Myla YR

“This Fortune”: My Journey of Self-Discovery

Growing up on Vancouver Island in the small City of Nanaimo, my identity as a Korean – Canadian was close to non-existent.  I assumed being adopted was simply my story – my life – and nothing further.  I am Canadian, and this was all I knew.  Being raised in a Caucasian family of a British father, British – Canadian mother, and two older brothers, one biological to my parents and later in life, another adopted one, I never felt different being an Asian adoptee.  Growing up, we fought tirelessly as siblings and I always enjoyed being the only girl and the youngest of three.  Being surrounded also by Caucasian friends and relatives, I truly felt as though I too was of Caucasian descent.  The only aspect of my life that kept me connected to my Korean heritage was using my surname, “Choi”, from Korea as a first name; however, as soon as I was old enough to change this, I did and reverted to my parents’ given name, “Myla” keeping “Choi” as a middle name.  Reflecting now I understand my parents’ intention of wanting me to identify with my Asian heritage, however, growing up I did everything I could to detach myself from any Asian identifiers.  During my youth, I begged my family and friends to call me Rebecca as I saw myself, and identified as, a cute little blonde girl living in the white western world.  My childhood best friend and I went around telling everyone that we were identical twins and would regularly dress alike, giggling to ourselves that families and friends would be unable to tell us apart – although we were however, starkly different to any human eye, her being a foot or so taller, with blonde hair and me – well, being a surprisingly small and jet black haired, Korean -Canadian.

Throughout my school years I can still count the number of Asian peers in both elementary and high school on a single hand, and I interacted with only one of them on a regular basis.  I never had close Asian friends, nor spent much time with any Asian families. I did not consider myself as an Asian; if anything, I distanced myself even further in fear of someone trying to speak to me in a language I did not understand.  It is important to point out that this does not mean there were no other Asian families in our geographical area but rather I did not want to, nor feel the desire to, engage with this part of my identity.  My parents continuously encouraged me to explore my roots asking constantly if I was ready to visit Korea, but it was always my choice and I always said no.  They even planned a trip to Thailand with me, in hopes we would stop over in Korea, but I adamantly declined insisting we spend any extra time in Thailand only.  While I am forever grateful for my parents respecting my hesitation during this time, had more resources been available to give me a taste of the Korean culture in smaller steps than a terrifying homeland visit – I believe that I may not have distanced myself as much.

After my 30th birthday I started to become interested in my Korean heritage. In spring of 2016, while enjoying a glass of wine, my dear friend mentioned a convention in Seoul for Korean adoptees she watched on a documentary called, Twinsters.  She was ecstatic.  This convention apparently only took place every three years and was coming that summer of 2016. I watched the documentary later the same night, and when I saw a family photo of a Korean adoptee in a Caucasian family, I realized I had never seen a family photo like my own and felt a yearning for more.  I signed up shortly thereafter and from then on, started this journey of self–discovery, getting to know my “adoptee” or “other” self.  Since then, my identity of being a Canadian-Korean adoptee has been dramatically shaken up and has not settled to calm ever since.  Over the last year, I have been fortunate to learn about and experience a wonderful, vulnerable and supportive community I happen to be a part of but never knew existed before – a Korean Adoptees (aka KADs) community.  I met the most incredible life-long friends and am constantly discovering pieces of myself that connect me with my Korean roots.

Leading up to the International Korean Adoptee Gathering (IKAA G16) in Seoul Korea in August 2016, I experienced a range of emotions and feelings unknown to me.  Reviewing my adoption papers from my parents, I relived my birth story of being conceived by a young mother in her final years of high school.  The only picture connecting me to Korea was of myself as an infant with my foster mother.  The most difficult thing I experienced leading up to IKAA G16 was deciding whether I was going to do a birth family search.  Numerous questions arose such as: How would this affect me? How would it affect my parents and spouse? Did I even want to know? What was my biggest concern? And what if someone was found but did not want to be? Ultimately, I opted to do the birth search.  I would never have been able to make this decision without the support of my family and partner, and primarily made the decision simply because I did not want to regret not doing so during my visit. Deciding to go alone, I was fortunate to meet up with two other KADs who were also planning on attending.  They both resided in the west coast of Canada and were two of the only Asians, and the only adoptees, I had really spoken with in my life.  To my excitement and relief, it turned out one of them had already attended a previous IKKA G16 Gathering and could give me an idea of what to expect.  For someone who likes to plan and manage my expectations, this was key in bolstering my courage to take this journey solo.

