findyourgoldenhour's review against another edition
4.0
This is such a moving story. I found myself wondering why I haven’t heard this life perspective told before; international adoption is fairly common in the US, and I feel like I have a good understanding of what that experience is like for the adoptive parents. I haven’t seen many memoirs written from the adoptee’s perspective, at least not one as honest and conflicted as this one.
The first section could’ve been titled “The Repercussions of Naive White People and Their Good Intentions” or “Why Representation Matters.” The author was born in 1981, and at that time the conventional wisdom around adoption was changing. Previous generations were often never told they were adopted, or were only told once they became adults. The author always knew she was adopted, but of course this would’ve been hard for her parents to hide: she is Korean and her adoptive parents are white. But the early ‘80s was the post-Civil Rights era, in which we were all supposed to be colorblind. Her parents thought that love would be enough, that race and cultural identity didn’t matter, that as long as they loved their daughter as their own, what difference does her ethnicity make?
Well, dear reader, it makes a big difference. If you are the only Asian person in an entirely white town, and none of the adults ever talk about it, it matters. The author talks about how lonely it felt growing up this way, the bullying she endured in school, the pain of not knowing anyone who looked like her. The irony is, her parents attitude (“your race doesn’t matter so let’s never mention it!”) made it one of the central focuses of her life.
The other central focus was the longing to know her origins. The rest of the book tells the story of her finding her birth family, and I won’t spoil any of it here. It’s not a Hallmark movie that ends with a reunited mother and child weeping in each other’s arms. It’s beautiful and painful and real, just like everyone else’s family.
I must say, however, I also feel deep empathy for her birth parents. I can’t tell if there’s more to her childhood she’s not telling here, but at times she seems almost cold toward her parents. They were doing the best they knew how with what they had at the time. This is what all good parents do. I’m sure if they were to adopt a Korean baby now, they’d raise her with access to her culture and language in a way that just wasn’t done 30 years ago. The author is a mother herself now, and she talks about how she can’t imagine giving up her baby to strangers. Can she not also imagine desperately wanting a baby but not being able to conceive, the long wait and roller coaster ride of the adoption process, the giving your heart fully to a baby who may one day push you away, the fear of being told your not her “real” mother? Seems like grace should be extended to all parties here.
The first section could’ve been titled “The Repercussions of Naive White People and Their Good Intentions” or “Why Representation Matters.” The author was born in 1981, and at that time the conventional wisdom around adoption was changing. Previous generations were often never told they were adopted, or were only told once they became adults. The author always knew she was adopted, but of course this would’ve been hard for her parents to hide: she is Korean and her adoptive parents are white. But the early ‘80s was the post-Civil Rights era, in which we were all supposed to be colorblind. Her parents thought that love would be enough, that race and cultural identity didn’t matter, that as long as they loved their daughter as their own, what difference does her ethnicity make?
Well, dear reader, it makes a big difference. If you are the only Asian person in an entirely white town, and none of the adults ever talk about it, it matters. The author talks about how lonely it felt growing up this way, the bullying she endured in school, the pain of not knowing anyone who looked like her. The irony is, her parents attitude (“your race doesn’t matter so let’s never mention it!”) made it one of the central focuses of her life.
The other central focus was the longing to know her origins. The rest of the book tells the story of her finding her birth family, and I won’t spoil any of it here. It’s not a Hallmark movie that ends with a reunited mother and child weeping in each other’s arms. It’s beautiful and painful and real, just like everyone else’s family.
I must say, however, I also feel deep empathy for her birth parents. I can’t tell if there’s more to her childhood she’s not telling here, but at times she seems almost cold toward her parents. They were doing the best they knew how with what they had at the time. This is what all good parents do. I’m sure if they were to adopt a Korean baby now, they’d raise her with access to her culture and language in a way that just wasn’t done 30 years ago. The author is a mother herself now, and she talks about how she can’t imagine giving up her baby to strangers. Can she not also imagine desperately wanting a baby but not being able to conceive, the long wait and roller coaster ride of the adoption process, the giving your heart fully to a baby who may one day push you away, the fear of being told your not her “real” mother? Seems like grace should be extended to all parties here.
pamiverson's review against another edition
4.0
The daughter of Korean immigrants is born quite prematurely and her parents relinquish her for adoption. This book tell the story of what happens afterwards -- growing up as the only Asian in her rural Oregon community, questioning the story that her birth parents loved her so much they let her go, reconnecting with family members and learning new meanings to the the word "family," realizing her daughter's need for connection with her ancestors' culture. Thought-provoking.
lizshayne's review against another edition
emotional
hopeful
reflective
fast-paced
4.0
Apparently it's Nicole Chung time because I immediately finished her second memoir and went on to read her first.
