dates and certificates for when they are adopted and become citizens of the United States. Kristen Kish was adopted into a family in Kentwood Michigan. She says, “I love to eat Korean food, but I don’t need to cook it. Other people can do it better.”
Kish writes – “I don’t know anything about Korean culture. I was raised by a white family in Michigan, and I didn’t look in the mirror and think about why we didn’t all look the same. They are my family, and that’s all I know.” Also that “There’s this fondness I’ve always had for older Korean women—I soften up, and I can legit feel it inside my heart. They’ll be like ‘I’m so proud of you’ and it just crushes me, in this really sweet way,” Kish explained. “My life is f—king fantastic and I don’t want a Korean family, but we both know that there was another life that could have potentially happened. It’s the ‘what ifs?’ that get you.”
She has a positive perspective on her adoption but still hopes to one day at least go to the clinic where she was born. She notes – “I feel oddly disconnected because my family is my family. Maybe I wouldn’t have become a chef if I grew up in Korea. I was put up for adoption for a reason, whether I was unwanted or they couldn’t care for me, and my life wouldn’t have been as great. Being in a family that wants you, that life is much better.” Kish has been named as the new host of Bravo’s popular and long-running series “Top Chef,” which she won in it’s tenth season.