Attending IKAA G16 ended up being a life-changing event.  Sitting at the welcome dinner on the first night with over 500 Korean adoptees (pictured below) from all over the globe really made me understand this beautiful KAD community I am still amazed to be a part of.  During the convention, tears were shed, friendships were started, and self-discovery was constant.  Many mornings, I would arrive at breakfast and people would start sharing stories about birth family searches and adoption challenges before I had had even a sip of coffee.  We shared feelings and complexities with strangers that we had not been able to before with our closest loved ones.  I never could have imagined how enlightening it would be to explore this level of emotion with people who have experienced the same.  This in itself really makes one’s vulnerability shine through on a new and unknown level.

I was especially surprised to learn that, of all the fabulous Korean adoptees from all over the world (US, Denmark, Sweden, Australia, Hawaii and the list goes on), there were only four of us from Canada: two fellow Canadian–Korean adoptees from Toronto and Montreal, one from Vancouver, and myself. While I understand Canadians are a minority comparatively to others on the global stage, I was left astonished that we didn’t even make up 1% in over 500 attendees and were not even addressed as our own country in the closing remarks.  I was however, pleasantly surprised learning about the range of support systems available for KAD’s all around the world interconnecting the community globally, albeit, still missing in Canada.  While the four of us were lucky enough to be supported by a Washington group in Seattle, AAAW (Asian Adult Adoptees of Washington), I knew then I wanted fill the gap of Canadian based KAD support when I returned home and spent the remainder of my time at IKAA G16 learning about other networks – specifically one previously based in BC, speaking with the executives, recruiting board members and beginning to dream up a plan.

As such, when back on Vancouver Island, together with a group of other dedicated Canadian – Asian adoptees living in Vancouver and under the mentorship of AAAW, we re-initiated the BC based group called the Asian Adult Adoptees of British Columbia (AAABC), previously known as Triple ABC.  Since relaunching the group, it has been an absolute privilege to lead renewed efforts of AAABC building on AAABC’s previous success. With our Board of Directors consisting of four Adult Asian adoptees, we have started developing many meaningful partnerships with other local Korean and adoptee organizations, FCCBC, AFABC, C3 and most notably a Korean school – the Haeoreum School – mandated to enrich the lives of young Korean adoptees through culture and language lessons.  We have since hosted several AAABC Meetups in Vancouver and on Vancouver Island with representation of Korean, Vietnamese and Chinese Adoptees and regularly attend events hosted by our partnering organizations.  An exceptional example of one attended was in fall of 2016.  We were invited to participate in Haeoreum School’s Annual Family Day event in which we joined the Consul General of the Republic of Korea in Vancouver as keynote speakers and then led a Q&A session with parents of young KAD’s where we were moved to tears at the support Haeoreum School is providing.  AAABC has and continues to grow my journey of self-discovery.  After every event we host, I am amazed at the courage, struggles, and joy each person has experienced and is brave enough to share.  I can no longer imagine my life without the support of this community.

In closing, I do occasionally wonder if things would have been any different had there been more support systems for KAD’s in place during my earlier years, but I do not know whether it would have changed my life path or personal story.  It makes me proud to reflect on the compassion of Canadians, the beauty of youth, and the lack of judgement that I experienced being raised in Canada.  Many people, minorities or not, may never have the chance to feel this level of acceptance I did, so much so that I truly believed I was Canadian-Caucasian at times.  I feel fortunate every day having the pleasure of being Canadian by nationality, and have always felt my adoption from Korea was the best thing that could have happened to me.  I am a part of an amazing, special, unique, loving and supportive family many could only dream of.  Now years later, as I continue this new journey of self-discovery and feel it is my time, when I am finally ready to explore my birth roots and country, I am pleased to find out and share the meaning of my given birth name, Yee Bok Choi, translating to this (Yee) fortune (Bok), only solidifying my understanding of the same.