It's so interesting reading them back to back because they focus so closely on specific parts of her life that one really does get that sense of bifurcated identity that she is exploring as a transracial adoptee. I don't think it's not-not intentional, but I do think it's an effect rather than a goal.
And they're both stories about finding/making meaning in ways that feel like they call not so much to the reader to respond, but on the reader to become a person who has heard and listened and has changed for having done so.
Especially as a pair, these are my favorite kinds of memoirs: invitations into other people's experiences and lives as a gift. Come with me. Let me tell you my story.
It's so interesting reading them back to back because they focus so closely on specific parts of her life that one really does get that sense of bifurcated identity that she is exploring as a transracial adoptee. I don't think it's not-not intentional, but I do think it's an effect rather than a goal.
And they're both stories about finding/making meaning in ways that feel like they call not so much to the reader to respond, but on the reader to become a person who has heard and listened and has changed for having done so.
Especially as a pair, these are my favorite kinds of memoirs: invitations into other people's experiences and lives as a gift. Come with me. Let me tell you my story.
alisarae's review against another edition
5.0
This is the second memoir I've read about domestic transracial adoption (Bitterroot by Susan Devan Harness is the other). Both advocate for open adoptions, the chance to build memories with relatives who get it. "Get it" meaning the complications of being other in a white society, and also those family quirks that are more inherited than learned.
In Bitterroot, Susan Devan Harnass spends a lot of time explaining the bureaucracy involved and the decades of national policies meant to erase indigenous families. Nicole Chung faced a tiny fraction of that red tape and spends more time exploring her longings and fears as an adoptee and her family history. Her story has a very satisfying resolution and makes for a good book, something I wish more adoptees had.
In Bitterroot, Susan Devan Harnass spends a lot of time explaining the bureaucracy involved and the decades of national policies meant to erase indigenous families. Nicole Chung faced a tiny fraction of that red tape and spends more time exploring her longings and fears as an adoptee and her family history. Her story has a very satisfying resolution and makes for a good book, something I wish more adoptees had.
calladriel's review against another edition
emotional
hopeful
informative
reflective
medium-paced
3.25
nyzerman's review against another edition
4.0
Chung's memoir really resonated with me as a Korean adoptee raised by a white family. Chung was able articulate and capture what it's like to grow up feeling disconnected from one's culture and how it feels to be grateful, on one hand, to (supposedly in my case) be given a "better" life by one's adoptive family but always wondering "what if . . . " and what life would have been like in that alternate universe, growing up with one's biological family. Though I gave myself long breaks from reading it due to the triggered emotions that would well up, I would recommend this to anyone who wants to understand a transracial adoptee experience and perspective.
theinkwyrm's review against another edition
4.0
I really enjoyed the actual writing of the book, but I think the narrator decreased my rating just because her voice was too soft and not super well enunciated, so I had to turn the volume up pretty high to hear what she was saying. That being said, the book is still good and gives valuable insight into interracial adoption and how the narrative surrounding it can be prone to white saviorism, thus alienating adoptees from their birth parents and native cultures.
leweylibrarian's review against another edition
challenging
dark
emotional
hopeful
informative
reflective
sad
medium-paced
4.5
I read her.second memoir before this one lol but I did like this one better. The religious bits were a lot less frequent, but there were a LOT more about pregnancy and kids which I wasn't a huge fan of. Nevertheless, I know how big of a role those things played in her adoption story, so I get it. It was a really compelling and complicated story, and I'm impressed that she wrote about it so eloquently.
I can identity in some ways because of my being a test tube baby and my parents' separation when I was in early middle school. I got a lot of the same questions about wanting to know my "real" dad, but pushing my mind several steps further to consider not only having no biological relations around you AND being a visibly different race from your family...that's intense.
I feel like I still have a lot of questions having read her second book first, like what thoughts and emotions she was having about her biological family whom she did meet and talked to while her adopted parents were having their health issues and eventually dying. It was really lovely seeing her relationship with her sister take form, especially since my relationship with my own sister is a little like it, even if we aren't related by blood.
I can identity in some ways because of my being a test tube baby and my parents' separation when I was in early middle school. I got a lot of the same questions about wanting to know my "real" dad, but pushing my mind several steps further to consider not only having no biological relations around you AND being a visibly different race from your family...that's intense.
I feel like I still have a lot of questions having read her second book first, like what thoughts and emotions she was having about her biological family whom she did meet and talked to while her adopted parents were having their health issues and eventually dying. It was really lovely seeing her relationship with her sister take form, especially since my relationship with my own sister is a little like it, even if we aren't related by blood.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Abandonment, Racial slurs, Racism, Pregnancy, and Medical content
Moderate: Toxic relationship and Child abuse
Minor: Miscarriage and Cancer